LPfiction

Category Linkin Park

My Mike by Duchess

A/N just a little piece I found the other day when I was clearing out my hard drive.



Insomnia



I don't sleep any more.



I can't sleep, not with him in the next room. He's laying there now, stretched out on his side like he always is, one hand tucked under his face, matting his black hair to the side of his head. He looks younger like this.



A half light from the streetlamp outside seeps through the curtains, bathing his face in an eiree orange light, highlighting the sensuous curve of his mouth, and the shadows playing over his long neck.



I've sat here, night after night. His image is hypnotic, willing me to look, and daring me do turn away, just once. No one knows i do this. They'd all think i was crazy if i told them. Brad would start looking at me weird. Rob would avoid me. Dave would make disgusted sounds every time i walked into the room. Chaz, with his infamous temper would most likely beat me to a writhing mass for so much as looking at his love in that way.



A soft snuffle and shifting from the other side of the bed alerted me to his lovers' presence. I knew it was stupid, and dangerous. Chester's slender form was deceptive, housing strength that hardly anyone could guess.



Mike was bigger, though not by much. Sloping muscles that worked across his back, down his long lean arms, over strong legs, flexed and twisted on stage, visible to me even through the baggy clothing he wore on stage. From safely behind my turntables, i could stare and fantasise to my hearts content.



At first the thought and the sound of him and Chester together tormented me. The day they revealed their relationship to the group was the worst day of my short life. It had hurt like a thousand knives to see them holding hands, hugging, kissing. Even when they showed each other general affection, like they would to any of us, it was like glass shards under my skin, because i knew there was something deeper there, that didn't extend to any of us.



It was these moments i lived for though. The nights that i can watch him sleep. When everyone had staggered off to bed and the whole place was silent and still. When even a whisper sounded like thunder and every footpad of bare feet on carpet was reminiscent of a herd of elephants. I'd break into their room.



Sometimes I'd have to wrangle a key out of the receptionist; expensive hotels have better locks. But usually, if it's just a stop on tour, the hotel would be nothing fancy, so a credit card in the right place would do the trick.



Mike would be laying as he was now, relaxed and calm on his side, a happy, contented smile on his face. One hand will always be tucked under his head, while the other always under his pillow. Sometimes Chester was draped over him, spooning into him, and nuzzling the strong back presented to him.



Mike always slept by the door.



Mike. If he knew i sneaked into their room, night after night to watch him sleep, despite the fact Chester lay sleeping next to him, he'd never talk to me again. The friendly pats and hugs would turn cold and disappear altogether. Warm Shinoda smiles would turn into grimaces of pity and the chocolate eyes that regarded me with such fondness would turn to icy pools.



So no one could know that the only thing that kept me going, was the one thing i couldn't have. The thing Chester had, and always will have. My love. My life.



My Mike.




Review please. Pleeeaaaaaassssseeeeee????

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