Author's note: I don't claim to know any of the people in this fic, it is complete fiction. Also, IRL you never expose a recovering addict to alcohol like this, or at all, fyi. <3 stay safe out there <3

The sun was shining, just like any other day.

The members of Linkin Park concluded their band meeting. These meetings were always a bit of a bore but Mike insisted on doing them often. And everyone had to admit, they worked. Giving and receiving feedback both got easier as they did it more and everyone knew it all came from a place of love.

Mike once again had gotten the request to be more fun-loving and to loosen the reins a bit. To which he'd playfully conceded and hosted an impromptu house party.

"How come you've got this much booze in your house?" Joe asked with his eternal wink and nod energy.

"I don't know, companies just keep giving me alcohol. What's that about, huh?" Mike defended himself. "I don't even like tequila but I keep getting these gifts!" He gestured to five wicker baskets in his kitchen closet, all of them filled to the brim with bottles. He got two out and passed them to Dave, who passed them to Joe. "And I'm not just gonna throw this stuff away." He grabbed a couple more and added them to the collection on his coffee table, around which everyone now sat, on his very expensive-looking couches.

"I better not catch you guys spilling!" Mike joked.

"I take offense to that," Rob said through a smile, which revealed he was going to try and prank Mike. "I have the steadiest hands of us all- whoaaao" and he faked almost pouring his first shot glass all over the also-expensive carpet.

"Oh, I don't worry about you, Rob. Why do us grown-ups always have to deal with... THIS, though?" Mike motioned to the rest of the band, who were fucking around, mixing hard liquor and leaving all bottles uncorked. Rob exhaled through his nose, silently agreeing with Mike that they were the grown-ups of the group.

"Band vote! Band vote!" Chester shouted. Him and Dave had been scheming. "Mike should dye his hair blue again!" A lot of 'hear, hears' and clapping.

Mike looked at him fondly. "Band meeting is over!" He laughed.

"But it looks so sexy!" Chester complained with a grin. Mike grinned back. They both kicked each other, Chester a little too hard, and Mike's drink fell out of his hands... To be caught by Brad, who sat right next to him. Chester gasped, the rest of them cheered.

"Rob has the steadiest hands, I have the quickest reflexes," Brad winked.

"And, of course, you already knew this would happen," Mike wheezed.

"Of course I already knew," Brad said sagely.

Chester looked apologetic. He'd been acting like a little shit the whole day, but only because it made Mike laugh. "I'm sorry, Mike."

"Oh, no, it's okay, Chaz," Mike reassured him. Chester didn't look convinced, so Mike made a mental note to make sure he was okay later. "Let's toast to our new album being NEARLY done!! Next year will be a tour year, so, for now, let's celebrate the easy life!"

"To the easy life!" "To Minutes to Midnight!" They all said disorderly because of Mike's unclear instructions.

"Yeah!!" Bellowed Mike, and everyone made frat party noises and drank, mostly to Mike's health and happiness if they were being honest. He was that magical glue that held them, the band, together. Of course he had to be strict and demanding. And savvy, sometimes making executive decisions. If he wasn't or wouldn't, they would never have made it.

And seeing him unwind a bit was a rare experience for all of them. So, being the rowdy bunch they were, they egged him on, getting him to drink more and more. It was getting late, too.

Mike's vision started to blur, and he got a too comfortable feeling in his legs, not wanting to get up anymore. He clung to Brad and heard them all giggle as he laid his head on his shoulder, but he didn't care. He was gone.

Suddenly, he sat up, bathing in cold sweat. Shadows had been chasing him, and he'd been caught.

"Mike!"

Chester's concerned voice startled Mike as he was coming out of his nightmare.

"Chaz?"

"Hey," Chester whispered now, and walked from the couch he'd been sleeping on to Mike's and sat down beside him. He put a reassuring hand on Mike's trembling arm. "You're safe. It was a nightmare, but you're safe now."

Mike took a deep breath. "Is everyone else gone?" He asked.

"Yeah, they all went home after you started snoring." Chester chuckled, but then cleared his throat. "I stayed to make sure you were okay. We made you drink way too much. Sorry about that. I really am, Mike. It's not your thing, we shouldn't have pushed you. And I feel extra bad because I was the sober one amongst us all, and I let it happen."

"No, Chaz, it's okay, I-" Mike sat up next to his friend. "I wanted to tell you earlier. You didn't have to feel bad about the glass, and you don't have to feel bad about the drinking. I make my own choices, and this one is all on me. I feel bad, actually, you shouldn't be around that much alcohol, and we just got wasted around you. But Chaz, I'm really, really glad you are here." He patted Chester's hand and smiled, admiring his face in the dark. His lead singer was a very handsome guy, that was just an objective fact. But seeing him up close like this, and watching him be so caring? That made Mike appreciate him even more. He rubbed Chester's hand, but then he shifted. "I really need to pee, though."

They both smirked and Mike got up to the bathroom. Oops. Walking was NOT a good idea. He stumbled through the hallway and collapsed into the toilet. Chester wasn't far behind.

"Heyyy, want some help with that?"

"Uhh.. yeah.."

Chester helped him up and he peed. But his stomach didn't feel good just yet.

"I think I have to..."

He didn't need to tell Chester twice. His slender but surprisingly strong friend lowered Mike to the floor so he was facing the white edge of the toilet. From there, he emptied out most of his stomach.

"Good job," Chester complimented, like Mike was a small child. He obviously had done this kind of thing many times before.

After Mike washed his hands, they shuffled back to the living room. "Want a glass of water?"

"Yeah, please. And thank you again, Chaz. You're the best." Mike beamed, even though Chester probably couldn't see.

"It's the least I could do," Chester replied while handing Mike the glass and sitting down next to him. He paused, like he wanted to say more, but didn't.

Mike's eyes were getting heavy again, and his head was bobbing. He fell heavy against Chester's shoulder and was gone once more.

~

The next morning, Chester woke up to dream-like music. It was very pleasant. He turned his head and saw Mike was playing the keyboard. Chester hadn't heard this before. But it was definitely something for Linkin Park. He looked at the coffee table. It was completely clean again. The whole room was. The soft light filled the place with an intimate atmosphere.

Maybe it was the music, but Chester felt emotional. He'd been alone with Mike tons of times before, to compose, record, discuss business. But as he took the wonderful sounds in, there was no air of professionalism between them now. It was just a guy playing the most haunting song Chester had ever heard, and he was the lucky one he played it for. Chester's eyes welled up.

He must have made a sound because Mike turned his head. He wore a soul-crushing smile. Chester's defenses were already lowered, but now he was taking all of Mike in, it was almost too much, too bright. He didn't feel worthy.

"Good morning, sleepy head," Mike teased.

Chester scoffed, and swallowed. "Good morning Mike, that's beautiful, what is it?"

"Just something I'm working on... Come here, I'll show you!"

Chester was startled as Mike swung him on his lap with one arm, while the other kept playing the keys. He was never this cavalier. Was it the alcohol still? They both laughed about it, though, and Mike continued to play. Chester got into it too, and they hummed along, coming up with new melodies. Breathing in, Chester noticed that Mike smelled incredible, like flowers. His band leader had obviously already showered, skin still glowing, radiating warmth. For one, short moment, Chester gave in. He leaned back against Mike, while taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. This was home. It always had been. Yet for all the side hugs, forehead kisses, undressing in front of each other backstage and even on occasion a group shower, they had never been this close, physically.

"Mike..." Chester reached behind to stroke Mike's short hair. He was totally lost in the moment, feeling the taller guy smile against his neck.

But then, the music stopped.

"Uhh, I have to, uhh," Mike stuttered while gently shoving Chester to the side before jumping out of his chair.

"Yeah! Of course! No worries!" Chester had felt it. A bulge in Mike’s pants. They were both freaking out. "I have to go! Haha, well, I'm happy you're alright, you'll have that alcohol out of your system in no time!"

"Thanks again man, you're a life saver. See you next Wednesday, yeah?"

"Of course! See you!"

Chester walked up to Mike for a hug but he saw his friend freeze up, so he went for a fist bump instead.

"Bye."