my friend & i wrote this years ago when we were like 16. i only now found it a few days ago on my old laptop. we went over it again, changed a few things & now decided to publish it

Chester wasn’t supposed to show up that day.

The band had been auditioning new vocalists for weeks, and every single one so far had been forgettable - men who looked the part but sang like they’d swallowed their tongue, or boys who could sing but had the presence of wet cardboard. They were halfway ready to give up when the door creaked open and someone slipped inside.

Chester.

He looked like he didn’t belong here; thin, pale, shaking slightly as he pushed his blond hair out of his face. He smelled faintly like cigarettes and cold air. He wouldn’t even look at them at first.

Mike noticed how badly the guy’s hands trembled when he took the mic.

“I’m Chester. We called” Chester spoke, trying to look everywhere, but the guys.

“Yeah, I remember you Chester. You can start whenever.” Mike said, trying to sound calm.

Chester nodded, swallowed hard, and closed his eyes.

And then-

he sang.

The room changed. The world changed. Something deep inside Mike snapped into place like a puzzle piece that had been missing for years. Chester’s voice was perfect. It was raw, trembling, honest. The prettiest voice Mike had ever heard. Even better than the tape Chester sent them. It cracked once, but even that cracked note felt like a confession.

Mike didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. He stared at Chester like he was watching a miracle happen in real time.

When the others started whispering among themselves, Mike didn’t care. He got up before they could say anything.

“You’re in,” he said.

The rest of the band stared at him.

“Mike-”

“We didn’t even-”

He ignored them. He just looked at Chester.

“You’re in the band.”

Chester blinked in shock. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Mike said softly. I just know.

Because he did.

Somewhere deep in his chest, something ancient and certain told him this was right.

“I mean he’s good - much better than all the other dudes we heard, but shouldn’t we at least consider the others too?” Brad asked, trying to pull Mike down by his shirt.

“You’re insane if you even consider somebody else Brad. Chester you’re in.” He repeated again, looking directly into Chester’s eyes.

December 1999

The others didn’t warm up to Chester easily.

He was reckless.

Vanished for days.

Came back hungover, angry, bruised sometimes.

Broke rules. Broke promises.

Didn’t care.

But Mike never yelled. Never got frustrated.

Because Chester told him things the others didn’t know. About why the world felt heavy, about how he drank to make the weight stop crushing him, about the anger that lived under his skin like a second pulse.

Mike listened.

Calmed him.

Held him through the worst nights in the studio bathroom while Chester vomited up everything he’d tried to bury.

They got close fast. Too fast. So close the rest of the band started giving them looks.

January 2000

It was a freezing night, the kind that made the air hurt. They were walking home from the studio when Chester kept shoving his hands deep into his pockets, shivering hard.

“You okay?” Mike asked.

Chester shrugged. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He wasn’t.

Mike could tell.

They reached the parking lot, and Chester stopped beside a beat-up old car. He opened the back door and tossed his backpack onto a pile of blankets.

Mike froze.

“You… live here?”

Chester looked away. “Only for now.”

Mike didn’t even think.

“Get your shit. You’re coming home with me.”

Chester tried to protest, not wanting to be a burden, but Mike was firm for once.

And that was that.

Chester moved in that same night.

February -> April 2000

They became a pair.

If Mike went to a bar, Chester came with him.

If Mike went to the studio at two in the morning, Chester followed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

If Mike wanted breakfast, Chester was already in the passenger seat.

Being apart felt wrong.

Unnatural.

Everyone teased them.

“You two are basically dating.”

“Just kiss already, Jesus.”

“Get a room - oh wait, you share one.”

Mike always rolled his eyes, but Chester just leaned on him more.

Their hands found each other without thinking.

Mikes hand on Chester’s thigh.

Chester half-lying against Mike whenever they sat down.

Touch became part of the language they spoke.

The first kiss

One night, Chester broke.

He’d been drinking, heavy and fast. He collapsed into Mikes arms in their dark apartment, crying so hard he couldn’t breathe.

“I can’t do this,” Chester sobbed. “I just… I can’t anymore. It’s too much. I want to disappear.”

Mike held him tight, rubbing circles on his back.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

Chester’s face was damp with tears. Mike kissed his head without thinking, then his forehead, then the corner of his eye. Chester stilled, breaths hiccuping.

Mikes lips brushed Chester’s cheek.

Then his nose.

Then-

a soft, trembling peck to the lips.

Just a moment.

Barely a second.

But everything changed.

After that, Mike kissed him whenever his world started falling apart. little grounding kisses, quiet, hidden.

Then he started giving them at other times too.

In the hallway.

In the studio kitchen.

In bed before they fell asleep.

In the morning over coffee while Chester sat wrapped in Mikes hoodie, sleepy and soft.

Spring 2000

It was late, too late, the kind of hour where everything is slowed by alcohol and exhaustion. Chester lay with his cheek pressed to the bar counter, eyes half-closed.

Mike watched him like he was studying a piece of art.

Every detail.

Every freckle, every shadow, every breath.

“Mikeyyyy I’m sooo tired,” Chester mumbled.

The nickname in that angelic voice made something inside Mike melt.

“Chazzy…” he whispered.

Chester shivered. “Mmmh… I love when you call me that.”

He slid closer, their faces inches apart.

Mike didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate.

He leaned down and kissed Chester.

Not a peck.

Not an accident.

A real kiss: deep, warm, lingering.

Chester gasped softly into it.

They went home together.

Fell asleep tangled up in each other, Chester curled into Mikes chest like he belonged there.

After that, the kisses changed.

Longer.

Deeper.

Hands in hair, on hips, on necks.

More.

Always more.

Summer 2000

It was late July, and the studio was warm with the lingering heat of the day. Empty beer cans clinked on the floor. They’d stopped counting how many they’d had. They passed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s back and forth, their knees touching, shoulders touching, everything touching.

Mike watched Chester take a slow sip.

Chester watched him back, eyes soft and heavy.

Eventually, Chester leaned his head on Mikes shoulder with a sigh.

“I love you, you know?” he slurred. “You’re my best friend.”

Mike felt his heart swell in his chest, too big, too full.

“You’re also my best friend, Chazzy. I love you so much.”

They kissed again.

Deep, slow.

Chester tasting like whiskey, warm and sweet.

Mikes hand slid to Chester’s waist, fingers tracing circles.

He slipped his hand under Chester’s shirt, touching skin, and Chester melted - relaxed completely, pressing closer, breathing softly against Mikes lips.

They kept kissing until Chester sagged against him, half-asleep, his breath warm against Mikes neck.

Mike held him, stroking his back, feeling the weight of Chester body settle fully onto him.

And then-

the studio lights flickered.

Went dim.

Then black.

Everything disappeared.

Mike gasped, frozen, his arms still around Chester-

-but Chester wasn’t there anymore.

The world broke apart like glass.

And Mike saw something else.

Someone else.

Another version of Chester.

Another version of them.

His first vision.

It was summer. Crickets chirping around them. The grass they were on was green, the stars & the moon shone down on them. Mike kneeled on the grass, half lying on Chester.

Chester lay naked under him. Hands gripping Mikes arms tight. His head was thrown back into the grass. Eyes closed, mouth open, letting the pleasure he’s receiving; that’s entering his body, leave through his mouth.

Mikes right hand was on Chester’s length, moving up and down slowly, occasionally thumbing the tip. His left hand held Chester’s hip tight, grounding him.

The sounds Chester let out through that pretty mouth were breathtakingly beautiful. The most beautiful sound Mike has ever heard.

Mike could feel the vision of Chester’s body in his own hands. He could feel Chester on his finger tips. Was this a dream? It felt too real to be a dream. To natural. Like it actually happened. Somewhere. Some other time.

Chester got louder. His fingers dug into Mikes arms harder. His moans turned desperate. Mike knew he was close to an orgasm. Close to unraveling in Mikes hands.

But seconds before he could watch Chester release, his sight turned black again and he was suddenly back in the studio.

Mike sits there. He looks to his side at Chester. He was still in his arms.

Utterly confused, Mike blinks.

Was this a déjà vu? A daydream? Was he hallucinating from the Whiskey?

Mike doesn’t know.

Mike closes his eyes. He wraps his hands tighter around Chester and prepares himself to sleep. Just like Chester.

Little does Mike know this was the first proof that he and Chester were connected across universes.

Bound.

Inevitable.

Destined.

A few days later

The days after the first blackout pass quietly.

Too quietly.

Mike waits for something to change - for Chester to say something, to act differently, to know. But Chester doesn’t. He laughs the same, touches the same, kisses Mike the same way he always has. Whatever happened in the studio that night stayed locked inside Mike’s head.

And life continues.

They’re still together constantly. Still inseparable. Still touching without thinking - hands on shoulders, thighs, backs. Kisses still happen when they’re alone, soft and familiar, like punctuation marks in their days.

But Mike notices things now.

Not in Chester - in himself.

Moments where his hands linger too long because they feel like they’ve been somewhere else already. Moments where Chester’s breath against his neck sparks a strange, aching familiarity, like déjà vu that settles deep in his bones.

He doesn’t tell Chester.

He doesn’t know how.

The night of the second vision

It happens late, again.

They’re in the Mikes apartment, sprawled out on the couch, a bad movie playing on the TV. The room is dim except for the flickering light from the screen. Chester is curled into Mike’s arms, comfortable and loose, one leg draped lazily over Mike’s thigh.

Mike’s fingers trace slow patterns over Chester’s shoulder, a habit so ingrained he doesn’t remember when it started. Chester hums softly, distracted, half-asleep already.

“Mikey?” Chester murmurs.

“Yeah, Chazzy?” Mike replies, turning his head toward him.

“This movie sucks.”

Chester giggles, the sound warm and easy.

Mike smiles. “Wanna watch something else?”

Chester shakes his head.

“Nah. It’s so bad it’s already good again.”

He shifts closer, nestling into Mike’s chest, and Mike tightens his arm around him automatically. Chester sighs, content, eyes glued to the screen.

From Chester’s point of view, nothing is wrong.

But Mike feels it.

That same subtle pressure in his chest. The faint sense that the moment is about to split open. His fingers pause against Chester’s shoulder, suddenly aware of every point of contact between them.

The lights flicker.

Just for a second.

Mike’s breath catches.

The TV stutters, the image glitching briefly. Chester doesn’t react. Almost like this is just in Mikes head and not actually happening.

Mike’s heart starts to race.

The room feels distant, muffled, like he’s sinking underwater while everything else keeps moving above him. He blinks hard, trying to stay present, trying to focus on Chester’s warmth, the solid reality of his body pressed against him.

The lights flicker again.

Then-

-darkness.

The TV cuts out. The studio disappears into black.

Chester shifts in his arms, grumbling softly, still half-focused on the movie that isn’t there anymore.

But Mike isn’t there anymore.

Not really.

The darkness stretches, bends, opens.

And the next vision takes hold of him.

Mike expects the scene to take place somewhere else, but they both stay right on the couch.

The same position. Just more skin, less clothing, more desperate sounds coming from Chester.

Chester lay in Mikes arms. Shirt off, pants slid down to his knees. Mikes left hand is draped over Chester’s shoulder, fingers twisting and pulling his left nipple. His right hand tight around Chester’s length, stroking up and down. Like last time.

Chester’s head is thrown back. Eyes closed tightly. Moans and whimpers leaving his mouth. Left hand fisting the couch cushion, right hand holding onto Mikes thigh.

Chester writhes in Mikes hold, letting Mike take care of him fully. His whimpers getting louder and louder with every drag of Mikes hand.

Chester’s moans get desperate and his body starts to shake. Mike knows he’s close. Close to losing himself and submitting fully to Mike.

Mike watches himself - the second version of himself - closely.

His own eyes are focused on Chester’s face. Chester’s eyes are shut tight. His mouth open, small whimpers escaping his lips. Chester turns his face closer to Mike, his moans getting higher and higher. Mike knows it’ll only take seconds for Chester to reach his high.

But right before Chester can finish, the lights flicker again and Mike is back on the couch.

Confusion and warmth travels through his body. Chester is still in his arms, already asleep by now. His clothes are back on. Like nothing of what Mike just witnessed actually happened.

For a long moment, Mike doesn’t move. He barely even breathes. His arms are still wrapped around Chester, instinctively holding him the way he always does. But now his grip feels different. Too tight. Like he’s afraid that if he lets go, Chester might vanish again.

The apartment is dark except for the long

forgotten movie playing on TV. No flickers now. No hum. Just the scene from the movie, Mike can’t focus on anymore and the quiet sound of Chester’s slow, even breathing.

Asleep.

Completely unaware.

Mike looks down at him.

Chester’s face is relaxed, mouth slightly open, lashes resting against his cheeks. Fully clothed. Exactly as he had been before the lights went out.

Like nothing had happened at all.

Mike swallows hard.

His body still hums with the echo of something that doesn’t belong to this moment. Heat lingers under his skin, a weird sensation that makes his skin feel unfamiliar. Like it remembers something he doesn’t have permission to remember.

His heart pounds, loud in his ears.

That wasn’t a dream.

He knows that with a certainty that scares him.

It hadn’t felt imagined. It hadn’t felt distant or hazy or unreal. It had felt experienced. It felt real. Like stepping into a memory that he hasn’t experienced yet. Like touching something that already existed somewhere else. Like something that had happened. Somewhere. Just Mike hasn’t been there yet.

Mike squeezes his eyes shut.

When he opens them again, the studio is still there. Chester is still there. Real. Warm in his arms.

Mike adjusts carefully, slowly, so he doesn’t wake him. He shifts just enough to make Chester more comfortable, pulling a blanket up over him. The movement is gentle, practiced; caretaker muscle memory kicking in, grounding him in the present.

“This is real” he tells himself.

This is the only thing that’s real.

But the certainty doesn’t stick.

Because even as he sits there in the dark, holding the man he loves - his best friend, his constant - Mike can still feel the other version of him. The other couch. The other night. The other way Chester had fit against him. The way his skin tingled from feeling Chester’s body against his.

It scares him how natural it felt.

How inevitable.

The third vision

Weeks go by.

Nothing happens.

Mike chooses not to tell Chester about what he had seen.

It could ruin everything.

What if Chester shuns away from him? What if Chester thinks he’s weird? What if Chester starts feeling unsafe with him?

No. Mike can’t tell him. It would ruin everything.

As much as it confuses Mike. As much as he feels the need to tell Chester, the ask him if he experiences the same; he can’t.

The fear of Chester leaving him is too big.

He tells himself that whatever it was - stress, exhaustion, alcohol, his brain misfiring - it’s over now. That it was just a phase. A coincidence. Two strange moments that won’t repeat themselves if he doesn’t give them room to. Two strange moment that haven’t returned in weeks now.

He throws himself into work. Into schedules, rehearsals, lyrics. Into being the one who knows what he’s doing. The one everyone relies on. The one who keeps things together.

Except this time, it doesn’t work.

For the first time ever, Mike doesn’t understand what’s happening to him.

And that terrifies him.

He doesn’t tell Chester.

He can’t.

The thought alone makes his chest tighten.

Mike can handle a lot of things. Anger. Chaos. Pressure.

But he cannot handle losing him.

So he stays quiet.

He treats Chester exactly the same.

Still pulls him close on the couch.

Still lets him sleep curled against his chest.

Still touches him the way he always has. Protective, familiar, careful.

But now, every touch comes with a question Mike doesn’t dare ask.

Does he want this?

Does he feel the same things?

Does he see what I see?

Mike doesn’t know.

And for once, not knowing makes him feel powerless.

He starts paying attention to patterns.

The visions only happened when Chester was asleep.

When his breathing slows.

When his body goes slack with trust.

That thought makes Mike uneasy. Chester puts an insane amount of trust into Mike. It’s like he doesn’t even want to think his heat friend could

do something that isn’t okay.

The thoughts eat Mike alive. Mike knows about Chester’s past. About the abuse. About how his body has been misused. How would Chester react if the first person he could ever trust after all this, had thoughts about touching him that way?

Mike tells himself Chester never notices. That he never has to worry about zoning out in front of him, never has to worry about slipping into another world and seeing these scenes because Chester is always asleep when it happens.

As long as Chester is awake, Mike is safe.

As long as Chester is awake, the world stays intact.

So Mike watches him more closely now.

Counts his breaths at night.

Listens for the moment his weight fully settles.

Not because he wants another vision - but because he’s afraid that if he zones out while Chester is awake, he’ll ask Mike about it. And Mike knows damn well he couldn’t lie to him.

The third vision doesn’t come with warning.

It happens on a normal night.

Too normal.

They’re back at Mike’s apartment, the windows open to let in the summer air. The city hums faintly outside. Chester is sprawled beside him on the bed, one arm slung across Mike’s stomach, fast asleep.

Mike stares at the ceiling.

He should be tired.

He is tired.

But sleep won’t come.

There’s a restless tension in his chest. His thoughts keep circling the same questions, over and over, like they’re looking for an exit that doesn’t exist.

Mike turns his head slightly, looking down at Chester.

At how peaceful he looks.

At how safe he is.

At how much trust he places in Mike without ever questioning it.

A familiar warmth spreads through Mike’s chest. love, fierce and grounding.

And then-

-The room shifts.

Not suddenly.

Not violently.

It’s subtle, like the world is gently slipping out of alignment. The sounds outside fade, stretching thin. The shadows in the room feel deeper, heavier.

Mike’s breath catches.

“No” he thinks.

“Not now.”

He tries to focus. Tries to ground himself in the present. In the weight of Chester’s arm, the rhythm of his breathing, the solid reality of the bed beneath him.

The light flickers.

Once.

Mike’s heart starts to race.

The air feels thick, like it’s pressing onto him from all sides. His fingers curl into the sheets as the edges of the room begin to blur, softening, dissolving.

Chester doesn’t stir.

And Mike realizes, with a sinking certainty, that it doesn’t matter how long he’s waited.

The visions aren’t done with him.

The third one is already taking hold.

And just like that, the world Mike and Chester were in just seconds ago, is gone.

They’re still in bed, just in different positions now.

Chester lays under him, arms sprawled out, fingers gripping the sheets below him.

Mike rests on top of him, grinding carefully against chester’s crotch.

Both are only in boxers.

Mikes hands roam over Chester’s upper body before resting on his waist, holding them tight while repeatedly rolling his own hips down against Chester’s.

The sounds Chester lets out are heavenly. Completely different from how he sounds in the studio. That angry, screaming voice he knows from Chester recording songs turned vulnerable and soft now.

Chester lifts his legs and closes the around Mikes hips, throwing his head back and pressing it into the pillow.

Mike picks up pace, now grinding harder into Chester.

Mike can hear himself moan. The version of him that he’s seeing, lets out sounds he’s never heard before. Not with other partners, not alone. They sound desperate. Like he’s close to cumming right in his boxers.

Chester’s sounds are the same as they were in the last two scenes. Soft, vulnerable, whimpers and moans running out of his mouth.

He can hear Chester moan his name. He can see Chester moving his hands up to grab his biceps. He can hear Chester’s moans and whimpers getting louder and he knows Chester is close.

But right before he can watch Chester fully unravel, the world turns black again.

The room around him shakes and before he can process it, he’s back in his bedroom. Back on the bed with a clothed Chester sleeping next to him.

Mike breathes deep. His hand sliding up to touch his forehead which is suddenly slick with sweat.

He sighs.

Mike realizes how the scenes turn more intimate and desperate with time.

How his own clothes seem to get less with each moment.

He looks down on Chester again. He moves slightly, hips rolling into the bed and his breathing stuttering.

Mike sighs again. Was Chester dreaming? Was he seeing the same things as Mike? Or was he just moving in his sleep?

Mike closes his eyes and leans back onto the bed.

The feeling of being powerless about this whole thing was slowly killing him.

What can he do to make this stop? What do take scenes mean? Will the scenes increase with time? Will they get more? Will they get more intimate and sexual? Will Chester see them too? Does Chester see them too?

Before Mike can mentally chatter to himself some more, sleep pulls him in and his body goes slack against the bed. Right next to the warmth of Chester sleeping body.

The fourth vision

The next morning comes quickly. Too quickly.

Mike still feels restless and tired when he awakes.

He turns to Chester, who’s still asleep and seemingly moved even closer to Mike during the night.

Mike sighs and strokes along Chester’s back, making him stir and slowly wake up.

“Good morning Chazzy” Mike whispers.

Chester hums and presses himself even closer to Mike.

“Good morning.” he replies, although it doesn’t seem like he’s fully awake yet.

“How’d you sleep?” Mike asks him, wondering if he feels as restless as Mike does.

Chester hums again. “Meh. Too many clothes. Usually I sleep in just my boxers.” Chester replied, resting his head on Mikes Chest.

Mikes breath hitches slightly. He hopes Chester doesn’t hear.

The thought of Chester sleeping next to him in just his boxers, brings back the memories from last night.

After what feels like an eternity, both men mange to get up and get ready for the day.

Mike occupies himself in the kitchen with making coffee for them while Chester occupies the bathroom.

Mike forces himself to shut out the memories of what he’s seen last night and tries to focus on the plans they’ve made for the studio later.

“Mike? Michael? Mikeyyyy?” Chester rips him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” Mike turns to him.

How long has he been standing there in the doorway? How long has he been trying to get my attention? Mike wonders.

“Man, don’t you hear the phone ringing?” Chester laughs and walks towards the table to grab the coffee Mike has set down.

“Oh.” Mike just said and walks out of the kitchen towards the phone to pick it up.

How deep was I in my thoughts that I didn’t even hear the phone?

It was Joe. He called to tell Mike that he and Phoenix were sick. Brad and Rob decided they should all stay home then.

“Great” Mike thought. Now he has to spend the entire day with Chester. Something he usually loves. But spending the entire day alone with Chester means no distraction. No distraction preventing those moments.

He walks back to Chester and visibly groans.

“What’s wrong?” Chester asks him, looking concerned.

God.

Please never lose that innocence, Chester.

“That was Joe. He and Phi are sick, so we’re staying home today.” Mike replies, grabbing his mug and sitting across from Chester at the table.

Chester throws him a wide smile.

“Cool. What will we do today?” He asks Mike.

Mike smiles at him, too. Although it’s most likely not too convincing.

Please never lose that happiness and enthusiasm either, Chester.

Mike shrugs.

“Whatever you wanna do Chazzy” He tells him.

The hours pass slowly. Mike studies everything Chester does and says throughout the day, paying attention to every single detail.

Chester seems relaxed and happy. Most of all he seems to feel safe. And as much as it usually makes Mike happy to see him like that, that sight stabs him right into his heart today.

The fear that ate at him whenever he thought about Chester maybe not feeling safe with him anymore if he found out about Mikes weird visions, leaves him restless today.

“Mikey what’s going on with you today?” Chester asks him as they sit on his couch, watching some

horror movie.

“What do you mean?” Mike asks him.

Please don’t realise, please don’t realise, please don’t realise.

“You’re acting weird today? Did I.. did I do something wrong?” Chester asks him. Guilt and fear crawling up his body immediately. What if he managed to upset the first ever person that doesn’t seem to hate him?

“What? No! Chester no, don’t worry you didn’t do anything.” Mike is quick to reply.

“It’s just.. I don’t even know. I was excited to the studio today, you know? It bugs me that we have to stay home today.” Mike admits.

Chester frowns. “I’m happy we get to spend time today. I didn’t really feel like working today.” Hw tells Mike.

Mike doesn’t reply.

If you knew what I have to deal with lately, you’d feel the same.

He doesn’t tell Chester that, though. He keeps it locked up inside.

Sleep pulls them both in quickly.

Chester had moved and lied his head on Mikes lap a while ago. And Mike can hear him snoring slightly.

Mike wakes up and faces the TV. The movie they had watched had ended and something else was playing now. He has no idea how long he’s been asleep, but when he looks down at Chester, he’s still sleeping peacefully on his lap.

God, please let Chester stay at peace forever

Mike reaches down to stroke Chester’s hair, but the second he touches him, the TV flickers again.

“God no. Not again” Mike prays.

Unheard, his vision turns black again. The air grows cold and the room shakes and before Mike can fight against it, his next vision takes hold of him.

Mike sees himself laying on top of Chester.

They’re both naked this time. Chester legs are spread wide. Mike sits in between them.

“Chazzy..” Mike whispers.

“Please” Chester begs him, whispering too.

And next thing Mike sees is how the other version of himself very slowly pushes his length into Chester’s body.

Mike hears Chester’s breath hitch. A silent moan escapes his mouth. His eyes are closed. Head thrown against the pillow.

Mike moves closer and closer until he stills. Their bodies flushed together.

Mike pulls back and pushes back in. Chester moans loud at that. His hands fly up to grab Mikes arms again.

Mike moves down to kiss Chester’s lips.

They move in slow rhythm. Chester’s high pitched moans and Mikes low grunts fill the room.

“Please” Chester begs again, but before anything more happens, the air grows cold again, the room shakes, Mikes vision turns black and suddenly he’s back on the sofa.

Mike blinks.

His breathing is heavy.

He looks into nothing for a few seconds before looking down at Chester.

He needs answers.

All the things he’s seen so far were weird, but now they had sex.

It was the first time Mike had heard their voices during those visions.

It felt real. Mike could feel Chester’s body in his hands.

This has to be more than just imaginations or scenarios in his head.

This must’ve been some sort of memory.

He shakes Chester’s shoulders, trying to wake him up.

Chester groans before slowly stirring awake.

“Chester!” Mike says, out of breath.

“What? I had the nicest dream ever, Mikey, why’d you wake me up?” Chester frowns.

And before either of them know what’s happening, Mike pulls him up and kisses chester on the lips.

“M-Mike?” Chester is confused. Mike has never been so straight forward with him. Kisses were usually gentle with them.

Mike pulls him in again, pressing his mouth onto Chester’s who gasps into the kiss.

Mike takes the opportunity and snakes his tongue in between Chester’s lips, who lets out a moan,

swallows by Mikes mouth.

“What are you doing?” Chester asks him when Mike finally lets go off his mouth.

“I have no idea. I only know this is right.” Mike replies before pulling Chester’s face in again, immediately going for another deep kiss.

Chester moans again and one of Mikes hands finds its way towards Chester’s waist, pulling him even closer to himself.

Chester finally kisses back, shoving his confusion and any thought about how this could affect the band and how wrong it could possibly be, aside.

This is Mike. How could this be wrong?

Chester lets Mike pull him onto his lap.

Chester relaxes into Mikes hold.

Mikes hand travel up Chester’s back and back down to his waist again.

“Mikey” Chester whispers when Mike lets go off his mouth to take a deep breath.

“I can’t explain it Chester. It feels right to do this.” Mike tells him, out of breath.

Chester leans down this time to kiss Mike.

“What are we doing?” Chester asks him.

Mike had never kissed him so intense. He has never pulled him onto his lap before and practically made out with him.

He thinks about what this whole situation is gonna turn out to be, but it strangely doesn’t push him away.

It feels so right. For both of them.

“Are we…are we gonna have sex?” Chester whispers.

Mike swallows.

“Only if you want to.” He says and Chester nods.

Mike leans in and kisses Chester again, gentle this time.

One of his hands slide from Chester’s waist down to his butt and Chester shudders.

Chester moves his hips, grinding down against Mike.

He lets another moan slip from his lips, right into Mikes mouth.

“Fuck.. no. Not here.” Mike says out of breath.

“Get up.” he tells Chester who slips from Mikes lap.

Mike gets up and his hands find their way to Chester’s waist again, thumbs stroking it.

He walks Chester backwards into his bedroom and gently lets Chester down onto the bed.

Chester looks up at Mike. Eyes wide open.

Chester knows he should be nervous. And he is. But this feels so right. He wants this. It feels right to he touched by Mike.

Mike leans down and places himself between Chester’s thighs.

He kisses Chester again before moving to his neck, placing kisses there and licking the warm skin.

Chester lets out more moans at that, cocking his face to the side to give Mike more room to kiss.

Mike hands wander back to Chester’s waist, grabbing hold of his shirt and slowly pulling it off.

His lips move over Chester’s neck, over his collarbones, down to his chest and stopping at a nipple, kissing and licking it.

Chester’s moans turns louder, never expecting himself to be so sensitive there.

Mike begins sucking at his nipple while his left hand goes to play with the other.

“Aaah, Mikey.” Chester moans.

Mike mouth moves to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, before moving down over Chester sharp rips, placing kisses everywhere.

Chester whimpers at the worship. Nobody else has ever taken so much time with him.

He knows his moans are beyond desperate at this point, but he doesn’t care. Mike wants this too. He started this. He must enjoy it too.

Chester’s thoughts are interrupted when he feels Mikes fingers on his waistband.

“You tell me immediately if you want to stop, okay?” Mike asks him.

Chester can feel himself tear up at this. Nobody has ever said this. Nobody has ever given him the chance to stay stop before.

Chester nods and only then, Mike continues with his action.

He pulls down Chester pants, but leaves his boxers on.

His mouth moves lower, kissing the new skin that shows before moving to Chester thighs, kissing along the sensitive skin, his hands stroking the parts his mouth couldn’t reach.

The whimpers Chester lets out are heavenly to Mike. Even more beautiful than what he had heard in his visions.

“Chazzy” Mike whispers, pressing his face against Chester’s thigh, looking up at him.

“Please” Chester begs.

Mike pulls down Chester’s boxers, sliding them off and throwing them away.

“You’re so beautiful” Mike whispers when he studies Chester’s body closely.

“Are you still sure?” Mike asks and Chester nods again.

Mikes right hand moves to Chester’s length, stroking it just like he did in his vision weeks ago.

Chester’s reaction is immediate. His eyes close and he moans loudly.

All the fear Chester felt falls off him completely now. Mike can feel that Chester trusts him.

Mike moves down and kisses around Chester’s length, over his balls until he reaches Chester’s butt, slowly spreading his cheeks.

Mike has no experience, no idea how to handle another man’s body. especially one that has been misused to long ago.

His next move is careful. He lets go off Chester’s dick to spread Chester’s legs more, diving in and kissing around Chester’s opening.

Mike kisses it, then slowly lets his tongue run over it. Chester whimpers. Mike does it again and again until he hears Chester moan.

Sure now, Mike gets braver and starts licking all over Chester’s hole, tongue licking broad lines over it before giving it quick whips. Mike takes his time.

The taste is immaculate. It doesn’t taste like anything, but clean skin, but the fact that this is Chester - his Chester - makes it nearly delicious.

He sucks on Chester opening then slides his tongue over it again before stiffening it and pushing it into him.

Chester moans loud at that.

It’s weird, foreign, nearly filthy to Chester, but so good. Nobody ever had done this. And all thoughts about how it must taste for Mike and how weird it could be for him vanish when he feels Mike moan right into him.

Mike pulls Chester’s cheeks part further and pushes his tongue impossibly deeper, now licking the inside.

Chester is sure he won’t last long if Mike continues, but Mike only stops when Chester is shaking.

He pulls away, also out of breath and reaches into his bedside table, pulling out a bottle of lube.

Chester, flushed red, skin dripping with sweat and his thighs still parted wide, follows mikes moves.

He watched as Mike slicks up three fingers and reaches down in between Chester’s thighs again.

Chester feels one of Mikes fingers rub his hole and

can’t help but moan at the feeling. Then he feels the finger push into him.

The lube gave way, but it still felt weird and foreign. It’s been years since he’s had anything in there, but the lube and Mikes carefulness made it easier.

Mike slowly drags the finger in and out, before adding a second.

He scissors them apart inside and strokes Chester’s walls.

Chester lets out a long drawn moan at the feeling and lays his head back onto the pillow, spreading

his legs even wider for Mike.

He feels mike push a third finger in and feels them scissoring apart inside him.

It’s still weird, but what’s even weirder is that he enjoys feeling Mike massage his insides.

Mike slowly pulls his fingers out and Chester opens his eyes to look up at him.

Mike looks him deep in his eyes.

Chester wants to beg again. Wants to move up to take off Mikes shirt, but Mike already does it, himself.

Mike slowly opens his pants and pulls them down, letting his own erection spring out.

Chester watches as Mike moves down for another lick over Chester hole before moving back up and slicking his length in a generous amount of lube.

Before Chester can beg again, Mike already moves and Chester feels the tip of Mikes dick on his opening.

“Tell me if you want to stop” Mike reminds him again and when Chester nods, he slowly pushes the head inside Chester’s opening.

Chester’s eyes close immediately. This is different from back then.

He had never used lube. He had never prepared Chester. And he didn’t push in slowly. He forced himself into Chester.

Chester tries to relax, but the stretch he feels as Mikes thick length enters his body is immense and he can’t stop the tears that leave his eyes.

Mike notices and wipes them with his thumb.

He strokes chester’s face and waist while very slowly making his way inside, stopping once he is fully inside.

Neither move. Neither talk. The only noise filling

the room is Chester’s breathing.

Mike moves down to kiss him again.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Mike whispers and slowly pulls out before pushing in again.

Chester whimpers. It feels good, but the unfamiliar stretch is still there.

Mike thrusts and thrusts into Chester’s tight body, now letting out moans, too.

Chester’s hands fly up to grab Mikes biceps, fingers digging into his muscles.

Mike slowly picks up pace and shifts the angle slightly, driving even deeper into Chester.

Chester, who tries to focus only on the pleasure and not on the sting, moans when Mike enters him

deeper.

He can feel Mike thrusting quicker, focusing on the feeling of his length rubbing over his walls until MIke hits a certain spot in Chester that makes all the pain vanish.

Chester screams out loud as if he’d been torn apart, motivating Mike to hit that spot over and over again.

Chester feels the burn in his abdomen, he knows he’s close and by the way his walls tighten around Mike, Mike knows, too.

Mike grunts as he thrust even harder into Chester, hitting that spot repeatedly until Chester lets out a loud, high pitched scream and finishes all over his own stomach.

Mike sits up slightly, pulls Chester’s hips even closer against his lap and thrusts harder and faster.

Chester moans in over stimulation, tightening more around Mike until Mike lets out a loud groan and finishes inside Chester, filling him up.

And for the first time ever, Chester doesn’t feel disgusted and ashamed by himself for reaching an orgasm while having sex with a man. He doesn’t

feel disgusted by feeling their sperm fill his insides. He doesn’t feel disgusted when that man collapses onto his body, because this very man is Mike; his best friend, his anchor, his safe space. The man he trusts the most.

Mike kisses Chester again.

“Are you okay?” He asks him and strokes Chester’s side.

Chester, with tears in his eyes, smiles brightly and nods.

“I love you Chazzy” Mike whispers and kisses his cheek.

“I love you too, Mikey” Chester whispers.

And finally, Mike understands.

He understands now that these visions were supposed to happen. This was supposed to happen.

He realises that Chester was in fact supposed to show up to their audition. Chester and Mike were supposed to meet.

This was destiny.