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Perfect	By : DeadArtist Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Linkin Park Views: 1285 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Linkin Park. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Perfect
- 1
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of the characters portrayed in the following piece of fiction.

~*~

He noticeably flinched as another string of profanities fell from the younger man’s mouth. He closed his eyes as he was forcibly moved into the position the younger man wanted.

“Open your eyes Chester” He heard. He really didn’t want to. He had spent the past six months with eyes closed. Blocking out the angered screams and piercing words whenever he fucked up.

He seemed to do that a lot.

He would close his eyes and let his mind drift to a time before the constant pain he felt at the hands of his best friend. Whenever he heard someone make a joke when he would arrive thirty minutes late to an important meeting, they would all say the same thing.

They would all assume his vanity had prevented him being on time. They would all say that if it hadn’t been for his obsession with his appearance, they wouldn’t have missed that perfect opportunity they had all been waiting for.

He would simply close his eyes and submerge himself in his own world. He would try as hard as he could not to make eye contact with Mike, for it was all his fault. For it was with Mike the true vanity lay.

Mike had always been a perfectionist, it was no secret. It was obvious to his band mates, friends, family and fans. Every lyric that he wrote had to be meaningful and perfect. Every piece of art he made had to be perfect.

He strove for perfection so much so that it was an obsession.

No one knew how deep it went, except for Chester. Since the moment Mike had first met him, he knew he had found what he had always been looking for.

Perfection.

He found in Chester something which he could not find in himself. His own insecurities made sure of that. But he knew that Chester was confident enough. He knew that Chester could be easily manipulated.

Chester was beautiful. He was strong. He had gone through so much trauma in his life yet he was still able to live day after day. He was everything Mike wasn’t. He was everything Mike so desperately wanted.

He was perfect. Almost.

Well, that was how Mike saw it.

It was that almost that got to Mike. He knew Chester could so easily be everything he had ever looked for. But there was something about him that he could never quite put his finger on.

There was a flaw in his perfection. A flaw that had to be fixed.

So each day before Chester would leave whichever hotel they happened to be staying at that night. Mike would inspect him. He would make sure his hair was just how he wanted it. He would make sure his clothing would match, and if something wasn’t right with Chester, he would fix it. No matter how late it made them.

When they would eventually arrive, Chester would get the blame. Just like he always did. And he truly hated it.

Chester was brought back to reality by a harsh slap to the face. He shook his head slightly, his cheek stinging from the force of the blow and looked up with glassy eyes at the younger man who stood over him, eyes narrowed, hands balled into fists.

He had fucked up. Again.

Only this time he received no degrading words of hate. For the first time, Mike had hit him.

He looked away from the angered face of his best friend and willed the tears burning his eyes not to fall. He couldn’t cry in front of him. He wouldn’t.

Mike growled deep in his throat and pulled Chester to sit at the end of the bed. He brought his hand up to fix the lock of blonde hair that had fallen out of place.

He looked up again when he felt the younger man step back. He watched as Mike crossed the room to stand in front of the canvass that was propped up on an easel in the center of the room.

This was what Mike lived for. He wanted to paint perfection. He wanted to make his perfection permanent.

Chester watched silently as Mike picked up his discarded paintbrush and brought it to the canvass before him. He paused slightly before shifting his gaze to where Chester sat on the bed. After a few seconds of tense scrutiny he began to paint.

Chester watched transfixed. If there was something that he enjoyed doing, it was watching as Mike painted. He could see the younger man put his heart and soul into the picture he painted. It almost made him feel honored to be the subject.

Almost.

For he knew that no matter how hard Mike tried, he could never find perfection in one such as himself. That was what scared him.

He jumped as Mike growled again. There was something wrong. It was that one thing about Chester that he could never quite understand again. It was that one blemish he couldn’t cover.

Chester cringed as Mike cursed him out loud. He watched warily as Mike stormed towards him. He tried to block out the hurtful words that fell from the younger man’s mouth. But as hard as he tried, they still stung.

He wasn’t prepared for the fist that flew at him, causing him to fall back onto the bed. This time he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. He sniffed weakly as he watched Mike wreck his bedroom.

He done nothing but cry as Mike destroyed everything he held dear. He was unable to do anything more, and he hated himself for it.

He closed his eyes again as Mike finally came to a stop. He could hear the heavy breathing of the younger man. Then silence.

He held his breath in the hope that if he stayed quiet enough, Mike wouldn’t lash out at him again. He prepared himself for the worst. Nothing happened.

Minutes felt like hours as he lay, waiting for something, anything to happen, but nothing did.

He finally opened his eyes to see Mike staring at him with an expression he had never seen before, he let out the breath he had been holding and pushed himself up into a sitting position slowly as he continued to watch the other man.

Mike had come to a realisation. After years of searching for the one thing that had held back his work of perfection, he had finally found it.

Chester was frozen as Mike stated to walk towards him with slow steps. He was afraid, he had no idea what his friend was capable of.

Mike stopped as he reached the edge of the bed. He paused for a few moments before climbing up onto the bed. He made his way up to he was face to face with Chester who watched his every move with wide eyes.

Mike brought his hand up to the older man’s face and touched his cheek softly, tracing the faint marks of a soon to be bruise.

Chester’s breath hitched as Mike moved his hand down to his chest and pushed him back so he was lying back on the bed before crawling on top of him.

The blonde man tried to say something, tried to ask Mike what he was doing but was silenced by the younger man’s lips touching his own. Chester froze; he had no idea what to do or how to react so he simply lay there and let Mike kiss him.

After a few minutes Mike pulled away, gazing down in wonder at the man beneath him. Chester stared back, questioning him with his eyes. The younger man simply shook his head and brought his hand up to Chester’s face, tilting his head up and joining their lips again.

This time, Chester kissed back. They shared long open mouthed kisses as Mike’s hands explored the older man’s body. Chester found himself unable to resist the younger man and let his body be touched by the other man.

He was endlessly confused with the whole situation, even more so when he felt Mike’s hand ease its way into his boxers. He gasped as Mike began to stroke him.

Chester’s was split. Part of him wanted to pull away and scream at Mike for even daring to do what he was currently doing, but the other part of him wanted to stay right where he was and let Mike continue because even though he knew it was wrong, it felt so good.

As Mike picked up the pace with his hand, Chester felt his other hand coming to rest at the base of his neck and the other man's mouth moved to his neck.

He arched his back as he felt his orgasm build up inside him. He barely noticed Mike’s hand as it moved from the back of his neck to the front. Chester moaned loudly as he was brought close to the edge by Mike’s hand.

Mike took his chance and while Chester was caught up in his own rapture he pressed his finger into the hollow of the blonde’s neck. Chester looked up as Mike’s finger pressed harder into his neck, cutting off his air supply and speeding up his movements with his other hand.

Chester arched his back again as he found his release, the force of his orgasm knocking all strength from his already weakened body. He began to panic as Mike's finger only pressed harder into his neck. As soon as he found his strength again he brought his hands up in an attempt to move Mike's hand.

He fought weakly as tears fell from his eyes. He stared up at Mike with blurred vision, his body feeling weak, he felt so tired.

Mike leaned down so his lips were next to Chester’s ear. “Go to sleep, my beauty”. He whispered softly and watched with a small smile on his face as Chester’s eyes closed and his chest rose for the last time as he took his last breath.

Mike pulled his hand away when he was positive Chester was gone. He moved his hand up and fixed the blonde hair which had been moved out of place.

He smiled as he looked over the still form once again.

He rose from his position beside Chester and walked back to his canvass where he began to paint.

When he looked at Chester now, he knew he was flawless. He was truly perfection.

He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as finally, after years of searching and trying, he painted the lifeless body on the bed before him.

His beauty.

His perfection.

~*~
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Perfect