Linkin Park, Brad/Chester, #012 Orange
Title: Dressed to impress
Fandom: Linkin Park
Characters: Brad, Chester
Prompt: #012 Orange
Word Count: 330
Rating: R
Summary: His tie is orange, burnt orange, and it's ugly.
Brad’s tie is orange. And it’s horrendous. It’s smooth, and creases when Chester grabs it in his fist and tugs. Pulls him closer, whispers, “You look so hot. If it weren’t for the tie I’d fuck you.”
“It’s burnt orange,” Brad says, bristling ever so slightly.
“It’s ugly,” Chester corrects, “But I can overlook that. Trouble is, we’re now going to be late.”
Late to their own album launch. They were late last time, too. Meteora, thousands of people throwing a party for them and they were late. Mike turned beet red and refused to speak to them except to tell Brad to tuck in his shirt and Chester to wipe the smile off his face.
It’s hard to look angst ridden and distressed right after you fuck in the venue parking lot.
This time, though, they have to be punctual. Have to show everybody they new and improved, shiny, drug free Linkin Park. The one where nobody fucks in cars. Nobody fucks, period. They have wives, and kids and their great fans.
The new and improved Linkin Park are not gay. Not at all.
The club is packed with producers and artists congratulating them and Chester smiles pleasantly, links his fingers with Brad’s out of sight. Someone says “Hey,” and, “Cool tie, dude.”
Brad positively beams and Chester snorts and rolls his eyes, “It’s burnt orange,” he says.
After an hour or so they sneak off to the bathroom and Chester drags Brad into a stall by his ugly tie. They make out, give head, a rim job. Can’t fuck; too scared of getting caught. They exchange fast hand jobs and slow open mouthed kisses.
Chester pulls Brad’s tie tight as he comes and the guitarist chokes, splutters, moans lowly.
They head outside, or rather Chester heads to smoke and Brad follows him out, and they watch the sun set. Brad grins, “Look,” he says, “Burnt orange.”
And Chester, he takes a drag off his cigarette, and says nothing.
Fandom: Linkin Park
Characters: Brad, Chester
Prompt: #012 Orange
Word Count: 330
Rating: R
Summary: His tie is orange, burnt orange, and it's ugly.
Brad’s tie is orange. And it’s horrendous. It’s smooth, and creases when Chester grabs it in his fist and tugs. Pulls him closer, whispers, “You look so hot. If it weren’t for the tie I’d fuck you.”
“It’s burnt orange,” Brad says, bristling ever so slightly.
“It’s ugly,” Chester corrects, “But I can overlook that. Trouble is, we’re now going to be late.”
Late to their own album launch. They were late last time, too. Meteora, thousands of people throwing a party for them and they were late. Mike turned beet red and refused to speak to them except to tell Brad to tuck in his shirt and Chester to wipe the smile off his face.
It’s hard to look angst ridden and distressed right after you fuck in the venue parking lot.
This time, though, they have to be punctual. Have to show everybody they new and improved, shiny, drug free Linkin Park. The one where nobody fucks in cars. Nobody fucks, period. They have wives, and kids and their great fans.
The new and improved Linkin Park are not gay. Not at all.
The club is packed with producers and artists congratulating them and Chester smiles pleasantly, links his fingers with Brad’s out of sight. Someone says “Hey,” and, “Cool tie, dude.”
Brad positively beams and Chester snorts and rolls his eyes, “It’s burnt orange,” he says.
After an hour or so they sneak off to the bathroom and Chester drags Brad into a stall by his ugly tie. They make out, give head, a rim job. Can’t fuck; too scared of getting caught. They exchange fast hand jobs and slow open mouthed kisses.
Chester pulls Brad’s tie tight as he comes and the guitarist chokes, splutters, moans lowly.
They head outside, or rather Chester heads to smoke and Brad follows him out, and they watch the sun set. Brad grins, “Look,” he says, “Burnt orange.”
And Chester, he takes a drag off his cigarette, and says nothing.