Secrets

Part Five: OML -- Worries

April 10, 2017

Mike grinned as Chester rubbed his hands over his own body, singing out, "I want, sexual healing... sexual healing."

"Yeah, picture it, picture it," Mike said, playing along, nodding his head and squeezing his eyes shut in mock bliss. His hands were still tingling from where he'd grabbed onto Chester's knee just a few moments ago.

Brad rolled his eyes at the pair on the couch and said playfully, "we have zero points, you guys. Zero. What's the next question?" He turned to the interviewer expectantly.

"What color is Chester's favorite underwear?"

The dancing and rubbing stopped and Mike felt stunned for a moment, his eyes wide before he looked across Chester to lock eyes with Brad. I can't talk about Chester's underwear on camera!

"Sparkly?" Brad said with a shrug. He looked as though he had never once considered the color of his own underwear, much less Chester's.

"Is rainbow a color?" Mike laughed uncomfortably and kept his eyes on Brad, even though he could suddenly feel Chester's body heat next to him. On his arm. His thigh. Their knees kept touching and Mike couldn't stop thinking about how their knees touched under the blankets in hotel beds.

Chester giggled. "Rainbow is my favorite color, by the way, that's what I tell my kids." He looked back and forth between Brad and Mike, leaning more in Mike's direction.

Suddenly Brad had the look of epiphany. "Sparkly rainbow!" he exclaimed.

"I wish I had-" Chester started, but was interrupted by Mike's thoughts, and he turned his gaze from Brad back to Mike as his sentence drifted away.

"I feel like he has a bunch of red, like bright red underwear, though," Mike said slowly. "I think that's a real thing." He tried to look nonchalant, but the question had thrown him. What color are Chester's favorite underwear. That's as bad as asking what I sing when I feel sexy in the shower. Sexy in the shower! Damn Chester, over there touching himself...

"Ok. Let's go with that. I trust you." Brad sat back and looked at their interviewer.

Mike woke with a start, his eyes jumping open and blinking rapidly in the darkness of the bedroom, his heart racing. He blew out a deep breath before he looked over at Anna. Thank goodness she's still asleep. I wake her up way too much. All these dreams lately...

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and took a deep breath, acutely awake of the erection he'd woken with, his brain scrambling to put his dream in order. Fucking bandmate game. Such stupid questions. And the way Brad was looking at me, and Chester all up on my side... That was weeks ago, and look at me. He scrubbed his hands over the top of his head and stood up, reaching down to adjust himself through his boxer briefs as he made his way across the bedroom and stepped into the bathroom.

There was a soft glow from the nightlight next to Anna's vanity, and Mike didn't turn the light on. He glanced in the mirror briefly, barely able to make out the small dark spots of his nipples against the nearly hairless pale skin of his chest in the dim lighting. He stood at his sink for a moment, a little disoriented, as the memory of Chester's body beside his faded and his mind became more alert, the dreamy arousal he'd woken with calming as well.

If Chester knew how many times I've woken up with a hard on because of him... Mike stopped himself from going down that road. That's not normal, Mike. Dreaming about your best friend and waking up ready to jerk off is not normal. Even if you're secretly in love with him. Secretly in love and can't do anything about it but jerk off to your own screwed up thoughts. He pulled a face and tried to think about anything other than the way Chester's neck looked when he laughed in his dream. I just want to bite his neck. Just once. God. He'd think I was insane. I don't think I could get away with that, even if we were teasing and messing around.