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слэшны фик про Майка шиноду...Первое предложение повергло мну в истерику

Четверг, 03 Июля 2008 г. 10:42 + в цитатник
Страница_удаляется все записи автора Title: Behind Closed Doors
Author: Jules
Rating: R
Pairing: Implied Mike/Eminem
Disclamer: DON'T KNOW, DON'T OWN, DON'T SUE
Discription: This these are the guys' thoughts and feelings about the relationship.



They thought it was just a phase. Mike was hanging out with him in order to expand his pool of friends in the hip hop world. Eminem was a name any up and coming rapper would want in the final credits of their first album.

But Mike wasn’t an up and coming rapper. He was the emcee of rock super group Linkin Park, and driving force behind Fort Minor. The Rising Tied was doing well on the charts and getting rave reviews from the underground hip hop world. What did he need Eminem for?

Brad was the first to find out. He went over to Mike’s house one Saturday afternoon to discuss some new guitar samples he had recently recorded. Wrinkling his nose at the black Escalade that was seemingly becoming a new fixture in Mike’s driveway overnight, he let himself into the house. All was silent as Brad grabbed a drink from the fridge before heading upstairs.

The studio was empty but the bedroom door was open a crack. Brad smiled to himself, thinking that the older man was still in bed since he had taken to partying with his new hip-hop affiliate, who also crashed in Mike's spare room from time to time. Ready with a witty remark and with his hand on the doorknob, Brad prepared to enter the room. Peering though the crack first, he got the shock of a lifetime.

Mike was in bed but he obviously wasn’t suffering from a hang over. He had company. Mike lay on his back; his legs wrapped high around his partners rib cage, face twisted in pleasurable pain as one Marshall Mathers eased himself into the slightly smaller body. Brad had watched with wide eyes as the blonde rubbed Mike’s stomach and kissed his face, allowing him time to adjust before he even thought about moving. After 5 minutes, Mike had given Marshall permission to move. With one hand on Mike’s hip for balance, he began to thrust, keeping things slow.

“Faster… Marshall, please.” Mike gasped breathlessly, his eyes screwed shut. Brad had watched while the older man ran his hands up Mike’s sides and along his arms to reach his hands, which were clutching the sheets with a white-knuckle grip. Marshall coaxed his fingers free and slipped their fingers together, resting their joined hands on the pillow.

“Look at me, baby.” Marshall’s voice was softer, gentler then Brad ever thought possible. Mike did as he was asked and his face lit up with a sated grin of happiness. Marshall returned the smile and leaned down, claiming the younger man’s lips in a soft kiss.

Brad was certain his eyes were as wide as saucers by this point. He stumbled away from the door with all the grace of a elephant, while still making sure he didn’t make any noise, and fled the house quickly. That was the last time he came over without calling first.

Brad never mentioned what he saw that day to Mike. He wasn’t sure if it was something he ever wanted anyone to know about, and therefore didn’t want to embarrass his friend.

The rest of the band was alerted to the relationship a couple weeks later. Chester was the messenger. The band was hanging out at the singer’s house one lazy Saturday afternoon when he dropped the bomb while Mike was using the bathroom. The three band members who were still in the dark paled in unison as Chester told his story.

Chester had been at Mike’s house writing lyrics. The emcee left his notebook in his bedroom and the older man had offered to retrieve it, just as long as Mike fetched them a snack. Mike agreed and Chester ran up the stairs two at a time. He was pulling the black spiral notebook from under a book when a dent in the wall caught his attention. There was writing above the mark, and Chester knelt on the bed to get a closer look. He read it over once and then a second and third time to make sure he had gotten it right. Certain he was reading it correctly, Chester had sunk back on his bottom and suppressed the urge to cry and vomit simultaneously.

Courtesy of the real Slim Shady.

The tiny, all capital letters was undeniably Mike’s writing. Chester had fled from the room and somehow managed to compose himself before reaching the living room.

Chester finished his story just as Mike returned from the bathroom with fresh beers for everyone in his hands. After handing them out, Mike excused himself from the party citing the excuse that he had matters to attend to in the studio. They acted as if they bought the excuse but the guys knew the emcee’s real motives for leaving. There was a black Escalade in his driveway.

The band got blissfully drunk that night, for different reasons. All of which were Mike-centric.

Brad knew of the relationship between his best friend and the rap superstar the longest. He settled into a comfortable realization that he would eventually get over it. He and Mike were best friends, after all, and best friends supported everything the other did. No matter how crazy it sounded. This was beyond crazy, in Brad’s opinion, though. Eminem wasn’t Mike’s best friend, and Brad clung to the saying ‘Bro’s before ho’s’ like a lifeline. Until the relationship collapsed, Brad would sit idly by, acting completely naïve to what was really going on, waiting for the day the black Escalade would leave Mike’s driveway and never return.

Chester was the loud-mouthed front man of the group, always upfront with his feelings and never one to keep his emotions locked up. It was always different when Mike was around, though. The younger man always left the singer feeling tongue-tied and frightened he would say something stupid. But once Chester got a couple beers down his throat, it loosened his tongue enough for him to be able to the emcee that he loved him. Mike’s reactions were always the same, though; a hearty laugh, a clap on the back, and a good natured ‘I love you too, man’. Mike always thought he was joking, that the drunken confessions were made to draw attention back to the singer. Chester wasn’t joking though. His feelings were true and honest. Eminem didn’t love Mike, though, and the singer was sure of it.

From the very beginning of the band, Joe and Mike were the creative forces behind everything they did. Whether it is with art or music, they did it together. During the last two albums, their producer didn’t know anything about electronic sounds, so it was just he and Mike in the studio working. It was in that type of working situation that Joe had Mike’s full attention. He would often find himself coming up with new ideas or drawings just so he could get Mike alone. They would laugh and joke around for hours and that time they spent together had been drastically cut in half once Eminem stepped into the picture. The time he would spend with Joe messing with his vinyls was spent creating samples with the older emcee. Joe felt replaced. He was also filled with hope, though; Linkin Park was making a new album. Joe would be eagerly waiting with a bunch of new ideas and a fresh sketchbook full of drawings he could impress Mike with. He was very much content in his knowledge that Eminem could never come between their art.

Dave was the most sensitive of the group. He didn’t react very well to change, so news of the relationship hit him especially hard. For days he would sit in a quiet corner of his house and cry. He cried over the fact that things may never be the same again. He cried over his fear for Mike’s safety… Eminem ran with a particularly hard group of guys, after all, and plus there were the gun charges. Dave was often plagued with nightmares about Mike’s death from a stray bullet. He also took Eminem’s lyrics to heart. If that man didn’t have a second thought about raping his mother or killing his ex-wife, what would he do to Mike? Dave just wanted things to be the way they were before. Before this bleach blonde devil interrupted the steady routine of their lives.

Rob was the strong silent one of the group. At first glance one would think the young drummer was okay with the relationship but it was all just an elaborate façade. Rob was anything but okay. He was madly in love with Mike but unlike Chester’s constant drunken admissions, Rob didn’t say a word. He opted to admire from afar and every time their eyes met from over his drum kit, he had to fight to contain his excitement. Another reason he had never voiced his true feelings was he always thought his friend was completely straight. Mike had a wide circle of female friends, including some models, and Rob had always been certain that the emcee was involved with at least one of them. When he found out about Mike’s relationship with Eminem, it felt like his heart had been ripped in two. The saying ‘if I can’t have you, no one can’ suddenly took on a whole new meaning. He had dedicated an entire notebook to developing murder plots and had even scouted out places to dump the body. Whenever he would gather the courage to go through with a scheme, his conscious would come into play and he would back off. He could never kill Mike; he did love him after all. He wasn’t too sure if Eminem’s felt the same way, though.

The five men never shared their secret feelings of the bizarre relationship between the two emcees to each other. They certainly never told Mike that they knew what was going on, happy in their knowledge that he was completely ignorant to what was really going on in their heads.

Together they all lay in wait. Waiting for the day the relationship would crumble and things would return to the way they should be.
Рубрики:  эффект
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Rei-sama   обратиться по имени Четверг, 03 Июля 2008 г. 18:03 (ссылка)
Хммм... Лень переводить:((
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