A/N: Not mine, never will be mine. Damn.

Chester looked around the room in astonishment. When Mike had told him that he had been redecorating the spare room, he had thought that the emcee would be indulging himself in the Muriel that he had been threatening to paint on the large expanse of white wall. The idea of fish, while fine adorning his body, was not exactly his idea of fine decorating and he had succeeded in putting his lover off the idea of redecoration for almost a month now.

However, he knew that going away would change that plan, and when he had gone to see his brother for a few days, Mike had taken the opportunity to take over one of the spare rooms that they had, up until now, only used to store various junk- boxes that seemed to follow them around from house to house, even though neither of them knew exactly what was in them.

Therefore, he hadn’t been surprised when the half Japanese man had pounced on him the second he walked through the door, only barely allowing him to drop his bags before leading him up the stairs to see his masterpiece. Or what Chester thought would be his masterpiece.

This was… different to say the least. Not fish, which was a good thing he supposed, but certainly nothing that he would have thought of on his own. The room had been cleared of all boxes, probably stored elsewhere in the large house for him to find later, and the only furniture in the space was a king sized wrought iron bed, high enough so that they would have to climb onto it.

Black velvet sheets had been spread over the surface; obviously his love had remembered the conversation that they had had a week ago about his love of he material. His mind switched into overdrive, imagining the slick surface of the sheets sliding over his skin, the roughness as he moved against the material…

Shaking his head, he focused his thoughts on the aspect of the room that had really captured his attention: the walls. Instead of the large coloured fish he thought he was going to find, or even an outrageous, but still flattering block colour, he was greeted with the image of himself. Over and over again.

The walls were covered in mirrors. Large sheets of looking glasses covered every available vertical surface, each one three feet wide and framed with ebony, breaking up the images, so instead of just one version of himself in the wall, there were many, all wearing the same shocked, slightly aroused expression.

A small cough alerted him to his lover’s presence, and he turned to see the dark haired man lazing against the doorframe.

“It’s…different.” He said, not taking his eyes off his lover, which was the only thing that didn’t overtly reflect him.

“You don’t like it.” The emcee stated flatly, pouting slightly at the blonde.

“Well, I don’t hate it.” The singer said, trying to spare his loves feelings, but trying to get across the point that it really wasn’t his cup of tea.

“I thought you might have to be persuaded.” Mikes voice was one of resignation, but also anticipation. The emcee pushed himself upright, away from the door frame, and grasped the bottom of his loose t-shirt firmly, peeling it slowly away from his body.

The garment was flung into the hallway, and the sight of the smooth expanse of caramel skin made Chester forget all about his loves attempt at decorating.

They met half way, Mikes lips catching Chester’s in a soft kiss, almost a caress as he kicked the door shut. Chester’s eyes fluttered closed, a moan drawn from him as his lovers lips stroked over his in the softest, briefest caress. It had been too long without him, even though it had only been a few days.

It soon wasn’t enough, and Chester strained to deepen the kiss, applying more pressure to the kiss and swiping his tongue across the emcees silky bottom lip. Mikes mouth opened gratefully, and they took a small step towards each other, bare chest touching cloth as their arms wound around each other, holding them together as the kiss continued.

Clothing soon became a problem, and the dark haired man broke the kiss, tugging at the black wife beater that his mate wore, wanting it off now. Chaz lifted his arms, and the ribbed material slid off his body, thrown god knows where in the room as Mike crushed him once more to his chest, plundering the blondes mouth with his tongue, stroking the soft skin of his back in time with the teasing licks to the inside of his mouth.

Chester’s hands were not idle, and slid around to grasp Mikes firm ass in his hands, hauling the bigger man closer to him in a show of strength that belied his appearance, but one that the other man had revelled in on more than one occasion.

With smooth strokes in time with Mikes tongue stroking his, Chester gently thrust into Mike, their hardness’s rubbing together through too much denim to make it comfortable. The emcee made a small mewl of dissatisfaction, and removed his hands from Chazs back, gliding them down the soft trail of hair that led under the grey waistband of his boxers, uncovered by black jeans that rode low on the slender hips.

The dexterous younger man made unfastening jeans into an art form as he teased the blonde through the thin cotton of his boxers. One by one, the button fly came undone from the gentle pressure of Mike’s hand, long fingers almost stroking each button out of its hole, while his knuckles pressed against the begging length beneath the black fabric.

His own jeans came off in a hurry; the button undone and zipper lowered by Chester quick and skilful hands and quickly kicked off his feet by himself. He continued to tease the older man, stroking only lightly with his knuckles on one hand, while lowering the baggy denim with the other.

The boxers came next, quickly disposed of and flung into unknown areas of the room. The kiss never once broke, the soft gasps of pleasure that Chester made, swallowed by Mikes talented mouth.

The bigger man nudged Chester back, and the slender man let himself be manoeuvred, jumping only slightly when his knees made contact with the side of the high bed. The large, gentle hands that had been teasing him so beautifully before, now shoved lightly at his shoulders, knocking him off balance, and he sprawled onto the soft covers, another moan pulled out of him at the feel of the cool, soft material under his back.

Mike pulled back, breaking the kiss that had been maintained even through Chester's fall, and looked down at his lover, marvelling at the contrast of Chester pale skin on the jet-black velvet. He nuzzled his face into the hard, pale stomach, ignoring the way the blondes hands gripped the short hair on the back of his head, trying to say without words what he wanted.

A disappointed sound left Chazs lips as the emcee crawled up the bed instead of down, hovering just over his, and kissing his lips lightly.

“Stay right there.” The dark man said, and slid off the bed, walking quickly out of the room to find what he needed. Chester lay in the middle of the bed, and moved his arm behind his head to make himself more comfortable. Movement above him caught his eyes, and he looked up, heart hammering, eyes searching for some previously unseen mini-intruder that could spoil his welcome home from Mike.

All he saw was himself.

Apparently the walls were not the only things that were covered in mirrors, and as he looked up, he thought that he could finally realise the appeal of the unorthodox coverings.

He stared up at himself, spread decadently over dark sheets, making his body look even paler. Long, slender limbs spread out over the velvet. His skin was flushed but still pale, marred only by the dark trail of hair that led from his navel to surround his cock; still aroused despite the small scare he gave himself earlier. He looked like…innocence waiting patiently to be defiled, although it had been along time since he could be called anything like ‘innocent’. Was this what Mike saw?

The shutting of the door brought him back to his senses, and he could almost feel his lover’s position in the room. Taking his hand off the glass behind the door, long legs carrying him swiftly to the bed.

The dip in the mattress confirmed his thoughts, and he looked up to see Mike place a tube at the end of the bed, within easy reach. One hand was then stretched out to him, the long, artists fingers held open in invitation, and Chester couldn’t help but to accept.

He pushed himself up, clasping the large hand in his own, and pulling their bodies together to meet in the middle of the huge bed.

Their lips locked once more, the kiss turned hungry as the desire in their blood grew. It lasted but a few seconds, the emcee quickly pulling back so he could start to feast on the soft skin of Chester neck. The pale expanse was quickly marked with small purple nips, as the younger mans strong, white teeth dug into the flesh, marking his territory once again. Their hips thrust together, grateful for any friction that they could get on their aching cocks.

With one swift movement, Mike was behind Chester, pulling the blonde back against his strong chest, spreading his long legs with his own, completely opening the singer up and holding him there.

The feeling of complete vulnerability, but at the same time complete safety was not a new one, but defiantly a welcome one, and he felt himself grow even harder. He rested his head on Mikes shoulder, and the soft overhead light filtered through his closed eyes.

“Look.” Mike mumbled against his neck, hardly pausing in his small licks and bites as he stroked his own hardness against the silky skin of Chester’s back. One hand snaked down the slender body to grasp his cock, pumping the length almost languidly, while the other hand reached behind him, presumably for the lube.

“Look, baby.” The younger man repeated, when no response to his previous command was forthcoming. Chester knew what he would see if he opened his eyes, and knew he would be hard pressed to keep his control if he did. Slowly, he cracked open one eyes, trying to tone down the pleasurably jolts that rocked his body, so he could watch himself being pleasured.

The sight was more than he had bargained for, and his whole body gave a jerk at scene. Mikes knees were pushed between his legs, leaving him open and vulnerable, his pale body stretched over the darker one of the man behind him in a way that would have been obscene if hadn’t have been so perfect.

One caramel coloured hand stroked his cock, now dripping with his passion and aching with need. His head was thrown back wantonly, mouth opening and closing reflexively, biting the soft skin around his silver lip ring on every closure.

Mikes chin rested on his shoulder, mouth reaching out every so often to lick or caress his neck, soft, pink tongue stroking the skin that he could see as well as feel. He could feel his climax approaching and squashed the urge to come, never wanting the feeling to end.

The hand not stroking his cock, parted the globes of his ass, and one slick finger slid inside his body. The control he prided himself on usually was slipping, and he hoped that Mike would hurry with the preparation, because he didn’t know how much longer he was going to last.

The fingers inside him were there oh so briefly, Mike obviously deciding that he was relaxed enough to continue without vast amounts of pain. He moaned loudly as Mikes slick flesh entered him in one long thrust, filling him so he could almost feel it in his throat, sliding against his prostate.

The pace was started fast, the stretching ache in his ass turning quickly into burning pleasure, adding to the sensations that the younger man was wreaking on his vulnerable body, and loving every minute of them. His head fell back on Mikes shoulder once more, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the image in the mirror in front of them. The two men reflected in the glass moved lewdly against each other, their movement desperate and decadent, the very definition of raw sexuality.

He felt the long denied pleasure well up in him again, not to be refused a second time, and the tightness in his balls made his whole body shake with unreleased pleasure. He watched Mikes face in the mirror, features screwed up a painful pleasure grimace, his eyes also fixed on the spectacle playing out in front of them.

Their eyes locked in the glass, and the world seemed to slow down, as if the two men on the bed were the masters of time itself. The building pressure became too much for Chester’s slender body, and he let his orgasm wash over him, somehow managing to keep his eyes open, while wave after wave of heat flooded his system, and his come covered the black sheets and his spread thighs.

He could feel Mikes rasping breaths against his back, and the warmth within his body to signal that his lover had, at some point while he had been floating in oblivion, found his own pleasure.

They two exhausted men collapsed onto their sides, Mike sliding out of his lovers body as the older man turned to face him, snuggling into the emcees broad chest. Their breathing quickly returned to normal; all the jumping around on stage apparently did something other than make them sweat.

“Glad you’re home, baby.” Mike whispered, nuzzling his face into the silky strands of Chester bleached hair.

“Me to.” The singer replied sleepily. “Never let me question your decorating tastes again.”

End!

A/N: Review and Chaz gets laid! Promise!