The water felt amazing as Mike lingered in Chester's shower, the scent of peaches billowing in the steam around him. He'd already taken care of business, washing his hair and face, and soaping up every inch of his body, probing at his skin carefully with a few fingertips, testing for tender places. It was surprising that he didn't feel last night more than he did, just some generalized soreness from muscles he didn't know he owned, but everything was going to be okay. He'd finally given away that piece of him he'd held onto so tightly, and he'd given it to someone he was deeply in love with.

He let the hot water beat down on his shoulders as he thought about yesterday, and all that he and Chester talked about at the kitchen table. Chester's parents, the money, the contracts, and his job. Mike knew if they were going to stand a chance at lasting, Chester's job situation was going to have to change. He didn't know the scope of the debts Chester was trying to repay, or anything about this YRS place, and the longer he stood in the water disconnected from his boyfriend's loving touch, the more questions he thought he should have asked last night. Too late now for should have, I'll just have to figure this out as I go. But we're going to be fine. He loves me, really loves me, and that's the most important thing.Years of being subjected to his mother's sappy romance movies had taught him that love was all that mattered.

Mike pushed unwelcome thoughts of his own parents out of his mind as he turned the water off and grabbed his towel. Scrubbing it over his hair a few times, he dried off his face and his chest, then his arms and back, then down his legs, his ass was last. Same routine, every time. He slid into his underwear and opened the door to the bathroom to let some of the steam out. He really hated putting his clothes on when his skin was still damp.

The cooler air from the living area rushed into the bathroom, and with it came the smell of coffee brewing and ham being cooked on the stove. Mike's stomach rumbled and he realized how hungry he really was, forgetting his aversion to putting his clothes on so soon after showering as he quickly stepped into his jeans and pulled his t-shirt on. He grabbed his flannel off the counter and stepped out of the bathroom, heading straight for the kitchen.

"I smell coffee," he said, slipping the flannel shirt over his arms as he glanced around for his mug.

Chester smiled, his eyes never leaving his task. "Yup, coffee's ready and I've got ham and cheese for your omelet. Should be ready in just a few minutes." He tapped his pink socks to the beat in his head as he flipped the ham steak over. It was more than a enough to chunk up and sprinkle into Mike's eggs, and what was left over, Chester was already planning on smearing it in ketchup for his own breakfast.

Mike walked around the bar and reached for a mug, stopping to kiss the back of Chester's neck before he poured out some coffee. "Want me to pour yours, too?" he asked, looking over to check the progress of breakfast. He was starving.

"Sure, if you would," Chester said, as he pulled the meat off the heat. He already had his omelette mix ready, sitting in a bowl by the stove. He'd give the ham a minute or two to cool just a little before he sliced it up, and then Mike's eggs would be ready in no time. He scooted away from the stove to grab two plates from the cupboards and some silverware as he watched Mike out of the corner of his eye, getting their coffees ready. This is nice. Making breakfast. Sharing duties. This is our life now, right? Or at least it is when he sleeps over. I wonder if he makes breakfast like this in the mornings with Anna? Surely I'm better at this than her, he thought with a smirk, the brief image of Mike's bookworm roommate popping into his mind.

Mike opened the refrigerator and took out the cream, knowing exactly how much to pour into Chester's cup. He'd seen him do this ritual enough to know just what color the coffee turned when he liked it best. Replacing the cream, he reached for the sugar and spooned it in, stirring it before he scooted the mug over within Chester's reach. "There you go, babe," he said, and then pressed his lips together. Babe? Where the fuck did that come from? Oh my God, he's going to make fun of me for sure. Mike felt his cheeks turn pink and he hid behind his coffee mug, blowing across the top of the liquid before taking a quick sip.

Chester looked over, sharply. The pet name catching his ears like fire. Did he just call me 'babe'? He did. I think he did. A flip of a smile crossed his lips. "Thanks," he offered before he looked away, a full grin coating his face.

Mike waited a second longer, to see if Chester was going to say anything, before he set his coffee mug down and slid into place behind him, placing both hands gently on his boyfriend's hips. "I love that you always cook for me... babe," he said again, teasingly this time before he rested his chin on Chester's shoulder and watched him cook. "You make me not want to leave from here, ever."

Chester was already chuckling. He loved the feel of Mike pressed up against him. The closeness and intimacy, even in the kitchen, was welcomed. "Then my evil plan has worked," he said, bumping his ass backwards a little. "You didn't know it, but this has all been a show. I lure you in with food and then you'll never want to leave me."

A seriousness fell over Mike as Chester spoke, and he tightened his grip as he mumbled, "you had me in that dressing room on our first date, Ches. The minute you kissed me, I knew you were the one. As crazy as that probably sounds, I didn't want to leave you, even then." He sighed and kissed the side of Chester's neck before he stepped back, taking a deep breath as he picked up his coffee and went to sit at the table.

He ran his fingers over the handle of the mug a few times, staring down at it, before he said, "you don't have to do anything for me to stay, Ches. I'm here, and I'm all in. Even after that conversation last night." Mike felt the atmosphere of the morning changing a little bit, but he knew he had some things on his mind he needed to talk about before he went to work, or they would nag at him all day. He looked over at Chester, who still had his back to him as he worked at the stove. Mike took another sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving the back of Chester's head. "I want you to know, I appreciate you being honest with me last night. I know that was hard for you... but it's so important that we not keep secrets from each other. You know?"

Chester had his head down. He could hear every word Mike was saying as he chopped up the ham slab and spilled it into the pan with Mike's eggs. He knew. He knew I was going to be the one on our first date, and all I wanted to do was fuck him. What's wrong with me? At least it didn't work out that way. We wouldn't be here if I would have gotten what I wanted that night.

He reached over and took his cup of coffee, sipping it as he collected himself. That first date was a long time ago, and they'd come a long way since then, which is what Chester reminded himself of as he turned Mike's omelette and a minute later he shoveled it onto a plate. He took it and his leftover ham and ketchup to the table to sit down, along with his coffee.

"I agree," he said, clearing his throat. "No secrets is good...so anything, Mike, anything you want to know, you just have to ask." He looked up, meeting his boyfriend's beautiful eyes, and he smiled.

"This smells awesome," Mike complimented as he picked up his fork. They each took a few bites in silence before Mike put his fork back down and gazed over at Chester. I love how he drowns every bite of meat he eats in ketchup. I don't think he can even taste the food underneath all that ketchup, but that's okay. He looks like a little kid over there, happily covering everything in the stuff. I hate interrupting his condiment bliss. He cleared his throat and looked down at his plate. Half his food was already gone.

"I do have a question... about work," he said cautiously, looking up to watch Chester's face for his reaction. All he saw was a slight pause in Chester's chewing as he looked up, meeting Mike's eyes. "I, um... well, I was thinking, do you... well, do you make movies with a... lot of different guys? Or is it like, I don't know... a series or something where you're always with the same person?" Nothing like starting off with the hardest question you can think of, Mike, Jesus. At least you didn't ask him what his number is.

It wasn't a shocking question, but Chester knew he needed to be careful how he worded his answer. He wanted to be open and honest, but he also knew Mike wasn't the most up to date person when it came to things like porn and multiple partners. He swallowed down his bite of ham and took a sip of coffee before he said, "Well, it depends. I've been doing this for two years, so there's been a few guys. Mostly, we only work with each other," he said, before he rolled his eyes at himself. "I mean, YRS has exclusive models...actors...whatever you want to call us. Now and again Mark will let someone from another company come in as like a guest role or whatever, but usually we stay within just our own group, which is nice. And, there are series, sometimes. Porn is all about numbers. More movies means more money, for them and for us. Here lately I've been mostly working with Ryan. Our movies get good ratings, and Mark's been wanting to get the most out of that as he can."

"Ryan? The guy you shared a room with in Hawaii?" Mike tried to keep his voice under control but he felt it edging toward panic a little bit. "Isn't that... awkward?" He looked down at his plate, picking up his fork and moving a bit of egg around just to have something to do.

Chester shook his head. "No," he answered honestly. "Ryan's my friend. I'd rather share a room with him than most of the other guys."

It was a hard statement for Mike to hear, the idea of being 'friends' with someone who last night Chester had made seem like meant absolutely nothing. There were relationships there. Maybe not loving ones, but friendships, and Mike wasn't sure how he felt about that. He poked at his eggs some more before he took another bite, reminding himself that Chester wasn't up making breakfast for Ryan - he was with him. What they had meant something, and Mike had to figure out how to protect it.

"And... one other question," Mike said, finished with hearing about people at YRS for the time being. "You weren't at all surprised, the first time we were... well, the first time I went down on you," Mike felt his face flush a bit, "that I suggested a condom. I assume you use those at... work?"

Chester's eyes darted to the side. He had actually kinda hoped that question wouldn't come up. But here they were, and he knew he owed it to Mike to be honest. That was the deal, what they'd agreed to. He took a deep breath before he looked back at his boyfriend. "I was glad you suggested it," he stated honestly. "If you wouldn't have, I would of." He stopped for a minute, trying to get his tongue to do what he wanted, his mind racing to find the right way to break this to the person he cared so much about. "We use them for anal sex, like I said last night. I've never done that with anyone without a condom. It's actually YRS policy - no barebacking. But, that's all we use them for. Everything else is condom free. For the cameras, of course, which means that everything has to be seen. There's no swallowing, at least nothing significant," he mumbled. "People like to see it. They like to see the end result, if that's on someone's face or on their back...wherever," he said, closing his mouth. He'd said enough about that, he was pretty sure by the way Mike wasn't looking at him anymore.

"Oh." Mike put his fork down again and rested his elbow on the table, his forehead meeting his hand as he dropped his head. Why on earth did I ask that question? I didn't need to know that, not even a little bit. He sat there for a minute, his chest feeling a bit tight. It was all really confusing in his head as he pondered his intimate relationship with Chester, thought over how cautious he had been and how accepting his boyfriend had been throughout everything. I have to get past it, I have to. He's respected me at every turn. He's been careful and he's made sure everything moved at my pace. I'm the one that insisted on the condoms initially, and he went with it. That means something, I can't let this freak me out.

Mike raised his head and looked at Chester, who had probably been staring at the top of his head the entire time he'd been thinking. "I don't want to talk about any more right now," he started, then rushed to continue when he saw Chester's worried expression, "I'm not mad, Ches... it's just a lot to process. It's hard. I want you to be all mine. I'm not good at sharing." He reached across the table for Chester's hand.

There was no thought behind it. Chester took his boyfriend's hand the moment it was offered. He squeezed it. "I am all yours," he said with a soft smile. "Work is just work. Believe me, Mike, it's the most unsexy thing in the world. If you ever meet Mark you'll understand. Try doing anything with him standing ten feet away yelling orders," he offered with a soft laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Maybe I do need to meet this guy," Mike said immediately. "Maybe I need to march in there and tell him you quit. And don't tell me you can't quit. I'm sure there's a loophole, somewhere."

Chester let out a sigh as he pulled his hand away. "Mike, you know I can't quit. Not yet. And you don't want to go to YRS," he dismissed quickly as he stood up. He picked up his empty plate and coffee cup and headed back to the kitchen. "So later, right? You're coming back?"

Mike frowned at the abrupt change in Chester's attitude. He'd clearly struck a nerve. He looked down at his plate, feeling overwhelmed suddenly by everything that had happened in the past two days. "If you want me, here, Ches, I'll be here," he said in a small voice. Mike picked up his fork and stabbed his eggs as he convinced himself, don't cry, that's so ridiculous. He's just upset because everything about work sucks, he's not mad at you. Eat your eggs, Mike.

****

"Move your thumb over, Bri, you're supposed to be on middle C," Mike said patiently, watching the eight year-old's hand position over the piano. The little girl slid her right hand over one key and looked at Mike for approval. "That's it, now, go ahead and play the top line for me."

Mike could close his eyes and still know if his student was using the correct fingerings, he'd heard line seventy-four from the piano book so many times. He was trying to pay attention but his mind kept coming back to Chester, to the way they had left things that morning. While Bri fumbled over the simple line, Mike thought about how he'd taken his plate to the sink where Chester was rinsing off the pan he'd used to make breakfast, and how he'd simply turned his cheek for Mike to kiss him goodbye. All of the comfortable feelings from the morning, the happiness he'd felt waking up, the teasing way he'd called Chester 'babe', it had all felt a million miles away when Mike had turned and left for work. The air had been tense between them, and Mike was sorry he'd even started asking questions that morning.

"Okay, try that again, and this time, slow it down a little and keep a consistent tempo." Mike nodded his approval at Bri, and she played the line again.

How does he expect me to act? I haven't even known about his job for a whole day yet, and he thinks I should just be cool with it all? I'm trying, I thought I was pretty calm this morning. I have no idea why he got so upset when I mentioned going to YRS. I was only joking. Mostly.

Mike placed his left hand on the piano as Bri finished the line again. "That was so much better! Now, I'm going to play the bass line with you, so you can hear how it's supposed to sound. Then I want you to play both lines, okay?" He glanced down at Bri, who nodded happily.

His hand was on autopilot as they played the four measure line together. He asked if I was coming back, but when I said I would, he didn't answer. I wonder if he really wants me to come back or not? Mike could feel the familiar self-doubt of past relationships starting to creep in, just as he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Damn. I always turn that off while I'm teaching. He finished the line with Bri before he told her to do it again, herself, and reached for his phone.

10:45 am I'm in the cereal aisle. I'm looking for Lucky Charms, but did you know there's such a thing as chocolate Lucky Charms???? Isn't chocolate better than the plain ones? Which one do you want? There's like no cereal left at my house.

Mike smiled briefly as he looked at Chester's message. It was true. He'd eaten every bit of cereal while his boyfriend was in Hawaii. Cereal didn't have to be cooked.

10:46 am Regular. Chocolate ones are gross.

He set his phone on top of the piano and praised Bri for hacking her way through the line. "I think that one needs a little more practice this week, I'm writing it in your journal," he said, thinking more about Lucky Charms than piano. "Before we finish today, why don't we play a little duet?" Mike reached to turn the page as his phone went off again.

10:49 am Fine. No chocolate Lucky Charms. I'm trusting you on this. What about chocolate milk? Or there's banana milk or almond milk. No, never mind that. That sounds gross. How do you even get milk out of an almond?

Mike rolled his eyes. He was trying to work.

10:51 am Just regular milk, Ches.

10:52 am Okay, be boring. Are you busy? You probably are. Okay, I won't text again unless it's life or death decisions here at the grocery store.

Sure, Mike thought, a bit of a smile on his lips. Maybe I misjudged this morning. He doesn't seem mad now. He played a duet with Bri, and listened to her chatter about the gymnastics lesson she was going to next. "That's right, last week you were telling me you were working on the balance beam. How's that going?" Mike asked, writing a few practice notes in her journal.

"I can do a cartwheel on it now!" she said, clapping her hands together. "I love gymnastics!"

"But not as much as you love piano, right?" Mike asked, looking at her as she stood up. He heard his phone vibrate again as the little girl threw her arms around his neck in a hug. He's got to stop texting me while I'm teaching. People are going to start asking questions, and I don't want to get in trouble... or worse, have anyone find out that it's Chester texting me... what if someone knows he's a porn star!

It didn't occur to Mike that anyone who would know Chester was a porn star probably wouldn't say anything about it, at least not in the moment. It would be the kind of thing someone would reveal anonymously. He hugged Bri back briefly and tried not to worry about his phone going off constantly in her lesson. It didn't seem to phase his student, and her mother had been immersed in a book and hardly paying attention.

"I love piano, too, Mike!" she said, picking up her practice journal and her book from the stand.

"Same time next week," he said, glancing at her mother as she rose from her spot in the corner of the practice room. He always thought it kind of silly that the studio policy was a parent had to be present during lessons for opposite sex students under twelve. If only they all knew I was gay.

He held the door open for them to leave and welcomed his next student in. Eleven o'clock. Only five more hours to go. As Bryce settled in and got out his practice journal, Mike picked up his phone to see another message from Chester.

10:59 am What about dinner tonight? I'm thinking we can make a huge ass thing of spaghetti. With meatballs and garlic bread and salad and cheese all over fuckin' everythng. Sounds good, doesn't it??? Of course if you're not into that we can have something else. But seriously, consider the spaghetti. We can eat it upstairs in bed. Naked. I'll feed you saucy noodles :)

Mike covered his screen with his free hand as he felt his face burn red. He can't be texting me this stuff while I'm teaching. Someone might see it by accident!

11:02 am I'm teaching! It doesn't matter, you know I'll eat anything.

He ignored the rest of the text and set his phone on the piano, face down. "Okay, Bryce, let's start with your scales. Start with C, please, and move up chromatically." Bryce was an above average student, but he was no Drew. Mike let his thoughts drift away from naked noodles as he wondered how Drew was doing. It had been almost two weeks since the incident, and Mike had only talked to his mother once. He was due for a lesson tomorrow, and so far, they hadn't canceled.

Bryce was only halfway through the scales when the phone vibrated again. He knew he should just turn it off, but he didn't want Chester to get mad. With a sideways glance at his student, Mike picked up the phone again.

11:06 am I'm sorry, Mike. You're right, you're working.

A little flicker of disappointment crossed Mike's mind when it appeared that Chester was giving up so easily. Oh well. I need to focus on this anyway.The scales were completed and Mike was ready to move on to the piece he'd assigned last week when his phone vibrated again. Mike didn't even hesitate to pick it up.

11:20 am Leaving the store now. Just wanted to let you know I bought everything without your input. So there. :) If you don't like it, I'll go back tomorrow. *smooches*

Grinning like an idiot, Mike read over the text twice while Bryce started in on the solo piece.

11:22 am I'm sure it's fine. Now, let me teach. ILY

He opened his settings and toggled the vibrate on silent switch to off, placing the phone face down and turning his attention fully on Bryce. We're going to have to talk about not texting while I'm working when I get home.

The hours passed more quickly than Mike had anticipated, once he stopped being distracted by thoughts of Chester, and text messages. By the time four o'clock rolled around, he was anxious to get out of the studio and back to his boyfriend. He wanted to make up for the way they'd left things that morning.

Mike picked up his phone and saw two messages, one from Anna, and one from Chester. He clicked on Anna's first, thinking it would be brief.

2:34 pm Hey, Mike, I'm sure you're teaching. I tried calling, but it went to your voicemail. Just wanted to make sure you're okay. I was surprised you weren't here last night. Just concerned, I know you weren't feeling well.

He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder, his keys in one hand and his phone in the other. He clicked on Chester's text instead of answering her immediately.

11:28 am I love you, too. See you tonight for spaghetti and naked eating in bed. You have no choice.

Mike smiled at his phone and clicked on Anna's message again. He should have let her know he was okay last night, but it hadn't even crossed his mind. He also knew if he was going back to Chester's he needed clothes for tomorrow, and he wouldn't be at the apartment long.

4:06 pm Anna, I'm swinging by the apartment in about thirty. Won't be there long, I'll explain then. I'm fine, though, don't worry.

He fired off the message, then pulled up his favorites list and called Chester as he walked out to his car.

"Sexy Boy," Chester swooned as he answered the phone. He leaned back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, a smile on his face. "You better be calling to say you missed me and not canceling out on spaghetti in bed. I'd be crushed."

Mike opened his passenger door and tossed his backpack inside. "Hey, I wouldn't do that," he said, crossing back behind his car again to slide in the driver's seat. "I was just thinking, well, I didn't want to assume that you wanted me to stay over, but if you do, I need to go by my apartment first and pick up a few things. I don't think I can wear the same shirt to work again tomorrow." He started the car and waited to see if he was invited to spend the night again before he backed out of his parking space.

Chester sat forward, the grin on his face gone. He reached for the remote to turn the television down. "Of course," he said, his eyes drifting across the loft, all humor gone from his tone. "I guess I was just figuring you were figuring on staying. I mean, you don't have to, of course. But once we get to spaghetti in bed, you leaving afterwards wouldn't be any fun."

The seriousness in Chester's answer made Mike giggle. "Okay, babe," he said, backing out of his parking spot, "give me a bit. You know how much traffic sucks on the way to my place. I'll be as fast as I can." He looked both ways before turning out onto the main road. "I'll even wait to shower 'til I get to you, just to save time."

"Probably a good idea," Chester answered, a bit of relief floating over him as he stood up. "Maybe we can share a shower later. Spaghetti in bed can get messy."

Mike felt the shiver of excitement make its way down his spine as he thought about his boyfriend, naked and wet in the shower. "Sounds like a plan, Ches. I'll text you when I leave my place." He smiled before he said, "I love you."

"Love you, too. Hurry up. Or, don't hurry because you need to drive safe and all that, but hurry," Chester said, before he said goodbye and the call ended.

****

Anna was trying to sort her books in the living room, but it wasn't going so well. She knew she had too many, but really, was there a limit to great works of literature? No. Definitely not. We'll just have to reorganize in here. She let out a sigh as she picked up one stack of five books and moved them about three feet before she sat them down. Or maybe we're just out of room. She wiped her forehead, feeling the heat of the day just as she heard the door opening, and a second later Mike walked in, his backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Mike," she said, all thoughts of books forgotten as she bolted across the small space. "Are you really okay? I was worried when you were gone last night. You look pale, are you sure you're feeling okay? You probably shouldn't have gone to work so soon after being sick." She reached to feel his forehead, before she added, "I almost started calling hospitals last night. I would have called Chester, but I don't have his number."

"Whoa, wow, slow down," Mike said, holding his hands up to ward off Anna's prying touches and questions. "I'm sorry, I should have left a note, I wasn't thinking." And I forgot that I was supposed to be sick. But oh well. "I felt better, and I went to Chester's," he said, his gaze shifting away from Anna's concerned look and around the room. "I'm sorry I worried you."

Anna took a deep breath and took a step back. She knew it wasn't her place to be so motherly with Mike, but she couldn't help it sometimes. "Well, it's okay," she said, waving the issue away. "I'm just glad you're feeling better. You should really sit down though, you look tired." She took another step away, and after almost tripping over a pile of books, she made it to her favorite chair, motioning for Mike to sit on their small excuse for a couch.

Mike shook his head. "I'm not staying, Anna, I just came by for some clean clothes. I'm going back to Chester's for the night." He smiled, thoughts of naked noodles crossing his mind. "I might even take two changes of clothes. It's almost the weekend. I may not be back until Saturday. You know... if things go well."

Anna smiled. "Well? Mike, if you keep spending the night over there, you two are bound to take that step. I assume," she said, her hand going to her purple blouse. She could see that Mike wasn't wanting to stand around and talk, the way his eyes kept flashing toward the hallway, where the bedrooms were. But she really wanted him to stay and talk to her for at least a few more minutes. She wanted to hear all about his night with Chester and what plans they had for the next few days. "It's too bad he has to work every single weekend. Seems odd hours to keep, doesn't it?" she asked as an afterthought.

The smile faded just a bit, just for a moment, when Anna mentioned work, but Mike forced himself to stay calm. She doesn't know. Don't give her any reason to be suspicious. "It's just... the company he works for. I can't complain," Mike said hastily, his words tumbling over each other in his attempt to stay calm, "he makes good money, Anna, and he's home all week, I mean, it's fine, it won't always have to be like that. He'll move up in the company, or something, and he'll get better hours," he said, taking a few steps toward his bedroom. "We'll talk this weekend, okay? I promised I wouldn't be long, he's got dinner waiting for me." With that, Mike opened the door to his room and slunk inside, quickly closing the door and tossing his bag on the bed.

I've got to be quick, before she asks more questions. He crossed the room with purpose, grabbing another bag and stuffing two pairs of jeans, socks, underwear, two undershirts, a flannel, and a hoodie inside. Other than a few things out of the bathroom, that was all he needed besides his work stuff. He paused, looking in the mirror at his hair - it was time for a touch up. Maybe he could appease Anna by suggesting they do that this weekend.

He opened the door and came face to face with his roommate.

"Okay, Mike," she said, her brows a little narrowed as she measured every move of his eyes and twitch in his lips. "What's going on? I'm not trying to be nosy," she insisted, "but you're acting a little off."

"Nothing, I'm fine. I told you, he's waiting on me for dinner, and you know how bad traffic is. I just don't want to keep him waiting. Look, this weekend, you and me, we'll do pancakes and you can dye my hair again." He flashed her a winning smile as he scooted around her and slipped into the bathroom for his stuff. "I know how much you love doing that, it will be fun." Mike scooped his toiletries into a small bag and turned around, sliding past Anna again.

She watched him as she admitted defeat. Like it or not, it was clear she was no match for Chester Bennington. "Okay," she relented, even though she didn't like it. "We can do that. I'll pick up your color tomorrow so I'll have it ready. But promise me that you'll give me all the details this weekend. Alright?"

Mike zipped up his bag and lifted it, slinging his backpack across the other shoulder. "You're the best, Anna," he said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. "I promise, we're on for this weekend. All the details, anything you want to know." He patted his pockets, checking for his keys and phone. "Besides, he may get tired of me before then and I'll be back sooner, you never know." Stepping out of the bedroom, Mike pulled the door shut behind him and waited until Anna turned, following her down the hallway.

"Tired of you? Mike," she said as they got to the living room and she turned to face him one last time before he left for the night, "if there's one thing I'm pretty sure of, it's that he's not going to get tired of you."

With his hand on the doorknob, Mike paused as they looked at each other. "I really, really hope not," he said before he opened the door, and then he was gone.

****

Chester stirred his spaghetti sauce, the smell of tomato, onion, and garlic filling his nostrils as he stood with his cell phone to his ear. "I don't know what to tell you," he said, his eyes lost in the red abyss of what he knew was going to taste amazing as it bubbled, "but I wouldn't let him do that. That could really get awkward."

The timer on the oven dinged, and Chester grabbed his lobster mit to pull the garlic bread from the oven, just as the doorbell rang. He turned, his stomach fluttering a little. Mike's here. Need to end this conversation right now. "Look I -" He tried to say as he headed for the door, but he couldn't get a word in edgewise. He rolled his eyes as he mumbled an "Mhm," instead before he unlocked the door and opened it to see his boyfriend standing there with a smile on his face and an overnight bag on his shoulder. "Hey," Chester mouthed softly as he leaned in and quickly pecked Mike on the lips before he turned around and headed for the kitchen. "Mhm," he mumbled into the phone again.

Mike followed Chester inside, turning to close the front door and lock it behind him. Wonder who he's talking to. I guess I'll take my stuff upstairs.He made his way into the kitchen, dropping his backpack in one of the chairs they never sat in and trying to get Chester's attention.

Chester was turning burners off on the stove. "I know, but you can't do that," he said, his attention hopping from spaghetti to the front door, which is when he spun around to see where Mike had gone. He smiled the instant he saw him standing by the kitchen table. "Well, yeah, I mean it would be a seriously asshole move if he did that, but you and I both know Jason can be like that."

Mike's ears perked up when he heard the name Jason. Work. He's talking to someone from work. He didn't want to hear anymore. The last time they'd talked work, that morning, it had ended with tension between them. Mike just wanted naked noodle time. Catching Chester's eye, he lifted his bag and pointed to the loft. "I'm going to take this upstairs," he whispered.

Chester nodded, his eyes going soft for a moment as he watched his boyfriend head for the stairs. "Look, Ryan, I really gotta go," he said quickly, "I've, ah, I've got someone here. If you know what I mean."

Someone? So now I'm just someone? Mike frowned as he heard the hesitation in Chester's voice. I don't like that. God, I don't want to talk about his work, but here I am, about to ask him why I'm just someone and not 'my boyfriend,' or at the very least, 'Mike.' Nah, I can't do that. He'll think I'm just grilling him. I can't just outright ask. Ugh. This is going to bother me all night long. The rest of the conversation was out of earshot as Mike ascended the stairs and went to set his bag down on his side of the bed.

My side of the bed. I like that, he thought, his thoughts softening for a moment. Everything looked clean and fresh upstairs, the bed neatly made, and Mike realized Chester had washed again. At least we're both clean people. It's not like living with Anna.

By the time he made his way back downstairs, Chester had ended his call, and was draining spaghetti over the sink. Mike went over to the bar and rested his elbows on it, watching as Chester finished dinner. "Everything okay?"

Chester glanced over his shoulder. "Oh, yeah, don't worry about it," he said as he dumped the drained noodles back into the hot pot so he could add the sauce and meatballs. "That was just Ryan," he added. "He's going through some stuff and just needed to talk."

"Mmm," Mike said, frowning again already. Before he could help himself, he said, "do you guys talk often outside of work?"

Chester set the empty sauce pot in the sink, letting out a long breath before he looked over at Mike. "I don't know," he answered with a shrug. "What's a lot?" He looked down for a second before he met Mike's eyes. "He's just needy sometimes. He's our age," he said, motioning between them. "And we have some things in common. It's easier to talk about work stuff with work people, you know? That's all it was."

Hearing that Ryan was their age felt like the wrong thing to say, and Mike felt the jealousy flare up inside him, swift and hot under his skin. "And I'm just someone?" he said quietly, holding Chester's gaze. "I don't work there, so I don't matter when you're talking to your 'work friends'?" It was hard to keep his voice level but he was trying, hard.

Chester's face skewed slightly. "'Someone'? What are you talking about?"

"When you were talking to Ryan, just now. You told him you had to go because you had 'someone' here. Why not, 'my boyfriend,' or 'Mike' even? Or is that more of your work and personal life separation?" It dawned on Mike in the middle of his question that the answer might really be that simple, and he felt like an ass.

Chester felt his mouth and throat instantly go dry. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "Mike, that's all it is." He walked around to stand close to his boyfriend. "Don't be mad and don't read any more into that than there is. I have to do it this way. I've wanted to tell Ryan about you, I have. I've come really close a lot of times, but, then that just makes the lines blurry. When I'm there, I'm there and when I'm here with you, I really don't want work to be a part of that. Yeah, Ryan and I talk some outside of work, but as friends. And, I guess, I guess I was waiting to tell him after I knew we were going to be okay." He lifted his hand and slid his fingers down Mike's arm. "I'm sorry. Of course you're not just 'someone' but I didn't mean anything bad by it."

Just the touch of Chester's hand calmed the anxiety Mike had been feeling moments earlier. He blew out a long breath before he leaned forward and caught Chester's lips in a slow, deep kiss, the kiss he'd wanted when he walked in but instead had found his boyfriend on the phone. "I'm sorry," he said when they broke apart, his breathing already labored just from the one kiss. "I just... it's so hard, I don't want to think about it, not at all, and it seems like ever since you told me, it's all I can think about. It's in my head all the time. And I just wish it could go away. That you could leave so I wouldn't have to think about it."

Chester held back repeating that he couldn't quit. It didn't matter how many times Mike asked, he was stuck for the next two years, and if they were going to work as a couple, Mike was going to have to accept that. "Why don't we not talk about work anymore tonight," he suggested instead. "We've got better things planned. Come on, Sexy Boy," he said jovially as he shook Mike's arm, "we've got spaghetti in bed, and then a shower to look forward to." He let his hands stay clasped around Mike's arm as he leaned forward, sucking on Mike's ear for a moment before he let him go and turned back toward the kitchen. "This is ready, and I know I'm starving," he said, hoping this would be the end of work talk.

For just a second, Mike thought about asking one more time for Chester to quit, but he knew that conversation was going nowhere tonight. He needed a plan before he asked again. So he nodded as he said instead, "yeah, I'm starving too. That omelette was a long time ago." He made his way around the bar and inhaled deeply, and felt his stomach respond immediately. "Let's eat so we can go get that shower," he said, picking up a plate and clearing his mind of any last lingering work related thoughts.