in pieces

16. powerless

(The Bottom's POV)

I took my sushi between my chopsticks. Chester was across from me and honestly, I forgot how cute he looked trying to remember how I taught him to use chopsticks. He was looking healthier now. He was finally recovering from the hell he's been through. Slowly, we have been able to rebuild his wardrobe and his god forsaken shoe collection. I know I had two huge walk in closets at home, but there's no way I'm giving up one just for how much clothing he has! Like I don't even use half of my closet and all his probably won't fit in the spare closet. Such a fucking diva.

"It's not the worst sushi. Definitely better than that shit we got in Nashville," he smiled. I shuttered. My salmon wasn't fresh at all that day, and we ended up sick for days with food poisoning. Chester had just had stomach surgery too. He couldn't eat sushi for many years until I convinced him at the end of the Minutes To Midnight tour to try something. He still doesn't eat raw fish and usually gets soup or a non-raw sushi option at any sushi place now.

"Is it good, Chaz?" I asked. He nodded, continuing to eat. Some days he likes to speak while eating and sometimes he would like to stay silent. I think it directly correlates to how much he enjoys the food. If it's something he's not a huge fan of he's more talkative. But there is exceptions to this rule. Tacos and Pizza. He can't fucking shut up if we get Mexican food or Pizza. Even though he loves them, he just can't stop talking. I guess he's either extremely silent or talkative when he enjoys something and when it's not his favorite he makes small talk. Every little detail of this man make me fall in love more

"I'm stuffed," he pushed his plate away dramatically. I smiled at his cuteness.

"So you don't want me for dessert?" I laughed.

He rolled his eyes and chuckled, "Again, I'm stuffed Mike."

(Chester's POV)

We caught our flight and were soon in Florida. I was braiding Mike's hair, his face being very peaceful. I curled my legs around him to get a little closer, kissing his neck as I tied the braids off. He was honestly adorable. I'd protect him with my life. I wrapped my arms around him, landing more sloppy, sleepy kisses on his neck.

"Chaz you're always so sleepy, even though you drink tons of coffee," Mike laughed.

I giggled and leaned into him, "being sleepy just means more cuddles from my Mikey."

He smiled and turned around to face me. Our limbs tangled together into nothing but a knot. Even though we were this entangled... I always found a way to escape and steal the sheets. He constantly complained about it, but I think he's just jealous I'm better in bed than him... literally.

I'd been hiding something from him, however. It wasn't just sleepiness. It was full restlessness. I hadn't been feeling well for the last week now. I didn't want him to worry or know because it would hinder the tour and album release. I began to wonder if I could get something... illegal. He hated me being on illicit drugs but they helped me sleep so well. I just can't disappoint him. He'll hate me. I can't have him hating me.

"Chester? Why aren't you asleep?" Mike raised up a bit.

"You know how I get. I have the occasional nights I just can't sleep. And I get addicted to shit so easily. I can't take anything to help me sleep," I grumbled. Mike frowned and felt my forehead.

"Chester, Jesus fuck man let me grab the thermometer," Mike got out of bed. I grumbled more. I didn't want him worrying. Especially over something so trivial. He put the thermometer under my tongue and I continuously gave him the stink eye. It was humiliating sitting here like a child while he waited for the thermometer to beep.

When I beeped, a grumble escaped me again. "Dickhead."

He looked down at the thermometer and his eyes widened, "This 'dickhead' is taking you to the hospital."

I began to protest. I didn't want to go to the hospital. I tried to hide under the blankets like that was gonna do any good. I didn't want to go to the hospital over a silly fever.

"Chester you have a fever of 104.2 get your scrawny ass out from under those sheets."

I stopped. "104 degrees?" I got out from under the blanket. "You know I spike a high fever over little things Mike... it isn't anything serious."

"Chester listen to me. What have you been hiding. How long have you been sick?" He questioned. "Brad just came down with strep throat." He forcefully opened my mouth and shined a flashlight down the back of my throat. "Chester how long have you had strep?"

"I didn't want to tell you... I thought it would make you mad or hinder the album and tour and I didn't want that."

Mike began noticing something. Small red dots on my chest. Like a rash. "Hospital, now." He spoke and scooped me into his arms. He called the guys as he drove me to the hospital in a rush, worried at my absolutely horrible condition.