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Ches woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of rain and someone knocking at the front door of his trailer.
Damn, it must be another junkie asking for money, Ches thought to himself. When it rained, homeless people and junkies often showed up seeking shelter or cash.
So when Ches opened the door cautiously and saw Glam—soaking wet in the rain, sobbing—it’s safe to say he was fairly shocked and confused.
Though the feeling only lasted a second before it was immediately replaced with dread and worry. He stepped aside quickly, ushering Glam in without a word and cursing under his breath.
Thoughts raced through his head. God, what happened? I swear if his bastard of a father threw him out, I’ll—
He was quickly snapped out of his violent daydream when Glam suddenly fell forward, barely able to stand, burying his head in Ches’s shoulder while clutching the back of his jacket for support.
Ches quickly wrapped his arms around him, pausing for just a moment in awe of how right it felt to hold Glam—how well Glam’s tall frame fit against his.
But this was no time for that.
Carefully, Ches led him to his room, trying to calm him down. Once they were both sitting on Ches’s bed, he shifted to give Glam better access to hug him, and they stayed like that for a couple of minutes.
When Glam finally calmed down, Ches turned to face him—and saw the pain and anguish in his piercing blue eyes.
He had never seen Glam this rough. Sure, he’d seen him tired and in pain after being beaten harshly by his father, but nothing like this.
And yet… somehow Glam seemed relieved. Glad, even. Ches couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Then again, Glam had always had complex emotions. When he wanted to, he could hide everything so well you’d never know he was unhappy.
But Ches could always tell.
He felt a painful tug in his chest as Glam looked up to meet his eyes and muttered,
“Th-thank you, Chive… I… I’m sorry. I’m inconveniencing you, and you’ve already done so much, and I know I’m a burden, and—”
Glam quickly dissolved into a half-sobbed, rambling apology. Ches immediately shushed him, placing a comforting hand on Glam’s arm.
Glam went quiet instantly, looking at him with an expression that made Ches flush.
They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment before Ches asked,
“So… what happened? If you’re okay with telling me, that is.”
Glam sighed and apologized again before explaining—everything. The mock city, the diary, the rebel…
By the end, his voice was shaking, and he no longer seemed relieved to be gone. He almost looked like he regretted leaving… or maybe regretted opening up.
Ches shook the thought away.
He stood, helped Glam up, and grabbed him some clothes that weren’t soaked. Glam could keep the jean jacket and borrow a black shirt—it might be a bit small, but it would work.
…Tight shirts had always looked good on Glam anyway.
He also found a pair of jeans that were always too long for him—they’d probably fit Glam just fine.
After giving him space to change, Ches sat back on his bed, thinking.
I guess Glam will be staying here. I only have one bed… but we can share. I don’t mind sharing with Glam—NOT in a weird way—but I don’t know if he’ll be okay with that or—
His thoughts were cut short by the bathroom door opening.
Glam stepped out—and god, he’d never looked better.
Ches stared for a moment before blushing, guilt creeping in. This was not the time to be crushing on his best friend.
Glam needed him.
And Ches was going to make sure he was happy here.
The next morning, Glam blinked awake.
He remembered last night—how he had shown up at Chive’s house, how Chive had comforted him—and he smiled warmly at the thought.
Then his eyes snapped open.
He suddenly became very aware of the weight cradled in his arms.
His gaze flicked downward and—sure enough—he was spooning Chive.
He was spooning Chive.
Chive was fast asleep, hair a mess, snoring softly. Glam froze, his mind racing.
Why am I holding Chive? Why do I like this? Why is he so warm—am I gay??
He was feeling so many new things at once and was on the verge of jumping up and running out the door when he felt Ches stir.
Glam stopped breathing.
He looked down to see Chive blinking slowly, greenish-grey eyes scanning the room sleepily.
Chive looked up and met Glam’s eyes.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then realization hit—and both their faces turned bright red.
Glam slowly let go and scooted away while Chive stared at him, mouth agape, his brain clearly malfunctioning.
Chive looked like he was about to say something—then suddenly stopped, looked Glam right in the eyes, grabbed him by the shoulders, and kissed him.
Glam froze, confused for a moment—
Then an overwhelming feeling bloomed in his chest, something he had never felt before… but really liked.
Chive quickly pulled away, probably realizing Glam hadn’t kissed him back.
He looked completely mortified, clearly trying to figure out a million different ways to apologize.
But Glam—on impulse—grabbed Chive by the collar and pulled him right back in.
This time, he leaned into it. That strange feeling in his chest… the warmth… the pull.
Ches’s hand came up, running through Glam’s soft blonde hair, and Glam leaned into the touch, surprised at how much something so simple made him feel.
Glam smiled against Chive’s lips.
After a while, they broke apart, out of breath, and just sat there staring at each other—
Before bursting into laughter.
It was breathless, messy, full of adrenaline.
They struggled to catch their breath, unable to stop laughing.
Eventually, things slowed.
Chive looked up and saw the way the light hit Glam’s hair—how, when he opened his eyes, they glistened like diamonds in the early morning sun.
And Ches knew he loved him.
Glam met Ches’s gaze and saw the same boy he’d met by the dumpster not so long ago.
It hadn’t been long since then…
But everything had changed.
And Glam had never been happier.
It had been a couple of weeks since Glam moved in with Ches, and things were going well. The band was gaining more fans and growing in popularity so quickly that they figured they’d probably start traveling for gigs soon. But that wasn’t the only thing going well in Glam’s life lately.
He was also now dating Ches.
So far, things had been really enjoyable. Glam often wrote about their relationship in his journal. They slept in the same bed, of course, but they hadn’t done anything too scandalous yet. Sure, they’d made out, and their hands had… wandered, but intimacy was new to both of them, so they were taking it slow.
They kissed often and did most of the “normal” couple things—but then again, when had Ches and Glam ever been normal?
There were some downsides, of course, like getting called fags on the street or getting weird looks from people trying to figure out if they were dating or just really good friends.
And They had just assumed Lordi and Bob already knew about them—after all, they’d never tried to hide it. But they had never actually told them; they just figured they were being obvious enough.
Apparently, they’d guessed wrong.
One day after a show, they all went to a bar to celebrate. Before they went in, Glam made Ches promise he wouldn’t get too wasted, to which Ches responded, “Come on, Glam, loosen up a little. Why don’t you just have one drink with me? Who knows—you might like it.”
At first, Glam politely refused, but after some… thorough convincing from Ches, he agreed to one drink.
But once all four of them were there, sitting around with drinks in hand, one turned into two, and two turned into three. After an hour or two, all of them were properly tipsy, laughing and just having a good time.
It wasn’t unusual for someone to get a little touchy after drinking, but Lordi and Bob still shot each other a look when Glam snaked his hand around Ches’s waist, pulling him closer to press a kiss to his cheek.
Their mouths dropped open for a moment. They were about to ask what the hell was going on, but the words died in their throats when Ches rested a hand on Glam’s face and pulled him in for a full kiss.
The kiss deepened, and Glam let out a soft, pleased sound before scooting closer until he was practically in Ches’s lap. His arms wrapped around Ches’s shoulders, while Ches’s arms circled his torso. Glam quite liked how easily Ches could pull him in like that—Ches had called him a “twink” for it before… though Glam still wasn’t entirely sure what he meant.
The moment was quickly interrupted by Lori blurting out, “Oh, what the actual hell? Y’all better explain this right now.”
Glam and Ches both looked at them, confused.
“Oh—um… you didn’t know?” Glam asked.
“We weren’t being secretive or anything,” Ches added, his hands still tracing up and down Glam’s torso.
Glam opened his mouth to respond, but Ches’s hands had slipped under his shirt, and suddenly he couldn’t form a coherent thought.
Very quickly, the conversation shifted into a chaotic mess of questions—who, what, why, where, and when this had happened.
After they had told their friends everything they happened the topic shifted to future gigs and venues they’d wanna perform at and they came up with some dates and times and planned to go to a apartment near a couple popular places to perform and decided to go in a month and a half or so .
Glam and Ches were getting ready for their gig that night. Glam stood in front of the mirror, carefully lining his eyes and layering his belts, while Ches hovered a few inches to the side, dusting off his wrinkled coat and very clearly avoiding Glam’s gaze.
The tension between them was thick—unspoken, but impossible to ignore.
When there were only a few minutes left before they had to go on, Glam leaned down to grab his guitar. As he straightened, he instinctively leaned in to press a quick kiss to Ches’s lips—
—but Ches pulled back.
Glam blinked, caught off guard, his lips barely brushing air. He leaned back slightly, confusion flickering across his face.
“Ches… are you okay?”
Ches rolled his eyes, jaw tight. “Sorry. I just didn’t think you’d want to kiss me.”
The words hit harder than Glam expected.
Before Glam could respond, Ches grabbed his guitar and turned toward the stage, but Glam reached out, catching his arm and pulling him back.
“Ches, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Ches didn’t answer. He just pulled away and walked out onto the stage.
They opened with “Smells Like Cherry.”
The lights went out, the crowd roared, and suddenly there was no room to talk—only to play.
Ches started the first lyrics, his voice rougher than usual, edged with something raw. They both played harder, sharper—almost like they were trying to outdo each other. The energy bled into the crowd, whipping them into a frenzy.
As Ches sang,
“You can try to hide from me… but you smell like cherry…”
there was something different in his voice—something heavier.
Glam glanced at him, and for just a moment, he saw it: guilt… and something close to grief.
“I can find you anywhere…”
Ches’s voice wavered, just slightly. His eyes glistened under the stage lights.
“…and I’ll make you merry—”
By the time Glam’s guitar solo hit, the air between them felt electric. The notes tore through the space, sharp and emotional, every chord carrying everything they hadn’t said.
They looked at each other—
—and something passed between them. Quiet, intense, undeniable.
Later, after the crowd had thinned and the last fans had left, they found themselves back in the apartment.
Lori and Bob had told them to meet at the bar at nine. It was only eight.
An hour of silence stretched between them.
Glam sat on the counter, journal open in his lap, though he hadn’t written a single word. His mind raced—Was this it? Were they falling apart? Did Ches not want him anymore?
“Glam…”
Ches’s voice broke through the quiet.
“I, um—I’m… I’m sorry.” Ches rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I was angry, and I took it out on you. I’m not mad anymore, so… can we just forget it?”
Glam looked up, hurt clear in his eyes.
“Ches, we can’t just pretend that didn’t happen.” His voice wavered slightly. “You’ve been upset for a while now, and I’ve been scared you were… losing feelings for me.” He swallowed. “Please. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Ches went quiet, his shoulders sinking.
“…I want a real relationship with you,” he admitted softly. “You know that. But sometimes it feels like you don’t want to be… intimate with me.” He hesitated, struggling to find the words. “I’ve been trying to give you space, I really have. But I love you, Glam—and all I can think about is wanting you. And it feels like you don’t want me the same way.”
The room went still.
Glam stared at him, something breaking open in his expression—something soft and aching and full of love.
Before Ches could say anything else, Glam crossed the room in three quick steps.
He grabbed Ches by the shoulders and pulled him in, crashing their lips together.
The kiss was immediate—desperate, months of pent-up emotion spilling out all at once. Glam’s hand slid up to cup Ches’s face, while the other slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, tugging him closer.
“God, Ches…” Glam murmured against his lips, breath uneven. “Next time, just say something. I’ve wanted this for months.”
Ches let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him as he melted into the kiss. His hands found Glam’s waist, pulling him closer, like he was afraid to let go now that he finally had him.
They stumbled back toward the couch, not breaking contact, everything messy and uncoordinated and real.
Glam pressed him down, straddling him as he trailed kisses along his jaw and down his neck, slower now—less frantic, more certain. Ches’s hands moved over him in return, learning, holding, grounding.
At some point, they shifted, laughing softly against each other’s lips as they traded places, the tension between them finally unraveling into something warm and steady.
It wasn’t rushed anymore.
It wasn’t uncertain.
It was them—finally meeting in the middle, everything they’d been holding back spilling out in touches, in quiet sounds, in the way they held onto each other like they didn’t want to let go.
And for the first time in weeks, neither of them felt stuck.
A while later, they were tangled together in Glam’s bed, skin pressed to skin, Ches draped across his chest like he finally belonged there. Like they both had been waiting for this—aching for it—for months.
Their breathing had slowed, steady and warm, eyes closed as they soaked in the quiet after everything. No rush, no noise—just the weight of each other.
Then Glam’s eyes snapped open.
“…Ches,” he murmured, voice rough, “what time is it?”
Ches barely stirred, nuzzling closer with a sleepy hum. “Mmm… 9:10… why—”
It hit them both at the same time.
Ches’s eyes flew open. He pushed himself up, staring down at Glam in horror. “Oh my— we were supposed to meet Lordi and Bob—shit—”
They scrambled out of bed in a mess of limbs and half-laughing panic, grabbing clothes and dragging them on as fast as possible. It did not help that neither of them looked even remotely put together. If anything, it made it worse.
They absolutely looked like they’d just been fucking .
Glam always had this… look, after. Ches had noticed it before, during stolen moments and heated makeouts—but now it was unmistakable. Soft. Melted. Like all that tension he carried had finally slipped out of his bones. Like he was loose, in a way he never let himself be.
And yeah—Ches noticed. Every time.
It made something in his chest tighten. Made him want more. Always more.
Which was not helping right now.
Glam was struggling with his belt, fingers fumbling, and eventually gave up halfway—his jeans hanging lower than usual, just enough to expose a strip of his stomach. His hair was a mess, blond strands sticking up in every direction, eyeliner slightly smudged.
Ches had to physically look away.
“Are you serious right now—” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand down his face, trying very hard to regain some self-control.
By the time they made it to the bar, Ches was one bad glance away from ordering the strongest drink available, and Glam’s usual sharp, controlled smile had softened into something looser—almost dazed, definitely satisfied.
The second they walked in, Lordi and Bob looked up.
And paused.
“…What is wrong with Glam?” one of them said, squinting. “Is he high?”
Ches dropped into his seat, still catching his breath, and didn’t even hesitate.
“Nah,” he said, way too casually. “That’s just his face now.”
A beat.
Then, with the slightest smirk—
“…we just had sex.”
Glam’s face lit up instantly. He whipped his head around, eyes wide, and hissed through gritted teeth, “Ches—you can’t just say that—”
Ches only smirked.
Like he had zero intention of behaving.
He reached over, trying to pull Glam closer by the waist—automatic, thoughtless—but immediately forgot one very important detail.
No belt.
His fingers brushed straight against warm, bare skin.
Glam broke.
A soft, involuntary sound slipped out of him before he could stop it—quick, breathy, and way too real. He snapped his mouth shut right after, like he could take it back, but the damage was done.
Ches froze for half a second.
Then very slowly—very slowly—his smirk came back.
Glam, meanwhile, had gone completely red. Not just his face—his ears, his neck, all of it. His hands were clenched tight in his lap like he didn’t trust them anywhere else, shoulders stiff, refusing to look at anyone.
The table had gone dead silent.
Everyone was staring.
Ches leaned in just slightly, voice low, teasing, dangerous.
“…Accident,” he muttered, not sounding sorry at all.
Glam shot him a look that could’ve killed him on the spot.
It only made Ches want to do it again.
Just as Ches looked like he was about to push his luck even further, Glam leaned in—close enough that his breath brushed Ches’s ear.
“Shut the hell up, Ches,” he muttered, voice low and rough, edged with
Ches stilled instantly.
“And keep your hands to yourself,” Glam added, quieter now—but somehow more intense. “Or I swear to God…”
There was a pause—just long enough to make Ches’s pulse spike.
“…ile pin you down until you beg for me to stop .”
Ches,s face lit up and he stifled a groan,
his smirk faltering for the first time as he leaned back just slightly, eyes flicking up to meet Glam’s and he let his gaze fall ever so slightly to the pale strip of skin they was still revealed ,
“…is that so?” he murmured, still testing,
Glam didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
The look he gave him said everything. And when Glam suddenly grabbed Ches by the wrist and yanked him up out of his chair, there was no hesitation—no warning.
Ches barely had time to react before he was being pulled along, stumbling a step behind as Glam led him straight toward the exit.
The door swung open, spilling them out into the dimly lit alley just outside the bar, the noise of the crowd fading behind them.
Glam didn’t let go.
If anything, his grip tightened.
Ches felt a thrill run straight through him, a grin tugging at his lips despite himself.
Yeah.he was definitely in for a treat.