Mr. and Mrs. Shinoda

                                    

                                          
Mike paced up and down next to the wall of windows in the Denver hotel room. It was a nice room with a giant king sized bed and a sitting area, everything pristine gray and white with modern artwork. He knew it was expensive. He knew his father had picked the most upscale place he could, just to show that he was the man with the control. The thought made Mike cringe internally. He has no idea how Chester lived when I met him. He assumes that we're just young and broke. But we've got a nice apartment, and Chester has a great job. With benefits. Completely adult, and in control.
It was all he could do not to step up to the mirror and look at his hair again. The long strands were falling over his forehead and his ears, and it made Mike feel safer, like he couldn't be seen. Dad is going to hate it. He'll tell me to get a haircut. At least he'll like Chester's hair.
Mike turned his head to look at his boyfriend's freshly shaved head. He seemed to be as worked up over the day as Mike, fretting over which outfit to wear while Cheese sat primly next to his suitcase, watching. Two nights ago Mike had watched as the chocolate brown curls he loved were systematically shaved away, leaving crisp, clean lines around Chester's skull. I even cleaned up the back. He let me help. It had been hard to help, when all Mike wanted to do was pout, but he managed to keep his emotions in check, telling himself it wasn't his hair. It wasn't his choice.
He tugged at the sleeve of his flannel and then patted over the front of his t-shirt. Mike knew his choice of clothing wouldn't be his father's favorite, either, and he'd already decided if the flannels came up at all, he would just have to shrug. Reminding Muto that all of his clothes had been left behind when he was kicked out, that Dave's dad had been the one to give him his first flannel to wear, wouldn't go over well. He was supposed to be mending bridges, if only for the sake of his mother.
Mike felt his insides pinch at the thought of seeing her again. It was so close now, just an hour away, and the longing had built up to an unbearable level. He couldn't wait to step into her embrace, for the smell of the Chanel perfume she always wore to comfort him. He knew he was going to cry, and he hated that certainty. Introducing Chester through tears wasn't how he wanted to do it, but he was his mother's child. Emotional.
Mike tried to focus back on what was happening in the hotel room. They needed to leave soon, and Chester was still standing in only a pair of bright red underwear. Mike's eyes traveled all over his lover's almost naked body, drinking in the pale skin, the flame tattoos, the curved shape of Chester's lower back, the round bulge in the front of the red underwear. Mike loved Chester with every ounce of himself, and despite wanting to see his mother, he was fully prepared to get up and walk out if there was even a hint of malice toward Chester. They didn't need that. Mike would protect his boyfriend, even at the expense of having his mom back in his life. He'd been without her for years, and when things had been at their worst, Chester was the one who had never strayed, never left him behind.
That's it. If they're mean at all, Ches and I will take Cheese and leave. We don't need that negativity. The three of us will be fine forever without them. Mike watched as Cheese stuck her tiny paw out and placed it on a shirt, and it brought a brief smile to his face. "She's helping," he said to Chester as he paced around the windows again. 
Chester looked away from the red dress shirt Cheese had picked out, to his pacing boyfriend. "Not sure "helping" is the right word. That's the third shirt she's picked out," he complained, before letting out a sigh. "But that one does match my underwear," he mumbled under his breath, and that was all it took. He scooted their puppy out of the way before picking up the shirt that had a white collar and matching detailed stitching. He tugged it over his head, pulling it down and straightening it out before stepping in front of the full sized mirror that was across from the bathroom.