This is to Izzy, my Glasgow guys Rob and Dan, Metra, and all the other wonderful people who have graced me with their kind and helpful comments. Hell, it's to everybody who takes the time to read it! Enjoy...
Sorry it took so long! I have lots of excuses as usual. I'll just say that one must take time to play soap bubble war with younger siblings, it improves your sense of humor.
Oh! Lance running off to see Em, claiming to be working, and them getting caught in the act, are all ideas of a reader! Thanks, and see how you can change the world! :)
Disclaimer: This story is not meant to imply anything about the true sexuality or personal lives of the celebrities mentioned. Adult (m/m) content, don't be illegal, stuff like that. Any likeness to real people personally known to me is either purely coincidental and unintended, or not in any way malevolent.
NEEDING YOU CHAPTER 15 By Neqs
"Oh my fucking god!" Marshall's words were laced with wonderment, disbelief, delight, lust, and mild embarrassment. Well, maybe not so mild. When he'd earlier berated himself for acting like a girl, he hadn't yet seen the depths of his disgrace. How low can you go? Well, drooling over pictures of your boyfriend you searched from the web seemed like the lowest point so far.
Still, Marshall couldn't stop himself from letting out a soundless sigh and shivering a little. This picture especially was just so, oh wow. It was of Lance, presumably after a performance or something because he was holding a microphone, and he was hugging a guy - well, that Marshall could have lived without - and his pants were pulled over his butt in a way that made Marshall gulp for the first minute after he first saw the picture, staring at it and gaping unashamedly.
The really sexy pictures weren't the only pictures of Lance that Marshall liked. There was one of him with his ferret that was really sweet, and one of a much younger Lance sleeping curled in a chair.
Some of the older pictures showed some really awful and unfortunate hairstyles. The colors made Marshall laugh. Lance's dorky image was so endearing, even with being so far removed from reality, at least today.
The other guys had looked really weird too, especially Chris. Chris Kirkpatrick. Marshall was only half joking when he bared his teeth at the name. He hadn't forgiven the little jester yet, although his friends had already forgotten all about the unfortunate cell phone incident. No, Marshall had a long memory, and he was in no hurry to get even. On the other hand, it had been almost funny in a way. Not many people had the guts to pull a prank on him. Nah, he'd think about it later. He was too busy drooling now.
Marshall was just about to click the next thumbnail when he heard a loud voice right behind him say "Busted!" He yelped, leaped about two feet up into the air from the bunk in surprise, and almost sent his laptop flying.
"What the- Oh, it's you! What were you trying to do, give me a heart attack?" he snapped at Bizarre, pressing a hand against his heart, which was beating a mile a minute.
"Just be happy it's me and not one of the other guys. You're getting careless, it coulda been anyone sneaking up on you and seeing you eat your boy with your eyes. You'll get caught doing that, and it ain't gonna be pretty."
Marshall glared at him, frustrated. "What the hell am I supposed to do? It's been ages since we've seen each other, and I miss the guy. I'm reaching my limit here!"
"You talk to him every night, right?" Bizarre, for all his whacked rapper-antics, was genuinely concerned for his friend. Marshall wasn't the most stable person, or at least he hadn't been before he got shit head straight, or not straight.
"You know I do. But I need more."
"Okay, so you're horny. Why not go get some ass," Bizarre suggested helpfully. Marshall almost went for his throat.
"What the fuck do you think you're talking about, huh?" he snarled, his eyes shooting daggers at the other man. "I'm not gonna cheat on Lance!"
"Whoa, calm down Em. Didn't mean to upset you. Well, if you need more than phone conversations, and you won't fuck other people, the answer is pretty simple: you have to see him, and soon. The others are wondering about your moods, too."
"I don't know how that could happen. He's still rehearsing for their tour, all those choreographies and shit. That's another reason to be glad I'm not a pop star: I don't have to do all that crazy dancing or wear glimmering stuff-" Marshall was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. A glance at the small display told him all he needed to know to get a smile on his face.
"Remember to keep it down, okay?" said Bizarre, leaving to give Marshall some privacy and to run interference with the other guys. Marshall answered the phone in a quite voice.
"Hey babe."
"Hi sweetie! How's things?"
"Okay, you?"
"I'm great, actually!" Lance replied with an unexpected level of enthusiasm.
"Really? Did something unusual happen?"
"I got the next two days off to take care of some FreeLance business!"
"Um, that's great hon, but I don't see what about that is making you so enthusiastic. Work is work, right?"
"Well, this is different. What city are you in, by the way? Are you getting to sleep in nice, comfy hotel beds often enough?"
Marshall answered, a little baffled by the sudden change of topic. "We're on the bus right now, we left right after tonight's show. We're on our way to Chicago, I think, we have a show there tomorrow and we'll stay for a few days. It's kind of shitty, I've actually got a day off there, but there's this big-ass important meeting I just have to attend, so I can't even come see you. But you'd probably be wiped out from working all day, anyway."
"Chicago, huh? What a coincidence! That's where I'll be tomorrow and the day after."
"Whaat? Really?? Oh, fuck, you better not be shitting me!" Marshall was getting more hopeful by the second, and even if it made him hate himself, he'd hate Lance if this was just a joke.
"I'm not shitting you, I swear!"
"That's fucking fantastic! But... You'll be working, and I'll have the show and the meeting, and we'll barely have any time together. But hey, that's okay, I mean, it'll be great to just see you after so long. And we'll have nights to spend as we please." Marshall's tone made Lance gulp. When he replied, he sounded deliciously husky.
"Honey, the only job I'll be doing down there is keeping you happy, okay?"
"What? What about that FreeLance stuff?" Marshall was confused, but feeling better and better by the minute.
"Totally made that one up. I only told Johnny that to get me a few days off, and I'll spend that time with you, if you'll have me?"
"Have you? I'll have you every way imaginable! I'm not sure I'll let you leave, though. I fucking love you for thinking of this, James."
"I fucking love you too, Em. See how you've corrupted me? And, although it pains me, I'm not the one who thought this scheme up, it was Joshtin."
"Joshtin? Who's that?"
"Em! I'm shocked! Everybody knows that Joshtin is the collective name used for the sickeningly sweet and cute pair, Josh and Justin."
"That's kinda creepy. What would they call us, Lanshall? Marce? They both sound awful!"
"Hmm. I'm sure we'll some up with something better..."
They chatted for a few more hours, telling each other all the inconsequential little details of their days, wanting to keep the illusion of being physically present in each other's daily lives. Knowing about all the little incidents made it seem like they'd both been there when they happened.
Marshall gave Lance all the necessary info about his hotel. Lance's flight would be a late one because he still had dance practice in the morning, and it would arrive soon after Marshall's concert ended. From there on, it'd be just the two of them, getting reacquainted after several weeks' separation.
Two hearts, still far apart in distance, were beating in the same rhythm. 'Soon, soon,' they were saying, chanting, whispering. 'Soon, soon.'
The next morning, Lance awoke with a smile on his face. Today he'd see Marshall! Ah, bliss.
The rehearsals were painful, as always. He was sweaty and aching before ten a.m. He hoped to be sweaty and aching from a whole different reason in just twelve hours.
Lunch was okay. He didn't remember what he'd eaten, probably something like hamburgers, because he could remember Chris complaining for not having enough ketchup. Lance thought absently that this was probably what Josh felt like, walking around in a world of his own, his mind on other things, his attention removed from his immediate surroundings. Lance felt like his mind had already hopped a plane and flown to Chicago. He was happy he wouldn't have to try talk business that day, because he knew he'd be totally useless until he'd had that fix of Marshall Mathers he'd been promised.
At two, Lance dragged his trembling body up from the floor, his abused muscles trembling from their exertions, and wobbled through the door. He got to his room, took a long shower, and grabbed the bags he'd packed the night before. He took a taxi to the airport, and slumped into a seat in the VIP waiting room until his flight was called. He quickly sent Marshall a text message before turning his phone off.
Shortly after he'd dropped into his seat, Lance was fast asleep. He needed to get some rest, to renew his strength, after the exhausting day he'd had even though it wasn't yet five p.m. He also needed to stock up some sleep, because in all probability he and Em would have little inclination to waste any time sleeping that could be used in other ways.
Marshall was restless. He'd been restless all day, and he'd be restless until the moment he had Lance in his arms again. It felt like his entire form was migrating cell by cell, gravitating towards the other man so that what remained was an empty husk of a rapper with a fervent yearning to have the show over and done with. He wondered why nobody else could see the shimmering little particles of him buzzing away like fire flies, little flecks of light. Paradoxically, the escaping light only made his own life light shine brighter, as if he was gaining energy from the ever so slowly strengthening presence of his lover. It could have been just his imagination; it could have been the effects of love larger than life. He didn't care. He had more important things to think about.
Like Lance. He had tried calling the singer a few hours back, but had only reached his voice mail. Now was illogically worried. He knew Lance had boarded the plane, he could feel it in his bones. And Lance had sent him a text message from the airport. So there really wasn't any reason to worry. But he couldn't help it, because knowing Lance was getting closer made Marshall all the more paranoid about losing him. And there is nothing more irrational than a man in love.
Luckily Marshall had something to anchor him to his body, to make him focus to the present, instead of on random fears. The show must go on, after all. He was able to channel some of his anxiety and excitement into his performance. He burned brightly with a passion that was unusual ever for a man known for his sheer intensity.
After the show Marshall wasted no time getting into his hotel. Lance would arrive in an hour or so, and Marshall would have time for a quick shower. Opening the room door, Marshall started to strip off his clothes the moment it closed, making for the bathroom. That is, until a loud whistle from the man sitting on the sofa intruded into his thoughts.
"What the- you!" Marshall rushed to his lover, sweeping him into a fervent embrace and swinging him around with a strength that belied his slim frame. After setting Lance down and kissing him senseless, all the while running his hands hungrily, caressingly all over his body, he pulled back to speak.
"How on earth did you get in here, babe?"
Lance chuckled. "Dre helped me. It would have been suspicious if you'd left the key at the front desk, and I really wanted to surprise you. Did I succeed?" The smirk. Marshall wanted to lick that wonderful smirk off those luscious lips, but then he remembered something.
"You sure did. I was just going to shower - I'm all sweaty and probably smell like sock juice from the show. Care to join me, handsome?"
Lance took the proffered hand with a graceful gesture. "Sure thing, sugar! Lead the way."
Marshall was already mostly naked, and his deft and impatient hands quickly altered Lance's clothed state.
Under the hot, cleansing spray of water, the two rediscovered each other again, slowly exploring each other's naked form, searching out the familiar spots, looking for changes that weren't there. They were effectively the same people they'd been when Marshall's tour started, only their minds had changed, and they'd done it together, thanks to their staying in touch even when it was difficult. It felt like they were in their own little world, where time and space had no effect on them, bending around them like brisk, invigorating winds, or warm currents.
Their mouths, hot and wet, hungry and needy, sweet and gentle, met in a twirling dance, quenching their thirst and making them want for more at the same time. Their need for each other was so great in its multitude of glorious conflicts that they both wanted everything at once and more, and yet needed nothing more than that one, continuous moment.
It was still as if they were of a single mind when they turned off the shower and made their way to the wide, softly sinking bed, where they lay on their sides, their foreheads touching lightly. It might have been a minute or ten, but finally Lance snapped out of the trance that had enveloped them both. He smiled brilliantly, his eyes glinting and glimmering and promising all kinds of enticing and possibly illegal things.
"I can't believe I'm really here, with you," he said in a husky voice that sent shivers down Marshall's spine. "I've dreamed of this, you know, both awake and asleep, and it's never been this good."
"You're here, I'm here. We're finally together again." They fell silent for a moment, as if giving the realization a minute of contemplation. Then they started laughing, as the joy that bubbled inside of them couldn't be controlled any longer.
"You're here! For two whole days, you're all mine!"
"All yours..." Lance's purred response was too much for Marshall, who growled in lust and rolled them over so that he was on top, covering Lance with his form as well as he could.
"Mine!" he whispered into Lance's ear, his breath hot and wet over the sensitive lobe, before he bit into it gently, making Lance's throaty moan reverberate around the room.
The rapper gave into his desire to taste Lance's skin, to devour his body with his mouth. He licked Lance's chin and neck like a puppy, nibbling gently along his collarbones, attacking his nipples with a lazily twirling tongue. By the time he reached Lance's groin, the younger man was gasping and writhing under his wonderful, maddening caresses.
Marshall looked up at Lance's flushed face and closed eyes, and smirked. "You want this, huh? How bad?"
Lance had to gulp for air to be able to give a coherent response, his eyes fluttering open. "Ooh, I want it...want you. So bad!"
"Hmm. I don't think you want it bad enough yet!" And making sure that Lance was watching him with those lust-hazed eyes, Marshall slithered away, moving downwards from Lance's visible excitement, running his tongue over Lance's toes. Lance's whimper was a mix of protest and helpless pleasure. It was not that he didn't thoroughly and definitely enjoy everything his lover was doing, he just wasn't sure if he could take any more of this delicious torment. Luckily for him, Marshall needed him just as badly as he needed his lover, and they were soon totally entwined, joined in their quest for pleasure, greater pleasure, and then wonderful, sweet release.
The door to the suite was carefully opened. Two pairs of eyes scanned the room, finding it empty except for some clothes and some bags on the floor. The men continued toward the bedroom, still taking care not to make any unnecessary noise. The sight of the two lovers curled together on the bed, clearly visible through the open door, made the men stand still and their brown eyes widen.
The men on the bed were clearly naked under the blankets that thankfully covered their private parts. Their blissful smiles even in their sleep also made it pretty clear that they were also emotionally involved on some deeper level.
"Well isn't this sweet?"
The words snapped Lance and Marshall awake from their peaceful slumber, putting them face to face with two sixths (or four twelfths, as you please) of D12.
TBC
HELP! I'm in trouble here... I'm handling D12 here, and I don't even know all their names! So, anyone out there who does know useful little details like that, please enlighten me! I'll be forever in your debt.
Comments are greatly appreciated. Please send some to nea_1@hotmail.com if you have time. Even a short note lightens up my day and encourages to write. I'm especially glad to hear your ideas for the plot. I take requests if I find them interesting, and I most often do. Thanks for the wonderful feedback I've received so far!