Late again, sorry! I blame a busy last week at my summer job, moving back to my student place, and generally lack of time to breathe. Will try not to let it happen too often.
Again special props to Korandda, who always gives me wonderful ideas to write (and last minute corrections), Izzy, my dearest (who also gives invaluable beta!), Summy, Rob and Dan, Writer Boy, Metra, Peter, Ryan, Myoshi, Julienne, Trish, Bethany, 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...
Disclaimer: This story is not meant to imply anything about the true sexuality or personal lives of the celebrities mentioned. Adult (m/m) content, probably foul language, don't be illegal, stuff like that. Any likeness to people personally known to me is either purely coincidental and unintended, or not in any way malevolent.
NEEDING YOU CHAPTER 22 by Neqs
It got Lance thinking and once something got him thinking, he just had to find out what the truth was. Had to. Lance fidgeted on the couch until Marshall noticed.
"Something wrong babe?"
"Em?"
"Yes?"
"I...I just don't understand it. I hear your songs on the radio, and you sound so angry and bitter. You're not like that with me, though, and it seems like you're two different people. It can't all be an act, unless you act with me too."
Marshall could see that Lance was perplexed, even a little upset about the whole thing. He settled down to explain it the best he could.
"You're right, babe. Part of it is an act, but not all of it, and definitely nothing when I'm with you. My songs, they're a way for me to express myself, and what often comes out is what I want to 'purge' out, something very negative and dark. I don't feel like that all the time, and that's when my image insists that I act a little, meet people's expectations of me. When I'm with you, though, all the bad stuff goes away. I don't hide it, or at least I try not to, but I wouldn't want to put you through one of my moods."
"So you only want me to see your good side?"
"No, well, yes, I guess it's natural to want to be at your best for a person you care for deeply. I can be a mean bastard, I can be a crass asshole, but I don't want to be those things with you. I don't feel those things when I'm with you."
"I want you to be yourself. Don't show me what you think I want to see. I'm not that superficial." 'Even though some people you've known have been.'
Lance wrapped gentle arms around his lover, consoling him even if the rapper wasn't aware he needed consoling.
Saying goodbye in hotel rooms was getting to be a habit. A habit Lance was getting tired of. First of all, he never wanted to say goodbye to Marshall; second of all, hotels were starting to feel confining. He needed a change; a breath of fresh air...and then the idea came back for him. It would take some careful planning, but the end result would be worth all the trouble, he was sure of that. He opened his calendar and dialed a certain number on his cell.
He waited until the other person picked up. "Hey, this is Lance. Listen, I've got this great plan, but I'll need your help to make it work. You interested in an adventure?"
The pleased chuckle was all the answer he needed, but honing the details took until the little hours.
Marshall was starting to get a little pissed. And impatient. And cold. He paced down the alley and back again, as much to stay warm as to release frustrated energy. He'd had a long day and he wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower and his bed. Oh, and to call his boyfriend, who'd been sounding really weird lately. Like there was something going on. Like- nah, he trusted Lance and he was sure he'd find out all about it sooner or later.
Where the hell was Dre anyway? When he'd called Marshall earlier, he hadn't given him a chance to protest before barking out an order to meet him on an alley not far from the hotel in fifteen minutes. Marshall had been there fifteen minutes already, but there had been no sign of the other man, and he wasn't answering his cell.
Marshall swore again and paused to blow hot air into his hands, cursing Dre and his stupid ideas and the amazingly horrible weather in the city he was in...wherever that was. It wasn't like he was keeping track anymore. The only reason he might have wanted to know it was so that he could tell Lance, but Dre had already e-mailed Lance the entire tour schedule, so the green-eyed man was probably more up-to-date about Marshall's timetable than he was. And there was nothing wrong with that in Marshall's book.
Marshall spent a few moments thinking about the unlikely but very real bond that had sprung to existence between the low-voiced Mississippian and the older, black man. It gave him no small amount of joy how well the two most important men in his life got along. Lance was on first-name basis with rest of the D12 guys too, but they hadn't really hit it off the way Lance and Dre had. Marshall had no doubt their heads would be turned eventually. Lance could charm anyone, and the guys sort of liked him already, so Marshall was positive they'd fall under his spell before too long.
Lance's spell...it wasn't that Lance was handsome in the classical sense. His face was a bit weirdly shaped and his nose was slightly crooked or something, but the combination of all his peculiar characteristics was utterly enchanting. He looked sort of - well, alien, or otherworldly. Marshall felt suddenly very silly, freezing his ass off on an alley in some nameless town, trying to come up with a suitable definition for his lover's strange, irresistible charisma.
Maybe it was the eyes. They were such a light, rare shade of green, enigmatic and almost ethereal. And his smile was sweet and sexy and everything in between. Marshall knew it was bad manners to call a guy beautiful, but Lance was just that...a strange mix of unearthly allure and very real, flesh and blood joy, tears, laughter, conflict, and pleasure. Nobody was perfect, not even Lance, but once you gave Lance even a little piece of your heart, he grabbed it and it was his for life. Marshall still couldn't understand how he'd lucked out like he had; he only wished he knew what he'd done so right because he didn't want to start doing something wrong. He only hoped following his heart would keep him on the right track.
Marshall swore, startled as he slipped on a patch of ice and almost fell on his ass. Where the hell was Dre already? He kicked a stray coke can in exasperation and felt childish satisfaction at the loud clatter that sounded when it hit a metal trashcan. He was looking for more things to kick when he felt strong arms grab him from behind. In a flash he was blindfolded, with his arms tied behind his back. Underneath him was something warm and firmly soft, maybe a mattress in the back of a van. He lay there in stunned silence, his mind racing.
'Holy shit, what the FUCK? Who are these guys, and what the hell are they gonna do to me? Did I finally piss off some wacko? Oh fuck---'
Then the mattress moved and startled Marshall out of his shocked stupor. He felt a warm breath against his neck and stopped breathing. Okay, he was laying ON someone. Psychos, anyone? In the space of a split second his mind entertained a thousand horror visions of what was going to happen to him. But then...
Marshall inhaled deeply through his nose and froze. That smell...a fresh, clear fragrance that seemed very, very familiar. It was a mix of a certain soap, after-shave, and cologne, faint but separable, and Marshall was instantly torn between relief, elation, and fury.
"So you think this is funny, huh? Scaring me half to death with stupid tricks like this, that's not very nice." Still, he snuggled his head into the curve of the other man's neck, sighing contently as warm, loving arms wrapped around him.
"Aw, I'm sorry honey. I just wanted to really surprise you. Did it work?" The soft, husky voice with a giggly undertone made Marshall shiver and forget his irritation.
"Hell yeah! I was fucking terrified for a moment there. But now you're here... Hey, untie me and take this blindfold off, okay? I'm feeling a little left in the dark here."
Another soft giggle in his ear. "Nah, I sort of like you like this. All trussed up and at my mercy."
Marshall cleared his throat and tried to stop his pulse from racing. Okay, lying in arms of his lover in the back of some van speeding across the city, all tied up and blind-folded, was definitely NOT hot. There was absolutely no reason to feel like bursting through his jeans, none whatsoever. And nothing sexy in the feeling of vulnerability and the experience of total trust that his helpless state required. He just wished his dick would agree.
He moaned breathlessly as Lance nibbled on his ear. His ears had always been one of his hot spots, but under the circumstances... It might have been dark behind the cloth covering his eyes, but he was still seeing stars.
This time Lances chuckle was deeper, huskier. "Oh, you like it too, huh? How interesting." And then he conquered Marshall's mouth with his own demanding lips, making him first tense and then relax under the furious onslaught. It felt like Lance's tongue was trying to emulate a dick, fucking his mouth deep, hard, and rhythmic until Marshall couldn't help but whimper and arch back, exposing the pale expanse of his neck in surrender. Taking the hint, Lance attacked the offered skin with his hungry mouth, stealing small, measured bites that left Marshall writhing and panting for more. Or maybe it was Lance's gently rocking hand on his crotch that did that. Marshall didn't know; he was beyond caring.
Marshall would have loved to run his hands over Lance's body, ending up with his fingers tangled in his hair, directing his talented mouth to where he wanted it. To pull the other man closer, melding their bodies into one, to be able to do anything about his pleasurable predicament. His hands were still tied behind his back though, tight but not uncomfortably so. The muscles on his arms bunched futilely as struggle to get free...not that he really wanted to go anywhere.
Lance seemed to understand Marshall's conflicting emotions, and after one last, sharply loving bite he began to rain butterfly kisses on his lover's face and neck. His hand easily found the zipper of Marshall's baggy jeans and slid it down. Marshall groaned from impatience, and then in surprised ecstasy as he was swept into the scorching confines of Lance's most highly talented mouth. The strong suction and the fluttering tongue almost drove him out of his mind and he bucked his hips up from the floor, until Lance gripped them firmly with both hands and held them down.
"Impatient, huh? I just can't imagine what's gotten you so hot all of a sudden." This was SO not the right time for Lance to get playful, Marshall thought as he growled in frustration.
"Why don't you untie me, and then we'll see if it's funny anymore."
Marshall heard a soft rustling sound, and then the blind-fold was removed. He blinked furiously and drank in the sight of his lover in the dark van. The blondish-brown hair was slightly tousled, and his mouth was dark and glistening moistly. Marshall's ice-blue eyes instantly found Lance's green ones, and their gazes locked into silent communication.
Lance smiled a little sheepishly as Marshall's eyes burned into his. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a tease. You just looked so delicious there..." and Lance's eyes meandered hungrily from Marshall's face to his raging hard-on, which was still red and wet from Lance's attentions.
"Why don't you taste me then, James?"
Lance flashed him a quick smile and gave him a soft peck on the lips. "You don't have to ask. I love your cock, and I love sucking it. And most importantly, I love you, and that means that I'm yours. I just wanted to see what it felt like, having total control. But that's enough talk, I think there's something that needs taking care of here."
And then he descended on Marshall's dick with total concentration and dedication. The rapper's head snapped back as he inhaled sharply in pleasure, biting back a scream. Lance's head bobbed up and down as he slurped and relaxed his throat, letting Marshall thrust his hips upwards and fuck his mouth ferociously.
Marshall's hands were still tied, but now that Lance was fully cooperating he was having no trouble getting what he needed. He pumped his hips up from the carpeted floor, shoving his dick into Lance's welcoming mouth and gently squeezing throat. Lance obliged him by humming deeply and creating vibrations that made Marshall's cock throb even more, until he released his creamy load down Lance's throat with a muffled shout.
Marshall stared upwards from his boneless sprawl on the floor, seeing only blackness. Had he gone blind? He couldn't really see anything. Oh, yeah. It was dark in the van, and the ceiling would hardly offer anything worth of seeing anyway. He moved his gaze to Lance, who was gently licking him clean and tucking him into his pants. His own clothes-covered erection was very much in evidence.
Feeling Marshall's eyes on him, Lance sat back on his heels with one last loving pat on Marshall's crotch and smiled at him. Even in the relative darkness, his love shone from his eyes clear as a day. He slowly crawled up and released Marshall's hands, sitting back to see how the rapper would react. For a moment he did nothing, then he flexed his arms carefully. Then he suddenly reached out and pulled Lance in for a fiercely passionate kiss, seemingly wanting to swallow him whole. Lance just moaned and went along willingly. When Marshall pulled back some five minutes later, Lance whimpered in protest and tried to follow him.
The rapper had something to say, though. "Well, if you're mine, I'm yours just as completely. I might not always show it as easily as you do or in the same way, but it's no less true."
Lance smiled back gently. "Oh, I know that. Don't worry, I know."
Right then the van stopped moving and the door was pulled open, letting cold air and artificial light flood the back. The two men tried to shield their eyes, trying to get used to normal light again.
"You enjoy the ride, Em?" The voice made Marshall swear, but he wondered why he was even surprised. Twenty minutes ago he'd been glad Lance and Dre had hit it off. Now he wasn't sure if the pair wasn't a recipe for disaster.
"Dre, what the fuck? You scared the shit out of me, you stupid fuck!"
"Come on, you know you love surprises. Besides, your boy's got something special planned for you, so stop grouching."
Marshall couldn't help lightening up a little. He turned to Lance, taking his hand. "Something special, huh? Just seeing you again is special to me," he said with a quiet smile.
Lance smiled back smugly and squeezed Marshall's hand. "Same here, but what I've got planned is a little more elaborate. We're going on a trip, hon, just the two of us."
Marshall raised an eyebrow speculatively and looked at Dre. "And how does this fit with my schedule?"
"Oh, the last three concerts were cancelled, didn't you know? Aw shucks, I guess we forgot to let you know. Well, now you do!"
Marshall kept glancing from one smug face to another, starting to smile a little and then breaking into a crazy grin. "Oh fuck yeah! This is fucking fantastic!" The black man received a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and Lance got a slow, deep kiss square on the mouth. When their lips separated, Dre was still grimacing with mock disgust, making a big show of wiping his cheek.
"Gay cooties, yuck!" His huge grin pretty much ruined his efforts, though. "Okay, out you go, guys! You don't want the plane to leave without you, do you?"
Climbing out of the van, Marshall looked around. They were at an airport, but not at a terminal. There was a small, streamlined jet not far from the vehicle. Marshall eyed it longingly. "Our plane? We're flying somewhere?" he was getting more and more excited by the minute.
"Actually, the plane won't leave without us. It's waiting just for the two of us," Lance remarked as he jumped down.
"A private jet? How the fuck did you arrange that?" Marshall felt like squealing in excitement. He restrained himself with sheer willpower. He'd flown in jets before.
"A friend of a friend...we couldn't really fly commercial together, you know? But come on now hon, your chariot awaits."
"After you, Mr. Hollywood."
Saying goodbye and thanks to Dre who just beamed at them happily, they ascended the stairs to the gleaming jet. Marshall tried to guess where they were going, but then let it lie. He'd get it out of Lance soon enough. He had his ways...
TBC
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