This is to Izzy, my Glasgow guys, and all the other wonderful people who have graced me with their kind 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.
NEEDING YOU By Neqs Chapter 8
Marshall couldn't define it to his satisfaction. It was moments like this that made him wish that he'd paid a little more attention at school when he was a kid, but on the other hand, he didn't think this was the kind of thing you learned about in class - unless it was a poetry class, or philosophy or something having to do with the inexplicable wonders of life.
There were things that were lauded just because they followed the norm but failed to be special in their own right. Lance's beauty wasn't like that. It shone from within; you could see it in the dreamy glimmer of his eyes, the gentleness and sheer goodness of his smile, the self-conscious yet graceful way he moved. His skin was like peaches and sunlight and flour - flour? White and matte and soft and feeling so smooth.
No, Marshall decided, he just couldn't find the words to describe everything that made the man sleeping beside him so especially special. That was just the way Lance was, and there wasn't anyone else like him. Marshall prayed - he never prayed, but no-one was to know what he did in this room with the early morning light painting golden stripes in the ceiling, watching his lover sleep - he prayed that Lance would never change.
Lance made funny noises in his sleep, like a little fussy animal, scrunching his nose and twisting his lips adorably. Sometimes he sighed something that sounded almost like words. And he farted a few times, too, small sounds. The few goofy hairs on his chin tickled Marshall's hand when Lance nuzzled his cheek against the softly stroking touch.
"Em..." Marshall's hand froze, and his heart melted. Lance was still asleep, sighing as he rubbed the side of his face on the pillow.
'That sort of stuff is only supposed to happen in movies, right?' Marshall thought shakily, resisting the urge to collect Lance's liquidly warm body to his arms and love him to death.
'I know he's not perfect. He can be too serious at times, getting miffed when I'm only joking. He hates it when his plans go wrong. He gets horny when he's drunk - well, that's not a bad thing. But still, he has a million little faults and imperfections, and I want to know them all. I don't love him in spite of them, but because of them. They make him the person he is.' Marshall realised that he wanted to jealously guard all of Lance's little quirks and keep them all to himself.
Love.
It was a word Marshall Mathers didn't have lots of experience of using. He was a man who tended to give his affection to few, his trust to fewer. Sometimes he thought that love was like any other four-letter word, with same value.
He'd spent years being afraid to love, but when he found love, or it him, he found out that love meant fear. Fear of losing the other person, fear of not being worthy. Irrational, paralysing fear.
'It was the best of times, and the worst of times.'
Lance lifted his face from where it had been burrowed into his lover's chest. He felt no need to say anything so he just giggled softly at the man resting his head in his hand and looking down at him with tenderly amused sky-blue eyes. Lance hid his face again and playfully rubbed his nose against the warm, defined muscles, eliciting a mock-irritated growl from the other man.
A strong palm began to make soothing motions on his back when he let his fingers dance on the smooth skin where his hands were tucked between their chests. He stopped and just lay still, savouring the calm peace and sense of timelessness that floated above the bed in the morning light.
Lance decided that his legs had always been the loneliest part of him. At times, when he'd been around someone he was attracted to, they'd itched with the desire to wrap around that person, to squeeze him so tight.
Sometimes the person hadn't even needed to be that attractive. It'd been enough that he'd been there. Alcohol seemed to bring the need closer to the surface, too. And yet it wasn't just horniness, although Lance admitted that he got really horny when he drank. No, it was just this loneliness, loss of needed and wanted pressure. It was like his legs knew they should be surrounding the form of someone special, and not necessarily in a sexual way.
Some people said that you could feel ghost pain in amputated limbs, as if they were still there. Well, Lance felt like he'd been robbed of that something to hold on to, and his legs ached for the lost closeness. They were too light, and there was this feeling of not belonging. Maybe that was the reason he couldn't dance, Lance mused semi-seriously.
'No need to think about things right now. Now is meant for feeling content, feeling warm all over. Now is meant for squeezing Em's legs oh so tight with my own. Now is meant for feeling like no one else exists, and the world is this room, this bed. Now is meant for forever.'
"What do you mean you've never had sex in the pool?" an astounded Justin asked Marshall. "That's so weird!"
Marshall asked himself for the six hundredth time why he'd ever agreed to play drinking games with a boy band. Oh yeah. The answer was sitting next to him on a cushion snagged from the sofa, smiling brightly. His lovely boyfriend who'd looked at him with those clear, round eyes full of timid plea.
Of course the fact that Lance was a horny drunk had nothing to do with Marshall's willingness to play drinking games. At least it wasn't spin the bottle.
"I grew up in Detroit. We didn't have many pools in the neighbourhood. I don't swim that well, so excuse me if I haven't wanted to drown while having sex," Marshall said grumpily.
"Your turn, Josh!" Joey shouted happily. He'd done a lot of things, and had consequently drunk a lot of drinks. The rules of this variation of 'I never' were simple: You said something you'd done beginning with 'I never', and all the other players who'd done it too had to drink. This went on around the ring until everybody was too drunk to speak or got bored of the game. This late in the evening, sex was the main topic of conversation.
"I never...blew someone while they were driving." Josh said, smiling brightly and taking a sip.
"How are me and Joey supposed to have done that?" Chris demanded exasperatedly. "So what if we're a minority here, what happened to being politically correct?"
"You're quite right Chrissy," Justin agreed. "Let's change it to both giving and receiving a bj in a moving vehicle, doesn't matter which one," he finished, sipping his vodka on the rocks.
Joey downed his drink and looked at Lance and Marshall, neither of who was touching their drink glass. "Put it on your to do-list, guys. It's mind-blowing," he said before exploding with mirth for his pun.
"I need another drink. Joey's jokes are starting to sound funny," Chris said, getting up. "Anybody else need a refill?" He collected orders and moved behind the well stocked bar, observing the others while mixing a tray of drinks.
'Some vodka on the rocks for Joshtin, a margarita for Joey, and nothing to Lance and Marshall because they've got most of their drinks left. Poor Lance hasn't done much, and surprisingly Marshall isn't much better. Or he isn't telling,' Chris pondered as he mixed the requested drinks. 'Now there's a strange guy. A bit icy at times but seems more intelligent than his image suggests. And Lansten certainly wouldn't hang around a total ass for long, so there's got to be something cool about him, other than his frosty eyes.'
Chris was adding a drop of Tabasco into Joey's drink when he glanced at Marshall, and the drop became a spoonful. He hastily righted the bottle but continued to stare at the sight that had startled him a moment before. There was Marshall Mathers, looking at Lance with eyes that were anything but frosty and cold. They were almost smouldering, but with affection as much as with passion. Lance, oblivious, was laughing at something Justin had said.
'Well,' Chris mused, stirring Joey's extra hot drink with a straw, 'isn't this interesting. Eminem infatuated. Good for Lance!'
"So whose turn is it now?" he asked as he flopped onto his cushion after distributing the drinks.
"Yours!" was chorused around him.
"Okay, okay! Now let's see. I've never...tried any bondage stuff!" he smirked, taking a good gulp of his screwdriver. This time, the only one not to drink was Lance, who blushed bright red.
"I never go anywhere without my favourite padded handcuffs," Justin declared. "I'd be glad to lend them to you, Lance!" he offered generously.
Lance, who still bore a strong resemblance to a tomato, cleared his throat in embarrassment and murmured his thanks. He then hurriedly changed the subject by reminding Joey it was his turn.
Later, after they'd left the four fairly far-gone pop stars happily sprawled on the floor, readied themselves for bed in the suite they shared, and arranged their bodies comfortably in the bed, Lance raised the topic again.
"So...you have some experience of bondage, huh?" he asked Marshall's chest, his favourite pillow.
"Well, I've fucked someone who was tied up once, but that's about all. I'm not into all that equipment stuff, and all that dominance shit seems a bit silly to me. And pain's a definite turn-off for me," Marshall replied decisively.
"As you know from earlier, I've never tried bondage. I don't really feel like doing anything that hurts or is humiliating. Some people like stuff like that, and that's cool as long as it's consensual and nobody gets really hurt, but it's not my thing. I'm a pretty vanilla kind of guy, you know, but I could always try something not so extreme with someone I trust," Lance finished, looking up at Marshall.
"Really? What did you have in mind?" Marshall was curious and very interested.
"Well..." Lance hesitated for a few moments, and then seemed to gather up his courage. "Justin did offer to lend those handcuffs. That might be exciting. And I've always wondered what spanking would feel like," he finished in a rush before hiding his face in his boyfriend's chest.
Marshall looked down at the younger man, almost not believing his ears. Lance's ears, he noticed, were very, very red. A slow smile tugged at his lips as he began to rub the mortified singer's back comfortingly with his hand.
"It's okay babe, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Everybody tries that stuff at some point, and if they don't they want to but are too chicken to say it! It's not something you do with someone you don't trust, unless you're looking for trouble. You do trust me, don't you?"
Lance quickly raised his head to meet the rapper's eyes. "Of course I trust you! It's just...it feels so weird to be talking about stuff like that. I would like to try it sometime," he finished with a bashful smile.
"Then we'll do it sometime, but in the meantime-"
Lance had been distracted by his thoughts until this moment, but now he was feeling extremely horny. "Oh yeah! I need some hot, hard loving right now," he asserted, crawling up Marshall's body seductively, his eyes burning with lust.
Marshall flipped them over so that his body covered every part of Lance, pinning his arms over his head. "How do you like this?" he growled playfully.
Lance struggled experimentally, smiled up at his man, and bucked so that their naked groins pressed together more tightly. As Marshall hissed in surprised pleasure and threw his head back, Lance swiped his hot, wet tongue over the exposed neck. Then he bared his teeth and very gently surrounded the other man's Adam's apple with his teeth.
"Feeling feisty tonight, huh babe? That's fine by me, just watch the fucking teeth, okay?"
Lance pushed Marshall back to search for lube and a condom. It was an automatic reaction by now. He turned onto his stomach to reach the drawer and its contents, and Marshall didn't let him turn around when he'd retrieved the needed items.
"Let's try it this way tonight, shall we?" he suggested as he straddled Lance's thighs and put on the condom. Lance mumbled an impatient affirmative. Marshall then spread Lance's legs with his own and prepared Lance with his lubed fingers, until the man moaned into the pillow and ground his pelvis onto the mattress.
"You ready?" Marshall didn't know why he was being so careful tonight. Maybe it was the previous discussion, or something about the position, but he felt very responsible for some reason.
Lance had no such reservations. "Take me, now dammit!" He was practically wriggling his deliciously round bottom, invitingly, desperately. "I need it Em...need you!" He groaned in satisfaction as Marshall slowly sunk his hardness into the smooth, muscular sheath to the hilt.
Both men paused to draw in a shuddering breath, momentarily frozen to place by the intensity of the feelings the intimate connection caused to spark through their tuned bodies. After expelling the air from his lungs, Marshall hooked his hands over Lance's shoulders from below, and began his deliberate, unwavering, rhythmic thrusts.
Lance moaned, whimpered, and wriggled under the delicious, unspeakably satisfying weight of his lover's muscular body. There was something in it that revoked some deeply primal and unutterable instincts within Lance, as his lover gently ravaged his willing form, gyrating his slim, strong hips to probe deeper, to hit the spot within Lance that made him see sparkling hot cold stars behind his closed eyelids.
Marshall rained kisses on the flushed shoulders and neck the man trembling in immense pleasure underneath him. He felt himself skitter along the edge of abyss and further intensified his thrusts, determined to make Lance ride the same wave of sweet release with him.
"Come for me baby, come with me NOW!" And with the last word Marshall held on tight and pushed himself as deep into the other man as he could.
Lance wasn't seeing stars anymore. This was a supernova, and he felt its roaring heat curl his toes and flex every muscle in his sweat-soaked body. He clutched at the sheets with shaking hands, and uttered a string of high-pitched whimpers as he gave into the urge to climax.
It was later. Marshall had lifted himself off Lance, despite the latter's protesting noises, and rolled to one side taking Lance with him so that they were spooned, front to back. Their slowly cooling bodies were damp with sweat, and aching pleasurably.
"Shower?"
"Okay. As soon as I can gather enough energy to move."
You would have figured Lance for the neat freak, but that wasn't the case. When Marshall Mathers felt icky, he felt icky. Drying sweat along his spine began to itch, and he just couldn't wait any longer. He climbed out of the bed, dragged the protesting Lance after him, tossed him over his shoulder, and stumbled towards the bathroom.
"Hey! Heyheyhey! Put me down Em, I can walk on my own!"
"Yeah, if I give you half an hour to rest, and if you don't by magic fall asleep on me during that time first."
"I thought you didn't mind when I used you as my pillow. You've got some bony parts, but also some wonderful, comfy surfaces, like your wide chest, your sweet, slim tummy, your lovely, round little butt-"
"No, I don't mind if you use me as a pillow, as degrading as that may be, but I need a shower sometimes when you're trying to fall asleep on me. And my ass is off limits, by the way, so it's no use to heap praise on it. Ah, here we are," he said as he grunted and he set Lance on his feet in the shower stall, starting the water.
Lance looked thoughtful as he soaped his body. "Something wrong, babe?" Marshall asked, tickling the younger man beneath his chin, trying to coax a smile out of his lover.
The green-eyed singer gave a small smile. "Don't worry about it honey, let's get you nice and clean and then go to bed. It's been a long day," he said, taking the washcloth from the rapper and proceeding to wash him briskly but gently. 'But soon, my love, we need to talk,' he added in his mind.
TBC
I'm not sure who said/wrote that 'best of times, worst of times' thing. Tennyson, Dickens, Wilde or someone like that. Whoever it was, it belongs to them, not to lil' ole me!
Comments are greatly appreciated. Please send some to nea_1@hotmail.com. Even a "read it. didn't puke. feel free to write some more." is nice, if you have nothing else to say. Thanks for the wonderful feedback I've received so far!