Date: Tue, 25 Jun 2002 17:57:58 +0300
From: Neea P. <nea_1@hotmail.com>
Subject: (boy-bands) Needing You chapter 15

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!