Date: Fri, 20 Sep 2002 21:38:39 +0300
From: Neea P. <nea_1@hotmail.com>
Subject: (Boybands) Needing You chapter 23

Sorry for the extreme lateness folks. Part of the blame goes to school, but
that's not all the reason.  This series is slowly coming to a close. There
are a few chapters still left, but my heart's not in it like it used to
be. Lately, I've been more and more engrossed with my side projects, up to
the point that NY has become the side project. (Last week I posted a short
story, 'Unlikely Unions', which some of you already noticed. I've gotten
some wonderful feedback on it, and though hadn't planned to, I'm writing a
sequel.)

First of all, thanks to the three ladies who keep me sane or at least on
the happier side of insane...  Izzy (my beta fairy, bless her heart of
gold!), Kor, and Summy. Thanks also to Rob and Dan, my fave couple :),
Writie, 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 devoid of malevolence.

NEEDING YOU
CHAPTER 23
by Neqs

The kiss came as a surprise, rousing him from his sleep slowly, gradually,
until he felt like he was spiralling upwards through pink, fluffy
clouds. 'Nice,' was his less than rational thought. 'I'm so butch.' As he
slowly regained consciousness, he instinctively deepened the kiss, moaning
into the warm, slippery mouth against his own.

When the lips disappeared, Lance made a protesting sound as he blinked
sleep from his eyes. He glared accusingly into the laughing blue eyes that
met his bleary green ones.

"Hey, where'd my kiss go?" More awake now, Lance hid a smirk of triumph
when he saw his pout take effect. He happily settled down for at least an
hour of kissing.

Life was so much better now that Marshall had gotten over his pre-brush
phobia.

* * *

"Babe?"

Marshall turned to face Lance after one last look out of the plane window.
He loved to watch the clouds, especially when he was somewhere warm, dry,
and safe from rain and wind.

The expression on Lance's face was pure seduction. Marshall felt himself
harden, despite having come barely half an hour earlier in the van. Lance
could do that to you.

"Yes, lovely?" He grinned as Lance wrinkled his nose at the nickname before
switching back to seductive mode.

"I was wondering whether you've heard about this fascinating thing called
the Mile High Club..."

Marshall snorted. "I've only joined it, oh, maybe a dozen times. No offense
love, but the bathroom thing gets a little old."

Lance didn't seem discouraged; in fact, his smile just widened. "Who said
anything about bathrooms? Not me. Especially when it's just the two of us
here."

Marshall tried to keep thinking with the right head, but it was very, very
hard when Lance moved to straddle his lap on the plush, wide plane
seat. "Wha-what about the pilots?"

"What about them? I'm sure we can have great fun without them, just the two
of us." Marshall gasped when Lance's hot breath tickled his ear. He
couldn't hold back a moan when he felt his sensitive earlobe being gently
nibbled.

"Not, not what I meant, mm, oh, Jamie, yeah..."

* * *

"I'm supposed to be the one who gets called 'albino', so how come you're so
white?" Lance asked his lover, whose pale back he was vigorously coating
with sunscreen.

"You've seen me naked before, dozens of times. I haven't lost any pigment
since last time."

"Yeah, but seeing you here in the sun just made me realize how pale your
skin really is. You're pretty white all around."

"Well, sun-tanning and beaches aren't really my style. I grew up in
Detroit, the murder capital of America, remember? It gets pretty cold there
too."

"Mississippi is pretty warm, and so is Orlando. I guess beaches are more my
style then, part of the image of being the all-American boy-next-door. And
we, the guys and I, we've traveled during breaks, checking out cool
tropical places like this island."

Marshall looked around again. Oh yeah, the island. It was still difficult
to believe that he was really here, with his James.

Even the colors of the place seemed unreal. Brilliant blue water and even
bluer sky contrasted with fine white sand, and vivid green trees and
brilliantly colored exotic flowers framed the view. The picture was
perfected, of course, by one green-eyed brunette who'd finally given up the
incessant blondification of his earlier years in the public eye. Marshall
sighed in contentment.

He'd told the truth: traveling to exotic locations and soaking up the sun
really didn't match well with either his image or his personality. Beaches
were also places where people could show off their perfectly tanned bodies,
bulky or curvy. Marshall knew his body wasn't anything to look at. It was
his body, useful as such and he didn't really hate it, but he wasn't overly
proud of it either. On the other hand, his lover's touch could raise his
self-esteem a hundred points any day, especially...

He snapped out of that line of thought when he felt Lance sprawl over his
back.

"Babe? What are you doing? Not that I mind."

"Mm, I couldn't stand the idea of the sun burning your lovely skin and I
thought I'd protect you with my body." Lance arranged his limbs so that he
wouldn't put all his weight on Marshall.

"Uh, thanks babe. That's really sweet of you." Lance didn't feel heavy at
all. The weight wasn't uncomfortable, but comforting, a reassuring pressure
that made Marshall close his eyes and sigh again.

"Okay, love?" Lance's voice was a low and husky, and when it vibrated
through his chest into Marshall's back, it felt heavenly. His only reply
was a pleased little murmur and the slow smile that spread on his face when
Lance cherished his shoulders and neck with velvety butterfly kisses. Yeah,
he didn't have much experience with this tropical thing, but he was willing
to learn.

* * *

"No way! Forget about it!" Lance sighed in frustration at his lover's
vehement protest and horror- filled eyes.

"Come on, you'll love it! It's totally safe."

"No it's not! Haven't you seen the movies? They're down there, just waiting
to get you!"

"Em, sweetie...I promise I'll protect you. We don't have to go
deep. Please.  Do it for me?"

Marshall groaned. "You're evil! All right, I'll do it, but only in the
shallowest spot."

Lance hid a smug grin. Who would have thought that the infamous rapper was
afraid of sharks?  There weren't any around, but his irrational fear was
old and strong. Still, Lance was confident that they could get past
it. After all, if Marshall loved sex in the shower, making love in the
ocean was going to blow his mind.

* * *

Marshall shook water out of his hair as he waded closer to the shore. A
refreshing little swim had been exactly what he needed. The air was still
warm even though the sun had already gone down, and while the water wasn't
cold either, it was cool enough to help him shed his daytime sluggishness.

He swam a lot these days. Not very far into the open sea - he still
shuddered at the thought of having so much water under his feet, water
something big and hungry could be lurking in - but still farther than he'd
gone before. It was certainly easy to just go for a swim when the shoreline
started about ten yards from the veranda.

Marshall had been surprised to see that the house was really a house with
all comforts, not just some rustic cabin. On the other hand, he should have
known that Lance always traveled in style.  Marshall was used to nice
things, he wasn't dirt poor anymore, but he wasn't going to even try to
list all the wonders of the house. There was even a recording studio in the
basement! Yeah, it was that sort of a 'cabin'.

It was getting darker, and the light shining from the windows was warm and
welcoming, exerting an irresistible pull on him. Marshall willingly let his
feet lead him into the spacious kitchen, where Lance was chopping fruit for
a salad they'd eat with caramel sauce. His mouth watered both at the sight
and at the thought.

Leaning over the counter to kiss his lover, Marshall could taste traces of
banana and pineapple on his lips. He probed deeper with his tongue, wanting
to explore all the different, delicious nuances he found there, from the
more or less exotic fruits and berries to the essence of Lance.

"Did you have a good swim?" Lance's smile was warm, and calm. He was
positively glowing with serenity.

Marshall shrugged off the feeling of unreality as he smiled back. "Yeah, I
did. The water was just perfect." It felt too good to be true, so what? It
felt real too, the most real thing that had ever happened to him. "As are
you."

Lance chuckled and pecked him on the lips. "You're just saying that because
I feed you!"

Marshall pretended outrage. "I'm the one cooked breakfast today, remember?
How quickly they forget..."

The corners of Lance's eyes crinkled as he laughed quietly, his eyes
dancing with love and amusement. "Oh, I don't think eating chocolate
pudding, strawberry sauce, and banana slices off each other's bodies
counts. The thing you did with the yogurt drink was pretty neat though."

"Hey, don't forget the French toast! It took me three tries to get it
right."

"They were wonderful, hon. And so were you..."

"Babe?"

"Yes, hon?"

"Do you think we're having an overdose of sugary stuff? Both in our diet
and otherwise, I mean."

"Hmm...nope. We should do like we feel. We're alone now, there's no one
telling us what to do.  No pressures, no audiences. If I want to be
disgustingly happy with my boyfriend, that's what I'll do. Is that okay
with you, Em hon?"

"Absolutely." Marshall walked behind Lance and wrapped his arms around him,
squeezing him tight. "Absolutely."

* * *

Sometimes Lance thought that people idolized tropical islands because the
climate made them pretty much clothing-optional. Life was so peaceful and
relaxed there; even the animal life was unhurried, sort of positively
lazy. There was something in the combination of heat and freshness,
wildness and tranquility that made you more aware of the real priorities in
life. Not ambition, not success, not wealth - just being, being happy and
content. Not the selfish and inconsiderate kind of happy where you only
cared about your own little world, though. It had more to do with realizing
how wonderful life could be, and remembering that feeling when the shit hit
the fan.

And it wasn't just the big crisis you had to look out for, either. Little
day-to-day dissatisfactions and frustrations could eat you away piece by
piece, corroding your faith in all the things that made life worth
living. The slow drip-drip pressure that could drill a hole right through
you, like Chinese water torture. The feelings of helplessness and
inferiority, the depression he hadn't even realized he had been suffering
from.

That was in the past, though. Six months ago Lance would have made fun of
any fool who suggested that love could be any kind of ultimate solution to
all his problems. Okay, he still would. It wasn't like that. Being in love
made him feel more confident and gave him balance, something to fall
against. It hadn't so much solved his problems, as it had given him the
strength, assurance, and clarity of mind he'd needed to tackle those
troubles. It made everything so clear when before it had been muddled by
the weight of just being, just existing without any higher purpose than his
job description as a human being, a lazy Christian, a son, a brother in
blood and in spirit, a singer, and an all-around superstar. Worthy
pursuits, sure, but none of them had made him experience the wild joy mixed
with calm vitality that he felt now. It was like he was breathing with a
new set of lungs, thinking with an entirely different tongue, one that
imbued his words with truer meanings than ever before.

Maybe it wouldn't last. He'd fought his insecurities a thousand times and
he was sure the battle would never be completely over. It was his nature as
a human being to wage war against his own happiness. That didn't matter,
though. Even if it ended tomorrow - which didn't seem likely at all but who
knew what could happen - it would still be worth it. Just that one shared
look, that one memory made, and it was worth all the pain and horrific
emptiness would follow. He'd changed, changed because of these emotions and
the revelations his newfound senses offered, but he didn't regret any of
it. He had no doubt that he was a better person for it, and he'd never
thought that there was something to be ashamed of in being happy.

Lance shook his head with a wry smile. The night of the tropic was making
his thoughts long and heavy. He remembered a line from a novel, it must
have been one of those Marshall was always reading: 'A boy's will is a
wind's will, and the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.'

Hmm. Well, at twenty-three he didn't consider himself a boy any longer, but
he could see how his somber ruminations could seem a little childish or
melodramatic. People found different things important and worthy of serious
thought. Sometimes it seemed like thinking about things, especially
abstract concepts, was considered to be somehow embarrassing. It wasn't
'hip' to take things seriously. It was easier to scoff and scorn, and
really, that could be amusing and entertaining for a while, but as an
attitude towards life? Lance didn't think so. At least, it wasn't for him.

He let his gaze drift sideways once more to admire the view. The silver
moonlight seemed almost solid as it streamed over the bed, making the
sleeping figure glow with cold, mysterious luminescence. The open windows
let the warm wind in to explore the high-ceilinged room with amused
whispers. The play of light and shadow on smooth skin and the gravity of
his thoughts soon pulled Lance to the other man as if magnetized. He
burrowed closer to the silvery shape of his bedmate that wasn't cold at
all, but warm and supple, and then it was dark.

* * *

They talked a lot. About their families, their pasts, and how they felt
about music. They were both much closer to the families of friends they had
chosen for themselves than their biological families.  They loved music,
but could have lived without the publicity crap that came with being a
professional performer. Performing was something they both enjoyed most of
the time.

They were quiet a lot too. They were so tuned to each other that they could
often communicate with just their eyes and their facial expressions. There
seemed to be an even deeper vein of silent communication buzzing between
them, making speech not only unnecessary, but also unwanted.  They didn't
need to say certain things out loud in order to make them real anymore.

* * *

It was their last night on the island and they were watching the end
credits of a breath-taking sunset roll beyond the horizon. They were a
little ways from the house, lounging on a blanket in front of a fire,
trying to make the most of it.

They'd been lying there stargazing for some time when Lance cleared his
throat and broke the peaceful silence. Marshall squeezed his hand and
turned to see what was making his lover fidget.

"James? Something's on your mind, you've been pretty quiet all evening."

Lance lowered his eyes momentarily, embarrassed at having been caught.
"There's something I've been wanting so say to you, and I think tonight is
the right time for it."

Marshall wanted desperately to make Lance feel at ease. "Spit it out, love.
Whatever it is, we can handle it together."

"Um, yeah, that's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."

When it seemed like Lance wasn't going to go on, Marshall reached over with
his free hand and playfully prodded him in the side, making him
squeak. "Come on Jamie, don't try to tell me you didn't have a plan for
this! Babe, you always have a plan for 'talks', and besides, it's just me:
your boring, devoted, psychotic boyfriend. So just tell me. You wanna sing
a duet, fine. I'm still gonna say no to that sex change operation
though..." Then they were both laughing uncontrollably, curling into each
other in their shared amusement.

Gasping for breath and still chuckling, Lance brushed a few tears from his
eyes. "Oh Em, you're really something." He settled back down and cleared
his throat again. "Okay, here goes. Em, sweetie..." He took one last deep
breath before launching into his prepared speech.

"You just don't know how wonderful you are," Lance said. "I know I can
trust you completely, and that there is nothing I can do that will make you
stop loving me. When I'm with you I can let go and just be, without holding
anything back. I don't have to be smart, or organized, or independent - I
can leave myself totally open and defenseless. You give me strength, but
allow me to be weak.  You're everything I need, and you make me feel proud
for needing you."

Completely unprepared for something like this, Marshall blinked back tears.
"James..."

"No, please let me continue. What I'm trying to say is... I feel closer to
you than I've ever felt to anyone. I can't imagine feeling like this
towards anyone else in the future, and I don't want to.  We've had our own
private paradise here, but it's you who's made it so special, you and being
able to be with you. I don't want that to end. Maybe it's selfish of me,
but I want...more."

Marshall swallowed unsteadily. "More is what I want too. More time with
you, more of you, all of you."

"You have all of me. Never doubt that."

"I don't. Maybe...maybe it's time we started putting first things first.
What we have comes first for me. You?"

"Me too. And now..."

"Now we must plan. And I know how much you love making plans, babe."

TBC...

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 take requests if I find them interesting, and I often do. Thanks
for the wonderful feedback I've received so far!