Date: Mon, 03 Jun 2002 22:19:31 +0300
From: Neea P. <nea_1@hotmail.com>
Subject: (Boybands) Needing You chapter 12

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...

Parts of this chapter were especially inspired by a chapter of 'JC's
Hitchhiker' by Writer Boy, an amazing author, and by the wonderful pics of
Lance in a thong my darling Izzy sent me a few days ago!

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 persons,
as in people personally known to me (like ex-boyfirends...), is either
purely coincidental and unintended, or not in any way malevolent (no, not
even ex- boyfriends... I'm just too nice).

NEEDING YOU
By Neqs
Chapter 12

The theme of Marshall's last three days at the hotel seemed to be sex. Or
more accurately, stocking up sex like wild animals. Except that wild
animals really didn't stock up sex. Anyway.

It had started soon after Lance came home to the hotel to find Marshall
camped on the couch with a bandaged ankle and lots of ice cream. He had
immediately gone into mother mode, fussing over Marshall until the rapper
was almost irritated with his lover in addition to being embarrassed. Then
he began to enjoy being the centre of loving attention, and was quite happy
to sit back and let his very willing lover do all the work.

At this point, Marshall was reclining on the sofa with his wounded ankle
resting on a soft cushion.

"Is there anything else I could do for you hon? Anything I could fetch?"

"Well, you could kiss it and make it better." The suggestion was given with
a playful pout.

"Now why didn't I think of that?" Marshall put his hands behind his head in
a posture of relaxation, but his groin tightened when he felt the gentle
touch of Lance's soft lips on the sensitive skin of his ankle.

"Did that help?" Lance's murmured question sent warm air over the hair on
Marshall's leg, and he shivered.

"Yeah, that was nice. But now we have another problem." They both gazed at
Marshall's erection, which was demanding attention even through the thick
denim it was encased in.

"Oh, my. A big problem indeed! And hard to solve. Needs a sensitive touch
and lots of attention."

"I have no doubt you could do an excellent job on it, babe." Needing no
more encouragement, Lance swiftly unzipped the rapper's jeans and pulled
down his boxer briefs.  After admiring the beautifully proportioned member
for a moment, he kissed it reverently, making the other man gasp.  Then he
enfolded the head of the throbbing rod into the velvety wetness of his
mouth, letting his tongue dance on the ultra-sensitive skin. Marshall
slammed his eyes shut with a hiss of pleasure and surrendered to the
feeling.

Later, after he'd regained his breath from the experience of Lance's
energetic riding which had brought him to an orgasm that had actually made
him black out for a few seconds, Marshall thanked his younger lover to both
their satisfactions.

Well, except that now they were trying to outdo each other in pleasuring
their partner. And that took a lot of time and energy. Lance's band mates
got used to seeing the two vanish towards any semi- private place, or slump
around in a dazed state if they had for the moment exhausted all their
energy. Even then, they were all over each other with small touches and
lazy kisses.

* * *

Lance frowned at his laptop. This was something extremely important, and it
was essential that everything would be in order for the night. He checked
the list on the screen one more time, comparing it with the one he'd give
room service.

'Strawberries, check. Whipped cream, check. Chocolate sauce, check. The
blindfold I'll get from Justin, and I'll go shop for the costume. Must be
perfect...'

Lance's organiser's soul took great pleasure in planning for Marshall's
last night at the hotel. True, it was sad that he was leaving, but it would
be better to celebrate their time together rather than to use the short
time left moping. It would also be good to leave on a happy note, and this
way they'd remember the good times better while they were apart, and would
be more determined to get together soon again! Yes, Lance was an
intelligent, crafty young man.

He would also enjoy the evening even more so because he would know that
everything was going exactly as he had scheduled and planned.

* * *

One step into the suite and Marshall stopped in his tracks. Sniffing the
air like a wary rabbit, he was careful not to slam the door. Lance didn't
like that.

'Vanilla... One wouldn't think vanilla was sexy, but it is.' The scent was
clearly coming from the candles that had been artfully scattered around the
suite. The lights were suitably dimmed, but for some reason not completely
off. A room service cart with several covered dishes also attracted his
attention momentarily.

"James? Are you here?"

"Right here, honey. Now close your eyes!" The answer came from the
direction of the bedroom.

"Why?" But despite his token protest, Marshall obediently closed his eyes
and waited. Lance was apparently satisfied with this, because the next time
he spoke, Marshall could feel his warm breath on his cheek as he was fitted
some kind of a blindfold.

"What is going on?" Marshall was slightly startled, but trusted Lance
enough to go along with this.

"Hush, this is for you, babe. Now relax and enjoy!"

Marshall grumbled good-naturedly while he was led to an armchair. He
settled down when Lance straddled his thighs. His beautiful lover seemed to
be wearing...absolutely nothing. Marshall fidgeted for a moment, testing
his theory also with his hands until Lance took them and placed the on the
chair's arms.

"No touching, mister!"

"Are you naked, baby? Why can't I see you or touch you?" Marshall was
getting a little flustered.

"No, I'm not, and this is about you, not me. You'll see me soon enough,
although you might have to wait a little more to get to touch me. Now, are
you hungry?" Lance was always so considerate, but sometimes his focus was
misplaced.

"Only for you."

"No more cheese for you, gag boy! And I think I know how to make you
eat..."

Marshall heard a few muffled clinks, and then Lance's mouth was on his,
with a strawberry.  Marshall took it and savoured the sweet, sunny
taste. 'Not as sweet as James, though.'

"Want some whipped cream with that? And no jokes!" Marshall just nodded,
and soon his mouth was full of soft, sweet, rapidly melting cream. 'Not as
delicious as James, though...'

Soon, he was too wrapped up in the sensations of the randomly alternating
tastes of berries, whipped cream, fruit, and sinfully full chocolate sauce,
all served from Lance's hot and wild mouth to make comparisons. It was
growing increasingly hard to get his hands to stay on the armrests, and to
keep from throwing Lance on the floor and taking him on the spot.

It was unfair that Lance could use his hands, and he did, burrowing them in
Marshall's short hair, letting them massage and caress the rapper's
shoulders and neck as the kisses grew more needy and passionate.

Finally Lance drew back to catch his breath, steadying himself with his
hands on Marshall's shoulders.

"I think it's time for the next phase. You're not hungry anymore, are you?"

Marshall was also more than a little out of breath. "Next phase? You're
killing me! Killing me with pleasure, sure, but killing me nonetheless!"

Lance chuckled as he rose from his seat on Marshall's lap, first at the
comment, then at the other's whimpered protest at his movement.

"Just a moment, love. You'll enjoy what's next, I promise!" That settled
Marshall down for the moment. He waited patiently as he could sense Lance
moving around, and then he heard the music.  Rhythmic, erotic, compelling
music. Then, suddenly, his blindfold was removed, and when his eyes got
used to the light again, he could only gape at the sight before him.

It was Lance, and he was not naked. No, he was wearing a sparkling piece of
cloth, bright gold against his smooth, luminous skin, and it was very
clearly a thong. His breathtaking body was presented in a dancer's pose,
with his hips thrust forwards and his hands above his head, one leg before
the other. His eyes, when Marshall had devoured the rest of his body with
his hungry gaze, were smouldering, showing he was well aware of the effect
he was having on his lover.

Marshall had been hard as a rock after the 'food session', but the short
wait had made him soften a bit. Now, he was harder than ever, and from the
glint in Lance's eyes, he would only be getting harder before he would get
softer. And he was sure he'd enjoy the ride!

Lance began to sway, first almost imperceptibly, then in wider, more
inviting motions. No matter how hard Marshall wanted to jump his lover and
fuck him blind right then and there, the hot, green gaze froze him in his
seat. Well, some parts of him were well above zero...

Whoever said Lance couldn't dance had clearly never seen him give a lap
dance. If they'd been recipients to one...well, let's just say they might
never have been able to get themselves together well enough to talk about
it, after. Marshall knew that his head, along with his other parts, was
ready to explode as Lance moved in front of him, over him, on him with
liquid grace and raw sensuality.

Lance had grown from a beautiful boy to a beautiful man. He would always be
beautiful, but now he was also a sexy hunk of a man, aware of his allure,
although he seldom used it on full power.  Tonight, however, was a special
occasion, and Marshall deserved only the best on their last shared evening
in what could be quite a while.

So, Lance surrendered himself to the rhythm, giving his all without holding
anything back, and when Marshall couldn't take any more and swept him into
his arms and tossed him on the bed, he raised no objections. Instead, he
threw his arms over his head, stretching his graceful frame over the bed in
a catlike motion that made Marshall pause in his feverish undressing before
he hurriedly continued.

"Coming?" The seductive purr made Marshall groan and almost trip in his
haste to get out of his pants.

"Soon, babe. But not before I'm deep, deep inside you..."

With one smooth move, Lance stripped his thong and tossed it aside. "Any
way you want me, sugar."

"I want you in every way, but first-" He rolled on a condom and slicked it
with lube before sliding his fingers between Lance's invitingly spread
legs. With a few practiced fingers he made Lance writhe and whimper with
need, before he replaced them with his hardness.

They'd had hours of foreplay, and now they urged each other towards a
climax that left them trembling with shock at the almost painful pleasure,
breathless and boneless and engulfed in the exquisite sensation of unity,
oneness, that they could reach together.

* * *

Roused from his slumber by the rude ringing of the alarm clock, Marshall
hurriedly checked if Lance's sleep had been disturbed. It hadn't
been. Good. He needed all the rest he could get.

Marshall slid out of bed, careful not to step on any of the used condoms on
the floor. He counted them absentmindedly. Four. In his mind, he could
replay every single time they'd made love the night before. He considered
taking the condoms and putting them into the trash, but he wanted Lance too
to be able to see them and smile at the memory of each one. His dick ached
slightly, and his ass did too, although Lance had born the brunt of their
passions.

The sight of Lance in that thong... If there was a shapelier, juicier ass
in the world, Marshall hadn't seen it. Not that he cared to. First of all,
he'd never believe it, and secondly he was tied to Lance not only by
physical attraction, but also by an emotional and intellectual bond.

Marshall showered unhurriedly and put on some clothes. Then he lay on the
bed on top of the covers, admiring the curve of Lance's side and the steady
rise and fall of his hairless chest. He was entranced by the shadows
Lance's soft eyelashes cast on his sleek cheekbones.

For a good thirty minutes Marshall lay there leaning on one arm, satisfied
to let his eyes drink Lance in, satisfied to be breathing the same air with
him. Then he glanced at his watch, sighed, and collected his bags that
Lance had so considerately packed for him the day before. He started
towards the door, but one glance back made him drop his bags and climb back
next to his lover. He squeezed him tightly, desperately, before laying a
soft kiss on Lance's lips, then another on his forehead. With a whispered
'I love you', he left the suite without looking back.

* * *

Lance drifted into consciousness slowly, yawning and puffing and mewling,
and making all the little stretches and noises people usually do when they
can be as lazy as they want getting up. Still half asleep, he let his hand
slide on the sheet to the other warm body, which surprisingly was not in
its accustomed place. The aberration jolted him to full awareness.

With a sad sigh, Lance lay back on the bed, grabbing the other pillow and
inhaling Marshall's scent that still lingered. They had agreed not to say
goodbye in the morning because Marshall had to leave quite early and they
both preferred to pretend they'd see each other soon again, instead of
making a big event of their parting.

It had seemed so logical then. Now, Lance felt incredibly lonely and
vulnerable. His body was still aching pleasurably from Marshall's
attentions from the night before, but his heart was aching with the loss of
them, of him, no matter how temporary. This would be their first
separation, probably the hardest to endure. They had been spoiled with
having so much time together this first time around, and now they must pay
for it.

Lance was feeling pretty bleak at that point.

When Lance finally threw back the covers and swung his feet on the carpeted
floor, he noticed a small, square box in gift-wrappings on the floor. He
must have accidentally thrown it from the bed while turning and tossing in
his sleep.

A slow, wide smile crept on his face while he opened the package. So much
wrapping for such a small thing! Bits and pieces of elegantly coloured
paper flew all around the room as Lance attacked it with childlike
enthusiasm. Finally, a small jeweller's box was revealed, and Lance opened
it, holding his breath. Finally he expelled the air with a dazzling smile.

Lance beamed at the exquisite platinum locket on his palm. When he opened
it, he was disappointed to see that only his own picture was inside. 'Maybe
one day...' He hurried to the mirror and put it on. It would have been
better if Marshall had been there to do it himself, but that was not
possible now. Lance wondered if Marshall had yet found the packet Lance had
put in one of his bags while packing them. He really hoped the rapper would
like it.

* * *

Marshall sighed and knocked his head on the cold bus window. It was
raining, which suited Marshall's miserable mood just fine. Exasperated by
his involuntary blues, he stomped to the bunk area and began to dig his
portable CD player from his bag, where he met with a surprise.

He examined the little package suspiciously before sniffing it carefully.
The scent of LANCE that wafted from the little velvet bag made him close
his eyes and inhale like a caffeine addict presented with a cup of coffee
after a week of going without.

After a few minutes he slowly lowered the bag, opened it, and upended its
contents on his palm.

The object was a white gold bracelet, masculine enough in design for even
his public persona too wear. It was tastefully engraved with bold M's, and
as he looked closer, Marshall could see the L's that stood for Lance
forming the background, faint, but visible when you knew what to look for.

Marshall smiled with a serenity that would have astounded any reporter as
he fastened the bracelet on his wrist, where it fit perfectly. He checked
his watch. It was already eleven. Lance should be awake already even after
their late night, but not yet at the studio. He pressed number one on his
speed dial and waited.

"Hey, you!" was Lance's cheery answer thanks to caller id.

"Hey..." The following silence communicated much. When they spoke, it was
on top of each other.

"Thanks for the bracelet-"

"The locket is lovely-"

They chuckled a little sheepishly, wearing silly grins that greatly amused
the respective audiences - in Lance's case his band mates who he was
breakfasting with, and in Marshall's his fellow rapper Bizarre, who was the
only other member of D12 to know of Marshall and Lance's relationship at
this point.

After retreating to more private places Lance and Marshall could voice
thoughts and feelings that would have gotten them endless jokes and
comments from the listeners.

"I missed waking up with you this morning." Lance's voice was quiet and
tender in Marshall's ear.

"I wanted to wake you up so bad. I watched you sleep for half an hour
before I left. I wish I were there with you..."

"I wish you were here too. And you know what? Next time you better wake me
up! Or better yet, we'll just make love the whole night long! How does that
sound?"

Marshall groaned at the image of him and Lance sweaty and all tangled up
together with the new sun painting them golden. "That sounds oh so fucking
wonderful! I miss you like hell already. The next time had better be soon."

"It will be, babe, it will be."

TBC

Comments are greatly appreciated.  Please send some to nea_1@hotmail.com
Even a short note lightens up my day and encourages to write.  Thanks for
the wonderful feedback I've received so far!