Again, I'm sorry for taking forever to write this. Let's just say, depression, work, family, travelling - those are just a few things that have held me back lately. I'm getting through it though! Please ignore occasional trangeness, it's result of weird moods and light editing!
Oh, and by the way: I get lots of ideas for the story from readers, but I'm lousy with names so please don't take offense if I don't always remember to give you credit! Just know that you've been an enormous help, making my job a lot easier!
This is for Izzy, my dearest - please feel better soon! (and not just because I'm a total wreck without you), Rob and Dan (good luck for the new place), Writer Boy (thank you so much for continuing 'JC's Hitchhiker' again!), SumSum (hope you enjoy(ed) the trip hon), Korandda (h&k sweetie!), Metra, Peter, Ryan, Myoshi (thanks again for the sweet pics!), 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.
WARNING! Um... Mildly pornographic and stuff. blush Yes, I know that sometimes you like it like that, but I just wanted to warn you people! Sheesh, bite my head off, will you? :)
Now, on with the long expected...
NEEDING YOU CHAPTER 19 by Neqs
"Oh baby..." Lance's eyes fluttered closed as his lips formed a perfect 'o', his breathy moans interspersed with tremulous sighs, filling the room from floor to ceiling with a dreamy haze until he felt like he was floating on air. Other than his own body, which was tingling with sweet, thrumming sensations, the bed underneath him was the only thing in the room that felt real. Well, except the phone he clutched to his hear with a sweaty, trembling hand, and the unbelievably sexy voice in the other end of the line.
"Yeah, you like that? You like my big hot cock plunging in and out of you, don't you babe? You're such a beautiful slut, James...my beautiful slut! Can you feel me in you?" The voice was raspy and rough with lust; saying things that made Lance want to roll over, bend over, anything. As it was, the distance between them made that impossible, but if he couldn't have the real thing, the voice on the phone and the vibrator he'd found in his bags would do. And how!
"Mmm, yeah! You feel so good! You fuck me so good...No-one can fuck as good as you! Ooh, like that, oh fuck yeah!" Lance was close, oh so close, he couldn't stay still as his body tried to feel everything at once, basking in the exquisite sensations but wanting more, much more.
"Don't cum yet!" The order made Lance whimper in helpless protest. It turned him on even more, bringing him perilously close to the edge, but he wouldn't disobey it. He tried to calm down, but couldn't keep from squirming and panting, almost sobbing. Not because it hurt or anything, or maybe it did, but it also felt so incredibly good he wasn't sure if he could survive it.
"Em, please...I can't help it, I need to come! I'm yours, you know it, all yours and nobody else's!"
The low voice with its soft, sexy accent babbling and begging for relief made Marshall groan, but he bit it back. This was all about Lance. Well, maybe not all about him.
"What are you?"
"I'm- ahh, I'm your slut, your beautiful slut! All yours to fuck and love!" Just saying it made Lance flush with naughty pleasure. The words and the images they created sent sparks to his brain and from there to every cell of his body.
'And fuck of that wasn't a perfect answer,' Marshall thought, taking a deep breath to steady his voice.
"Oh yes you are, baby! And now I want you to switch that vibrator you're fucking yourself with to level two, okay?" Lance complied quickly, sensing the change in his lover's voice. 'Oh please!'
"Now...I want you to touch yourself. You're free to cum, do it for me babe!"
Lance's eyes rolled back in his head as his senses were overwhelmed. His body was exploding through the ceiling, and there was the voice, whispering maddening, intoxicating things into his ear.
"Mine...so beautiful...sexy as hell...all mine...I could fuck you forever...my sweet, fuckable lover..." That did it for Lance, and he erupted with a yelping sigh that made Marshall moan in the other end of the line and come all over his chest.
Though still short of breath, Marshall was faster to regain coherence than Lance. "You okay babe? Was that what you wanted? Talk to me, James!"
Gulping for air on the other side of the country, Lance blinked at the ceiling. He could have sworn he'd shot right through it just a minute ago, but there was no trace of his trip to the orbit there now. Strange. Then he remembered the phone.
"Em, hon, that was fantastic, and exactly what I wanted! Thank you so much! It was even better than last night," he panted as he stretched his body languidly, practically purring from sated bliss.
"It wasn't too rough for you?"
"Oh no, well, at some point I thought I'd die if I couldn't come, but it was so good. And the things you said! Your mouth is so deliciously dirty all I want to do is wash it with my tongue, and then get it dirty again...That sound good to you, hon?"
"Mmm, it sure does!" Marshall sighed. "I miss you so much, babe."
Lance's wicked grin melted into a soft little smile as the mood changed from playful to serious. "I miss you too sweetheart, but talking to you helps a lot. And it's only a week more, right?"
Marshall crossed his fingers. "Yeah, just a week."
Lance frowned down at his laptop. The site he'd wanted to visit was down. Again. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. For a moment he entertained the prospect of a worldwide conspiracy aimed to prevent him from getting what he wanted. The theory was short-lived, though, because he couldn't go longer than a few seconds without thinking of all the things that were right in his life, like Marshall for example. The memory of their latest phone call made him shiver in pleasure.
To make their forced separation more bearable, they'd set out to have amazing, out of this world quality phone sex. 'With wonderful success,' Lance thought to himself smugly. As one could see from his lyrics, Marshall was verbally very talented. He could use words just right to bring Lance maximum pleasure, even though some of them made the Mississippian blush afterwards.
It was also very fascinating how they learned new things about each other's preferences and fantasies during their 'talks'. Nothing turned Lance on like dirty talk and mild domination scenes, as long as they were set in a loving framework. Marshall on the other hand loved Lance's voice in general, and specifically hearing him talk about sucking him, licking him, belonging to him.
From their conversations it might have seemed that their relationship was very one-sided, with Marshall doing most of the 'giving' and Lance being the 'receiving' partner. Well, Lance admitted that it was mostly like that, as they liked it that way. It didn't stop Lance from topping Marshall sometimes, or Marshall from willingly and enthusiastically bottoming. They did what felt good, without making much fuss about roles - except when roles were part of he game, of course. Marshall had had problems with giving up control at first, but he was now gradually getting over his insecurities as mutual love and trust grew and evolved.
Marshall was feeling guilty. He hadn't done anything bad, really; he just might have altered truth for the tiniest amount. Normally this wouldn't have bothered him all that much, because lying was practically a part of his job description, but he rarely lied to the people important to him. And lying to the most important one, well - he was grateful the lie was relatively harmless and insignificant, because otherwise he might have developed an irresistible urge to sprint to a confessional. And he wasn't even Catholic.
It was actually a bit silly. Marshall grimaced slightly at linking the adjective to his own behavior, but couldn't deny its truthfulness. He was exaggerating, taking things out of proportion; putting words after one another for the sole purpose of making himself more anxious by putting words after one another. And if that didn't confuse him enough, he didn't know what would do it.
So. Two days. It didn't sound like much, but it was exactly how much sooner Marshall would see Lance than they had planned. So when Lance sighed 'week', Marshall's mind whispered 'five days', and when Lance enthused about five days, Marshall hummed and kept silent about three, and when Lance bubbled on about three days, Marshall struggled to keep the lid on his own exultation, because, one.
Chris was being Chris again, and that wouldn't have normally irritated Lance so much, but Marshall would be there in three days, and Chris had been being Chris for four hours straight already and Lance's nerves had worn thin a long time ago.
Not that Lance would have changed his eldest band mate for anything. Chris was Chris and that was that, just like Joey was Joey and could name every woman he'd ever slept with, even if reciting the entire list took him over half an hour and he had to consult his little black book sometimes. They were his big brothers, invaluable to his mental health, even though they sometimes came close to endangering it.
Joshtin was another matter. In the not-so-distant past, there had be two entities called 'Josh' and 'Justin', separate from one another, and even when combined different from Joshtin, which only came to being after a series of rather complicated chemical reactions. The individual beings Josh and Justin were still there, but they had been irrevocably altered by the inner dynamics of the Joshtin entity.
And it was just a lot more fun to call them that.
Joshtin had been going through something not unlike a second honeymoon, although they'd already had a second honeymoon, this one being something like their fourth one. Every morning they emerged from their room with a well-fucked glow, which was reassuring and lovely and so on, but it was when they were glowing when they emerged from dressing rooms, suite kitchens, and nightclub bathrooms that the others expressed mild disapproval.
A negative downside to their sexual shenanigans was that when Lance showed up from his lonely room with the same well-fucked glow, the others noticed it right away and ribbed him unmercifully. The one time that Justin walked in on him having phone sex with Marshall didn't help any. Well, maybe it would teach the Timberlake phenomenon to knock before he entered a room if he wanted to avoid the chance of being scarred for life (or laughing himself silly) but it didn't help to save Lance from major mortification.
"Chris, shut up." No effect.
"Chris! CHRIS!!!"
The shorter man stopped bouncing on the sofa and babbling, but didn't take his eyes off the game he was playing with practiced ease.
"What, Poofu-poofu?" Unable to keep still, Chris started bouncing again.
"Can you just shut up for awhile? Please?" Chris sat back and furrowed his brow appraisingly, as if considering the request.
"Nah." Then he started bouncing again, and Lance decided that yeah, he loved his friends, but he'd rather go miss Marshall in his room than be near them a moment longer.
'Huh. What a strange coincidence,' Lance thought as he watched the five men make their way through the hotel lobby. He'd intended to slip out of the hotel and go buy something to read, but now he had another idea. He thought about what Marshall would think of it, and that made him smile.
The phone rang the minute Howie entered his room. "Hello?"
"Hi D, fancy meeting you here!" Ah, Lance. Howie had lost of good memories of nights spent with the blond singer, and a few days too. They were friends as well as ex-fuck buddies and pop idols.
"Oh yeah, I heard someone mention you were in the neighborhood, or even in the same hotel. That's true then?"
"Uh huh. D, listen, I'd really like to see you. Can you come over to my room sometime today?" Howie was alarmed. Lance was hot, and beautiful, and had a boyfriend who would probably slit Howie's throat if he looked at his boy wrong. Or even looked at his boy, period.
"Um, that sounds great Lance, but I'm pretty busy, or I've been busy the whole day, and now I'm really tired and just want to crash, so-"
But Lance wouldn't give up that easily. "Come on D, it'll just take a minute. Please? For old times' sake, if I have to stoop to begging."
What was he, the one-minute man? Even wary and reluctant, Howie was mildly insulted by the implication. Still, Lance's pleading tone made it really hard for him to say no. That would be rude and Lance didn't deserve that. No, Lance deserved only good things, sweetness and light, and- that train of thought couldn't go on or it'd crush Howie like...well, like Marshall Mathers in a fit of jealous, possessive rage. But he couldn't say no, even though the affirmative he squeaked out was weak and apprehensive.
"Great!" Now Lance's voice was shining and happy, and Howie squeezed his nose to remain calm and unaffected. "Room 1214. Are you sure you're okay though? I could always come to your room, actually it might be easier that way."
"No! I mean, no, it's all right, I'll come down once I get settled in. See you then."
"Okay! See you!"
And logically, there was no reason to panic, but Howie couldn't stop freaking out long enough for his rational mind to take over.
"Lance!" Howie's smile was wide and nervous, at least until he remembered that he shouldn't look too friendly and approachable. Or maybe he should seem friendly and platonic, just the opposite of sexy. Or maybe-
"Hey D." Lance's grin was quick and bright and it increased Howie's nervousness some one hundred per cent. They sat on the sofa, Howie surreptitiously inching further away from Lance until he was practically perching on the sofa arm.
"So how have you been? Your boyfriend still in the picture, I take it?"
"Yes, he's wonderful. We see each other so rarely though. Actually, what I need from you has to do with him. I need a favor, and you're just the guy who can help me."
Oh no. How hard could it be to say no to Lance? Lance with soft skin, enchanting eyes, sexysexy voice, skillful tongue, unbelievably intoxicating- Damn! Damn damn damn.
"Uh, Lance, I don't know, are-"
"Really, D, we're friends, right? I'd normally feel embarrassed for asking you this, but I feel like we're close, and besides, I do have good motivation."
'What a dangerous, warmly shining smile. So deceivingly guileless.' He'd always thought Lance could act anyway.
"Lance, uh, your boyfriend?" Howie was chewing his lower lip desperately, looking around him for a way out. His eyes measured the distance to the door before he remembered it was his room. Oh, well. And besides, did he really think he'd reach the door before Lance's voice could charm him into returning? Yeah, that's what he thought.
"What about him? He's actually the reason I need this favor, or part of it anyway. You see-" Before Lance could continue, Howie interrupted him by twisting his hands in his hair and pulling it in a gesture of desperation, groaning from frustration.
"Lance! I'm sorry but I can't do this, really there's nothing I want more, well, except maybe to be able to stop ironing my hair, but really, I can't do this and I'm so sorry! I hope we can be friends, you're an amazing guy and your boyfriend's lucky to have you!"
Lance wasn't sure what to make of Howie's little speech. "Um, D, sweetie, are you sure we're on the same page here? When did signing stuff become such a big deal?"
Howie did a comical double take. "S-signing stuff? Um, uh, huh?"
Lance was still puzzled enough to refrain from rolling his eyes and complimenting Howie on his eloquence. "Yes D, what did you think I meant? You see, my boyfriend, he has a daughter who for some strange reason adores you guys. Well, I adore her almost as much as I love him, and thought I'd surprise her with autographs from all of you. Um, if that's not a problem, that is?"
Lance's voice trailed off uncertainly, his expression increasingly hesitant as his confusion mounted. Howie couldn't keep him in the dark, mostly because he was so relieved he could kiss him - or on a second thought maybe not - but also because he thought Lance deserved to know the reason why Howie'd been acting so strangely.
"Oh god, Lance, you're going to laugh at this, even if I didn't find it so amusing just a minute ago. You see, I kinda figured out your boyfriend's identity-"
At this point Howie had to pause in his explanation to calm Lance down, as he was on the verge of panicking.
"What?! How, when?" Howie hastened to reassure his friend.
"I saw the way you two looked a each other, I don't think anyone else noticed though. Your secret's safe with me, of course. I take it you're happy with him?"
His mind set at rest, Lance smiled beatifically. "So very happy, I can't describe it to you. He's so much more than the public sees, and so good to me."
Howie was relieved. He'd seen the sparkle of new but true love between the two that night, but he'd still worried about it. The guy did have a horrible image, and Lance was such a sweet person. Howie suspected he might be just a little in love with the green-eyed man, but he refused to do anything about it. It was all nice and good and slightly painful but the sooner he got over it the sooner he could find someone to love who loved him back. And if he couldn't - even casual sex was better when you weren't pining after someone you couldn't have.
"So, what does you knowing about Marshall have to do with this?" Lance gestured vaguely at the room, referring to Howie's fit earlier.
Howie grinned. "Well, it's really stupid, but I wasn't thinking clearly then. You'll laugh yourself silly over this."
Lance settled into his chair more comfortably, content to pass some over-abundant time in the company of a friend. In two more days, Marshall would be there, and time would once again become a valuable commodity eternally in short supply.
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!