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!