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Whispers	By : Queenie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Eminem/Marshall Mathers Views: 6550 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Eminem (Marshall Mathers). I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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**A/N: Part of this was written by the lovely Katevh, from when the boys leave the bar right up to the end. So kudos go to Kate :)

The next night I had a show to do, it was just past midnight before I could get away from the throng of fans, promoters, minders and officials who seemed to want to track my every movement. "Em, sign this, Em, pose for that photo, Em, I want your baby..." And on and on. I felt like I was suffocating by the time I got back to the hotel, felt as if I was never gonna breath properly again. And to make it all worse, I still couldn't stop thinking of the kid.

I knew it was ridiculous, I mean, I probably wasn't even gonna see him again. Stupid to be wondering about him, worrying about him. I lay in bed, having turned down the offers of parties, booze, drugs, whores (that last made me wince.) I was feeling claustrophobic, crowded and lonely all at the same time. My room was painfully empty and painfully surrounded. I was trapped again. I needed to get out of there.

"I'm just going down to the bar for a drink. You don't gotta come." I told Joseph, the bodyguard standing outside my door.

"Sorry, Mr. Mathers, I'm paid to keep you in sight," Joseph looked sympathetic, but unmovable. That is, until I placed two hundred dollars in his hand.

"I'll be back in a few hours. You ain't seen a thing, right?" I raised an eyebrow at him, cocking my head to the side. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah, all right, Mr. Mathers. For all I know, you're still in your room."

"That's the spirit," I muttered, "Thanks, Joseph. I appreciate it." I strolled away from him, down to the elevators. I really was just going for a drink, just to get away from the hotel for a bit, just to escape...

It only took me ten minutes to get to the little bar, I knew the way from yesterday. Before I walked in, I paused for a moment, taking a deep bh. Hh. He wouldn't be there. I was kidding myself, and good, 'cause when I saw that the bar was Jason-free, I could go back to the hotel and continue living my life as if I'd never met him. It'd just take one glance, one look to set my mind at ease. So why the fuck was I so nervous? Why couldn't I bring myself to step up to the door, open it and push my way inside? What was stopping me?

The problem was solved when a young couple suddenly exited and saw me there. "You coming in?" The woman asked me, smiling and holding the door open. Even if she knew who I was, she was too drunk to recognise me, she was just being friendly and helpful, so get a fucking MOVE on, Marshall, get in the door and thank her.

I did so, my heart feeling like it was about to beat its way right out of my chest. My eyes scanned the room, avoiding the bar at first to search the pitifully empty dance floor, the darkened tables, seeing no sign of my thin redhead. MY thin redhead? Man, I was tripping.

Finally, I let my eyes alight on the bar, slowly running them over the patrons seated there.

Jason had already seen me.

Sitting by himself, he was fiddling with his drink, twisted around on the stool so he could lean back against the bar. He was wearing leather pants tonight, black leather pants and a long sleeved top made of some sort of clinging material in deep red, leaving his stomach bare again. His hair was drawck ick into a loose ponytail, leaving wisps to fall around his face, which was decorated with dark cherry lipstick and too much eyeliner. And he was watching me, smiling, this little surprised but happy smile.

Oh, fuck. I was lost, completely lost. I didn't have to worry about my heart beating too fast now, as soon as I'd seen him it had stopped completely. He beckoned me over, and I felt as if an electric current had pulsed through my body, jolting me into action.

"Back again, Mr. Mathers?" His voice was inflected with the surprise I'd seen on his face as he watched me sit down besides him. "I wasn't expecting to see you again."

"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises," I replied lamely, watching as he ordered my drink, the same beer I'd had last night. "It was Jason, right?" I furrowed my brow, trying to pretend I didn't really remember who he was.

He smirked, seeing through the act straight away. At least he had the decency not to call me up on it. "Yeah, Jason," he affirmed, nodding his head. "Good show tonight."

I blinked, it was my turn to be surprised. "You came to the concert?"

"Yeah, don't sound so shocked. It actually wasn't as bad as I'd expected it to be."

"Don't *you* sound so shocked," I shot back, trying not to show how touched I was, how excited I was by the fact that while I'd bullshitted my way through the set, thinking of nothing but him, he'd been there, been right there in front of me. "I thought you hated my music."

Jason blushed, twirled his straw through his drink (vodka and orange again, I felt like we'd never left) "Yeah, but I'd never actually listened to it. The most attention I've paid your shit was thinking you were sexy in the film clip for 'Stan,' you know?"

I nodded, feeling that pulse of excitement go through me again. "Most dudes think it's Dido that's sexy in that clip," I muttered, dipping my head.

"Obviously I'm not most dudes, Mr. Mathers." Suddenly he pressed a pen into my hand, and a piece of paper. "I actually want your autograph tonight. I was angry at myself for wrecking it last night."

"Hey, don't worry about it," I said, flashing him a quick smile, "I ain't never had anyone use my autograph to wipe up beer before, it was the most useful I've ever felt." I scrawled my name on the paper, adding a little message, 'Jason's dishcloth, use in case of spilt beer.' Jason giggled when he read it, before lifting his hips off the seat for an instant so he could tuck it into his back pocket. I tried not to be too obvious about watching, hiding behind my beer and accidentally downing it all in one go.

"Drinking for a reason tonight, Mr. Mathers?" Jason asked as I stared at my empty glass in bemusement. I shook my head.

"Nah, I just..." I shrugged, setting the glass on the bar and looking at him. "Let me buy you a drink," I said, completely out of the blue, "And then you can stop calling me fucking Mr. Mathers. It's driving me insane."

Jason gave me an impossibly sweet smile. "What would you like me to call you, then?"

I shrugged. "Call me Marshall, like most people do." He nodded, then gave a little laugh. "What?"

"Most people don't call you Marshall," he said, his eyes sparkling.

"Oh really? What do they call me, then?"

Jason leant in real close, I had to battle to keep my breathing even. "They call you asshole," he said authoritatively, and sat back and grinned, looking incredibly pleased with himself. I couldn't help laugh, fuck he reminded me of a kid sometimes, playful as hell, stirring as much shit as possible, but all with a big grin on his face. But then there were times it felt like he was a hundred years older than I was, a hundred times more mature. Fucking strange.

"Brat," I said, shaking my head, "But you're right, you know."

"Yeah, I know. But as I said, I'm not like most people." He rested his chin in his hands, gazing up at me. "You're not either, Marshall, you know that?"

I echoed his pose, resting my chin in my hand and looking into his eyes. "I know it," I said softly, "But how do you know it? We only just met."

"It's strange, isn't it?" he mused, "I feel as if we've been friends for longer. I feel as if I'm really getting inside you." He frowned. "I'm not trying to hit on you, either, I just..."

"Don't worry about it," I interrupted, "I wouldn't mind if you were." I watched as his eyes widened, his mouth dropped open. I was marvelling at the softness of his cheek before I even realised I'd reached out and touched it, brushing my fingers down to his jaw line, trailing along it gently.

"Marshall?" Jason's voice was small, confused and hopeful, making my breath catch in my throat. What the fuck was I doing?

I snatched my hand away quickly and took a gulp of beer, trying to calm myself down, pretend it hadn't happened. I struggled for something to say that would make it go away, something that would set the boundaries.

"So...you working tonight?" I blurted out, looking away from him my face going as red as his hair. But he wasn't letting it go that easy.

"Marshall," he laid his hand on my knee, "What the fuck was that?"

"It was nothing," I snapped, "Fucking forget about it, ok?"

He looked at me coldly, taking his hand away and brushing his hair out of his face. "Yeah, 'cause you ain't a faggot, right? Even when you're chatting up boys in bars." His voice had lost all it's warmth, all its sweetness, and I couldn't blame him. I was fucked up, blowing hot and cold at him.

"I wasn't trying to chat you up," I started apologetically, "I didn't mean..."

"No, you forget it," he shook his head, "I wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable." His voice was practically dripping with sarcasm, and I winced, staring at the dirty bar-top. "Yeah, I'm working tonight, to answer your question. If I earn enough, I'll be able to buy my ticket back to London tomorrow."

"In such a rush to get out of here?"

Jason's eyes went dark, and a bitter smile twisted his lips. "Yeah. I found out you Americans aren't as friendly as I thought. Especially your priests." He paused to let that sink in, sipping at his drink. "I suddenly got homesick."

"What the fuck did he do to you?" I pictured the him and that priest, a thousand images flashing through my brain, all of them ending with Jason in tears. I was murderous, and I didn't even know what had happened yet.

Jason shrugged. "No worse then what I've had done to me before. He seemed to think I needed to be punished for his sins. He'd bought a whip especially for the occasion."

"Oh, Jason..." I wanted to touch him again, but I wasn't sure how he'd react. Instead I reached for my wallet, reached for the only thing I could give him. "Look, kid, I can't let you do that shit again tonight. How much money do you need? I'll give it to you. I don't want anything in return, I just can't stomach the thought..." I broke off, started pulling out notes.

"Marshall." I looked up, Jason was shaking his head at me, a little scowl on his face. "I'm not a charity case, I can't take that money."

"Please?" I begged, pushing it into his hand. I remembered what he'd said last night. 'Cause I'm such an innocent, remember? I don't wanna have to think about you off selling yourself. Not when I can stop it."

"So don't think about it," he replied, trying to give the money back, and when I wouldn't take it, setting it on the bar. "I don't see what the problem is."

I sighed in frustration. "That's just it. I can't stop thinking about you. You're stuck in my head, Jason, I don't know why, but you're...doin' something to me."

He froze, looking at me with big, startled eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno. I don't get it. I ain't gay, but I...I fuckin' wanna be with you." There, it was said, out in the open, and there was no taking it back. I held my breath, waiting to see how he'd react.

He reached out with a slender hand and laid it on the pile of notes resting on the bar. "The only way I can take this," he said quietly, "Is if you take me back to your hotel with you, ok? I am what I am. You're not charity, Marshall, and I know you want me." He shrugged. "I want you, too."

I looked away, anywhere but at him. "Can't you just take it? Can't you just take it and let me leave knowing you're safe?"

"I'm never safe," he replied, "Because of who I am. And if you leave me here with all that money, the bartender's going to get a rather large tip." He touched the back of my hand, traced my knuckles. "Marshall, you want to be with me. You said it yourself. Let it happen."

I shook my head violently, gesturing around at the people in the bar. "I can't be with you because of who *I* am, Jason. Fuck, what if it got out? What would it do to me?"

"I won't tell!" he said earnestly, "Come on, Marshall, you gotta know the prostitutes first commandment, thou shalt not rat on thou tricks." I let out a snort of laughter, and Jason smiled, encouraged. "I swear to you, it would never touch my lips."

"Yeah, but, I'd know," I said quietly, "I'd know I did it. I don't think I could handle that."

Jason looked impossibly hurt by that. "You really have that low an opinion of me?" he whispered, "You'd really be that ashamed to be with me?"

"No, Jason, it ain't you," I said quickly, "Shit, you think I've ever felt this way before? For a fucking guy? I don't know what to think, it's like everything I thought was real has turned out to be a sham. I can't trust my own feelings anymore."

"Well...." Jason said, hesitantly reaching out to take my hand. "I think I know how you feel."

"Oh yeah? I replied, letting him grasp my hand and softly stroke it. "How do I feel, then?"

"Let me tell you. You feel confused." I nodded, that was obvious. "You feel uncertain." I nodded again. "And the only thing you're sure of, is that you want to be with me tonight."
I felt my head nodding before I'd thought of a decent response, something in me responded that was far more basic and truthful than my own questioning and second-guessing thoughts.

"Yeah, ok, but..."

"No. No buts, Marshall. Just do what you want to for a change. Fuck your image, fuck your reputation. Just for tonight." He took my chin in his hands, made me look him in his achingly blue eyes. "Take me back with you. Be with me."

My breath caught in my throat, and I knew in that instant that I could never deny him anything, never tell this kid no. "Shit, Jason..."

"Please?"

I hesitated for a moment more, thinking of all the reasons why this was a really bad idea, a really bad, bad, fucked up idea. But then Jason ran his thumb over my lips, tracing them gently. And I knew I had to have him, and *fuck* the consequences.

He let me choose the hotel and I skipped mine, went for one on the other side of the city, miles away from bribed doormen and security guards. We drove past a suitably swanky one and got out of the cab. Checked in under a false name, tried to look cool while silently praying no-one would recognise me. Going into a hotel room with another man.

The door hadn't even closed behind us and he was fumbling for his shirt. I put a hand on his shoulder.

'Isn't it a little early?' My skin crawled from the outside in. I realised right then what he was.
He shrugged at me and let his hands drop to his sides. 'I was thinking you might…' my mouth went dry. 'Stay.'

I could see his eyebrows lift. And in that second I wanted to hold him. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to get it through his head. He wasn't just a body, he wasn't just a hole, he was a man and I wanted all of him.

I pulled him towards me and he grinned, a little giggle escaping his lips. I just looked at him for a second, took him all in. There weren't many lights on, just the lamps on either side of the couch, light from the bedroom through the door, and out the window, the bright city beaming through the blinds.

His skin gave off light. His hair entwined around his features. He was frailty and purity in my arms and all I wanted was to erase his past. Make him a little less bitter. Care for him. Show him he could be loved.

All this I felt in a split second. All this I felt having never felt it for another person. All the blondes with an IQ of 10, all the record producers and all the music fools. None of them came anywhere near to this boy. To this angel whore.

He stared right into my eyes and I kissed him. He was rough, more solid than a woman. I could taste the tang of vodka on his tongue. He ran it over mine and I thought I would die right there. He threw his arms over my shoulders and pressed himself into me. I could feel he was bulging, it was sort of rubbing on my thighs. I lost my breath at the touch of it, the touch of another man's cock on my leg. It was shocking, it was terrifying, and it was beautiful.
He tugged me into the room a little more, probed my mouth, pulled and twisted at my tongue. And I loved it, loved the taste of him and the feeling of his skin on mine, his smell. I reached up, pulled his hair out of it's pony tail and pulled back to watch it fall down over his shoulders.

We made hesitant steps towards the bedroom. My stomach was churning, my mouth was dry except for where his tongue had been. I wondered to myself if I could do it, if I could go through with it. And then I looked up at him and knew I could, knew I would just for him.
He pushed open the door and there were more lamps, casting shadows over the wardrobe and the TV in the corner of the room. I could hear cars below the window, thinking briefly of the highway we drove to get here.
And then he kissed me again.

I pushed him down onto the bed, rolled on top of him, pushed his shoulders under my arms until I was holding him. I kissed him still, sort of afraid of doing anything else. He ran his hands up my sides and it felt good. Different, more forceful. More delicate. A total contradiction. His hands pressed through my T shirt and I got a shiver. He worked them underneath onto my skin and I thought I would melt into his touch. He started moving down toward my ass and I gulped, tried not to panic. I thought he would slap me, scratch me, hurt me. But he didn't. He caressed, rubbed, through my pants. I started pulsing, felt the blood rush to my loins. Felt the need for this boy, for this man, growing.

Suddenly I understood. It was more about him. It was all about him and not about his cock. Not about his hands or his voice or his skin. It was about Jason. Gender didn't matter. Nothing really mattered so long as he touched me like that.

I rolled him over, was feeling adventurous, and tossed my shirt off. He sat up almost immediately, pushed his head into my chest. He licked my nipples, played with them between his teeth. Massaged my stomach and back. I held onto his shoulders, sinking into him, the pulling sending pleasure coursing through me, right down to the tip of my shaft. Right into my cock.
He started fiddling with my buckle and I stopped him. Slowly I reached down his stomach, pulled at the hem of his top. He crossed his hands over his stomach.
'You shy?' I asked, incredulous. He looked up at me, his beautiful big eyes hurt and confused and wanting. I almost stopped.

He was blushing when his top hit the floor. I knelt down again and was about to put my arms around his back when he pulled away, scuttled over to the other side of the bed. I just watched, totally confused. I was the one who was s'posed to be hesitant.
He smiled, weakly. I just stared at him. His smile faded.

He shrugged his shoulders.
'Flagellation. Big part of religious practices.' I pulled him back towards me, stretched him over my lap. His chin rested on my thigh as I stared down at him. I probably gasped.
I didn't count the welts, didn't want to know. Easily more than I wanted to see. Red, and some still weeping, bruised and black. I released my grip on him and he sat straight back up again.

And I wanted to save him. I wanted to stop the pain.
I kissed him.

He pushed himself onto me again and my head finally hit pillow. I felt him move down my body and didn't even realise until my pants slipped off my knees. Suddenly I panicked. I looked up wildly, searching for him. He was at my toes, watching me. He put a finger to his lips.
'I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to.' He whispered, staring right into my eyes. I lay back down, felt his fingers under my boxers, felt my skin shiver.

For a moment there was only cold. I held my breath.
His lips eased their way onto the head of my cock. I groaned, couldn't keep it inside. He slid down, perched above my legs, easing it into his mouth. I grasped the bed sheets, bunching them up into my hands. It felt incredible, better than ever before.
He pushed down further and I started to gasp. He was almost at the base and I writhed. He held my hips down and I was desperate to thrust, just a little, just enough to satisfy the burning need in my belly.

And that was it. The end of my life as a straight man.

He released my hips and almost immediately I bucked up into his mouth, loving the feeling of his moist, warm mouth all over my hot cock. I gasped, moaned, thrust again. It felt so good, so incredible. He began to bob up and down on it and I swear to God I could hear him hum. I grabbed his head with one hand, kept the other firmly planted on the sheets. I moaned again, threw my head back at the pillows and gasped.

I wanted him more than ever. I wanted ever ounce of him, I wanted every cell. The pleasure that was coursing through me was so great, so thrilling and so much. I could feel that I wouldn't last much longer. My moans got more desperate, my breath came faster and faster. I was panting, bunching the sheets in my hands tighter and tighter, desperate for some sort of release.

And then I felt it, felt the surge of excitement running through me. I gasped
'Oh Shit, Jase! This is it, man. Oh….' I lost my breath. I glanced down, watched his beautiful mop of hair bouncing up and down on my lap.
I rested my head back down again, squirmed underneath him.

And then it stopped. He let go of my cock, let it fall out of his mouth to the open air where it was cold. My head shot back off the pillow. I was about to give him a serve when I saw just what he was doing, and all I could do was groan.

He was easing himself out of his pants, pushing them down over his hips, his erect cock springing out. I wanted it, right then and there. I wanted to lean over and suck it all up.
He leant forward a little, put his hand on my chest and forced me back onto the bed.
I tried to control my breathing, and was almost succeeding. Until he straddled my chest, his cock resting on my belly, hot and pulsing. I watched it, lusting and fascinated.

He ran his fingers lightly over the head.
'Do you know…' he whispered, between gulps of air 'Just how sexy that was to watch, Shady?' He grinned, my stage name coming from nowhere. I had to smile, turned on and flattered all at once.

His grip tightened on his cock and I saw the end turn red, then a darker shade, almost purple. I'd only seen a cock do that once, and it was when I jerked off in front of the mirror.
But this was different.

He was moaning, bucking on my chest, throwing his hair around. He was truly beautiful right there, his face squished up in ecstasy, his body writhing right on top of mine.
And I knew then I had to have him. Knew right then I wanted this piece of beautiful ass.

I rolled over and he sprawled out beside me, just a little shocked. It wasn't hard, he weighed barely anything at all.

I pulled his legs apart and he stopped me, his hand raised again to my chest.
'Wait, wait.' He gasped, before sitting up. I knelt there, kept still, wondering if I'd done something wrong. I heard him rustling around, his pants, and within seconds he was beside me again, two little sachets in his hand. He waved one in front of my eyes. 'Condom.' He waved the other. 'Lube.' He grinned. 'Your new best friends.'

I grabbed them from him and threw him back down on the bed. I thought I heard him whimper when he hit the mattress. I ripped open the condom packet, hurriedly slipped it on before my dream ended.
I grabbed his legs by the ankles, slipped them open again. I was about to pull him towards me when I stopped. And just looked at him for a moment. He was truly beautiful, all open and ready for me. All waiting just for my hot cock to pound into that flesh of his.

I couldn't wait much longer, couldn't ignore the pulsing and the ache. I could tell he wanted it, I could tell he was desperate for me to split him in two.

I smothered my cock in lube, before adding some to his ass as an after thought. He squirmed, giggled a little, and then whefeltfelt the rim he stopped laughing and gasped. I liked that. I liked to hear him gasp.

Then I pulled him towards me, heard him gasp in shock. I put his legs around my waist and he held me there, with a tight grip.
'You want it, cocksucker?' I couldn't help it. 'You want it, ya little fag?' He nodded desperately, could feel the top of my shaft just out of reach of his ass, could feel it bumping the skin right near his hole. I wanted to torture him. To make it better for when I finally slipped all the way in.

I surged forward, fucking him hard and fast. He gasped, screamed out loud, as I filled him up, right up to the top. A moan escaped my lips, the sensation of that tight ass on my cock unbelievable. It was hotter than any pussy I'd ever felt. It was tighter. Every move he made I could feel in my cock. Every pulse of his muscles echoed down the barrel of my shaft.
It was exquisite.

Neither of us were going to last long.

I started to pull out, felt his tight ass squeezing me, milking me. I almost let the head fall out, before pushing it right back in again, to the hilt. Jase groaned below me, tried to squirm. His brow furrowed. 'Yes..' He gasped. 'Jesus…yes.' I sighed, pulled out again and thrust harder.
I began to get a rhythm, began to thrust in perfect time, nailed his hot little butt to the bed. It was the best feeling, the most incredible feeling. I sped up, desperate to come, desperate to shoot in him. He thrashed beneath me, his hand reaching for his cock and pumping desperately. I watched, hypnotised. I gasped as a tiny dot of precome oozed out of the head. I knew he was close by the noises he was making, by how desperately he moved. And I wanted to come, too.

I fucked him hard, harder than any woman, harder than anyone else. So hard I could feel his muscles shuddering. So hard my thighs ached. So hard his breath caught in his throat. So hard I thought I'd explode.

I felt it racing towards me and this time I let it happen. I moaned, groaned, gasped, let words spew out of me. Jason joined in, his moans becoming wails and eventually screams of pleasure.
In what felt like the greatest moment of my life, I came. Right up inside him, right up into his ass. Two seconds later he came too, and I watched his come spurt out of his cock, onto his hand, and up to his chest.
And then I licked it off.

We curled up together, naked, on that very bed. His beautiful body wrapped around mine so perfectly, so wonderfully, I couldn't dream of letting him go. I wanted to keep him safe. I wanted to save him from hurt and desperation. And if I couldn't do it forever, then just for tonight
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Whispers