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Just For Tonight	By : mynx Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Eminem/Marshall Mathers Views: 2163 -:- 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
- 5
- 6
Trent had to laugh. Eminem may not have looked enthusiastic, but he didn’t have to; his words were enough. “Yes, but first—“ He bent down, giving Eminem a teasing glimpse of his ass before slinking onto the bed, tossing the lotion beside them, along with a little square-shaped packet.

“A condom?” Eminem laughed, not noticing the way Trent was arranging himself between his legs. “I didn’t think you fucking cared.”

“Of course I do,” Trent smirked, stifling a snicker when Eminem realized just where he was seated. “Besides, how should I know who you’ve fucked with?”

Eminem frowned heavily. “Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t gay?”

Laughing, Trent then leaned forward and met him nose to nose. “Didn’t say you were this time, now did I?” He watched as Eminem’s glower transformed once he got a hold of his cock and slowly pumped it, his eyes slanting, his mouth open and breathing in hitched gasps. “Oh yeah, you want this…” He swallowed whatever reply Eminem uttered by catching his lips, nipping a teasing line along his upper lip as he liberally poured the lotion into his open hand. A guttural moan emptied into Eminem’s mouth as the man reached into his charcoal mane and fisted his locks once again, rendering Trent unable to keep in check. With a super slick finger, he teased through Eminem’s crack, feeling the other man shudder and ultimately pull away from the kiss. A bit disappointed, he nevertheless lifted a hand to comfortingly stroke his shorn blonde hair. “Relax, Marshall.”

Another abrupt and uneasy laugh, eyes looking everywhere else except at Trent. “Yeah, easy for you to say, you’ve done this before.” As though his courage were returning, he turned his gaze toward Trent, tiny crinkles appearing in the corners of his baby blues. “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Trent smiled, knowing that the first time is always the most nerve-wracking. “Just relax. And feel. Let me know if it hurts, and if it’s too much.” Unable to help himself, Trent stole another kiss from those rose-ripe lips. “Okay?”

He studied Eminem’s face, his expressions and movements as he finally probed his entrance, lifting a brow as though he were asking if it was all right to continue. At Eminem’s nod, he buried his finger up to the second knuckle, quietly moaning at the heat. “Fuck…” Through tendrils of his own dark hair, he watched Eminem as he invaded and prepared him with a second finger, his emotions ranging from surprise to anxiety to peaceful acceptance. He watched as his eyes slipped to a close, a moan unlike any he’d ever heard pushed out of his mouth as his hips subtly lifted into the sensation of his scissoring fingers.

“Holy shi…” A broken gasp interrupting when his prostate was nudged. “Shit…”

Trent nuzzled his cheek and whispered, “Ready?”

Eminem made a sound that was somewhere between a whimper and a scoff. “Just go for it.”

Trent grinned at his reply and sat himself upright. “If you say so.” With that, he took the foil packet and broke the seal, then slowly rolled the condom over his cock, which was practically pulsing with need. Trent controlled himself from going any further than just putting it on, and took the lotion again and lubricated himself with it. It was water-based, so it would dry quickly, but at least it wouldn’t cause either of them any pain.

When Trent chanced to glance at Eminem was when he realized that he’d been watching the entire time, eyes trained on his length with a hungry fascination. He felt himself blushing, something he hadn’t done in years, and averted Eminem’s gaze before he caught it, placing the tip of his cock at his entrance. “I promise, I’ll make this good.” He hooked Eminem’s legs over his shoulders, gaze skimming over the other man’s build, but not directly at his face. “It’s the least I could do.”

Eyes slanting at Trent, he retorted, “No, the least you could do—ahhh fff…”

As Trent gradually sank himself to the hilt, he dared to gaze upon Eminem’s face and smiled, thinking the reaction of the man underneath him so oddly beautiful and natural. His eyes screwed shut, body lifting off the mattress, fingers curling around the bedsheets, his bottom lip gnawed by a row of milk white teeth, preventing any slurs and curses from escaping his filthy mouth.

He was so captivating like this.

Slowly, Trent dipped his head to steal yet another kiss from those pink, beestung lips; lips that no one in their right mind could resist. “You okay?”

Shaking his head, he muttered, “This shit hurts, man.”

Their foreheads met, and Trent chuckled. “Give it time.” He rolled his hips once, twice, trying to gauge any type of reaction other than a painful wince. “Just relax.” He kissed him reassuringly. “Push out, push against me.” Quietly, Trent nuzzled a trail up a column of his neck, blowing in his ear and nipping at the lobe as he felt Eminem adjust to his size, his body tensing with nervousness and anticipation. He allowed Eminem’s legs to slide off his shoulders so he could touch every inch of his skin unhindered. Moving with a quiet grace, Trent lengthened his thrusts, trying to drive deeper into the tight heat that was Eminem.

“Fuck!” The word came out as a startled gasp, and Trent slowed down, only to receive a head shake. “No, no, keep goin’…fuck…” Eminem’s hands crawled up Trent’s arms and gripped his shoulders, legs hanging limply in mid-air as Trent fucked him. “Fuckfuckfuck…”

The words tumbled out of his mouth, so wanton and filled with desire, that Trent had to kiss him again, and again and again, his animal instincts taking over as his thrusts increased in pace, became harder and deeper. He was so tight, so willing, so unlike the man he’d met only hours before.

“Oh, FUCK!”

Endless bickering and detailed preparations had finally culminated to this moment, when Trent had him completely at his mercy. Panting, and sweating, and begging for more. He drew in a hissing breath as Eminem’s fingernails sank into his shoulders, hips moving purely out of violent need, and he wrapped fingers around his neglected cock and began working it with firm strokes. “M-Marshall…” he said in between hoarse breaths, amazed at the reaction that one word could prompt.

“FUCK! Oh fuckfuck right there, yeah…”

His lashes weighing heavily upon his eyelids had to be the most breathtaking sight Trent had ever witnessed – not that he would confess that to anyone. It drove him go faster. Harder. Deeper. His hand mimicked the movement of his hips, and he groaned when Eminem’s fingers twined into his hair once more and he yanked him into a kiss, hot and fierce and unrelenting. Trent felt legs loosely wind around his waist, which he interpreted as encouragement, and continued slamming into the vise-like grip around his cock, their flesh slapping together loudly, bedsprings creaking under their weight. He nipped every inch of his lips as he felt the beginnings of orgasm drawing closer. “Fuck, Marshall…!”

Eminem shook his head so quickly, it was as though it’d vibrated instead. “No, don’t stop, not—ahh shit!” His hand quickly joined Trent’s in jerking his cock, moans rising from deep within his throat. Expression contorted into that which Trent could only call ‘pained ecstasy’, Eminem uttered a harsh, continuous groan as his seed spilled over their closed fists, droplets rolling down their skin and onto Eminem’s clenched stomach.

Out of impulse, Eminem’s hips kept moving, the compression of his walls around Trent’s cock simply too much to bear. With a low, keening moan, Trent released, feeling as though a taut spring had uncoiled inside him. He continued thrusting, nonetheless, riding out the effects of his orgasm until he was completely exhausted, and he slowly pulled out of Eminem and collapsed beside him with a lazy flop. His body twitched and reeled from the aftershocks, mind foggy and mouth dry, and he stayed that way for an endless string of minutes until he heard the man beside him mutter something. “Mmm?”

“I was sayin’…” Eminem repeated himself between soft, winded breaths. “How the fuck am I supposed to clean this up, man?” He motioned tiredly to his stomach and groin, where the contents of his release still remained.

Trent groaned tiredly as he forced himself up, then descended upon his cock mouth first, unsure if all the whispered grunts were genuinely from Eminem or just his weary imagination. When he was done, Trent then rolled the condom off his cock and, being too drained to get up and find the garbage, simply dropped it on the nightstand, next to the bottle of lotion he had used earlier.

“You’re fucking picking that up when you leave,” Eminem muttered, by now having regained his normal breathing pattern. He eased himself onto his side and groaned quietly. “Damn…”

“Damn is right,” Trent conceded, arm draped over his forehead as he stared listlessly at the ceiling. “I really needed that.”

“That was…” Eyes closing as he shivered at the memory, he murmured, “That was, I can’t even begin to describe, man.”

Trent snorted, “So you liked it, then.”

“Fuck yeah, I loved it.” Sniffing, he added, “Just don’t tell anyone or I’ll fucking kill you.”

Trent managed a laugh this time. “Afraid it’ll ruined your reputation?”

“Huh?” Eminem raised his head, brow furrowed, and shook it. “I don’t fucking care about that. You know, that whole woman-hating, anti-gay bullshit - that’s all Slim talkin’. I don’t hate ‘em at all.” Lips then pursing, he muttered, “Except bitches. I fucking hate bitches.”

Rolling his eyes, Trent moved his head in Eminem’s direction. “Didn’t you just say you weren’t a misogynist?”

“I ain’t.”

“But-“

“I’ll be nice to women,” Eminem interrupted. “I just won’t fuckin’ stick around them.” His voice carried a hint of sadness. ”They’re all the same.”

Trent rested his eyes on Eminem in quiet contemplation. “You’ve been burned pretty bad, huh?”

It was Eminem’s turn to laugh. “You really don’t listen to my music, do you?”

Trent chuckled, “Not really.”

Sighing, Eminem said, “Well I ain’t gonna run down my life story for you, so you’ll have to look it up on the inet net or something.”

“The internet?” Trent tried to prop himself up on his elbows, but his limbs decided against it, and so he stayed on his back, gaze narrowed at the other man. “Don’t you get tired of having your private life being out in the open like that? I’d go fucking nuts.”

“Of course I do,” Eminem admitted, “But I can’t do nothin’ about it now, so I might as well give them all of me. Besides, it ain't so bad if I can let other people know that the crap they go through isn't any different from what other people go through every day. ”

“I see.” Trent nodded in understanding, and smiled. “That’s very admirable.”

Eminem shrugged, “Whatever.”

Trent’s smile soon turned into a playful smirk. “So would you deny being gay?”

Seemingly annoyed, but too tired to raise his voice, he said, “How many times do I gotta tell you, I’m not gay.” Shaking his head, he added, “I just happen to like you.”

Trent blinked, genuinely astonished at the earnest reply. “You do?”

“Yeah. That’s another thing.” Eminem shifted closer toward Trent, and placed a feather light kiss on his pouted lips. “I always say what’s on my mind. If the media cares so much where I put my dick, well they can have at it, ‘cause I don’t hide nothin’ from nobody.”

“Really…” Trent felt his breath evade him when he tried to inhale, and quickly covered it up with a smile. “That’s quite brave, considering…”

“Considering?”

“Well, everything you’d have at stake if people found out about us. Your reputation, your fans, your family…” He shrugged again. “I could fucking care less, but your following’s a bit more…close-minded than mine.”

Eminem’s soft laughter made him shiver for reasons unknown. “True that. But if that’s the way they are, well, fuck ‘em. I love my fans, but I deserve to have my fun, don’t I?”

He nodded in assent. “Of course.”

Affectionately nuzzling the corner of his mouth, Eminem whispered, “So what now?”

“What now?” Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, Trent pulled away from him and made a grab for the linen sheets. “We sleep.”

“Oh…” Eminem’s features were faintly etched with disappointment. “And then?”

“And then,” Trent pulled the blanket up to his chin and turned his back to Eminem, adding, “We’ll wake up.”

“No, that’s not…I mean…” Eminem heaved a sigh. ”God, what the fuck did we just do...”

“I believe the term is a one night stand,” came a mumbled reply.

“So does this mean I won’t be seeing you till the next awards show? Or ever again?”

A yawn. “Who knows?”

Obviously irritated, Eminem said, “No, I want a straight answer.”

A pause. “A straight answer?”

“Fuck yeah, I’d like to think I’ve given you plenty.”

“All right.” Another yawn, followed by a deeper burial under the blanket. “Well, I doubt we’d be hanging out at the Whiskey. Not that I’d be caught dead there anyway.”

“No?” His voice turned surprisingly gentle and coaxing. “You should really get out more.”

A careless mutter. “I’d rather work in my studio.”

“Fun.”

“It is for me.”

Before Trent knew it, he felt the blankets yanked off his body, and he turned to face a very upset Eminem. “Look, I wanna know if this is gonna go anywhere.”

He sat up to meet his gaze. “What is?”

“Us.”

“Didn’t I tell you this was a one night stand?”

“You don’t believe that.”

Trent found himself scowling at the man who’d given him unimaginable pleasure. “Who the fuck are you to tell me what I believe?”

Eminem shook his head. “You can’t tell me you don’t want more.”

“Why, do you?”

“Fuck yeah.”

So taken aback was Trent that he could only fill the space between them with uneasy silence. There was something strange and unnatural about this being, whom caused him to believe that he was so important that one night of his company wasn’t enough. “...Well…”

“Well?” His eyes were wide and expecting.

He had been fighting urges the entire evening, but this time Trent complied with them, and pulled Eminem into his arms as he laid them down again. “I liked it, too, but to be honest, I don’t know if we could go anywhere with this.”

Eminem stared into his eyes with the same expectant gaze. “You don’t think we’d last?”

“What I’m saying is, I can’t guarantee anything.” Biting his lip, Trent added, “So would you rather take this one day at a time?”

A soft chuckle. “You say that right after we fucked?”

He smirked, “Got any better ideas, punk?”

“Heh, all right.” Eminem pulled the sheets up and over their tangled forms. “One day at a time it is, then.’

Trent smiled. “Good.” He gave into nuzzling along Eminem’s jawline, then glanced at him through his lashes. “You know, you’re a lot more coherent when you’re trying not to be some OG from Detroit.”

“Didn’t I tell you that was all an act?”

Trent nodded, “And I’m glad it is; otherwise I wouldn’t be able to stand you.”

With a tired snicker, Eminem nodded in agreement. “Hell, sometimes I can’t even stand myself.”

“I’m not surprised,” Trent replied, the sarcasm apparent.

Eminem jabbed him with a playful poke to the belly. “Yeah, so feel special that you’re in the company of the real thing.”

Though his voice was pleasantly calm, Trent rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Oh, stop flattering yourself and go to sleep, you little prick.”

“Fine,” Eminem said, a soft, heartfelt laughter ringing in his tone, and he arched his back as he yawned. “Night, fag-“ He stopped himself just in time, nearly blushing in embarrassment at Trent’s admonishing gaze. “Sorry…”

Trent relaxed his features into a tired smirk. “It’s okay. After all, a guy like you has a lot at stake when it comes to his image.”

“Except right now, I’m not an image.” Eminem touched his cheek with the tips of his fingers, and traced the outline of his mouth. “It’s a bad word, and you don’t deserve to hear it from me, or anyone else.” He claimed Trent’s lips in an unexpectedly tender kiss, as though he were made of fine glass, then retreated and curled up into a loose ball, eyes closing. “Good night, Trent.”

Something inside Trent was set off at the touch of those lips. He wasn’t sure why, but whatever it was kept him awake until he felt Eminem’s body go limp with sleep. Licking his lips, he took one last, longing look at him, his face so youthful and relaxed in slumber, and pressed a tiny kiss to his forehead before succumbing to the heavenly arms of sleep. “’Night…Marshall.”

end.
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Just For Tonight