Whispers

I dreamt that night. Dreamt Jason and me were on a train, racing away from these people who wanted to hurt us. We'd been scared, but once we were on that train, we knew we'd be safe, knew nothing could touch us. As we sat together and gazed out the window, watching the world spin past us, I understood what it meant to be free. I understood what it meant to be happy.

But like all dreams, it didn't last. I woke up at around three in the morning, watched Jason's sleeping face, pressed tightly into my shoulder. He looked younger when he was sleeping, and I reminded myself that he really was just a kid, just eighteen years old. So pure in a lot of ways, really. So pristine. But then he rolled onto his stomach, and I saw the moonlight shining down on the welts crossing his back. He wasn't pure at all. He was tainted in so many ways, so scarred by the world. And more bitter than I'd ever be.

I liked to think I knew a lot about the world, especially the fucked up side of it. I like to bullshit a lot in my songs about how screwed up this place is. But next to Jason, I didn't know shit. I traced the marks on his back, my fingers lightly skimming over the hurt skin. He'd let that happen willingly. It had happened before. Every night he saw the sleazy, corrupt, sick side of the world. Every night he became part of that side of it, lived it, was abused by it, and, no doubt, abused it himself. I wondered if he even remembered the light anymore, the good things about living, the innocent pleasures. I wondered if he even knew how to just take without expecting to give up something in return.

I found myself wanting to show him that was possible. I wanted to give him something, give him a part of myself. Give the part of me that I thought I'd keep forever, the part of me that I'd *never* expected to give up. It was only fair. He gave of himself every night, with every trick. Even with me.

And now I wanted to even the score. Now I wanted to give him something back.

I bent over him, brushing his long sweep of curls to one side so I could get at the back of his neck and kiss him there, sucking on his skin lightly. Then I moved down his back, covering him in kisses, trailing along his wounds with my tongue, tasting sweat and sex and the faintest coppery trace of blood. I wished my touch contained some kind of healing properties, if I could wave my hand and make it all better for this kid, I would. But I was dreaming. The only thing I could do for this kid was what I was already doin'...give myself to him.

He woke up when I was still busy kissing and sucking my way down his spine, arching under me enticingly and letting out a soft, surprised moan. "Marshall?" he murmured, and God the sound of my name on his lips, soaked in his accent, was enough to drive me wild. "What are you doing?"

"Relax," I murmured into his skin, "You're so fuckin' hot...I couldn't resist..." He settled back into the mattress, whimpering softly when I reached his lower back, just above his ass. "You like that, baby?" I whispered, grinning as he buried his face in the pillow to muffle his moans.

"Oh lord yes..." he breathed, his body writhing sensuously on the white sheet, "Don't stop..." The thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I wanted more of him, *all* of him.

I rolled him over, pushing him onto his back and kneeling up between his legs, just gazing at him in wonder. Jason layead ead out before me like a feast, head thrown back, chest thrust up, legs fallen wide open. Lifting up one of his legs and starting at his ankle, I repeated the process I'd begun on his back, devouring him inch by inch. When I reached his inner knee, however, he pulled away, a look of panic in his eyes. "What is it, baby?"

"Tickles," he gasped, "I go crahen hen people touch behind my knees."

"I didn't pick you to be the ticklish sort," I grinned, my fingers creeping straight back to the sensitive spot. He sat up quickly and wrapped his leg around my waist.

"Just get on with it, Shady," he said, and again, the use of my stage name sent a little thrill running through my body. With a soft growl, I pushed him back down and settled myself between his legs, resuming my exploration of his body.

His thighs were beautiful, slender but harder than any woman's, slim and tough, and smooth to the touch. The moonlight made them gleam like mother-of-pearl, accentuating the subtle curves of his muscle enticingly. Again I dived down, tracing a road map with my tongue, tasting every inch of flesh. I took my time, wanting to imprint him in my memory, every cell, every molecule of him. Slowly, my tongue swept up his left thigh, dipped into that luscious line where his leg met his torso, swerved in to skim over his lower stomach, fell again to taste his soft, dark red pubic hair. Jason was making these little mewling sounds, pushing up against me, running one hand through my hair. "M-Marshall..." he groaned, his voice dripping with need. I merely smiled up at him and found his sharp hipbone, sucking it, licking into the deep hollow of his belly. "Marshall, please! I'm going insane!"

"Tell me what you want," I murmured, "Tell me what I can do for you, baby."
h, fh, fuck..." The hand in my hair became more insistent, pushing me towards his cock. "Please, you gotta...you gotta suck me, oh Jesus..." I flicked my eyes up at his face, it was so desperate, so intense. "Come on, please," he begged, and, like always, I couldn't say no.

His cock was already hard, long and arched against his belly, leaving a few thick, pearly drops of pre-come glistening on his skin. I licked him clean first, getting used to the taste, getting used to the idea of what I was about to do. And I liked it. It was salty and it was him, concentrated right down. It was his essence and I drank it up.

For a second I didn't think I could do it. Didn't think I could lower my head anke hke him all in. Didn't think I could wrap my lips around him and savour it. Bob up and down on his beautiful shaft.

I counted to three. It worked when I was 10, it would have to work now. I hit one and tried to stop shaking. I hit two and wet my lips. I got to three and my heart was beating too fast to be healthy. I stole one last glance at him, his beautiful body and his beautiful face.

And then I sucked him in.

I can't describe the sound he made in that instant, the low, wild, primal sound of pure pleasure that escaped from his lips. But I knew I needed to hear it again and again, needed to wrench that noise from him as often as humanly possible.

"God...Marshall, that feels so fucking good..." His hand gripped my hair roughly, pushing me down onto his cock, making me swallow him whole. My gag reflex tried to kick in, but I wouldn't let it. I *would* do this for him, I *would* give him this, and more. Whatever he wanted. I slipped my hands up his smooth sides, ran them over his chest and found his small nipples, pinching them until they were hard little nubs beneath my fingers, all the while sucking, licking, working his cock with my mouth. He pushed into the touch, frantically writhing under me, overcome by sensation. And I still wanted to make it better, wanted to drive him insane with pleasure. My gift to him.

I grazed my teeth gently over the underside of his cock, soothed it with my tongue, slipped my lips all the way up until I was sucking hard on just the head, then swallowed him back down. I got creative, tried to do what I knew felt good on my own cock, tried to remember every blow job I'd ever been given, and make this one even more intense. I gave a little hum, like he'd done to me earlier, took him deep and fucking hummed to him, feeling the vibrations go into his cock. I was immediately rewarded with a sharp gasp, those fingers pulling at my hair almost viciously.

"Fuck, fuck...I'm gonna come, Marshall..." He was making those mewling sounds again, his breath hitching in his throat, and I could *feel* that he was close, feel the pulsing in that hot, hard cock that was currently buried half way down my throat.

But I wasn't done with him yet.

Slowly, I let my lips slide off, left him with one last lick and sat up, grinning. "Marshall! Come on, you bastard, finish it!" Jason looked at me in dismay, panting, his hair wet with sweat and sticking to his neck in loose curls, his lips open and trembling. Jesus, he'd never looked so beautiful.

"I'm gonna finish it," I whispered, "I just ain't finishing it like that."

He shot me quick smile, little more than a sensuous twist of his lips, and spread his legs a little further. "You gonna fuck me?"

It was tempting, I'll admit that. So tempting, the idea of once again sinking my cock in that tight heat, burying myself to the hilt in Jason's body, immersing myself in him. I stroked one finger up his thigh, towards his ass, watching the expression on his face. He wanted it. I wanted it. But there was something else I knew we both wanted even more.

"No," I replied, settling my knees on either side of his hips and my elbows on either side of his head, pressing my forehead to his.

"No?"

"No. I want you to fuck me, Jason. I wanna know what it feels like to have you inside me." I licked at his full lips, felt them open and his own tongue come out to meet mine.

"You serious?" He sounded surprised and hopeful and painfully turned on all at once, I could see his eyes, glittering in the moonlight, had gone wide.

I nodded, kissed him again. "Fuck yeah. I want you. I want to give this to you." We kissed for a while, devouring each others mouths, before Jason pulled away, looking at me a bit quizzically.

"Why? Why do you wanna do this?"

I paused, sitting up. "I dunno. Do I need a reason? I want to, that's all. I want to...give something back to you. I wanna make it good for you, like you did for me."

"You don't owe me nothing, Marshall," Jason's words were harsher than his tone, he spoke softly and took my hand in his, "I don't deserve anything from you."

I leant back down, put my lips real close to his. "I don't care. Fuck me anyway," I whispered, "Don't think. Just do it. Ain't that what you told me?"

Jason's arms snaked up my back, softly caressing my skin. "Yeah, I guess," he murmured, "You got me there."

"So, you want me?" I pressed my crotch down to meet his, pushing our erections together. I never thought another mans cock against my own would *ever* feel that good.

Jason's voice was a breathless whisper. "You really need me to answer that?" His hands stroked my skin, running all over my body as if he were reading Braille, as if my excitement and lust were etched into my skin to be picked up by his questing fingertips.

"Tell me you'll do it," I gasped, still pushing down into him, "Say you'll fuck me."

"Oh, I'm gonna fuck you, Shady," his voice had turned just a little harsh, and the slight change turned me on that much more, "I'm gonna fuck you hard and deep and you are gonna feel so good..."

I think I almost came when he said that, I let out a sharp gasp and collapsed over him, breathing hard. His searching fingers found my ass, rubbing it hard, trailing down my crack. "Shit, Jason..."

"Roll over," he commanded suddenly, pushing at my chest, "Lie down," I slid off him, sinking into the mattress and gazing up at him, at this boy who I trusted enough to lose my virginity to. I tried to figure out what it was about him that made me need this so bad, but had to give up. It wasn't any one thing. It wasn't something I could put my finger on. It was just him. I was drawn to him like a magnet, and I could barely imagine a moment in my life when I hadn't been aching for his touch.

"Jason..." I whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek as he knelt over me, "I thi.I t.I think I'm..."

"Shhh, Marshall," he soothed, taking my hand and kissing it, "Don't think for the moment. Just feel." He reached down for his pants again and took out another two little packets, tossing them on the bed besides my hip.

"My two best friends," I said, grinning a bit weakly. The sight of the condom had jolted me into this weird sense of awareness; I was actually gonna do it. I was going to be fucked by a guy. It was happening, and there was no way I was gonna stop it now. Panicking a bit like before, I reached for him, pulling him down into a tight hug. "Oh, fuck, what am I doing?" I moaned, burying my face in his neck.

Jason kissed me, gentle and sweet now, soft, feather light kisses all over my face. "Marshall, sweetheart, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. You know that. But I think you do want to, don't you?"

I nodded, unable to speak, too afraid that if I said it one more time the fantasy around me would shatter, fall down on me like a million shards of glass. So I responded without words, grabbing his hand and guiding it in between my thighs, wrapping my legs tight around his waist.

Jason took it slow, sensing the strain of fear mixed in with all the arousal shooting through me. He kissed me, stroked me, pumped my cock until it was dripping for him, then sat up and tore open the condom, sliding it down his shaft. "You're so fucking sexy, baby," he whispered, trying to distract me, "So hot. God, you turn me on so much, just lying there, waiting for me..." He tugged on my arm, rolling me over onto my stomach, and kept talking as bent over me, nuzzling at my lower back, then my ass, "Your body is just so perfect, tight and hard and smooth all at once. Oh, Jesus, you don't know how much I want you right now, Marshall," His hot tongue flicked out, lapping at the crack of my ass, delicately pushing it in further. I could barely move, could barely *breath* as it touched the rim of my hole, probing it, licking over it in lonrokerokes.

"Oh god that feels good," I groaned, not quite believing the intense pleasure such a simple act could generate. Jason raised his head, his long curls sweeping over my thighs and ass.

"I know," he whispers, "Can you take more?"

"Christ yes."

At that, I felt something harder then his tongue pressing against my opening, his slicked finger pushing into me, opening me up. I didn't know how to take it, at first, I'd never felt anything so intrusive, never felt so vulnerable. My body tensed up, involuntarily shied away from his touch.

"It's ok, baby," his voice came immediately, soothing me, "Just relax. Believe me, it gets so much better." His finger sneaked in further, was joined by a second, and I couldn't help squirming again, the sensation strange and vaguely uncomfortable.

"Jason..."

"Shhh," he whispered, and softly stroked my thigh with his other hand, "Just wait until I touch you...*here*..."

As he said it, he pushed in another half inch and brushed his fingers against my prostate, sending a bolt of pure pleasure straight through my body. I jerked and let out a soft scream, pushing back on his fingers. "Oh, fuck, what was that?"

Even though I couldn't see his face, I could just tell Jason was grinning at me as he replied, "That, my dear, is what is going to make you come harder than you've ever come in your life." He pressed against that spot again, making my insides turn to liquid. I would have done anything for him in that moment, would have killed for him, so long as he promised to never stop. "Just think," he was whispering to me, "This is just my fingers barely brushing it...imagine my cock, filling you up, pounding against this spot with every stroke. You want it?"

"Yes!"

"Beg me then, Marshall. I want to hear the big, hard Slim Shady begging for a cock up his ass." I knew that he was getting me back for calling him a cocksucker before I'd fucked him earlier, and even I had to appreciate the irony in the words.

But I just didn't care. I'd beg him until my throat was raw if that was what it took. "Please, Jason, fuck me, please, please, I need you so bad,"

His fingers slipped from my ass and then returned, coated in cold lube. "Come on baby," he whispered, his voice ragged, "Le hee hear you."

"Fuck me!" I cried, pushing back on his fingers, feeling the lube spread over and into my opening, "God, Jason, give it to me!"

Once more, he withdrew his fingers, pulling up on my hips until I was on my hands and knees. I felt something hard pushing against me, something much bigger than just his fingers. And despite how much I wanted it, needed it, couldn't breath without it, I panicked again, letting out a small whimper.

"You gotta relax, Marshall," Jason murmured, reaching under me to take my cock in his hand, "Relax and let me in...yeah, like that..." Slowly he pushed his head into me, stretching me open, and I whimpered again, letting my head drop down to the pillow. "Marshall...it's so fucking tight..."

At those words, I remembered a line from one of my songs, 'Slim Anus? You damn right slim anus, I don't get fucked in mine like you two little flaming faggots.' Well, that was out the window, wasn't it? 'Cause here I was, letting Jason inside me, letting him open me and fill me up, take me over. And I was *loving* it.

He was about halfway in when he paused, gripping my hips so tight I thought they might leave bruises. "Marshall," he hissed, "Push back on me. Get me inside you, I want to feel you fuck yourself on my cock."

Immediatly I was doing as I was told, wanting to prove myself to him, wanting to prove that I really wanted this, really wanted to give it to him. Slowly I eased myself back, feeling myself split open on him, feeling him deep inside me. It was amazing, more than just physical. I knew that I'd never been complete until that moment, knew I'd been living this empty, hopeless existence right up until the moment Jason was inside me. And I knew then that I was in love with him. Completely, helplessly in love with him.

I knelt up, twisted around and grabbed his head, kissing him deeply, trying to show him without words exactly what I was feeling. My back was pressed tight against his chest, one hand gripping his face and the othwinewined around him to hold his ass, pressing him even further inside me. Jason moaned and held me tight to him, still pumping my cock.

We froze like that for an eternity, just kissing, just existing inside each other. I don't know if he felt what I was feelin', don't know if it was just all in my head, but I swear we turned into one person then. It lasted forever, eons upon eons of pure ecstasy. And then, finally, he pushed forward, moving inside me and setting off an explosion in my body. I fell back onto my hands and knees, and from then on in, it could only get better.

Jason fucked me hard and fast, pounding deep into me, slamming into my prostate with each stroke. I screamed, I cried, my tears dripping down my face and onto the pillow, I moaned, whimpered and begged for more, harder, deeper, faster. I prayed it'd never end, and then when it got too much, prayed that I'd come already, come like my whole body was begging for me to do.

"Oh, Jesus, Marshall, I'm gonna come," Jason groaned after another few eternity's of bliss, his thrusts coming faster than I'd thought possible, his hand on my cock stroking me in quick counterpoint to his harsh movements.

I don't know what is was set me off, his words or his movements, but suddenly I was almost there too, I could feel it building in my stomach, threatening to take me over completely. And I invited, opened myself to that exquisite void.

He caught every drop when it came, milked me hard and gathered all my come up in his cupped hand, kissing my neck as I screamed out beneath him. Then he brought his hand to his lips and licked it, tasted my come as if it were a delicacy, and exploded inside my ass.

I collapsed onto my stomach, sprawled out limply on the bed while Jason sat back on his heels, slowly slipping out of me and rubbing my thighs.

"Fuck, man...that was...I ain't got no words," I gasped, turning my head to look up at him. He smiled down at me, still panting, his hair dripping with sweat and stuck in long strands over his face.

"I know how you feel," he said, gulping for air, "Fuck, you were good. It's been a very fucking long time since I've had someone like that."

I blushed at the compliment and rolled onto my back, wrapping my legs around him and pulling him down on top of me. "Shit, man, it was my first time..."

"No kidding?" Jason laughed and kissed my chest, licking up the droplets of sweat, "You were awesome. Fuck, I love virgins."

"Is that all I am to you?" I asked, pretending to be hurt, "Just another virgin?"

Jason raised his head, looking me in the eye. "No. You're a hell of a lot more to me than that, Marshall," he said in this quiet, sincere voice. I blinked and reached up to touch his face, brushing my fingertips over his cheek.

"I am?"

"Fuck yeah. I don't know what it is, but I can see something in you. Something that's so much more than those bullshit images you put out." He leaned into my touch, like a cat consenting to be stroked.

"Thanks for seeing through that shit," I replied.

Jason shook his head. "It's easy to do when you let your defenses down."

"And *that's* easy to do with someone like you," I grinned, "You're so fuckin' amazing. I've never felt this way before."

Jason froze. "You don't really mean that," he murmured, shaking his head, "Do you?"

"Yeah, Jason, I do," I whispered, "I think I'm in love-"

"Shhh," he pressed a finger to my lips, "Don't say it, Marshall. Not now. Not when in the morning you're gonna kick me out of here and pretend I never happened to you. Don't do that, ok?"

I shook my head, dismayed that was all he thought of me. "I'd never do that," I insisted, "Never. It's true, man, we just met, but I think I'm in love with you."

He closed his eyes at that, turned his head away. "That's a line from one of your songs," he said in this dry, empty little voice. I groaned, it was too. A couple of lines later, the song continued, 'We wake up in the morning, 'Girl what the fuck'd we do? I gotta go, bitch, you know I got stuff to do, 'cause if I get caught cheatin', then I'm stuck with you.' Not exactly my most sensitive song.

"Shit, Jase, I didn't mean..."

"No, I know. But honestly, Marshall, you're tripping if you think that tomorrow morning you're gonna take me back to your hotel and proudly tell everyone I'm your new boyfriend. Don't kid yourself. Don't kid me."

I was silent, I couldn't think of anything to say. He was right, I had to admit that, there was no way I could openly come out, no way that it was possible. But on the other hand, I *was* in love with him. Too deeply in love with him to just let him go. My mind raced, trying to think of a solution, any solution. "Jason, come on tour with me," I said desperately, "There's gotta be something you can do, some excuse for you to be part of my crew. I dunno, I'll slap a flannelette shirt on you and call you a roadie if that's what it takes, but I ain't just gonna give you up."

Jason sighed at that and kissed me gently on the lips. "I'm going back to London," he said softly, "I'm going home. I can't go on tour with you."

"Why not? Jason, I'll pay for everything, whatever you want will be yours. But I can't not see you, you gotta understand," I gathered all his hair in my hand, cradled his head gently, "Jason, I *love* you. I don't say that shit lightly."

Tears filled his eyes, dripped down onto my chest. "Marshall, maybe I love you too," he said real softly, "But maybe I don't wanna be a whore for the man I love. Maybe I don't wanna travel around this fucking country with you, waiting every night for you to see me, and watching every morning as you disappear. I couldn't do that. I couldn't live like that."

And I couldn't expect him too, either. I knew that. I wouldn't do it to him. But there was a part of what he'd said that I needed to hear again. "Maybe you love me?" I asked hopefully, sweeping my thumbs over his jaw, feeling his beautiful soft skin.

"Yeah, maybe I do." He nodded. "Maybe when I get back to London I'm gonna spend all my time wishing I'd stayed with you. Maybe I'm gonna watch your film clips from now on with tears in my eyes. But you know it'd never work."

"Tell me you love me again," I whispered, my owns fls flooding with tears, "And then maybe I'll be able to accept that."

Slowly he dipped his head and pressed his nose to mine. "I love you, Marshall Mathers, Eminem, Slim Shady. I love you. And I'm never gonna forget this."

"Stay 'till morning, then? I can't let you go just yet."

Jason smiled and slipped off me to curl up next to my body, draping his arm possessively over my chest and twisting his leg with mine. "Honey, I ain't going anywhere."

We lay together, holding each other as if our lives depended on us never letting go, softly stroking each others bodies. "Good night, baby," I whispered, the fact that I was saying it to a guy not even registering anymore. He nuzzled into my neck, pulling the sheet over us both.

"Good night, Marshall. Sweet dreams."

I smiled, running my fingers through his hair. "With you next to me? Always."

I fell asleep still clutching him tightly, soothed by the soft sounds of his breathing, letting myself imagine that tomorrow would never come.