Lance stumbled out of the back of the bar, his fifteenth beer of the night still in his hand. He sighed and rested his sweaty back against the brick wall, closing his eyes, feeling the sweat drip off his eyelashes. He felt rather than heard someone near him. “Dude, you ok?” the person asked.
The voice was deep with a slight melodic quality. Slowly Lance lifted one eyelid, trying to focus on the blurry face in front of him. All it did was make him dizzy and feel like he was going to throw up. He reeled forward, doubling in half, causing the beer bottle in his hand to crash on the concrete. The last three beers he drank came up and landed on the pavement. A cool hand was placed on his back. “You need a ride home?” the voice asked.
Lance simply nodded. He felt the cool hands tug him towards the street. “Do you know what hotel you’re staying in?”
“Ritz,” Lance whispered. The man had to lean closer to his lips to hear him. Lance caught the distinct scent of Cool Water Deep cologne. Next he knew he was being pushed into a black SUV of some sort and was being driven down the road. A strong arm was keeping him upright. There was body heat on his right side. Silently he prayed he was actually being taken to his hotel and wasn’t being kidnapped by whoever this person was. Hell! He didn’t even know who this guy is! He tried to open his eyes again. Blurry bulbs of light passed by the car. He looked over to his right to see who had been his supposed rescuer. “Fuck,” Lance whispered.
Eminem turned to face him. “You ok?” he asked, lines creasing his forehead.
He knew his jaw had dropped, however he couldn’t collect enough mental faculties to lift it. `I’m going to die tonight. Eminem is going to kill me,’ Lance thought to himself.
“Lance?” Em asked.
`Oh my God, he knows my name,’ he thought. `Wait… he asked a question. Fuck he’s waiting for an answer.’ “Yeah… yeah… I’m ok. Just get me to the hotel.”
Eminem nodded but watched him carefully. The car came to a slow stop in the basement parking garage of the Ritz Carlton. A private elevator would take them to whatever floor they needed to get to in the hotel. Em helped Lance out of the car slowly, guiding him over to the elevator. He motioned to the driver to wait right there for him. They got into the elevator and were met by a small man in a green suit stationed at the elevator buttons. Em looked at Lance who had an intense expression of surprise on his face. “They have leprechauns now!” he exclaimed rather loudly. Em could hear the driver laugh and the bellhop went undaunted.
“Floor sirs?” the little bellhop in the green outfit asked.
“Lance, what floor are you on?” Em asked him.
“Um… Club. I think..,” he mumbled.
“Get out your key card, dude. It’s gonna be on there.”
“Key card, right.” Lance tried to fumble in his pockets, somehow not being able to get his hand all the way down in them, his pants were too tight for alcohol swollen hands and fumbling fingers. He pouted. “I can’t get it.” The bellhop was getting impatient.
Em grumbled. He looked at the bellhop. “Don’t you fucking tell anyone about anything you see in this fucking elevator tonight,” he threatened.
The bellhop shrugged. “Sir, I’ve seen stranger and weirder combinations come through my elevator.”
Em sighed. “All right well then… shiitttt… Can you see that he gets to his room then?” The bellhop shook his head `no’ and smiled. “If I give you two hundred dollars? That’s all I have on me right now.” The bellhop shook his head again. “What if I write you a check?” The bellhop shook his head again. “Fuck. Lance, I’m gonna search your pockets. You better not pull anything, fucker.”
The surprised expression returned to Lance’s face as Em’s hand went deep into his tight pants pockets. He tried the front ones first, careful to avoid a certain place. Sighing, he shoved his hands down the back pockets, grabbing Lance’s ass accidentally when he found the card. Em blushed slightly. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“Not a problem,” Lance whispered back.
Em looked at the key card. Sure enough it said Club. Why should he expect anything less? Em nodded at the bellhop who pressed the button for the club floor luxury suites. Lance leaned heavily onto Em who looked at him rather worriedly. “You ok?” he asked.
The doors opened and Eminem guided Lance out onto the floor. “Ok which room is yours?”
“Down here,” he said, pulling Em with him. They walked down the hall, Em supporting Lance’s weight with an arm around the waist. Lance lazily laid his head on his shoulder. “Thanks for helping me.”
Eminem looked down at him into the deep green eyes and couldn’t hide the smile on his face. “Don’t worry about it. We all need to get trashed sometimes.” He looked down at the key card and stopped at the room it named. He rested Lance up against the wall and slid the card into the door. The red light blinked to green and the door was unlocked. Em opened the door, holding it with his foot, and reached over and pulled Lance into him. Lance fell into his shoulder and was pulled into the room and sat on the bed. The green comforter sagged with his weight. Em looked down at him, watching his body sway. “I’m gonna leave now. You gonna be ok?”
Lance nodded with his whole body, tilting forward and back. “Want me to call anyone?” Lance nodded again. “Who?”
“Your bodyguard,” Lance whispered.
Em’s brow furrowed. “My bodyguard? Why the hell would I call my bodyguard?”
“Tell him to wait longer,” he moaned and took ahold of Em’s collar pulling him down, crashing his lips against his. Em’s body stiffened. He pursed his chapped lips closer together, resisting Lance’s probing tongue.
Refusing to be defeated, Lance twisted them around pushing Em’s stiff body down on the bed. Em fought against the younger man in a desperate effort to get away, curses emanating from his mouth in a fluid stream. “Fucker! Let me go, bitch! Fuck! See if I ever try and help your faggot ass again!” Lance caught both of Em’s hands in one of his, pinning them over his head. His glazed over sea green eyes looked down into fierce ice cold blues. “Fuck you,” Em spit.
Lance’s mouth crashed down on him again. Em struggled but this man was amazingly strong even in his drunk state. Lance’s free hand ran down his chest and to the buckle of his pants. Eminem’s eyes bulged from his skull when the thought of a potential rape came to mind. He bucked up against Lance’s hand and attempted to pull his wrists from the ever tightening grasp. Lance rubbed his hand down in between Em’s legs, rubbing his cock through his pants. Em immediately stopped moving. The fingers on his cock started rubbing in slow circular motions on the outside of his jeans. He sucked in a giant breath, closing his eyes. Lance’s lips trailed soft kisses down his neck, those fingers dancing magic across his growing cock.
Em moaned as Lance’s fingers unzipped his pants, easing their way inside his boxers. Lance let go of Em’s hands and tensed slightly, expecting to be pushed off or punched. Instead he was wrapped up in the older man’s arms and met by thrusting hips and hushed moans.
Lance sat back and pulled off his shirt and pushed up Eminem’s shirt, kissing up his stomach. His tongue traced each letter of his Rot In Pieces tattoo, eliciting more moans from the platinum blond beneath him. Lance pushed Em’s shirt up and over his head, ripping it off his arms. The couple met, lips crashing together, hands rubbing and caressing. Em pulled back and looked in Lance’s eyes. “I’m not gay,” he said.
He was met with a kiss and a mumbled, “I never said you were.” Eminem flipped them over straddling Lance who started to unbutton his pants. “Fuck me,” Lance whispered, eliciting a moan from Em. Lance’s hands ran down his chest, caressing every muscle, outlining every tattoo with a feather light touch. Em groaned and pulled back ripping off his pants and pulling Lance’s tight leathers and boxers down too.
“Fuck, I don’t know how this works,” he said.
Lance smiled his easy smile and reached in the nightstand getting out the lube. He squirted some on his own fingers before handing it over to Eminem. “Put this on your dick.” His own fingers pushed inside of himself, loosening and stretching the tight opening.
Em watched Lance’s fingers work inside himself in utter amazement. He had never seen anyone fingerfuck their ass like that. Quickly he lubed up his cock and straddled Lance, who put his legs over Em’s shoulders for support and easier access. Em spread Lance open and drove himself home in one easy push. Both men moaned deeply, enjoying the new sensation. Em’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. A woman’s pussy could never be this tight. He looked down at Lance who was gritting his teeth, watching his lover’s face intently. “It works better if you move,” he whispered. Em nodded and slowly pulled himself back, then pushing back in again. Em moaned deeply, rubbing his hands up and down Lance’s legs as his speed slowly and steadily increased. Lance bit his lower lip at the powerful thrusts the older man was giving him, fisting his hands in the sheet. Em readjusted his angle and unknowingly slammed into Lance’s prostate. He arched high off the bed, moaning out his lover’s name in his deep southern drawl. Em tried to hit that spot again, succeeding, and sending Lance into near convulsions. He could feel his balls tightening, signaling the beginning of the end. Lance suddenly went very still underneath him, eyes closed, head arching back, every muscle tense, as his cock erupted white fluid all over his chest. Eminem watched his lover’s climax in awe. He felt the heat around him close in with every spurt, almost like a heartbeat. He couldn’t hold it anymore. Letting out a gutteral moan, Em released deep inside Lance.
Pulling out he collapsed next to Lance on the bed. “Fucking God,” he whispered.
Lance smiled and closed his eyes. “Don’t worry. You’re not gay,” he whispered back, on the verge of sleep.
Em looked over at him and watched his breathing slowly turn into the rhythmic sleep breath. He got up and dressed silently. Walking to the door, he decided no one needed to know about this for a very long time. However, he did start to wonder what it might be like…