Just A Fucking Fantasy
Nick shook his head and took a couple involuntary steps back. "No way, man. No fucking way."
Marshall rolled his eyes and huffed out an impatient breath. "It's just a fucking fantasy. I won't mean it when I say no and fight back. I really wanna do it."
"Can't we act out some other fantasy that's not so disturbing? Umm...something with nonfat whipped cream or frozen yogurt?" Nick gave Marshall a quick but thorough look up and down and shifted his stance slightly, cursing his easy triggers and Marshall's knowledge of same. "Isn't the outfit enough of a fantasy for you?"
"That is your problem? It's the clothes?" Marshall just stared at Nick for a moment before batting his eyelashes and puffing his chest out, making his nipples a little more visible through the almost sheer white blouse.
Nick swallowed hard and took another step back, but Marshall followed until Nick was pressed up against the hotel room door so tight he could feel the raised edges of the peephole digging into the back of his neck. "Marshall, come on..."
"Don't you want to fuck me, Nick? Don't you want to fuck her?" Marshall licked his lips, pink and slick with gloss. "The gossip rags said y'all already did it, so what's another fuck? Hit me baby one more time."
"I didn't and it's different with you and you want me to...do what you said before and I don't know about this--" Nick bit his lip to stop the babbling.
"Do you have any idea how many fags would like to rape my ass?" Marshall pressed up against Nick until their mouths nearly touched and almost shouted, "Do you?"
Nick wanted to say 'not this one', but Marshall's hard cock was poking against his thigh through the thin schoolgirl skirt and his mouth was too dry to speak. He rubbed his tongue against the back of teeth trying to generate some saliva but Marshall reached up and pried his mouth open with his fingers and shoved his tongue past Nick's lips, so rough and dirty that Nick almost bit it before catching himself.
Marshall pulled back when they were both breathless and shoved his hand down the front of Nick's loose-fitting jeans. "You're hard, you fucking cocktease." His voice was rough and his fingers weren't gentle as the curled around Nick's cock. "You want it." Marshall tightened his grip and whispered, "Don't be such a little pussy popstar. For once in your miserable life be a real man."
"Stop it, Marsh-- oww!" The pain in his dick mixed with the previous arousal to tap into Nick's deepest places and stir up things he usually worked hard not to feel. His teeth snapped together and he closed his eyes trying to calm himself and regain control of the situation.
"Awww, you gonna cry now?" Nick opened his eyes as Marshall removed his hand from Nick's pants and rubbed it on his plaid skirt. The smirk on Marshall's pouty mouth looked mean and sexy, and Nick thought about kissing him just to shut him up, but masochistic curiosity made him want to hear what else he might say. "I ain't even a cop, but you're gonna cry all over me like a pathetic little baby? Maybe you just can't handle topping a real man. Maybe your little pussyboy bandmates are all you can handle."
"Shut up about them," Nick said, clenching his fist but trying to squelch the urge to swing.
"I'll bet if sweet little Howie D wanted to play, you'd do it. You ever slammed him down on the floor and ra--"
Nick's open hand connected with Marshall's face even as his fist swung up and tangled in the loose folds of the blouse. Bright red drops dripped from the corner of Marshall's mouth and stained his teeth when he grinned and said, "That's all you got, bitch?" But Nick barely registered the words because his body was already in motion, pushing away from the door and shoving Marshall toward the bed.
For the first time since they'd been involved in this weird pseudo-relationship that they never talked about, Nick used his greater size and strength against Marshall, gripping his upper arms tightly and lifting his feet off the ground as he slammed him face down on the bed. The pile of condoms and lube that had been laid off to the side skittered onto the floor, but Nick caught one as it fell and stuck the corner between his teeth for later. Then he went back to subduing Marshall who had started to struggle and swing one fist around trying to hit Nick from a very awkward angle.
Nick braced his forearm across Marshall's shoulders and spread one hand across the back of his head, pushing his face down into the bedspread, muffling the string of curses and insults that poured from Marshall's mouth. Nick had stopped listening anyway. He didn't need the extra fuel any more.
After a moment, Marshall went silent and still. Nick let go of his head, and raked his skirt up, baring the white cotton panties underneath. As Nick slipped his fingers under the elastic, Marshall started bucking and twisting his hips which actually helped more than hindered the unclothing process. After the panties, Nick started on the blouse, pulling it down halfway down Marshall's arms and leaving it there so that it bound him almost as effectively as rope.
Nick straddled Marshall's thighs to keep him from kicking while Nick got his own jeans open and shoved them down just far enough to release his cock and balls. He ripped open the condom packet with his teeth and rolled the lubricated condom on, smacking Marshall's ass hard enough to leave behind a white handprint that quickly filled with red. He reached up and shoved two fingers into Marshall's mouth and said, "Don't you fucking bite me, bitch," silently marveling at how easily the words had come, how easily he was settling into the role.
Marshall closed his teeth on Nick's knuckles, but Nick hauled back with his other hand and slapped his ass again, so Marshall only licked the fingers until they were dripping with his spit. Nick planted his free hand in the middle of Marshall's back and moved his wet fingers down to the crack of his ass. He pushed them both inside Marshall at once, not being particularly gentle about it, not like he would have under normal circumstances. He wouldn't let himself think about the way they usually had sex because this was too all-consuming. He had no attention to spare for anything that wasn't holding Marshall down and fucking him hard, and just maybe making him cry the way he'd almost made Nick cry earlier. Nick would do anything to break Marshall down enough that he'd cry in front of him, and if this rape fantasy would do it then Nick was going to give it all he had.
Even with Nick's big fingers stretching and moving inside him, Marshall still kept talking, cursing Nick until he ran out of things to call him and then starting in on his family. Nick let the stuff about his mom go but when Marshall started in on Aaron and Angel, Nick scrabbled around until he found the panties and then stuffed them in Marshall's mouth. The muffled scream of outrage was so high-pitched and girly that Nick laughed as he pulled his fingers out of Marshall and shoved his cock in until his pelvis was flush against the curve of Marshall's ass.
Nick licked the sweat from the back of Marshall's neck and sank his teeth into his nape as he drew back and slammed into Marshall again and again. He sucked bruises and left red semicircle teeth marks all across Marshall's shoulders and back. He stopped when he broke the skin over a shoulder blade, and the taste of blood on his tongue was a little too welcome, a little too delicious.
A thrill of fear shot through him, destroying his early resolve. Nick stopped the frantic pounding of his hips and ripped the panties out of Marshall's mouth. He tried to speak but his voice froze in his throat. He swallowed hard and tried again, "Marshall...you...you all right?"
"Yeah," Marshall croaked. He worked his jaw for a moment and flexed his shoulders, the muscles jumping under Nick's tongue as he soothed the bites with tender licks. "Finish it," he said finally, his voice sounding better but still far from normal. There was a hint of begging instead of the imperious orders he usually gave in bed.
"No, I can't do this." Nick pulled completely out and lifted his weight off of Marshall's body. He stripped off the condom and dropped it on the floor, where he found a fresh one and a tube of lube.
"What the fuck? Get your ass back over here." Marshall struggled to turn over with the blouse still pinning his arms to his sides. There was a surprisingly quiet sound of ripping fabric and then he stopped. "Fuck this motherfucking--"
"Shut up," said Nick mildly, smacking Marshall's ass again, careful to match his hand up to the pink handprint already there. Then he flipped Marshall over onto his back and opened the remaining button on the blouse so he could pull it off more easily. He started to remove the skirt, but on second thought, just flipped it up over Marshall's belly covering the Rot In Pieces tattoo that he'd never liked much anyway. He looked at Marshall's cock and then up into his eyes. "You're not even hard," he said evenly, trying not to freak out because if Marshall wasn't enjoying this then it really would be rape and Nick would not be able to live with himself.
"Only 'cause you stopped." Marshall stared back for a moment then shifted his gaze to one side, something he often did when talking to strangers but almost never did when they were alone together, which made Nick wonder if Marshall was trying to hide something. He opened his mouth to ask, but Marshall wrapped a hand around the back of his neck and raised up far enough to kiss him hard, biting at his lips until they stung. After just a moment, he spoke against Nick's mouth, "If you don't finish, I'll kill you."
Nick smiled tremulously and pursed his lips, getting in one last soft kiss before Marshall fell onto his back and groaned, "Shit, that hurts. You fucking vampire."
Nick flinched and started to apologize but stopped when he caught the warning in Marshall's eyes. Leaning down and licking the length of Marshall's cock as a distraction, Nick rolled on a condom and lubed up his cock and his fingers. He slipped his fingers inside Marshall, who gasped and grew hard against his tongue.
Nick sucked on the head of Marshall's cock, making sure he was good and aroused again, almost desperate to come. Finally letting it slip free of his lips, he moved up onto the bed so that he could lift Marshall's hips up onto his thighs and push his cock slowly up his ass, sliding more easily into the lubed passage than he had before. When he was embedded deep, he worked his arms under Marshall's back and lifted him into a sitting position on Nick's lap.
Marshall's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as they always did when Nick moved him around like a rag doll. Nick chose to read it as a mixture of surprise and delight, and would continue to think it was a good thing unless Marshall ever told him differently. He gave Marshall a chance to shift his legs to make himself more comfortable and then he cuddled Marshall close with one arm around his waist and started to stroke his erection, jacking him off at a nice steady pace. Marshall tilted his head back and tightened his inner muscles, the pressure on Nick's cock drawing an appreciative gasp.
The position didn't allow for much movement but Nick loved having Marshall's weight on him, loved how solid and real he felt in his arms. He loved the way Marshall gripped his shoulders, sometimes digging his fingertips in deep and sometimes lightly stroking Nick like he was something precious. He suddenly wished he'd bothered to take his clothes off so he could actually feel Marshall's hands on his bare skin.
And then with a whispered curse, Marshall jerked and his whole body stiffened, his cock swelling in Nick's hand as he came in a short burst. Nick tilted him back onto the mattress and shifted so that he could thrust into Marshall again, and it only took a few strokes until he was falling after Marshall, coming into him with a burst of pleasure and soul-deep release. He came for what seemed like forever and then collapsed onto the bed beside Marshall, pulling free of his body as gently as he could. He barely remembered to hold onto the condom and then strip it off as soon as he was out. He dropped it onto the floor and forgot about it as he kicked off his shoes and shucked off his jeans and t-shirt. He pulled his boxers back up.
Marshall reached for him immediately, wrapping his arms around Nick and pulling him close again. Nick licked at Marshall's throat, tasting sweat and that unique Marshall-flavor that always made Nick think of marijuana and iced tea. He closed his eyes and let his face rest on Marshall's shoulder, his mouth open against the ridge of his collarbone, breathing him in as their exhausted bodies tangled together in a seemingly endless loop of limbs.
Marshall's body relaxed and his breathing evened and started to deepen with sleep, but Nick had to say one thing right now. If he waited until the revealing morning light, he'd either lose his nerve or forget why he wanted to say it. He pressed his lips to the smooth skin of Marshall's shoulder and then raised his head. He waited until Marshall slowly opened his eyes and irritably squinted at him, and then said, "I don't ever want to do this again. This...this fantasy thing."
"Why?" Marshall's eyes widened just a bit and Nick had the uncomfortable feeling he could see every thought in Nick's brain. "Don't lie and say you didn't like it."
"I did. That's why." Nick shrugged and lay back down on the bed, scrabbling around until he found a corner of the top sheet. He pulled it over them both and closed his eyes. "I thought I'd do anything for you. But I won't."
"Fine, then don't do it," Marshall said in a flat, tired tone.
"Now you're mad."
"I'm not mad." Marshall yawned and threw an arm across Nick's middle. "I'm just fucked in the head, but so are you."
Nick yawned himself and then laughed. "Am I ever."
"Tell me one thing. Did you think of Britney? Or Howie?"
"That's two things, but no. I only ever thought of you," Nick said as he drifted off to sleep. He never heard Marshall's response.