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So,um, the following is a little, er, dark. It's a Marshall Mathers/JC Chasez snippet I found on my hard-drive; how did I write this? Feel free to ignore it, but I'm trying to get all my snippets on my lj so I have a base to work from when I'm not at home. Just in case I actually have time to FINISH something.
And, erm, Happy New Year! Heh.heh.
JC/Eminem from Marshall's POV.
He has a lot of explanations for what the two of them did together, and they are all physical. Hot breath, cold hands, sliding thrust into something so sweet that tears burn his throat. He doesn’t ever talk about it with anyone, except in code.
He never claimed they weren’t in love, because love is something that he doesn’t really think about except in context of daughter/mother/friend. Platonic women, rejection , and the men who spin his backbeat. Emotions get moved when the fucking starts, but usually to the back burner and he never takes an inventory.
So they meet again at yet another awards after-party, and he has no idea what to do with the pain in his belly when JC enters on the arm of some motherfucking queer. He knows the guy’s a queer because of the stupid look on his face, like he’d be humping JC’s leg if they weren’t at this boring-ass party. JC, who should be stepping back and smiling at Marshall with his eyes fluttering, seems pretty happy with the attention.
It’s true that the last time, in that hotel room that stank like Lysol, JC had left with bruises on his wrists and a split lip. But that pretty fucking mouth hadn’t known when to shut up and Marshall never asked him to share the details of his past. Somehow between the fucking, which was good/hot/dirty like always, and the moment when the taxi pulled away from the curb, there was too much information about where the mark on JC’s throat came from and how JC learned to suck like that.
He remembers asking angry questions, and something black clogging his throat. He vaguly remembers answers that burned him. He isn’t stupid, and he knows now it was jealousy. Which fucking sucks, because he laughed at JC when he said it.
~
Eek with the bitter angstiness.
Hopefully there'll be fun and frolicsome stuff soon.
And, erm, Happy New Year! Heh.heh.
JC/Eminem from Marshall's POV.
He has a lot of explanations for what the two of them did together, and they are all physical. Hot breath, cold hands, sliding thrust into something so sweet that tears burn his throat. He doesn’t ever talk about it with anyone, except in code.
He never claimed they weren’t in love, because love is something that he doesn’t really think about except in context of daughter/mother/friend. Platonic women, rejection , and the men who spin his backbeat. Emotions get moved when the fucking starts, but usually to the back burner and he never takes an inventory.
So they meet again at yet another awards after-party, and he has no idea what to do with the pain in his belly when JC enters on the arm of some motherfucking queer. He knows the guy’s a queer because of the stupid look on his face, like he’d be humping JC’s leg if they weren’t at this boring-ass party. JC, who should be stepping back and smiling at Marshall with his eyes fluttering, seems pretty happy with the attention.
It’s true that the last time, in that hotel room that stank like Lysol, JC had left with bruises on his wrists and a split lip. But that pretty fucking mouth hadn’t known when to shut up and Marshall never asked him to share the details of his past. Somehow between the fucking, which was good/hot/dirty like always, and the moment when the taxi pulled away from the curb, there was too much information about where the mark on JC’s throat came from and how JC learned to suck like that.
He remembers asking angry questions, and something black clogging his throat. He vaguly remembers answers that burned him. He isn’t stupid, and he knows now it was jealousy. Which fucking sucks, because he laughed at JC when he said it.
~
Eek with the bitter angstiness.
Hopefully there'll be fun and frolicsome stuff soon.
