~> The story written below is purely fictional. Not a fraction of truth is riddled between these words nor does the author imply that there should be. Most of the events in the pages to follow are created in the author’s mind and thus should not be taken as fact in any way. He takes no responsibility for any illegal activity such as underage reading because it is done without his knowledge or sanction. The story’s solitary intention is that of entertainment and nothing beyond.
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As usual, the paparazzo stalks the entrance of the club outside and flashbulbs light the city twice over when he steps out of the SUV and onto the red carpet. He already sees the likes of Jay-Z and Diddy further down the carpet as he starts the press line. The questions are generally the same; all they want to know about is his recent shooting. The rap star takes it in stride and answers every question similarly before moving to the official photo shoot before entering the club. It is always the same routine. He does not know which direction to look because of the amount of cameras pointing at him so he just looks straight ahead and smiles for as long as it takes. A great relief succumbs the rapper when he is finally able to leave everything behind and enter the club. A drink is immediately offered to him and he takes it because of thirst. He is hounded by a few fans for autographs before reaching the safe haven of the V.I.P. section. The drink is finished and 50 Cent walks over to the bar to get himself another one. Eminem will owe him big for this and his mind starts plotting payback.
50 Cent walks around with a drink in his hand to greet his fellow rappers. A photographer manages to sneak into the exclusive section and asks permission to take a picture of him and Justin Timberlake. The two men get closer together and smile for the camera before a bright flash is protruded. The musicians shake hands before parting ways and he walks around to greet more people. The V.I.P. area is packed with everyone from Snoop Dogg to Fabolous; all who seem to be relaxed and having a good time. The ebony rapper sits at a table with Usher and Young Jeezy and they talk about the industry in general as well as extreme fans and staying in the game. A waitress comes by and all three men order drinks from her and they all watch her walk away. Although it feels good to get away from some of his issues for the night, 50 cannot help but admit to himself that he is missing Lloyd Banks and wishes he were here so they could talk and hang out together. He wants those lips on his again. His body wants more than anything to feel that ecstatic bliss over again.
The huge gathering starts to see signs of defeat at around two in the morning when people start to disappear for the night. The roped off section is still packed but not as much as it once was. 50 starts to feel signs of fatigue because of his lack of sleep the previous nights and walks over to the bar to get another drink, his forth. He is slightly buzzed as he sits at the bar and drinks the cocktail. Both his mind and heart are heavy with ambiguity about him and Lloyd Banks having a possible future together. The G-Unit founder’s strong convictions are telling him that the younger rapper just needs time to sort everything out but that confidence is gradually slipping away from him. As bad as he wants to believe it, he cannot anymore. It is too hard to. The bar slowly becomes free as more and more people are leaving. He turns around on the stool and scans the crowd to see if there is still anyone he recognizes. 50 Cent feels a surge of blood rush through his veins when his eyes connect with those of the Atlanta rapper Ludacris’. He wonders what will happen.
The DJ turned rapper walks up to the bar and orders himself a drink. He seems to have arrived at the club not long ago. “What up kid?” he asks the man next to him.
“I ain’t no kid.”
“I know you ain’t. Just tryin’ to see what’s good with ya. Thanks yo,” Ludacris says to the bartender before sitting on the stool in front of him.
“Just got outta the recording studio so I thought I’d swing by and see what’s going on here.”
“You a lil’ late for that,” 50 responds in a tone that is uncaring. He looks at the other rapper, as if he is studying him.
“Tell me ‘bout it. It’s straight though. Ay, you good after that whole shooting thing?”
“I’m here aren’t I? I dunno when these niggas gonna realize that they can’t put bullets in me. They wastin’ they time tryin’. They can’t keep me down.”
“That’s kinda cocky isn’t it?”
He continues to look at him. “Might be but it’s the truth.”
“If you say so.” The southern rapper gulps down the rest of his drink in one shot before saying, “Ay yo, gimme another one. Damn this place is empty. I’m ‘bout to bounce.”
“What’s yo rush?”
“No rush. Came too late to enjoy anything.” There has been an unspoken tension between the two ever he sat down after ordering his drink. “Ay, how’s that nigga Banks? Haven’t seen him in a good minute.”
“I ain’t his keeper. He a grown man.”
“I know that! Y’all in the same lil’ group together though so you gotta see him.”
“Why you care for?”
“Why not? He’s straight. What, you don’t let the boys of G-Unit have any friends besides you?”
“What the fuck you tryin’ to get at nigga?” the buff rapper asks in a slightly raised tone. He continues observing the other rap star’s body language and demeanor. It is increasingly starting to make more and more sense now.
“Not a damn thing. If you don’t see it then I guess the rest of us shouldn’t either.”
There is underlying in his words. There is something there and he knows it. “You startin’ somethin’?”
“Naw. That’s yo job.” Ludacris is relentless because he knows that the man sitting next to him is the reason that he and Lloyd Banks have not spent any quality time together since they left Connecticut. “You feudin’ with every nigga out here.”
“Jealous kid? You’ll be at my level someday.”
“Yo level? I past that shit while sleepin’.”
“You sure ‘bout that?” Something finally clicks in 50’s mind. It is him.
The G-Unit founder leans in close so that only the two of them can hear what he is about to say. He is positive about his suspicion more than anything else. “Oh I’m positive too---” The tone of his voice is malicious and vindictive now. “I’m positive I had my boy Chris ridin’ my dick again. Oh he really took care of me when we was up there in Connecticut. Guess he couldn’t stay away for long.” There is a sadistic smile adorning his face now.
The DTP rap star stays still for a moment as the words stream through every vein of his almost numb body. It does not register at first what has just been said and the whole club becomes quiet to him. His heart rate starts to increase and a surge of adrenaline rushes to every vessel of his body while his mind goes blank. Ludacris immediately jumps out of his chair and balls up his fist before swinging it as forceful as he can toward the other man. 50 Cent feels a sharp pain sting against his jaw as he stumbles back on the bar stool and falls to the floor. Complete rage takes him over as he hops back up to his feet to be greeted with another punch to the stomach this time. He is in a fight with another rapper at an exclusive club in New York. Nothing registers to either man’s brain as a serious fight begins. A fight that has been restrained since both met each other for the first time. The Atlanta rapper clutches his jaw as 50 swings back and hits him on the lower portion of his face. Anger is fueling hatred, which is fueled by revenge as it continues to happen now.
The bartender watches in horror as punches and insults are thrown back and forth from the other side of the bar, not sure if it is really happening or not. The southern rapper takes another hard punch to his face and spits out blood before retaliating with another powerful punch of his own. The V.I.P. section is almost empty with the exception of a few people, who are now intently gazing at the rumbling fight between the two massive rap icons. The G-Unit member loses his balance and falls to the floor hard and feels another punch slam into his abdomen. It hurts even more because of the new bullet wound that is still there. He tries to push the other rapper off of him when they are both wrestling on the floor but initially fails and feels another series of punches and even some kicks batter his weakened body. The rest of the people have now cleared out of the room out of fear while the bartender continues to gawk with his mouth open. What is going on? Why are they fighting? Time is nonexistent. People are nonexistent. Rage and passion cloud their judgment.
Ludacris dodges his body away from a kick and is still on top of the man he hates more than anyone in the world now. He slept with Lloyd Banks. He slept with his man. Punches, kicks, and scathing insults keep the G-Unit member’s body in pain until he gets the upper hand and manages to overpower his attacker. The other man may be smaller than him, but he is extremely strong. He underestimates him; a mistake he will not make again. Both kick each other away and manage to rise onto their feet again; their eyes intensely glaring into each other’s. Their bodies are weak and hurting. The light skinned rapper is bleeding from his nose and lips and is sure that there are bruises all over his face and body. 50 feels liquid trickle down from his nose and his entire torso is on fire, especially where he was just shot, but they will not stop. Integrity has to be proven right now. The DTP rapper ducks a full swing from his rival and connects his fist with tender flesh. 50 Cent knees him in the face as he is stumbling back before four bouncers finally arrive at the V.I.P. section.
“It felt good Luda! So fuckin’ good!” the buff rapper says scornfully as he is physically being pulled apart from the other man by two heavy bouncers. He uses the back of his hand to wipe away blood from his leaking nose and broken bottom lip.
“Shut the fuck up! You lucky he holdin’ me bitch!” Ludacris equally says as he tries to fight the other two bouncers off of him. He wants a piece of 50 Cent right now. This cannot be happening.
“Naw you lucky pussy!”
The bouncers do their job and take each man to extreme opposite sides of the club as they each still struggle to break free and finish what was started at a very popular New York bar. They will be on the news tomorrow for all the wrong reasons. 50 still feels lava pumping in his veins as he is dragged out of the club and into the street. Fans and bystanders look on as the bouncers continue to restrain him in an attempt to calm him down. The hatred is there in his eyes and he seriously wants to go back in the club to finish what he started. People are in a frenzy taking pictures and recording video with their cell phones but he does not care about his image or the media right now. His mind is too focused on Ludacris and driving his head into the ground to care about much else. The same white Escalade as before streams down the street and stops directly in front of the club while the two men are still holding on to 50 Cent. They let him go and surround him so the only place he can go is into the car and leave the scene. The fight will not finish tonight; his body wants it.
Another pair of bouncers escorts the other upset rap superstar out of the club through the back and they all end up in a barely lit alleyway. He assures them that he is calm enough now and warns them to leave him alone. They have no authority to contain him anymore because he is physically out and away from the club so the men back off and head back inside, leaving him alone. Ludacris immediately leans his swollen and broken body against the cold wall as he looks up to the sky. He feels his left eye swelling slightly and stinging while the strong taste of blood is still in his throat. 50 Cent will pay for this and so much more. Pain registers itself as too much for his body to handle so he continues to use the bricks of the building to prop himself up. The southern rapper’s chest feels numb and his heart is frostbitten. Lloyd Banks cheated on him and continually kept on lying to him. What did he do to deserve this? All he ever wanted was to love him with everything he is. It still isn’t enough, to this day. He turns around and punches the wall in front of him.
The G-Unit rapper stumbles into his room feeling weak and disoriented. His wounds are getting worse and he needs rest if he is to stay alive. The coffee table in the middle of the living room becomes the new home to most of his clothing and accessories. All the jewelry along with his shoes and clothes are stripped off and left on top of the table while he easily walks into the room in his boxers alone. Ludacris connected with some powerful punches, most to his lower abdomen, and the pain is starting to become unbearable. Frightened and nervous, 50 Cent steps into the shower to wash his body off. At the first intrusion of water, he howls out in pain because his skin is too raw for water to be touching it but he has to clean himself. Soap does not provide any kind of relief as the buff rapper continues to gently lather his face and body with the cool, tingling soap. The shower is straight from hell and he does not even look at himself in the mirror as he walks out of the bathroom and into the room once more. 50 dries his naked skin and crawls into bed, today not being his.
The DJ turned rapper sits alone in his dark suite, thinking about it all. The night, the fight, the revelation. This is why he has been acting so strange. So distant. How could he have allowed this to happen? More anger takes over and for the first time in a very long time, he is scared of what the near future holds for him. The beaten rap star makes his way to a shower he knows will hurt but it must be done. He has to rid his body of every one of 50’s touch. They started a fight in a club; it is still so unbelievable to him. In the moment when the ebony rapper told him that he and Banks slept together, Ludacris lost all self control and did not care if he seriously hurt or killed the man he was fighting against. His rage was uncontrollable and it scares him because he has never gotten that mad in his life before. The shower is a most uncomfortable and excruciating experience but he works through it and manages to brush his teeth without looking in the mirror. He cannot. The toothpaste stings his busted mouth and lips so he rinses quickly. Sleep takes over.
It has to be a bad dream. That is all it was; a bad and extremely weird dream. Once Ludacris awakes the next morning, all that logic instantaneously disappears because of how much his entire body aches. A massive headache lives in his skull and the room spins out of control as he attempts to get up from bed. He has to find Lloyd Banks and confront this new situation. He has to at least hear his boyfriend’s side in all of this. It is the very least he deserves. The Atlanta rapper is immediately on the phone with his agent cancelling all his upcoming interviews, photo shoots, recording sessions, and everything else that is required of him because he needs a few days to himself. A few days to figure out the mess that is now his life, thanks to 50 Cent. His cell phone meets the quilt draped over the bed as he lies there and looks up at the ceiling; he wants his head to stop spinning. Banks’ betrayal hurts more than the cuts and bruises left behind from the fight last night ever will be able to. He feels like his heart is now shredded open and bleeding profusely.
Through a rarity of fortune, he turns on the television in his bedroom just in time to tune in to a celebrity show. The show provides him with an invaluable piece of information; his man is in Miami collaborating on a mixtape with various other artists. The southern rapper calls his publicist and notifies her to have a private jet ready to take him to Miami as soon as possible. The less people he comes in contact with the better because he does not want anyone to see his various bruises and scrapes. A result of his temper getting the best of him a night ago. Ludacris gets out of bed and readies himself to leave New York to face his unknown relationship. He is almost positive that he is going to let the other man go. He cannot handle it. Suitcases are already packed and he has a black du-rag and hat on his head when the bellhop knocks on the door to take his things downstairs. They have to know about the fight; it should be splashed across every newspaper by now. The rap star checks out of his room in the lobby of the hotel and quickly jumps into his waiting car.
After a follow up call from his publicist to assure him that everything is on track, she also scolds him for acting like an ignorant teenager last night; he looks out the darkly tinted windows to see the visages of skyscrapers passing him by. His mind is a jumbled mess but one thing is screaming at him loudly; he cannot continue the relationship. It would hurt too much. The DTP rap superstar remains quiet as he lets thoughts cloud and conquer his once perfect connection he thought he shared with Lloyd Banks. It has to end now and he will be the one to finally do it. Once clearance comes, the driver follows a path very few get to see or even know about. It leads then directly onto the tarmac and the jet comes into view instantly. A generous tip sends the driver back on his way as the conflicted man walks up the steps and enters the cozy aircraft. It is more than hell to bear and his insides feel slashed in so many ways. Ludacris takes a window seat and accepts a drink in the form of bottled water when it is offered to him. The plane rumbles around him now.
The warm sunshine Miami boasts kiss the rapper’s skin when he exits the plane and sees his rental car awaiting him only a few feet away. The metallic gray BMW M6 flourishes in sunlight as an associate hands him the key to the very expensive ride. His belongings are packed into the trunk and passenger seat of the sexy ride and he signs a few documents before driving off the runway of Miami International Airport. Ludacris feels the knot tightening in his stomach as gears shift in the car and he is out on the busy streets; the top of the convertible comes down and a sultry wind gently streams against his face. It helps clear his mind of the overpowering thoughts that lies there but his heart is still bleeding by it all. His abdomen hurts; partly because of the fight but also that his stomach barely has any food in it. He has to wait for Banks to leave the studio before he can confront him. Though extremely personal, the celebrity TV show from this morning also informs him as to where the G-Unit member is currently staying while in the Sunshine State.
The easy part is done. He knows where the other man is staying. The rest will never come that easily. He aimlessly drives around the busy city because he has no place to be yet. He does not want anyone knowing that he is down in Miami or what he is truly doing there. Ludacris grabs a quick bite to eat to satisfy his stomach and the smooth drive manages to keep him tranquil for what he thinks he is about to do. Ever so slowly, the abnormally large ball of light in the sky begins its descent to the other side of the world, signifying how much closer the actual time is. The actual time to give up a relationship that means so much to him. A few minutes before eight, he walks into The Tides South Beach hotel and checks himself into their most expensive suite; it was ironically vacated only mere hours earlier. A helpful bellhop gathers up everything from the sports car and walks it upstairs to the room. The DTP star rests on the middle of the bed with his hands to his side and his head constantly staring up. He does not want to do it. His body is broken.
When it is around eleven that night, the Atlanta superstar gets up and strips off his clothes to take a shower after spending all that time in bed looking at the ceiling. The bruises are starting to heal but they are still visibly red and noticeable. A raw one is one his jaw while a few minor scrapes and cuts are on his upper torso and arms. 50 Cent did not physically break him, Lloyd Banks did. He slips on a black and blue polo shirt over his light skin and black jeans contribute to the outfit’s success. Black sneakers and a splash of cologne complete the look, it stings against his skin. Contemplating at first, Ludacris decides to wear a hat so he fetches one. He grabs the key to the car and his wallet and phone before leaving the luxurious suite. Nothing has happened yet but his heart rate is slightly faster than it should be. Opting not to put the top down, the troubled rapper drives off from the hotel’s parking lot and makes his way out onto the main road. Nothing is on his mind.
The exotic and extremely impressive Mandarin Oriental hotel slowly approaches on the horizon as Ludacris speeds toward it with a great urgency and desperation. He has so many things to say, so many things he deserves an explanation for. These are things he needs to hear from his boyfriend. The Beemer is parked in a nearby guest garage and he pulls his hat over his face as much as possible so he can obstruct it from the view of anyone. The front desk clerk buys into his lies of how Lloyd Banks invited him and offers up the information of his room number willingly. She does not seem suspicious in the least bit and for this he is glad. The lobby is deserted as he walks through it and enters the brass elevator at the other end. It slowly whisks the lighter rapper away from the first floor of the expensive hotel. The floor only has one door and numerous windows. He loses his nerve and walks up to one overtly massive window and stares out at the calm ocean before him for a long moment. The time will never be right for this so he takes it in and steps forward.
He takes a deep breath before his strong knuckles tap against the mahogany wood of the door. When it opens, a pair of confused eyes is looking back at him. “Bri? Hi---”
The older rapper is lost in those eyes. He cannot find himself at first. “Can I come in?”
“Yea,” Banks opens the door and moves aside. It is then when he notices the various cuts and scrapes. He closes the door behind them. There is silence. “Why are there cuts and bruises on your face and arms? What happened to you?”
“Nothing. Can I sit?”
Ludacris ignores him and looks around the vast room. The views are spectacular and the suite itself has a beguiling aura about it. “This is a nice room. I gotta stay here sometime.”
“What’s goin’ on? We see each other and you don’t even try and kiss me?”
“Do you want me to kiss you?” he turns around and looks directly at the man standing across from him.
“You never had to ask before---”
The DTP star walks up to his boyfriend and cups his face with both his hands, resting his thumbs on his strong jaw line. Eyes intently stare into one another’s before a kiss happens. Everything about it is different. “Happy?” he asks when they break apart. His tone almost sounds vindictive.
“What was that? You never kissed me like that before. What the hell’s goin’ on Brian? Why do you have all these cuts on you?” Patience is staring to be lost when no answers are in sight.
“You haven’t heard? I thought you would have by now. The whole world has---”
“Heard what? What happened to you?”
He sits on the sofa and looks up at his boyfriend; the look on his face is of worry and frustration. “You seriously didn’t hear?”
“No. Tell me what’s going on right now babe.”
“You can’t call me that,” the DJ turned rapper says under his breath. He looks away and finally says, “I got into a fight. Last night.”
“What? With who?” Lloyd Banks immediately sits next to his man on the sofa. The other man gets up from the sofa. “With who? Why you actin’ like this?”
“All secretive and shit.”
“You one to talk---”
“Fifty. That nigga and I got into a fight at a club last night in New York.”
His face is stunned and he cannot believe what he is hearing. “What?”
“Pick up a paper or turn on the TV if you think I’m lying.”
“I didn’t say that. Why though?”
“I lost it when---”
“He said somethin’ to you? What’d he say?”
“He said something ‘bout you,” the southern rapper looks out at the ocean once again and says. He cannot formulate the right words at the precise moment.
“What’d he say? Tell me.”
“It all makes sense. Why you’ve been actin’ the way you have. Everything.”
The younger rapper sinks into the sofa and he feels his heart in his stomach at the words. He now knows what this is about and can no longer run from his past mistake. “Bri baby, I can explain---”
“Why bother? You didn’t after it happened so why even try to now? Don’t call me that.”
He gets up from the sofa and walks over and grabs on to his strong boyfriend. There is a struggle. “Please. I can’t lose you. I gotta explain what happened.”
“You let him fuck you. I know what happened Chris. Let me go. I’m tryin’ my best right now to keep it cool. Get off.”
“I’m so sorry baby. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen. I don’t want him---”
“Chris I’m serious. Back up.”
Lloyd Banks reluctantly breaks free and steps backwards a few times. “I was scared to tell you. I didn’t want you to hate me or stop loving me. I want you.”
“I can’t be with you. Not anymore. Not after this.”
“No. Don’t give up on us. On me. I made a mistake---”
“One too many Chris. You know what it was to have that fuckin’ bastard tell me to my face that he fucked you? When you supposed to be mine?” Ludacris has emotion in his voice for the first time of the night. He is officially beyond the point of hurt.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I was distant because I was tryin’ to figure out a way to tell you.”
“I don’t give a fuck anymore. Go with him. You two deserve each other---”
He embraces the older man once again. “Please. Let me make it up to you. He ain’t shit to me. It’s you. It’s always been you.”
“Back the fuck up kid.”
“It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have let it happen. I’m sorry.”
“I can’t do this with you anymore. One minute you with me and then you on him the next. Shit doesn’t work like that.”
“I don’t want him. Not anymore. Believe me.”
“I don’t believe anything that comes outta your mouth kid,” the Atlanta rap star states as casually as possible.
“I know I should’ve told you. I didn’t know how you---”
“That’s fuckin’ bullshit and you know it! We could tell each other anything.”
“I was scared that this was gonna happen. I can’t lose you Chris. You mean more to me than he ever did.”
His front is convincing but he knows how different it is inside him. He just wants to take his boyfriend and lay kisses all over his body. He wants to take him into the room and make love to him. And, more importantly, move past and forget this whole ordeal. “I ain’t playin’ this game anymore.” He is remaining firm.
“So that’s it? You just gonna leave me like the last time? I thought you said this time was gonna be different---” Banks hears his voice almost to the point of cracking and stops talking right away. He will not let anyone see him this weak.
“Whatever. Only so many times I can say I love you.”
“Only so many mistakes I can forgive.” Their tones are sarcastic and condescending now. It hurts too badly.
“What was the kiss for?”
“You asked for it.”
Banks walks up to his man and gently pushes him into the wall; there is no resisting this time. Their lips meet together in an intense kiss while their bodies give into it with every fiber that composes it. He is trying to let go and forgive the mistake but it burns him too badly and he is selfish. There is every right to be. An innocent kiss fills each man’s body with the strength and gratification it needs; what it has been longing for. The southern rapper encircles his arms around his man’s narrow waist and holds their bodies tightly together. Blood surges through tight openings and becomes heated with friction and lust as their lips are still locked together. The G-Unit member roams his hands around every conceivable inch of the frame pressed into the wall and one of his hands eventually make its way up to his boyfriend’s head and easily tilts his hat before slowly taking it off. It stays on his fingers momentarily before dropping onto the ground beside them. Ludacris moans against his lips before starting another kiss he now intends to see through.
“I’m so sorry babe! You dunno how hard it was for me to lie to you---” the younger rapper’s voice is filled with moans and breathlessness.
“I want you Chris. I could never stop wanting you baby,” the DTP star gets in between his moans. He is kissing the other man’s neck now.
“You got it. You got me.”
He stops everything and stares directly into his boyfriend’s eyes. “You mean it?”
“Yes. I promise. I love you.”
“I love you.”
Let’s go to the bed,” Lloyd Banks says as he feels the weight of the entire world lift off of his struggling shoulders.
“I’m sorry Bri.”
“I know.” He kisses the unaware rapper’s lips as a sign that he is beginning to accept and deal with what happened with 50 Cent in his Connecticut mansion.
Having everything finally out in the open makes him feel so much better than he cannot explain it. He does not have to lie or avoid his boyfriend anymore and it is one of the best feelings in the world. The couple walks, hand-in-hand, to the bedroom to truly make up and make everything right between them. It fits, just like before. Ludacris hates the fact that he cheated but he cannot begin to deny how right they feel together. How perfect they truly are for each other. Banks is slightly startled when he feels a pair of arms surround him from behind but relaxes into the embrace moments later until the journey to the massive room is finished. He turns around to face the other man and his lips are instantly caught in another sultry kiss. The southern rapper coaxes the breath out of his body as he gently guides his lover back on the bed so he can forget it all, if only for the rest of the night. Lloyd Banks relaxes onto the bed when he feels his back pressing into it and the older man crawling on top of him. Once again, they defeat the forces and find their way back together.
The DTP superstar wastes no time in helping him out of his shirt while they are madly kissing and feeling tongues fight for sheer domination. The Moon is a small crescent and only manages to illuminate sparingly through the pulled back curtains of the large balcony doors in the room but all the right spots on Lloyd Banks’ body are lit. His skin becomes that milky caramel complexion and this drives the other man mad with lust. He helps him out of his pants and they too are tossed away as he is now in a pair of black boxers alone. A large tent lifts the fabric up and almost makes it lifelike and Ludacris cannot wait any longer. He scoots his body down the pair of legs under him and lowers himself to the level of the poking member. In a bold move, he licks it through the fabric of the boxers. The G-Unit member almost jumps out of his skin as it happens again and again; it feels too damn good to pass up. His boyfriend expertly works his head over his cloth-covered dick for as long as he can; there is a huge wet spot in front of his boxers now. It becomes too much.
When the confines become loathsome and unwanted, the Atlanta rapper strips away the article of clothing and tosses it to an unknown oblivion. His mouth devours the rock hard dick in front of it; his slick tongue swirls all over the throbbing dark pink head as if he is licking a lollipop. He wants this; they both do. It suddenly does not matter what 50 Cent said or the consequences of it thereafter. He could never have this kind of connection with Lloyd Banks. It is all a big lie on his part because of his jealously and missed opportunity. He feels a pair of hands cup the back of his head so he forces himself to go deeper and stay longer because his lover is subtly demanding it and he will not disappoint. Ludacris starts to push more of the now pulsating rod into his mouth and sucks it with his lips as well as his throat before he reaches his limit. He will choke if he tries to force any more into his straining mouth. The G-Unit rapper moans and grunts blissful slogans and encouragements as he is being thoroughly serviced. It is heaven on Earth.
He stops because the evening is forbidden from ending prematurely and removes his mouth from the younger rapper’s dick; he places an innocent peck at the very tip and serenely strokes the underside when his throat is free of the invading monster. He climbs back up to his initial position until he is gently sitting on the lower abdomen of the man under him. In a smooth motion, the superstar rapper throws up his hands into the air and wrestles his body out of his shirt as he feels his man’s eyes on him. It is thrown aside and he begins fiddling with his belt before he realizes that an extra pair of hands is there to aid him. All the fingers fight with one common goal and the belt and pants are defeated. A pair of striped Polo Ralph Lauren boxers is the only thing holding Ludacris’ modesty onto his body but that too is taken advantage of by his eager and awaiting boyfriend. Lloyd Banks hooks his thin fingers onto the elastic part of the piece of clothing and ever so slowly drags it down his legs. Goosebumps are left in its wake as the pair of shorts comes down and off.
The G-Unit member pushes his body through the other man’s legs, which are still straddling his body, as much as it takes for him to get into position. Once there, he grabs the base of the dick pointing directly outward and strokes it a few times for it to get to full mast before putting it in his mouth. He flickers and teases the head sufficiently before moving his head up and down slightly to get more of the length into his throat. Ludacris hunches his body forward and presses both his hands into the bed to support himself before he starts feeding Lloyd Banks more and more of his aching rod. His hand is still on the base of his lover’s dick but his other hand easily maneuvers around and squeezes his butt. It sends a jolt of shock and surprise up his spine as the tables are turned and he continues to be pleasured. The moment is right. Everything is right. Suddenly, past mistakes are just that and a future together is only conceivable. Banks works his lips over the rigid, hard shaft of his man’s starving dick while his other hand still cups and massages his soft butt.
Ludacris forces all the pressure onto both his arms and leans over even more so he can truly give the man under him what he wants. The young rap star stops doing the work when he feels the blood engorged organ being forcefully fed down his throat. He rests his hands on his lover’s hips in an attempt to control the thrusts and willingly accepts the rod entering and exiting his mouth. He sways his hips up and down softly and watches back fixedly as his dick disappears and reappears from his boyfriend’s mouth. It is turning him on more than anything and he starts to feel that tingling sensation. They have not been intimate in so long that it is only natural that all his pent up sexual frustration and longing is flourishing now. He is getting what his body wants. Lloyd Banks now utilizes both his hands to run up and down his man’s back and butt. It is a pattern; he roams the back freely and then works his way down to the butt where he squeezes it a few times before doing it all over again. The harmonious cycle breaks apart and their lips rejoin as a silent secret.
“You ready?” the DJ turned rapper asks his love once it falls apart. He still cannot get over how alluring his man looks in the Moon, even against the limited light entering the room.
“I want it.” They kiss.
“Gotta ask for what you want babe---” he smiles slyly as their bodies are pressed into the bed together.
“Come on! You know what I want---”
“A glass of water? A shower? A---”
“Stop!” Lloyd Banks almost pleads. “You killin’ the mood Chris.”
Ludacris slithers closer to his boyfriend. To his ear. “Tell me what you want baby boy.” His whisper is maddening.
“I want you. I want it. Don’t play with me.”
“Okay okay. I think I got what you want right here.”
The southern rapper’s smile is a weak point of his. He will always melt when he sees his man smiling. Their kiss is pure and romantic as the mood is set all over again and they are the only two people on Earth. A gust of wind rattles against the window outside but it will not break the momentum of the evening for either them. Banks just follows the lead as he feels his body being tugged and pulled. He turns around so that his stomach is not against the bed and when he feels the older man move on top of him, he starts to see what is going to happen. Grabbing a nearby pillow, the G-Unit member rests his head and a portion of his upper body on it as he feels Ludacris’ weight on him. He kisses and nibbles against his ear and neck to elicit moans of desperation and necessity. Their hot bodies pressed against each other’s create untold passion that is begging to be released through the union of their beings. Lloyd Banks grunts again when he feels his ear bring bitten and his body grinded into by the older man on top of him. He is ready to give it everything.
The DJ turned rap superstar feels his heart beating up in his throat because of how ready he is to make this man his once again. 50 Cent has nothing on their relationship anymore. He will not let the incident control who he is truly meant to be with. He spits on his hand to lubricate his dick even more and strokes it thoroughly to apply the liquid to every inch. It cannot be held off any longer. He grabs his meat at the very base; he feels the hairs tickle his palm, and starts finding the hole he wants to be in. The crevice that makes him crazy with satisfaction and envy. Lloyd Banks is slightly startled when he feels the cold member press into his sensitive spot but relaxes when he knows he is being penetrated. His body is more than use to it now so pain is bypassed and pleasure sets in with a driving force that is undeniable. Ludacris enters smoothly and easily and does not wait before he pulls back out and reenters. He has no patience because his hormones are in control now and they will do anything to make sure he reaches that state of nirvana.
His dick plunges into his lover strongly as he resumes his position on top of him and gnaws at his ear. He kisses the nape of his boyfriend’s neck and starts to feel goosebumps everywhere his lips touch. The sensations are addicting and overwhelming as both men starts to lose themselves in it and nothing else. Lloyd Banks tilts his head backwards as he feels his man grabbing onto his neck so their lips could meet together. His hips are moving up and down as they are sharing a kiss. It is the ultimate sin. His body jolts up when his prostate is touched for the first time of the night. The DTP rapper’s thrusts are longer and go deeper so he is sure that the sensitive organ will be poked many more times. The stars in front of his eyes are keeping him from losing the rhythm. Another kiss is stolen and more flecks of light appear in front of Banks’ eyes as he feels his straining dick against the mattress. It wants release. Ludacris plows him faster and harder now; his prostate is hit with every accurate thrust now, to create that sweet friction between them.
Banks wants to grab his dick to jack off because it is physically hurting and he knows it is leaking precum onto the sheets but he cannot because of the position they are making love in. It is digging into the bed and he desperately wants more ecstasy but there is nothing he can do at the moment. Ludacris is making him feel too good for him to keep dwelling on it. It will happen eventually because he feels himself so close to bursting that it is tantalizing him. When the warming friction is finally achieved between the two eager bodies, he struggles to keep it going forward with his plunges. For the extra edge, he grabs his lover by the neck again and pulls him up for another obsessive kiss. One more thrust and the heat, moistness, and tightness of the slender G-Unit member below him manages to capture him and keep him a prisoner of love, lust, and ecstasy. The southern rapper feels the tip of his swollen pole burst deep inside Lloyd Banks and shudders when he is finally able to let go everything he has been saving for so long. He pulls out thereafter.
“Sorry I finished first babe.” The Atlanta rap superstar is out of breath and besieged with an unstoppable flow of adrenaline. He crashes on the bed next to his lover.
“Yo ass ain’t going to sleep on me. You better help me with this,” Banks warns him. He is so revved up right now and needs the liberation.
“Okay okay. I got you honey,” he smirks.
“I ain’t nobody’s honey.”
“You my honey because you taste so damn sweet.” Ludacris winks before forcing more strength into his worn out body. “Come here.”
The slender man moves closer to his boyfriend and they kiss sweetly for a brief moment. The heat of their bodies being so close together almost manages to sum up the night perfectly. He just needs a release. The rap superstar slowly snakes a hand down from his cascading chest to his flat stomach before resting it on his hard dick. They kiss more intimately now as his warm hands traces back and forth on the hard shaft of Banks’ dick. His body bucks up at the welcoming touch that is sending ripples of pleasure to the very core of his being. Ludacris’ tongue swirls in his mouth and tastes him again and again as his hand is coiled around and stroking his man’s overly sensitive dick. He closes his eyes and gives in to the gratification his body is receiving. The kisses are more aggressive and the stroking is speeding up and he can feel the end drowning him. Lloyd Banks’ muscles of his torso tighten and clench as he moans in the older rapper’s mouth and feels the cum being drawn out of his throbbing member. Cum splashes against his toned abs.
“Wake up baby. You good?” the southern rap star asks as he sees his love slumbering off next to him.
“No. I’m tired---” he whines cutely.
“We need to talk.”
Lloyd Banks opens his eyes and glues them to the ceiling before finally looking at the man beside him. “You wanna talk now?”
“It’s botherin’ me. Did you use a condom?”
“No---” he says lowly. “It kinda just happened.”
“Explain to me how.”
The G-Unit member shifts his body to face his boyfriend. The light barely illuminates their shadows. “I was in his room cutting off the bandages from his body.”
“He asked you to?”
“Yea. I cut them off and then he just looked at me. I dunno how it went from there but it did.”
“Did he kiss you?”
“Did you like it?” the older rapper openly asks.
“Yes. I won’t lie to you.”
“Because you already did. That’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”
“I couldn’t face you after it happened. I didn’t want you to kiss me or anything because I felt I didn’t deserve it. It was hard---”
Ludacris sighs and closes his eyes. He rubs his temples to relieve some of the stress he feels building there. “I came here to let you go.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I couldn’t. I can’t.”
“Because I love you Chris. You hurt me but that doesn’t stop how I feel about you.”
“I never wanted this to happen.”
“If I thought you did then we wouldn’t be here right now,” he states matter-of-factly.
“You forgive me?”
“I’m confused. I need time to think it over.”
“Are we gonna take a break?” Banks hears himself ask. His heart is doing all the talking for him now because he does not want to lie to the rapper looking back at him ever again.
“No. No. I don’t want a break. I can’t take a break from you. What you doin’ to me kid?” the southern rapper helplessly asks as he looks up at the ceiling above them.
“You love me as much as I love you.”
“I’m crazy ‘bout you. That’s why this shit hurts so fucking bad.”
“I really love you Chris but damn you hurt me,” he honestly admits. It is the first step in helping him cope with it all.
“I’m glad you didn’t go through with your plan.”
“I saw you and couldn’t. You looked the same. Smelled the same. Kissed the same---”
“I am the same.”
“I guess so.”
A rewarding kiss signifies the close of the night as both men give their bodies the rest they deserve. Everything still feels so right between them, even after all that has happened. A single sound does not disrupt the room and reality becomes nonexistent around them as sleep takes over. The evening is so much more rewarding than either rapper could have expected or hoped for. Subtle lights from the Moon and stars above scratch and invade their resting visages as Lloyd Banks holds on to the man next to him as they sleep. How many more chances will he get before he loses his boyfriend for good? He should not need any more chances. Their relationship needs a lot of work if it is to get back to what it once was or better. It has to go back to being that way because it is obvious how much both wants it to be that way again. The southern rapper tosses in the bed before shifting his body position and going back to sleep, unaware of the nothingness surrounding them. Time floats by in a slow continuum and seemingly comes to a stop now.