~>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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After borrowing more of the other rapper's clothes, both men are off to the gym in the early afternoon. 50 Cent needs to release some of the stress and tension from his body before he goes crazy and going to the gym is one of the few ways he has to help him deal with his chaotic life. He is glad that Banks accepts his offer because he cannot remember the last time they have been to the gym together. He wants his friend back in his life and for things to go back to how they were before they were intimate. The buff rapper views their talking things out and now going to the gym together as a step in the right direction back to that friendship. Their two hour long workout drains a lot of their energy as they run on treadmills, do numerous sit-ups and push-ups, and spot each other on lifting weights. Some of the stress burns off of 50's body as he is sweating and breathing hard. Working out is one of his favorite hobbies because he needs to keep himself fit and healthy; for him and no one else. Their heart rates are out of their chests.
"Let's hit the showers," 50 says as the two men sit on a bench in the locker room, trying to regain some strength. "I got a lot of clothes for us."
Lloyd Banks' eyes are on the floor as hears the words. "I guess."
"I dunno. Wouldn't it feel weird?"
"How? We've showered at the gym before. What's the big deal?"
"With everything man. I can't get it outta my head," the younger rappers confesses, his eyes still on the floor.
"It's just a shower Chris. And you know you want one. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked befor---" the buff rapper stops himself. That night still seems to control their relationship with one another.
"We gotta get past that."
Banks does not want to have this conversation anymore. He is uncomfortable and hates himself for being so weak. "Let's go. I need one bad."
"Me too. Good workout."
The two men shake hands in mutual agreement before taking their clothes off and heading for the showers. Lloyd Banks' eyes cannot help but wander down 50's body as he is walking behind him. His muscular frame and cute butt catches his attention as his exposed dick begins to stir awake. He tries to think about anything else so he does not end up with a full erection but nothing is working. When they are finally in the shower, he catches glimpses of his friend's soft dick. He tasted it. He had it inside him. This was more than a bad idea. The buff rapper is unaware as he lathers soap on his ebony skin and shampoo onto his hair. Banks keeps his cool as best as he can and he talks as if nothing is going on with him. He wants to be that close to his best friend though. There is no use in denying it anymore but he will never admit it to the older rapper because that would only complicate things between them even more. His body is perfect. He cannot take it anymore so he washes himself off quickly and grabs a nearby towel.
"You heading back to your room?" he hears 50 ask as he emerges from the showers. Banks is fastening a pair of the older rapper's jeans onto his narrow waist with a belt while the towel is still draped over his bare shoulder.
"Yea. Gotta get ready and shit."
"My clothes not good enough for you nigga?"
"You know what I mean."
"I'm just messin' around. Aight man. Ay listen."
50 Cent gets serious. "I want us to get back like this. Like that shit never happened between us. I know it's gonna be hard at first but I can't lose you Chris. You mean too much to me nigga."
"I know Curtis. It's not gonna fuck up our relationship anymore. It was a mistake right?" he asks dryly. He hates that 50 views their night together as a mistake but he's trying not to let it bother him. Too much damage has already been done to their relationship as friends.
The buff rapper does not pick up his tone and agrees. They quickly hug one last time before Lloyd Banks disappears through the doors of the exclusive gym and goes about his own life. In a way, he is relieved to get away from 50 Cent because he is finding increasingly hard to be himself around the other man. He has to constantly watch what he says and does and it is exhausting. Pushing all that away from his mind, the younger rapper jumps into a black SUV and leaves the gym. It is almost three in the afternoon when the superstar rapper walks out the gym and into an awaiting car to take him back to his suite. His body is now recovering from the natural high it is in and he suddenly gets excited. The first thing he wants to do when he gets to his suite is call his son, as he promised his mother, and himself, he would. He also begins to wonder where Banks is going to be tonight. Their shower today had 50 distracted because he caught himself noticing his friend's muscles and body in general. It's all so puzzling to him.
Once in the room, he jumps into the loveseat and removes his light jacket, fetching his phone in the process. He dials and puts it on speaker while resting his head back on the sofa. "Hello?" a woman's voice sounds.
"It's me again."
"Two calls in one day. I feel so special," she counters in an emotionless voice.
"Relax okay. I don't want this morning to happen all over again."
"You're right. I'm sorry. About this morning," she formally apologizes to her former lover. "I'm glad you called. I didn't think you would."
"I said I would. Where is he?"
"Doing his homework. Let me get him."
The phone line goes silent before an innocent little voice asks, "Hello?"
"Sup Twenty-five Cent?" the rapper asks. He loves calling his son that.
"Hi daddy!" the six-year-old excitedly replies into the phone. "Doing some homework. How are you?"
"Better, now that I'm talking to my favorite little guy. How was school?"
"It was good. I had a substitute today."
"What happen to Mrs. Green?"
"She had a doctor's appointment."
"Oh. What kinda homework you got lil' boy?" he is genuinely interested to know. He has to be there for his son. It cannot be only about him anymore.
"Math. What's three times four daddy?" Marquise tries to get some answers from his father.
"Twelve. Are you okay Tré ?"
"Yea. Mom told me not to listen to any of the bad stuff they say about you on TV."
"Yea. She said she doesn't want to see me cry anymore."
"I don't either baby. I'm sorry I hurt you Marquise," the ebony rapper closes his eyes and says. It is so exhausting being away from his son.
"You didn't hurt me daddy."
"I feel like I did. And I was really mad at myself for a long time."
"No. I just believed everything everyone said."
"Still. I can't let you down son."
"You're not. Did mom tell you that?"
"Daddy you're lying."
50 Cent smiles a sad smile. He does not even know why he attempts to lie to his little boy. "I don't want you to develop a bad image of your mother. She's only trying to protect you."
"She doesn't need to protect me from you. You're my dad and I love you. What's three times six?"
"Eighteen. It's not that. She just feels that I'm gonna disappoint you one day. And I have to agree with her Tré . I never want to hurt you but I'm so scared that I will. Really bad."
"Don't say that. I know you'd never hurt me on purpose. I just wish she'd stop being so hard on you," Marquise's voice begins to crack.
"Don't baby. It's okay," he tries to comfort the six-year-old. He is sure that he cannot handle his son crying again. It will break what is left of his already crushed spirit. "You gotta be strong Tré . Remember?"
"I'm really trying daddy. It's so hard."
"I love you. I know it and you know it. That's all that matters. I know its hard baby but you gotta be a lil' soldier for daddy," 50 coos.
"I'm trying. What's four times six?"
"Marquise Jackson! Are you trying to get all the answers for your homework from me?"
"No," he giggles but says ingenuously. "What are you talking about?"
"Twenty-four. You're lucky you're so cute."
"I get it from you daddy."
"Maybe. Are you mad at me?"
"Not being a normal father."
"No. It's hard sometimes not having you around to play with but I understand why. I can never be mad at you."
"Stay six forever son. Please?"
The youth laughs. "Why?"
"You still have the ID band I got you?"
"Yea. I never took it off. I love it."
"Good. I'm gonna let you concentrate on your homework now okay?"
"Tré ---" the rapper trails off. He does not want to let go either.
"I love you son."
"I love you too daddy. Bye."
It is late afternoon when the rapper reluctantly ends his conversation with his son. He reluctantly does so but he also didn't want the boy to concentrate on him and not his homework. An indescribable feeling of relief and serenity blankets the 50's insides, all because of his son's sweet voice. He gets up for the remote control and turns on the television, watching nothing in particular before hearing a special ring go off on his cell phone, notifying him that he has a new text message. It is from Dr. Dré and asks him if he and Banks finished the album last night. The superstar rapper is in no mood to deal with work at the moment so he ignores his friend's message, resting his phone on the nearby coffee table before stretching his whole body out on the sofa and watching the TV. His muscles are sore in a good way as he yawns and doesn't realize when he begins drifting off to sleep. Deep, strong breaths enter and exit 50 Cent's body as his muscular chest rises and falls to the occasion. Light turns into darkness but all is unaware to him.
50 Cent is startled awake by his cell phone ringing on the coffee table. He sits up and rubs his eyes before looking at the unknown number, contemplating on whether or not to answer it. "Yea?" his curiosity defeats him.
"Fifty?" he hears a woman's voice on the other end.
"Yea. Who's this?"
"Hi," the rapper says, confused. He does not remember giving her his number. "How are you?"
"I'm fine. What about yourself?"
"I'm okay. You can call me Curtis. How did you get my number?"
"Okay Curtis. Young Buck gave it to me. I hope its okay," she carefully asks him.
"No. Of course. Would've happened eventually anyway right?"
"Yea. I just needed to talk."
"About what? Are you okay?"
"Yea. No. I don't know. I'm so nervous."
"About what?" he begins to rub the back of his neck because it is stiff.
"All of this. It's happening so fast. I don't know if I'm ready."
"Listen. I know it's gonna be an adjustment at first but you'll get used to it."
"I just don't want to disappoint Dré or Eminem or you."
"Dré sees something in you baby girl. He knows talent so you have nothing to worry about," 50 Cent does his best to comfort her.
"You think so?"
"But I did so bad on the first studio test," Olivia says softly.
"Buck told me. He said you were nervous."
"I've never been more nervous in my life."
"It's okay. We all get nervous and of course you're gonna be nervous. It was your first time. You didn't know what to expect."
"I really didn't. I was so scared."
"Well now you have an idea so you should be okay."
"Yea. Do you think Dr. Dré is mad at me?"
"I doubt it. He's reasonable. He knows you got talent so he's gonna be patient with you."
"I hope so. I don't want to let you guys down. You've given me this great opportunity---"
"Don't worry about it. You'll start producin' when you more comfortable around us. Give it a couple more weeks and you'll see. We're just a bunch of crazy niggas. You don't know what you gotten yourself into girl," he says as he laughs.
"Is that so? Are you upset?"
"No. Do I gotta reason to be?"
"I know G-Unit was your guy group and now I'm in there---" the newest member of the G-Unit squad starts.
"Naw it's cool. Having you on the team only gonna make us stronger."
"Yea sweetheart. You the first lady of G-Unit. Gotta wear that title proud and stomp all those other females out."
"But ay, don't worry too much about the studio thing. It's all so new to you so of course you gonna be nervous. Just believe in yourself and your talent baby girl. Like Dré , Slim, and I do."
Olivia stays quiet for a while. She cannot believe that the tough man known as 50 Cent is saying these sweet and comforting things to her. Talking to him is making her feel extremely better. "Thank you Curtis."
"For what? I didn't do anything."
"You did a lot for me. I really appreciate it."
"We're homies now right?"
She lets out a cute laugh. "Yea."
"Well I gotta look out for my homies. Gotta have their backs."
"Thanks," Olivia repeats again, earnestly.
"No problem first lady of G-Unit. Where you at? Out here in LA?"
"New York. Dré wants me close by because I think they're going to set another date to go record."
"No doubt. This nigga wants these two albums wrapped as soon as possible."
"You and Lloyd Banks finish his album yet?"
"That's good. I have to go Curtis."
"Thank you again. It means a lot to me that you've accepted me into G-Unit."
"No doubt baby girl. You one of us now."
"Yea. I guess I'll talk to you later then."
50 Cent rests the phone next to his body on the chair and thinks about his conversation with Olivia. It does sound like she is going to be a real asset to G-Unit and he knows he is warming up to the idea of her more now than ever. Something inside him wants to protect her. Something is there; a subtle feeling prodding away at him. He knows it. He feels something for her but wonders why. It could just be because his personal life is such a mess right now and he needs some sort of stability. The buff rapper starts to explore his feelings but his stomach growls, interrupting him because he is hungry. After ordering dinner for himself, he looks at the day planner on his phone, trying to see when he is free to book the studio to finish Lloyd Banks' album. He really wants it to be before he leaves Los Angeles because then it will be one less thing he has to worry about. Figuring out a time that works for both him and the other rapper is where the problem lies. He regrets not finishing it when they had the chance. Things are so hectic.
Across the nights' sky, Lloyd Banks emerges from the bathroom, a towel adorned loosely around his slim waist. His tattooed skin is wet as he walks into the closet and tries to find something to wear to go out tonight. He has to make an appearance at a celebrity party in the Hollywood hills so he tries to get ready as quickly as possible because he knows he is already late. Removing the towel from his around his hips, the young rapper begins to dry all over his wet body. Once creamy lotion is applied all over his slim and toned body, he slips on a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers and fetches a belt before putting on a pair of black jeans. It shouldn't be a formal event and even if it were, he doesn't feel like dressing formal right now. The belt manages to adhere the jeans to his waist but barely and he sits on the bed, putting on a pair of socks. Getting his black Timberland boots from the closet, he puts them on and splashes a strong cologne over his naked upper body and polo shirt before putting it on and leaving his room.
Camera lights flash in a frenzy as the G-Unit rapper steps out of his limo and makes his way up to the massive mansion where the party is. The paparazzi are relentless, capturing every celebrity over and over again. Lloyd Banks is quite used to it by now so he strikes some poses for them so they can leave him alone later. The house is beautifully decorated and a waitress offers him a glass of champagne, which he accepts as he is walking in. The bubbles tickle his nose as he drinks some and walks into a huge crowd. Music is blasting from every angle and multicolored lights swirl and touch everything in range as the young rapper starts to mingle with people, his friends. The party is a success, boasting everyone from rappers to actors to high end executives. It's all about networking for most of the people present but Banks is just here to relax and enjoy himself. It feels good to get away from his thoughts for a couple hours. He is at the bar, still sipping his champagne when he sees someone coming up to him. He gulps his drink again.
"What's going on man?" Ludacris asks him in his strong southern accent.
"What you doing out here kid?" Lloyd Banks asks the other rapper as their hands catch in a shake.
"Chillin'. Never miss a good party."
"I feel ya."
"Ay, lemme get a double shot of vodka," he says to the bartender.
"Starting a lil' early aren't you nigga?"
"Whatever. So I hear through the grapevines you got a record in the works."
Banks laughs. "What grapevines you connected to kid?"
"Don't front. How's that shit soundin'?"
"Tight as hell."
"That nigga Fifty on there huh?"
"Yea. He produced some."
"What? Why you don't like Fifty? That's a cool nigga."
"What you jumpin' to conclusions fo`? I never said I didn't like that cat," the Atlanta DJ turned rapper says as he stares at Banks. "That's how shit gets started."
"You right," Banks says as he laughs. "This shit's gonna get me all over the papers tomorrow."
"Tryin' to start beef G-Unit boy?"
"Ay ay, chill with all that."
Ludacris gazes at the rapper for a moment before taking a seat at the bar next to him. "Speaking of, where yo G-Unit crew at? You rollin' without them?"
"Doing they thing. You make it seem like we go everywhere together nigga."
"How drunk are you Luda?"
"Not very. Some party though huh?"
"Oh yea. I'm having fun. Krug on the rocks," Banks tell the young bartender. "You entertaining."
"That's fucked up. I came over here outta mad respect and you gonna say shit like that to me?"
"What you getting all mad for? It was---"
"Chill. I get you," the Atlanta rapper says and laughs. "I'm having fun kickin' it with you. Even if you with G-Unot."
"Fuck you nigga," the young rapper laughs too. Something about Ludacris makes him feel comfortable and he likes it.
"But on the real, you got some tight rhymes. You good."
"I got respect for you too yo."
"Where yo boys at? No posse tonight?"
"Nah. They all off on their own. You know how it is. It's just me, myself, and I tonight."
"The night is still young kid. And there are plenty to choose from out here. A buffet."
"You right. We'll see what's going down. When we gonna jump on a track together kid?" Lloyd Banks hears himself ask. He is less than sober now.
"Sounds like a good idea to me. We'd kill it."
"No doubt!" the two men agree with a hi-five. "Aight kid. It's been fun but I'm gonna jump on the dance floor with a female," the G-Unit rapper says as he jumps up from his stool. He is hyper.
"Straight. Maybe this imaginary female of yours has a real friend for me."
"Oh fuck you! Shit ain't cool."
The two rappers laugh as they head into the thick crowd that is all over the dance floor. Lloyd Banks spots a girl amidst the chaos and approaches her for a dance. They dance sensually close to each other to the loud music before they start kissing. He does not expect it at first but gives in to it because it feels so good. Although he knows that she is most likely dancing with him because of who he is, it doesn't matter because he is having too good a time to care. It feels good to be wanted on some level, no matter how shallow it may be. The rapper is not going to let things get out of control though; it's all about having fun for him tonight. To forget everything that has been plaguing his mind for the past few months, especially 50 Cent. He wants the older rapper out of his head. Out of his struggling body. Him being there only manages to distract Banks and make him second guess himself always. As good as it was he sometimes wishes the night they spent together never happened. The complications of it will never let him free.
Lloyd Banks leaves the party alone in the early hours of the morning; he has an early morning talk show to be at in a couple of hours and he does not feel like dealing with the added drama of having a one night stand with his female companion from the party. It is added stress he does not need so he just does not go there. Both he and Ludacris found each other once again during the party and continued to have a good time relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Banks reflects on the southern rapper and the fun they had on his long ride home. It is refreshing to him to just go out and not have to worry about beefs or competition or any other thing along those lines that are usually in the back of his mind. The older rapper made him forget everything and he had a great time. The digital clock next to his bed notifies him that it is exactly three in the morning when he walks into his bedroom. The rapper needs to be at the studio at nine, after the show so he quickly undresses and hops to bed in his boxers. Sleep carries his body away.
The tired G-Unit member's body shuts down as soon as his head hits the soft pillow. The night's sky is motionless outside as random stray lights make their way into and out of his suite. His slim and toned upper body shines and revels in it, the tattoos on his skin seemingly coming to life and dancing on his naked torso. Lloyd Banks unknowingly grabs a pillow and presses it against his body as he continues to rest. It isn't long before the pillow is on the floor and his body shifts positions. Fantasy overtakes him. A beautifully decorated room comes into his view and he is lying on a comfortable bed, in a wifebeater and shorts. The puzzled young rapper sits up and looks around, not recognizing where he is. It is someone's house, this much he gathers. Large balcony doors leading to a patio show him the weather outside; snow. It is heavily snowing as he gets up and looks outside. Everything is blanketed in white as Banks tries to figure out where he is. He is unaware when someone stops in the doorway and is starting at him.
"You want a beer Chris man?" the rapper Ludacris asks as Banks is startled by him. He turns around and meets the other rapper's eyes, more confused than ever.
"Where are we? What you doing here nigga?" he begins with the questions.
The southern rapper laughs before saying, "This my house negro."
"What the hell? Why am I here?"
Ludacris sits on his bed. "Because I want you to be. So you want that beer?"
"No. I don't even know how I got here," he begins, never taking his eyes off of the rapper sitting on the bed.
"Chill Banks man. Just chill out. Relax."
"Come here. Sit here," Ludacris says, motioning next to him.
"Do you always ask so many questions G-Unit boy?"
"When I'm confused hell yea!"
He looks so inviting. Lloyd Banks figures the only way he will get any kind of answers is to do as he is told so he walks over and sits next Ludacris, but not too close. "What's going on?"
"You felt it too didn't you?" Ludacris asks as he eyes him.
"At that party."
"I dunno. Something's there. I know it."
The G-Unit rapper is more confused than ever now and is starting to get upset. "Felt what? What's there? What the hell are you talking---" He is cut off by the southern rapper swiftly moving forward and catching his lips in a kiss.
Banks enjoys it for a split second before pulling back, shocked and lost. "What the fuck was that? What are you doing?" he asks as he jumps up from the bed, his heart beating out of his chest.
"A kiss Chris. You never been kissed kid?"
"Not by a nigga hell naw! What the fuck's wrong with you?"
"Chill baby," Ludacris says in his sexy southern voice.
"Stop fucking calling me that! Nigga you insane!"
"So you gonna deny it?"
"What you felt at the party?"
"What did I feel at the party? You so sure of yourself."
"The same things I felt."
Ludacris looks away and thinks to himself. "Comfort. Intrigue. Passion."
"How you know I felt any of those things?"
"Just a hunch? I'm right huh?"
This is not happening to him. "I dunno---"
"Just say it," the southern rapper cajoles, getting up and walking toward him.
"Me too," Ludacris admits as he backs Lloyd Banks up into the wall. He extends his hand out and props his body onto it. His hand traps the other rapper there and they look into each other's eyes.
"This shit's all new to me."
"How'd you figure it out?"
"Because,' he toys with him.
Ludacris stops for a moment before moving in once again for what he wants. What somehow feels right to him. Their lips catch each other's once again and although the G-Unit member is still very confused by his surroundings right now, he lets it all go and kisses the man back. Their lips match perfectly together as the older man becomes slightly more aggressive, nibbling and sucking on Banks' lower lip. He allows himself to fall for everything because it feels so good. His mind barely starts comprehending the pleasure he is receiving from the other man; and it is only a simple kiss. He is a great kisser. The southern rapper moves both his hands over Lloyd Banks' waist, tugging at his wifebeater. He switches their positions and begins walking them back to the bed, their lips never missing each other's sensual touch. He slowly walks backward, letting Ludacris' body guide his, while his hands are still fondling with his tank top. They approach the bed and wait there for a second, looking at each other for answers that are not there.
"This isn't---" Banks begins to say.
"Shh," the southern rapper sexily says before gently pressing his index finger over the G-Unit rapper's soft, smooth lips. He gently rubs them with the tip of his finger for a moment.
He falls on top of Banks' slender body and continues kissing him, neither caring about common sense or the morality of right or wrong. Their bodies are far too hooked on pleasure to comprehend sane or normal thoughts. Ludacris balls up both his hands and presses them into the bed on either side of the other man's head for extra support and leverage as their kisses ignite with bliss. Tongues flicker out to touch and tease one another in a sinful game of lust. Lloyd Banks' arms are around the man's waist, working their way under his t-shirt and caressing the smooth skin of his back. A slight moan leaves his lips when both the older rapper's hands begin roaming his body. He knows all the right places to touch. The right things to do. The G-Unit member is a lost child in everything that is going on around him and all he knows is that his insides are screaming for more. More touches. More kisses. More feelings. Things quickly get out of control when he feels a hand snake down and grab his dick through the fabric of his shorts.