Black & Red Plaid

Just something inspired by recent events. Also Em/Lance is boss.

Blue eyes bat, and this time the window isn't leaking sun in their faces. Someone must have had the courtesy to close the curtains. He rolls over and finds another warm body, much like his own. He slides his hands around the other man's hips, deciding that the strange tattoo on his back wasn't too bad of ink. It had looked like a blob in the past, a little childhood mistake, that was fortunately placed on a normally clothed area. Lines were a bit squiggly, and the coloring could have been better. But things as such were endearing. Sort of an 'oh, what were you thinking' type deal. And it was cute, for the most part. Then it occurred to him, that the bull on his lover's back wasn't just a bull itself, but the Taurus symbol. Yes, that was probably it. He wondered why he had never bothered to ask. He scooted closer, to be more snug, and rested his head on the bull. Then he peeped around, finally eying the shirt hanging in the closet.

"A Taurus is no stranger to dedication and humble assistance," some said.

__________

"So...what do you need this for again, hmm?" Lance stretched out his plaid, black and red shirt. Marshall sneaked up behind him and let his arms snake around Lance's waist. He gave him a quick, wet kiss, feeling a sudden blush.

"I already told ya," he mumbled into stubbly skin.

"Alright, there is no way you're wearing this to an interview, babe." He broke free from the grip and flung the sleeves around Marshall's neck, pulling him towards him. He graced his thumb over dark freckles, and stared into the pools of blue above them. "Not that I wouldn't love to see it," he chuckled.

Marshall pulled the sleeves off of his bare shoulders, and quickly slipped the shirt on, leaving the buttons undone. He lightly twirled around a little bit, feeling up the shirt. It was pretty snug around his arms, and didn't hug his waist or anything. Had a nice collar.

"You don't think it's very 'me'?" he asked somewhat honestly. It wasn't that bad. He could wear it around the house. It complimented his bright eyes, and dark hair. Even his not-so-macho-freckles fit in quite nicely.

Lance wrapped his hands around Marshall's sides, and smiled excitedly, nuzzling his face into his neck. He giggled a little before looking up at him.

"I think it's nice."

"Oh, do you?" Marshall said in a husky voice before lifting Lance's face up to kiss him. Lance let out a breathy chuckle, and then their mouths fit together with a quiet moan. Lance was feeling brave, so he tried to lick at Marshall's mouth, pleading for his tongue to enter and explore. His face scrunched up in delight as their tongues began to feel the caverns of each other's mouths. Marshall went to shrug off his shirt went he felt a hand keep it on his shoulders.

"Ah," Lance pulled their lips apart. "Keep it on."

__________

Lance quickly glanced at his cell phone, and recognized a familiar face on the collar ID.

"Em?" he said in a chipper voice.

"Go to channel 216."

"Why, you on?"

"You could say that."

The music video started just a few seconds after Marshall had called.

"Oh my god."

Author's Note

If you have no idea what's going on, first of all, shame on you. Secondly, go ahead and look up Slaughterhouse's video, 'My Life'. It should make a least a little more sense. :D