I Bet You Think This Song Is About You

youre just like a dream

"Come here." Trent said, looking up from the computer.

"Did I do something?" Marilyn replied hesitantly.

"No, of course not, just come here."  Trent pushed the chair back, standing up from it slowly.

The studio was mostly empty and the rest of the band had gone home.  Marilyn and Trent were the only ones left.  The room was darkening; the hallway lights had been turned off several hours ago.  They always turned off at 11 at night.  Marilyn stood up from the chair he'd been sitting in in front of the keyboard in.  He walked over to Trent, standing in front of him.  He leaned down so their eyes would make contact; sometimes Marilyn hated being so much taller than Trent.  It made Trent cute to manhandle and fuck, but made it nearly impossible to look him directly in the pretty eyes when he was standing.

"I'm proud of you, you know."  Trent said softly, pulling Marilyn close into a hug, resting his face on the taller man's shoulder.

"Why?"

"I met a shy, awkward kid who didn't know that his music was any good, and now I'm holding a tall, handsome man about to wreck the world with the best industrial metal album in history."  Trent leaned his head back, smiling at Marilyn with genuine warmth in his face.

"I'm not handsome-"  Marilyn started and Trent stood up on his toes, softly planting a kiss on Marilyn's lips.

"You don't look how people expect a handsome man to look, but you are."  Trent hugged Marilyn tightly.

Marilyn felt like he was going to cry.  He buried his nose in the top of Trent's soft, dark hair.  Never had anyone he'd been with said something so sweet to him, with such truth and conviction.  He always felt like people tolerated his looks for his intelligence or talent, but not Trent. 

"I like your eyes.  I think they're warm.  And your brow is strong, and your lips look soft, and they are soft.  And your jaw is angular and so are your cheeks, and your nose is strong and when I kiss it you squinch your face up like a little cat-"  Trent trailed off, and bit his lip, blushing deeply, "Sorry."

"No, it's okay."  Marilyn hugged Trent tightly again, rubbing one large hand on his back, "I think it's sweet.  I think you're sweet."

"I love you."  Trent said it hesitantly, and Marilyn hated himself for putting Trent in the position where he wasn't sure Marilyn would say it back.

"I love you too."  Marilyn said assuredly, kissing Trent on the cheek.

"I'm ready for bed."  Trent said softly.

"Let's go home-"

"I don't want to leave you."  Trent said, his voice weighted with intensity showing he meant the statement in a deeper way.

"-together."  Marilyn smiled, his eyes uncharacteristically gentle.

"Take me to your place."  Trent sighed, burying his face in Marilyn's chest, "Take me home with you."

"Come home with me, then, baby."  Trent had become soft and pliable and Marilyn pulled his body close, then lifted Trent up into his arms like a bride, suddenly.

Trent gasped when his feet left the ground, and he threw his arms up around Marilyn's neck, hugging him close.

"You're just like heaven."  Trent sighed.

"Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick..."  Marilyn sang quietly, and Trent blushed.

"The one that makes me laugh, he said," Trent quipped, "And threw his arms around my neck."

Marilyn leaned down and kissed Trent's mouth gently.  Layers were being stripped away; toughness, harshness, anger, and sadness.  What was left?  Love, and truth, and beauty.  And there was Trent, warm and comfortable to hold; rough sometimes, but soft in other ways.  Marilyn had never felt there to be a light in the darkness like this before.  Before, it had always been a trick, and it had always been Marilyn Manson holding a body close to his, but as Brian Warner leaned down again to kiss Trent Reznor's lips softly for the second time in that minute, conscious of the feeling of muscular forearms pulling against the back of his neck, he knew that this was special.  Brian, or Marilyn, or whichever part was showing, would never feel love this way again, and he knew it, and he knew that whatever Trent did to him, he'd let it happen, because he'd do anything for Trent.  He would do anything Trent asked him to, anything Trent wanted, and anything Trent needed.  

As their lips melted together like wax spreading across a metal candle holder, Brian felt the harsh tug of love pulling on the strings of his heart.  It hurt, and it pulled, and it made his stomach jump.  It made him feel so strongly that he wouldn't pass it up for anything.  His stomach jumped so often with happiness, too. 

"I'll say it first."  Brian spoke softly, "I love you."

"Brian."  Trent whispered, shutting his eyes as Marilyn kissed him sweetly again.

"Please don't be afraid." Brian whispered, "I'm not afraid to tell you I love you anymore."

"Good." Trent's arms tightened around the back around Brian's neck.

They were close to each other, the room was warm, and everything was alright for a moment at least.

A/N: hey, it's posted on archive of our own as well