The Time---1934
The Cast of Characters---(in order of appearance)
Christopher (Babyface) Kirkpatrick
"Fat Lou" Perlman
Juju (Mad Dog) Timberlake
Joey (Muscles) Fatone
Lance Bass, Cub Reporter
...and a supporting cast of -- none, today. Trust me, we don't need 'em.
* * * * * * *
It was 7:45 Monday evening, and Chris was just going upstairs, when Jimmy the Weasel caught him by the arm. "Hold up, " he said. "I wanna talk with ye's."
"What about?"
"Come 'ere," Jimmy nodded to a particularly private booth in the back of the club. He sat down heavily, and pulled out a cigar, and proceeded to light up. "It's almost eight o'clock. I understand JC Chasez is payin' you a visit tonight."
"Yeah. We left it like, anytime after eight..."
"Well, if I know him, he'll be here at 7:59."
Chris couldn't help a silly grin stealing over his face. "Ya think?"
Jimmy tilted his head back, and blew up a smoke ring. "Oh, yeah."
As Jimmy didn't seem to feel the need to go into more detail, Chris began to fidget. "Well, now that we have my night's schedule nailed down, I really wanna get upstairs, and ya know, get ready and stuff..."
Jimmy suddenly leaned forward, and put his big beefy hand over Chris'. "Listen, Babyface. JC Chasez is a very important man in this town. He can be your best friend, or your worst enemy. I prefer him to be my friend. Capish?"
"Not really."
"When JC Chasez leaves your room tonight, I'm gonna pull out a ruler, and if his smile isn't a full six inches wide, I'm gonna take it out on your ass." Chris' eyes widened in sheer disbelief at what he was hearing.
"That's funny, cause I'm gonna RAM that ruler up YOUR ass, if you think you're gonna threaten me." Chris got up furiously. "Who do you think you're talking to? I know my job, and I don't need *anyone* telling me how to do it. Screw you, Jimmy. If you don't---"
"Shh, shh," Jimmy said, completely unperturbed by Chris' outburst. "No need to say things we'll both regret. I have impugned your professionalism, and for that I apologize. I have perfect faith in your abilities, Babyface."
"Then what are you gettin' all weird on me for?" Chris frowned. "I don't like this, Jimmy, I don't like it all. So Twinkletoes has got you pee-in' in your pants. So what? To me, he's just another john. And that's what I'll treat him like. If you don't like it, if HE don't like it, you can both kiss my ass. And that's the end of THAT scene!" Giving Jimmy one last parting look of daggers, Chris made for the stairs yet again.
It was 8:15, and Chris was alone in his room, still pacing back and forth. Jimmy's remarks still rankled, and Chris was imagining himself kicking Jimmy down the stairs. This helped, somewhat.
By 8:30, Chris had shrugged off his jacket, and loosened his tie. He was no longer mad at Jimmy. Now he paced desultorily about his room, wondering why he'd never noticed before how sparely, and shabbily it was furnished.
By 8:45, Chris had dug his notebook out of the bottom drawer of his dresser, and was perched on his only chair. He decided to work on scene 3 of Act II. The dialogue definitely needed punching up.
By 9:00, the notebook was still lying on the floor where Chris had tossed it, and he was still lying on the bed, where he'd tossed himself. He had just decided that the water stain on the ceiling looked more like a Komodo dragon, than an Egyptian crocodile.
By 9:15, Chris had moved on to cursing fluently, and imagining all the cutting things he would say to Mr. JC "So Important" Chasez. He would bring him down a peg or two. There were still a FEW people in this town who didn't tremble at his name, and he was gonna give him SUCH an earful---
BLAM! The door was kicked in, and like a glowing, sweating phantom, JC Chasez filled the doorway. "Did ja start without me?" he panted.
Chris narrowed his eyes. "As a matter of fact, I did. I had a great time, and that'll be ten bucks." He held his hand out.
Chasez laughed breathlessly, and entered the room, slamming the door shut behind him. "You have no idea, no IDEA, what I had to go through, to get here," he stopped for more air, "tonight."
Chris looked him up and down. "A fight, it looks like."
Chasez waved the thought away. "Business. Just some business."
"I thought that was what Muscles was for."
"Wait'll you SEE Muscles! You think I look roughed up...."
Chris was looking doubtfully at Twinkletoes. He'd never seen him like this. And it wasn't just the heat radiating off him, and his dissheveled clothes, and scrapes on his face---it was the look in his eyes. Like someone who'd fought a tremendous battle, and won against all odds---and who now wanted to claim the spoils of victory. Instinctively, Chris put a hand out, and began backing up.
But adrenaline will do funny things to your speed, reflexes, and strength. Before he knew what hit him, Chris was enfolded tightly in JC's arms, and was having the daylights kissed out of him. After a shocked moment, Chris began to try to push him away. JC didn't seem to notice. His tongue was everywhere, and Chris felt dizzy--maybe it was because JC seemed to be bending him backwards, or was that him pulling away so hard?
"Stop!" Chris finally managed to get out.
"Don't wanna," was all the reply he got, and things got overwhelming again. Chris became aware of JC's hand cupping the back of his thigh, as he half-lifted, half-pushed Chris back onto the bed.
"Whoa, whoa," Chris pulled his mouth away to protest. "Listen to me, Twinkletoes, this bed is just for sleeping. I mean it!" They were both on the bed, initially looking more like two brothers rough-housing than any thing else, any minute one of them exclaiming in triumph, "Pinned ya!"
Chris put both hands on either side of JC's face, and physically removed his lips from his own. "Stop for one minute, and listen to me!"
Dazed, JC's blue eyes struggled to focus. "Whaa...?"
"This is the same argument I had with Perlman. I--I---try to understand. This isn't a smorgasboard. It's not whatever you want. I do one thing, and one thing only. I do blowjobs. And I do 'em better than anybody else."
"Is that a promise?"
"Hell, yeah! Money back guarantee, if you're not completely satisfied. So let me up, and pull your pants down, and I'll give you SUCH a blowjob, you'll be crying like a baby---" Suddenly, JC seemed very focused, as he stared down at Chris.
"So everybody gets a blowjob from Babyface."
"Yeah."
JC was shaking his head. "I ain't everybody."
Chris sighed. Why was he being so difficult? "I never said you were."
"I want something different. I want---something no one else has ever had."
"Well," Chris said slowly, and clearly, as if explaining something to a very young child, "you ain't getting it."
JC's face changed. He no longer looked like an ardent lover, but a ruthless businessman, who had never yet been thwarted in his designs. "It's all about control, isn't it, Babyface?" He pulled up, and sat back on his heels, looking down at Chris. "You think I don't know? You hate what you do, but for some reason, and I'm guessing it has to do with the photograph on your dresser, the one that's always put face down, you feel like you have to keep doing this. So at least, you can draw the line in here, and say what you will and will not do. That's right, isn't it. This the most money you can make?" Chris looked like he'd been sucker-punched.
"Fine, if it's all about the dollar, we can do that, too," and JC began pulling out bills. When he'd made a huge pile on the bed, by flicking them out of their neatly folded stacks, and watching them flutter down, he stole a look at Chris.
"Are those---fifties? Is that a---a Hundred?" Chris whispered.
"Lots of 'em are hundreds. You want 'em?" Chris was too busy staring to reply. "I said---do you want them?"
After a very long moment, and JC held his breath, Chris looked up at him, and nodded. "Yeah. I do."
"Okay, then," JC said. "We're on MY dime, now, and *I* say what we're gonna do.. Not you. Get it?" Chris licked his dry lips, and just nodded. As JC pushed him back on the bed, Chris had only one question.
"Why?"
Chasez loomed above him, supported on his straight arms. "Why? Why what? Why do you *suppose*?"
"No, I mean. Why so much money? I mean---why so MUCH?"
JC sighed, and lowered himself, sweeping in for a lick across Chris' jawline, who shivered slightly, at the unaccustomed touch. "Stupid,' he murmured gently. "Because I knew money would work." He began licking up into Chris' sideburn, enjoying the texture of rough hair against soft skin. "If ROSES would've worked, I'd have covered your bed in roses." He began to nibble on Chris' earlobe. "But you're such a whore...I knew money was the only thing that I could use....funny little--CUTE little-- whore... My whore." And Chris began to tremble.
