Four

“It was amazing!” The young redhead said. “He's so fucking incredible. His dick, man…”

“Ohhhkay,” the shorter man said, laughing. “Let's get you into a cab.” He motioned to a large bodyguard.

“But you'll give him my number, right? He said he loved me! He'll call me, I know it! I'm a great lay,” the redhead persisted.

“Got your number in my pocket. You have a great life.” The short man turned and headed back to the hotel room door once he had passed his baggage onto the bodyguard. He knocked, then swiped the keycard through the reader. “What the hell was THAT?”

“Oh, Chris…wanna drink?” A thin figure on the sofa slurred, holding up a glass.

“For God's sake, Josh, get some clothes on.” Chris picked up a pair of jeans and tossed them towards the sofa.

“Are these even mine?” He sat the glass down and sat up slowly.

“I hope so,” Chris snapped. “Josh, you can't keep doing that. He wants to give you his number. He was telling me about your dick!”

“It IS nice,” Josh said admiringly, looking down at himself. “It does a lot of good in the world.”

“God,” Chris said, annoyed. “One of these days we're gonna get one who doesn't keep his mouth shut, and your career is over.”

“Christopher, I am a millionaire. I have more gold albums than I can count. I'm an international star. I am also one hundred percent out of the closet and everyone knows it.” Josh stood up, zipping himself into the tight jeans.

Chris had to admit that if he had swung that way, he'd be drooling over JC Chasez. He was long and lean and pretty, and had a voice like an angel. He had an amazing creative mind, and not only did he write gold albums for himself, but co wrote with other performers as well. But being his manager, partner, and all around babysitter was hard enough, without throwing a relationship into it. Chris was grateful yet again that he was straight. “You're not even that drunk,” Chris pointed out. “You know better.”

“Chris, I am a young American male. I deserve to get laid just like everyone else,” JC said, stretching and smiling at Chris. “You'd deprive me of sex?”

“Of course not. But you need to be more discreet! I know everyone knows you're gay. I know that you deserve to get a piece of ass, just like any other famous person,” Chris said before JC could start up the old argument. “But this…Josh, I hate having to deal with them once you kick them out. It's a pain in the ass.”

“I'm sorry, Chrissy.” JC put an arm around Chris and kissed his cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“You'd be penniless and no one would know your name, that's what,” Chris said, squirming slightly.

“Do I make you horny, baby?” JC purred into Chris' ear. Chris gave a laugh and pulled away.

“Puhleeze, Chasez. I've known you for fifteen years, and you've never given me a boner.”

“Maybe I have…maybe I can be the one to turn you to the Pink Side,” JC cooed, chucking Chris under the chin.

“The Pink Side? How quaint,” Chris snorted. “You need sleep, and then we need to talk about this tomorrow.”

“There's nothing to talk about!” JC sighed, heading for the bedroom.

“Look, JC, we're booked at Caesar's for a week. There's NO way I'm letting you drag groupies into your room every night,” Chris said sternly. “I'll find a way to get you some, okay? Just promise me you'll behave.”

“Fine,” JC pouted. “I'm not some nympho, Chris, I promise! I just…I get lonely.” JC flopped onto his bed. Chris stood in the doorway.

“I know you do, Jayce. And I'm on your side in this, I swear. I just don't want you making the wrong decision and getting hurt.”

JC smiled slowly, a ray of light that warmed Chris through and through. “Thank you, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Josh. I'll see you in the morning.”

“And quit calling me Josh!” JC yelled as Chris closed the bedroom door. 

“What's this?” JC looked at the piece of paper on his plate.

“Eat up, babe. We gotta get on the bus and move it on out to Vegas,” Chris instructed, his own plate full of eggs and sausage.

JC wrinkled his nose at the greasy mixture, and carefully placed a bagel, cream cheese and fruit on his own plate, after removing the paper. “What is it?”

“Eat while you read,” Chris ordered. “Damn, I can never get used to room service. Love it!”

JC obediently spread cream cheese on his bagel, then began to read. He choked on his second bite of bagel. “Chris, this is a…”

“Yeah, it is!” Chris said cheerfully. “Hurry up, Jayce!”

“Chris, this is a whorehouse.”

“It isn't, really. I mean, it's selective and classy and it's discreet. DISCREET, Joshua,” Chris said sternly. “You can stay the night there, and I don't have to get anyone a cab and listen to any more stories about your penis.”

“But…losers go to whorehouses!” JC whined. Chris raised an eyebrow. JC never whined. “I mean, it looks like I can't get my own piece.”

“Do this. For me,” Chris said softly. JC frowned. Chris never asked for ANYTHING. “It's outside the city, it's LEGAL, and we know you're safe. There's some sort of party the first night you're there. Let's just check it out, okay?”

“You'll come along?” JC asked.

“Of course,” Chris said. He wasn't missing this for the world.

Five