Five

“That was a great show,” Chris told JC as they rode down in the elevator. “You were so on.”

“Caesar's is just a big piano bar,” JC bragged, but Chris knew he was proud of himself. Playing something like a casino club was totally different from playing a large arena.

“Ready to have some fun tonight?” Chris asked as they were escorted to a limo.

JC groaned. “I still can't believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“Okay, Lance? I need to ask you a favor,” Joey said, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Sure, Joey, what is it?” Lance put down his ham sandwich. The kitchen was so busy with preparations for the party that night that he hadn't wanted to bother Mrs. Lansing for a meal. The other men would be eating at the party.

“I, uh…” Joey sat down next to Lance. “Look. I know you're uncomfortable with what goes on here, even though you've seemed to fit right in. But I need something.”

“Okay,” Lance said slowly.

“Lonnie got a lot of people to help him out, but I was wondering if you'd kinda be on guard duty. Keep an eye on the lot next to the house, where cars will be parking, keep an eye on keeping things full, like ice and beer and stuff, just generally keep an eye on the little things. Lonnie and his guys can worry about security, and you'll be there to help with everything else.” Joey's brown eyes were begging. “I promise that you're not gonna see any kind of orgy; they'll take all that upstairs. But if you don't feel right, I understand.”

“No, Joe, that's fine,” Lance said, relieved. He picked up his sandwich. “Totally fine.”

“Thank you,” Joey said, releasing a breath he didn't know he had been holding. “You're a lifesaver.”

“Should I wear anything special?”

“Just comfy clothes…like jeans and a nice shirt or something, if you have one.”

“I don't,” Lance said apologetically.

“Hold on.” Joey slid back his chair and headed for the door. “JUSTIN!”

“What? I have to grab a shower, Joe,” Justin said, trotting down the hall to the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Lancey, how are ya?”

“Remember that short sleeved shirt your mom sent but you hated? The preppy one?”

“Yeah,” Justin said. “My mom thinks I work in an office,” he told Lance. “I can't bring myself to tell her the truth.”

“Doesn't she come visit?” Lance asked. Justin shook his head.

“No, I go out to her. Why do you need the shirt?” Justin asked Joey.

“Lance needs it. He's helping out tonight,” Joey said.

“Oh, good!” Justin's face lit up. “You can watch me work a room, Lancey.”

“Just get the shirt,” Joey said, smacking at Justin's behind. Justin laughed and left the kitchen. 

Joey had been right, Lance decided as he did another sweep of the parking area. It was just like a big…dance. Men of all legal ages were streaming into the house, some staying for a while, some leaving almost immediately. Lonnie and his cousins kept a close eye on everyone coming and going, and there didn't seem like there was going to be any trouble…until a limo pulled up.

It was about midnight, and Lance was surprised that someone would be arriving this late. Most of the people were already inside who were planning on actually “conducting business,” and he knew that Lonnie was hoping to give his guys a break. Lance leaned on a car and looked at the limo. Two men got out, one short, one tall and thin. He didn't recognize them, though the tall one looked vaguely familiar. 

“Oh, my God,” Justin gasped as he saw two men enter the foyer. “Oh, my God.”

“What is it?” Howie asked. He just happened to be near Justin's side.

“That's JC Chasez!”

“No, it isn't.” Howie took a closer look. “Oh, God, yeah, it is.”

They watched Joey hurry over to shake JC's hand, as well as the hand of the man who was with him. “If Nick even goes over there,” Justin began to grumble, but Nick had his hands full with another customer. Joey scanned the room and found Justin. He gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head, and Justin practically yelped with joy. 

“Looks normal enough,” Chris said as he and JC got out of the limo.

“Looks like a gay frat party,” JC observed. He followed Chris to the house, where they were greeted by a man in a black suit.

“Hi, I'm Joey Fatone, I own the place,” Joey said, shaking their hand.

“Chris Kirkpatrick, we spoke on the phone,” Chris said.

“And JC Chasez. Very nice to meet you,” Joey said. JC nodded, but his eyes flitted around the room. “Not what you expected?”

“No,” JC said.

“It never is. We run a clean place, and everyone who works here is healthy and safe,” Joey said.

“Do you work as well?” JC asked, and Joey laughed.

“No, sorry. Straight.”

“So's Chris. You two can chat,” JC said. He almost looked disappointed. He liked men who looked like they could do a hard day's labor, not little pansy-ass girlie men.

Joey looked around and found Justin, giving the signal for him to come over. “Let's get you something to eat and drink. I know you just drove out from Vegas.” Justin walked over and Joey put an arm around him. “This is Justin…one of our more popular boys.”

“Hi, Mr. Chasez,” Justin said, obviously impressed.

“Hello, Justin. Man, I could eat a horse,” JC said. Justin dimpled at him, took his hand, and led him to the buffet. Chris let out a sigh of relief. 

When Lance got up the next morning, he was surprised to see that the parking lot was still half-full. Joey would be happy with the money that had been made. Lance went down to the kitchen, where Mrs. Lansing was making her infamous pancakes. “Morning,” Lance said, getting his juice and coffee.

“Morning, honey. Looks like the party was a success. Celebrities and everything.” Mrs. Lansing handed him a plate.

“Was that who came in the limo?” Lance asked.

“Mr. Joey said it was some singer…JC something?”

“Oh, JC Chasez. I've heard him on the radio,” Lance said. “He can really sing. Wow. He was here?” Lance was surprised. “I bet you ten to one he ended up with Justin.”

Mrs. Lansing laughed. “I bet you're right, honey, if Justin had any say in it.”

Lance whistled as he washed his hands after breakfast. Joey hadn't said he couldn't work, even if there were special guests in the house. Lance didn't see the limousine anywhere, so he wondered if JC Chasez and the other man had left before the party was over. Lance was surprised to see the other man leaning against the shed, looking out across the yard of the house.

“Can I help you, sir?” Lance asked.

“Oh, sorry. Is this off limits or something?”

“I don't think so,” Lance said, hooking his tool belt around his waist.

“You don't work inside?”

“Uh, no,” Lance said, blushing. “I'm Lance. I'm, uh, the handyman, I guess.”

“I'm Chris Kirkpatrick, JC Chasez's manager,” Chris said. Lance nodded.

“So, he's inside?” Lance asked. Chris nodded. “Your limo…”

“We'll call for it when he's up,” Chris said. “Apparently your boss has a rule about guests being out by ten, but I bet he'll make an exception. Everyone makes exceptions about JC.”

“I see,” Lance said. “Well, I need to work, so…”

“Don't let me stop you.” Chris moved a few feet, but didn't go back inside. 

JC looked at the boy next to him in the bed and smiled. He was going to like Nevada. Not only was the food good and the party intimate and discreet, but this Justin was amazing. He could see why he was so popular. He had an athletic, limber body, and he seemed to actually enjoy the sex, which JC hadn't expected a prostitute to do. Plus there was the fact that he was beautiful to look at…

JC got up and stretched, carefully climbing out of bed. It was only eight-thirty, yet he felt totally refreshed. He pulled on his boxer shorts and went to the window, kneeling on the floor so he could look out. He knew that this wasn't Justin's bedroom; Justin had informed him that the rooms on this floor were for “entertaining” only. JC pushed the curtains aside and realized he was looking down on the yard and shed. He saw Chris leaning against the shed, talking to someone. The other man was blond, with pale skin and muscular arms. He worked as he talked to Chris, his blond hair glistening in the sun. JC gulped and looked back at the bed. He had a gorgeous boy just waiting to let him fuck him again, but he couldn't take his eyes off the man working by the shed. 

“Hey, Jayce!” Chris called to the figure walking across the yard. “What are you doing up?”

“I'm done sleeping,” JC said simply. He wore a tshirt and jeans, and a pair of sandals. Lance looked up briefly and then continued with his work, obviously not all that impressed.

“Lance, this is JC Chasez,” Chris announced. Lance expected a flourish of trumpets by the tone of Chris' voice. Lance stood up and held out a dirty hand.

“Hello,” Lance said. JC gingerly took the hand, then wiped his own palm on his thighs. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too,” JC said indifferently. “Are we leaving or what? I'm tired.”

“You could have stayed in bed with your new friend Justin,” Chris teased. Lance smiled. So Justin had won the big prize.

“He's not my friend. And I want to go back to our hotel,” JC almost pouted. Chris pulled out a cellphone. Lance went back to his work as Chris called the hotel. JC looked at Lance. “You don't work inside?”

“Uh, no,” Lance said, blushing as he always did. “I work out here.”

“I see. You don't look the type, anyway,” JC said.

“You're absolutely right,” Lance said, wondering why he was actually offended.

“Well, they'll be here in a half hour,” Chris said, slapping his phone shut.

“There's breakfast set up in the dining room, I'm sure,” Lance said.

“Thanks, Lance. See you.” Chris started for the house.

“It was nice meeting you,” Lance said politely. JC nodded once and turned to follow Chris.

Six