Pairing: Chris and Brian
Words: cuticle; decent; charmed; flexible
"I'm not putting a personal ad in the paper. And that's final." Chris looked around at his disinterested bandmates. "Do you hear me? You can't get me to lower myself to finding love through an impersonal meat market of pathetic losers on parade. You can't, you can't, you can't."
"We heard you," Lance said.
"Give it a rest," Justin added. "We've got better things to do than listen to you."
Chris feigned shock. "You take that back! You do not have better things to... have you been masturbating again, Curly?"
"Shut up."
"You have!" Chris crowed. "Did you think about me? I won't tell anyone."
"No, you'd take out a two page ad in Variety," Lance said drily.
"Exactly. Who reads that? Heck, who reads? A personal ad would be a waste of time."
"I like this one," JC said. He looked up from the newspaper. "'Gay white male, 27, seeks decent human being for sane relationship. Must be flexible, outgoing and charmed by nitwits.' I like him. He has a sense of humor."
Chris scowled. "Do I look sane to you?"
"No, but you are outgoing."
"And charmed by nitwits," Joey added helpfully.
"Am not."
Joey pointed at Justin, who yelped. "Hey! If anyone's a nitwit, it's... um..."
"Okay, so maybe you have a point."
"You should leave a message. There's a voice mail box."
"No. I'm not that pathetic--"
"Yes, you are."
Chris glared at Lance. "--and even if I was, I'm definitely not that hard-up."
JC looked at him reproachfully. "You felt me up this morning because you said I was coming on to you."
"You were!"
"I had a paper cut. I was sucking on my cuticle."
Joey and Justin snickered.
"It was an honest mistake. Anyone could have made it. Besides, if you weren't reading lame-ass personal ads, you wouldn't need to be giving your fingers head."
Joey handed him the phone. Justin stood over him, arms crossed. Lance blocked his exit. "You're calling."
"Hey! This is... this could be bad press. I mean, think of the headlines: 'NSYNC's Chris Kirkpatrick seeks sleazy gay love through newspapers'. Couldn't I just sleep with groupies? Or Lance or something?"
Lance picked up the phone, dialed it, and shoved the receiver in his hand. "Leave a message. Now."
Somewhere in his brain, that tone of voice was wired to obedience. Chris found himself nodding and stammering something only half-coherent into the phone.
"Good," Lance nodded when Chris hung up.
"But, but what if I get some kinky weird guy from that ad?"
"From that ad?" Lance raised his eyebrows.
Joey laughed. "You are kinky and weird."
"No, I mean, like what if it's some fundamentalist Christian gay guy, like, y'know, Brian Littrell or something?"
"Count your lucky stars and screw him through the mattress."
"Lance!"
"Oh, like you never thought of it."
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