By Trixie

Chris leaned back against the bar and smiled. "Now this is what I call a party."

"You said it," answered AJ, who was slouched against the bar next to him. He raised his water-bottle and tapped it against Chris' beer bottle in salute. "'Bout time they had something like this."

This was Elton John's super-secret, we-could-tell-you-but-then-we'd-have-to-kill-you, All-Queer VMA Afterparty. It was worth the price of admission just to see and be seen, and to get a front-row seat to some of the drama being played out on the dance floor. Just a few minutes earlier, security had broken up a scuffle between Sting and Bono. It was hard to hear over the music, but Chris was pretty sure it had something to do with who was bigger. Chris wasn't real clear on whether they were discussing penis size or ego. Down at the end of the bar, Janeane Garafalo had challenged Melissa Etheridge to a drinking contest and Chris was pretty sure that the winner would be taking Pink home.

"Your boys are missing all the fun," Chris said, nodding at a table in the corner where Howie and Nick had been making out like a couple of teenagers at Inspiration Point for the past two hours, only coming up for air when Lance passed by their table saying loudly to the guy following him around, "I'm telling you dude, I don't care how many sparkles you have on your suit, I'm not interested. Go pick on someone your own age."

AJ shrugged, but grinned fondly at his bandmates before turning back to Chris. "So, Kirkpatrick, what are you in the market for tonight? It's a smorgasbord out there." He waved his water out in front of him to indicate the entire room.

"Oh, I have plans, dude." Chris bounced a bit on his barstool, one leg jiggling non-stop, in anticipation of his plans. "Big plans. But my entertainment for the evening hasn't shown up yet."

"Sounds intriguing."

"It will be. What about you? What's on the menu?"

"Haven't decided yet. Don't know what I'm in the mood for."

"Hey dude," Justin walked up, clapping Chris on the shoulder. "McLean," he nodded at AJ before waving to the bartender. "Red Bull and Vodka."

"Timberlake," AJ nodded back. "Enjoying the party?"

"I would be if fucking Carson would stop hitting on me. I swear to god, I'm gonna have to throw down if he tries to touch my ass one more time."

Chris and AJ both cracked up, and Justin smacked them both in the head. "It's not funny, yo. Who the fuck let him in here anyway? He may be a cocksucker, man, but he's like the opposite of gay."

"Would that be straight?" AJ asked.

"Nah. He'd give straight a bad name. Whatever, he's a fucking tool." Justin took his drink from the bartender and turned to Chris. "You seen Lance?"

Chris shook his head. "Not for a while. Last I saw, he was fending off Gene Simmons."

"Okay…. eew."

"Hey, respect your elder's, infant," Chris snapped. "KISS is completely cool."

"Guy's old enough to be my grandfather. It's gross."

"You're going to be old one day, Timberlake," AJ said, looking at Justin over his sunglasses. "Thirty years from now, you're gonna be trotted out at the VMAs dressed up in the old sparkly pants to sing Bye, Bye, Bye yet again, and some hot-shit little twink will laugh in your face when you hit on him."

"Yeah. You wanna fuck him?"

AJ laughed. "No."

"So shut the fuck up." He turned back to Chris. "Seriously, someone should go save Lance. Where the fuck is Joey?"

Chris had to laugh. Justin seemed to be under the impression that Joey was Lance's keeper and vice versa-- an impression that annoyed Lance to no end, but amused Joey in some weirdly twisted way. Neither of them had yet been able to convince Justin otherwise.

"You have met our Lance, right?" Chris asked sarcastically. "He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. And last I saw Joey, he was wielding the Fatone charm on Michael Rosenbaum."

"Who?" AJ asked.

"Bald guy from Smallville. Joey's a little fixated," Chris explained and AJ just nodded.

"What are you doing anyway?" Justin asked. "You just gonna mope here at the bar all night cause your boy ain't showing up."

"He'll show."

Justin opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by an arm snaking around his waist from behind. "Carson, I swear to god…" he growled, but stopped when he saw who it was. His scowl turned into a grin that made Chris roll his eyes.

"Hey, dirty," Nelly said, leaning up to kiss Justin. "Been lookin' for ya."

"You found me, yo." Justin slung an arm over Nelly's shoulder and slouched into him. "What you gonna do with me, baby?"

"Mmm," Nelly hummed and mumbled into Justin's ear, which made him blush and grin even bigger.

Justin nodded and said, "Let's get the fuck out of here, yeah?" He set his drink down on the bar and grinned at Chris and AJ. "See you losers later."

When they were gone, AJ shook his head. "Jesus."

"Yeah," Chris nodded, watching them leave the party, bumping fists with a few acquaintances on the way. "Ghetto love. Don't it just make your heart sing?"

"Um… no." Chris wasn't so sure he appreciated the sarcasm in AJ's tone. Sure, he could rag on Justin about his rapper-crush all he wanted, but it didn't seem right to let a Backstreet boy get away with it.

"Okay, what the fuck is Chasez up to?" AJ asked, gaping at the dance floor.

Chris turned to look and grinned at what he saw. JC was slow dancing, moving like sex, and wrapped tightly around Bjork. Sometimes Chris tended to forget all the reasons why he absolutely adored JC, but it didn't take long for JC to do something to remind him. The freak had a really twisted sense of humor when he wanted to.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think it has something to do with the only way for him to be queer at this party would be for him to mack on a girl." Chris shrugged. "He has a thing about labels. He also covets the swan dress."

"Shit. You guys are weird fucks, you know that?"

"Sour grapes, man. You know you wish you were in *NSYNC."

AJ nearly spit his water out, he was laughing so hard. "Thanks, but no thanks. On the other hand," he said, tilting his head as he watched JC dance, "I might be interested in getting inside that one."

"I'd love to see you try," Chris said, but was pretty sure all it would take from AJ was the crook of his finger. JC had a thing for tattoos and attitude. He wasn't about to tell AJ that though.

"Not tonight though. I'm in the mood for something else." He looked around the room, eyes flitting from one group of rockers and actors to the next until he finally zeroed in on something he was interested in. "Yeah, definitely in the mood for boy-next-door."

"Who?" Chris squinted across the room, wishing again that he'd worn his damn glasses to this thing. His vision cleared enough to see who AJ was looking at. "Dave Matthews!?"

"Mm hmm," AJ practically purred. "Love his voice, man."

"Whatever floats your boat, dude. I don't see it."

"All the more for me, right?" AJ stood up and grinned at Chris. "Enjoy the rest of the party, Kirkpatrick. I hope your mystery man shows up."

"He will. Don't worry."

He watched AJ cross the room towards Dave and couldn't help a shiver. Fucker could slink even better than JC. His view of the proceedings were cut off prematurely when Lance showed up, blocking his view.

"Hey Chris," Lance chirped-- well, as much as it was possible for a bass to chirp-- and Chris looked up to see pink cheeks, swollen lips, and hair even more disheveled than usual. Lance sat down carefully on the stool that AJ had vacated and continued to grin like he'd just signed a million dollar contract or something.

"Lance," Chris answered. "What have you done?"

"Mmm," he hummed, the deep vibration of it giving Chris goosebumps. "Not much." He rubbed a hand down the inside of his thigh unconsciously. "This and that."

"You got laid. A lot." There was really no question of the fact. A couple of really good orgasms was the only thing that made Lance this loose and happy. "You finally corner Ben Affleck?"

"Uh, no," Lance muttered and looked around the room nervously, blushing. There was a faint smear of white along the side of Lance's throat. Shit.

"No fucking way. You fucked Gene S…!"

Lance slapped his hand over Chris' mouth. "Do you need to tell the whole room?" he hissed. "And besides, I didn't fuck him."

"He fucked you? Holy shit, Bass."

"Chris. Man, you have no idea." Lance shuddered and his eyes glazed over for a few seconds. "That tongue."

"Oh my god."

"Let's just say, I don't really need to go to Russia now, because I have already been rimmed into outer space."

"Fuck!" Chris jumped off his stool and scrubbed at his temples. "I did not need that image in my head. Jesus, fuck."

Lance chuckled deeply and stood up. "I'm gonna go peel Joey off of Lex Luthor and take him home. You leaving?"

"Nope." Chris shook his head vigorously. "I got plans."

"Chris, he's not gonna show up."

"Yes, he is. The boy can't resist me."

Lance raised an eyebrow at Chris, obviously trying to decide whether it was worth arguing about. Finally he shrugged. "Whatever. Good luck with it." With that he turned and wandered off in search of Joey, walking a bit like he'd spent a few hours on the mechanical bull and then had a full body massage.

Chris sat back down and turned to ask the waiter for another beer. He was staying away from anything harder because his plans required that he not be at all impaired. The waiter handed him his beer and he dropped a sizable tip on the bar and spun back around on his stool. AJ winked at him as he walked by, Dave Matthews in tow, body language absolutely unambiguous about where they were headed. He tipped his bottle in salute.

A glimpse of platinum blond caught his eye and he turned toward the door. And there he was, moving around the edge of the room, eyes flitting nervously around at all the queers. Chris grinned and hopped off his stool, crossed the room quickly, stopping right in front of Eminem.

"So, you wanna kick my ass or kiss it?"

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