There wasn't much you could do with your boyfriend in a bunk in a tour bus with two (lonely) married men and a (naive?) teenager within listening distance. Luckily they weren't above or below anyone else, and the bunk wasn't particularly creaky, and Sligh snored like a mofo so he'd drown out a lot, but still. Serious fucking, hell, even oral sex, was out. It wasn't, as Chris would say, classy.
But they were men in their twenties, and every night they had thousands of girls screaming at them, and they'd go out and dare each other, and all the hiding in plain sight just made it hotter, until by the time the show ended Chris couldn't even look at Blake for fear he'd have some kind of spontaneous orgasm which in white trousers was NOT a good look. And then the dressing room was full of wardrobe people and there were fans all over. Their sex life had been reduced to jacking each other off in the bathroom and that was sad.
And then about a week into the tour Chris said, "You know, what if we just make out? We never do that. Just kiss and kiss and kiss and fall asleep." Blake thought that sounded cool, and at night they were in a sort of tired-and-hyper state anyway, and who doesn't like kissing?
After that the physical side of their relationship was split in two. Right after the show they would duck into the bathroom and reach into each other's flies and jack off, fast and silent and fully clothed, just staring each other in the eye. Later they'd lay in the bunk on the bus, naked and wrapped around each other, with the window curtain open to let in the moonlight or the highway lights or whatever, and make out, and talk in low soft voices about everything and nothing, sometimes listening to music but most of the time in silence, just feeling their bodies pressed against each other, and if they got a hard-on they'd just wait it out, and eventually fall asleep. On days off, in hotel rooms, it seemed strange putting the two back together, to have kisses that led to orgasms rather than away from them.
Years later, when they had a sedan with car seats in the back and close friends on the other side of town, it happened all over again. Holding hands instead of kissing, but the same soft voices talking about everything and nothing while the moon or the highway lights shone through the windows, sometimes listening to music and sometimes not. Blake said it was like a metaphor for their entire relationship, where they had to find tiny private spaces that belonged just to them, where they could remind each other that they belonged to each other and not the labels or the managers or the fans or even their friends and family or the kids, just the two of them, holding hands as they went down the highway together.