"Another orgasm of the year candidate right there," Chris jokes before he can stop himself.
Kevin doesn't respond.
Mere seconds ago he was swearing up a storm - reminiscent of Lance at some of their more demanding dance practices - but now there's nothing but complete and utter silence. The longer it lasts, the more uncomfortable Chris starts to feel, despite the somewhat reassuring fact that Kevin is obviously still breathing, albeit raggedly, next to him. And while he manages to respect the silence for what seem to be, at the very least, five more minutes, Chris finally blurts out, "Did I fuck you stupid?"
Kevin still doesn't react.
"Or is this like a Zen moment - wait, no, a tantra state? Did I go all Sting on your ass, and now you're speechless, because I - "
"For the love of - Chris. Shut. Up," Kevin mumbles, the sound of his voice muffled by his pillow.
Chris hesitates, his fingers absently tracing beads of sweat up Kevin's spine as he asks, "It is a good kind of speechless though, right?"
"Oh, It's all good," Kevin hums contently.
"How's Kevin?" JC asks, the interest genuine. Because otherwise he probably wouldn't ask when Lance is sitting right across from him. For some reason Lance is like a dog with a bone when it comes to Kevin.
"He's doing well," Chris says immediately. "And since you're about to ask - why is he doing so well? He's doing so well because I am awesome in bed," he announces just as their second round of drinks arrives. "A 'leaving Kevin at a loss for words' kind of awesome."
JC looks happy for him. But then again, JC looks happy most of the time these days. It almost seems like he's actually, you know, happy.
Lance, however, just snorts. "Are you sure it wasn't merely Kevin's limited vocabulary letting him down again?"
"Bitch," Chris says cheerfully, not about to rise to the bait tonight. "But no, it was Kevin in utter awe. Of my skills. Of me. Now that's pretty damn impressive, right?"
"Crying is impressive," Lance says. "Show me some tears and then I'll be impressed."
"Crygasms are pretty impressive," JC nods.
Chris groans. "Different topic. Now. Come on, anything - C?"
"Right. Wait, did anyone tell you how Nick Carter in full drag is a dead ringer for Britney Spears?"
Lance nods knowingly.
"You want me to cry?" Kevin asks, the fluid, slow, rise of his eyebrow conveying utter incredulity.
"Yeah. Just a couple of tears at the, you know, moment suprême, nothing too dramatic." Chris nods, mirroring Kevin's raised glass in a silent greeting when Nick Carter walks past. For some reason Chris simply can't stop himself from watching the man's retreating back as he crosses the room.
"Okay," Kevin drawls. "Does that mean y'all missed the memo about me crying at the drop of a hat?"
"We probably did. But I am happy to hear that, considering," Chris says with an easy shrug, his eyes still following Nick. It's a little distracting. "So hey, did you know Nick in drag is like Britney 2.0?"
Kevin nods, swallowing his mouthful of beer. "Now that was one hell of a night. You know, AJ makes a decent Amy Winehouse," he adds.
"Now that? Doesn't surprise me at all." Chris suddenly pauses, his beer bottle suspended in mid-air as a thought occurs to him, and he looks at Kevin, giving the man a quick once-over before shaking his head slowly. "You know what, I'm not going there, I'm not even going to ask - " He lets his voice trail off in silent hope.
Kevin smiles enigmatically. "Smart man."
"Wait, when did crying become a turn on?" Joey interrupts him. "Because man, if that had been the thing back in the day - all the girls would have been lining up to get with me."
"Sure, but more girls, Joe?" Chris asks. "Because it's not like there would have been more hours in the day or anything."
Joey's smile has a hint of smugness, despite Kelly's loud snort. "Damn straight," he says.
Chris rolls his eyes. "Speaking of girls - who do you think Nick Carter would look like in, you know, full drag?"
"Britney," Joey and Kelly say in unison.
"Fuck. Seriously, am I the only one who didn't know or what?"
Joey smirks. "YouTube, baby."
"I didn't see any tears there, Kev," he kindly points out mere minutes after Kevin has all but passed out.
"Dead pet stories usually do the trick - hit me with one of those and I'll happily bawl my eyes out for you," Kevin mutters, not bothering to lift his head from where it’s buried in the pillow.
"Well as long as it doesn't mean it wasn't, you know, good," Chris says, wincing when he hears the barest hint of uncertainty in his own words.
Kevin does lift his head at that, his eyes narrowing when he looks at Chris. "You're fucking kidding me, right?"
Chris barely holds back a sigh, and shakes his head, not resisting when Kevin wraps one arm around him, and pulls him close. "Yeah, it's just - Lance, you know," he mumbles, shrugging against Kevin’s solid chest.
"I could make Lance cry," Kevin offers readily.
Chris chuckles. "Now that would be impressive."
There's an email from Justin in his inbox. No subject, no text, just a link to a YouTube video.
"No tears at all?" Lance manages to look both unimpressed and amused.
"Not exactly," Chris says, smiling his most innocent of smiles over the rim of his glass. "There was the promise of tears. On your end, that is," he adds, lifting his glass in a silent toast to Kevin.
Lance nods slowly. "So how is Kevin's ass?"
"Oh right. My bad, the man doesn't have an ass whatsoever. But tell me then, where did he keep that stick all those years?"
"Oh I wouldn't know," Chris says in a droll tone of voice. "Although, it's not like he has a gag reflex whatsoever, so maybe - "
Lance grins, raising his own glass in a respectful salute. "Now that is impressive."
"It is indeed."
Chris simply can't stay quiet after another shoo-in candidate for the orgasm of the year title. "Lance probably would have been impressed," he says after taking a moment to taste himself on Kevin's tongue.
"You know there really is no rule that says you have to talk post-sex. And I believe there is a rule saying that the one thing you don't talk about is Lance Bass - "
"Are you telling me my pillow talk needs some work?" Chris asks innocently, pressing his lips to the corner of Kevin's mouth as he shifts to accommodate the other man's weight.
Kevin slides one knee between Chris's legs. "I think I'm telling you to shut up," he drawls.
Chris snorts. "Right. Hey, did I ever tell you about Busta?"