Rhetoric

by >>Jae

"Yeah, all right," Justin said. "I don't know, half an hour maybe? It's not like they're gonna start without us. Okay, all right, we'll be down as soon as I can drag my boyfriend out of bed." He hung up the phone. Chris was watching him, one eyebrow quirked.

"Lance said they're waiting on us," Justin said.

"Your boyfriend, huh?" Chris said.

"Yeah," Justin said. "Are you getting up or what?"

"I'm not your boyfriend," Chris said.

"Well, I wish you'd said something earlier. Cause I pretty much definitely wouldn't have blown you this morning if I'd known. Come on, move it." Justin sat up and swung his legs onto the floor. Chris grabbed his arm.

"I'm not your boyfriend," Chris said again.

"Yeah, I heard you already," Justin said. He sat back against the headboard and rolled his eyes. "Look, we've got somewhere to be in, like, twenty-eight minutes, so maybe just this once you can tell me what you're talking about straight out."

"Fine," Chris said. "I'm not a boy, and I'm not your friend. So, following that logic, I can't be your --"

"What do you mean, you're not my friend?"

Chris' eyes narrowed. "That's what you think this is -- friends?"

"No," Justin said quickly, "no, of course not, I love you, you know that. I just meant. I didn't mean anything."

"Okay," Chris said, sitting up. It was Justin's turn to stop him.

"So what are you?"

"I need you to narrow that down a little for me," Chris said.

"I mean, what should I call you? Cause, okay, you're not a boy, you're not my friend. So you're, like, my lover?"

Chris laughed and fell back on the bed. "Please, please, please start referring to me as your lover as often as possible. Oh, God, in front of JC especially." Then he sat up, still laughing, and said, "Wait, no, I forgot who I was talking to. I was kidding. Kidding. Do not, under any circumstances, refer to me as your lover."

"Well, you are," Justin said stubbornly. He was grinning a little, though. He couldn't help it.

"That's not the point," Chris said. "The point is, there are certain words, and lover is one of them, oh, and making love, too -- you should be writing this down -- certain words that can only be taken seriously when said by Barry White or the Reverend Al Green."

"So, are you, like, my partner?"

"Well, we don't own an antique store and three cats together, so I'd say no."

"Then what do I call you?"

"Is there some sort of problem with Chris?"

"No," Justin said, "no, I meant. Like, to other people. What do I call you?"

"You can call me Chris," Chris said. "Miss Jackson if you're nasty."

"No, seriously, Chris, I mean --"

"I know what you mean, Justin. I just don't know who these other people are you need to be explaining me to. Because, you know, the guys'll probably know who you mean if you just say Chris."

"I know," Justin said. He looked down. "What do you call me?"

"Again, I've gotta ask, to who? Whom? Who? I'm never sure which one to use. Although look who I'm asking; you're not exactly the grammar king of --"

"To yourself," Justin said. He looked at Chris. "How do you think of me? To yourself."

Chris' mouth twitched. "J," he said, and touched Justin's cheek.

Justin pulled away. "How do you?" he said.

"J," Chris said again. "J." He reached out again. This time Justin closed his eyes and let Chris cup his face. When he opened his eyes, Chris was watching him. "J," Chris breathed. Justin smiled at him.

Three weeks later Justin lay next to Britney in another nameless hotel room lit by the lights of another nameless city. He turned to her suddenly and said, "You're my girlfriend, right?"

"Of course, silly," she said. She smiled at him.