Tired, bone tired from dancing, singing, smiling, and generally being a pop star, JC patted each of his bandmates on the head and shuffled down the aisle toward his bunk.

Long used to navigating on a moving vehicle, his body swayed easily with the roll of the bus.  Already in his nightwear – a threadbare t-shirt and soft flannel pajama pants – he grabbed his kit from the junk bunk, and headed for the bathroom.  He emerged a few minutes later, teeth scrubbed and face washed.  The curtain to the bunk area fluttered as someone disappeared out the other side, calling “’Night!” in their wake.  The voice was muffled, so JC couldn’t tell who it was – Justin, maybe Chris – and he grunted in reply.

Kicking off his slippers, JC climbed into the bunk.  Sighing happily, he wiggled into his favorite position. When his foot brushed against something scratchy under the blankets, JC jerked it back.  What the fuck? He turned on his bunk light and lifted the covers; something sparkly winked back at him.  He thought, briefly, that it was the new shirt he hadn’t shown the guys, but when his fingers closed over it, he realized the thing was made of paper.   It was a note of some kind.  Fan mail, perhaps.

Sitting up, he examined the envelope.  It was handmade, just a rectangle of white construction paper, the corners of which had been folded to the center and were held fast by an Nsync sticker that featured his smiling likeness.  He turned it over and saw “For JC” written in a loopy, girly hand, penned in what looked like hot pink glitter gel ink.  The blank areas of the paper had been covered with hearts and flowers, and it smelled like strawberries.  He heard stifled snickers and giggles from the front of the bus, and knew one of them had slipped the thing in his bed.

“Very funny, not laughing,” he muttered to himself, and loosened the sticker, flattening back the folded corners to reveal the note inside.

Another piece of white construction paper, more pink glitter ink.  He turned the paper over.  A badly cropped picture of the two of them had been cut from a teenie mag, glued to the construction paper, and JC *heart* Joey had been written across the bottom.  The heart was filled in with pink glitter; tiny flakes of it had drifted everywhere when he’d opened the note, and he knew that in the morning he’d be scratching like a dog with fleas.

“Ha fucking ha!” he yelled.  “Thanks for the glitter, fuckheads!”

The giggles exploded into belly laughter.

“Laugh it up, funny boys, but I’m sleeping with one of you assholes tonight!”

“Sleep in Joey’s bunk, dude!”  Chris chortled.

“Yeah, he won’t mind,” Justin hooted.  Little rat punk.

“You two are dead tomorrow.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” JC heard a slightly hitched step coming down the aisle and groaned. Joey. Jesus. He was shoving the note under his pillow when the curtain was pulled back.

“Jace? What’d they do? They wouldn’t let me see.” Joey negotiated the tight space a little awkwardly with his cane and bad leg, and JC felt guilty that Joey’d walked back there for nothing.  There was no way he’d let Joey see the note.

“It’s nothing, man.  You know how childish some people can be.”  JC raised his voice when he said “childish,” hoping it would carry to the front of the bus.  It did.  More laughter.

“Come on, Josh, I’m a wounded man.  Don’t tell me I limped back here for nothing.  What is it?”

“They’re being completely asinine,” JC grumbled.  He reached for the note, realizing that the longer he stalled, the more credence he’d give the prank. He pulled it out from under his pillow, leaving a trail of pink glitter across the blanket.  “Here.”  He swung his legs out of the bunk and sat up.

Joey raised an eyebrow, and leaned back against the other bunks.  Once he was steady, he examined the envelope, then the crudely fashioned note.  “Our friends are girls,” he finally said, a slow grin lifting the corners of his mouth.  “Little, squealing girls.”

“Teenies,” JC agreed, smiling; relieved.  He looked down at his flannel-clad knees and tried to brush away some of the glitter.  “I’m sorry about all that,” he said softly.  “Man, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Joey flicked his head.  “How many times do I have to tell you not to apologize?  Jeez, I thought it was sweet that you missed me so much.”

“But, it was MTV!  Could I have been more stupid?”  JC stared at the glitter heart in Joey’s hand.  “I just. I missed you.  I’m sorry.”

“You know,” Joey said, nodding his head toward his bunk, “You can sleep in my bed since I’m not using it.” He was camped out on the couch in the lounge, since it was easier on his injured leg.  He tugged gently on a lock of JC’s hair.  “We’ll tell the driver to stop at a laundromat tomorrow, and make Chris and Justin wash your stuff.”

“The bastards; it’s the least they could do.”  JC stood and looked down at his bunk and sighed.  “Isn’t that pathetic?  There’ll be glitter back here for *months.*”  He stripped off his pajama pants and t-shirt, and tossed them on the bed.  He stood dressed only in a pair of white boxers.  “Thanks for the bed, dude.  I appreciate it.”  He hugged Joey, and Joey rested his head on his shoulder.

“Not a prob, man.”  Joey’s breath was warm against his skin.

“It didn’t feel right without you,” JC murmured, and kissed the top of Joey’s head.  “I said he was one of us, but he’s not.  No one could replace you.”  He dropped another kiss in Joey’s hair.  Joey’s arms tightened around him.

“You know,” Joey said softly, “you could sleep in my bunk, or,” he took a breath, “you could sleep in the lounge."  His lips were hot against JC’s shoulder.  "With me.”

“Yeah?”  JC tightened his arms around Joey and smiled.  Maybe practically admitting a crush on MTV wasn’t a bad thing, after all.

“Yeah,” Joey whispered, his lips soft against JC’s neck.  “I heart you, too.”