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Lance once slept with a guy with an orange dick.
In his defense, he'd been really drunk. Besides, it's not like he could have even known before the pants came off. Maybe he should have made a beeline for the door when the man had dropped trou, but he had been really, really drunk. And horny.
###
Post orange dick, Lance vows not to speak of that one night again.
Ever.
Or at least not without mentioning just how drunk he'd been at the time. This does not entirely explain how he ends up sharing this particular anecdote when they're babysitting Kloey one night. Babysitting in, what Joey likes to call, Three men and a baby-fashion, which basically means three men, sitting around, watching one baby.
The leap from there to orange dicks really should be much, much bigger.
"It's why I always fuck in the dark," JC says.
Joey grins. "You fuck in the dark because of orange dicks?"
"No, but I'm definitely adding it to the list of reasons why the light doesn't come on until I - until we are done."
"Okay, so we now know why C's lights are never on when we drive past. Can we go back to Lance's orange dick already?"
"Oh, yes, please, can we," Lance mutters.
"You're the one who brought the damn thing up. Literally, even," Joey points out, not at all bothered by his audience's simultaneous groans.
"So, orange dicks?" JC prompts helpfully.
Lance sighs. "Did I mention I was really, really drunk?"
###
Chris once spray tanned his dick.
In his defense, he had been a little inebriated. Besides, it's not like he could have known the end result would be quite so orange. Maybe he should have stuck with his original plan to stay home, but he had been really, really horny. And then Lance had called.
###
Post spray tan, Chris decides not to speak of that particular night again.
Ever.
Or at least not until Lance actually remembers the night in question, which given how drunk he'd apparently been most likely means that Chris will indeed never speak of that night again. Of course, a very awkward silence during a phone conversation totally explains why he suddenly hears himself say, "I gave my dick a fake tan."
The other end of the line remains quiet for a few more seconds before Justin explodes in a fit of laughter. "You. What?"
"I spray tanned my dick. You know, Snooki-style," Chris elaborates, finally able to lower his hunched shoulders as he listens to the all too familiar sound of Justin's laughter.
"Snooki? What, you mean, orange?" Justin asks teasingly. "I bet being, you know, Snooki got you laid all right."
Chris grins. "Fuck, yeah."
"Classy. And you guys wonder why I didn't invite any of you to our wedding," Justin dares, addressing the giant elephant in the room.
"Wait, that wasn't because we all know JC would totally outshine the bride?"
###
There are weeks when he doesn't manage to weasel out of their biweekly appointment at Joey's. And then there are weeks when he doesn't even consider trying. This week definitely falls into the latter category, because he finds himself reveling in the hustle and bustle of the Fatone family life. And when JC arrives, completing their Three men arrangement, Chris wonders if he'll be able to stop smiling at some point.
"So," JC says during a comfortable lull in their conversation. "I hear it wasn't a very local carotene buildup after all?"
Chris stops smiling.
It figures that Lance would forget all about their night together, save that one, not at all little, detail.
"What?" Joey sits up. "Did the orange dick rear its head again? Because Lance sure as hell didn't tell me anything about that."
JC looks straight at Chris, a smile brightening his face, and says, "Justin may have mentioned something about a certain someone spray tanning their dick."
"Oh. My. God," Joey wheezes, laughing. "You're orange juice?"
JC giggles. "No, he's Snooki."
"Seriously, Chris, just how drunk were you?" Joey asks once he manages to regain control of his breathing.
"Not drunk enough to forget who I slept with."
###
Later that night, Chris gives JC a ride home, and he can't not bring up the one subject he's been avoiding around JC for the past couple of weeks. "You and Justin are still talking?" He gives JC a sideways glance, just in time to catch the slight faltering of JC's smile.
"Of course we are. It's Justin."
"Yeah." He holds back a sigh then decides to resort to what has to be the definitive conversation piece. "Do you think I should tell Lance about OJ?"
JC's smile returns in full force. "I think in this particular case? I'd prefer a show, not tell, kind of approach. But that's probably just me."
###
"You'd think that after ten calls, Justin would have gotten the message that I'm not quite there just yet," Lance says, staring down at the display of his cell phone.
"Maybe he just thinks you're too busy to take his calls."
Lance makes a face, because Justin is the only one of them who'd ever dare to use that excuse not to answer any of their calls. "Maybe."
He nods. "You're getting there though, right?"
"Yeah."
Chris watches how Lance's fingers tighten around his phone, and he figures this probably isn't the time to play the orange dick card. He flops down onto the couch next to Lance, and says, "It's your fault for looking too damn hot in a tux, man. After all, can't have anyone outshining the bride and groom now, can we?"
###
Later that night, Chris does pull out his orange dick.
In his defense, he's more than a little drunk after drinking several beers with Lance, and several more after Lance leaves. Maybe he shouldn't take a picture of his freshly sprayed dick, and he definitely shouldn't even consider sending said picture to Justin. But, rumor has it people like a show, not tell approach - and so, instead of telling Justin he's a dick and thanking him for effectively cock-blocking him tonight?
Chris presses the send button.
###
The morning after, Chris promises himself that, with a little help from Justin, last night will definitely fall into the category of things which will not be spoken of again.
Ever.
Of course, given how helpful Justin has been recently, it doesn't surprise him at all to find Lance on his doorstep minutes later.
Lance holds up his phone, its screen displaying a familiar shade of orange. "I'm not even going to ask why."
Chris nods sagely. No one ever does. "I told you you were getting there."
"Well, orange cocks do seem to be the way to get my attention these days."
"Believe me, I remember."
"I don't," Lance says with just the right amount of wistfulness in his voice. "Care to jog my memory?"
Chris drops his pants.
###