FAG (Justin Bieber x OC)

4

AN: Oh God. This is getting increasingly complex. It was initially just a simple boy meets boy. Oh well. Thanks to anyone reading, commenting and voting. The picture is of Kelly (Evan Ross).

L.A.
Four days before I left for London.

"Oh my Lord! If it isn't the Biebs himself!" were the first words I heard in that fruity Californian accent.

I blinked.

The owner of the distinctive voice was a tall, drool-worthy man, who gripped a   bottle of purple smoothie in one manicured hand and wielded a red velvet folder in the other. His raven hair was silky, slick and luxurious, and the colour of his smoothie matched that of his shiny button-up shirt. Through the shirt's clingy material, I could clearly make out the outlines of large muscles.

"Hi," I mustered awkwardly. He kept looking at me, beaming all the while with those rows of pearly whites. Just as I began to feel uncomfortable, he sipped his drink, gazed heavenward, let out a sigh of satisfaction and then twirled around to face a desk. He smacked the bottle down and twirled back to me.
"Bo Chen, but you can call be plain ol' Bo!" I was about to tell him it was nice to meet him, but he hadn't finished. "Bo means wave," he told me, making vaguely wave-like gestures that caused the lights to dance off his biceps.
"That's cool, man," I offered, not sure what else to say. Bo was a lot to take in, what with being so dazzling in terms of looks, enthusiasm and reflective clothing.
"It's Chinese," he explained, "Like me!  Well, not really. My parents are, but I've only ever lived right here in sunny L.A. I've been to China Town, though. Have you?"
"Have I? Oh, uh, no. I haven't, like..."
"Oh, you should go. The food is to die for and the colour scheme is just so satisfying. Reds and blacks mostly, you know. Not many areas of the city have their own colour scheme. It brings me joy, honestly," he finished with hand on heart. It was all I could do to nod.

"Anyway!" he exclaimed, waggling the scarlet folder, which he still held in his hand. "I have your measurements," he sort of sang. Opening it, he flicked through, jabbering to himself as he did. I was gawkily standing by the door still, so he waved me across the starkly white room and over to a lime swivel chair, where I sat. Surreptitiously checking Bo was distracted, I took out my phone, firing off a message to Kelly. It basically told him that he needed to be here a) so he could finally understand what I meant when I said "gay gay" and b) so he could thank me forever more for supplying him with such a perfect candidate for his wet dreams.
Kelly replied that he was on his way and a dopey smile found it's way onto my lips.

***

"Oh my! And who's this?" Bo delighted about half an hour later, arms outstretched as if Kelly might run from the doorway to leap into Bo's strong arms. From the look on Kelly's face, he might just do that. I watched Kelly's face avidly as the thoughts I'd had when first trying to comprehend all that was Bo played out across it. He finally settled for pulling his lips wide, displaying straight, white teeth in his signature feel-good smile.
"I'm Kelly. M'Justin's friend," he introduced himself in the voice I'd at first thought was surprisingly high pitched, but now accepted as soft and cheerful and familiar. He walked forward and offered a hand. Bo grasped it and then didn't let go, instead tilting it so he could admire the star tattoo on the pinky finger, "And this tattoo: very tasteful. Subtle, yet sexy."
The hand and the eye contact lingering, Kelly returned Bo's smile and replied with equal charm, "Thank you... I don't think I caught your name."
My eyes narrowed.
"I'm Bo Chen, but you, well, you can call me anything you'd like."
Oh good God.