Day 13: Howie/Nick
Today a romantic photo, and a short Howie/Nick fic under the cut. For Awesome August as well as my fanfic100 challenge. Two birds with one stone I suppose?
Title: Silver Screen Fantasies
Fanfic100 Prompt: 074. Dark
Pairing: Howie/Nick
Rating: R
Summary: Howie really isn’t into public sex. Nick is really into pushing Howie’s buttons. Basically more smut; not sure how I feel about that. Partially inspired by Backstreet’s song PDA.
*****
The darkness feels almost like a cloak around him, protecting him, hiding him from any prying eyes. Not that there were that many people here who would recognize him, not at this time of night anyway. There weren’t even that many people in the theater, but it was one of those thoughts that was always nagging in the back of his subconscious. In some situations being recognized was unavoidable, sometimes even desirable, and he could mentally prepare himself for those times; but it was being caught off-guard that he hated the most. At a movie theater he could hide for awhile, and get caught up in someone else’s drama for a change.
Howie settles into the too-plush movie theater chair and leans his head back, and his eyes adjust to the darkness. Then the scent of buttery salted popcorn fills his nose, soon followed by the actual fluffy popcorn kernels raining down on him from above.
“What the fuck?” Howie exclaims, and his voice is startlingly loud in his own ears. The one thing that he hated about movie theaters was the ability to magnify sound, and he sees one head a few rows ahead of him turn around to peer through the dark. He reaches out to fight off the offender, and manages to land a good smack on Nick’s thigh.
“Oops. Sorry,” Nick laughs, completely unconcerned about how much noise he’s making. He plops himself down in the seat next to Howie, holding a large tub of popcorn, which is clearly less full than when he had bought it.
“Nick, would you knock it off?” Howie says, with more resignation than real anger. Nick picks some of the popcorn kernels off Howie’s chest, leaning in much closer than he needs to. There’s one stuck in Howie’s shirt collar, right under his chin, and Nick leans in to snatch it with his tongue, munching obnoxiously.
“I said I was sorry.”
Howie can’t see his face in the dark, but he knows he’s not sorry. He can tell from Nick’s voice, that cheeky little tinge that meant Nick thought he was being cute, especially when he was intentionally pissing Howie off. Howie sighs, flicks off a stray kernel of popcorn from his lap and settles into his chair again. He’d had years of practice of ignoring Nick Carter; food spillage was barely even a blip on the radar anymore. It wasn’t even liquid for that matter.
“Want some?” Out of his peripheral vision he sees Nick holding the bucket out to him, and shakes his head.
“I’ve got plenty, thanks.”
Nick laughs again, satisfied with himself, and settles into his own chair. Just as the opening credits end, he noisily stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth. If ignoring bandmates were an Olympic sport, Howie would hold the fucking record.
It’s barely twenty minutes in when Nick starts to shift in his seat, brushing a hand through his hair and using his arm as a pillow. Howie distinctly doesn’t notice, until Nick shifts to his other side, and rests his head on Howie’s shoulder.
“Nick, knock it off,” Howie whispers, and this time he can barely hear himself over the dialogue. Nick definitely hears him though. He doesn’t try to push Nick away, as that usually just makese him even clingier. Howie gets just a hint of his cologne, mixed with lingering butter, and alright, he can finish his movie like this.
Until Nick turns his face a little bit, and begins tonguing Howie’s ear.
“Nick, what are you doing?” Howie jerks away, but makes sure to keep his voice low.
“Nothing,” Nick says nonchalantly, and finally retreats back to his own personal space bubble with a soft sigh. He sighs again, and this one is almost a full-on whine.
“Howie, this movie is fucking boring my eyes out. Would you rather I fall asleep and start snoring?”
Howie pointedly doesn’t shift his gaze. Nick huffs, and goes back to staring at the screen. Then he peers up at the front rows, and quickly checks over his shoulder, but they’re in the very back row. Making no pretense of subtlety, he reaches over the armrest and strokes Howie through his jeans. Nick Carter did not give a damn about being recognized; or rather, he was willfully naïve enough to believe that he wouldn’t be recognized. Howie hated and envied that about him. This was one of those hate times.
“Nick, come on. I went to see 'A-Team' with you; the least you could do is be a decent friend and just let me watch without being irritating, for once.”
“I’m not being irritating, I’m being tempting,” Nick says smugly, working him a little harder, and Howie can’t even pretend it doesn’t affect him. The air in the theater suddenly didn’t seem so cool anymore.
“I bet we could sneak out and catch a porno flick,” Nick laughs lightly as he pulls away.
“God, what are you AJ’s protégé now?” Howie shifts in his seat. “You go then, I’m staying here.”
“Please, AJ started learning from me a long time ago,” Nick grins impishly.
“That’s not something to be proud of,” Howie says wearily, more to himself. He’s actually surprised when Nick gets out of his chair, but it quickly turns to horror as Nick gets down on his knees in front of him and unbuttons his jeans.
“Nick, for God’s sake. Would you get off the floor? You have no idea what’s down there. Nick. I’m not kidding, get up.”
“Howie, if you don’t shut up people are going to hear you,” Nick says calmly.
“Good,” Howie hisses. He almost does want Nick to get caught. Maybe it would teach him a lesson about how to act in public for a change. That would make a great headline, splashed across the tabloids, “Gay Boybanders Caught in Public Tryst.” But then again, Howie would get caught with him. And then Howie wonders who would be more embarrassed, and it’s not much of a mystery.
“Just go back to watching your movie already,” Nick whispers against Howie’s bare hipbone. Howie closes his eyes, and quickly opens them again. Everyone is still watching the screen in front of them. Thank God it was dark in here.
“Nick, you are not right, and…” Howie gulps. “And so fucking good at that,” he whispers hoarsely. He lets his hands rest in Nick’s hair, gripping it gently, and stays focused on the screen in front of him. Later on he credits himself with being able to remember the dialogue.
The only audible sound is when Nick zips up his jeans again, and Howie’s pretty sure he’s the only one who can hear it. Nick rests his chin on Howie’s knee for a moment, then slinks back into his chair.
“I’m going to get a soda, you want anything?”
Howie shakes his head. “I’m good.”
When he gets back, soda in hand, Howie swipes it and takes a sip before handing it back.
“We should do this more often,” Nick smiles, and bumps Howie’s shoulder gently. Howie grins, but doesn’t shift his gaze.
“You mean at the movies, or in general?”
Nick shrugs and sips his soda.
“I'm not usually into attention whores," Howie says dismissively. “But I could probably teach you a few things.”
Nick snorted, and a few heads turned around from the row ahead. “You?”
“Where do you think AJ learned it from?”
Howie swipes his soda again. Nick smiles and watches the movie.
*****
Title: Silver Screen Fantasies
Fanfic100 Prompt: 074. Dark
Pairing: Howie/Nick
Rating: R
Summary: Howie really isn’t into public sex. Nick is really into pushing Howie’s buttons. Basically more smut; not sure how I feel about that. Partially inspired by Backstreet’s song PDA.
*****
The darkness feels almost like a cloak around him, protecting him, hiding him from any prying eyes. Not that there were that many people here who would recognize him, not at this time of night anyway. There weren’t even that many people in the theater, but it was one of those thoughts that was always nagging in the back of his subconscious. In some situations being recognized was unavoidable, sometimes even desirable, and he could mentally prepare himself for those times; but it was being caught off-guard that he hated the most. At a movie theater he could hide for awhile, and get caught up in someone else’s drama for a change.
Howie settles into the too-plush movie theater chair and leans his head back, and his eyes adjust to the darkness. Then the scent of buttery salted popcorn fills his nose, soon followed by the actual fluffy popcorn kernels raining down on him from above.
“What the fuck?” Howie exclaims, and his voice is startlingly loud in his own ears. The one thing that he hated about movie theaters was the ability to magnify sound, and he sees one head a few rows ahead of him turn around to peer through the dark. He reaches out to fight off the offender, and manages to land a good smack on Nick’s thigh.
“Oops. Sorry,” Nick laughs, completely unconcerned about how much noise he’s making. He plops himself down in the seat next to Howie, holding a large tub of popcorn, which is clearly less full than when he had bought it.
“Nick, would you knock it off?” Howie says, with more resignation than real anger. Nick picks some of the popcorn kernels off Howie’s chest, leaning in much closer than he needs to. There’s one stuck in Howie’s shirt collar, right under his chin, and Nick leans in to snatch it with his tongue, munching obnoxiously.
“I said I was sorry.”
Howie can’t see his face in the dark, but he knows he’s not sorry. He can tell from Nick’s voice, that cheeky little tinge that meant Nick thought he was being cute, especially when he was intentionally pissing Howie off. Howie sighs, flicks off a stray kernel of popcorn from his lap and settles into his chair again. He’d had years of practice of ignoring Nick Carter; food spillage was barely even a blip on the radar anymore. It wasn’t even liquid for that matter.
“Want some?” Out of his peripheral vision he sees Nick holding the bucket out to him, and shakes his head.
“I’ve got plenty, thanks.”
Nick laughs again, satisfied with himself, and settles into his own chair. Just as the opening credits end, he noisily stuffs a handful of popcorn into his mouth. If ignoring bandmates were an Olympic sport, Howie would hold the fucking record.
It’s barely twenty minutes in when Nick starts to shift in his seat, brushing a hand through his hair and using his arm as a pillow. Howie distinctly doesn’t notice, until Nick shifts to his other side, and rests his head on Howie’s shoulder.
“Nick, knock it off,” Howie whispers, and this time he can barely hear himself over the dialogue. Nick definitely hears him though. He doesn’t try to push Nick away, as that usually just makese him even clingier. Howie gets just a hint of his cologne, mixed with lingering butter, and alright, he can finish his movie like this.
Until Nick turns his face a little bit, and begins tonguing Howie’s ear.
“Nick, what are you doing?” Howie jerks away, but makes sure to keep his voice low.
“Nothing,” Nick says nonchalantly, and finally retreats back to his own personal space bubble with a soft sigh. He sighs again, and this one is almost a full-on whine.
“Howie, this movie is fucking boring my eyes out. Would you rather I fall asleep and start snoring?”
Howie pointedly doesn’t shift his gaze. Nick huffs, and goes back to staring at the screen. Then he peers up at the front rows, and quickly checks over his shoulder, but they’re in the very back row. Making no pretense of subtlety, he reaches over the armrest and strokes Howie through his jeans. Nick Carter did not give a damn about being recognized; or rather, he was willfully naïve enough to believe that he wouldn’t be recognized. Howie hated and envied that about him. This was one of those hate times.
“Nick, come on. I went to see 'A-Team' with you; the least you could do is be a decent friend and just let me watch without being irritating, for once.”
“I’m not being irritating, I’m being tempting,” Nick says smugly, working him a little harder, and Howie can’t even pretend it doesn’t affect him. The air in the theater suddenly didn’t seem so cool anymore.
“I bet we could sneak out and catch a porno flick,” Nick laughs lightly as he pulls away.
“God, what are you AJ’s protégé now?” Howie shifts in his seat. “You go then, I’m staying here.”
“Please, AJ started learning from me a long time ago,” Nick grins impishly.
“That’s not something to be proud of,” Howie says wearily, more to himself. He’s actually surprised when Nick gets out of his chair, but it quickly turns to horror as Nick gets down on his knees in front of him and unbuttons his jeans.
“Nick, for God’s sake. Would you get off the floor? You have no idea what’s down there. Nick. I’m not kidding, get up.”
“Howie, if you don’t shut up people are going to hear you,” Nick says calmly.
“Good,” Howie hisses. He almost does want Nick to get caught. Maybe it would teach him a lesson about how to act in public for a change. That would make a great headline, splashed across the tabloids, “Gay Boybanders Caught in Public Tryst.” But then again, Howie would get caught with him. And then Howie wonders who would be more embarrassed, and it’s not much of a mystery.
“Just go back to watching your movie already,” Nick whispers against Howie’s bare hipbone. Howie closes his eyes, and quickly opens them again. Everyone is still watching the screen in front of them. Thank God it was dark in here.
“Nick, you are not right, and…” Howie gulps. “And so fucking good at that,” he whispers hoarsely. He lets his hands rest in Nick’s hair, gripping it gently, and stays focused on the screen in front of him. Later on he credits himself with being able to remember the dialogue.
The only audible sound is when Nick zips up his jeans again, and Howie’s pretty sure he’s the only one who can hear it. Nick rests his chin on Howie’s knee for a moment, then slinks back into his chair.
“I’m going to get a soda, you want anything?”
Howie shakes his head. “I’m good.”
When he gets back, soda in hand, Howie swipes it and takes a sip before handing it back.
“We should do this more often,” Nick smiles, and bumps Howie’s shoulder gently. Howie grins, but doesn’t shift his gaze.
“You mean at the movies, or in general?”
Nick shrugs and sips his soda.
“I'm not usually into attention whores," Howie says dismissively. “But I could probably teach you a few things.”
Nick snorted, and a few heads turned around from the row ahead. “You?”
“Where do you think AJ learned it from?”
Howie swipes his soda again. Nick smiles and watches the movie.
*****