Fic: Jonas Brothers, chemicals collide (joe/nick) NC-17
Title: chemicals collide
Authors: fiorie and miss_bennie
Fandom: Jonas Brothers RPF
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 18,300 total; 9436 for Part One.
Warnings: Incest, underage. Oh God.
Summary: It's the three of them, now and until they're done, because you can break up a band but you can't break up your family.
Authors' Notes: No disrespect intended, etc. Just for fun.
After two months of recording in a bus, being in the studio again feels good. The bus had been awesome, there's no denying that, but it was cramped and there was always weird interference through the mics, and forget it if one of them had to go to the bathroom, because the toilet didn't flush. And where there was the ability to tour and record at the same time, there was also a camera documenting their every move. Even on days when your voice was off and you had to do so many takes of "Tonight" that you started forgetting the words, you had to be happy for the camera. Everything needed to be cool at all times, including the sold out shows they were putting on nearly every single night. Joe and his brothers and their entire family had been grateful for the bus; it was necessary. But sometimes it really, really sucked.
So they're back in the studio, back in Burbank, and things are finally coming together on this album. The tours had been insane - both theirs and Miley's - and most of the time whenever Joe would ask someone where in the United States they were, he'd get an answer way off from what he'd been expecting. Texas looks like Arkansas which sometimes looks like Arizona when you're really tired and when all you're seeing of them is the highway outside the windows of a bus. The fact that they'd been able to pull everything off and still make the fans happy and sell out arenas right and left, well. That proves exactly how awesome they are. How awesome everyone is.
They'd been told that if they came in to record the finishing touches of the album and could get it done in a few hours or so, they'd be able to take the next day off, and Joe needs a day off. He needs to sleep in a place that isn't on its way somewhere. He needs to not wake up until two o'clock and to play Xbox, and eat his mom's baked ziti and then go back to sleep for, like, ever.
Eventually they've started to learn that they never really know what's going to come up the day after tomorrow. There's always a last minute radio station interview or photo shoot with Cosmo Girl or they find out they're opening for Avril in two months. So when someone tells you that if you get your work done you can do whatever you want for twenty-four straight hours, you get it done.
One-thirty in the morning hits, and John the producer tells Joe his vocals are done. It finally feels like things are wrapping up for real for the first time all night. There had been days, weeks even, when it felt like the studio bus just wasn't going to cut it, when they were seriously doubting their ability to be able to tour for themselves and tour for someone else and shoot a movie and record an album all at once. They didn't always think they'd be able to make all the fans happy all the time, but making the fans happy is their thing. It's always been their thing, whether or not it's what they want for themselves twenty-four seven. But the truth is, they could do it. Without anything even being compromised in the process.
Kevin's there too, along with Joe and Nick, even though Kevin has nothing else to record and all of his guitar parts and whatever vocals he had were all done on the bus. Nick's really the one they're focusing on tonight, what with the drums and cleaning up some of his guitar solos and vocal solos.
Joe watches as Nick thrashes away at the drum set in the percussion room. He kind of looks like Animal from The Muppets and it's awesome. There's really nothing like seeing Nick play any instrument, but the drums especially. He loses himself in it and he seems to completely forget that anyone's watching him at all. They're all kind of like that when they're on stage, but Nick's the only one who stays completely unaware of anything but the music he's making.
Joe catches Nick's eye across the room from where he's standing by the controls. He pretends like he's playing drums the way Nick does, flailing around wildly and whipping his head up and down, and Nick rolls his eyes and plays a rimshot.
To be honest, the studio they're in isn't any bigger than the bus was, with the amount of people around. John Fields and John Taylor are both there, Jack and Garbo too, and a bunch of recording guys. Photographers are coming and going, taking pictures for what they're saying is going to be a book soon, and a few shots for the website.
Jimmy the engineer wants another cut of Nick's drum part to go along with his vocals on "Video Girl," and instead of sneaking out of the room to go see who's waiting around outside (because sometimes you're really better off not knowing who's waiting around outside), Joe stays where he is. He rolls up an extra chair by where Kevin's sitting in the closed off area next to the control room, drinking a Red Bull with a laptop on his knees. They're tired, beyond tired, and they haven't had real food or seen daylight in over nine hours, so drinks with tons of sugar and caffeine are what's keeping them awake. Red Bull and stupid jokes and laughing - that's the only way to look alive when you haven't had a full night's sleep in a year.
Joe tries to see what Kevin's doing on his computer and it looks like he's maybe checking their MySpace, but it's hard to tell. Kevin has this compulsive need to look at their song play counts all the time. He knows exactly how many millions of times "S.O.S." has been played on MySpace at any given moment.
Kevin's typing away and Joe reaches over to try to tap a key, but Kevin swipes the laptop away from him. Kevin's pretty quick. "Stop trying to break my computer," he says to Joe.
"I wasn't," Joe says. Sometimes Kevin's awesome, but sometimes when he's tired he's kind of a douchebag. "Jesus Christ."
"Joseph," his dad warns, turning his head from where he's talking to the photographer. God, it's like his dad is everywhere, all the time.
"It's okay, Dad," Kevin says. "It's just past Joe's bedtime and he's acting up."
Big Rob comes over just then, all fake-scary, and grabs Joe by the back of the neck. Hard, until Joe has to stand up and squeeze his shoulders upwards. "Don't make me pick you up and take you outside," Rob says, and he's joking, but he definitely could. With one finger.
"Keep going, maybe kind of lower," Joe says to Rob. "I'm a little tense."
Rob just shakes his head, but Joe's bored and if he stops moving he'll probably pass out, so he challenges Rob to a freestyle contest.
"I will beat you so hard," Joe says. "Young Jeezy, ever heard of him? He taught me everything he knows."
"I was there when you met Jeezy, man," Rob laughs. "It was sad. Embarrassing."
Kevin laughs. "Yeah, dude, you almost crapped your pants that night."
Jesus, you clam up one time in front of Young Jeezy and nobody ever lets you live it down. For the record, he's kind of scary looking in person.
Joe raps anyway, something about cherry limeade and Gucci shoes. It doesn't rhyme nor does it make any sense, but it makes everyone stand around him and laugh. He doesn't even know what he's talking about anymore, he's so exhausted, and he's vaguely aware that his dad's got a camera out. This will all probably be on YouTube tomorrow, which, whatever. Their lives are going to be on display on the Disney Channel in a couple of months so it's all kind of familiar at this point.
Nick comes out of the booth, finished drumming, and Ryan's the first one to give him a high five. Even though Ryan's got most of the drums on the album, it had been pretty major for Nick that he could record his own drum parts, and that they had time to come back here to make everything sound even better than it did on the bus.
"Nicholas," Joe says approvingly, raising both hands, and Nick slaps them with his.
"That was so awesome," Nick says, catching his breath and peeling off his sweater. "We finally got it to where it's-" He puts his thumb and forefinger together in a circle. "It's perfect, man."
Joe grabs a bottle of water from the shelf along the wall and passes it to his brother, messing up Nick's hair with his other hand while Nick tries to duck away.
"Dude, can we go home and, like, die now?" Joe asks no one in particular. It doesn't look like they're finishing up yet and he's wondering if there's a couch nearby that he could crash on until it's time to leave.
"Nick," Jimmy says, as Nick's taking a huge drink of water. "We need you back in there for 'A Little Bit Longer.' Some of the vocals we did earlier don't match up with the track, for whatever reason. Actually," he laughs, "we're going to need you to resing the entire song."
The three of them groan, Joe the loudest. It's the story of their life these days: Just when they think they're done with something, they find out they're only just getting started. There is no such thing as done anymore - it's always either almost there or not even close.
"Jim," Kevin whines. "This isn't freaking Abbey Road. What level of perfectionism are you going for? It's two-thirty in the morning."
"Yeah, dude," Joe adds. "You're cutting in on Kevin's special hair time."
"Dude, shut up," Nick says, waving Joe away. "I need this song to be right." He lets Jimmy lead him back inside to the control room and into the booth.
That's Nick, though. And Joe has to watch out for him sometimes. They all do - the family, the band, the crew - but Joe finds himself making sure Nick's checking his blood sugar even when he's too drained to remember his own name. He doesn't nag, because Nick gets pissed when you nag him, but he watches for it.
For a while, it had been obsessive. In the beginning, after they'd first found out about the diabetes, Joe would check the fridge of every green room, backstage, bus or limo they were ever in to make sure it was stocked with some kind of juice in case Nick's blood sugar went low (things you learn when your brother has diabetes: juice works faster). It had been just too freaky after Nick got all skinny and wiped out and was stuck in the hospital, and the thought of being without him was way too much. But now that they all see the way Nick's handling it himself, they've started to step back.
Joe's stepped back too, but not so far that he's unable to see. He and Nick share too much for him to be able to let it all rest on Nick's shoulders. And anyway, Nick's just a kid. When Joe was sixteen they were still in Jersey sharing one bathroom, their mom driving them to the skate park in Clifton every Saturday. They had no worries back then.
The room begins to clear out a bit while the crew and John and Garbo begin bringing stuff out to the buses, Kevin takes a call from Mom on his cell, Dad and Big Rob are off to make sure the truck's pulled up to the front for when they're ready to go home.
Joe goes back into the control room where it's quiet and it's just Jimmy and some other guy waiting to give Nick the go-ahead to start singing. Nick's in the sound booth with his sweater back on, hood over his head, and his eyes kind of have bags under them. He's so obviously spent, but he's always professional. He's different in the studio; he has the seriousness that Joe gets bored of way too easily.
Nick gets the green light and the guy next to Jimmy hands Joe an extra pair of headphones so that he's able to hear. Joe knows Nick's voice better than his own, and Nick's on point tonight.
As he watches Nick through the glass of the sound booth, he remembers how there were bad days at first, worse than bad days, even. The day Nick wrote the song - they were in Toronto filming the movie at the time - was one of the worst. Joe had been so busy on set, and when he wasn't shooting scenes he was doing schoolwork. When he wasn't doing schoolwork he was with choreographers, and when he wasn't with them he was still being paid to basically have a good time talking to extras and dicking around for the behind-the-scenes camera people. It had been the best thing ever, earning money just being himself, surrounded by a ton of cute girls who were all over him.
But it hadn't been the same for Nick. Sometimes it just isn't, and their mom's always said it's because Nick's artistic and things affect him differently. For Joe, the only way he'll worry about things is if he stops and thinks about them for too long. Luckily there's no time for that, because there's free iPhones and sneakers from LaCoste and Lauren Conrad thinking he's hot, and these things keep him occupied. For Nick, well. Nick gets blown away by it all, even after all this time.
That's why Nick wrote the song that day, all alone. And when he'd shown it to Joe, it had been this total overwhelming feeling of wow, Nick is good. Not just because he's his brother or because he's diabetic, but because he's good.
Watching Nick now, Joe notices the way he physically looks the same as he did the night in the hotel at that barely-tuned grand piano. He's all dark circles and messy hair and hiding in a sweatshirt. But listening to him, it's like he's a completely different person. Someone who's open about being freaked out, maybe.
Their dad used to talk in church all the time about being transparent - about always being honest and humble and never being something you're not - and this is Nick's way of doing it.
Joe closes his eyes at the F minor to the C to the G, because everything they've ever wanted is happening and yeah, Nick will be fine. He'll make sure of it.
The song's ready to mix as soon as Nick's finished with it, and Jimmy and the other guy get really excited.
"Fuck yeah!" The guy says.
"Your brother's a fucking rock star," Jimmy says to Joe. "In every sense of the word."
Nick emerges from the soundbooth even happier than he was after the drum parts.
"Dude," Joe says, wrapping his arms around Nick's neck and shoulders and rocking him back and forth. "You're a fucking rock star."
"Don't curse, Joe," Nick says, moving his body along with Joe's as if his bones are about to quit holding him upright.
"Whatever, Dad's not here." Joe moves his hands to the top of Nick's head and smiles. "Let's go get some food, Nicky."
* * *
It turns out that when you're pretty famous rock stars who've just finished recording their third album, you can go to Canter's at three-fifteen in the morning and they'll section off an entire area for you. Of course, when you're just eating burgers with your brothers and your dad and your friends, it's kind of like being back in Jersey, before anyone knew who you were.
* * *
The next few months fly by. They're all one wild, surreal blur - there's prep for the tour, making sure they're voted for Kids' Choice (and, to be fair, telling people to vote for them every five seconds gets really old, for an award that lame), and way too many girls named Ashley attacking them with Sharpies and pink Razr camera phones.
There was also Oprah, which was cool. Joe's always liked Oprah.
After that comes the commercials, the American Idol finale, more tour prep. Oh, and yeah, their own TV show. There's that too, along with Chelsea, who he hangs out with for like five minutes and everyone goes into a frenzy. It's really funny. He's one of those guys now.
Then there's Ashley and Ashley and Kelsey and Ashley leaving eight hundred word messages on their MySpace about how sexy and gorgeous he is. There's the marriage proposals, and some of them are downright creepy. Some girls even talk about how their parents are in the middle of a huge fight or how they're going through chemo, and regardless of how weird it is, it's still pretty sad.
Nick and Kevin get the messages and the proposals and just as many picture comments as Joe does, but pretty soon Joe's at the center of every photo of them together. He's the one whose name is called the most on the red carpets and even in regular street crowds. It starts happening more and more as Camp Rock's being promoted.
All they can do is just go along with it, just do what they're told like they always do. If Kevin notices, he doesn't say anything, even though Nick will make a comment once in a while that always sends Joe crashing back to reality. It's the three of them, now and until they're done, because you can break up a band but you can't break up your family.
* * *
The day they start packing to go to Europe with Avril, their parents and their publicist sit them down to explain the dos and don'ts of the tour: don't drink, don't smoke, don't hang out with Avril or her crew except for photo ops, don't swear in the vicinity of a fan or a video camera or on stage, don't be intimate with the opposite sex in any capacity, don't be seen eating McDonald's, do be polite, smile, give autographs even when you'd rather be doing anything but, and a million other things.
Joe can't help but feel that most of this is being directed towards him, because Nick's too young to do any of this crap anyway and Kevin's too smart and business-minded to act up and he knows what would happen if he did.
For the first leg of the tour, they stay out of trouble like they always do. There's not enough time to mess up even if they'd wanted to, with being in Europe and seeing places they'd never have been able to before. Europe is awesome and it gets better with every show they put on. The meet and greets, too, because girls with accents are hot.
Joe and Kevin share hotel rooms, mostly because of their similar grooming habits, mostly because they just always have. Kevin has the better clothes anyway, and if Joe gets bored last minute with what he has, it's way easier to go through Kevin's stuff.
* * *
They fly back home for the movie premiere, and that's an experience all in itself. The screaming of the fans is the loudest thing Joe's ever heard, and there are camera flashes all over the place until he's nearly blind.
"Hey, remember when you guys were just a band?" Demi asks Joe during the after party.
The crazy thing is, no he doesn't.
* * *
Italy, tour, double decker buses, German food is gross, screaming girls, pictures, flying in airplanes, sleeping, Spanish chicks are hot, Kevin snores way too loud, tour, Avril's kind of a bitch, screaming girls, free stuff, pictures, Nick and his psycho girlfriend, pictures, sleeping, screaming girls.
* * *
Then it's their turn.
"Dude, this is us," Kevin says while they're on the plane to Toronto. "Our tour."
"Our fans, baby," Joe says. "Not just a bunch of wannabe punk girls with too much eye stuff on."
"Livin' the dream," Nick says, closing his eyes and resting his head back so that it's in the space between his seat and the window. Joe quickly tries to remember the last time Nick's eaten. He counts the hours on his fingers, but it's been such a whacked-out day and he doesn't even really know what time it is now, other than it's getting dark out. Either way, this jet has really good chefs and their mom will make sure they eat soon.
"Livin' the dream," Joe echoes, as he leans against Nick's arm, trying to catch the last of Los Angeles out the window before he falls asleep.
* * *
They're two days into the tour and everything's already awesome. There were like, a million people in Toronto, and they were screaming so loudly that no one could think, even, and Joe can't think of any tour they've done where the whole audience was so into it. He feels electric, like everything inside him is buzzing nonstop and he can't sit still. He has to, though, when they drive through the night to make it to Detroit in time. He settles down eventually, after launching himself into his bunk, putting the Zutons on his iPod and kicking his feet along the ceiling until Nick's head appears from above.
"Yeah, some of us are tired, Joe."
Joe shrugs. "I can't help it if you're being all sensitive. Besides," he pulls out one of his ear buds, feeling it pulse against his neck as he props himself up on his elbows, just enough so he doesn't hit his head, "you've slept through a lot worse."
Nick's grin turns into a yawn. "Like your snoring."
"Whatever, Nicholas." Joe reaches out to swipe his hair. "I'll go back to rooming with Kev, no problem."
"Nah. Not necessary." Nick either winks or blinks all lopsided at him, Joe can't tell in the dim light of the bus. What he can tell is that Nick looks exhausted, after only one night on tour. He feels like an asshole.
"Get some sleep, I'll cut it out." Joe should probably get some sleep too, or else he'll look awful tomorrow and Kevin will never shut up about it and chase him with some tea bags to get rid of puffiness.
"'Kay." Nick pauses for a second, staring at him. "Zutons?"
"You could tell?" Joe shouldn't be surprised.
"It was the beat." Nick definitely winks this time before disappearing. Well. Maybe Joe's better at drumming than he thought. Nice.
He falls asleep still blasting the music, so when they stop it takes Nick poking his shoulder repeatedly before he opens his eyes.
"Urggh," he clears his throat, "okay, let me try that again. What is it?"
Nick stretches. "We're stopped at the border, or something."
Joe pushes aside the curtain, rolling out of the bunk and stretching, leaning on Nick. "Are we going to have to be Canadians now?"
Nick rolls his eyes. "Yep."
Joe notices his Dad moving around up near the front. "Hey Dad?"
Dad turns. "Joseph?"
"Don't tell them you forged my birth certificate." He can feel Nick's shoulders shake with laughter next to him, but he's shaking his head.
"Dude, come on." Nick's voice is low, and he elbows Joe's side.
Dad's got his nose pinched between his fingers like he does when, well, whenever Joe doesn't know to stop. He can't help it.
"Sorry Dad, I'll just wait here."
"Silently," Nick supplies.
"Basically almost silently." Joe nods.
Dad's already waving his hand, walking out the door and talking to someone outside. Joe looks out the window.
"Dude, we should go to the duty-free shop."
Nick looks over his shoulder. "That place? It looks...I don't think we want to go there."
"Yeah, but it's free of duty."
Kevin speaks up, shuffling his feet behind them, his voice a few notches deeper than normal. "We're not going to do that."
"You know, Kev, sometimes you're like Dad Jr." Joe punches him in the shoulder.
"Look at the bridge," Nick's got his face pressed up against the window, and Joe remembers how he'd do that every time it'd snow when they were little, leaving a noseprint on the glass that Mom would complain about but never wipe off. The air's on in the bus, and Joe can see Nick's breath fog across the glass, in and out.
Kevin leans over, looking outside. "Wow, all the lights."
Joe squints. "Bassador Ridge?"
Nick starts laughing. "I think it's supposed to be Ambassador Bridge, Joe."
"Well, someone should tell the lights maintainer guy that." Joe can feel the energy seeping out from his pores suddenly, feels the kind of tired where your bones might be melting into everything else. "I hope we can get some more sleep at the hotel this morning." He yawns, pushing back the hair that's always falling in his eyes.
"Why don't you try and get some sleep now? I think Dad's handling everything." Nick twists his neck, watching whatever's going on outside. Joe thinks that he looks better than he did earlier, and he feels relaxed, like he's finally uncoiled completely from the show.
"Maybe I will. Kevin," he drapes his arm over Kev's shoulders, "I'm sorry I called you Dad Jr."
"I'll let it slide this time, Joseph."
Joe grins, ducking his head and hopping into his bunk again. "I'll be in my bunk, you guys."
"Night, Joe." He can hear their voices echoing back at him as he closes his eyes, feeling surrounded by the narrow walls, feeling warm.
* * *
From there the tour goes by fast, so fast. It's awesome, because every night everything seems to go so perfect - Demi's rocking out all over the place and the fans are going crazy, all the time, everywhere they go. One night in Dallas the crowd gets so loud that they have to stop playing, just full on stop, so that things can die down a little before they continue. Mom can't get over that, especially since it's the first time she was able to fully watch the show with everything, even though Joe knows she hates the flips ever since the one time Nick fell on his head when they were younger. She even cries, just a little bit, when she talks about it afterward, and Joe rests his chin on the top of her head and hugs her while she holds Nick's hand and Kevin just shakes his head in disbelief because, yeah, this is all really happening. It really is.
In Phoenix things are extra nice since it's a little like home, and they can see Grandpa and how he's doing. The only thing is, the heat is awful and Joe's pretty sure that the reason they moved is because all of their hair explodes the minute they step outside. Jersey's much more conducive to Jonas hair. It's especially bad when they have to stand and do a meet and greet with about 400 fans, and Kevin keeps asking everyone if they know what the signs of heat stroke are and Joe can't stop watching Nick's face as he leans over whatever he's signing, looking for something that might be off. But he's fine. They're all fine, and the tour goes on.
They're doing so much that Joe's losing track of his days and cities again, getting to that hazy point on the tour. Press and Chevy stuff and conference calls and filming their concert movie (3-D, Joe can't get over how his kicks are going to just pop-out and have dimension) and performances and fans everywhere, outside of venues and their hotel, half of them wearing red dresses, which was funny at first (especially when Kev finally said, after one night where Nick said he counted at least 20 girls wearing them, "who would wear a dress like that to a concert?" and Joe started to say something before Nick gave him a look). Avril joins up with them for a few dates, which is nice except how it's not really, and Joe and Nick stay up one night until 3 AM talking about things she's said and laughing until Nick says he feels bad and they should go to bed, anyway. Joe doesn't get how he can be so good, all the time. Joe's exhausted enough trying to be good most of the time. If Nick and Kev weren't around, he's not sure what he'd do.
Things get even crazier around the time Rolling Stone comes out, fans showing up and asking them to sign the cover, giggling and refusing to make eye contact. Joe can't get over how it all turned out, and he's kind of startled every time he sees how he looks. Everyone had noticed it, when they first saw the mock-ups and Mom and Dad had agreed to it (which, he's still not entirely sure how that happened). Kev had stared for a minute and said, "Joe, you look like you're trying to have sex with everyone," which, yeah. Sometimes Joe'll see the copy that's always floating around their bus and wonder if he's trying to seduce himself, which is enough of a problem when you're on tour and you're around your brothers and everyone else all. the. time. It's frustrating, and sometimes he finds himself getting up earlier than he needs to, taking an extra long shower and taking care of things. They all do it, he knows that. They talk about it even, sometimes, Nick across the room and punch drunk, sleepily saying that sometimes he wishes they didn't spend all year on tour so he could have time to jerk off whenever he wanted. Joe'd been surprised, then, both at how Nick just said what he was thinking, and he also wondered if Nick had known, at the time, that Joe was lying there trying to will his erection away so he could sleep. If Nick could hear the unsteadiness in Joe's voice when he replied, "y-yeah, that'd be nice," running his palm over himself once before swallowing hard and closing his eyes again.
* * *
MTV's following them around when they get to New York for their Madison Square Garden shows, and it's weird and awesome. Joe doesn't mind having cameras in his face all the time; in fact, he kind of loves it sometimes, it's something to focus on other than how busy they are or how far they are from a break. He knows that Kevin feels the same way, that he loves explaining to anyone who'll listen about the stupid stuff they do, or how unbelievably blessed they are.
Nick's different, as usual. They're waiting to go somewhere, away from the cameras for a minute, and Joe can hear Nick laughing.
"What?"
Nick smiles. "I don't know, I just, I wonder how many fans are going to see some of this stuff and start like, warning people about ninjas and pirates in the street, you know?"
"Yeah," Joe starts laughing, too, elbowing Kevin. "They're just doing service to their community, right?"
Kevin nods. "Right."
Nick doesn't say anything else and they push through the screaming fans to get inside, and, well, Joe can't help but think about how Nick is so aware of shit like that, all the time. Or how sometimes he's so focused on what they're about to do that he can't repeat whatever the camera guy's asking him to say, so Joe steps in to help.
Later, they're backstage and Joe's having a Segway race with Kevin (and kicking his ass all over the place), when Joe notices them interviewing Nick in some corner, a serious look on his face. Joe cuts Kevin off and jumps down, dancing over to where Nick is, singing some song about dancing it out, making him laugh and join in. This is the stuff that people like to watch, anyway. They don't need to listen to Nick say for the millionth time that he doesn't want to talk about Miley or Selena or whatever other girl someone somewhere has pictures of him with. It just gets old and stressful, all of that girl shit. Like, Joe's been talking to Taylor for a couple of weeks now, and apparently she's coming to see them for their last show, but honestly, whatever. She's cool and all, but he just doesn't have time for that, and he'd rather get some extra sleep than talk on the phone forever. Besides, he knows from Kevin that if it mattered, he'd rather talk than sleep, so. Which is why he'd switched, actually, to rooming with Nick since Kev was on the phone with Danielle talking about who loves who more all the damn time, and while Joe's happy for him he'd also like to be able to stomach his oatmeal in the morning without a million declarations of true love, thanks.
Not that it matters right now, since they all have their own rooms for the first time in forever because Mom's cooked up some sort of deal with MTV where they'll follow her around as she wakes them up. Which she does do, sometimes, but never like this. Joe kind of likes having his own room, though, just for one night, although he misses having Nick nearby, or Kevin. He gets better sleep, anyway, so much better that he doesn't hear his phone the first few hundred times it rings. He finally unlocks his door, climbing back into bed and hoping Mom will get hung up so he can get just five more minutes. His phone rings again, though, and after seeing it's Nick he answers.
"This better be good."
Nick's voice sounds groggier than usual, and Joe can almost imagine his face, his eyes half closed. "Just wanted to warn you, Mom's on her way."
Joe burrows deeper under the covers, pressing the phone harder to his ear. "I know."
"It's a lot of cameras, just so you know."
"Great."
"I woke up with a boom mic in my face."
"Awesome." Joe can hear them in the hallway. "She's here. See you soon?"
Nick sighs. "Yeah. Good luck."
And then Mom's there, smoothing her hand across his forehead and talking to him in her soothing morning voice and, if it wasn't for the cameras and lights everywhere, all up in his face, it almost feels like home.
* * *
One of the last things MTV films is them playing Halo before the show, and Joe's in the zone. He never beats Nick so thoroughly, ever. Nick's serious concentration usually adds up to Halo dominance, but not now, with a camera in his face. Joe knows that he should probably say or do something to get the heat off of Nick, but he also wants to feel the satisfaction of victory, just this one time. It's not as fun when the only person he has Halo bragging rights over is Kevin, and even then it's not that great since Kev is like, a savant at Madden. Plus, even Frankie freaking beat him the other day and he needs some sort of redemption.
He finally wins, throwing down his control and standing, lifting his hands up in the air.
"Bow down to me, Nick, because I just owned you."
Nick frowns, tugging on his hair. "Sure, I'll bow down now that you've beat me, this one time."
"One time is all it takes." Joe crosses his arms. "I'm waiting, Nicholas."
Shooting a glance at the cameras filming something with Kevin in the corner, Nick smiles, ducking his head down, bending his knees slightly. "We good?"
"Hmmm," Joe taps his finger on his chin, "I'll accept that, even though I could tell you didn't really mean it."
"Oh, I totally meant it." Nick blinks at him, twice, a half smile on his face.
"Nice try, Nicky, but that doesn't work on me, since I'm not a girl." Joe moves quickly, grabbing him and pulling him into a headlock, messing with his hair. Nick wraps his arm around Joe's waist, pushing him onto the couch behind them, their legs tangling together.
"Ready for the show now?" Nick's voice sounds like he's slightly out of breath, his lips smushed against Joe's neck.
Joe twists away, elbowing Nick's hip as he gets up. "Oh, I'm so ready. Let's do this."
* * *
Buffalo. They've been bouncing around New York for the past few days, celebrating their album release and putting in appearances everywhere. Joe feels like he hasn't been able to breathe fully for almost a week, but more and more reviews keep coming in and it's looking like they have a decent shot at number one. They can't believe it.
He's on the stage, and they're finishing up "Pushing Me Away." Everything up until now has felt so right, so energized, so on, so Joe notices that something's off with Nick. It's small and he doesn't think even Kev or any of the guys in the band can tell, but his voice sounds...weaker. Or something. Joe's so used to singing with Nick, letting their voices blend together that he can almost feel it, along the back of his neck, when they aren't gelling. They finish the song and Kev immediately starts yelling things at the crowd, pumping his fist in the air and letting them scream. Joe gestures to Kevin, bowing while everyone applauds, and says, low into the special mics that are wired just for the three of them, "You okay, Nicky?"
Nick's voice sounds a little shaky when he answers. "Gotta go take care of something, it's fine."
Joe looks over at Nick as he backs up, leaving the stage and handing his guitar off to someone. He looks sweaty, but not good sweaty. Joe can hear his blood in his ears, a steady thumping pulse, and then Kev's there, his arm around him.
"Plan B?" Kevin's calm voice steadies Joe a bit, and he can swallow again.
Joe nods, flipping the switch in the back of his mind, pretending that he can't hear Nick through the mics still, pretending that he can't hear Mom saying in her calm voice that they'll inject it in his stomach this time, or Dad thanking Big Rob for getting some juice.
"Buff-a-loooo!" Joe yells, and the crowd goes wild in response. They set up the mics for this exact reason, but Joe really wishes that they weren't necessary, Jesus Mary and Joseph. He's on autopilot, and starts working the crowd, reading signs painted in pink glitter, accepting any offer for prom or marriage he can see. He doesn't think anyone notices that Nick's gone, and in reality he knows that he's only gone for a minute or two, but it feels like forever, feels awful.
"Back." Nick's voice is in his ear, but Joe just keeps going, because he can hear how Nick's breathing is still off by half a beat.
"What do you think, Kev? Should I marry...Ali?" The girl holding the sign screams so loud Joe can hear her over everything else, and he worries for a minute that he'll be responsible for someone near her going deaf, or for her passing out. That'll go over well.
"I think so, Joe." Kevin's laughing, looking behind Joe at Nick, and Joe can tell by the relieved look on Kevin's face that everything's going to be okay.
"How many fiancees do you have now, Joe?" Nick's laughing in Joe's ear, and Joe releases his death grip on his mic. He shakes out his hand and moves his hair out of his eyes, and his knuckles ache.
"This next one is for all the beautiful girls in the audience," Joe starts, and glances over at Nick when the crowd erupts. Nick nods at him, grinning. He looks okay again, maybe a little pale. Joe can feel the hair at the back of his neck curling in the heat, and he stands next to Nick, wrapping his arm around his skinny shoulders. Nick leans into him.
* * *
Backstage, everyone surrounds Nick, insulating him, and Joe can't get close. He stands on the edges of everything and watches as Mom puts her hand on the side of Nick's face, looking into his eyes. Joe can tell Nick's annoyed, and he smiles to himself.
Demi's next to him, her eyes wide. "Nick okay?"
Joe looks down at her, and can tell she's mentally composing her text to Selena. "He's fine. You know Nick, Dem."
She nods. "Yeah."
"Seriously, he's fine." Joe knows he's talking a little too loud, because Demi's eyes get wider and Kev gives him a weird look from where he's standing a few feet away, on the phone. He says it again, a little more quietly, "he's fine."
Demi makes a humming noise, patting his arm. He bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching the top of Nick's head, all he can see now that more people are around. They have a meet and greet to get to. Joe can keep a better eye on him then. Nick's gonna hate it.
* * * * *
They're finally done for the day, a little earlier than usual. Nick's alone in his hotel room, enjoying the silence. In the week since MTV left he and Joe have kept their separate rooms, which has been nice, kind of. Especially now, because Nick gets that Joe's worried after what happened at the show earlier, but he was hovering like Dad at the meet and greet, and Nick just wants to breathe again.
The thing is, it's not a big deal when Mom or Dad or Kev or anyone else is constantly watching him, like he's about to fall over at any moment, but with Joe...it's unsettling. Joe watches him, sure, but it's never like that, it's more like something that makes Nick feel safe, not smothered. Joe definitely switched over to smother today at the meet and greet. Still, though, Nick almost wishes Joe was there now, distracting him with some random dance or song or stupid joke.
As if on cue, someone knocks on the door, and it's Joe's special one that they came up with when they were kids, where he uses both his fists and it sounds like someone's drumming outside. Nick lets him in.
"Hey." Nick unbuttons the top of his shirt, pushes up his sleeves.
"Mom wanted me to bring you these." Joe tosses a box of testing strips at him before draping himself across the chair Nick had been sitting in, propping his feet up on the coffee table. One of the velcro strips on his shoe is loose, and Nick grabs it on his way to the table across the room, ripping it up and smoothing it down.
"Thanks, bro."
"Someone has to watch out for your appearance." Nick sits down, opening up his testing kit, lining up everything in a row in front of him. "Mom wanted me to check again, right?"
"Yeah, and I'm supposed to call her if anything's weird." Joe's back to normal, grinning and watching him like it's just something he does, even if Nick didn't have diabetes. Like he did before, when he noticed everything that was going on, or when they were young and Joe automatically shielded him when the truck hit their car. Some people are lucky to have their life saved once, but Joe's saved his twice.
"I feel good now, but it's fine, it's better to do this now when I have a minute." Nick opens the box, pulls out a couple of strips and fits one in the monitor. He reaches for the bottle of test fluid.
"Coding the instruments?" Joe's voice sounds rough, like he's drifting away.
"As usual." Nick carefully puts a drop on the strip, making sure not to get the bright red liquid on his fingers.
"It's so gross that they make the fake blood red." Joe makes a face, his dark eyebrows knitting together.
"They're going for realism, I guess." His monitor beeps, and he checks it to make sure it's within range, that the strips are accurate. "Besides, I think that it's red for a reason."
"Whatever, still gross." Joe yawns. "'Member when you were starting a new box on the Avril tour, and ended up spilling that shit all over my shirt?"
"I remember how pissed you were, yes." Nick gets his lancet loaded, puts a new strip into the monitor.
"Well, you ruined my favorite shirt."
Nick looks up at him. "You were wearing Kevin's shirt, Joe."
"Like I said, you ruined Kevin's favorite shirt. You know," he sits up a little, his fingers playing with the end of his scarf, "it's not fair that your disease comes with cool high tech accessories."
Nick laughs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, it really has its perks."
"Seriously," Joe grins. "I mean, when I get a cold, I just get snot."
"Gross," Nick says, under his breath. Joe always does this when Nick's testing himself, talking and joking. It helps. Even though it's been long enough that most everything is part of his life now, not a big deal, it's nice to have the distraction. He sets the lancet, hearing the click as it pierces his finger. Squeezing down, a drop that he knows isn't big enough to register appears.
"Shit," he says, reloading the lancet and adjusting the depth. He rubs his finger, trying to warm it with the friction.
"Fingers too cold?" Joe's voice comes from across the room, and when Nick looks up he's staring at him again, his eyes only halfway open.
"Yeah," Nick sighs. "I think it's just that the air's on too high in here, or something."
"Need me to come blow on your finger? I'm hot stuff, after all." He raises his eyebrows and Nick laughs, remembering the girl who called him that today at the meet and greet.
"Nah, I got it." Nick gets enough blood this time, and cleans up while he waits for the beep. "104."
"Good." Joe has his eyes closed. "I don't have to call Mom, then."
Nick watches Joe's chest rise and fall in a slow tempo. "Why don't you go to your room? Get some sleep, 'cause we're starting all this again tomorrow."
"Oh," Joe murmurs, and Nick walks closer to him so he can hear, "I'm staying here tonight."
"Uh, what?" Nick's kind of glad, actually. Really happy. But. "That's not necessary. I thought that you liked it better having your own room."
"I lied." Joe's eyes are open now. "Besides, it's either me staying with you, or Mom. It's your choice, Nicholas."
"Yeah, I choose you. But," Nick backs up closer to the bedroom, getting a head start, "I get first dibs on the bed by the window."
* * *
Wyckoff is about an hour away from Holmdel, where they're set to play tonight at the Arts Center, but Mom really wants to see the old house to make sure the lilacs in the front are still there and that whoever's living in the house now is keeping up with the lawn.
It's not something you think about often when you're on the road, at least Nick doesn't, but the closer they get to home the more it sinks in that this isn't home anymore. They don't take the tour bus through the old town because it would stir up way too much attention and Mom and Dad want to keep their visit low-key. It's bad enough that anyone who's following the tour knows they're there anyway.
Nick stares out the window of the Tahoe at the gray humidity and the slow late-summer drizzle of New Jersey, and he remembers a lot of things. He hadn't been born here like Kevin was, but it never felt like he wasn't. He remembers pulling into the driveway at four o'clock in the morning after being in the city all night in a show, riding bikes down their block and summers of spending eight hours in the pool and camping out back. There were big dinners with friends after church on Sundays and snowball fights in the front yard on snow days. Joe always cheated and Kevin would cry when his socks got wet.
They pass by the library and Joe kind of sighs from where he's sitting in the seat behind Nick.
"Back in the dirty Jerz," Joe says. "It's so weird, being here right now."
Nick doesn't answer, but he silently agrees. It is weird. He thought he'd be a little sadder than he actually is, but maybe it's okay that he's not. It's not like they can come back for good.
Joe keeps talking and it's as if he's directing what he says to Nick only. Nick can see out of the corner of his eye that Joe's moved all close to Nick's seat in front of him and he has his head against the glass so that his voice sort of travels through the space between Nick's seat and the window.
"Maybe we should write a song about it," Joe says distractedly. "It can be about how the weather here is gross and depressing and it smells like factory."
When they drive past their old house (slowly, in the off chance someone recognizes the truck), Nick kind of feels lonely. Even though he's in a car with his entire family, Mom in the front and Frankie bouncing around in the backseat, he feels like he misses something but he's not sure what.
"Dude, this is all making me really want to do our show tonight," Joe says. "Like, I'm excited for it a lot right now." It's a totally random thing to say, but weirdly enough, it's exactly how Nick feels too. It's kind of like the shows and the tour and the crowds are what they go home to every night, instead of this tiny house with its white picket fence in the suburbs.
"Yeah." Nick leans against his window, and the leather creaks behind him as Joe sits back. "It's gonna be so awesome."
* * *
Maybe it's because of visiting their old house earlier, or because the show went so well that it's still coursing through his veins, but Nick can't sleep. He's tried everything, tried writing songs in his head, tried to name the last ten cities they've been in in correct order, tried listening to Joe breathing in the next bed, the comforting sound of his dull snore. It's dark, and Nick can just make out his brother's sleeping form. Joe turns over, and Nick clears his throat.
"Hey, Joe?"
There's a beat of silence before Nick can hear Joe exhale, slowly. "Yeah?"
"You up?"
Joe groans. "If I answered you, then yeah, I'm up."
"Sorry, I was just..." Nick trails off, turning over his pillow and pressing his cheek into the cool material.
"Can't sleep?" Joe lets the question hang in the air between them, and Nick doesn't answer. "I know. Sometimes, when we're so out there, all the time, it's hard to come down, right?"
Nick nods, and he can hear the rustle of Joe getting up and then feels the mattress dip and shift with his weight.
"Move over," Joe puts his warm hand on Nick's shoulder, "because I can't hear you nodding from across the room."
"Right." Nick smiles involuntarily, curling on his side while Joe settles on his back next to him.
Joe stares at the ceiling. "Today was weird."
"Yeah." Nick doesn't know what else to say, knows that Joe's just starting up.
"It's like...I don't know, it's like today I realized that this is it, you know?" He doesn't look over at Nick, keeps his eyes on the ceiling. Patches of moonlight from the partially uncovered window leave patterns on his face, lines across his nose, sloping down over his cheek.
"It's our life now." Nick wishes he could explain it better, but Joe's nodding and Nick remembers who he's talking to.
"It's a pretty awesome life. Dude, remember when we'd joke about girls screaming all the time and getting like, thousands of people at our shows and just...being rockstars?"
"Sometimes I wonder if we deserve it all." Nick holds his breath, waiting for Joe to answer, because, yes, he does wonder that. Why them? They're just three brothers who love to make music.
Joe doesn't move his head, and for whatever reason that makes everything closer, louder. "You deserve it." His voice cracks, and Nick can't remember the last time that's happened.
"You too." And he does. Nick wishes he could tell Joe how everything's better with him and Kev around, especially Joe. How he's glad that the producer a million years ago said Nick going solo wouldn't work as well as a band of brothers, considering how good Joe and Nick sounded when they sang together.
"Nah, I'm just along for the ride. And the free stuff. And line hopping." Joe's arm is between them, radiating heat. Nick leans closer, his knee bumping Joe's leg.
"Yeah, I know how much you always hated having to wait in line at Disney."
Joe laughs. "Well, not all of us have the patience to wait two hours to ride It's A Small World, which is the lamest fucking thing ever."
"Well, I was six, what do you want?"
"I want a cooler brother."
"Kev's down the hall, go right ahead."
Joe snorts. "Yeah, no thanks. I've already seen the Kevin and Danielle are in love show, and I don't like repeats."
"He's really happy." And the thing is, he is. Kev's naturally a happy person, but...this is different. Sometimes Nick wishes he had someone like that to keep him grounded when everything else is so hectic. Everything he's ever had with girls, Miley and Selena and everyone else, was constant stress on top of it all. Or, as Joe calls it, "the dramz."
"You happy, Nicky?" Joe's getting sleepy again, Nick can tell. And actually, Nick's feeling more relaxed than he's been in weeks, comfortable and happy.
"Yeah," Nick says, and he is. "You?"
"Always." Joe reaches out his hand, ruffling Nick's hair. "We're doing good, right?"
"We are."
"Feeling okay?" Joe says it automatically, and Nick feels something warm pool in his chest, flooding everywhere, down his arms and legs.
"I feel good. Tired."
Joe smiles, and in the dim light Nick can see his eyes are closing. "Finally."
"Night, Joe."
"Night." Joe's arm relaxes even more next to him.
"Love you." Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, like he's moving underwater, and Nick kisses Joe. He's so tired, tired and warm and happy, and he catches Joe's bottom lip between his own, smooth and hot.
Nick pulls back, his face still hovering over Joe's, so close that when Joe opens his eyes Nick can feel his eyelashes against his cheek.
"Oh," Joe says, and a cloud passes over the window. Nick can't see Joe's eyes, only knows that they're dark and a little unfocused since he's not wearing his glasses. Nick feels like he's paralyzed.
"Oh." Nick licks his lips and pauses before kissing Joe again, this time full on the lips. Joe turns his head, kissing him back slowly, lazily. His mouth opens under Nick's, his tongue sweeping across Nick's bottom lip. Nick can't breathe, tries to remember what the hell he usually does with his hands. He settles on resting one on Joe's shoulder, which feels like it's burning under his palm, his other tangling in Joe's hair, the waves threading through his fingers.
Joe pulls back, breathing like he does sometimes when they share a room and he thinks Nick's asleep in the middle of the night. Nick kisses him one more time, and Joe's lips are soft.
The room is quiet, and Nick can feel his heart pounding, but he feels calm, safe. Like kissing Joe is just something he does. It's weird, he knows, but a part of him wishes that he had done it sooner. Like it's just an extension of everything else. But then he looks a Joe, whose eyes are still open, and he's terrified again, overwhelmed.
"Get some sleep." When he finally talks, Joe's voice is low and uneven, and Nick wonders.
* * *
Part Two.
Authors: fiorie and miss_bennie
Fandom: Jonas Brothers RPF
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 18,300 total; 9436 for Part One.
Warnings: Incest, underage. Oh God.
Summary: It's the three of them, now and until they're done, because you can break up a band but you can't break up your family.
Authors' Notes: No disrespect intended, etc. Just for fun.
After two months of recording in a bus, being in the studio again feels good. The bus had been awesome, there's no denying that, but it was cramped and there was always weird interference through the mics, and forget it if one of them had to go to the bathroom, because the toilet didn't flush. And where there was the ability to tour and record at the same time, there was also a camera documenting their every move. Even on days when your voice was off and you had to do so many takes of "Tonight" that you started forgetting the words, you had to be happy for the camera. Everything needed to be cool at all times, including the sold out shows they were putting on nearly every single night. Joe and his brothers and their entire family had been grateful for the bus; it was necessary. But sometimes it really, really sucked.
So they're back in the studio, back in Burbank, and things are finally coming together on this album. The tours had been insane - both theirs and Miley's - and most of the time whenever Joe would ask someone where in the United States they were, he'd get an answer way off from what he'd been expecting. Texas looks like Arkansas which sometimes looks like Arizona when you're really tired and when all you're seeing of them is the highway outside the windows of a bus. The fact that they'd been able to pull everything off and still make the fans happy and sell out arenas right and left, well. That proves exactly how awesome they are. How awesome everyone is.
They'd been told that if they came in to record the finishing touches of the album and could get it done in a few hours or so, they'd be able to take the next day off, and Joe needs a day off. He needs to sleep in a place that isn't on its way somewhere. He needs to not wake up until two o'clock and to play Xbox, and eat his mom's baked ziti and then go back to sleep for, like, ever.
Eventually they've started to learn that they never really know what's going to come up the day after tomorrow. There's always a last minute radio station interview or photo shoot with Cosmo Girl or they find out they're opening for Avril in two months. So when someone tells you that if you get your work done you can do whatever you want for twenty-four straight hours, you get it done.
One-thirty in the morning hits, and John the producer tells Joe his vocals are done. It finally feels like things are wrapping up for real for the first time all night. There had been days, weeks even, when it felt like the studio bus just wasn't going to cut it, when they were seriously doubting their ability to be able to tour for themselves and tour for someone else and shoot a movie and record an album all at once. They didn't always think they'd be able to make all the fans happy all the time, but making the fans happy is their thing. It's always been their thing, whether or not it's what they want for themselves twenty-four seven. But the truth is, they could do it. Without anything even being compromised in the process.
Kevin's there too, along with Joe and Nick, even though Kevin has nothing else to record and all of his guitar parts and whatever vocals he had were all done on the bus. Nick's really the one they're focusing on tonight, what with the drums and cleaning up some of his guitar solos and vocal solos.
Joe watches as Nick thrashes away at the drum set in the percussion room. He kind of looks like Animal from The Muppets and it's awesome. There's really nothing like seeing Nick play any instrument, but the drums especially. He loses himself in it and he seems to completely forget that anyone's watching him at all. They're all kind of like that when they're on stage, but Nick's the only one who stays completely unaware of anything but the music he's making.
Joe catches Nick's eye across the room from where he's standing by the controls. He pretends like he's playing drums the way Nick does, flailing around wildly and whipping his head up and down, and Nick rolls his eyes and plays a rimshot.
To be honest, the studio they're in isn't any bigger than the bus was, with the amount of people around. John Fields and John Taylor are both there, Jack and Garbo too, and a bunch of recording guys. Photographers are coming and going, taking pictures for what they're saying is going to be a book soon, and a few shots for the website.
Jimmy the engineer wants another cut of Nick's drum part to go along with his vocals on "Video Girl," and instead of sneaking out of the room to go see who's waiting around outside (because sometimes you're really better off not knowing who's waiting around outside), Joe stays where he is. He rolls up an extra chair by where Kevin's sitting in the closed off area next to the control room, drinking a Red Bull with a laptop on his knees. They're tired, beyond tired, and they haven't had real food or seen daylight in over nine hours, so drinks with tons of sugar and caffeine are what's keeping them awake. Red Bull and stupid jokes and laughing - that's the only way to look alive when you haven't had a full night's sleep in a year.
Joe tries to see what Kevin's doing on his computer and it looks like he's maybe checking their MySpace, but it's hard to tell. Kevin has this compulsive need to look at their song play counts all the time. He knows exactly how many millions of times "S.O.S." has been played on MySpace at any given moment.
Kevin's typing away and Joe reaches over to try to tap a key, but Kevin swipes the laptop away from him. Kevin's pretty quick. "Stop trying to break my computer," he says to Joe.
"I wasn't," Joe says. Sometimes Kevin's awesome, but sometimes when he's tired he's kind of a douchebag. "Jesus Christ."
"Joseph," his dad warns, turning his head from where he's talking to the photographer. God, it's like his dad is everywhere, all the time.
"It's okay, Dad," Kevin says. "It's just past Joe's bedtime and he's acting up."
Big Rob comes over just then, all fake-scary, and grabs Joe by the back of the neck. Hard, until Joe has to stand up and squeeze his shoulders upwards. "Don't make me pick you up and take you outside," Rob says, and he's joking, but he definitely could. With one finger.
"Keep going, maybe kind of lower," Joe says to Rob. "I'm a little tense."
Rob just shakes his head, but Joe's bored and if he stops moving he'll probably pass out, so he challenges Rob to a freestyle contest.
"I will beat you so hard," Joe says. "Young Jeezy, ever heard of him? He taught me everything he knows."
"I was there when you met Jeezy, man," Rob laughs. "It was sad. Embarrassing."
Kevin laughs. "Yeah, dude, you almost crapped your pants that night."
Jesus, you clam up one time in front of Young Jeezy and nobody ever lets you live it down. For the record, he's kind of scary looking in person.
Joe raps anyway, something about cherry limeade and Gucci shoes. It doesn't rhyme nor does it make any sense, but it makes everyone stand around him and laugh. He doesn't even know what he's talking about anymore, he's so exhausted, and he's vaguely aware that his dad's got a camera out. This will all probably be on YouTube tomorrow, which, whatever. Their lives are going to be on display on the Disney Channel in a couple of months so it's all kind of familiar at this point.
Nick comes out of the booth, finished drumming, and Ryan's the first one to give him a high five. Even though Ryan's got most of the drums on the album, it had been pretty major for Nick that he could record his own drum parts, and that they had time to come back here to make everything sound even better than it did on the bus.
"Nicholas," Joe says approvingly, raising both hands, and Nick slaps them with his.
"That was so awesome," Nick says, catching his breath and peeling off his sweater. "We finally got it to where it's-" He puts his thumb and forefinger together in a circle. "It's perfect, man."
Joe grabs a bottle of water from the shelf along the wall and passes it to his brother, messing up Nick's hair with his other hand while Nick tries to duck away.
"Dude, can we go home and, like, die now?" Joe asks no one in particular. It doesn't look like they're finishing up yet and he's wondering if there's a couch nearby that he could crash on until it's time to leave.
"Nick," Jimmy says, as Nick's taking a huge drink of water. "We need you back in there for 'A Little Bit Longer.' Some of the vocals we did earlier don't match up with the track, for whatever reason. Actually," he laughs, "we're going to need you to resing the entire song."
The three of them groan, Joe the loudest. It's the story of their life these days: Just when they think they're done with something, they find out they're only just getting started. There is no such thing as done anymore - it's always either almost there or not even close.
"Jim," Kevin whines. "This isn't freaking Abbey Road. What level of perfectionism are you going for? It's two-thirty in the morning."
"Yeah, dude," Joe adds. "You're cutting in on Kevin's special hair time."
"Dude, shut up," Nick says, waving Joe away. "I need this song to be right." He lets Jimmy lead him back inside to the control room and into the booth.
That's Nick, though. And Joe has to watch out for him sometimes. They all do - the family, the band, the crew - but Joe finds himself making sure Nick's checking his blood sugar even when he's too drained to remember his own name. He doesn't nag, because Nick gets pissed when you nag him, but he watches for it.
For a while, it had been obsessive. In the beginning, after they'd first found out about the diabetes, Joe would check the fridge of every green room, backstage, bus or limo they were ever in to make sure it was stocked with some kind of juice in case Nick's blood sugar went low (things you learn when your brother has diabetes: juice works faster). It had been just too freaky after Nick got all skinny and wiped out and was stuck in the hospital, and the thought of being without him was way too much. But now that they all see the way Nick's handling it himself, they've started to step back.
Joe's stepped back too, but not so far that he's unable to see. He and Nick share too much for him to be able to let it all rest on Nick's shoulders. And anyway, Nick's just a kid. When Joe was sixteen they were still in Jersey sharing one bathroom, their mom driving them to the skate park in Clifton every Saturday. They had no worries back then.
The room begins to clear out a bit while the crew and John and Garbo begin bringing stuff out to the buses, Kevin takes a call from Mom on his cell, Dad and Big Rob are off to make sure the truck's pulled up to the front for when they're ready to go home.
Joe goes back into the control room where it's quiet and it's just Jimmy and some other guy waiting to give Nick the go-ahead to start singing. Nick's in the sound booth with his sweater back on, hood over his head, and his eyes kind of have bags under them. He's so obviously spent, but he's always professional. He's different in the studio; he has the seriousness that Joe gets bored of way too easily.
Nick gets the green light and the guy next to Jimmy hands Joe an extra pair of headphones so that he's able to hear. Joe knows Nick's voice better than his own, and Nick's on point tonight.
As he watches Nick through the glass of the sound booth, he remembers how there were bad days at first, worse than bad days, even. The day Nick wrote the song - they were in Toronto filming the movie at the time - was one of the worst. Joe had been so busy on set, and when he wasn't shooting scenes he was doing schoolwork. When he wasn't doing schoolwork he was with choreographers, and when he wasn't with them he was still being paid to basically have a good time talking to extras and dicking around for the behind-the-scenes camera people. It had been the best thing ever, earning money just being himself, surrounded by a ton of cute girls who were all over him.
But it hadn't been the same for Nick. Sometimes it just isn't, and their mom's always said it's because Nick's artistic and things affect him differently. For Joe, the only way he'll worry about things is if he stops and thinks about them for too long. Luckily there's no time for that, because there's free iPhones and sneakers from LaCoste and Lauren Conrad thinking he's hot, and these things keep him occupied. For Nick, well. Nick gets blown away by it all, even after all this time.
That's why Nick wrote the song that day, all alone. And when he'd shown it to Joe, it had been this total overwhelming feeling of wow, Nick is good. Not just because he's his brother or because he's diabetic, but because he's good.
Watching Nick now, Joe notices the way he physically looks the same as he did the night in the hotel at that barely-tuned grand piano. He's all dark circles and messy hair and hiding in a sweatshirt. But listening to him, it's like he's a completely different person. Someone who's open about being freaked out, maybe.
Their dad used to talk in church all the time about being transparent - about always being honest and humble and never being something you're not - and this is Nick's way of doing it.
Joe closes his eyes at the F minor to the C to the G, because everything they've ever wanted is happening and yeah, Nick will be fine. He'll make sure of it.
The song's ready to mix as soon as Nick's finished with it, and Jimmy and the other guy get really excited.
"Fuck yeah!" The guy says.
"Your brother's a fucking rock star," Jimmy says to Joe. "In every sense of the word."
Nick emerges from the soundbooth even happier than he was after the drum parts.
"Dude," Joe says, wrapping his arms around Nick's neck and shoulders and rocking him back and forth. "You're a fucking rock star."
"Don't curse, Joe," Nick says, moving his body along with Joe's as if his bones are about to quit holding him upright.
"Whatever, Dad's not here." Joe moves his hands to the top of Nick's head and smiles. "Let's go get some food, Nicky."
* * *
It turns out that when you're pretty famous rock stars who've just finished recording their third album, you can go to Canter's at three-fifteen in the morning and they'll section off an entire area for you. Of course, when you're just eating burgers with your brothers and your dad and your friends, it's kind of like being back in Jersey, before anyone knew who you were.
* * *
The next few months fly by. They're all one wild, surreal blur - there's prep for the tour, making sure they're voted for Kids' Choice (and, to be fair, telling people to vote for them every five seconds gets really old, for an award that lame), and way too many girls named Ashley attacking them with Sharpies and pink Razr camera phones.
There was also Oprah, which was cool. Joe's always liked Oprah.
After that comes the commercials, the American Idol finale, more tour prep. Oh, and yeah, their own TV show. There's that too, along with Chelsea, who he hangs out with for like five minutes and everyone goes into a frenzy. It's really funny. He's one of those guys now.
Then there's Ashley and Ashley and Kelsey and Ashley leaving eight hundred word messages on their MySpace about how sexy and gorgeous he is. There's the marriage proposals, and some of them are downright creepy. Some girls even talk about how their parents are in the middle of a huge fight or how they're going through chemo, and regardless of how weird it is, it's still pretty sad.
Nick and Kevin get the messages and the proposals and just as many picture comments as Joe does, but pretty soon Joe's at the center of every photo of them together. He's the one whose name is called the most on the red carpets and even in regular street crowds. It starts happening more and more as Camp Rock's being promoted.
All they can do is just go along with it, just do what they're told like they always do. If Kevin notices, he doesn't say anything, even though Nick will make a comment once in a while that always sends Joe crashing back to reality. It's the three of them, now and until they're done, because you can break up a band but you can't break up your family.
* * *
The day they start packing to go to Europe with Avril, their parents and their publicist sit them down to explain the dos and don'ts of the tour: don't drink, don't smoke, don't hang out with Avril or her crew except for photo ops, don't swear in the vicinity of a fan or a video camera or on stage, don't be intimate with the opposite sex in any capacity, don't be seen eating McDonald's, do be polite, smile, give autographs even when you'd rather be doing anything but, and a million other things.
Joe can't help but feel that most of this is being directed towards him, because Nick's too young to do any of this crap anyway and Kevin's too smart and business-minded to act up and he knows what would happen if he did.
For the first leg of the tour, they stay out of trouble like they always do. There's not enough time to mess up even if they'd wanted to, with being in Europe and seeing places they'd never have been able to before. Europe is awesome and it gets better with every show they put on. The meet and greets, too, because girls with accents are hot.
Joe and Kevin share hotel rooms, mostly because of their similar grooming habits, mostly because they just always have. Kevin has the better clothes anyway, and if Joe gets bored last minute with what he has, it's way easier to go through Kevin's stuff.
* * *
They fly back home for the movie premiere, and that's an experience all in itself. The screaming of the fans is the loudest thing Joe's ever heard, and there are camera flashes all over the place until he's nearly blind.
"Hey, remember when you guys were just a band?" Demi asks Joe during the after party.
The crazy thing is, no he doesn't.
* * *
Italy, tour, double decker buses, German food is gross, screaming girls, pictures, flying in airplanes, sleeping, Spanish chicks are hot, Kevin snores way too loud, tour, Avril's kind of a bitch, screaming girls, free stuff, pictures, Nick and his psycho girlfriend, pictures, sleeping, screaming girls.
* * *
Then it's their turn.
"Dude, this is us," Kevin says while they're on the plane to Toronto. "Our tour."
"Our fans, baby," Joe says. "Not just a bunch of wannabe punk girls with too much eye stuff on."
"Livin' the dream," Nick says, closing his eyes and resting his head back so that it's in the space between his seat and the window. Joe quickly tries to remember the last time Nick's eaten. He counts the hours on his fingers, but it's been such a whacked-out day and he doesn't even really know what time it is now, other than it's getting dark out. Either way, this jet has really good chefs and their mom will make sure they eat soon.
"Livin' the dream," Joe echoes, as he leans against Nick's arm, trying to catch the last of Los Angeles out the window before he falls asleep.
* * *
They're two days into the tour and everything's already awesome. There were like, a million people in Toronto, and they were screaming so loudly that no one could think, even, and Joe can't think of any tour they've done where the whole audience was so into it. He feels electric, like everything inside him is buzzing nonstop and he can't sit still. He has to, though, when they drive through the night to make it to Detroit in time. He settles down eventually, after launching himself into his bunk, putting the Zutons on his iPod and kicking his feet along the ceiling until Nick's head appears from above.
"Yeah, some of us are tired, Joe."
Joe shrugs. "I can't help it if you're being all sensitive. Besides," he pulls out one of his ear buds, feeling it pulse against his neck as he props himself up on his elbows, just enough so he doesn't hit his head, "you've slept through a lot worse."
Nick's grin turns into a yawn. "Like your snoring."
"Whatever, Nicholas." Joe reaches out to swipe his hair. "I'll go back to rooming with Kev, no problem."
"Nah. Not necessary." Nick either winks or blinks all lopsided at him, Joe can't tell in the dim light of the bus. What he can tell is that Nick looks exhausted, after only one night on tour. He feels like an asshole.
"Get some sleep, I'll cut it out." Joe should probably get some sleep too, or else he'll look awful tomorrow and Kevin will never shut up about it and chase him with some tea bags to get rid of puffiness.
"'Kay." Nick pauses for a second, staring at him. "Zutons?"
"You could tell?" Joe shouldn't be surprised.
"It was the beat." Nick definitely winks this time before disappearing. Well. Maybe Joe's better at drumming than he thought. Nice.
He falls asleep still blasting the music, so when they stop it takes Nick poking his shoulder repeatedly before he opens his eyes.
"Urggh," he clears his throat, "okay, let me try that again. What is it?"
Nick stretches. "We're stopped at the border, or something."
Joe pushes aside the curtain, rolling out of the bunk and stretching, leaning on Nick. "Are we going to have to be Canadians now?"
Nick rolls his eyes. "Yep."
Joe notices his Dad moving around up near the front. "Hey Dad?"
Dad turns. "Joseph?"
"Don't tell them you forged my birth certificate." He can feel Nick's shoulders shake with laughter next to him, but he's shaking his head.
"Dude, come on." Nick's voice is low, and he elbows Joe's side.
Dad's got his nose pinched between his fingers like he does when, well, whenever Joe doesn't know to stop. He can't help it.
"Sorry Dad, I'll just wait here."
"Silently," Nick supplies.
"Basically almost silently." Joe nods.
Dad's already waving his hand, walking out the door and talking to someone outside. Joe looks out the window.
"Dude, we should go to the duty-free shop."
Nick looks over his shoulder. "That place? It looks...I don't think we want to go there."
"Yeah, but it's free of duty."
Kevin speaks up, shuffling his feet behind them, his voice a few notches deeper than normal. "We're not going to do that."
"You know, Kev, sometimes you're like Dad Jr." Joe punches him in the shoulder.
"Look at the bridge," Nick's got his face pressed up against the window, and Joe remembers how he'd do that every time it'd snow when they were little, leaving a noseprint on the glass that Mom would complain about but never wipe off. The air's on in the bus, and Joe can see Nick's breath fog across the glass, in and out.
Kevin leans over, looking outside. "Wow, all the lights."
Joe squints. "Bassador Ridge?"
Nick starts laughing. "I think it's supposed to be Ambassador Bridge, Joe."
"Well, someone should tell the lights maintainer guy that." Joe can feel the energy seeping out from his pores suddenly, feels the kind of tired where your bones might be melting into everything else. "I hope we can get some more sleep at the hotel this morning." He yawns, pushing back the hair that's always falling in his eyes.
"Why don't you try and get some sleep now? I think Dad's handling everything." Nick twists his neck, watching whatever's going on outside. Joe thinks that he looks better than he did earlier, and he feels relaxed, like he's finally uncoiled completely from the show.
"Maybe I will. Kevin," he drapes his arm over Kev's shoulders, "I'm sorry I called you Dad Jr."
"I'll let it slide this time, Joseph."
Joe grins, ducking his head and hopping into his bunk again. "I'll be in my bunk, you guys."
"Night, Joe." He can hear their voices echoing back at him as he closes his eyes, feeling surrounded by the narrow walls, feeling warm.
* * *
From there the tour goes by fast, so fast. It's awesome, because every night everything seems to go so perfect - Demi's rocking out all over the place and the fans are going crazy, all the time, everywhere they go. One night in Dallas the crowd gets so loud that they have to stop playing, just full on stop, so that things can die down a little before they continue. Mom can't get over that, especially since it's the first time she was able to fully watch the show with everything, even though Joe knows she hates the flips ever since the one time Nick fell on his head when they were younger. She even cries, just a little bit, when she talks about it afterward, and Joe rests his chin on the top of her head and hugs her while she holds Nick's hand and Kevin just shakes his head in disbelief because, yeah, this is all really happening. It really is.
In Phoenix things are extra nice since it's a little like home, and they can see Grandpa and how he's doing. The only thing is, the heat is awful and Joe's pretty sure that the reason they moved is because all of their hair explodes the minute they step outside. Jersey's much more conducive to Jonas hair. It's especially bad when they have to stand and do a meet and greet with about 400 fans, and Kevin keeps asking everyone if they know what the signs of heat stroke are and Joe can't stop watching Nick's face as he leans over whatever he's signing, looking for something that might be off. But he's fine. They're all fine, and the tour goes on.
They're doing so much that Joe's losing track of his days and cities again, getting to that hazy point on the tour. Press and Chevy stuff and conference calls and filming their concert movie (3-D, Joe can't get over how his kicks are going to just pop-out and have dimension) and performances and fans everywhere, outside of venues and their hotel, half of them wearing red dresses, which was funny at first (especially when Kev finally said, after one night where Nick said he counted at least 20 girls wearing them, "who would wear a dress like that to a concert?" and Joe started to say something before Nick gave him a look). Avril joins up with them for a few dates, which is nice except how it's not really, and Joe and Nick stay up one night until 3 AM talking about things she's said and laughing until Nick says he feels bad and they should go to bed, anyway. Joe doesn't get how he can be so good, all the time. Joe's exhausted enough trying to be good most of the time. If Nick and Kev weren't around, he's not sure what he'd do.
Things get even crazier around the time Rolling Stone comes out, fans showing up and asking them to sign the cover, giggling and refusing to make eye contact. Joe can't get over how it all turned out, and he's kind of startled every time he sees how he looks. Everyone had noticed it, when they first saw the mock-ups and Mom and Dad had agreed to it (which, he's still not entirely sure how that happened). Kev had stared for a minute and said, "Joe, you look like you're trying to have sex with everyone," which, yeah. Sometimes Joe'll see the copy that's always floating around their bus and wonder if he's trying to seduce himself, which is enough of a problem when you're on tour and you're around your brothers and everyone else all. the. time. It's frustrating, and sometimes he finds himself getting up earlier than he needs to, taking an extra long shower and taking care of things. They all do it, he knows that. They talk about it even, sometimes, Nick across the room and punch drunk, sleepily saying that sometimes he wishes they didn't spend all year on tour so he could have time to jerk off whenever he wanted. Joe'd been surprised, then, both at how Nick just said what he was thinking, and he also wondered if Nick had known, at the time, that Joe was lying there trying to will his erection away so he could sleep. If Nick could hear the unsteadiness in Joe's voice when he replied, "y-yeah, that'd be nice," running his palm over himself once before swallowing hard and closing his eyes again.
* * *
MTV's following them around when they get to New York for their Madison Square Garden shows, and it's weird and awesome. Joe doesn't mind having cameras in his face all the time; in fact, he kind of loves it sometimes, it's something to focus on other than how busy they are or how far they are from a break. He knows that Kevin feels the same way, that he loves explaining to anyone who'll listen about the stupid stuff they do, or how unbelievably blessed they are.
Nick's different, as usual. They're waiting to go somewhere, away from the cameras for a minute, and Joe can hear Nick laughing.
"What?"
Nick smiles. "I don't know, I just, I wonder how many fans are going to see some of this stuff and start like, warning people about ninjas and pirates in the street, you know?"
"Yeah," Joe starts laughing, too, elbowing Kevin. "They're just doing service to their community, right?"
Kevin nods. "Right."
Nick doesn't say anything else and they push through the screaming fans to get inside, and, well, Joe can't help but think about how Nick is so aware of shit like that, all the time. Or how sometimes he's so focused on what they're about to do that he can't repeat whatever the camera guy's asking him to say, so Joe steps in to help.
Later, they're backstage and Joe's having a Segway race with Kevin (and kicking his ass all over the place), when Joe notices them interviewing Nick in some corner, a serious look on his face. Joe cuts Kevin off and jumps down, dancing over to where Nick is, singing some song about dancing it out, making him laugh and join in. This is the stuff that people like to watch, anyway. They don't need to listen to Nick say for the millionth time that he doesn't want to talk about Miley or Selena or whatever other girl someone somewhere has pictures of him with. It just gets old and stressful, all of that girl shit. Like, Joe's been talking to Taylor for a couple of weeks now, and apparently she's coming to see them for their last show, but honestly, whatever. She's cool and all, but he just doesn't have time for that, and he'd rather get some extra sleep than talk on the phone forever. Besides, he knows from Kevin that if it mattered, he'd rather talk than sleep, so. Which is why he'd switched, actually, to rooming with Nick since Kev was on the phone with Danielle talking about who loves who more all the damn time, and while Joe's happy for him he'd also like to be able to stomach his oatmeal in the morning without a million declarations of true love, thanks.
Not that it matters right now, since they all have their own rooms for the first time in forever because Mom's cooked up some sort of deal with MTV where they'll follow her around as she wakes them up. Which she does do, sometimes, but never like this. Joe kind of likes having his own room, though, just for one night, although he misses having Nick nearby, or Kevin. He gets better sleep, anyway, so much better that he doesn't hear his phone the first few hundred times it rings. He finally unlocks his door, climbing back into bed and hoping Mom will get hung up so he can get just five more minutes. His phone rings again, though, and after seeing it's Nick he answers.
"This better be good."
Nick's voice sounds groggier than usual, and Joe can almost imagine his face, his eyes half closed. "Just wanted to warn you, Mom's on her way."
Joe burrows deeper under the covers, pressing the phone harder to his ear. "I know."
"It's a lot of cameras, just so you know."
"Great."
"I woke up with a boom mic in my face."
"Awesome." Joe can hear them in the hallway. "She's here. See you soon?"
Nick sighs. "Yeah. Good luck."
And then Mom's there, smoothing her hand across his forehead and talking to him in her soothing morning voice and, if it wasn't for the cameras and lights everywhere, all up in his face, it almost feels like home.
* * *
One of the last things MTV films is them playing Halo before the show, and Joe's in the zone. He never beats Nick so thoroughly, ever. Nick's serious concentration usually adds up to Halo dominance, but not now, with a camera in his face. Joe knows that he should probably say or do something to get the heat off of Nick, but he also wants to feel the satisfaction of victory, just this one time. It's not as fun when the only person he has Halo bragging rights over is Kevin, and even then it's not that great since Kev is like, a savant at Madden. Plus, even Frankie freaking beat him the other day and he needs some sort of redemption.
He finally wins, throwing down his control and standing, lifting his hands up in the air.
"Bow down to me, Nick, because I just owned you."
Nick frowns, tugging on his hair. "Sure, I'll bow down now that you've beat me, this one time."
"One time is all it takes." Joe crosses his arms. "I'm waiting, Nicholas."
Shooting a glance at the cameras filming something with Kevin in the corner, Nick smiles, ducking his head down, bending his knees slightly. "We good?"
"Hmmm," Joe taps his finger on his chin, "I'll accept that, even though I could tell you didn't really mean it."
"Oh, I totally meant it." Nick blinks at him, twice, a half smile on his face.
"Nice try, Nicky, but that doesn't work on me, since I'm not a girl." Joe moves quickly, grabbing him and pulling him into a headlock, messing with his hair. Nick wraps his arm around Joe's waist, pushing him onto the couch behind them, their legs tangling together.
"Ready for the show now?" Nick's voice sounds like he's slightly out of breath, his lips smushed against Joe's neck.
Joe twists away, elbowing Nick's hip as he gets up. "Oh, I'm so ready. Let's do this."
* * *
Buffalo. They've been bouncing around New York for the past few days, celebrating their album release and putting in appearances everywhere. Joe feels like he hasn't been able to breathe fully for almost a week, but more and more reviews keep coming in and it's looking like they have a decent shot at number one. They can't believe it.
He's on the stage, and they're finishing up "Pushing Me Away." Everything up until now has felt so right, so energized, so on, so Joe notices that something's off with Nick. It's small and he doesn't think even Kev or any of the guys in the band can tell, but his voice sounds...weaker. Or something. Joe's so used to singing with Nick, letting their voices blend together that he can almost feel it, along the back of his neck, when they aren't gelling. They finish the song and Kev immediately starts yelling things at the crowd, pumping his fist in the air and letting them scream. Joe gestures to Kevin, bowing while everyone applauds, and says, low into the special mics that are wired just for the three of them, "You okay, Nicky?"
Nick's voice sounds a little shaky when he answers. "Gotta go take care of something, it's fine."
Joe looks over at Nick as he backs up, leaving the stage and handing his guitar off to someone. He looks sweaty, but not good sweaty. Joe can hear his blood in his ears, a steady thumping pulse, and then Kev's there, his arm around him.
"Plan B?" Kevin's calm voice steadies Joe a bit, and he can swallow again.
Joe nods, flipping the switch in the back of his mind, pretending that he can't hear Nick through the mics still, pretending that he can't hear Mom saying in her calm voice that they'll inject it in his stomach this time, or Dad thanking Big Rob for getting some juice.
"Buff-a-loooo!" Joe yells, and the crowd goes wild in response. They set up the mics for this exact reason, but Joe really wishes that they weren't necessary, Jesus Mary and Joseph. He's on autopilot, and starts working the crowd, reading signs painted in pink glitter, accepting any offer for prom or marriage he can see. He doesn't think anyone notices that Nick's gone, and in reality he knows that he's only gone for a minute or two, but it feels like forever, feels awful.
"Back." Nick's voice is in his ear, but Joe just keeps going, because he can hear how Nick's breathing is still off by half a beat.
"What do you think, Kev? Should I marry...Ali?" The girl holding the sign screams so loud Joe can hear her over everything else, and he worries for a minute that he'll be responsible for someone near her going deaf, or for her passing out. That'll go over well.
"I think so, Joe." Kevin's laughing, looking behind Joe at Nick, and Joe can tell by the relieved look on Kevin's face that everything's going to be okay.
"How many fiancees do you have now, Joe?" Nick's laughing in Joe's ear, and Joe releases his death grip on his mic. He shakes out his hand and moves his hair out of his eyes, and his knuckles ache.
"This next one is for all the beautiful girls in the audience," Joe starts, and glances over at Nick when the crowd erupts. Nick nods at him, grinning. He looks okay again, maybe a little pale. Joe can feel the hair at the back of his neck curling in the heat, and he stands next to Nick, wrapping his arm around his skinny shoulders. Nick leans into him.
* * *
Backstage, everyone surrounds Nick, insulating him, and Joe can't get close. He stands on the edges of everything and watches as Mom puts her hand on the side of Nick's face, looking into his eyes. Joe can tell Nick's annoyed, and he smiles to himself.
Demi's next to him, her eyes wide. "Nick okay?"
Joe looks down at her, and can tell she's mentally composing her text to Selena. "He's fine. You know Nick, Dem."
She nods. "Yeah."
"Seriously, he's fine." Joe knows he's talking a little too loud, because Demi's eyes get wider and Kev gives him a weird look from where he's standing a few feet away, on the phone. He says it again, a little more quietly, "he's fine."
Demi makes a humming noise, patting his arm. He bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching the top of Nick's head, all he can see now that more people are around. They have a meet and greet to get to. Joe can keep a better eye on him then. Nick's gonna hate it.
* * * * *
They're finally done for the day, a little earlier than usual. Nick's alone in his hotel room, enjoying the silence. In the week since MTV left he and Joe have kept their separate rooms, which has been nice, kind of. Especially now, because Nick gets that Joe's worried after what happened at the show earlier, but he was hovering like Dad at the meet and greet, and Nick just wants to breathe again.
The thing is, it's not a big deal when Mom or Dad or Kev or anyone else is constantly watching him, like he's about to fall over at any moment, but with Joe...it's unsettling. Joe watches him, sure, but it's never like that, it's more like something that makes Nick feel safe, not smothered. Joe definitely switched over to smother today at the meet and greet. Still, though, Nick almost wishes Joe was there now, distracting him with some random dance or song or stupid joke.
As if on cue, someone knocks on the door, and it's Joe's special one that they came up with when they were kids, where he uses both his fists and it sounds like someone's drumming outside. Nick lets him in.
"Hey." Nick unbuttons the top of his shirt, pushes up his sleeves.
"Mom wanted me to bring you these." Joe tosses a box of testing strips at him before draping himself across the chair Nick had been sitting in, propping his feet up on the coffee table. One of the velcro strips on his shoe is loose, and Nick grabs it on his way to the table across the room, ripping it up and smoothing it down.
"Thanks, bro."
"Someone has to watch out for your appearance." Nick sits down, opening up his testing kit, lining up everything in a row in front of him. "Mom wanted me to check again, right?"
"Yeah, and I'm supposed to call her if anything's weird." Joe's back to normal, grinning and watching him like it's just something he does, even if Nick didn't have diabetes. Like he did before, when he noticed everything that was going on, or when they were young and Joe automatically shielded him when the truck hit their car. Some people are lucky to have their life saved once, but Joe's saved his twice.
"I feel good now, but it's fine, it's better to do this now when I have a minute." Nick opens the box, pulls out a couple of strips and fits one in the monitor. He reaches for the bottle of test fluid.
"Coding the instruments?" Joe's voice sounds rough, like he's drifting away.
"As usual." Nick carefully puts a drop on the strip, making sure not to get the bright red liquid on his fingers.
"It's so gross that they make the fake blood red." Joe makes a face, his dark eyebrows knitting together.
"They're going for realism, I guess." His monitor beeps, and he checks it to make sure it's within range, that the strips are accurate. "Besides, I think that it's red for a reason."
"Whatever, still gross." Joe yawns. "'Member when you were starting a new box on the Avril tour, and ended up spilling that shit all over my shirt?"
"I remember how pissed you were, yes." Nick gets his lancet loaded, puts a new strip into the monitor.
"Well, you ruined my favorite shirt."
Nick looks up at him. "You were wearing Kevin's shirt, Joe."
"Like I said, you ruined Kevin's favorite shirt. You know," he sits up a little, his fingers playing with the end of his scarf, "it's not fair that your disease comes with cool high tech accessories."
Nick laughs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, it really has its perks."
"Seriously," Joe grins. "I mean, when I get a cold, I just get snot."
"Gross," Nick says, under his breath. Joe always does this when Nick's testing himself, talking and joking. It helps. Even though it's been long enough that most everything is part of his life now, not a big deal, it's nice to have the distraction. He sets the lancet, hearing the click as it pierces his finger. Squeezing down, a drop that he knows isn't big enough to register appears.
"Shit," he says, reloading the lancet and adjusting the depth. He rubs his finger, trying to warm it with the friction.
"Fingers too cold?" Joe's voice comes from across the room, and when Nick looks up he's staring at him again, his eyes only halfway open.
"Yeah," Nick sighs. "I think it's just that the air's on too high in here, or something."
"Need me to come blow on your finger? I'm hot stuff, after all." He raises his eyebrows and Nick laughs, remembering the girl who called him that today at the meet and greet.
"Nah, I got it." Nick gets enough blood this time, and cleans up while he waits for the beep. "104."
"Good." Joe has his eyes closed. "I don't have to call Mom, then."
Nick watches Joe's chest rise and fall in a slow tempo. "Why don't you go to your room? Get some sleep, 'cause we're starting all this again tomorrow."
"Oh," Joe murmurs, and Nick walks closer to him so he can hear, "I'm staying here tonight."
"Uh, what?" Nick's kind of glad, actually. Really happy. But. "That's not necessary. I thought that you liked it better having your own room."
"I lied." Joe's eyes are open now. "Besides, it's either me staying with you, or Mom. It's your choice, Nicholas."
"Yeah, I choose you. But," Nick backs up closer to the bedroom, getting a head start, "I get first dibs on the bed by the window."
* * *
Wyckoff is about an hour away from Holmdel, where they're set to play tonight at the Arts Center, but Mom really wants to see the old house to make sure the lilacs in the front are still there and that whoever's living in the house now is keeping up with the lawn.
It's not something you think about often when you're on the road, at least Nick doesn't, but the closer they get to home the more it sinks in that this isn't home anymore. They don't take the tour bus through the old town because it would stir up way too much attention and Mom and Dad want to keep their visit low-key. It's bad enough that anyone who's following the tour knows they're there anyway.
Nick stares out the window of the Tahoe at the gray humidity and the slow late-summer drizzle of New Jersey, and he remembers a lot of things. He hadn't been born here like Kevin was, but it never felt like he wasn't. He remembers pulling into the driveway at four o'clock in the morning after being in the city all night in a show, riding bikes down their block and summers of spending eight hours in the pool and camping out back. There were big dinners with friends after church on Sundays and snowball fights in the front yard on snow days. Joe always cheated and Kevin would cry when his socks got wet.
They pass by the library and Joe kind of sighs from where he's sitting in the seat behind Nick.
"Back in the dirty Jerz," Joe says. "It's so weird, being here right now."
Nick doesn't answer, but he silently agrees. It is weird. He thought he'd be a little sadder than he actually is, but maybe it's okay that he's not. It's not like they can come back for good.
Joe keeps talking and it's as if he's directing what he says to Nick only. Nick can see out of the corner of his eye that Joe's moved all close to Nick's seat in front of him and he has his head against the glass so that his voice sort of travels through the space between Nick's seat and the window.
"Maybe we should write a song about it," Joe says distractedly. "It can be about how the weather here is gross and depressing and it smells like factory."
When they drive past their old house (slowly, in the off chance someone recognizes the truck), Nick kind of feels lonely. Even though he's in a car with his entire family, Mom in the front and Frankie bouncing around in the backseat, he feels like he misses something but he's not sure what.
"Dude, this is all making me really want to do our show tonight," Joe says. "Like, I'm excited for it a lot right now." It's a totally random thing to say, but weirdly enough, it's exactly how Nick feels too. It's kind of like the shows and the tour and the crowds are what they go home to every night, instead of this tiny house with its white picket fence in the suburbs.
"Yeah." Nick leans against his window, and the leather creaks behind him as Joe sits back. "It's gonna be so awesome."
* * *
Maybe it's because of visiting their old house earlier, or because the show went so well that it's still coursing through his veins, but Nick can't sleep. He's tried everything, tried writing songs in his head, tried to name the last ten cities they've been in in correct order, tried listening to Joe breathing in the next bed, the comforting sound of his dull snore. It's dark, and Nick can just make out his brother's sleeping form. Joe turns over, and Nick clears his throat.
"Hey, Joe?"
There's a beat of silence before Nick can hear Joe exhale, slowly. "Yeah?"
"You up?"
Joe groans. "If I answered you, then yeah, I'm up."
"Sorry, I was just..." Nick trails off, turning over his pillow and pressing his cheek into the cool material.
"Can't sleep?" Joe lets the question hang in the air between them, and Nick doesn't answer. "I know. Sometimes, when we're so out there, all the time, it's hard to come down, right?"
Nick nods, and he can hear the rustle of Joe getting up and then feels the mattress dip and shift with his weight.
"Move over," Joe puts his warm hand on Nick's shoulder, "because I can't hear you nodding from across the room."
"Right." Nick smiles involuntarily, curling on his side while Joe settles on his back next to him.
Joe stares at the ceiling. "Today was weird."
"Yeah." Nick doesn't know what else to say, knows that Joe's just starting up.
"It's like...I don't know, it's like today I realized that this is it, you know?" He doesn't look over at Nick, keeps his eyes on the ceiling. Patches of moonlight from the partially uncovered window leave patterns on his face, lines across his nose, sloping down over his cheek.
"It's our life now." Nick wishes he could explain it better, but Joe's nodding and Nick remembers who he's talking to.
"It's a pretty awesome life. Dude, remember when we'd joke about girls screaming all the time and getting like, thousands of people at our shows and just...being rockstars?"
"Sometimes I wonder if we deserve it all." Nick holds his breath, waiting for Joe to answer, because, yes, he does wonder that. Why them? They're just three brothers who love to make music.
Joe doesn't move his head, and for whatever reason that makes everything closer, louder. "You deserve it." His voice cracks, and Nick can't remember the last time that's happened.
"You too." And he does. Nick wishes he could tell Joe how everything's better with him and Kev around, especially Joe. How he's glad that the producer a million years ago said Nick going solo wouldn't work as well as a band of brothers, considering how good Joe and Nick sounded when they sang together.
"Nah, I'm just along for the ride. And the free stuff. And line hopping." Joe's arm is between them, radiating heat. Nick leans closer, his knee bumping Joe's leg.
"Yeah, I know how much you always hated having to wait in line at Disney."
Joe laughs. "Well, not all of us have the patience to wait two hours to ride It's A Small World, which is the lamest fucking thing ever."
"Well, I was six, what do you want?"
"I want a cooler brother."
"Kev's down the hall, go right ahead."
Joe snorts. "Yeah, no thanks. I've already seen the Kevin and Danielle are in love show, and I don't like repeats."
"He's really happy." And the thing is, he is. Kev's naturally a happy person, but...this is different. Sometimes Nick wishes he had someone like that to keep him grounded when everything else is so hectic. Everything he's ever had with girls, Miley and Selena and everyone else, was constant stress on top of it all. Or, as Joe calls it, "the dramz."
"You happy, Nicky?" Joe's getting sleepy again, Nick can tell. And actually, Nick's feeling more relaxed than he's been in weeks, comfortable and happy.
"Yeah," Nick says, and he is. "You?"
"Always." Joe reaches out his hand, ruffling Nick's hair. "We're doing good, right?"
"We are."
"Feeling okay?" Joe says it automatically, and Nick feels something warm pool in his chest, flooding everywhere, down his arms and legs.
"I feel good. Tired."
Joe smiles, and in the dim light Nick can see his eyes are closing. "Finally."
"Night, Joe."
"Night." Joe's arm relaxes even more next to him.
"Love you." Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, like he's moving underwater, and Nick kisses Joe. He's so tired, tired and warm and happy, and he catches Joe's bottom lip between his own, smooth and hot.
Nick pulls back, his face still hovering over Joe's, so close that when Joe opens his eyes Nick can feel his eyelashes against his cheek.
"Oh," Joe says, and a cloud passes over the window. Nick can't see Joe's eyes, only knows that they're dark and a little unfocused since he's not wearing his glasses. Nick feels like he's paralyzed.
"Oh." Nick licks his lips and pauses before kissing Joe again, this time full on the lips. Joe turns his head, kissing him back slowly, lazily. His mouth opens under Nick's, his tongue sweeping across Nick's bottom lip. Nick can't breathe, tries to remember what the hell he usually does with his hands. He settles on resting one on Joe's shoulder, which feels like it's burning under his palm, his other tangling in Joe's hair, the waves threading through his fingers.
Joe pulls back, breathing like he does sometimes when they share a room and he thinks Nick's asleep in the middle of the night. Nick kisses him one more time, and Joe's lips are soft.
The room is quiet, and Nick can feel his heart pounding, but he feels calm, safe. Like kissing Joe is just something he does. It's weird, he knows, but a part of him wishes that he had done it sooner. Like it's just an extension of everything else. But then he looks a Joe, whose eyes are still open, and he's terrified again, overwhelmed.
"Get some sleep." When he finally talks, Joe's voice is low and uneven, and Nick wonders.
* * *
Part Two.