Filling a prompt should not be this complicated
Fandom: Jonas Brothers
Pairing: very mild Nick/Joe, or gen
Filling this prompt: "Nick is too much of a douche to actually want to TAKE CARE of Joe, but sometimes he does nice things just to make Joe stop whining. And okay, maybe it's not so bad that Joe's favourite feel-better thing is cuddling. And maybe Nick doesn't exactly MIND that Joe loses his voice."
Author's note: I was poking around in boyfriends_fic and found this prompt. Idiot that I am, I wrote an answer to it before I realized that I wasn't even a member, so I couldn't post it. I sent a membership request - and then looked through the comm info, where they clearly say that they won't approve new or empty journals. So I'm not holding my breath for the ability to post it there.
Joe had transformed into an amorphous blob of miserable thin coughs, used tissues, and messy blankets on the couch. The TV remote had been lost in its depths two days ago.
Nick sat at the kitchen table, working through his math homework and jotting down notes on a new song. The melody was coming fine, but the words were just... it was hard to think in words when Joe kept rasping at him.
"Niiiick," Joe called. "Baby bruuuuder..."
"Joe, oh my gosh," Nick said finally, dropping his pencil and probably failing calculus forever. He rubbed his temple and said, "I am thinking about things, Joe, could you just shut up?"
"Bud I need anudder bots of dissues," Joe pouted. There was a mountain of completely disgusting tissues at his feet. "Nigolas, yer the werst nerse eber."
Nick pointed. "Kevin is right there making a smoothie."
Kevin looked up from his careful examination of their refrigerator. "It's called a masterpiece, dude."
"Kebin's busy," Joe whined.
"I'm not dizzy," Kevin protested.
Nick slapped on his aggressively passive smile. "Kevin, would you please get Joe some more tissues."
"Sure," Kevin agreed happily. He opened up one of the kitchen cabinets and presented: a solid wall of tissue boxes. "No problem!"
When Joe had his stupid tissues, he was quiet long enough for Nick to move on to his history homework. Then he started up again: "Niiiiiick."
"Joe, come on."
"No! Cobe here."
"Why."
When Nick gave Joe a stern glare, Joe opened his blankets in a clear invitation.
Nick said, "I can't afford to lose my voice, Joe, and I definitely can't get sick. Can you imagine me rendered completely invalid?"
Kevin said, "You would reach truly legendary levels of petulance," as he added the final touches to his masterpiece in the blender.
Nick and Joe both stared at him.
"I've been reading the dictionary," he explained cheerfully. "Fire in the hole!" He started the blender.
Nick looked at Joe and thought cuddling is completely out of the question very loudly, since he couldn't shout over the noise.
Joe made puppy eyes and beckoned him in.
Nick crossed his arms, determined to resist him.
(He lasted another thirty-eight seconds. Kevin was in the habit of timing these things.)
"If I get sick, you are so dead," Nick warned, wrapped up with his brother and making demanding motions for the remote.
"I'b feelin much bedder," Joe promised, and pulled him closer.
Pairing: very mild Nick/Joe, or gen
Filling this prompt: "Nick is too much of a douche to actually want to TAKE CARE of Joe, but sometimes he does nice things just to make Joe stop whining. And okay, maybe it's not so bad that Joe's favourite feel-better thing is cuddling. And maybe Nick doesn't exactly MIND that Joe loses his voice."
Author's note: I was poking around in boyfriends_fic and found this prompt. Idiot that I am, I wrote an answer to it before I realized that I wasn't even a member, so I couldn't post it. I sent a membership request - and then looked through the comm info, where they clearly say that they won't approve new or empty journals. So I'm not holding my breath for the ability to post it there.
Joe had transformed into an amorphous blob of miserable thin coughs, used tissues, and messy blankets on the couch. The TV remote had been lost in its depths two days ago.
Nick sat at the kitchen table, working through his math homework and jotting down notes on a new song. The melody was coming fine, but the words were just... it was hard to think in words when Joe kept rasping at him.
"Niiiick," Joe called. "Baby bruuuuder..."
"Joe, oh my gosh," Nick said finally, dropping his pencil and probably failing calculus forever. He rubbed his temple and said, "I am thinking about things, Joe, could you just shut up?"
"Bud I need anudder bots of dissues," Joe pouted. There was a mountain of completely disgusting tissues at his feet. "Nigolas, yer the werst nerse eber."
Nick pointed. "Kevin is right there making a smoothie."
Kevin looked up from his careful examination of their refrigerator. "It's called a masterpiece, dude."
"Kebin's busy," Joe whined.
"I'm not dizzy," Kevin protested.
Nick slapped on his aggressively passive smile. "Kevin, would you please get Joe some more tissues."
"Sure," Kevin agreed happily. He opened up one of the kitchen cabinets and presented: a solid wall of tissue boxes. "No problem!"
When Joe had his stupid tissues, he was quiet long enough for Nick to move on to his history homework. Then he started up again: "Niiiiiick."
"Joe, come on."
"No! Cobe here."
"Why."
When Nick gave Joe a stern glare, Joe opened his blankets in a clear invitation.
Nick said, "I can't afford to lose my voice, Joe, and I definitely can't get sick. Can you imagine me rendered completely invalid?"
Kevin said, "You would reach truly legendary levels of petulance," as he added the final touches to his masterpiece in the blender.
Nick and Joe both stared at him.
"I've been reading the dictionary," he explained cheerfully. "Fire in the hole!" He started the blender.
Nick looked at Joe and thought cuddling is completely out of the question very loudly, since he couldn't shout over the noise.
Joe made puppy eyes and beckoned him in.
Nick crossed his arms, determined to resist him.
(He lasted another thirty-eight seconds. Kevin was in the habit of timing these things.)
"If I get sick, you are so dead," Nick warned, wrapped up with his brother and making demanding motions for the remote.
"I'b feelin much bedder," Joe promised, and pulled him closer.