Happy Holidays, lakeeffectgirl! [PART ONE]
Author: 2oclockcheckout
Recipient: lakeeffectgirl
Title: Wear the crown in another world
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 18,000
Warnings: D/s themes
Disclaimer: Never happened.
A/N: Many thanks to novaberry for the beta. Title from Saint Etienne.
Summary: It wasn’t about Nick giving in, it was about what he was allowing Joe to have.
The request: Nick in control.
It was still pretty early in the night when Nick got the call.
He didn’t say anything when he first picked up, too put off by the racket in the background, some song he didn’t recognize because Lisa and Jess were deliberately massacring the vocals. He could barely hear Joe breathing into the mouthpiece over that.
Nick could tell Joe had been drinking as soon as he spoke.
“Nick! I can hear you’re there. Nick J. Nicholas Jerry-”
“Turn the music down.”
After a pause, all the background noise was gone.
“Can you hear me now?” Joe’s voice was all muffled, mouth too close to the phone.
“Yeah, Joe.” He tried to keep his tone level, smoothed out. “What’s up?”
Joe’s voice was normal again when he said, “Mom asked me to try making it home tonight.”
They had a full day tomorrow. Nick didn’t know why Joe had bothered going out at all when he’d already spent the night before with the girls. “This is you trying?”
“Nick,” Joe said, drawling it out, half exasperated, half repentant. “Guilt-tripping won’t make me any less...” He paused. “Tipsy.”
“But it might help you learn.”
“You should be helping me decide what to do. Should I stay or should I go?”
In the background, Jess and Lisa started singing The Clash.
Nick rolled his eyes.
He didn’t understand why Joe had to waste the few nights they had at home this way. Nick knew what Lisa and Jess got up to in their spare time. He couldn’t really pass judgment on that because they were their own people, nearly twenty-six. But at the same time, their age was part of the problem. He just honestly didn’t know what they wanted with Joe.
Nick made the decision to go get him.
--
He felt like the disapproving little brother buzzkill as he stood in the middle of Jess and Lisa’s hotel room, waiting for Joe to get his boots on.
Jess tried to make small talk. Nick tried to be receptive. He was always friendly to both girls, but he didn’t really click with them. Not the way Joe did.
Joe was taking forever to get his jacket on, kept missing the sleeves, so Nick went over and took it from him, helped him into it.
Joe turned then and smiled at him, his hair all mussed up. There was some color smudged on his mouth-the same shade Lisa was wearing on her own lips.
“Hold on,” Nick said, swiping at Joe’s soft bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, smearing the red tint away. It came off easily, glossy and cloying, giving way the flushed pink of Joe’s mouth underneath. Joe was quiet, breathing hot against Nick’s skin.
When Nick pulled away, Joe licked his lips, looking at Nick’s mouth like he did sometimes.
“Let’s go,” he said, and Joe nodded.
The good-byes went on longer than Nick thought necessary, Joe promising the girls he’d try to see them one more time while they were all still in L.A. and hugging for too long.
Nick had known there wouldn’t be many cameras outside, if at all. He clamped a hand on Joe’s shoulder and tried to hustle him past the couple of guys who were there, hurry him from the hotel’s front door to the SUV. Joe kept his head down, ducking out of the way of the flashes and pretending not to hear the questions being called out to him.
In the car, Joe kept saying, “Sorry,” to Nick and to the driver.
They were dropped off at the house and Nick managed to get Joe into his room before they could be intercepted by their parents.
Joe sat down on the bed without being told and Nick went to knees to unlace Joe’s boots and drag them off, all while Joe petted at his curls. When he got back to his feet, Joe stood too.
“Are you mad at me?” Joe asked, looping his arms around Nick’s waist, hugging himself to Nick’s front. “I hate when you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not,” Nick said. His hands hovered briefly and then settled on Joe’s sides. He could smell alcohol and perfume clinging to Joe’s shirt, his hair.
Joe’s chest was starting to rise and fall a little faster against his.
“Good,” Joe murmured, “that’s good,” and then he turned his head, his lips skimming against the sensitive skin of Nick’s throat.
The feeling Joe’s five o’clock shadow and the damp heat of his slack mouth made Nick take in a sharp breath.
“Joe,” he said quietly.
Joe’s hands started roaming, pushing Nick’s shirt up in back and skimming fingertips down the curve of his spine.
The only light in the room was coming from the hallway, door ajar, and the fact that anyone could walk by should have made Nick push away and put Joe to bed. If the overhead light had been on, he probably would have, but the darkness made it easier for him to stand there and let it happen.
“I’m not just doing this because I’m drunk,” Joe told him, voice just above a whisper.
“Joe,” Nick said again, more firmly this time, his hands tightening on Joe’s sides.
Joe’s mouth opened against Nick’s pulse point, teeth dragging across the skin when he pulled away just far enough to mutter, “We should-”
He tried to get closer and Nick staggered, keeping them both upright. Joe didn’t seem to notice.
“You know what I’m talking about, I know you do,” Joe said. He yanked at Nick’s shirt collar, baring skin. He put his mouth there, wet, threatening to bite.
Nick forgot to breathe for a second, feeling caught out, like he was the one who’d done something wrong. He was having trouble keeping up with Joe’s words, Joe’s hands.
Joe pressed their hips together and Nick could feel that they were both reacting to this.
Joe whimpered, “God, we should,” and that was enough to spur Nick into action, make him put space between them.
Joe grunted when Nick pushed him down on the bed, forcing him to lie down.
“C’mon,” Joe groused, but he rolled over onto his stomach anyway, burying his face against the pillow.
By the time Nick went for a glass of water and put it at Joe’s bedside, Joe was asleep.
--
Nick was hunched over his laptop, trying to concentrate, keep what happened the night before off his mind.
Joe came over and dropped himself next to Nick on the couch. When Nick didn’t say anything or look up, Joe ducked into his line of sight, made Nick keep his eyes on Joe’s as they both sat up straight.
Joe was grinning as he said, “Hi.”
Nick felt his lips quirk into a smile.
Joe had been weird all day-trying too hard to be normal, roughhousing with Frankie and getting everyone’s attention with stupid tricks, alternating between bickering with Kevin and trying to hug him afterward.
Nick had been watching him the whole time, last night replaying in his head like a loop, compulsive.
Joe was quiet towards him most of the day, but they hadn’t really had any time alone, so there hadn’t been an opportunity to discuss that, if they were going to. Nick had planned to leave that up to Joe.
Now that they were by themselves, Nick wasn’t sure he would be okay with talking about it after all.
After about ten minutes of Joe silently looking over Nick’s shoulder, he sighed against Nick’s ear and said, “Why do they say, ‘Eat your heart out’? What does that even mean?”
Nick shifted away so he could look at Joe. “What?”
“You know, that saying. I know what it means, but where did it come from?”
Nick gestured to the computer, offering up the internet, but Joe just shrugged like it wasn’t worth the effort to look it up. Nick went back to reading.
“Because I’m pretty sure you can’t eat your own heart out,” Joe said a few moments later. “You know?”
When Nick looked up again, Joe tried biting at his own chest. He looked really stupid and Nick couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking his head, and Joe leaned back, pleased. But then his expression settled into something more neutral and he said, “Sorry about last night.”
Nick knew he wasn’t talking about the drinking.
Joe didn’t seem all that remorseful though. The look on his face was more appraising than anything else, like he was trying to read Nick’s expression, gauge.
Nick realized then that Joe was trying to give them an easy way out of this. Nick could shrug it off and say, “Yeah, I can’t believe you let yourself get like that,” and they would pretend it never happened, blame it on the inebriation. Maybe that was the whole reason Joe had gotten halfway to trashed in the first place.
Nick could end this now, clean and simple. The possibility was right there.
He swallowed hard and said, “We both know you weren’t that drunk,” not even sure why he was saying it.
Joe nodded shortly, a little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, this hopeful look on his face. Nick had to turn away when his heart started thudding anxious in his chest.
--
The next few days were weird.
Their mom wanted to hang out because they were to set to go on tour again soon and, even though she was going with them, they never got to hang out much as a family when they were traveling. Nick was fine with that because he didn’t get to spend enough time with her or Frankie as it was. Joe and Kevin seemed to have the same idea. They all watched movies together or went shopping or helped her around the house.
It was so familiar and domestic that it made Nick feel strange, guilty, imagining how upset his parents would be if they found out about things that hadn’t even happened yet, wondering if they would try to blame Joe for it because he was older.
A couple of those nights, Joe came up from the side and hugged Nick roughly and asked if he wanted to stay in Joe’s room. Nick would shake his head, chest expanding with his breaths under the band of Joe’s arm, and he’d say he wanted to sleep in his own bed while he still had the chance.
Joe would hum some noncommittal sound and wander away.
--
The day before they left, Joe cornered Nick in his room.
“Are you gonna be this awkward when we’re on tour? It’s like you’re going through puberty all over again.”
“It’ll be fine,” Nick said, wanting to add that he was always more professional than Joe, but he didn’t really feel like getting into it right then.
Joe put his hands on Nick’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles. “Yeah, you’ll be good,” Joe agreed.
Nick’s eyes went closed, turning his head away from where Joe was standing right in front of him, looking into Nick’s face. He tried to shrug Joe off, but Joe just sighed, invaded Nick’s space even more.
“You’re being so weird about this,” Joe said, like he was amused. “It doesn’t have to be weird.”
Nick laughed, humorless and abrupt, and looked up at him.
“It is weird, and it’s-bad. This is pretty bad, just thinking about it.”
Joe said, “It could be good,” quietly insistent. His eyes dropped to Nick’s mouth. “If you would just…”
Joe’s hand curled around the back of Nick’s head, dragging Nick forward as he leaned in and pressed their mouths together. It was forceful and brief, almost violent, more of an assertion than a kiss, like they had to get that out of the way before they could do anything else.
Joe tore away and heaved a breath, looking at Nick, heated. Nick touched his fingers to his own mouth, saw Joe track the movement.
They were both startled away from each other when a loud, two-beat knock came at the door. That was always the cursory warning Frankie gave before he sauntered right in.
He had a Wii controller dangling from his hand. He stopped short when he saw both of them just standing there uneasily next to the wall.
“What’s going on?” he asked, suspicious.
“We were talking about how nosy you are,” Joe said.
“Nuh uh,” replied Frankie, rolling his eyes. Then, “Were you really?”
Joe said yes, teasing and entirely nonchalant, but Nick barely paid them attention, mouth feeling weird on his face, ears buzzing with the unpleasant adrenaline rush of almost getting themselves caught.
--
In the first city of the tour, they were standing in the hotel lobby getting ready to go up and Dad was on the phone with whoever made all their advance reservations. He held the phone away for a second and asked Nick if he and Joe wanted to keep rooming together during the later tour dates.
Nick looked over to where Joe was talking to one of the unimpressed bellhops, trying to get him to crack a smile, and said yes.
--
When he really considered it, he knew there was all this want in him, vague but overwhelming. If he tried to think about it any further than that, he always hit a weird mental block before all that need could twist itself into something more explicit. He could feel it was there once he realized, though, urge lingering beneath the surface, all these nameless things he wanted to do to Joe.
It got him flustered if he thought about it too much, unsettled, wondering how yet another anomaly had happened to him. So he tried not to think about it at all, even though he knew Joe was waiting for something to happen. Day to day, around other people, it was pretty much business as usual between them. But sometimes he could practically feel Joe’s anticipation.
--
It wasn’t until the third stop of the tour that they were idle enough for something to happen.
Nick was sitting at the end of an overstuffed loveseat in their hotel, notebook in his lap, trying to write. They should have been getting some rest because they had a show tomorrow, but the jet lag was throwing them off, messing up their sleep schedules.
Joe was watching the tail end of a movie. The credits hadn’t even rolled before he came over, sat down facing Nick, his leg folded under him, almost hovering over Nick.
He took Nick’s notebook and tossed it onto the end table.
Nick shifted into the corner of the loveseat, rubbing his palms on his thighs, denim thin and soft. He could already see where this would be going if he didn’t get up now, but he couldn’t work up any momentum.
“I was writing.”
“We’re supposed to be sleeping,” Joe reminded him.
Nick wet his lips, dry from pulling in quick little breaths through his mouth. “So go to sleep.”
“I wanna do something first, bossy.”
“Joe,” Nick said warningly, heartbeat picking up already.
“It’s okay,” Joe soothed.
Nick closed his eyes. He could feel Joe getting closer, both of them breathing hard and they hadn’t even done anything yet.
Joe kissed him, just a press of their lips, but it wasn’t brutal and quick like last time. This was drawn out, easy for how impossible it seemed, and it made Nick’s mouth feel too sensitized, tinged with heat.
They broke apart. Nick kept his eyes closed.
Joe leaned in again, lips barely brushing against Nick’s, their bodies held tense and mouths pliant, parted against one another. They were suspended like that for a moment and then Joe fit them closer together, his tongue slipping into Nick’s mouth warm and wet and slow. Nick let it happen, let himself register the hot shock of sensation, Joe’s tongue pushing against his, tentative. The kiss was soft, but the feeling of it hit Nick harsh and sudden, going feverish under his clothes, arousal flooding through him too readily. He roughed Joe away, pulled them apart.
Joe just looked at him, lips red, and he tried to get at Nick’s mouth again, but Nick held him off. Joe groaned, leaning all his weight against the back of the couch, burying his face against his arm. “Nick,” he said, more frustration packed into that one syllable than Nick had ever heard from Joe.
Nick could see it, Joe’s jeans tented out in front.
Joe got up and went to the bathroom and Nick sat there until his breathing evened out, trying not to think about what Joe was doing right then.
--
During the show the next evening, right in the middle of a song, Joe came over and threw his arm across Nick’s shoulder, casual, like it belonged there. Nick looked up, saw Joe’s mouth all close and his eyes narrowed, intense.
He knew Joe hadn’t been trying to get to him, just being how he always was, but it still made Nick falter, almost miss a chord. Nick got kind of angry at himself for being thrown off by such a simple little thing.
Later that night, they got into their separate beds.
Nick tried to force himself to relax, let the night soak in. Despite that one moment, it had been a great show, a great audience too, but all he could think about was what had happened the day before.
“Joe,” he said into the darkness, and there was a long silence after that where words should have been.
He felt tense and irrational for it, like he was anticipating something he’d had years to ready himself for, worried for no good reason.
He finally settled on, “Goodnight.”
“’Night,” Joe said, content. “Love you.”
Nick let out a breath and said, “I love you, too,” because he knew that he did even though he wasn’t sure what exactly it meant with them anymore.
--
For a while after that, Joe got a little more aggressive. Not in his tactics so much, just in general. He was rough with Nick, wrestled with him all the time-hugging him one second and digging his fingers the next, shoving Nick so that he went unsteady on his feet.
Even though it wasn’t anything new to them, Nick thought Joe would try something nearly every time, but they’d just end up staring at each other before pushing away.
Nick finally hit his threshold one day when Joe sneak-attacked him, tackled him onto the bed. They started grappling, breaking into a sweat with the exertion. Nick went half-hard in his jeans from the physicality of it, energy working him up. It happened to both of them on occasion and usually wasn’t a big deal, but this time Nick felt something like anger, hot and violent, making his teeth grit. He wasn’t angry though. He was just really close to frustrated.
He got Joe underneath him, pinned him hard and bore down on him, looking into his face. Nick's knee came up between Joe’s legs, thigh pressed right up against Joe’s dick.
“Oh,” Joe said quietly, blushing high across his cheeks, eyes going half-lidded.
Nick fisted his hands in the fabric of Joe’s shirt. His pulse picked up, knowing they both liked it this way. They were always doing this-Joe provoking Nick, wearing away at his cool detachment until Nick went all in and turned it around on him. Joe always gave up so willingly once he had Nick’s full attention. It was such a weird feeling, the realization that this stupid game they play might go deeper.
This kept happening to Nick lately. It was like a light had been shed on everything he and Joe did together, all their little interactions, the way they worked together. None of it seemed as simple as it used to be.
Nick still didn’t think he could do it. He couldn’t change them like this.
He saw Joe’s eyes go unfocused, dark. It made his dick swell even harder, knowing he could do this to Joe.
Joe’s hips started rolling, seeking friction, and Nick said, “Stop-stop making me want to.”
“You already want to,” Joe said. “I don’t have to make you.”
Nick frowned. He hated being indecisive about anything and it probably wasn’t fair of him to keep wavering, going back and forth-it was maybe messing with Joe’s head the way it was definitely messing with his own, but he deserved some slack here. Joe made it sound so easy when it wasn’t.
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Joe asked softly, something almost like sympathy in his voice. “You can have-”
He couldn’t have Joe laying it out like that, making it all seem horribly uncomplicated. He let go and shifted off of Joe, onto his back on the bed. When he realized his dick was tenting out the front of his jeans, he rolled onto his stomach.
Joe sat up a little next to him, hand smoothing down Nick’s back.
“It’ll be good,” Joe murmured. “You know it will.”
His hand slid further down, grasped at Nick’s hip and pressed down, making Nick’s hard-on grind against the mattress, head of his dick sensitive against the cotton of his briefs. Joe did it again and the pressure was good, made Nick groan and push Joe away.
Nick was the one to lock himself in the bathroom this time.
--
Nick felt like things should have been fundamentally different between them with all this new baggage, weird and painfully awkward and uncomfortable. But they weren’t, especially now that they were just getting back into the rhythm of touring again.
Joe was the same as always-replying to things with, “That’s what she said,” at moments that rendered the entire conversation nonsensical, lightly mocking paparazzi from the safety of their SUV, doing really inaccurate impressions of the eleven o’clock newscasters in whichever city they were in at the moment.
The only time Nick ever felt uneasy around Joe was when he said something incredibly ill-advised during an interview, and even then, Nick got over it pretty quickly. He lived his life having to monitor everything he said and Joe was the only person Nick could really talk to without feeling judged, or having it reported to Mom and Dad, like Kevin was known to do. And Nick was okay with that. He was sure he’d still feel most comfortable with Joe even if he had a thousand other people to confide in.
There was tension between them now, definitely, threatening to grow and break, but he tried to ignore it-had to, with the way their lives were. He didn’t have the mental energy to worry full-time about this new thing between them, not when they had to work together to keep their routine running smoothly, making each other laugh at stupid little things, helping one another stay sane.
So it was still pretty much the same for Nick when they were out in the real world, having Joe tucked against him in front of a wall of cameras and flashing lights or sharing the cultural whiplash of jumping from one country to another. And there was still that elation he got from the rush of being on stage with his brothers. That never changed.
It was just when things were momentarily quiet, when he and Joe were alone or when Nick had a second or two to think that it all came to the surface again.
He started thinking about Joe when he jerked off.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about Joe in that context before. When he was younger and Joe started telling him about making out or getting under a girl’s shirt for the first time, Nick would think about that, picture Joe with them.
Usually it was a quick rub-out, letting himself have just enough sensation to get off so he could settle down and get to sleep, but he was getting to the age where he could wait a couple of days if he wanted to, let it all build up. He liked seeing it, how much of a load he shot after going without for a day or two, evidence of how well he could hold off. It was always worth it and he came harder like that than when he did it everyday.
Joe was messing all of that up though. Nick couldn’t hold back as well anymore, a lot of his downtime spent thinking about what was happening with them. He was a little annoyed with himself for being unable to keep his mind off it. It got him all pent up, building until he had to do something about it so he could actually think and concentrate on other things. He felt weird afterward, like he should have more willpower, but he figured that getting it over and done with was better than dwelling on it.
He was trying to get it out of the way one morning even though they had to leave soon. Joe was downstairs in the hotel lobby, so Nick sprawled out on Joe’s unmade bed, pushed his shirt high up around his chest so he wouldn't mess up his clothes.
He unbuttoned his jeans and touched himself through his briefs, started to fill out as soon as he got a hand on himself. Nick rubbed at his dick through the cotton, feeling it get bigger, groaning as he hardened up. He tugged the waistband down, held it out of the way with his tucked thumb and wrapped his other hand around his cock, stroking, eyes gone closed.
He had all these half-formed ideas that had never really fleshed themselves out because he always came too fast. He still thought about Joe with girls, thought about telling Joe what he was allowed to do to them. He thought about letting Joe see him like this, but not letting him touch, knowing how much Joe wanted-
Nick went at it quick, hurrying towards the finish, gave himself so much sensation that it made all his muscles tense up, made him come all over his bare stomach.
Recovering, he breathed out hard, already feeling different, less wound up. He cleaned up and tried to pull himself together so he could go downstairs. Looking in the mirror didn't help. There was an obvious flush to his cheeks that just made him blush harder when he saw it.
He was closing the room door just as Joe walked up.
Joe took one look at him and drew closer. He brought his hands up to cup Nick's face, palms cool against hot skin.
"Man, you’re all flushed. What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly all concern. "Are you okay?"
One of Joe’s hands slid back, fingertips kneading lightly at Nick’s curls sticking damp to the nape of his neck.
Nick tried to step back, looking away. He wasn't used to having Joe in his space, touching him so soon after.
"I'm fine," he said firmly.
And then Joe got it, realization flashing across his features. “Oh,” he said, smiling lewd and swaying closer, breathing in like he was trying to smell Nick.
“We should go,” Nick said.
“Yeah, we should,” Joe agreed. “If you’re all done now.”
He tousled a lingering hand through Nick’s humid-tight curls, a move meant to rile a little brother, not some tender display of affection and intent.
It was getting harder for Nick to tell the difference with Joe these days.
--
Times like that, Nick could feel really feel it, the vague new changes to their relationship. But he wouldn’t let himself do anything about it, so it all stayed undefined, open-ended. Nick kind of hated the insecurity of it, even in those little moments, so used to knowing exactly where he stood with Joe.
He couldn’t keep up like this, the way they were right now.
--
Another couple of cities and a couple more shows and Nick was grateful everyday that he was getting to do this, no matter how much the lifestyle took out of him sometimes.
Their hotel room this time had a balcony and Joe had been out there a lot since they’d checked in, talking on the phone or taking pictures with his zoom lens of the unsuspecting people on the street or just sitting quietly, like he was when Nick went out there one evening.
The sky was tinged pink with sunset and it was breezy out, feeling in the air like just before it storms, but the only clouds to be seen were the ones layering low near the horizon.
When Nick came out, Joe smiled up at him. He looked tired, hadn’t slept much the night before.
Nick sat down in the other chair and looked out at the skyline. He tried to relax, be inactive for a little bit, but that wasn’t something he’d ever been very good at. There was always something to be done, something to work on. He stayed where he was anyway, mind going.
They sat there quietly for a while, until the sky went dark-toned like a bruise.
Nick eventually took a breath and said, “Do you think-” but he stopped when he looked over at Joe.
Joe was asleep, half slumped in his chair, head tilted against the back. Nick stood and went over to him, shaking Joe gently and getting him to his feet, taking him inside.
When they got to the bed, Joe turned and put his arms around Nick. Joe was always affectionate when he was sleepy, or when Nick was only half-awake, putting his hands on Nick’s hot skin and stealing hugs while Nick was pliant, still out of it.
“Thanks,” Joe said, arms loose around Nick.
“You’re not in bed yet,” Nick pointed out.
“You wanna hug me in bed?” Joe mumbled against his neck. “Hugging in bed is called something else.”
Nick laughed, airy, barely audible. “Lie down, Joe.”
Joe fell heavily onto the mattress, wrestling with the blankets until they were sort of covering him. He yawned big and closed his eyes and Nick was still standing there for some reason, watching.
“’M’tired of waiting,” Joe said quietly.
“I know,” Nick told him, but Joe was already snoring softly.
--
Nick was getting ready for bed the next night, towel drying his hair and brushing his teeth, when he heard dragging and scraping sounds from main room of the suite.
“Joe,” he called, but only got more of the same heavy noises in reply. He wondered if Joe was somehow under the delusion that his bed would fit on the balcony and he could camp out there.
He saw what all the commotion was about when he came out of the bathroom. Joe had pulled the long table near the front door to the middle of the room and was lying under it, lots of pillows cushioned beneath him.
Nick stopped, head tilting to look down at Joe. “What are you doing?”
“Hey, put a blanket over the table,” Joe said.
“You’re kidding me.”
Joe just pointedly snuggled into the pillows.
Nick gave an exaggerated sigh and got the white duvet from Joe’s bed and threw it over, pulling and pushing at it until it was covering the legs of the table, blocking Joe in completely.
“Awesome,” came Joe’s voice from underneath. Nick just snorted. After a moment Joe said, “Are you coming in or what?”
Nick crawled under and let the blanket fall back down, stretching out on the pillows next to Joe.
“This is ludicrous,” Nick told him.
Of course, that prompted Joe to start singing the radio edit of an old Ludacris song, making up the lyrics he couldn’t remember. When he got to, “Backseat, windows up, that’s the way we like to-” Nick had to cover his mouth to get him to stop.
Nick could feel Joe’s lips against his palm and then Joe turned his head towards him, leaving Nick’s hand to rest against Joe’s cheek. They were close, radiating body heat, nearly sharing breaths with faces less than a foot apart.
“Don’t like that one?” Joe asked. “I’ll take requests.”
“I’ll take a raincheck,” Nick replied.
“You sure? I could sing Pizza Girl.”
Nick took his hand away, burying his face against the pillows. “Nooooo,” he said. He lifted his head again, not quite suppressing a smile, peeking at Joe. He’d left a bedside lamp on, but little of its light was getting through the blanket hanging down all around them. He could still see Joe’s face through the dimness though, grinning over at him, pleased.
Nick reached out to slip Joe’s glasses off and set them aside, mumbling, “Can’t sleep with these on,” because Joe had once snapped the arm off a pair doing that. He excelled at breaking things even when he wasn’t awake.
Nick cradled his hand over Joe’s cheek again. Joe just blinked at him, trying to keep his eyes focused. They fluttered closed when Nick gently thumbed at the lashes, feeling the soft give of them against his skin. He moved his hand down Joe’s face, thumb catching at the corner of Joe’s mouth, and cupped his fingers loosely over Joe’s jawline.
Joe ducked his head forward, his lashes lowered and a soft smile curving his lips, kind of shy in a way he never was with Nick.
Nick let Joe tuck his body in closer, his hand curling around the back of Joe’s neck.
The sound of Kevin’s voice made Nick jerk awake. He was disoriented, brain trying to catch up, and Joe was molded to his side, warm, arm halfway up Nick’s shirt.
“What are you guys doing?” Kevin asked.
Nick sat up quick and hit his head on the underside of the table, Joe’s arm going slack and sliding down his body before Joe roused, rolling onto his back. Nick panicked for a second and then he realized that all Kevin could see was Joe’s socked feet sticking out from beneath the blanket.
“We’re up,” Nick called, voice rough.
There was a pause. “You’re sleeping under a table.”
“We were,” Joe corrected, indignant.
“Well. Wake up call.”
Joe yawned and said, “Thanks, Kev,” less resentful this time.
Kevin left and Joe rolled over onto his side again, sighing.
Nick let them lie there for another five minutes before getting them both up and moving.
--
The Q & A’s they were doing lately were all pretty much the same, talking about the tour and Nick’s side project and Kevin’s wedding.
The one they had that day touched on those things briefly before getting right into their personal lives.
Sometimes Nick could tell that the interviewer hated having to ask those kinds of questions as much as he hated answering them. This was not one of those times.
“So, Nick, you know what I’m going to ask. Any girlfriends we should know about?” she said, angling the mic towards him.
He almost took it from her before he realized she wouldn’t have one for herself. “Um,” he said, “I’m just focusing on the tour right now, and like I said, in a few months my solo album-”
“So you’re not even looking?” she asked.
“No. I’m happy with what I have right now,” he said, because it was true. He didn’t feel lacking.
She tilted the mic towards Joe. “And you?”
Joe looked at Nick, grinning, and replied, “What he said,” and the woman laughed.
--
Their lives were pretty demanding right then, more interviews and back-to-back shows and traveling. It wore them out good. They finally got a night where they’d be able to sleep in the next morning and Nick was looking forward to it. He was feeling weird, kind of homesick, and he wanted to sleep it off, already tucked in by the time Joe finished getting ready for bed.
Joe came over in just his boxer-briefs and threw Nick’s blankets aside, kneed up onto the mattress so he could straddle Nick’s hips. Nick didn’t know where to put his hands.
“You’re on my side of the bed,” Joe said. He was smirking down at Nick, bathed in the lamplight. Nick found himself staring.
Nick knew Joe was good-looking, but it wasn’t something he thought about often, so accustomed to seeing his stupid face. It still struck him sometimes, though, how attractive his brother was. Even now, with dark smudges of sleeplessness under Joe’s eyes, the exhaustion showing through. Nick looked up at him, the curves of Joe’s shoulders bare, his hair dark against the white of the walls behind him. Joe was smiling down at him, sitting back and letting him look. Nick’s eyes traced the line of Joe’s throat and the angle of his jawline, studied his face. He could pick out all the features they shared, same shape to his eyes as Nick’s, same nose, same generous give of his mouth. But it wasn’t those similarities that made Joe’s face more familiar to Nick than anyone’s ever would be.
“Nicholas,” Joe said so fondly that it made Nick’s chest hurt a little, hitching with his breath.
His feelings for Joe were so strong anyway, they didn’t need to add this to everything, whatever it was. It was too much.
His voice cracked when he said, “Joe,” barely above a whisper.
Joe’s face softened and he leaned in, saying, “Hey, it’s okay. We can just sleep, all right?”
He set his mouth to Nick’s, laid shallow little kisses there while Nick shut his eyes tight and dug his blunt fingers into Joe’s shoulders, kissing back lightly.
“It’s okay,” Joe whispered again, lips brushing against Nick’s.
--
Nick was feeling better the next morning even though Joe had stolen most of the blankets to tangle himself into a cocoon, his face buried against Nick’s shoulder.
They had the day free so they all went out, got lunch together and checked out some of the places around the city.
Joe was in a good mood too, sort of manic with energy, hanging all over Nick one second and getting distracted by something else the next. He saw a coat that he liked, so Nick got it for him when Joe wasn’t paying attention. Nick had bought plenty of things for him before, but Joe made a big deal about it, gleeful and smug, saying Nick didn’t have to sweeten him up like that when no one else was around to hear and it made Nick’s skin prickle with heat.
Back in their van, Joe leaned his head on their mom’s shoulder and said, “I am beat,” and Mom went awww and patted him on the arm, but Nick could tell Joe wasn’t tired.
In the elevator back up to their hotel room, Joe got close, conspiratorial.
“Did you sleep okay last night?” he said, which was an odd question to ask right then. “Feeling good today?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, and Joe smiled all slow and secret.
--
Joe's mouth was soft and insistent against his, sucking at his bottom lip and biting a little, gently, slicking his tongue into him.
They hadn’t been back in their room for long when Joe went playful, wrestled him flat onto the floor and just held over him. Nick had said, “Uh,” dumbly, and Joe had mumbled back, “If you won’t, I have to,” and kissed him.
Nick let it happen, just a quick one on the mouth at first, and he’d been stupid to think it would stop there. Give Joe an inch and he’d take several thousand miles.
If Joe would just back off for a second, maybe Nick could think, focus on anything beyond Joe’s mouth on his, Joe’s hands on his shoulders holding him down, his own cock awake and aching in his jeans.
Nick was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to feel this good, kissing his brother.
Joe finally did pull away and his mouth was all swollen and wet and the way he was looking down at Nick, it was- well, Nick didn’t know how to categorize that.
“See, I told you,” Joe said, voice gone low. His hand rubbed at Nick’s arm and squeezed restlessly at his bicep.
Joe started kissing him again and eased himself down, slowly brought their lower bodies into contact. Nick whimpered, feeling Joe’s dick pressed hard against his through the denim of their jeans. Their kisses went uncoordinated, trying to get used to it, Joe riding his hips against Nick’s in unsteady little thrusts.
Nick rutted up, instinctive, and it made Joe’s mouth stutter off his, moaning. Joe was trembling, his face pink, and when he fucked against Nick again, Nick couldn’t take it, overwhelmed. He grasped a shaky hand at Joe’s hip, held him away.
“Don’t be like that,” Joe said, trying to fit their bodies together again, but Nick wouldn’t let him. Joe made an upset sound, started undoing the fly of his own jeans, and Nick’s hand fell away as Joe shoved his jeans down his hips. Joe’s dick was bare and Nick hardly got a look at him before Joe wrapped his hand around it, started stroking while Nick watched.
“Wanna kiss you,” Joe breathed, all strained and strung out. He took Nick’s mouth again, groaning as he got his tongue into Nick.
Nick’s mind was stuck on the fact that Joe was jerking off while he was kissing Nick and all Nick wanted right then was to be able to come. He started pulling at his own fly, yanking it open so he could slip his hand in and get it around his dick. He reflexively sucked on Joe’s tongue at the feeling of the first few strokes and Joe muffled a sound against his mouth before he broke away.
“God,” Joe muttered, voice tight.
They were both breathing so loud, heavy. Nick looked down between them while he had a chance, saw that Joe was just holding himself, hand flexing in little squeezes around his dick, wet at the slit.
Joe looked down too, noticing that Nick had his hand in his briefs, front of them stretched out as he touched.
“Let me see,” Joe demanded, reaching for the waistband.
Nick shook his head no and Joe’s brow crumpled, taking his hand away, watching where Nick fisted his dick even though Joe couldn’t see anything.
“God, Nick,” Joe said, starting to stroke himself off again at the same rhythm Nick was. He leaned back in, put his mouth to Nick’s, but they weren’t at it very long before they were just panting together, too far gone to really kiss.
Joe came first, touching his forehead to Nick’s and closing his eyes tight, spilling warm all over Nick’s stomach. Nick followed right after, soaking the front of his briefs, cock pulsing wet in his grasp.
--
It happened a couple more times like that, right before they went to bed, and each time they could barely stop kissing long enough to get themselves cleaned up and go to sleep.
Joe seemed completely blissed out about the whole set-up, but it worried Nick, how strong the impulse was now that they’d gone through with it. The temptation was huge, being able to have that whenever he wanted, knowing he could have more. He could see it getting out of hand really fast if he wasn’t careful.
--
They went to dinner one night at Nick’s suggestion, just the two of them.
Nick really wanted to drive one of the cars available to them, but he knew it wasn’t really safe to go without someone from security. It was probably for the best anyway, given that they couldn’t make up their minds about which place to eat.
They finally found somewhere and, as Joe was getting out the SUV, he tripped a little and wrapped his hand around Nick’s elbow for balance. He just kind of kept his hand there even after he got his feet under him, clutching at the arm of Nick’s jacket as they went inside.
Joe had a thing about always trying new food when they were in different countries, even when it was a place they’d visited before. Nick had to stop him this time by ordering for him.
“Way to butcher the language,” Joe told him after the server walked away.
“Wow, ungrateful,” Nick complained. “I just saved you the trouble of ordering.”
“My hero,” Joe said, and he reached under the table to squeeze at Nick’s knee.
Nick jumped, yelped a little, undignified.
Joe tried to hide his smile behind his glass as he took a sip of water.
--
They got back to their room and settled in for the night like they usually did and had always done. But Nick could feel them gravitating towards one another, both of them thinking about it and being pretty obvious.
They finally goaded each other into it, in Joe’s bed while the TV droned useless in the background. Nick let them take their pants off, which wasn’t something they’d done before. He ended up on top, between Joe’s spread legs, moving together as they kissed, working themselves up.
They broke apart after a while, just needing to breathe, but when Nick tried to go back in, Joe stopped him with a hand on his chest, panting. He had his lower lip tucked between his teeth and his brows furrowed together, staring between them. Nick glanced down too and caught on to what Joe was looking at.
There was a dark spot at the front of Nick’s shorts, dampness he’d been able to feel as they were kissing, building up and then sinking into the fabric. “It’s just, you know. Pre-come,” he muttered.
“That’s a lot,” Joe said, lisping, mouth all used-looking. “Is it always like that for you?”
“Sometimes,” Nick admitted, words pushed out hard with the heaving of his chest. “Last few times we… whatever, it was like that.”
Joe let out a humming little sigh. “Can I see this time?”
Nick wet his throat, swallowing against that nervous, keyed-up feeling he got high in his chest when they did anything like this. He couldn’t ever back off once they got this far.
Nick reared back, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and hitched them down, kicked them off his legs. He braced himself over Joe again and his dick swayed under its own weight, flushed dark. It was so slick at the head, shining and messy.
Joe whispered his name, breathing gone heavy.
He couldn’t look Joe in the eye, face hot with knowledge that Joe could see just how much Joe got to him.
Nick reached down to wrap a hand around his own dick, just under the head. He felt swollen, filled out stiff and too hot beneath tender skin. He worked himself a little, just squeezing, rough fingers rubbing good and tight around the shaft. They both watched as more wetness pushed out the slit, a clear drop of it welling up and dripping slow onto the front of Joe’s boxer-briefs right where the bulge of his cock was outlined. The string of it clung and broke, soaking into the cotton.
“Nick. Let me take mine off too,” Joe said, pleading. He shoved a hand down the front of his shorts, knuckles visible under the fabric. “Rub off on me, let me feel it,” he rambled on, words crowded together.
Joe was actually waiting for him this time, leaving it entirely up to Nick. He could say no, he should say no, but Joe had already put the image in his head.
He said yes and Joe echoed it back at him, drawing it out as he got his own shorts down and off. Both of them bared, Joe tugged Nick down by the hip just as Nick was lowering himself and they ended up pressed together awkwardly, first-time skin on skin making them hiss.
Nick was surprised how it felt, being naked like that, how smooth their skin was sliding together, overheated, moving against each other natural but clumsy.
Joe was still watching-they both were-as the head of Nick’s cock slipped against his, leaving Joe’s dick wet. Joe swore under his breath seeing it, rutting up against him just right and making Nick gasp, another fat drop of pre-come smearing onto Joe’s skin.
--
Somehow, somewhere along the way, Joe realized that the easiest way for him to get this from Nick was to ask for it, let Nick know how much he wanted it. That way it wasn’t about Nick giving in, it was about what he was allowing Joe to have. There was still this contrary, little brother instinct in Nick to resist if Joe just tried to take, all of that getting mixed up with his natural inclination to be in charge. So now they’d ended up like this, because Joe wasn’t too proud to beg, not when it came to this, and Nick needed to withhold, even if only for a minute or two.
Nick wasn’t sure how Joe had figured all of this out before he did.
--
-End Part One-
Continue to Part Two
Recipient: lakeeffectgirl
Title: Wear the crown in another world
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 18,000
Warnings: D/s themes
Disclaimer: Never happened.
A/N: Many thanks to novaberry for the beta. Title from Saint Etienne.
Summary: It wasn’t about Nick giving in, it was about what he was allowing Joe to have.
The request: Nick in control.
It was still pretty early in the night when Nick got the call.
He didn’t say anything when he first picked up, too put off by the racket in the background, some song he didn’t recognize because Lisa and Jess were deliberately massacring the vocals. He could barely hear Joe breathing into the mouthpiece over that.
Nick could tell Joe had been drinking as soon as he spoke.
“Nick! I can hear you’re there. Nick J. Nicholas Jerry-”
“Turn the music down.”
After a pause, all the background noise was gone.
“Can you hear me now?” Joe’s voice was all muffled, mouth too close to the phone.
“Yeah, Joe.” He tried to keep his tone level, smoothed out. “What’s up?”
Joe’s voice was normal again when he said, “Mom asked me to try making it home tonight.”
They had a full day tomorrow. Nick didn’t know why Joe had bothered going out at all when he’d already spent the night before with the girls. “This is you trying?”
“Nick,” Joe said, drawling it out, half exasperated, half repentant. “Guilt-tripping won’t make me any less...” He paused. “Tipsy.”
“But it might help you learn.”
“You should be helping me decide what to do. Should I stay or should I go?”
In the background, Jess and Lisa started singing The Clash.
Nick rolled his eyes.
He didn’t understand why Joe had to waste the few nights they had at home this way. Nick knew what Lisa and Jess got up to in their spare time. He couldn’t really pass judgment on that because they were their own people, nearly twenty-six. But at the same time, their age was part of the problem. He just honestly didn’t know what they wanted with Joe.
Nick made the decision to go get him.
--
He felt like the disapproving little brother buzzkill as he stood in the middle of Jess and Lisa’s hotel room, waiting for Joe to get his boots on.
Jess tried to make small talk. Nick tried to be receptive. He was always friendly to both girls, but he didn’t really click with them. Not the way Joe did.
Joe was taking forever to get his jacket on, kept missing the sleeves, so Nick went over and took it from him, helped him into it.
Joe turned then and smiled at him, his hair all mussed up. There was some color smudged on his mouth-the same shade Lisa was wearing on her own lips.
“Hold on,” Nick said, swiping at Joe’s soft bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, smearing the red tint away. It came off easily, glossy and cloying, giving way the flushed pink of Joe’s mouth underneath. Joe was quiet, breathing hot against Nick’s skin.
When Nick pulled away, Joe licked his lips, looking at Nick’s mouth like he did sometimes.
“Let’s go,” he said, and Joe nodded.
The good-byes went on longer than Nick thought necessary, Joe promising the girls he’d try to see them one more time while they were all still in L.A. and hugging for too long.
Nick had known there wouldn’t be many cameras outside, if at all. He clamped a hand on Joe’s shoulder and tried to hustle him past the couple of guys who were there, hurry him from the hotel’s front door to the SUV. Joe kept his head down, ducking out of the way of the flashes and pretending not to hear the questions being called out to him.
In the car, Joe kept saying, “Sorry,” to Nick and to the driver.
They were dropped off at the house and Nick managed to get Joe into his room before they could be intercepted by their parents.
Joe sat down on the bed without being told and Nick went to knees to unlace Joe’s boots and drag them off, all while Joe petted at his curls. When he got back to his feet, Joe stood too.
“Are you mad at me?” Joe asked, looping his arms around Nick’s waist, hugging himself to Nick’s front. “I hate when you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not,” Nick said. His hands hovered briefly and then settled on Joe’s sides. He could smell alcohol and perfume clinging to Joe’s shirt, his hair.
Joe’s chest was starting to rise and fall a little faster against his.
“Good,” Joe murmured, “that’s good,” and then he turned his head, his lips skimming against the sensitive skin of Nick’s throat.
The feeling Joe’s five o’clock shadow and the damp heat of his slack mouth made Nick take in a sharp breath.
“Joe,” he said quietly.
Joe’s hands started roaming, pushing Nick’s shirt up in back and skimming fingertips down the curve of his spine.
The only light in the room was coming from the hallway, door ajar, and the fact that anyone could walk by should have made Nick push away and put Joe to bed. If the overhead light had been on, he probably would have, but the darkness made it easier for him to stand there and let it happen.
“I’m not just doing this because I’m drunk,” Joe told him, voice just above a whisper.
“Joe,” Nick said again, more firmly this time, his hands tightening on Joe’s sides.
Joe’s mouth opened against Nick’s pulse point, teeth dragging across the skin when he pulled away just far enough to mutter, “We should-”
He tried to get closer and Nick staggered, keeping them both upright. Joe didn’t seem to notice.
“You know what I’m talking about, I know you do,” Joe said. He yanked at Nick’s shirt collar, baring skin. He put his mouth there, wet, threatening to bite.
Nick forgot to breathe for a second, feeling caught out, like he was the one who’d done something wrong. He was having trouble keeping up with Joe’s words, Joe’s hands.
Joe pressed their hips together and Nick could feel that they were both reacting to this.
Joe whimpered, “God, we should,” and that was enough to spur Nick into action, make him put space between them.
Joe grunted when Nick pushed him down on the bed, forcing him to lie down.
“C’mon,” Joe groused, but he rolled over onto his stomach anyway, burying his face against the pillow.
By the time Nick went for a glass of water and put it at Joe’s bedside, Joe was asleep.
--
Nick was hunched over his laptop, trying to concentrate, keep what happened the night before off his mind.
Joe came over and dropped himself next to Nick on the couch. When Nick didn’t say anything or look up, Joe ducked into his line of sight, made Nick keep his eyes on Joe’s as they both sat up straight.
Joe was grinning as he said, “Hi.”
Nick felt his lips quirk into a smile.
Joe had been weird all day-trying too hard to be normal, roughhousing with Frankie and getting everyone’s attention with stupid tricks, alternating between bickering with Kevin and trying to hug him afterward.
Nick had been watching him the whole time, last night replaying in his head like a loop, compulsive.
Joe was quiet towards him most of the day, but they hadn’t really had any time alone, so there hadn’t been an opportunity to discuss that, if they were going to. Nick had planned to leave that up to Joe.
Now that they were by themselves, Nick wasn’t sure he would be okay with talking about it after all.
After about ten minutes of Joe silently looking over Nick’s shoulder, he sighed against Nick’s ear and said, “Why do they say, ‘Eat your heart out’? What does that even mean?”
Nick shifted away so he could look at Joe. “What?”
“You know, that saying. I know what it means, but where did it come from?”
Nick gestured to the computer, offering up the internet, but Joe just shrugged like it wasn’t worth the effort to look it up. Nick went back to reading.
“Because I’m pretty sure you can’t eat your own heart out,” Joe said a few moments later. “You know?”
When Nick looked up again, Joe tried biting at his own chest. He looked really stupid and Nick couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking his head, and Joe leaned back, pleased. But then his expression settled into something more neutral and he said, “Sorry about last night.”
Nick knew he wasn’t talking about the drinking.
Joe didn’t seem all that remorseful though. The look on his face was more appraising than anything else, like he was trying to read Nick’s expression, gauge.
Nick realized then that Joe was trying to give them an easy way out of this. Nick could shrug it off and say, “Yeah, I can’t believe you let yourself get like that,” and they would pretend it never happened, blame it on the inebriation. Maybe that was the whole reason Joe had gotten halfway to trashed in the first place.
Nick could end this now, clean and simple. The possibility was right there.
He swallowed hard and said, “We both know you weren’t that drunk,” not even sure why he was saying it.
Joe nodded shortly, a little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, this hopeful look on his face. Nick had to turn away when his heart started thudding anxious in his chest.
--
The next few days were weird.
Their mom wanted to hang out because they were to set to go on tour again soon and, even though she was going with them, they never got to hang out much as a family when they were traveling. Nick was fine with that because he didn’t get to spend enough time with her or Frankie as it was. Joe and Kevin seemed to have the same idea. They all watched movies together or went shopping or helped her around the house.
It was so familiar and domestic that it made Nick feel strange, guilty, imagining how upset his parents would be if they found out about things that hadn’t even happened yet, wondering if they would try to blame Joe for it because he was older.
A couple of those nights, Joe came up from the side and hugged Nick roughly and asked if he wanted to stay in Joe’s room. Nick would shake his head, chest expanding with his breaths under the band of Joe’s arm, and he’d say he wanted to sleep in his own bed while he still had the chance.
Joe would hum some noncommittal sound and wander away.
--
The day before they left, Joe cornered Nick in his room.
“Are you gonna be this awkward when we’re on tour? It’s like you’re going through puberty all over again.”
“It’ll be fine,” Nick said, wanting to add that he was always more professional than Joe, but he didn’t really feel like getting into it right then.
Joe put his hands on Nick’s shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles. “Yeah, you’ll be good,” Joe agreed.
Nick’s eyes went closed, turning his head away from where Joe was standing right in front of him, looking into Nick’s face. He tried to shrug Joe off, but Joe just sighed, invaded Nick’s space even more.
“You’re being so weird about this,” Joe said, like he was amused. “It doesn’t have to be weird.”
Nick laughed, humorless and abrupt, and looked up at him.
“It is weird, and it’s-bad. This is pretty bad, just thinking about it.”
Joe said, “It could be good,” quietly insistent. His eyes dropped to Nick’s mouth. “If you would just…”
Joe’s hand curled around the back of Nick’s head, dragging Nick forward as he leaned in and pressed their mouths together. It was forceful and brief, almost violent, more of an assertion than a kiss, like they had to get that out of the way before they could do anything else.
Joe tore away and heaved a breath, looking at Nick, heated. Nick touched his fingers to his own mouth, saw Joe track the movement.
They were both startled away from each other when a loud, two-beat knock came at the door. That was always the cursory warning Frankie gave before he sauntered right in.
He had a Wii controller dangling from his hand. He stopped short when he saw both of them just standing there uneasily next to the wall.
“What’s going on?” he asked, suspicious.
“We were talking about how nosy you are,” Joe said.
“Nuh uh,” replied Frankie, rolling his eyes. Then, “Were you really?”
Joe said yes, teasing and entirely nonchalant, but Nick barely paid them attention, mouth feeling weird on his face, ears buzzing with the unpleasant adrenaline rush of almost getting themselves caught.
--
In the first city of the tour, they were standing in the hotel lobby getting ready to go up and Dad was on the phone with whoever made all their advance reservations. He held the phone away for a second and asked Nick if he and Joe wanted to keep rooming together during the later tour dates.
Nick looked over to where Joe was talking to one of the unimpressed bellhops, trying to get him to crack a smile, and said yes.
--
When he really considered it, he knew there was all this want in him, vague but overwhelming. If he tried to think about it any further than that, he always hit a weird mental block before all that need could twist itself into something more explicit. He could feel it was there once he realized, though, urge lingering beneath the surface, all these nameless things he wanted to do to Joe.
It got him flustered if he thought about it too much, unsettled, wondering how yet another anomaly had happened to him. So he tried not to think about it at all, even though he knew Joe was waiting for something to happen. Day to day, around other people, it was pretty much business as usual between them. But sometimes he could practically feel Joe’s anticipation.
--
It wasn’t until the third stop of the tour that they were idle enough for something to happen.
Nick was sitting at the end of an overstuffed loveseat in their hotel, notebook in his lap, trying to write. They should have been getting some rest because they had a show tomorrow, but the jet lag was throwing them off, messing up their sleep schedules.
Joe was watching the tail end of a movie. The credits hadn’t even rolled before he came over, sat down facing Nick, his leg folded under him, almost hovering over Nick.
He took Nick’s notebook and tossed it onto the end table.
Nick shifted into the corner of the loveseat, rubbing his palms on his thighs, denim thin and soft. He could already see where this would be going if he didn’t get up now, but he couldn’t work up any momentum.
“I was writing.”
“We’re supposed to be sleeping,” Joe reminded him.
Nick wet his lips, dry from pulling in quick little breaths through his mouth. “So go to sleep.”
“I wanna do something first, bossy.”
“Joe,” Nick said warningly, heartbeat picking up already.
“It’s okay,” Joe soothed.
Nick closed his eyes. He could feel Joe getting closer, both of them breathing hard and they hadn’t even done anything yet.
Joe kissed him, just a press of their lips, but it wasn’t brutal and quick like last time. This was drawn out, easy for how impossible it seemed, and it made Nick’s mouth feel too sensitized, tinged with heat.
They broke apart. Nick kept his eyes closed.
Joe leaned in again, lips barely brushing against Nick’s, their bodies held tense and mouths pliant, parted against one another. They were suspended like that for a moment and then Joe fit them closer together, his tongue slipping into Nick’s mouth warm and wet and slow. Nick let it happen, let himself register the hot shock of sensation, Joe’s tongue pushing against his, tentative. The kiss was soft, but the feeling of it hit Nick harsh and sudden, going feverish under his clothes, arousal flooding through him too readily. He roughed Joe away, pulled them apart.
Joe just looked at him, lips red, and he tried to get at Nick’s mouth again, but Nick held him off. Joe groaned, leaning all his weight against the back of the couch, burying his face against his arm. “Nick,” he said, more frustration packed into that one syllable than Nick had ever heard from Joe.
Nick could see it, Joe’s jeans tented out in front.
Joe got up and went to the bathroom and Nick sat there until his breathing evened out, trying not to think about what Joe was doing right then.
--
During the show the next evening, right in the middle of a song, Joe came over and threw his arm across Nick’s shoulder, casual, like it belonged there. Nick looked up, saw Joe’s mouth all close and his eyes narrowed, intense.
He knew Joe hadn’t been trying to get to him, just being how he always was, but it still made Nick falter, almost miss a chord. Nick got kind of angry at himself for being thrown off by such a simple little thing.
Later that night, they got into their separate beds.
Nick tried to force himself to relax, let the night soak in. Despite that one moment, it had been a great show, a great audience too, but all he could think about was what had happened the day before.
“Joe,” he said into the darkness, and there was a long silence after that where words should have been.
He felt tense and irrational for it, like he was anticipating something he’d had years to ready himself for, worried for no good reason.
He finally settled on, “Goodnight.”
“’Night,” Joe said, content. “Love you.”
Nick let out a breath and said, “I love you, too,” because he knew that he did even though he wasn’t sure what exactly it meant with them anymore.
--
For a while after that, Joe got a little more aggressive. Not in his tactics so much, just in general. He was rough with Nick, wrestled with him all the time-hugging him one second and digging his fingers the next, shoving Nick so that he went unsteady on his feet.
Even though it wasn’t anything new to them, Nick thought Joe would try something nearly every time, but they’d just end up staring at each other before pushing away.
Nick finally hit his threshold one day when Joe sneak-attacked him, tackled him onto the bed. They started grappling, breaking into a sweat with the exertion. Nick went half-hard in his jeans from the physicality of it, energy working him up. It happened to both of them on occasion and usually wasn’t a big deal, but this time Nick felt something like anger, hot and violent, making his teeth grit. He wasn’t angry though. He was just really close to frustrated.
He got Joe underneath him, pinned him hard and bore down on him, looking into his face. Nick's knee came up between Joe’s legs, thigh pressed right up against Joe’s dick.
“Oh,” Joe said quietly, blushing high across his cheeks, eyes going half-lidded.
Nick fisted his hands in the fabric of Joe’s shirt. His pulse picked up, knowing they both liked it this way. They were always doing this-Joe provoking Nick, wearing away at his cool detachment until Nick went all in and turned it around on him. Joe always gave up so willingly once he had Nick’s full attention. It was such a weird feeling, the realization that this stupid game they play might go deeper.
This kept happening to Nick lately. It was like a light had been shed on everything he and Joe did together, all their little interactions, the way they worked together. None of it seemed as simple as it used to be.
Nick still didn’t think he could do it. He couldn’t change them like this.
He saw Joe’s eyes go unfocused, dark. It made his dick swell even harder, knowing he could do this to Joe.
Joe’s hips started rolling, seeking friction, and Nick said, “Stop-stop making me want to.”
“You already want to,” Joe said. “I don’t have to make you.”
Nick frowned. He hated being indecisive about anything and it probably wasn’t fair of him to keep wavering, going back and forth-it was maybe messing with Joe’s head the way it was definitely messing with his own, but he deserved some slack here. Joe made it sound so easy when it wasn’t.
“Why are you doing this to yourself?” Joe asked softly, something almost like sympathy in his voice. “You can have-”
He couldn’t have Joe laying it out like that, making it all seem horribly uncomplicated. He let go and shifted off of Joe, onto his back on the bed. When he realized his dick was tenting out the front of his jeans, he rolled onto his stomach.
Joe sat up a little next to him, hand smoothing down Nick’s back.
“It’ll be good,” Joe murmured. “You know it will.”
His hand slid further down, grasped at Nick’s hip and pressed down, making Nick’s hard-on grind against the mattress, head of his dick sensitive against the cotton of his briefs. Joe did it again and the pressure was good, made Nick groan and push Joe away.
Nick was the one to lock himself in the bathroom this time.
--
Nick felt like things should have been fundamentally different between them with all this new baggage, weird and painfully awkward and uncomfortable. But they weren’t, especially now that they were just getting back into the rhythm of touring again.
Joe was the same as always-replying to things with, “That’s what she said,” at moments that rendered the entire conversation nonsensical, lightly mocking paparazzi from the safety of their SUV, doing really inaccurate impressions of the eleven o’clock newscasters in whichever city they were in at the moment.
The only time Nick ever felt uneasy around Joe was when he said something incredibly ill-advised during an interview, and even then, Nick got over it pretty quickly. He lived his life having to monitor everything he said and Joe was the only person Nick could really talk to without feeling judged, or having it reported to Mom and Dad, like Kevin was known to do. And Nick was okay with that. He was sure he’d still feel most comfortable with Joe even if he had a thousand other people to confide in.
There was tension between them now, definitely, threatening to grow and break, but he tried to ignore it-had to, with the way their lives were. He didn’t have the mental energy to worry full-time about this new thing between them, not when they had to work together to keep their routine running smoothly, making each other laugh at stupid little things, helping one another stay sane.
So it was still pretty much the same for Nick when they were out in the real world, having Joe tucked against him in front of a wall of cameras and flashing lights or sharing the cultural whiplash of jumping from one country to another. And there was still that elation he got from the rush of being on stage with his brothers. That never changed.
It was just when things were momentarily quiet, when he and Joe were alone or when Nick had a second or two to think that it all came to the surface again.
He started thinking about Joe when he jerked off.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about Joe in that context before. When he was younger and Joe started telling him about making out or getting under a girl’s shirt for the first time, Nick would think about that, picture Joe with them.
Usually it was a quick rub-out, letting himself have just enough sensation to get off so he could settle down and get to sleep, but he was getting to the age where he could wait a couple of days if he wanted to, let it all build up. He liked seeing it, how much of a load he shot after going without for a day or two, evidence of how well he could hold off. It was always worth it and he came harder like that than when he did it everyday.
Joe was messing all of that up though. Nick couldn’t hold back as well anymore, a lot of his downtime spent thinking about what was happening with them. He was a little annoyed with himself for being unable to keep his mind off it. It got him all pent up, building until he had to do something about it so he could actually think and concentrate on other things. He felt weird afterward, like he should have more willpower, but he figured that getting it over and done with was better than dwelling on it.
He was trying to get it out of the way one morning even though they had to leave soon. Joe was downstairs in the hotel lobby, so Nick sprawled out on Joe’s unmade bed, pushed his shirt high up around his chest so he wouldn't mess up his clothes.
He unbuttoned his jeans and touched himself through his briefs, started to fill out as soon as he got a hand on himself. Nick rubbed at his dick through the cotton, feeling it get bigger, groaning as he hardened up. He tugged the waistband down, held it out of the way with his tucked thumb and wrapped his other hand around his cock, stroking, eyes gone closed.
He had all these half-formed ideas that had never really fleshed themselves out because he always came too fast. He still thought about Joe with girls, thought about telling Joe what he was allowed to do to them. He thought about letting Joe see him like this, but not letting him touch, knowing how much Joe wanted-
Nick went at it quick, hurrying towards the finish, gave himself so much sensation that it made all his muscles tense up, made him come all over his bare stomach.
Recovering, he breathed out hard, already feeling different, less wound up. He cleaned up and tried to pull himself together so he could go downstairs. Looking in the mirror didn't help. There was an obvious flush to his cheeks that just made him blush harder when he saw it.
He was closing the room door just as Joe walked up.
Joe took one look at him and drew closer. He brought his hands up to cup Nick's face, palms cool against hot skin.
"Man, you’re all flushed. What’s wrong?” he asked, suddenly all concern. "Are you okay?"
One of Joe’s hands slid back, fingertips kneading lightly at Nick’s curls sticking damp to the nape of his neck.
Nick tried to step back, looking away. He wasn't used to having Joe in his space, touching him so soon after.
"I'm fine," he said firmly.
And then Joe got it, realization flashing across his features. “Oh,” he said, smiling lewd and swaying closer, breathing in like he was trying to smell Nick.
“We should go,” Nick said.
“Yeah, we should,” Joe agreed. “If you’re all done now.”
He tousled a lingering hand through Nick’s humid-tight curls, a move meant to rile a little brother, not some tender display of affection and intent.
It was getting harder for Nick to tell the difference with Joe these days.
--
Times like that, Nick could feel really feel it, the vague new changes to their relationship. But he wouldn’t let himself do anything about it, so it all stayed undefined, open-ended. Nick kind of hated the insecurity of it, even in those little moments, so used to knowing exactly where he stood with Joe.
He couldn’t keep up like this, the way they were right now.
--
Another couple of cities and a couple more shows and Nick was grateful everyday that he was getting to do this, no matter how much the lifestyle took out of him sometimes.
Their hotel room this time had a balcony and Joe had been out there a lot since they’d checked in, talking on the phone or taking pictures with his zoom lens of the unsuspecting people on the street or just sitting quietly, like he was when Nick went out there one evening.
The sky was tinged pink with sunset and it was breezy out, feeling in the air like just before it storms, but the only clouds to be seen were the ones layering low near the horizon.
When Nick came out, Joe smiled up at him. He looked tired, hadn’t slept much the night before.
Nick sat down in the other chair and looked out at the skyline. He tried to relax, be inactive for a little bit, but that wasn’t something he’d ever been very good at. There was always something to be done, something to work on. He stayed where he was anyway, mind going.
They sat there quietly for a while, until the sky went dark-toned like a bruise.
Nick eventually took a breath and said, “Do you think-” but he stopped when he looked over at Joe.
Joe was asleep, half slumped in his chair, head tilted against the back. Nick stood and went over to him, shaking Joe gently and getting him to his feet, taking him inside.
When they got to the bed, Joe turned and put his arms around Nick. Joe was always affectionate when he was sleepy, or when Nick was only half-awake, putting his hands on Nick’s hot skin and stealing hugs while Nick was pliant, still out of it.
“Thanks,” Joe said, arms loose around Nick.
“You’re not in bed yet,” Nick pointed out.
“You wanna hug me in bed?” Joe mumbled against his neck. “Hugging in bed is called something else.”
Nick laughed, airy, barely audible. “Lie down, Joe.”
Joe fell heavily onto the mattress, wrestling with the blankets until they were sort of covering him. He yawned big and closed his eyes and Nick was still standing there for some reason, watching.
“’M’tired of waiting,” Joe said quietly.
“I know,” Nick told him, but Joe was already snoring softly.
--
Nick was getting ready for bed the next night, towel drying his hair and brushing his teeth, when he heard dragging and scraping sounds from main room of the suite.
“Joe,” he called, but only got more of the same heavy noises in reply. He wondered if Joe was somehow under the delusion that his bed would fit on the balcony and he could camp out there.
He saw what all the commotion was about when he came out of the bathroom. Joe had pulled the long table near the front door to the middle of the room and was lying under it, lots of pillows cushioned beneath him.
Nick stopped, head tilting to look down at Joe. “What are you doing?”
“Hey, put a blanket over the table,” Joe said.
“You’re kidding me.”
Joe just pointedly snuggled into the pillows.
Nick gave an exaggerated sigh and got the white duvet from Joe’s bed and threw it over, pulling and pushing at it until it was covering the legs of the table, blocking Joe in completely.
“Awesome,” came Joe’s voice from underneath. Nick just snorted. After a moment Joe said, “Are you coming in or what?”
Nick crawled under and let the blanket fall back down, stretching out on the pillows next to Joe.
“This is ludicrous,” Nick told him.
Of course, that prompted Joe to start singing the radio edit of an old Ludacris song, making up the lyrics he couldn’t remember. When he got to, “Backseat, windows up, that’s the way we like to-” Nick had to cover his mouth to get him to stop.
Nick could feel Joe’s lips against his palm and then Joe turned his head towards him, leaving Nick’s hand to rest against Joe’s cheek. They were close, radiating body heat, nearly sharing breaths with faces less than a foot apart.
“Don’t like that one?” Joe asked. “I’ll take requests.”
“I’ll take a raincheck,” Nick replied.
“You sure? I could sing Pizza Girl.”
Nick took his hand away, burying his face against the pillows. “Nooooo,” he said. He lifted his head again, not quite suppressing a smile, peeking at Joe. He’d left a bedside lamp on, but little of its light was getting through the blanket hanging down all around them. He could still see Joe’s face through the dimness though, grinning over at him, pleased.
Nick reached out to slip Joe’s glasses off and set them aside, mumbling, “Can’t sleep with these on,” because Joe had once snapped the arm off a pair doing that. He excelled at breaking things even when he wasn’t awake.
Nick cradled his hand over Joe’s cheek again. Joe just blinked at him, trying to keep his eyes focused. They fluttered closed when Nick gently thumbed at the lashes, feeling the soft give of them against his skin. He moved his hand down Joe’s face, thumb catching at the corner of Joe’s mouth, and cupped his fingers loosely over Joe’s jawline.
Joe ducked his head forward, his lashes lowered and a soft smile curving his lips, kind of shy in a way he never was with Nick.
Nick let Joe tuck his body in closer, his hand curling around the back of Joe’s neck.
The sound of Kevin’s voice made Nick jerk awake. He was disoriented, brain trying to catch up, and Joe was molded to his side, warm, arm halfway up Nick’s shirt.
“What are you guys doing?” Kevin asked.
Nick sat up quick and hit his head on the underside of the table, Joe’s arm going slack and sliding down his body before Joe roused, rolling onto his back. Nick panicked for a second and then he realized that all Kevin could see was Joe’s socked feet sticking out from beneath the blanket.
“We’re up,” Nick called, voice rough.
There was a pause. “You’re sleeping under a table.”
“We were,” Joe corrected, indignant.
“Well. Wake up call.”
Joe yawned and said, “Thanks, Kev,” less resentful this time.
Kevin left and Joe rolled over onto his side again, sighing.
Nick let them lie there for another five minutes before getting them both up and moving.
--
The Q & A’s they were doing lately were all pretty much the same, talking about the tour and Nick’s side project and Kevin’s wedding.
The one they had that day touched on those things briefly before getting right into their personal lives.
Sometimes Nick could tell that the interviewer hated having to ask those kinds of questions as much as he hated answering them. This was not one of those times.
“So, Nick, you know what I’m going to ask. Any girlfriends we should know about?” she said, angling the mic towards him.
He almost took it from her before he realized she wouldn’t have one for herself. “Um,” he said, “I’m just focusing on the tour right now, and like I said, in a few months my solo album-”
“So you’re not even looking?” she asked.
“No. I’m happy with what I have right now,” he said, because it was true. He didn’t feel lacking.
She tilted the mic towards Joe. “And you?”
Joe looked at Nick, grinning, and replied, “What he said,” and the woman laughed.
--
Their lives were pretty demanding right then, more interviews and back-to-back shows and traveling. It wore them out good. They finally got a night where they’d be able to sleep in the next morning and Nick was looking forward to it. He was feeling weird, kind of homesick, and he wanted to sleep it off, already tucked in by the time Joe finished getting ready for bed.
Joe came over in just his boxer-briefs and threw Nick’s blankets aside, kneed up onto the mattress so he could straddle Nick’s hips. Nick didn’t know where to put his hands.
“You’re on my side of the bed,” Joe said. He was smirking down at Nick, bathed in the lamplight. Nick found himself staring.
Nick knew Joe was good-looking, but it wasn’t something he thought about often, so accustomed to seeing his stupid face. It still struck him sometimes, though, how attractive his brother was. Even now, with dark smudges of sleeplessness under Joe’s eyes, the exhaustion showing through. Nick looked up at him, the curves of Joe’s shoulders bare, his hair dark against the white of the walls behind him. Joe was smiling down at him, sitting back and letting him look. Nick’s eyes traced the line of Joe’s throat and the angle of his jawline, studied his face. He could pick out all the features they shared, same shape to his eyes as Nick’s, same nose, same generous give of his mouth. But it wasn’t those similarities that made Joe’s face more familiar to Nick than anyone’s ever would be.
“Nicholas,” Joe said so fondly that it made Nick’s chest hurt a little, hitching with his breath.
His feelings for Joe were so strong anyway, they didn’t need to add this to everything, whatever it was. It was too much.
His voice cracked when he said, “Joe,” barely above a whisper.
Joe’s face softened and he leaned in, saying, “Hey, it’s okay. We can just sleep, all right?”
He set his mouth to Nick’s, laid shallow little kisses there while Nick shut his eyes tight and dug his blunt fingers into Joe’s shoulders, kissing back lightly.
“It’s okay,” Joe whispered again, lips brushing against Nick’s.
--
Nick was feeling better the next morning even though Joe had stolen most of the blankets to tangle himself into a cocoon, his face buried against Nick’s shoulder.
They had the day free so they all went out, got lunch together and checked out some of the places around the city.
Joe was in a good mood too, sort of manic with energy, hanging all over Nick one second and getting distracted by something else the next. He saw a coat that he liked, so Nick got it for him when Joe wasn’t paying attention. Nick had bought plenty of things for him before, but Joe made a big deal about it, gleeful and smug, saying Nick didn’t have to sweeten him up like that when no one else was around to hear and it made Nick’s skin prickle with heat.
Back in their van, Joe leaned his head on their mom’s shoulder and said, “I am beat,” and Mom went awww and patted him on the arm, but Nick could tell Joe wasn’t tired.
In the elevator back up to their hotel room, Joe got close, conspiratorial.
“Did you sleep okay last night?” he said, which was an odd question to ask right then. “Feeling good today?”
“Yeah,” Nick said, and Joe smiled all slow and secret.
--
Joe's mouth was soft and insistent against his, sucking at his bottom lip and biting a little, gently, slicking his tongue into him.
They hadn’t been back in their room for long when Joe went playful, wrestled him flat onto the floor and just held over him. Nick had said, “Uh,” dumbly, and Joe had mumbled back, “If you won’t, I have to,” and kissed him.
Nick let it happen, just a quick one on the mouth at first, and he’d been stupid to think it would stop there. Give Joe an inch and he’d take several thousand miles.
If Joe would just back off for a second, maybe Nick could think, focus on anything beyond Joe’s mouth on his, Joe’s hands on his shoulders holding him down, his own cock awake and aching in his jeans.
Nick was pretty sure it wasn’t supposed to feel this good, kissing his brother.
Joe finally did pull away and his mouth was all swollen and wet and the way he was looking down at Nick, it was- well, Nick didn’t know how to categorize that.
“See, I told you,” Joe said, voice gone low. His hand rubbed at Nick’s arm and squeezed restlessly at his bicep.
Joe started kissing him again and eased himself down, slowly brought their lower bodies into contact. Nick whimpered, feeling Joe’s dick pressed hard against his through the denim of their jeans. Their kisses went uncoordinated, trying to get used to it, Joe riding his hips against Nick’s in unsteady little thrusts.
Nick rutted up, instinctive, and it made Joe’s mouth stutter off his, moaning. Joe was trembling, his face pink, and when he fucked against Nick again, Nick couldn’t take it, overwhelmed. He grasped a shaky hand at Joe’s hip, held him away.
“Don’t be like that,” Joe said, trying to fit their bodies together again, but Nick wouldn’t let him. Joe made an upset sound, started undoing the fly of his own jeans, and Nick’s hand fell away as Joe shoved his jeans down his hips. Joe’s dick was bare and Nick hardly got a look at him before Joe wrapped his hand around it, started stroking while Nick watched.
“Wanna kiss you,” Joe breathed, all strained and strung out. He took Nick’s mouth again, groaning as he got his tongue into Nick.
Nick’s mind was stuck on the fact that Joe was jerking off while he was kissing Nick and all Nick wanted right then was to be able to come. He started pulling at his own fly, yanking it open so he could slip his hand in and get it around his dick. He reflexively sucked on Joe’s tongue at the feeling of the first few strokes and Joe muffled a sound against his mouth before he broke away.
“God,” Joe muttered, voice tight.
They were both breathing so loud, heavy. Nick looked down between them while he had a chance, saw that Joe was just holding himself, hand flexing in little squeezes around his dick, wet at the slit.
Joe looked down too, noticing that Nick had his hand in his briefs, front of them stretched out as he touched.
“Let me see,” Joe demanded, reaching for the waistband.
Nick shook his head no and Joe’s brow crumpled, taking his hand away, watching where Nick fisted his dick even though Joe couldn’t see anything.
“God, Nick,” Joe said, starting to stroke himself off again at the same rhythm Nick was. He leaned back in, put his mouth to Nick’s, but they weren’t at it very long before they were just panting together, too far gone to really kiss.
Joe came first, touching his forehead to Nick’s and closing his eyes tight, spilling warm all over Nick’s stomach. Nick followed right after, soaking the front of his briefs, cock pulsing wet in his grasp.
--
It happened a couple more times like that, right before they went to bed, and each time they could barely stop kissing long enough to get themselves cleaned up and go to sleep.
Joe seemed completely blissed out about the whole set-up, but it worried Nick, how strong the impulse was now that they’d gone through with it. The temptation was huge, being able to have that whenever he wanted, knowing he could have more. He could see it getting out of hand really fast if he wasn’t careful.
--
They went to dinner one night at Nick’s suggestion, just the two of them.
Nick really wanted to drive one of the cars available to them, but he knew it wasn’t really safe to go without someone from security. It was probably for the best anyway, given that they couldn’t make up their minds about which place to eat.
They finally found somewhere and, as Joe was getting out the SUV, he tripped a little and wrapped his hand around Nick’s elbow for balance. He just kind of kept his hand there even after he got his feet under him, clutching at the arm of Nick’s jacket as they went inside.
Joe had a thing about always trying new food when they were in different countries, even when it was a place they’d visited before. Nick had to stop him this time by ordering for him.
“Way to butcher the language,” Joe told him after the server walked away.
“Wow, ungrateful,” Nick complained. “I just saved you the trouble of ordering.”
“My hero,” Joe said, and he reached under the table to squeeze at Nick’s knee.
Nick jumped, yelped a little, undignified.
Joe tried to hide his smile behind his glass as he took a sip of water.
--
They got back to their room and settled in for the night like they usually did and had always done. But Nick could feel them gravitating towards one another, both of them thinking about it and being pretty obvious.
They finally goaded each other into it, in Joe’s bed while the TV droned useless in the background. Nick let them take their pants off, which wasn’t something they’d done before. He ended up on top, between Joe’s spread legs, moving together as they kissed, working themselves up.
They broke apart after a while, just needing to breathe, but when Nick tried to go back in, Joe stopped him with a hand on his chest, panting. He had his lower lip tucked between his teeth and his brows furrowed together, staring between them. Nick glanced down too and caught on to what Joe was looking at.
There was a dark spot at the front of Nick’s shorts, dampness he’d been able to feel as they were kissing, building up and then sinking into the fabric. “It’s just, you know. Pre-come,” he muttered.
“That’s a lot,” Joe said, lisping, mouth all used-looking. “Is it always like that for you?”
“Sometimes,” Nick admitted, words pushed out hard with the heaving of his chest. “Last few times we… whatever, it was like that.”
Joe let out a humming little sigh. “Can I see this time?”
Nick wet his throat, swallowing against that nervous, keyed-up feeling he got high in his chest when they did anything like this. He couldn’t ever back off once they got this far.
Nick reared back, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts and hitched them down, kicked them off his legs. He braced himself over Joe again and his dick swayed under its own weight, flushed dark. It was so slick at the head, shining and messy.
Joe whispered his name, breathing gone heavy.
He couldn’t look Joe in the eye, face hot with knowledge that Joe could see just how much Joe got to him.
Nick reached down to wrap a hand around his own dick, just under the head. He felt swollen, filled out stiff and too hot beneath tender skin. He worked himself a little, just squeezing, rough fingers rubbing good and tight around the shaft. They both watched as more wetness pushed out the slit, a clear drop of it welling up and dripping slow onto the front of Joe’s boxer-briefs right where the bulge of his cock was outlined. The string of it clung and broke, soaking into the cotton.
“Nick. Let me take mine off too,” Joe said, pleading. He shoved a hand down the front of his shorts, knuckles visible under the fabric. “Rub off on me, let me feel it,” he rambled on, words crowded together.
Joe was actually waiting for him this time, leaving it entirely up to Nick. He could say no, he should say no, but Joe had already put the image in his head.
He said yes and Joe echoed it back at him, drawing it out as he got his own shorts down and off. Both of them bared, Joe tugged Nick down by the hip just as Nick was lowering himself and they ended up pressed together awkwardly, first-time skin on skin making them hiss.
Nick was surprised how it felt, being naked like that, how smooth their skin was sliding together, overheated, moving against each other natural but clumsy.
Joe was still watching-they both were-as the head of Nick’s cock slipped against his, leaving Joe’s dick wet. Joe swore under his breath seeing it, rutting up against him just right and making Nick gasp, another fat drop of pre-come smearing onto Joe’s skin.
--
Somehow, somewhere along the way, Joe realized that the easiest way for him to get this from Nick was to ask for it, let Nick know how much he wanted it. That way it wasn’t about Nick giving in, it was about what he was allowing Joe to have. There was still this contrary, little brother instinct in Nick to resist if Joe just tried to take, all of that getting mixed up with his natural inclination to be in charge. So now they’d ended up like this, because Joe wasn’t too proud to beg, not when it came to this, and Nick needed to withhold, even if only for a minute or two.
Nick wasn’t sure how Joe had figured all of this out before he did.
--
-End Part One-
Continue to Part Two