[fic] no one will be watching us (why don't we do it in the road?)
title: No One Will Be Watching Us (Why Don't We Do It In the Road?)
author:
liz_hollis
rating: R/NC-17
pairing: Joe/Nick
word count: 3545
summary: Joe never meant for any of it to happen. Nick kind of dub-cons Joe?
warnings: incest, underage, dub-con
disclaimer: This didn't happen.
author's note: Someone said something about never really seeing much in the way of fics where Nick dub-cons Joe. This is my effort to write that. I wrote it in one day. I'm not sure about this one. Hmm...
Joe never meant for it to happen. He never meant for any of it to happen.
It's just that... Joe doesn't get to touch people, really. He likes girls, and he doesn't get to touch them; to know what it feels like to like a girl, want to touch a girl and do it. He knows he's being brought up a certain way, being brought up "right"- to treat women with respect, and wait until marriage to have sex and to learn how to take out his sexual frustration in other ways. In Sunday school they teach him not to touch girls. Maybe holding hands a little is okay, a quick hug is acceptable. But always keep it short and light and leave room for the Holy Spirit between you.
In Sunday school they definitely teach him not to touch boys. And there's always a sharp eye out somewhere for any "abnormal" behavior of that nature. And Joe doesn't really mind that. Whatever.
But they don't teach him not to touch his little brother. They never say it's wrong to grab Nick around the neck and fit his head to Joe's chest and rub his knuckles in Nick's curls until Nick shrieks. They never tell him not to sucker punch Nick in the shoulder and take his hits back until they're wrestling around on the floor, knees and elbows everywhere, laughing until they're breathless and choking. No one says he shouldn't wrap an arm around Nick's thin hips and rest his head against Nick's when he's tired or sad or overwhelmed or just riding home from a half-empty show in the van.
No one bats an eye when Joe does these things, when he touches Nick like this. No one gives them a second glance. So he figures it's fine and he touches Nick whenever he wants and however he wants.
It's just... Nick is so little and cute and sweet and Joe just loves him so much. And Nick adores Joe, idolizes him and hangs on his every word and giggles with an open face and a goofy smile at all the stupid things Joe says and does. Nick's got sweet schoolboy curls and long eyelashes and a crooked little chin and even as a little kid he gets Joe, and Joe just loves him.
And sometimes Joe is so frustrated, so wound up with all these feelings that he doesn't even know what to do with; coming home from a group bowling date with Mandy when he really almost kissed her, or after a concert where there were almost a hundred girls screaming his name, screaming that they loved Joe, or after sneaking an R-rated movie at a friends house. And it makes him feel better, it's a outlet for that pent up energy to come home and go to Nick's room, grab him and tickle him until he cries uncle, wrestle him to the floor and push him and get pushed back. It's a release. It's innocent.
Sometimes Joe will already have a halfsie from whatever got him so frustrated in the first place. Sometimes the roughhousing, just the physical contact when he's already so wound up will get him kind of hard. But it's no big deal. Nick's just a kid, he never even seems to notice, and Joe always waits until he's alone to rub one out. So Joe doesn't worry about it.
But something changes when Nick is twelve, almost thirteen.
Joe starts it. He's lying half on Nick's bed while Nick works on a History packet, bored and singing a stupid, made-up song about Napoleon and a bunch of horny French women. Nick is studiously pretending to ignore him, but the illusion is ruined by the little giggles that keep escaping him every time Joe sings the part in the chorus about Napoleon and his 'Boner-parte'.
Nick gets up to close his bedroom door because they can hear Kevin playing guitar in his room, and he's still in the phase of playing 'Room for Squares' like a broken record. And Joe sticks a foot out and trips Nick backwards, and Nick bounces off the side of the mattress and onto the floor and Joe is following him to the ground and they're wrestling again, a knee in Joe's armpit, Nick's cold toes pushing against his calf, Joe pinching mercilessly at Nick's sides, drawing helpless laugher and occasional loud squawks of protest out of him.
They're rolling around, banging all their sharpest, boniest parts against each other and it's fun, it's normal, it's awesome because Joe isn't bored anymore. It's great, and then he feels Nick's dick getting hard against his leg. They way they're pressed together, Joe can feel it happening, feel it filling out and thickening until it's a full on boner poking Joe's thigh. Joe is ready to laugh and tease Nick about it, call him Nickapoleon Bonerparte, but Nick suddenly presses his hips up sharply, rubbing his hard-on into Joe's leg. Joe looks down, startled, and sees Nick's mouth dropped open a little, spots of color high in his cheeks. And it's such a shock that Joe goes limp and loosens his hold on Nick, and before he realizes what's happened Nick has flipped them over and he's on top of Joe, little Nick with his thin pale arms and little boy body, holding Joe down.
"Whoa, Nicky, wait," Joe says on a whoosh of air, feeling like he's helplessly behind on something.
Nick's eyes are closed tight, a little line drawn between his eyebrows. "Shhh," he hisses admonishingly, like Joe is breaking his focus or something.
And here is Joe's mistake. He shuts up. He lets it happen and doesn't even realize how he's changing the rules, changing everything by doing so. He lets Nick wrap thin fingers around his wrists and hold them to the floor, lets Nick thrust hard and ragged against his stomach, lets him tip forward and drop his forehead to Joe's collarbone, hot wet puffs of breath making a damp spot against Joe's shirt. He lets Nick grunt softly, whimper a little into the skin of Joe's neck, and when Nick comes, shuddering helplessly, Joe feels the wet spot grow on Nick's sleep pants and he turns his head a bit and kisses Nick's soft, slightly sweaty cheek.
Nick rolls off him, breathing like he's run a marathon and laughs a little. "Oh man," he huffs, and looks down at his sticky pants. "Whoa. I'm gonna take a shower." He rolls over quickly and darts a kiss to Joe's cheek. "Night, Joe. Love you," he whispers, just like any other night.
"Love you too, Nicky," Joe says, and it sounds weird, like there's something stuck in his throat.
When Nick is gone, Joe stares at the ceiling and doesn't touch himself for a long time. When he finally breaks and shoves his hand down his pants he feels really, really guilty about it, because maybe they never said anything in Sunday school about touching your brother like this, but Joe gets the feeling it's because they didn't think they needed to.
---
It doesn't happen again for months, and Joe thinks maybe that was it. Maybe it was just an experimentation thing, Nick figuring out his boner and what to do with it. Because Nick sure seems like he's going through some kind of puberty thing lately, all snappish and short-tempered and dickish. Joe feels relieved, like he dodged a bullet.
But it turns out Nick is getting sick. And then Joe is really scared, absolutely terrified in fact, that he almost lost Nick forever. His baby brother and his best friend in the whole world, and just the idea of that make him feel like puking everywhere. When Nick leaves the hospital, armed with needles for stabbing himself with and insulin for injecting himself with if he's about to fucking die because he didn't eat the right thing for lunch, Joe would do just about anything to make sure Nick stays alive, stays okay, stays with him.
The first night back on the bus, Nick pulls aside the curtain to Joe's bunk and looks down at him, and Joe's stomach drops straight to his knees.
The thing about Nick is, he's pretty much always gotten what he wants. Once he figures out what it is he wants, he goes after it with a single-minded determination and focus that sometimes reminds Joe of the Terminator. And Joe knows that Nick is feeling really helpless right now, really scared and beaten down, but he also knows this: Nick is totally aware that Joe can't say no to him right now.
Joe moves over to make room for Nick in the little bunk, and Nick slides in and pulls the curtain. Joe wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Nick feels so thin and breakable under his hands that Joe almost feels in control of the situation. Nick lets them just lie there for a while, lets Joe feel the reassuring heat coming off his living body, lets Joe pinch the muscles of his arms, tap his fingertips against his hollow ribs like a xylophone.
As suddenly as the first time, Nick has climbed on top of Joe and is gripping him with his hands on his shoulders, his knees pressing into Joe's sides. Joe would throw Nick off him, he could do it so easily, but he can't, he won't, and Nick knew that when he came to Joe's bunk. He really is a calculating jerk sometimes, Joe thinks.
Nick is hard already, dick tenting out his shorts and pointing right at Joe's face. Joe feels cross-eyed looking at it.
"What do you want, Nick?" he whispers, staring up at him.
"I want you to jerk me," Nick replies immediately.
Joe feels a cold heat wash over him. His thighs flex under Nick's weight. "This is really messed up, Nicky."
"I don't care," Nick frowns, voice low. "I almost died."
"Oh dude, that's low, Nick." Joe sighs. "Just really below the belt."
"I don't care about that, either," Nick growls and pulls his dick out of his shorts. "C'mon, Joe. Just do it for me." Nick's eyes are bright and feverish under his curls, and he squeezes himself once, his free hand squeezing Joe's arm sympathetically.
Joe looks up at him, and Nick is thin and so pale, dark bruises under his eyes and on his arms from the IV needles, and Joe still just loves him so much.
"Okay," he says and bumps Nick's hand out of the way, wrapping his hand around Nick's length. Nick throws back his head and shoves his fist in his mouth to muffle his moan, and Joe tries really, really hard to focus on Nick and not on how good Nick's dick feels in his hand, how it's making his belly fill with heat and his heart beat fast and his own dick thicken up in his boxers.
Joe jerks Nick slow and steady, trying to do it the way he does it on himself, the way he likes it. He runs his thumb over the head and Nick trembles all over, his fingers digging painfully into the muscle of Joe's shoulder. Joe can't help it, his hips jerk once, and Nick notices his hard-on.
He smirks, somehow managing to look smug and superior even while he's flushed and sweaty, his chest heaving and Joe's hand wrapped around his dick.
"I knew it," he pants, and he shifts his weight back so his ass is pressing down against Joe's aching trapped hard-on. Joe twists his hand around Nick's dick to make him shut up and Nick comes suddenly, shooting off hard and spattering over Joe's arm and chest. After a minute Nick reaches back and fumbles his hand over Joe's dick, cupping it clumsily and rubbing.
Joe grabs his wrist, "No, don't--" but Nick rolls his eyes and ignores him, shaking off Joe's numb fingers.
"Joe. It's all good. Just- don't move," Nick whispers, fixing Joe with this dark, determined stare. And God, Joe just really doesn't want to hurt him, and he's all mixed up, all confused right now about what's going to hurt Nick more. Then Nick's hand is back on his dick, squeezing firm around the hot length of him, and Joe shuts up and lets it happen again.
Joe can feel Kevin staring at him at breakfast the next day. When he looks at him, Kevin's face is carefully neutral but there are these tight lines at the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth, and he just looks... scared sick. Joe feels like puking again, but Kevin doesn't say anything, and things are just like normal between Joe and Nick, and nothing ever gets said.
---
It doesn't happen all the time after that, but it happens often enough. Maybe a three or four times a month, Joe would estimate.
He tries not to think about it, and he especially tries not to think about what it means that these-- incidents don't seem to affect the rest of his and Nick's relationship at all. Joe prefers not to try and analyze what that means about Nick, about him.
Nick starts dating Miley, and they end up dating for a long time, almost two years. Sometimes this means he and Joe hook up less often, sometimes more often, depending on how things are going between Miley and Nick at any given time. They're both so serious and into the relationship, so there are tons of ups and downs, and Joe just never knows what to expect, never knows when Nick is going to take things in a different direction.
When Joe can't avoid thinking about it, when it's late at night and he's so overtired he can't sleep and his mind is doing that wild spinning thing where he can't even control where it goes-- when he has to rationalize it, he reminds himself that it's mostly kid stuff. Half the time they never even get it out of their pants, Nick just gets Joe pressed up against something and rubs against him until they come. The rest of the time it's just handjobs. Nothing too serious.
When Nick and Miley break up, they actually don't hook up for a couple months. It just doesn't happen. Joe figures Nick just isn't interested. It's good, it's better. Everything else is the same, but when they roughhouse or play three-hour video game tournaments, Nick doesn't ever get that look in his eyes, he doesn't pin Joe the same way with his arms and hips and stare.
After the tour ends they get a long enough break to actually go home for awhile. Joe hasn't seen his bedroom in months, and he feels like it should have changed somehow, changed and grown like he has. But it's just the same. It even smells the same, like the Ed Hardy cologne he was still wearing before they left for tour. It's awesome. They have family dinner around their big kitchen table. Their mom cooks spaghetti with sauce from scratch, and Kevin and Nick help her bake rolls. Nick sneaks Frankie sips of his Diet Coke and he runs around the house like a little whirlwind and they all laugh, and Nick catches Joe's gaze from across the table and it's good. He looks better. Happy. It makes Joe happy, like everything is going to be okay.
That night Joe goes to bed early, just because he can, just to climb into his own bed and wrap his old covers around himself. He flips through an old comic book until he falls asleep. He wakes suddenly but somehow easily when Nick slips in, closing the door silently behind him. It's late. Nick pads over to the bed and throws a leg over Joe's chest, sliding easily to sit on top of him.
"Hey," Joe murmurs, squinting up at him. Nick's hair is a messy halo around his head, and he looks like he's been sleeping too, eyes half-mast and lines pressed into the side of his face from the pillow. It's so incongruous. It makes this whole thing feel a lot more innocent than it is.
Nick smiles down at him. "Hey."
"It's good to be home, huh?" Joe says, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind Nick's ear. Nick nods, looking at Joe appraisingly, thoughtfully. Joe waits, waits to find out what it is Nick wants. Nick reaches down, slips his fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his pajama pants and Joe's eyes follow his movements. Nick wraps a hand around himself, and Joe can just see the head of Nick's cock sticking out of the top of his fist.
Nick fists himself slowly, lazily, still watching Joe. Joe clenches the sheets underneath him. When Nick lets go, it's to shimmy down his pants until he can kick them off.
"Joe," he says sweetly, "Open your mouth for me."
"What?" Joe asks dumbly. Nick grips his dick again and shuffles forward a couple inches on Joe's chest. His butt is resting right on Joe's ribcage, and it's hard to draw a full breath. Nick isn't quite so skinny anymore. Nick gazes at Joe like he's searching for something, for his reaction.
"I want to... get in your mouth. I want you to suck me." Nick doesn't even hesitate saying the words, but his face colors up and Joe sees his fingers tighten involuntarily around his dick.
Joe gapes. "No, Nick. C'mon, no way. That's... that's way too far, dude." But it's all empty protests by now, it has been for a long time and Joe knows it. Nick knows it. Nick reaches out and thumbs at the crease of Joe's lips, pushing just the tip of his blunt thumb in until it touches Joe's teeth. When he pulls it back, his thumb glistens a little with saliva.
"Joe, just open. Just... let me put it in," Nick huffs, almost annoyed at Joe's token resistance.
Joe opens his mouth and lets Nick shuffle forward on his knees until the tip of his dick is brushing against Joe's lips. Joe lets Nick slide inside his mouth, feels the heavy weight of him on his tongue, lets Nick press his fingertips into the hollow of Joe's jaw and whisper to him to suck. He lets Nick come in his mouth, listens to Nick mutter JoeJoeJoeJoe quiet and desperate, and afterwards he lets Nick return the favor. And it's the best thing Joe has ever felt, and even as he's shaking and coming in sparking pulses into Nick's mouth, Joe knows he's crossed a huge line, one he can't possibly see a way back over.
Nick crawls back up Joe's body and crushes their mouths together, painful and perfect, and Joe can taste the bitter tang of himself and Nick on their tongues and it's like some kind of drug. Joe thinks I've let this get so out of control, but in his heart he knows he never had it under control to begin with.
---
When Nick has been dating Selena for a few months, he comes to Joe's room one night and pushes him up against the door before Joe can even step away from it, his grin sharp and predatory in the lamplight.
They make out sloppily for a while, something they didn't use to do, something that might be Joe's favorite part of all of this. He likes the way Nick invades his mouth, the way he asserts his dominance over the ridges of Joe's teeth, over the curve of his tongue and the very corners of his mouth.
Nick pulls away, mouthing hotly at the edge of Joe's jaw, nipping his way down Joe's neck. Joe's head thunks back against the door. Nick works his way back up to Joe's ear and leans in, whispering, "Joe."
"Hunh?" Joe manages.
"I want you to teach me how to finger a girl, Joe," Nick whispers into the shell of Joe's ear.
Joe's eyes open, confused. "What? How? I-I don't know how to teach you that. Do you want- a diagram or something? Instructions? I'll need a protractor and some graphing paper."
Nick snorts. "Mouthy. No, I'm gonna practice on you."
Joe stares. "What?"
"And you'll tell me if I'm doing it right," Nick finishes, looking pleased with himself. He's still leaning Joe against the door, one arm across Joe's chest pinning him to the door.
Joe shifts, opens his mouth and closes it again. "Nick... I'm not a girl," he says slowly.
Nick smirks and widens his eyes. "No. You're not." He steps back, dropping his arm. "Take off your pants, Joe."
Joe stares again and then his whole body jerks with surprise when he gets it. "Are you fucking insane, Nick? We- we can't do that!"
"We can do anything we want," Nick hisses, gesturing around at the room. He pushes forward again, kissing Joe, licking into his heated mouth, running his fingers into Joe's hair. It's overwhelming and intoxicating and wrong, and it's everything Joe wants now. "Let me, Joe. I know you want it. Just let me touch you."
Joe lets him.
author:
liz_hollis
rating: R/NC-17
pairing: Joe/Nick
word count: 3545
summary: Joe never meant for any of it to happen. Nick kind of dub-cons Joe?
warnings: incest, underage, dub-con
disclaimer: This didn't happen.
author's note: Someone said something about never really seeing much in the way of fics where Nick dub-cons Joe. This is my effort to write that. I wrote it in one day. I'm not sure about this one. Hmm...
Joe never meant for it to happen. He never meant for any of it to happen.
It's just that... Joe doesn't get to touch people, really. He likes girls, and he doesn't get to touch them; to know what it feels like to like a girl, want to touch a girl and do it. He knows he's being brought up a certain way, being brought up "right"- to treat women with respect, and wait until marriage to have sex and to learn how to take out his sexual frustration in other ways. In Sunday school they teach him not to touch girls. Maybe holding hands a little is okay, a quick hug is acceptable. But always keep it short and light and leave room for the Holy Spirit between you.
In Sunday school they definitely teach him not to touch boys. And there's always a sharp eye out somewhere for any "abnormal" behavior of that nature. And Joe doesn't really mind that. Whatever.
But they don't teach him not to touch his little brother. They never say it's wrong to grab Nick around the neck and fit his head to Joe's chest and rub his knuckles in Nick's curls until Nick shrieks. They never tell him not to sucker punch Nick in the shoulder and take his hits back until they're wrestling around on the floor, knees and elbows everywhere, laughing until they're breathless and choking. No one says he shouldn't wrap an arm around Nick's thin hips and rest his head against Nick's when he's tired or sad or overwhelmed or just riding home from a half-empty show in the van.
No one bats an eye when Joe does these things, when he touches Nick like this. No one gives them a second glance. So he figures it's fine and he touches Nick whenever he wants and however he wants.
It's just... Nick is so little and cute and sweet and Joe just loves him so much. And Nick adores Joe, idolizes him and hangs on his every word and giggles with an open face and a goofy smile at all the stupid things Joe says and does. Nick's got sweet schoolboy curls and long eyelashes and a crooked little chin and even as a little kid he gets Joe, and Joe just loves him.
And sometimes Joe is so frustrated, so wound up with all these feelings that he doesn't even know what to do with; coming home from a group bowling date with Mandy when he really almost kissed her, or after a concert where there were almost a hundred girls screaming his name, screaming that they loved Joe, or after sneaking an R-rated movie at a friends house. And it makes him feel better, it's a outlet for that pent up energy to come home and go to Nick's room, grab him and tickle him until he cries uncle, wrestle him to the floor and push him and get pushed back. It's a release. It's innocent.
Sometimes Joe will already have a halfsie from whatever got him so frustrated in the first place. Sometimes the roughhousing, just the physical contact when he's already so wound up will get him kind of hard. But it's no big deal. Nick's just a kid, he never even seems to notice, and Joe always waits until he's alone to rub one out. So Joe doesn't worry about it.
But something changes when Nick is twelve, almost thirteen.
Joe starts it. He's lying half on Nick's bed while Nick works on a History packet, bored and singing a stupid, made-up song about Napoleon and a bunch of horny French women. Nick is studiously pretending to ignore him, but the illusion is ruined by the little giggles that keep escaping him every time Joe sings the part in the chorus about Napoleon and his 'Boner-parte'.
Nick gets up to close his bedroom door because they can hear Kevin playing guitar in his room, and he's still in the phase of playing 'Room for Squares' like a broken record. And Joe sticks a foot out and trips Nick backwards, and Nick bounces off the side of the mattress and onto the floor and Joe is following him to the ground and they're wrestling again, a knee in Joe's armpit, Nick's cold toes pushing against his calf, Joe pinching mercilessly at Nick's sides, drawing helpless laugher and occasional loud squawks of protest out of him.
They're rolling around, banging all their sharpest, boniest parts against each other and it's fun, it's normal, it's awesome because Joe isn't bored anymore. It's great, and then he feels Nick's dick getting hard against his leg. They way they're pressed together, Joe can feel it happening, feel it filling out and thickening until it's a full on boner poking Joe's thigh. Joe is ready to laugh and tease Nick about it, call him Nickapoleon Bonerparte, but Nick suddenly presses his hips up sharply, rubbing his hard-on into Joe's leg. Joe looks down, startled, and sees Nick's mouth dropped open a little, spots of color high in his cheeks. And it's such a shock that Joe goes limp and loosens his hold on Nick, and before he realizes what's happened Nick has flipped them over and he's on top of Joe, little Nick with his thin pale arms and little boy body, holding Joe down.
"Whoa, Nicky, wait," Joe says on a whoosh of air, feeling like he's helplessly behind on something.
Nick's eyes are closed tight, a little line drawn between his eyebrows. "Shhh," he hisses admonishingly, like Joe is breaking his focus or something.
And here is Joe's mistake. He shuts up. He lets it happen and doesn't even realize how he's changing the rules, changing everything by doing so. He lets Nick wrap thin fingers around his wrists and hold them to the floor, lets Nick thrust hard and ragged against his stomach, lets him tip forward and drop his forehead to Joe's collarbone, hot wet puffs of breath making a damp spot against Joe's shirt. He lets Nick grunt softly, whimper a little into the skin of Joe's neck, and when Nick comes, shuddering helplessly, Joe feels the wet spot grow on Nick's sleep pants and he turns his head a bit and kisses Nick's soft, slightly sweaty cheek.
Nick rolls off him, breathing like he's run a marathon and laughs a little. "Oh man," he huffs, and looks down at his sticky pants. "Whoa. I'm gonna take a shower." He rolls over quickly and darts a kiss to Joe's cheek. "Night, Joe. Love you," he whispers, just like any other night.
"Love you too, Nicky," Joe says, and it sounds weird, like there's something stuck in his throat.
When Nick is gone, Joe stares at the ceiling and doesn't touch himself for a long time. When he finally breaks and shoves his hand down his pants he feels really, really guilty about it, because maybe they never said anything in Sunday school about touching your brother like this, but Joe gets the feeling it's because they didn't think they needed to.
---
It doesn't happen again for months, and Joe thinks maybe that was it. Maybe it was just an experimentation thing, Nick figuring out his boner and what to do with it. Because Nick sure seems like he's going through some kind of puberty thing lately, all snappish and short-tempered and dickish. Joe feels relieved, like he dodged a bullet.
But it turns out Nick is getting sick. And then Joe is really scared, absolutely terrified in fact, that he almost lost Nick forever. His baby brother and his best friend in the whole world, and just the idea of that make him feel like puking everywhere. When Nick leaves the hospital, armed with needles for stabbing himself with and insulin for injecting himself with if he's about to fucking die because he didn't eat the right thing for lunch, Joe would do just about anything to make sure Nick stays alive, stays okay, stays with him.
The first night back on the bus, Nick pulls aside the curtain to Joe's bunk and looks down at him, and Joe's stomach drops straight to his knees.
The thing about Nick is, he's pretty much always gotten what he wants. Once he figures out what it is he wants, he goes after it with a single-minded determination and focus that sometimes reminds Joe of the Terminator. And Joe knows that Nick is feeling really helpless right now, really scared and beaten down, but he also knows this: Nick is totally aware that Joe can't say no to him right now.
Joe moves over to make room for Nick in the little bunk, and Nick slides in and pulls the curtain. Joe wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Nick feels so thin and breakable under his hands that Joe almost feels in control of the situation. Nick lets them just lie there for a while, lets Joe feel the reassuring heat coming off his living body, lets Joe pinch the muscles of his arms, tap his fingertips against his hollow ribs like a xylophone.
As suddenly as the first time, Nick has climbed on top of Joe and is gripping him with his hands on his shoulders, his knees pressing into Joe's sides. Joe would throw Nick off him, he could do it so easily, but he can't, he won't, and Nick knew that when he came to Joe's bunk. He really is a calculating jerk sometimes, Joe thinks.
Nick is hard already, dick tenting out his shorts and pointing right at Joe's face. Joe feels cross-eyed looking at it.
"What do you want, Nick?" he whispers, staring up at him.
"I want you to jerk me," Nick replies immediately.
Joe feels a cold heat wash over him. His thighs flex under Nick's weight. "This is really messed up, Nicky."
"I don't care," Nick frowns, voice low. "I almost died."
"Oh dude, that's low, Nick." Joe sighs. "Just really below the belt."
"I don't care about that, either," Nick growls and pulls his dick out of his shorts. "C'mon, Joe. Just do it for me." Nick's eyes are bright and feverish under his curls, and he squeezes himself once, his free hand squeezing Joe's arm sympathetically.
Joe looks up at him, and Nick is thin and so pale, dark bruises under his eyes and on his arms from the IV needles, and Joe still just loves him so much.
"Okay," he says and bumps Nick's hand out of the way, wrapping his hand around Nick's length. Nick throws back his head and shoves his fist in his mouth to muffle his moan, and Joe tries really, really hard to focus on Nick and not on how good Nick's dick feels in his hand, how it's making his belly fill with heat and his heart beat fast and his own dick thicken up in his boxers.
Joe jerks Nick slow and steady, trying to do it the way he does it on himself, the way he likes it. He runs his thumb over the head and Nick trembles all over, his fingers digging painfully into the muscle of Joe's shoulder. Joe can't help it, his hips jerk once, and Nick notices his hard-on.
He smirks, somehow managing to look smug and superior even while he's flushed and sweaty, his chest heaving and Joe's hand wrapped around his dick.
"I knew it," he pants, and he shifts his weight back so his ass is pressing down against Joe's aching trapped hard-on. Joe twists his hand around Nick's dick to make him shut up and Nick comes suddenly, shooting off hard and spattering over Joe's arm and chest. After a minute Nick reaches back and fumbles his hand over Joe's dick, cupping it clumsily and rubbing.
Joe grabs his wrist, "No, don't--" but Nick rolls his eyes and ignores him, shaking off Joe's numb fingers.
"Joe. It's all good. Just- don't move," Nick whispers, fixing Joe with this dark, determined stare. And God, Joe just really doesn't want to hurt him, and he's all mixed up, all confused right now about what's going to hurt Nick more. Then Nick's hand is back on his dick, squeezing firm around the hot length of him, and Joe shuts up and lets it happen again.
Joe can feel Kevin staring at him at breakfast the next day. When he looks at him, Kevin's face is carefully neutral but there are these tight lines at the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth, and he just looks... scared sick. Joe feels like puking again, but Kevin doesn't say anything, and things are just like normal between Joe and Nick, and nothing ever gets said.
---
It doesn't happen all the time after that, but it happens often enough. Maybe a three or four times a month, Joe would estimate.
He tries not to think about it, and he especially tries not to think about what it means that these-- incidents don't seem to affect the rest of his and Nick's relationship at all. Joe prefers not to try and analyze what that means about Nick, about him.
Nick starts dating Miley, and they end up dating for a long time, almost two years. Sometimes this means he and Joe hook up less often, sometimes more often, depending on how things are going between Miley and Nick at any given time. They're both so serious and into the relationship, so there are tons of ups and downs, and Joe just never knows what to expect, never knows when Nick is going to take things in a different direction.
When Joe can't avoid thinking about it, when it's late at night and he's so overtired he can't sleep and his mind is doing that wild spinning thing where he can't even control where it goes-- when he has to rationalize it, he reminds himself that it's mostly kid stuff. Half the time they never even get it out of their pants, Nick just gets Joe pressed up against something and rubs against him until they come. The rest of the time it's just handjobs. Nothing too serious.
When Nick and Miley break up, they actually don't hook up for a couple months. It just doesn't happen. Joe figures Nick just isn't interested. It's good, it's better. Everything else is the same, but when they roughhouse or play three-hour video game tournaments, Nick doesn't ever get that look in his eyes, he doesn't pin Joe the same way with his arms and hips and stare.
After the tour ends they get a long enough break to actually go home for awhile. Joe hasn't seen his bedroom in months, and he feels like it should have changed somehow, changed and grown like he has. But it's just the same. It even smells the same, like the Ed Hardy cologne he was still wearing before they left for tour. It's awesome. They have family dinner around their big kitchen table. Their mom cooks spaghetti with sauce from scratch, and Kevin and Nick help her bake rolls. Nick sneaks Frankie sips of his Diet Coke and he runs around the house like a little whirlwind and they all laugh, and Nick catches Joe's gaze from across the table and it's good. He looks better. Happy. It makes Joe happy, like everything is going to be okay.
That night Joe goes to bed early, just because he can, just to climb into his own bed and wrap his old covers around himself. He flips through an old comic book until he falls asleep. He wakes suddenly but somehow easily when Nick slips in, closing the door silently behind him. It's late. Nick pads over to the bed and throws a leg over Joe's chest, sliding easily to sit on top of him.
"Hey," Joe murmurs, squinting up at him. Nick's hair is a messy halo around his head, and he looks like he's been sleeping too, eyes half-mast and lines pressed into the side of his face from the pillow. It's so incongruous. It makes this whole thing feel a lot more innocent than it is.
Nick smiles down at him. "Hey."
"It's good to be home, huh?" Joe says, reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind Nick's ear. Nick nods, looking at Joe appraisingly, thoughtfully. Joe waits, waits to find out what it is Nick wants. Nick reaches down, slips his fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his pajama pants and Joe's eyes follow his movements. Nick wraps a hand around himself, and Joe can just see the head of Nick's cock sticking out of the top of his fist.
Nick fists himself slowly, lazily, still watching Joe. Joe clenches the sheets underneath him. When Nick lets go, it's to shimmy down his pants until he can kick them off.
"Joe," he says sweetly, "Open your mouth for me."
"What?" Joe asks dumbly. Nick grips his dick again and shuffles forward a couple inches on Joe's chest. His butt is resting right on Joe's ribcage, and it's hard to draw a full breath. Nick isn't quite so skinny anymore. Nick gazes at Joe like he's searching for something, for his reaction.
"I want to... get in your mouth. I want you to suck me." Nick doesn't even hesitate saying the words, but his face colors up and Joe sees his fingers tighten involuntarily around his dick.
Joe gapes. "No, Nick. C'mon, no way. That's... that's way too far, dude." But it's all empty protests by now, it has been for a long time and Joe knows it. Nick knows it. Nick reaches out and thumbs at the crease of Joe's lips, pushing just the tip of his blunt thumb in until it touches Joe's teeth. When he pulls it back, his thumb glistens a little with saliva.
"Joe, just open. Just... let me put it in," Nick huffs, almost annoyed at Joe's token resistance.
Joe opens his mouth and lets Nick shuffle forward on his knees until the tip of his dick is brushing against Joe's lips. Joe lets Nick slide inside his mouth, feels the heavy weight of him on his tongue, lets Nick press his fingertips into the hollow of Joe's jaw and whisper to him to suck. He lets Nick come in his mouth, listens to Nick mutter JoeJoeJoeJoe quiet and desperate, and afterwards he lets Nick return the favor. And it's the best thing Joe has ever felt, and even as he's shaking and coming in sparking pulses into Nick's mouth, Joe knows he's crossed a huge line, one he can't possibly see a way back over.
Nick crawls back up Joe's body and crushes their mouths together, painful and perfect, and Joe can taste the bitter tang of himself and Nick on their tongues and it's like some kind of drug. Joe thinks I've let this get so out of control, but in his heart he knows he never had it under control to begin with.
---
When Nick has been dating Selena for a few months, he comes to Joe's room one night and pushes him up against the door before Joe can even step away from it, his grin sharp and predatory in the lamplight.
They make out sloppily for a while, something they didn't use to do, something that might be Joe's favorite part of all of this. He likes the way Nick invades his mouth, the way he asserts his dominance over the ridges of Joe's teeth, over the curve of his tongue and the very corners of his mouth.
Nick pulls away, mouthing hotly at the edge of Joe's jaw, nipping his way down Joe's neck. Joe's head thunks back against the door. Nick works his way back up to Joe's ear and leans in, whispering, "Joe."
"Hunh?" Joe manages.
"I want you to teach me how to finger a girl, Joe," Nick whispers into the shell of Joe's ear.
Joe's eyes open, confused. "What? How? I-I don't know how to teach you that. Do you want- a diagram or something? Instructions? I'll need a protractor and some graphing paper."
Nick snorts. "Mouthy. No, I'm gonna practice on you."
Joe stares. "What?"
"And you'll tell me if I'm doing it right," Nick finishes, looking pleased with himself. He's still leaning Joe against the door, one arm across Joe's chest pinning him to the door.
Joe shifts, opens his mouth and closes it again. "Nick... I'm not a girl," he says slowly.
Nick smirks and widens his eyes. "No. You're not." He steps back, dropping his arm. "Take off your pants, Joe."
Joe stares again and then his whole body jerks with surprise when he gets it. "Are you fucking insane, Nick? We- we can't do that!"
"We can do anything we want," Nick hisses, gesturing around at the room. He pushes forward again, kissing Joe, licking into his heated mouth, running his fingers into Joe's hair. It's overwhelming and intoxicating and wrong, and it's everything Joe wants now. "Let me, Joe. I know you want it. Just let me touch you."
Joe lets him.