Fic: Booty and the Best, Part 2 (Joe/Nick, NC-17, WIP)
Part One
After the second week they spend locked away in the beatlab, Joe gets restless. Whenever they're not in the gym together, they've been squirreled away in the studio, working. It’s not that he doesn’t love writing music with Nick - on the contrary, it’s one of his favorite things, and they never come up with better stuff when they work separately. And he’s even gotten Nick to put aside his endless repetition of blues to come up with a few light-hearted pop songs that are perfect for some future Jonas Brothers album, which, even though they don’t specifically have one planned, gives Joe a warm feeling in his stomach when he thinks about going out on tour together again, hitting the stage with his brothers, traveling with his best friends, bunking up with Nick. And Ashley, too, of course.
He knows Ashley and Nick are going to love each other once they get over the current situation. He grins when he thinks about it - the three of them sharing giddy late night talks in the bus bunks, sleepy mornings eating room service in hotel beds.
Unless of course Nick gets a girlfriend by then. Which would be weird, but also probably really good for Nick.
"So I was thinking we’d go out tonight," Joe says casually. Nick’s hunched over his laptop, editing, and he looks up, surprised. "You know, like, with other people."
Nick frowns, but catches himself, tries to school his expression to at least appear more amenable to the idea. It was one of Joe’s conditions, after all, that they be more social.
"Uh, yeah. I think maybe the Kings are at home tonight. We could catch a game?"
It’s not exactly what Joe had been planning. "It’s not that I don’t want to catch a baseball game with you," he starts, gently although Nick cuts him off right away to let him know that the Kings are the ice hockey team (which, really, who knew there was an ice hockey team in Los Angeles?) and that baseball isn’t even in season. Joe doesn’t let those details deter him. "The point is, I was thinking we could go someplace we might, I don’t know, meet girls? Specifically a girl that you might like to take out on a date?"
Nick slumps forward a little. "There are girls at hockey games," he says unconvincingly.
"Girls with mullets," Joe adds, trying to make jokes to coax Nick's elusive smile. "And those caps that hold two beers with straws that run down to their faces."
Nick hunches his shoulders up like he’s shrinking in on himself. "We can’t all date centerfold movie-stars," he says, sulking, but Joe doesn’t buy it for a minute.
"Yeah, all of your past girlfriends have been real dogs," Joe says, mock-sympathizing. "Poor you."
"I’m just saying," Nick argues, "looks are not the most important thing in a relationship. True compatibility comes from shared beliefs and mutual respect and-"
"-physical attraction," Joe says, ticking it off on his fingers.
Nick falters for a moment, then ducks his head and says, “Yeah, that too.”
"And if you’ll just agree to go with me to some non-sports event I’ll pretend this isn’t the six-hundredth time you’ve implied that the most important relationship of my life is completely baseless and shallow. How does that sound?"
Nick seems to deflate at that, and even though he fully deserves to be chastised for his constant passive-aggressive comments about Ashley, Joe takes pity on him. He’s been trying so hard to do everything that Joe says, including saying please and thank you to Garbo and Big Rob whenever they cater to his ridiculous whims. His whims haven’t gotten any less ridiculous, but at least if Nick’s going to be a diva he might as well try to be a polite one.
"Alright," Joe concedes. "We can try to beat the odds and find a hot girl with whom you have mutual respect and shared beliefs at a hockey game. I suppose if you’re going to find a girl you actually like, she’s going to have to be a sports fan anyway."
Nick smiles then, looking up at Joe. "Not necessarily," he mumbles, like he’s amusing himself with the thought.
Joe doesn’t get it, but he likes the way Nick’s face brightens into a smile, so he goes with it. "No? So what, you’re into girly-girls now?" He pokes at Nick’s face, wiggling a fingertip into Nick's ear. Nick snorts at that, bats his hand away. "Hmm? A nice princess-y girly-girl for Nick? One that takes hours to get dressed and doesn’t know the difference between a touchdown and a triple?"
He pushes into Nick’s space and tickles him until he squawks, wiggling away amidst peals of laughter. "Tell me the difference between a touchdown and a triple," Nick breathes out, giggling.
Joe pulls back, indignant. "One happens in football and one happens in baseball," he says. "Duh."
Nick cocks an eyebrow, looking impressed. "Yeah, okay, but which is which?"
Joe pauses for a moment, grinning, then dives back in for another round of tickles. "You shut up," he says. "I know it when I see it, okay?"
Nick laughs loudly at that, so Joe pounces on him, pushing him out of his chair and onto the ground, where he can tickle him until Nick goes weak with giggles. "Say ‘uncle’," Joe threatens, digging his fingers into Nick’s armpits. Nick shakes his head, gasping for breath as he bucks and squirms under Joe.
* * *
They end up going to the hockey game and not meeting any girls. On the other hand, Joe does learn more than he ever thought he might need to know about hockey.
"I can’t believe they’re allowed to just punch each other like that!"
Nick grins at him, shaking his head as they head to the parking lot after the game. "Who’s gonna stop them?"
It’s a good point. Those referees were half the size of the players, and they didn’t have nearly as much protective gear on.
"Yeah, but they should, like, get in trouble. You know? You can’t just beat up on people like that in a public setting. It’s barbaric."
Nick laughs. "Oh, sure. I bet when they get back to the locker room the coach scolds them for their poor manners."
Joe pretends to pout as Nick unlocks the passenger-side door of the Mustang and holds it open for him. "He should," he says mulishly, then leans over and unlocks Nick’s door from the inside.
Nick watches him through the driver’s-side window with a soft expression on his face, lips quirked in a goofy smile and Joe feels overwhelmingly content.
On the drive home, Nick tugs at Joe's hand, laces their fingers together like they did when they were kids, when Nick was small and he needed to hang on to Joe to make sure everything was okay. Joe feels his own face flush warm, but he doesn’t say anything about it, just keeps alternating between mindless chatter and humming along with the stereo. Nick nods in all the appropriate places, fond smile on his face the whole way.
They pull into the garage and Nick kills the engine, still holding Joe’s hand. He’s looking down at where their fingers are entwined; thumb rubbing slow circles into Joe’s knuckles. It’s quiet, even with the sound of Nick’s iPod playing on the car stereo and the ticking of the engine as it cools down, so Joe clears his throat and says, "So tonight was-"
“Good, right?” Nick sounds tentative, almost shy, and it makes Joe’s breath catch. Nick’s looking up at him, expectant.
“Mmm-hmm,” Joe agrees, even though what he’d actually been about to say was that tonight had been a bust in the girl-finding department. Still, what Nick said was true. It’s always good to hang out with Nick, especially when it’s just the two of them alone and Nick is happy.
“Yeah,” Nick says, looking out the window even though there’s nothing to see but the wall of the garage. He doesn’t let go of Joe’s hand. “It’s always good with us,” he says, repeating Joe’s thought exactly.
“The best,” Joe grins. He loves how connected they are to each other. It’s like having a twin, only without the creepy part where someone else is wearing your face. Not like Joe doesn’t have a good face, but he’d rather look at Nick’s, given the choice.
He takes a minute and does look. Nick’s smiling tightly, like he’s fighting the urge. His skin is amazingly soft-looking, with these downy-fine hairs high up on his jaw. His hair is a mess, too-long curls falling softly around his face. His curls are fascinating, and Joe zones out for a moment marveling at the fact that these hairs grow out of Nick’s head and then decide to change direction for no apparent reason, when it would probably be easier to just grow straight. Everything about Nick is contrary.
“Yeah?” Nick says, turning towards him, eyes soft. “The best?”
Joe grins and leans forward, meaning to ruffle Nick’s hair but instead just clutching at his curls and tugging him close. “Why do you have to be so competitive? It’s not a contest,” he says quietly.
Nick chuckles. “Not a contest because I’m clearly the best, though. Right?”
“Clearly,” Joe murmurs, then leans in just that tiny bit further so he can press his mouth against Nick’s.
He doesn’t think it through before he does it, doesn’t mean for it to turn into anything crazy, but before he knows it, Nick’s pulling him across the gear shift into a happy, fumbly kiss.
"Mmmph," Joe’s surprised, but quickly succumbs to Nick’s enthusiasm; Nick's sweet, soft mouth pressing and sucking against his own. It’s clumsy but still shockingly hot, the way Nick just takes his mouth again and again, demanding in a way he hasn’t been before. He’s got a hand twisted in the short hair at the base of Joe’s head, tugging Joe closer and closer, kissing Joe like he owns him, like it's his due.
Something must have changed, some tacit permission given, because this is a far cry from the half-asleep cuddle-kissing they've gotten up to before. Nick isn't looking for comfort. He's on fire, chasing what feels good and pushing for more, more, more.
Joe is helpless to it, kissing Nick back fervently, giving as good as he is getting, until jab of the stick shift into his ribs becomes too painful to ignore. "Mmmwouch, dude," he says, shifting away reluctantly. "Not that I don’t wanna-"
Before he can finish Nick is growling and clambering up over the center console and onto Joe’s lap. He shoves Joe back against the seat rest and reaches down on the side, yanks the lever so Joe’s seat reclines until it hits the back seat. They thump backwards abruptly, Nick shoving down on him hard.
"Oh," Joe says faintly as Nick covers Joe with his body, sucking bruises into his neck. "That works."
Nick is relentless and rough with him, grinding their hips together and kissing Joe like there’s something he’s leading up to. He’s everywhere at once, fingers, lips, tongue a crazy barrage of Nick all over him, making him dizzy with want. When Nick tucks his fingers into the back of Joe’s jeans, wiggling them down and then grabbing, Joe moans out loud, can’t hold it in.
He's never been kissed like this, by anyone, let alone even thought it possible that Nick would have it in him, but then jumbled thoughts flicker in and out of his brain about Nick being so isolated and so horny, sad because he's so alone but tempting because he's so perfectly ripe, full to the brim and ready to burst.
Nick’s iPod changes tunes and all Joe can think is, I’m going to get fucked by my brother while listening to The Climb.
Just thinking it makes Joe suck in a fast breath, makes him panic like he's going to shoot off, right there in his jeans. Because Nick is moving against him just like that, like sex, and now Joe can't stop thinking about it, wondering what it would be like-
"Nick," he breathes out. "Nick, wait."
Nick thumps up against him, hard, as if to shut him up, but Joe whines and tugs on Nick’s hair, pulling him off for a second, just a second, so he can catch his breath.
Nick is panting above him, eyes dark and wild, cheeks pink and splotchy and his curls are everywhere. He’s holding himself over Joe, shirt untucked and jeans tenting out obscenely and for a moment, Joe just wants to give in, just wants to lay there and spread his legs open and let Nick take him, fuck into him like he should be doing to some sweet, normal girl who's not- not a sibling. But Nick's watching him intently, like he needs some reassurance from Joe that this is okay, and Joe struggles with his choices.
He knows Nick is only like this with him because he’s there, and because Nick feels so comfortable with him. It’s tempting to just take it, revel in it, but he loves his brother and he knows Nick should be doing stuff like this with a good little girlfriend, one who can stroke his hair back and shush and soothe him as he bucks and whines and slicks her up with his cream.
"It's late," Joe says, breathless as he nuzzles into the side of Nick’s hot face. He wants Nick so badly, but he loves him even more than that, so he tries to do the right thing.
Nick presses down against him, rutting shallowly into Joe’s hip. "Want you- in my bed. So much," Nick rumbles. Joe’s eyes flutter shut as the thought tickles his gut, makes his whole body ache.
He wants to rub up against Nick, wants to whisper to Nick to keep talking, but he swallows it back.
“Want it so bad,” Nick groans. “And I can feel you-”
"Nick," he groans, mostly in protest, but at least partially because it's the only thing he can remember to say when Nick is sliding against him like that.
Nick huffs out a breath, frustrated. He lets his head drop down to Joe's chest and he lays there for a moment, quiet as his dick throbs against Joe’s leg. "Come to bed with me. Just to sleep," he whispers eventually. "Please."
* * *
Joe changes in his own room, giving Nick some time to take care of himself. He wonders how long he should wait, when there's a buzz on his phone.
r u coming?
He huffs out a breath and shakes his head. When he gets to Nick's room he finds his brother already lying on the bed, frowning at his phone. He's wearing a tight white undershirt and some low-slung sleep pants that blatantly display both the cut of his lean hips and the bulge of his still-hard dick. His feet are bare, toes curling in the blankets.
"Oh, hey," Joe says, voice caught in his throat.
Nick looks over at him, eyes dark. His cheeks flush splotchy and pink, and he drops one hand down in between his legs, covering himself. "Sorry," Nick says, looking miserable. “I know I- I know I shouldn’t-”
His earlier bravado is gone all of a sudden, and for some reason it makes Joe feel more at ease to know that Nick's freaking out about this, too.
"Hey, hey, it's-" He wants to say it's okay, but he's not sure it is. He wants Nick to feel good, wants to take care of his baby brother, but he knows how important it is for Nick to follow the rules he's set for himself. Joe's not sure if there are rules for fooling around with your brother.
Nick turns over, back to Joe, and sighs. "You can go sleep in your own room if you want," he says, voice muffled by his pillow.
Joe slips in behind him, curling his arms around Nick's chest and waist. "I know," he murmurs. The truth there surprises him. He doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want, including staying here with Nick. And yet here he is. Wanting to.
When he slides his hands down Nick's stomach, teases at the lip of his belly-button, Nick sucks in a quiet gasp. Joe shushes him and slips his sleep pants down. "Don’t feel bad about this. It’s natural. You just need to take care of yourself, bro." Joe takes Nick's hand and curls it around Nick’s erection like he needs to be shown how. “When was the last time you-?”
Nick buries his face in the pillow and whimpers. Joe strokes the back of his neck, kisses him at the top of his spine, on his shoulder. He keeps his hand on top of Nick’s for a second, then slides it up, doesn't allow himself to feel the weight and heat of Nick's hard cock for himself. He just rubs at Nick's arm, nuzzles his skin, and murmurs encouragement.
Nick's breath hitches and shudders. After a few moments, Joe feels Nick's shoulder start to move, feels his skin get impossibly hotter.
Nick strokes himself off tight and quick, like a punishment. Joe swallows down the urge to interfere, to show Nick how to do it slow and gentle. The end game is the same. Nick just needs the release.
He sweats as he gets close, curls going damp. "That's it," Joe says, mouthing at the muscle of Nick's shoulder. "Get there."
Nick slips his free hand up, up into Joe's hair, tugs on it, pulls Joe closer still. He whines like he's upset, a choked-off, halting noise. Joe bites down on his baby brother, knows Nick can feel how he’s all boned up against Nick's back, the curve of his round little butt. He can't help rutting against Nick there, just a few shoves against Nick's firm backside. Nick opens his legs a little, and Joe pushes a thigh between them, letting Nick ride him. "Uhhnnn," Nick moans then spasms full-body, a few jolts and panting breaths and he's coming.
Joe wants to feel him, feel the load Nick's shot off, but he holds himself back, reminds himself this is for Nick. Nick is breathing hard and trembling in his arms though, and Joe can't resist him. He hooks a leg over Nick's hip and cuddles him tighter, whispering to Nick what a good boy he is, how proud Joe is of him.
Tomorrow, Joe decides, tomorrow he’ll get serious about finding a girl for Nick.
* * *
They go out a few more times, but it always ends the same way. Joe knows they're supposed to be looking for girls for Nick, but he keeps getting distracted by, well, Nick. And somehow they always end up coming home all riled up, hands and mouths aching to touch each other, falling into Nick's bed to kiss and kiss and kiss until their lips are swollen and numb, and Joe has to sneak away to the bathroom to jerk off, although Nick keeps telling him to stay. Tempting him. Confusing him.
Joe's nearly run out of ideas for finding Nick's perfect little girlfriend, so he's mostly relieved when she manages to find Nick all on her own.
She's pretty, brunette with deep dimples and a voice like an angel. Her name is Samantha, and she's from the UK but somehow connected with the whole Disney thing. Phil of all people brings her over to the beatlab to lay down a few tracks for her American demo.
Her eyes sparkle when she talks to Nick, bright white smile flashing at him as she giggles at something mostly unfunny that he's said. When she takes off her jacket in the studio she's wearing a white, fitted tank underneath, and she's got a rack like whoa. Nick appears to be puzzled for the whole six hours she's with them, torn between his default setting of grumpy control-freak and being charmed by her... everything.
"Thank you so much, you guys. This was completely brilliant," she gushes. They've laid down eight tracks and even Joe is impressed at how good it all sounds. "I can't believe how lucky I am."
Nick frowns at her. "Not lucky," he says. "You're really great." He blushes, clears his throat and says, "I mean, talented."
She beams at him, and Joe feels a little sick to his stomach. "Well you must bring it out in me," she says and, oh my God, legit pokes Nick in the nose with her finger and giggles.
Nick rears back, surprised, but then laughs, short and helpless. "Uh, okay," Nick says, stammering a bit. "Yeah, well. Anytime."
Samantha knows an opportunity when she sees one. She pulls a pen out of her bag and grabs Nick's wrist, writes her number down. "Call me, then," she says with a wink. Nick watches her, mouth agape, and then smiles crookedly, forgetting to cover his teeth. He still looks somewhat baffled.
She kisses him on both cheeks, waves at Joe, and walks out, leaving a faint floral smell in her wake.
Joe stares after her, impressed at how efficiently this girl has become a feasible option for Nick. She's not from here, so she hasn't already dated everyone in their circle. She's connected to them, so she's not an unknown entity. She's sweet, Christian, musical and stacked. She's perfect for Nick. And by the way Nick is resolutely not making eye contact, Joe bets Nick knows it.
"So, she was..." Joe trails off, gauging Nick's reaction.
"Hmm?"
"...nice."
Nick looks up for a moment, confused. "Huh? Oh, yeah. She was nice."
Joe cocks an eyebrow. "And hot."
Nick doesn't answer, just starts packing up some of the equipment that they'd used. Joe tries to be patient, tries to let Nick take his time processing the fact that a perfectly viable, perfectly attractive girl just hit on him. Nick appears not to have noticed.
"Nick?"
"Yeah?"
Joe wiggles his hand in an encouraging motion. Nick frowns.
"What?"
Sighing, Joe repeats himself. "She's hot. And nice. Call me crazy, but did I detect some shared beliefs? I definitely caught you guys mutually respecting each other."
"Uh, yeah. I guess." Nick sounds nonchalant, distracted, but his cheeks pink up a little.
"She digs you," Joe says, pushing.
Nick blushes redder, grumbles a little as he busies himself with shuffling papers.
"What was that?"
Nick straightens up, shoulders tense, and says, loudly, "Why do you think she 'digs me'?" He uses finger quotes, like being a complete douche is going to disguise his puppy-crush.
Joe smiles. "Well, for one thing, when you asked her out to dinner, she said, 'Thought you would never ask! Love to!'" He pitches his voice in a high falsetto, mimicking a girl's voice.
Nick looks bewildered. "I didn't ask her to dinner," he says slowly.
Joe holds up Nick's phone, tossing it over to his brother, screen open to the text he's got going on with Samantha. "Actually, bro," he says with a grin, "You totally did."
* * *
Nick definitely likes her, although he denies it like Joe's accused him of burning the flag. He scoffs and rolls his eyes whenever Joe mentions Samantha, but he's a complete idiot for the few days leading up to his date with her, snapping at Joe left and right and spending long quiet hours in his room, staring at his closet.
"That's it," Joe says on Thursday morning. "I'm taking you shopping."
"Not now," Nick grouses. "I'm busy."
Joe sits next to him. "Uh, yup. I can see how busy you are staring at your lame wardrobe. You need some new duds, dude. We need to spiff you up a little. Let that inner beauty out."
"I've got plenty of clothes. I don't need new ones."
Joe looks dubious. "You've got plenty of clothes," he agrees. "But, you know, you've been hitting the weights pretty hard lately. We could probably find you some new clothes that show off your-" The word body dies on his tongue, because whoa, it's weird to talk to your little brother about how hot his body is, isn't it? He already practically gushed to Nick about his muscles several times in the gym. Even if he can't stop thinking about Nick like that, he has to stop talking to Nick about it. Instead he smooths one hand down Nick's back, feeling at his shoulders and lats, compact and firm and crap. Groping him is definitely weirder. And harder to stop doing.
He feels Nick stiffen under him, and feels like an idiot for a moment, until he realizes that Nick is flexing for him. He laughs, surprised. "Yeah, there you go," he says. "You gotta be hunting elephants with guns like those."
Nick looks at him strangely, then bursts out laughing. "What does that even mean?"
Joe beams back at him, pleased. "It means grab your wallet and put some shoes on, Hulk."
* * *
"These are too small, Joe."
Joe doesn't even glance up from the pile of shirts and sweaters he's sorting through. "No they're not. Try them on."
Nick balks, but Joe hears the rustle of denim as Nick pulls the jeans on.
"They don't even- can you bring me the next size up?"
"Can I bring you the next size up, what?" Joe answers sweetly.
Nick is quiet for a second, and Joe can picture the face he's making perfectly, even though Nick is hidden behind the dressing room curtain.
"Can you bring me the next size up, please?"
"Since you asked so nicely, sure," Joe answers. "Just let me see how those fit first."
The curtain yanks open just enough for Nick to shove his angry face through. "These don't fit. At all." When Joe just keeps looking at him, expectant, Nick huffs and pulls the curtain back, glancing around furtively in case anyone might be scandalized that he's actually trying on clothes in the dressing room of a clothing store. "Look," he hisses, "I can barely get them up. Just bring me the next size, okay?"
Joe checks him out - it's impossible not to. Nick is shirtless with one arm covering his chest like a girl and the jeans are bunched up at the top of his thighs. It's too tempting not to grab at the meat of Nick's round little ass as he tries to wiggle into the pants, even though Joe can tell he's only half-heartedly trying to get them on. Nick predictably squawks in protest.
"You're so cute," Joe teases.
"I'm not cute," Nick growls. "As much fun as you might think this is, I am not some little doll for you to play dress-up with."
"Don't worry," Joe says. "I didn't bring any dresses in here for you. The sailor boy outfit is probably the worst-"
Nick glares at him so intensely that Joe has to laugh a little nervously.
"Nick, obviously I'm kidding. Just trust me, okay?"
Nick slumps, letting his hands drop to his sides. "I- fine. You know I do. But there's not enough trust in the world to get these jeans to fit."
"Aw, they fit," Joe says. "You're just doing it wrong." He shuffles into Nick's space, grabbing the jeans and tugging them up over Nick's thighs. Nick squirms as the tight denim catches against his balls, jostling his junk as Joe yanks at him. "You just hike and tuck," he says, reaching down and smoothing his hand over Nick's dick, tucking him in.
He does it casually, like it's no big deal, like he's spitting on a thumb and wiping dirt from Nick's face, but once he gets his palm on Nick's soft, warm dick, he somehow can't bring himself to let go. "Just tuck it in," he murmurs, patting at Nick gently, cradling him. "Just like that."
"Joe," Nick breathes out, barely a whisper. He's staring at Joe in the mirror, eyes wide and glassy. There's a flush staining his cheeks, creeping down his neck and chest. He'd been gripping Joe's forearm, but now he slides his hand down, down to cover the one Joe's got shoved in his pants. Nick holds his hand there, presses, pushing Joe against him as he tilts his own hips up ever so slightly. The jeans are fitted, so Joe doesn't have a lot of room to wiggle around, but he can curl his fingers around Nick just enough to feel how he's starting to thicken up, filling out nice and slow.
"Nick," Joe says, voice low. He means it as a gentle reprimand, because he knows Nick holds out on himself, like even getting himself off is a sin. As a result, Nick is on a hair-trigger all the time, even the slightest contact making him bone up like a kid. Joe squeezes and feels Nick getting bigger, right there against his palm. "What did I tell you? You need to get off more."
Nick groans, lets his head loll back against Joe's shoulder, eyes hooded and thin with heat but locked on their reflection in the mirror. "S-shut up," he breathes out, but makes no effort to move away or push Joe off of him.
"Man," Joe sighs as Nick shifts back against him, little shoves of his hips pushing his dick into Joe's grip. "Do you see what you look like? Look at yourself," he nudges Nick's face with his own. Nick looks so amazing, so beautiful and also so- so dirty with his hard dick stuffed in tight denim. Joe needs to touch more, needs to feel him, warm and thick in his hand. He slides his hand up, struggling to pull it out from under the pressure of Nick's hand.
"D-don't stop," Nick croaks, pressing Joe's hand against him harder. "Please."
"Ssshh," he soothes and tucks his fingertips under the elastic of Nick's briefs, tugging them down enough that he can pull Nick out, get a good grip on him. "I got you."
Nick feels so hot in his hand, thick and smooth and really, really hard. Just holding him makes Joe's whole body start to sweat, but he wants this. Nick is so backed up, so ready to burst all the time and he's clearly not taking care of it enough on his own. Joe wants to do this for him, make Nick feel really good, pretty much all the time, but especially right now, right here. Just looking at Nick's pebbled nipples, his flushed cheeks, mouth and cock, all of it is making Joe want to get him off even more.
He shuffles up closer to Nick, whispers softly to keep quiet in his ear then strokes him off like that, right there in the dressing room. He watches Nick raptly in the mirror, sees the way his face crumples with pleasure, the way his stomach clenches with every tug on his fat little cock.
Joe takes it slow on him, remembering the quick, punishing way Nick had stroked himself off in bed. He wants to show Nick how good it can be, how much better it feels when you take your time, draw it out. He holds Nick with a loose fist, letting each finger rub at the hot skin of Nick's dick. Still, Nick goes wet right away, slicking up Joe's palm so that Joe inadvertently speeds up, slippery glide of jizz easing his strokes.
"Are you always this wet," Joe asks hoarsely when Nick blurts more clear, shiny precome over his fist. He dips his pointer finger in it, spreads it around the tip gingerly. He marvels when Nick twitches, dick flexing like it's seeking out the pressure of Joe's hand again.
Nick turns his head, burying his face against Joe's neck, tilting up his mouth like he's seeking out a kiss. Joe can't- he can't kiss Nick and jack him off and watch all at the same time, so he focuses on the most important task, checks his grip and adds in a slick twist at the top of every stroke, wringing more fluid out each time.
"Yeah, you are. That's good," Joe coaxes, voice shaking in time with his arm. "That's so good, Nick."
"Oh, oh, Joe," Nick says, sounding strained. "Close." He wraps his hand around Joe's, not directing him, just holding on.
Joe speeds up, working him over good. "You're gonna make a big mess, aren't you? Gonna blow all over the place, right?"
"Joe," Nick hisses, sounding frantic.
"I got you. I got you," Joe says again, shushing Nick and slowing his strokes long enough to grab the undershirt Nick had discarded. He wraps the soft fabric around the head of Nick's dick, catches all of the slick wetness and speeds up the flicks of his wrist until Nick is reaching back, grabbing at his hair and tugging hard. He feels it when Nick starts to shoot off, soaking the t-shirt and yanking on Joe's hair, whimpering these small little noises like uhnn uhnn uhnn.
"Attaboy," Joe says, as Nick creams up the shirt, stomach heaving with the intensity of his come.
He watches greedily as Nick shudders through the aftershocks, keeping his hand wrapped protectively around his brother's dick as it pulses weakly until Nick's lying limp against him, all comed-out and loose. Joe wipes at his tender dick, still flushed pink and swollen, and unfurls the soggy t-shirt so he can see just how big of a load Nick shot off for him.
"That was a good one," he says, impressed. Nick nods dazedly, still facing the mirror. Joe takes a good, long look at his brother and says, "Those jeans look really, really good on you."
Nick chokes on a laugh, surprising them both.
"I'm serious," Joe insists. "I have an eye for these things." He nudges Nick with his shoulder. "C'mon, admit it. You look awesome in those jeans that I picked out. Admit I was right, that's all I'm asking."
"Joe," Nick says, chuckling lazily. "I can't, like- Don't expect me to have a conversation with you right now."
Joe grins, smug. He likes Nick like this. Fucked stupid and happy.
They end up buying four pairs of the jeans in various washes and a new shirt that Nick loves so much he insists on wearing it right out of the store.
* * *
Saturday can't come soon enough. Nick's taken to wearing his new, tight jeans around the house with some of the deep v-necked Henleys he'd picked up, ones that show off the bulge of his biceps and the curve of his collarbone perfectly. Every time he comes into the beatlab to write, or into the kitchen to grab some iced tea, Joe wants to push him up against the wall and beat him off again.
Sure, he'd wanted Nick to look good and all, to make a good impression on Samantha, but it's sort of backfired. Now Nick looks positively biteable all the time and Joe can barely concentrate on the things he's supposed to take care of for the wedding.
So when Nick comes in to Joe's room and says, "I'm, uh, gonna go now," Joe sighs with relief.
"You look great," Joe says honestly. Nick's wearing the black jeans tonight, paired with a white belt and a fitted black button-down. Everything fits him impeccably, like the clothes had been sewn onto his body. "Have a great time."
Nick shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking awkward. "Right, well. Thanks," he says, "for making the reservations and everything. You didn't have to-"
"You're welcome," Joe says. "Which car are you taking?"
"The Benz," Nick says. "Right?"
"Definitely," Joe agrees. He feels like he should give Nick a hug or something, like he's sending him off to college, but it's not really like that. It's not like Nick's never gone out with a girl before. He's a rock star. And he's Joe's brother. Wanting to hold on to Nick forever is a silly, selfish thought. "Go get her," he says, giving Nick a little fist pump.
Nick turns to leave, but stops short, turning back. "What are you going to do?"
"Hmm?"
"Tonight," Nick clarifies. "Are you gonna do anything?"
"Nick," Joe says firmly. "Do not worry about me. I've got plenty to do, wedding stuff and-"
"Are you going to see her?"
Joe gapes at him. "Am I-? Ashley? I thought- Aren't I not supposed to see her?"
Nick toes at the ground with his crisp white sneaker. "Yeah, well. I mean. If you really wanted to, maybe-"
Weirdly enough, Joe doesn't really want to. "It's cool," he says, waving Nick away. "I was going to work on my vows. I could use the quiet time. And I think she's working now anyway."
It surprises him when he realizes he has no idea what she's doing. He hasn't thought about her in a while. He feels guilty at how not-guilty he feels about it.
Nick blows out a breath, looking relieved and kind of guilty as well. "There's leftover Thai food in the fridge," he says, gesturing vaguely towards the kitchen.
"Go," Joe says. "I'll be fine."
"'Kay," Nick says. "I'm going."
Joe smiles. "Go then."
Nick chuckles and waves his keys over his shoulder, shutting the door behind him.
Joe spends the next seven hours staring at a blank screen on his laptop, wondering what Nick and Samantha are doing.
He's half-asleep when he hears hushed whispers in the hallway. Muted laughter. He strains to listen, tries to make out who's talking, what they're saying, but it's all too low. Soon it's quiet again, and Joe starts imagining these crazy scenarios of what could be going on. He's sure Nick's brought Sam back with him. Probably was just giving her some awkward tour of the place and she just pounced on him, pushing him against the wall and kissing him eagerly.
Nick would be surprised, surely, but he's been so hard-up for it, all tightly-wound and hyper-responsive that his body would just short-circuit his brain and he'd go belly up for her right away. Plus, she's a cute girl; even Joe would have a hard time denying her. He figures she pressed her hot little body right up against Nick's, letting him feel her soft curves and whispering something about how she'd been wanting to kiss him all night. So Nick probably kissed her back, kissed her well and good like Joe knows he can, and she probably pulled his face down, asked him where his bedroom was, and that was it.
He pads towards the hall, just to check. He figures he'll make up something about needing a drink of water or something if they're out there, no big deal, but somehow his heart is still pounding in his chest when he pushes his bedroom door open.
There's nobody out there. Nick's bedroom door is closed and there's no light shining from underneath the door. Joe creeps over, leans close to the door and listens, but he can't hear anything, and also he feels like a total creep.
When he gets back into his own bed he can't tell if the tight feeling in his gut is relief or disappointment.
Joe can't sleep that night. It's not until the sun starts to come up that he realizes it's the first time in weeks he hasn't fallen asleep in the same bed as Nick.
* * *
Joe gets up early and goes for a long run, hoping to tire himself out. It's possible that Nick's going to see Sam again tonight, and even if he's not, Joe needs to be able to fall asleep without him anyway. He runs until his calves ache, until his vision starts to blur. He slows to a walk then, starts to head back.
Nick's door had been closed this morning, no noise coming from inside. Not that Joe had been creeping around checking it out. No sir.
When he gets home, Nick's sitting on the doorstep, freshly showered. Joe squints at him as he gets closer and Nick gets to his feet, searching the skin around his neck and collar for bite marks.
"Hey," Joe pants, peering at his brother in the sun. "Good night last night?"
Nick talks right over him, ignoring his question. "Dude," he says sounding exasperated. "We need to be at the tux place in fifteen minutes. Where have you been?"
Joe looks down at himself then back up at Nick. "Church," he says. "Where do you think?"
Nick frowns at him and then taps his watch pointedly. "Shower. Fast."
"Yes, sir," Joe says with a salute, heading in to the house. "So did you get any?" he says as Nick follows him inside.
"Did I get any what?"
Joe shakes his head. "Smartass," he says, although he's pretty sure Nick just realized what he'd been asking.
"Perv," Nick shoots back, blushing.
Joe lets it go because Nick has a point.
They get fitted one at a time, Joe first, to make sure he likes the style. He chooses a Paul Smith notch-collar tux, classic but just a little funky. The tailor nips and tucks everything in place, and Joe's pretty satisfied with the way it looks. He steps out of the curtained area to show Nick.
"Check it out," he starts, but trails off when he finds Nick fumbling with the buttons on his own shirt. All of a sudden Joe is remembering the night of Kevin's wedding, when they'd helped each other tie their bowties and fasten their cufflinks. Nick looks so young and Joe is unexpectedly speechless, throat closed with sharp affection.
Nick looks up, startled. He stares for a moment, mouth slack as he takes Joe in, gives him a good once over. He smiles eventually, gives Joe two thumbs up. "You look great," he says, voice cracking a little.
Joe swallows hard and nods. Sure. Great.
He remembers feeling like it was the two of them against the world, like even though it was Kev's big day, he and Nick were having a shared experience while Kevin was doing his own thing. It's not going to be the same at Joe's wedding. He'll be alone. Nick will be alone.
The tailor takes a few more measurements. Joe tries on two different shirts and three different pairs of shoes. The bow tie starts to feel like it's choking him, but Joe stays quiet. He can feel Nick's eyes on him, so he tries to smile a lot. He keeps forgetting though.
By the time it's Nick's turn to get fitted, Joe is feeling sick to his stomach. He's sure it's common, typical cold feet, but the wedding seems abruptly soon; he doesn't feel ready. And when he sees Nick, so handsome in the perfectly tailored tuxedo, his eyes start to tear up.
Nick takes one look at his face and falters. "Joe? What's wrong?"
Joe blinks at him, eyes stinging. Everything, he thinks.
"You don't like it?"
Joe hangs his head, wipes at his eyes. He takes a shuddery breath and gives himself a moment to pull it together.
"I freaking love it," he finally says. "Love it so much it- it hurts." He pats a hand over his chest to show Nick where. "You know what I mean?"
Nick gives the tailor a tight smile and nod, sending him away. As soon as they're alone, he pushes Joe behind the curtain and kisses him fervently.
Joe smiles against Nick's mouth, but lets Nick kiss him breathless just the same.
"Don't do this," Nick sighs into Joe's ear, clutching at his waist a little frantically. "Please. Just, just don't do it."
Joe looks up at the ceiling, rests his head against the mirror and blows out a steadying breath. He pets at Nick's hair, smoothing his curls back and trying to calm his distressed baby brother.
"Look," he says eventually. "When it's your wedding, you can wear Gucci, okay? This is my wedding though, so you're going to have to deal with my choice of hipster tuxedos."
Nick chokes out a laugh against Joe's neck, but it sounds more like a sob. Luckily, Nick's phone buzzes between them at just that moment. Joe sees Sam's name on the screen just as Nick answers it, stepping away. Saved by the bell, as it were.
Nick smiles into the phone as he talks. Joe watches him as he undresses, changes back into his street clothes. Nick is pacing around the room, touching at his hair as he laughs at some story she's telling him. When he catches Joe's eye, Joe gives him an encouraging signal. Ask her, he mouths.
Nick pales, then nods, says into the phone, "Hey, so I wanted to ask you something. You know how my brother is getting married, right?" He makes a vague gesture towards the entrance of the store and Joe nods, shooing him out.
After Joe settles up with the tailor, he heads out to the car. He finds Nick pacing the sidewalk, still grinning into his phone and nodding his head, like she can see him. "Yeah, that's perfect," Nick says. "I'll call you then."
Joe tries not to listen to them saying goodbye. Sam's a great girl and she's good for Nick. He thinks about the way Nick had kissed him, all soft lips and desperate hands and yeah. Nick needs someone to kiss like that when Joe's not around. Nick deserves something good, someone good for him.
So why does Joe suddenly feel so awful about it?
* * *
"I don’t even," Nick breaks off, annoyed. "How am I even supposed to act with her? I mean, are there rules for formal settings? How is this different from a regular date?"
Joe smiles indulgently. "Just be yourself," he says. "She already likes you."
Nick is pacing back and forth in the studio, nervously twirling his fingers in his curls. "But, like, okay. The other night, I opened the door for her, right? And she looked at me like I had two heads." He pauses and looks at Joe, confused. "Aren’t guys supposed to open the door for girls?"
"Yes," Joe says. "But not all guys are as awesome as you are. She’s probably used to dating jerks."
Nick boggles a little, then goes back to pacing the room and tugging on his hair. "Maybe she likes jerks. Maybe I should be more jerky."
Joe raises one eyebrow and tilts his head. "I'm not sure that's possible. And anyway, I thought you didn’t like her like that?"
Nick stops and opens his mouth, says nothing. Joe waggles his eyebrows knowingly. "I don’t," Nick finally says, stubborn as an ass. "But I want her to like me."
Of course Nick is over-thinking the whole thing. It’s downright adorable, but Joe is one hundred percent clear that is a thought that should never be voiced. "She’s going to love you, Nick. She said yes, didn't she? When she sees you all decked out in your suit, looking all fine," he winks exaggeratedly, "she’s gonna go down, hard."
Nick bites his lip and frowns, then cocks his head in a little half-shrug, like he figures Joe is right. "But, it’s so complicated," he frowns, and plops down into his chair with a huff. "I’m supposed to compliment her on her dress, but not her make-up, right? And do I tell her I like her perfume or is perfume something I’m supposed to notice but not comment on? Where’s the line between being a good date and coming across as sort of-"
Joe looks at Nick's screwed up face and volunteers, "-desperate and over-invested?"
"Ugh," Nick says, covering his face with his hands. "Yes."
"Hmmm," Joe muses, because while he knows Nick will absolutely sweep Samantha off her feet, it is a subtle line between being attentive and going overboard. And knowing Nick, he’s more likely to ignore her completely, rather than overdo it.
"I know," Joe says with a smile, straightening up. "We’ll practice!"
Nick looks at him strangely. "We- you and me?"
"Sure," Joe says, standing up and gathering his things. "Just give me a couple of hours and meet me in the playroom before dinner."
"It’s called a study," Nick grumbles. "And I don’t like eating in there. Crumbs stick to the pool table like crazy."
"We’ll meet there, and then we’ll go to the dining room to eat."
Nick looks even more confused. "Joseph, what are you up to? I’ve never actually used the dining room here."
"Even better! We’ll christen it together." Joe smiles at the thought, enjoying the idea that there are still new experiences he can introduce Nick to, even if it’s something as simple as sitting at his own dining room table. "Oh! Wear one of your new suits, okay?" He thinks for a moment and then says, "Yes, the navy blue D&G one, with the striped shirt and the Prada tie. Yes."
Nick folds his arms in defiance. "I’m not doing anything until you tell me what’s going on."
Joe winks at him and gives him a gentle knock on the shoulder. "We’re rehearsing, Nick. Think of it as a soundcheck for your date."
Part Three