Comment fic: Mind-reading! (Joe/Nick, R)
Title: What you want is what I want
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,800
Notes and Warnings: Extremely overdue comment fic for inthenameofjuc, who had prompted me with mind-reading. Sibling-incest. Schmoop.
Disclaimer: None of this actually happened.
Joe's always been... well, in tune with Nick, in a way that's not strictly normal. It's not ESP or anything crazy like that. It's more like... he's just really good at sensing what Nick wants or needs, right in the moment that he wants or needs it. It's why Joe's always been able to make Nick smile and laugh like nobody else can. It's why Joe knew to get Nick to a doctor instead of brushing his weight loss off to a growth spurt. It's why Joe knew the difference between when Nick thought Selena was really pretty (for him) and when he thought Camilla was really pretty (for Joe.) It's nothing specific, nothing that Joe can point to like receiving telegraphic images or hearing words in his head or anything like that. He just senses Nick, is all. And for the most part, that's come in handy.
Not that there haven't been some awkward moments, like the two year period when Nick hit puberty hard, and could not stop obsessing about his own dick. Strange as it sounds, it's really tough to sleep when all you can think about is your younger brother's boner, and how much you (he) want(s) to touch it. It got to the point where Joe would huff and slide out of his bunk, clamber into Nick's and put his hands on his brother's shaky little body, rub him off until they could both sleep, cuddled warm and sticky together.
The connection also let Joe help Nick out with his boners in more indirect ways. Like how he could always feel a hard-on coming on, and how he would stand in front of Nick when they were in public, shielding him from prying eyes.
And yes, Joe knew it was weird that he did those things for Nick, that not all brothers would consider hand jobs part of sibling duties, but the waves of gratitude and affection that he felt from Nick afterwards made it all seem right somehow.
The thing was, the bond they shared was always there, and as a result, Joe sometimes lost the ability to distinguish which thoughts were his and which were Nick's. And so now, now that Joe's worked his butt off to write and perform his own music, launch his own solo career and the whole thing has flopped like a dying fish, now Joe's left wondering if he ever had any talent at all, or if he was just able to compose lyrics and melodies for Jonas Brothers music that had floated out of Nick's head. Maybe the whole thing was just a cruel joke, with him nothing more than a puppet on Nick's strings.
It doesn't help that Joe could sense Nick's petulant jealousy during the whole promo period. Like in Dallas, at the Superbowl pre-parties, he'd be getting nothing but a steady stream of happy-Nick vibes, until he had to change and slip out to a party on his own, to get photographed with rappers and models. It'd always happen right as he was heading out, this wave of nasty, jabbing little feelings from Nick, childish barbs about how Nick never got all of this attention with his solo album, and how Nick had only taken a month to write and produce the whole thing, whereas Joe still hadn't even picked the track list for his album. For months, Joe felt these alternating and confusing waves of so proud and not fair. It was so frustrating he sometimes chose to avoid Nick altogether, just so he could keep his sanity in check.
But now he's miserable, insecure and deflated, and he just wants Nick. He wants Nick like a toddler wants a favorite blanket. He needs the comfort. He needs a hug, even if that means he's going to have to tackle hug Nick while he's not paying attention. He doesn't care if it means that Nick will probably pity him, and that he'll probably be able to feel the full force of that pity. He just wants his best friend.
So when Nick shows up in London sans his girlfriend, for no apparent reason other than to hang out with Joe, it gives Joe pause. For the first time ever, Joe wonders if Nick's always been able to sense him in that same way.
They're sitting on the couch in Joe's hotel room watching a bootleg DVD of Cowboys and Aliens when the thought occurs to him. He peers over at Nick suspiciously, but Nick's pretty focused on the movie, doesn't even notice.
If you can hear me, Joe thinks at him, blink.
He waits, and after a long moment, Nick blinks. It's inconclusive, though, because as Joe keeps watching, he sees Nick blink a couple more times, and he realizes that blinking is a pretty involuntary action.
Nick, he thinks, even harder this time, I want you to sneeze, right now.
He waits. Nothing. Joe thinks maybe it's because he didn't really want Nick to sneeze, deep down inside. Maybe the ability is only there when it's based on genuine feeling.
Eventually Nick turns his head, catches Joe staring. "Hey," Nick says softly. "You okay?"
The simple question hits Joe hard, forcing him to look away, because really, he's not okay. He's sad, and it's such an unfamiliar feeling that he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's feeling sorry for himself and feeling guilty to boot, knowing that he should be grateful that he still sells out concerts in other countries, even if he can't fill a small venue in Atlanta. He should be grateful that he has thousands of fans, rather than wishing for hundreds of thousands of fans. He knows how he should feel, but he can't help feeling anything other than pitiful, and there's no way he can explain all of this to Nick without feeling even more pathetic, so he just sighs and mutters, "Yeah, I guess."
Nick pats him on the shoulder, and turns back to the movie. "This is the best part," Nick whispers, squeezing at Joe's neck gently. "Watch."
Joe can't really focus on the on-screen explosions, not when he's feeling like this, and Nick is so close.
Nick, he full-out whines in his head, I need a hug. A really big one. Really bad.
Nick coughs, tugs Joe closer, but it's not what Joe wants. It's not working. Joe lets his head flop back against Nick's arm, looks up at the ceiling and huffs out a sigh. Everything just... everything just sucks right now.
It takes him a second to realize that the TV has gone quiet. He tilts his head down just enough to see that it's turned off, then turns to look at his brother.
Nick is watching him with this... this face that Joe can't decipher. His cheeks have gone pink, his eyes dark, and when he notices Joe looking back at him, his eyes dart up from Joe's mouth, blushing even more. And then he feels it, feels this unexpected want, like Nick wants to kiss him. Or like he wants Nick to kiss him.
A tingly surge of nerves wriggle through Joe's whole body, like he's a kid with a crush. His eyes widen in surprise and he tries as hard as he can to figure out if those are his own feelings, or Nick's. Nick turns his face away, ears flushed red, like he's been caught out, and just... no.
"Nick?"
"Yeah?" Nick doesn't look up when he answers.
Joe swallows a few times, then says, dumbly, "You shut off the movie."
"Yeah," Nick says, without any further explanation.
"Thought you loved this movie."
Nick's quiet for a moment, and then he says, "yeah," again, just as softly. As he does, he slips his hand into Joe's, threading their fingers together.
Joe's heart is pounding, punching at his ribcage from the inside, when Nick says, "I just thought, maybe you wanted..."
He squeezes at Nick's hand, suddenly breathless and says, "Yeah."
Nick looks up at him, and now their faces are really close, and Joe's sure he's blushing as hard as Nick is, and this is insane. The urge to kiss and be kissed is crazy strong, like a magnetic pull, and all he can do is look at Nick's mouth, and wet his own lips and wait. Finally, Nick says, "... to talk?"
Joe holds his breath for a moment, and then he just laughs. Nick smiles at him, confused. So Joe clarifies, "Uh, no. Don't want to talk." He leans his head on Nick's shoulder and looks up at him, licking his lips again and thinking as hard as he can in Nick's direction.
"Oh," Nick says. "Good."
And then Nick kisses him.
It all happens as if in slow motion, Nick leaning down just that tiny bit, drawing a breath in and pressing his mouth, soft and wet, to Joe's in a tentative sucking kiss. Joe's eyes flutter closed, and he thinks, yes, finally, and then he feels Nick's hand on his jaw, sliding up into his hair, holding his face so that he can kiss him again, and again, and again.
Maybe it started out as comfort, as affection, as a response to Joe's sadness. Maybe. But it feels like this kiss is a long time coming, years of wanting and wondering behind it, all resolving in this not-very-special hotel room, in a moment of rare indulgence. And all of a sudden, Joe doesn't feel like a failure, or like a puppet anymore. He feels like someone extremely loved, and wanted, and all of that feels really, really good.
Joe hmms in satisfaction, and Nick gasps, opening his mouth at the sensation and darting his tongue out to lick at Joe's lips. His hands fist tightly in Joe's hair, tugging a little, and the kiss makes a left turn somewhere, and switches from sweet, fluttery innocence to something dark, heavy and hot.
More, one of them thinks. More, more, more.
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,800
Notes and Warnings: Extremely overdue comment fic for inthenameofjuc, who had prompted me with mind-reading. Sibling-incest. Schmoop.
Disclaimer: None of this actually happened.
Joe's always been... well, in tune with Nick, in a way that's not strictly normal. It's not ESP or anything crazy like that. It's more like... he's just really good at sensing what Nick wants or needs, right in the moment that he wants or needs it. It's why Joe's always been able to make Nick smile and laugh like nobody else can. It's why Joe knew to get Nick to a doctor instead of brushing his weight loss off to a growth spurt. It's why Joe knew the difference between when Nick thought Selena was really pretty (for him) and when he thought Camilla was really pretty (for Joe.) It's nothing specific, nothing that Joe can point to like receiving telegraphic images or hearing words in his head or anything like that. He just senses Nick, is all. And for the most part, that's come in handy.
Not that there haven't been some awkward moments, like the two year period when Nick hit puberty hard, and could not stop obsessing about his own dick. Strange as it sounds, it's really tough to sleep when all you can think about is your younger brother's boner, and how much you (he) want(s) to touch it. It got to the point where Joe would huff and slide out of his bunk, clamber into Nick's and put his hands on his brother's shaky little body, rub him off until they could both sleep, cuddled warm and sticky together.
The connection also let Joe help Nick out with his boners in more indirect ways. Like how he could always feel a hard-on coming on, and how he would stand in front of Nick when they were in public, shielding him from prying eyes.
And yes, Joe knew it was weird that he did those things for Nick, that not all brothers would consider hand jobs part of sibling duties, but the waves of gratitude and affection that he felt from Nick afterwards made it all seem right somehow.
The thing was, the bond they shared was always there, and as a result, Joe sometimes lost the ability to distinguish which thoughts were his and which were Nick's. And so now, now that Joe's worked his butt off to write and perform his own music, launch his own solo career and the whole thing has flopped like a dying fish, now Joe's left wondering if he ever had any talent at all, or if he was just able to compose lyrics and melodies for Jonas Brothers music that had floated out of Nick's head. Maybe the whole thing was just a cruel joke, with him nothing more than a puppet on Nick's strings.
It doesn't help that Joe could sense Nick's petulant jealousy during the whole promo period. Like in Dallas, at the Superbowl pre-parties, he'd be getting nothing but a steady stream of happy-Nick vibes, until he had to change and slip out to a party on his own, to get photographed with rappers and models. It'd always happen right as he was heading out, this wave of nasty, jabbing little feelings from Nick, childish barbs about how Nick never got all of this attention with his solo album, and how Nick had only taken a month to write and produce the whole thing, whereas Joe still hadn't even picked the track list for his album. For months, Joe felt these alternating and confusing waves of so proud and not fair. It was so frustrating he sometimes chose to avoid Nick altogether, just so he could keep his sanity in check.
But now he's miserable, insecure and deflated, and he just wants Nick. He wants Nick like a toddler wants a favorite blanket. He needs the comfort. He needs a hug, even if that means he's going to have to tackle hug Nick while he's not paying attention. He doesn't care if it means that Nick will probably pity him, and that he'll probably be able to feel the full force of that pity. He just wants his best friend.
So when Nick shows up in London sans his girlfriend, for no apparent reason other than to hang out with Joe, it gives Joe pause. For the first time ever, Joe wonders if Nick's always been able to sense him in that same way.
They're sitting on the couch in Joe's hotel room watching a bootleg DVD of Cowboys and Aliens when the thought occurs to him. He peers over at Nick suspiciously, but Nick's pretty focused on the movie, doesn't even notice.
If you can hear me, Joe thinks at him, blink.
He waits, and after a long moment, Nick blinks. It's inconclusive, though, because as Joe keeps watching, he sees Nick blink a couple more times, and he realizes that blinking is a pretty involuntary action.
Nick, he thinks, even harder this time, I want you to sneeze, right now.
He waits. Nothing. Joe thinks maybe it's because he didn't really want Nick to sneeze, deep down inside. Maybe the ability is only there when it's based on genuine feeling.
Eventually Nick turns his head, catches Joe staring. "Hey," Nick says softly. "You okay?"
The simple question hits Joe hard, forcing him to look away, because really, he's not okay. He's sad, and it's such an unfamiliar feeling that he doesn't know what to do with himself. He's feeling sorry for himself and feeling guilty to boot, knowing that he should be grateful that he still sells out concerts in other countries, even if he can't fill a small venue in Atlanta. He should be grateful that he has thousands of fans, rather than wishing for hundreds of thousands of fans. He knows how he should feel, but he can't help feeling anything other than pitiful, and there's no way he can explain all of this to Nick without feeling even more pathetic, so he just sighs and mutters, "Yeah, I guess."
Nick pats him on the shoulder, and turns back to the movie. "This is the best part," Nick whispers, squeezing at Joe's neck gently. "Watch."
Joe can't really focus on the on-screen explosions, not when he's feeling like this, and Nick is so close.
Nick, he full-out whines in his head, I need a hug. A really big one. Really bad.
Nick coughs, tugs Joe closer, but it's not what Joe wants. It's not working. Joe lets his head flop back against Nick's arm, looks up at the ceiling and huffs out a sigh. Everything just... everything just sucks right now.
It takes him a second to realize that the TV has gone quiet. He tilts his head down just enough to see that it's turned off, then turns to look at his brother.
Nick is watching him with this... this face that Joe can't decipher. His cheeks have gone pink, his eyes dark, and when he notices Joe looking back at him, his eyes dart up from Joe's mouth, blushing even more. And then he feels it, feels this unexpected want, like Nick wants to kiss him. Or like he wants Nick to kiss him.
A tingly surge of nerves wriggle through Joe's whole body, like he's a kid with a crush. His eyes widen in surprise and he tries as hard as he can to figure out if those are his own feelings, or Nick's. Nick turns his face away, ears flushed red, like he's been caught out, and just... no.
"Nick?"
"Yeah?" Nick doesn't look up when he answers.
Joe swallows a few times, then says, dumbly, "You shut off the movie."
"Yeah," Nick says, without any further explanation.
"Thought you loved this movie."
Nick's quiet for a moment, and then he says, "yeah," again, just as softly. As he does, he slips his hand into Joe's, threading their fingers together.
Joe's heart is pounding, punching at his ribcage from the inside, when Nick says, "I just thought, maybe you wanted..."
He squeezes at Nick's hand, suddenly breathless and says, "Yeah."
Nick looks up at him, and now their faces are really close, and Joe's sure he's blushing as hard as Nick is, and this is insane. The urge to kiss and be kissed is crazy strong, like a magnetic pull, and all he can do is look at Nick's mouth, and wet his own lips and wait. Finally, Nick says, "... to talk?"
Joe holds his breath for a moment, and then he just laughs. Nick smiles at him, confused. So Joe clarifies, "Uh, no. Don't want to talk." He leans his head on Nick's shoulder and looks up at him, licking his lips again and thinking as hard as he can in Nick's direction.
"Oh," Nick says. "Good."
And then Nick kisses him.
It all happens as if in slow motion, Nick leaning down just that tiny bit, drawing a breath in and pressing his mouth, soft and wet, to Joe's in a tentative sucking kiss. Joe's eyes flutter closed, and he thinks, yes, finally, and then he feels Nick's hand on his jaw, sliding up into his hair, holding his face so that he can kiss him again, and again, and again.
Maybe it started out as comfort, as affection, as a response to Joe's sadness. Maybe. But it feels like this kiss is a long time coming, years of wanting and wondering behind it, all resolving in this not-very-special hotel room, in a moment of rare indulgence. And all of a sudden, Joe doesn't feel like a failure, or like a puppet anymore. He feels like someone extremely loved, and wanted, and all of that feels really, really good.
Joe hmms in satisfaction, and Nick gasps, opening his mouth at the sensation and darting his tongue out to lick at Joe's lips. His hands fist tightly in Joe's hair, tugging a little, and the kiss makes a left turn somewhere, and switches from sweet, fluttery innocence to something dark, heavy and hot.
More, one of them thinks. More, more, more.