Fic: Here Comes Your Man (Joe/Nick, PWP)
Okay. This is awful. Mainly because I wrote it this morning in between meetings for novaberry, who wanted Joe shotgunning Nick, and who is relentless in her epic picspams of Nick J, and who almost gave up on this glorious fandom the other day. So I tried to hit lots of her kinks, and then lots of my own, and then it all came out in this vomitous mess of porn. But I said I would post it - so here it is!
Title: Here Comes Your Man
Pairing: Joe/Nick with a side serving of Garbo/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jonas Brothers, real-person fiction, featuring homosexual underage dub-con incest and drug use. Also, horrific characterization of Garbo. Un-betaed.
Word Count: 4,800
Summary: Nick, Joe and Garbo get high and play Truth or Dare with a couple of girls at Garbo’s place.
Disclaimer: This definitely did not happen.
Here Comes Your Man
“Truth,” Nick says, all defiant, jaw jutting out in a tight clench.
The living room is rumpled, as are its inhabitants: Joe sprawled lazily on the loveseat next to Nick, Garbo packing a bowl for another round, and four pretty girls that Garbo knows from back home, lying around sharing a fifth of vodka on the floor.
“Truuuuuth,” one of the girls says, drawing it out like she wasn’t expecting him to choose that option.
Nick’s twitchy, fidgety and obvious. He’s trying too hard to act relaxed, the surest sign he’s uncomfortable.
“Hmmm,” she says, smiling at him with interest. She looks around at her friends for a moment. “What do we want to know about little Jonas?”
The flash of a pout on Nick’s face is quickly schooled into a blank expression. Joe slides closer on the couch next to him, pushes up against him.
“Don’t call him that,” Joe says to the girl on the floor, voice all stoned and slow as he wraps an arm around Nick’s waist. “He hates that. ‘Sides, he’s not the littlest Jonas.”
Nick glares at him, trying to push Joe’s arm off of him. “Bigger than you,” he says grumpily.
“Even though he’s totally the baby,” Joe continues, ignoring Nick. “He’s my baby,” he says with a sleepy grin and a lazy knock of his head against Nick’s.
“Aww,” Garbo says. His voice is rough and scratchy from the smoke. He wraps his arm around one of the girls on the floor, pulling her closer to sit in between his splayed knees. “You two are-” he pauses as if trying to pick the right phrasing. “You two are just so adorable.”
Joe smiles wider and hums against Nick’s shoulder. “Is you is, or is you ain’t my baby,” he croons, hugging Nick tighter.
“Ugh! Joe! Get off!” Nick says, embarrassed.
“You are,” Joe protests, and shoves closer. He cups his hand around Nick’s cheek and jaw, rubbing at the flushed skin there. “Soft like a baby,” Joe murmurs. His face is a dopey, intoxicated mess of pride and affection. “Beautiful baby boy,” Joe says, and Nick’s ears go even redder.
The girls giggle and Nick huffs. “Could you please just try to not be so weird?” He shoves at Joe again, but Joe just hugs him harder, resting his head on Nick’s shoulder.
“It’s just because you’re so cute,” the girl in Garbo’s arms coos, and Nick’s cheeks flush a dark pink, jaw ticking as he shrugs off his brother again.
“Truth,” Nick says, reminding the rest of them that there’s a game to be played here. Never mind the fact that it’s not the sort of game one can win, Nick’s crazy competitive streak won’t let the game end on his turn. It shouldn’t be so difficult for him to focus, to outsmart everyone else in the room, but Nick’s out of his element here. Joe’s nuzzling his neck and stroking his hand down Nick’s chest, and Nick’s wasting too much energy trying to ignore him.
“Okay, okay, don’t rush me,” the girl says. She eyes him speculatively, then giggles as inspiration dawns. “Okay baby Jonas,” she says, and after a dramatic pause: “What kind of porn gets you off the hardest-”
“W-what?” Nick chokes, clearly thrown. His eyes go wide and he huffs out a nervous laugh. “What kind of porn-?”
“Hang on, jumpy,” she says. “This is a multiple choice question. The choices are: girl-on-guy, girl-on-girl, or guy-on-guy. Which one, you know, cranks you up the most?”
“Oooh, good question!” Joe says, breathing against Nick’s neck as he twists one of Nick’s curls around his index finger. “Tell us, Nicky.”
“Shut up,” Nick says, cheeks flushing.
“Aw, c’mon Nick,” Garbo cajoles. “Enquiring minds want to know.”
“I-I don’t own any porn,” Nick tries with a shrug.
The girl laughs and shakes her head. “You don’t have to own the porn. You can watch it on the internet; you can steal it from your brothers; you can rent it in a hotel room.” She’s ticking all of the options on her fingers until she stops to laugh again. “I can’t believe I have to tell a seventeen-year-old kid how to get his hands on some spank material.”
Nick bristles a little. He sits forward, dislodging Joe from his shoulders. The flex of his biceps is obvious, an outward demonstration of maturity, virility, aggression. Take me seriously, he’s projecting. I may be a kid, but I’m kind of a big deal.
“Sometimes he beats it to comic books,” Joe says helpfully. “Like those Japanese ones, you know what I mean?
Nick looks horrified. “I do not!”
“Yeah, you do. Remember last week when you downloaded those comics and then you beat off like three times in a row? You thought I was sleeping, but-”
“You were sleeping. You were dreaming,” Nick growls, but the splotches on his cheeks tell a different story.
The girl smiles again, differently this time, more suggestively. She crawls over towards Nick and runs her hands up his calves, pressing against his knees with her fingernails. “Point is, I don’t care where you get it,” she says to Nick. “I just want to know what gets you off.”
Nick smirks at her, trying to look unruffled. He cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows, a little I bet you do expression to try to mask what is clearly sheer terror at being this close to a willing and available set of breasts. He sinks back against the seat, against his brother, re-establishing a safer distance.
“So what’s it going to be?” She slides her hands further up his legs. “Girls, guys or both?”
He shakes his head and blushes deeper, lets out an embarrassed little chuckle. “Okay, okay,” he says, shaking his head. “Um. I guess. Both?”
Right away, Joe is smiling against the skin on the back of his neck and the girl in front of Nick bursts into giggles. “You heard it here folks,” she says, scooting back to her spot next to one of her friends, who gives her a high five. “Baby Jonas swings both ways.”
Nick sputters for a moment but Joe shushes him. “Shh,” he says, laughing softly against Nick’s hair. “You walked right into that one.” Joe kisses him chastely on the temple and pats Nick’s belly to calm him. “You’re too easy,” Joe says softly.
“I bet he likes those cheerleader ones,” Garbo says out of nowhere. He’s got his hand up his girl’s shirt, squeezing at her breast and teasing her nipple for everyone to see, but the whole time he’s watching Nick like a hawk. “You know, the ones where you get all those huge titties and shaved pussies, but also those beefy blond jocks too, all pumped up pecs and big dicks.”
“Whoa!” Joe says with a laugh. “Earmuffs!” He claps his hands on either side of Nick’s face, covering his ears with his palms. Nick swats him away, irritated, and pointedly does not gape at what Garbo is doing.
There’s no reason for Nick to volunteer any more information, but that doesn’t stop him from blurting out, “I don’t really go for blondes.” Like that was the only bit of information that required further clarification.
There’s a stunned pause and then everyone bursts out laughing, including Nick. The shocky pink blotches on his face are even more pronounced, but his smile says Nick thinks he’s won this round. Survived a brutal game of let’s-embarrass-the-kid and come out relatively unscathed.
The girl in Garbo’s lap squirms a little and then says, “My turn! Joseph, I dare you to shotgun your brother,” she says, not for a moment considering that Joe wouldn’t choose dare. She points to the packed bowl on the side table and then wiggles her fingers in Nick’s direction.
Joe lets his head loll back against the seat and laughs up at the ceiling. “Oh. Oh man. I would,” he says, then looks down, all around. “You know I would. He doesn’t smoke.”
He ruffles Nick’s hair as he says it, so Nick automatically elbows him in the gut. Right there, Nick’s lost all of his cred. Again.
“At all?” the girl asks, eyebrows raised. “Can’t you just, like, make him? Just a little?”
“All the cool kids are doing it,” Garbo says, looking at Nick.
Joe lets his head flop towards Nick and when Nick looks at him, Joe smiles, lazy and affectionate. There’s a question there, a perfectly visible you wanna? right there on Joe’s face.
It’s a clear dilemma for Nick. If he says no, Joe won’t push him. Joe will make the girl give him another dare, and she will, because those are the rules, and life will go on. Tomorrow, Nick will wake up and he’ll once again be master of their destinies: the one in charge, the one with all the talent and all of the plans, the one everyone looks to for decisions and inspiration. But tonight, now, in the bizarro universe of Garbo’s apartment, Nick is just this prissy, sober, virgin-kid who’s too uptight to have fun. And for all of his smug calmness, for all of his rockstar mojo, the whole problem is crystal clear on Nick’s face as he works it out.
“Uh, yeah, okay,” Nick says slowly. “It’s cool.”
Joe raises his eyebrows. He looks surprised, but also happy. Almost proud. “Yeah?”
“Whatever,” Nick says. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve probably gotten a contact high from you guys already.”
Joe chuckles and says, “Yeah, probably not.” He shakes his head but reaches for the pipe and lighter anyway.
“Okay,” he says, patting his knee. “Come sit here.”
Nick scrunches his face in confusion. “Why do I have to sit on your lap?”
“Because,” Joe explains patiently. “We’ve got to be close so that the smoke doesn’t, like,” he waves his hand in the air, “escape, or whatever.”
Garbo huffs out a soft laugh and Joe puts out a hand, pressing at the air as if signaling everyone else to keep it down. Nick looks dubious, but he slides onto Joe’s lap, sitting sideways across Joe’s thighs and slouching down so that his face is even with Joe’s.
“Alright, uh. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Joe starts to explain, but Nick cuts him off with a frustrated little huff.
“I know what’s going to happen, Joe. Just get on with it.”
“Yes sir, Mr. President, sir,” Joe says with a grin and a practiced salute. Nick rolls his eyes, but his cheeks pink up a little. Joe lights the bowl and sucks in a deep breath, holding the smoke in his mouth. He wraps a hand around the back of Nick’s neck and tugs him forward, pressing his lips to Nick’s. A second passes, then another, and Joe tugs at Nick’s hair. Nick pulls back, confused, and Joe bursts out laughing, blowing the smoke right into Nick’s face.
“Dude!” Joe says. “You have to open your mouth!”
Nick coughs and swallows desperately, eyes watering in the smoky air. Everyone else is laughing. Nick’s tension is visible in the set of his shoulders. “Fine, whatever. Do it again,” he demands.
“He’s a bossy little fucker, isn’t he?” one of the girls on the floor says.
“You have no idea,” Joe answers, but he’s looking at Nick dreamily, like there’s simply nothing better than being bossed around by his kid brother.
Nick snaps his fingers in Joe’s face and says, “Waiting on you, bro.”
Joe chuckles and lights the bowl, takes his hit, and pulls Nick back down. This time Nick opens his mouth right away, sealing his lips with Joe’s and inhaling deeply. Through his nose.
Joe starts to laugh again, and a bit of smoke puffs out from the side of his mouth. He reaches up and tries to pinch Nick’s nose, but can’t do it without laughing again. Another cloud of smoke is released right into Nick’s face, leaving him sputtering and choking.
“Oh man,” Joe says in between giggles. “Oh man, Nick.” He wraps his arms around Nick’s middle and cuddles him close while Nick continues to cough. “You have to breathe in, with your mouth. The whole point is for the smoke that’s in my mouth to go into your mouth.” He pokes at Nick’s lips as he says this.
Nick wipes at his eyes and smiles despite himself. “Right, right,” he says, still coughing a bit. “That, uh, makes sense.”
“Atta boy,” Joe says with a teasing grin. “I told ‘em you were more than just a pretty face.”
Nick rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep his lips from sliding back and exposing his teeth. “Okay, I’ve got it. Let’s go again,” he says.
Joe lights up, sucks in the smoke and holds it in his mouth. He looks at Nick, eyebrows raised, making sure Nick’s ready before pulling him down for another try. It mostly works this time, Nick’s mouth is open and pressed tightly to Joe’s, and he inhales sharply, sucking down a mouthful of smoke and sealing his own lips tight after he pulls away.
And then there’s this weird, critical moment, where Joe just doesn’t pull back like he’s supposed to. His lips press against Nick’s for a few soft, sucking kisses, these little tiny nips of his mouth against Nick’s. Joe’s hands are in Nick’s hair, holding him steady, and he’s just kissing Nick, mouth working gentle and slow at Nick’s puffy lips like he knows it’s his only chance.
“Mmph,” Nick says, and grabs at Joe’s hands, clutching desperately. His eyebrows furrow in a distressed, scrunched line and he lets out a soft hurt noise, like a whimper. He doesn’t push Joe away though, and when Joe pulls back, Nick’s dazed, stricken, and his mouth looks tender and wet. He exhales slowly, a faint stream of smoke visible in the air, and stares at Joe.
“Mmm. Well done, Mr. President,” Joe says, voice warm and unashamed. He rubs his thumb across the seam of Nick’s slack mouth. Nick’s eyes go dark and hot for a quick second, before he shakes his head and lets out one weak cough. He’s got a hand on Joe’s chest, holding him at an appropriate distance, but his fingers are curled in Joe’s t-shirt like he might just change his mind and need to haul his brother closer.
“Wait, wait,” the girl on Garbo’s lap says. “Did he do it? I didn’t see!” She turns to Garbo and says, “You didn’t tell me to watch!”
“Hey!” Garbo throws up his hands in defense. “I wasn’t watching either!” The grin on his face says otherwise.
Nick keeps his eyes trained on Joe, like he needs to concentrate. His frown is going blurry though, facial features softening without his explicit consent. He swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “We can do it again,” he says after a moment, and then turns to their audience and adds, darkly, “Watch.”
Joe looks delighted, grinning at Nick as he re-packs the bowl and lights it up. It’s a monster hit this time, but Nick Jonas is no slouch so he sucks it into his mouth like a pro. He doesn’t even cough this time, just holds it all in while Joe kisses him lazily. Again, Nick doesn’t pull away. It’s like he thinks kissing is part of the process, and he just wants to do this right, like there’s a way to win at shotgunning pot from his big brother. After a couple of moments, Nick tilts his face to the side and exhales, blowing the hot smoke against Joe’s cheek.
“Perfect,” Joe sighs, and nuzzles against Nick’s mouth, lipping him wet and sloppy. Nick just watches Joe, quiet and wide-eyed as Joe mouths his jaw, his neck. “Always so perfect,” Joe says, and then Nick inhales sharply, gives in and kisses him back, hot and slow and obscene. His brows are still scrunched, like there’s something he shouldn’t be doing here, but he can’t remember what. Probably all of it.
“Oh,” the girl says. Garbo shushes her quietly.
Joe may have been the one to kiss Nick first, but now he’s yielding, completely relaxed and pliant in Nick’s grip as Nick rolls on top of him. It’s an unfamiliar setting but they’ve slipped into familiar roles; Nick doesn’t know how to not take charge and Joe can’t hold anything back from his brother. He wants to give Nick anything he can.
Nick pushes Joe back so he’s lying against the back of the sofa and Nick can press against him, holding Joe’s wrists and kissing him the whole time. The muscles in Nick’s back flex and bunch under his thin t-shirt as he presses into Joe again and again, hips moving in a slow rocking rhythm that he’s probably not even aware of. His feet press into the arm of the sofa, toes digging in for more leverage, and Joe slides one of his legs around the back of Nick’s knees. The room is silent except for the soft sounds of wet mouths and the occasional faint groan.
“Holy shit,” one of the other girls says, too far out of Garbo’s grasp to be quieted. “They’re totally making out.”
“Shh!” the one on Garbo’s lap hisses, but it’s too late. Nick pulls back, clearly dazed, but also horrified. He scrambles off of Joe, panicked.
Joe, on the other hand, stays exactly where he is, pressed into the cushions of the couch, calm and happy. His dick is thick and hard, pushing at the front of his jeans so that everyone can see, but he’s unconcerned. He reaches out and grabs Nick’s arm, steadying him and keeping him on the couch, in the room, on the planet.
“Shh, hey,” he says. “It’s not a big deal. It’s-it’s cool, c’mon.” He pauses and then tugs at Nick’s arm again. “Love you.”
“Joe,” Nick says, a warning tone to his voice. He’s got one hand pressed down between his own legs, desperately pressing at his dick.
“It’s cool,” Garbo repeats quietly. “It’s not a big deal.”
Nick jerks his head towards Garbo as if to argue, but freezes when he sees what’s going on. The girl has Garbo’s dick out and she’s jacking him hard and slow. Garbo is flushed and kind of sweaty, and his dick is big.
“Whoa,” Nick whispers, shocked.
“Nick,” Joe says, pulling him back down into the couch. “It’s fine. Garbo and I do this stuff all the time,” he says, meaning the pot, probably. "And they're cool," he says, indicating the girls.
Nick looks at him, amazed, but also really, really stoned. All he can see is Joe’s wide, down-tipped brown eyes; his pink lips slick with spit; his soft wavy hair. He reaches out a hand, shaky, tentative, and touches at the top of Joe’s chest, running his fingers through the sparse dark hair there.
“Y-you do this?” Nick asks, brow furrowed. He looks equal parts surprised and offended, like he had a right to know about this in advance.
“Sure, sometimes,” Joe smiles and slides up the couch until he’s pressing against Nick’s side. He reaches out and smoothes the crinkle in Nick’s brow with his fingers. “You’re so high,” he says with a chuckle, ruffling Nick’s hair one more time. “We’ll have to keep this from the press, Mr. President,” he says, all serious. “At least until after the inauguration.”
“Why do you keep calling him that?” one of the girls on the floor asks.
Joe smirks and pulls Nick closer, drawing him into another intense hug. “Because he loves it,” he says, and ducks his head to kiss at Nick’s neck.
Nick closes his eyes and clutches at him, violent and clumsy at the same time. “S-sh-shut up,” Nick breathes, pulling Joe’s face harder against his arched throat.
“You do love it,” Joe teases, but doesn’t stop mouthing at Nick’s pale skin.
“Yeah, well give the President another hit,” the girl with Garbo says. “He needs to relax.”
Nick squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, but Joe just smiles and reaches to grab the pipe off the table. Nick’s hand flies up, grasping at the air, searching for Joe.
“Open your eyes,” Joe says as he lights up. Nick shakes his head, petulant, like a child. Joe laughs and leans in, wraps his hand around the nape of Nick’s neck, fingers pushing into Nick’s curls. He pulls Nick closer and puts his mouth to Nick’s, which, despite the apparent protests, falls open for him easily. Joe mmms against Nick’s lips, breathes hot sweet smoke into Nick’s mouth. Nick whimpers quietly and sucks it down, uncomplaining.
It’s Nick that goes for the kiss this time, chasing Joe’s mouth with his own, helpless, like he can’t not. Joe smiles into it, bringing his other hand up to cradle Nick’s face like something precious. They kiss and Nick’s hand slides down in between his own legs, just holding himself lightly while he tongue-fucks his brother. Another long minute passes in silence.
“Ohhh, uh,” Garbo groans. “Joe. Man. Look at him. You gotta get him off,” he says, voice shaky. “Make him come.”
This time Joe closes his eyes, as if the thought is too much to bear. When he is able to look at Nick again he finds him dazed, kiss-stupid and malleable.
“Yeah,” Joe says after a moment. “C’mon,” he says, pulling at Nick so that he’s sitting in between Joe’s thighs, his back to Joe’s chest. “It’ll be fun.”
Nick groans as Joe touches him, rough hands on his chest, waist, legs. Joe pulls at Nick’s thighs, hooks his hands under Nick’s knees and drags his legs over Joe’s own, spreading him open and making Nick’s jeans press tight against his swollen dick. He lets his head fall back on Joe’s shoulder so that Joe can keep sucking at his neck.
“Want me to do it?” Joe murmurs, lips brushing against Nick’s hot ears. He slides one hand over the bulge in Nick’s jeans to punctuate the question. “Want me to take it out, get you off? Show you off to everyone? Huh? Just tell me.”
Nick’s hips jump and his dick strains against his jeans, but he doesn’t look at anyone but Joe. He tries, futilely, to turn in Joe’s arms, to sit on Joe’s lap and curl in around his brother, but Joe holds him still, pinned and on display. Finally he exhales shakily and nods his head. “N-no,” he breathes. But then he drags Joe’s hand back down, presses it hard to his dick, over his jeans.
Joe squeezes him, curling his fingers around the shape of Nick’s cock. “Gonna make you feel so good,” Joe says. His voice is so low that Nick feels it more than hears it, Joe’s lips shaping the words with a wet drag against Nick’s neck. “Watch me,” Joe says, rubbing hard.
Nick nods his head jerkily, biting his lip to keep from moaning at the feel of his brother’s grip on him. His dick swells with every pass of Joe’s hand, until it’s snugged up impossibly tight in his pants. They’re all watching, everyone watching him, seeing how turned on he is, what Joe is doing to him. Everyone can see everything, can watch Nick battling with himself, fighting his own urges to buck and thrust up against Joe’s hand, to shimmy back against where Joe is pressed against him, to moan helplessly and loudly and beg for more. Instead, he just grunts and shoves once, hard, into Joe’s grip.
“Oh fuck, Nick,” Joe groans, and shoves up against Nick’s ass. Nick reaches back, grasps blindly for his brother’s neck, pulling him even closer. “Let me,” Joe pants. “Wanna feel you, all hard in my hand.”
Nick shakes his head frantically, biting his lip in a panic. Joe’s going for his fly, and Nick tries to stop him, tries to wrestle his hands away but his coordination is awful and he can’t seem to make his fingers work. “Nonono,” he whines.
“Do it,” Garbo says from somewhere in front of him, and Nick chokes.
“Shhh,” Joe says as he wiggles his fingers into Nick’s jeans. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
“Oh God,” Nick moans as Joe gets his fist around Nick’s thick little cock and tugs once, twice. Nick pushes at Joe’s forearm feebly, high and lost in the sensation. “Oh God.”
Joe pushes his face into Nick’s curls, inhaling deeply as he strokes Nick’s cock. “So good,” Joe groans. “So good for me.”
“Juh-” Nick is lost; can’t get it together enough to even speak. He’s just lying there, helpless and hard on Joe’s lap while Joe jacks him off in front of Garbo and these girls he doesn’t even know. Nick’s body jerks and shakes. His stomach tightens and he starts to whine, so Joe feeds him the fingers of his free hand, letting Nick suck him quiet. It’s a practiced move, like they’ve done this before, needed to muffle moans and create their own false sense of privacy.
“Love you,” Joe whispers, arm muscles straining as he works Nick over.
Ironically, for all of the jumping and seizing and whimpering, Nick goes absolutely shock-still when he comes. He draws in a breath, sealing his lips around Joe’s fingers and flaring his nostrils, scrunches his face up into a tragic, hurt little face and then there it is. Thick messy blurts of come dribbling over Joe’s fist in absolute silence. He breathes hard, like he’s just run a race, belly heaving from the sudden release of tension.
There’s all sorts of noise in the room, Garbo and his girl going at it, the other two girls tittering on the floor, Joe and Nick breathing hard against each other, but it’s clear Nick is floating in his own universe, all comed-out and loose. Joe nuzzles at him, wipes his hand off on Nick’s jeans and turns him in his arms, dragging Nick up onto his lap. Nick straddles him and pushes up real close, cuddling against Joe’s neck and kissing him softly around the collar of his t-shirt. Joe’s hands slip down Nick’s back to rest at the curve of his ass, fingertips sliding in past his jeans and Nick just rocks forward onto him, all sleepy and sated.
Joe whispers something into Nick’s ear that makes Nick snuggle closer, makes Nick kiss him slow and sweet. Nobody can hear it, but everyone else can see Nick’s shoulder moving as he rubs at Joe’s dick. He’s going at it slowly, like he’s trying to draw it out rather than race to a finish, but that may just be a side-effect of his post-orgasm lassitude.
“Hey, no fair,” one of the girls says from the floor. “We can’t see.”
“Shhh! Oh my God,” Garbo says. “Shut the hell up!”
Joe looks up, over Nick’s shoulder, like he’s just remembered where they are. He stills Nick’s arm with a gentle hand and a soft kiss on the mouth, and then just wraps his arms around Nick protectively. Nick goes without a protest, resting his head against Joe’s shoulder and cuddling closer. Joe grins lazily and nods at Garbo with a slight tilt of his head.
“Alright, alright,” Garbo says. “Where were we? Right. Ashley, truth or dare?”
The girls try not to complain too loudly when Joe pulls Nick off the couch and shuffles him towards a bedroom.
“’Night girls,” Joe calls out as he tugs Nick by the hand.
“’Night!” they yell out in unison. And then one voice calls out above the rest, “Baby Jonas, you are awesome at Truth or Dare!”
Nick blushes and smiles and lets himself be led down the hallway.
THE END
Title: Here Comes Your Man
Pairing: Joe/Nick with a side serving of Garbo/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jonas Brothers, real-person fiction, featuring homosexual underage dub-con incest and drug use. Also, horrific characterization of Garbo. Un-betaed.
Word Count: 4,800
Summary: Nick, Joe and Garbo get high and play Truth or Dare with a couple of girls at Garbo’s place.
Disclaimer: This definitely did not happen.
Here Comes Your Man
“Truth,” Nick says, all defiant, jaw jutting out in a tight clench.
The living room is rumpled, as are its inhabitants: Joe sprawled lazily on the loveseat next to Nick, Garbo packing a bowl for another round, and four pretty girls that Garbo knows from back home, lying around sharing a fifth of vodka on the floor.
“Truuuuuth,” one of the girls says, drawing it out like she wasn’t expecting him to choose that option.
Nick’s twitchy, fidgety and obvious. He’s trying too hard to act relaxed, the surest sign he’s uncomfortable.
“Hmmm,” she says, smiling at him with interest. She looks around at her friends for a moment. “What do we want to know about little Jonas?”
The flash of a pout on Nick’s face is quickly schooled into a blank expression. Joe slides closer on the couch next to him, pushes up against him.
“Don’t call him that,” Joe says to the girl on the floor, voice all stoned and slow as he wraps an arm around Nick’s waist. “He hates that. ‘Sides, he’s not the littlest Jonas.”
Nick glares at him, trying to push Joe’s arm off of him. “Bigger than you,” he says grumpily.
“Even though he’s totally the baby,” Joe continues, ignoring Nick. “He’s my baby,” he says with a sleepy grin and a lazy knock of his head against Nick’s.
“Aww,” Garbo says. His voice is rough and scratchy from the smoke. He wraps his arm around one of the girls on the floor, pulling her closer to sit in between his splayed knees. “You two are-” he pauses as if trying to pick the right phrasing. “You two are just so adorable.”
Joe smiles wider and hums against Nick’s shoulder. “Is you is, or is you ain’t my baby,” he croons, hugging Nick tighter.
“Ugh! Joe! Get off!” Nick says, embarrassed.
“You are,” Joe protests, and shoves closer. He cups his hand around Nick’s cheek and jaw, rubbing at the flushed skin there. “Soft like a baby,” Joe murmurs. His face is a dopey, intoxicated mess of pride and affection. “Beautiful baby boy,” Joe says, and Nick’s ears go even redder.
The girls giggle and Nick huffs. “Could you please just try to not be so weird?” He shoves at Joe again, but Joe just hugs him harder, resting his head on Nick’s shoulder.
“It’s just because you’re so cute,” the girl in Garbo’s arms coos, and Nick’s cheeks flush a dark pink, jaw ticking as he shrugs off his brother again.
“Truth,” Nick says, reminding the rest of them that there’s a game to be played here. Never mind the fact that it’s not the sort of game one can win, Nick’s crazy competitive streak won’t let the game end on his turn. It shouldn’t be so difficult for him to focus, to outsmart everyone else in the room, but Nick’s out of his element here. Joe’s nuzzling his neck and stroking his hand down Nick’s chest, and Nick’s wasting too much energy trying to ignore him.
“Okay, okay, don’t rush me,” the girl says. She eyes him speculatively, then giggles as inspiration dawns. “Okay baby Jonas,” she says, and after a dramatic pause: “What kind of porn gets you off the hardest-”
“W-what?” Nick chokes, clearly thrown. His eyes go wide and he huffs out a nervous laugh. “What kind of porn-?”
“Hang on, jumpy,” she says. “This is a multiple choice question. The choices are: girl-on-guy, girl-on-girl, or guy-on-guy. Which one, you know, cranks you up the most?”
“Oooh, good question!” Joe says, breathing against Nick’s neck as he twists one of Nick’s curls around his index finger. “Tell us, Nicky.”
“Shut up,” Nick says, cheeks flushing.
“Aw, c’mon Nick,” Garbo cajoles. “Enquiring minds want to know.”
“I-I don’t own any porn,” Nick tries with a shrug.
The girl laughs and shakes her head. “You don’t have to own the porn. You can watch it on the internet; you can steal it from your brothers; you can rent it in a hotel room.” She’s ticking all of the options on her fingers until she stops to laugh again. “I can’t believe I have to tell a seventeen-year-old kid how to get his hands on some spank material.”
Nick bristles a little. He sits forward, dislodging Joe from his shoulders. The flex of his biceps is obvious, an outward demonstration of maturity, virility, aggression. Take me seriously, he’s projecting. I may be a kid, but I’m kind of a big deal.
“Sometimes he beats it to comic books,” Joe says helpfully. “Like those Japanese ones, you know what I mean?
Nick looks horrified. “I do not!”
“Yeah, you do. Remember last week when you downloaded those comics and then you beat off like three times in a row? You thought I was sleeping, but-”
“You were sleeping. You were dreaming,” Nick growls, but the splotches on his cheeks tell a different story.
The girl smiles again, differently this time, more suggestively. She crawls over towards Nick and runs her hands up his calves, pressing against his knees with her fingernails. “Point is, I don’t care where you get it,” she says to Nick. “I just want to know what gets you off.”
Nick smirks at her, trying to look unruffled. He cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows, a little I bet you do expression to try to mask what is clearly sheer terror at being this close to a willing and available set of breasts. He sinks back against the seat, against his brother, re-establishing a safer distance.
“So what’s it going to be?” She slides her hands further up his legs. “Girls, guys or both?”
He shakes his head and blushes deeper, lets out an embarrassed little chuckle. “Okay, okay,” he says, shaking his head. “Um. I guess. Both?”
Right away, Joe is smiling against the skin on the back of his neck and the girl in front of Nick bursts into giggles. “You heard it here folks,” she says, scooting back to her spot next to one of her friends, who gives her a high five. “Baby Jonas swings both ways.”
Nick sputters for a moment but Joe shushes him. “Shh,” he says, laughing softly against Nick’s hair. “You walked right into that one.” Joe kisses him chastely on the temple and pats Nick’s belly to calm him. “You’re too easy,” Joe says softly.
“I bet he likes those cheerleader ones,” Garbo says out of nowhere. He’s got his hand up his girl’s shirt, squeezing at her breast and teasing her nipple for everyone to see, but the whole time he’s watching Nick like a hawk. “You know, the ones where you get all those huge titties and shaved pussies, but also those beefy blond jocks too, all pumped up pecs and big dicks.”
“Whoa!” Joe says with a laugh. “Earmuffs!” He claps his hands on either side of Nick’s face, covering his ears with his palms. Nick swats him away, irritated, and pointedly does not gape at what Garbo is doing.
There’s no reason for Nick to volunteer any more information, but that doesn’t stop him from blurting out, “I don’t really go for blondes.” Like that was the only bit of information that required further clarification.
There’s a stunned pause and then everyone bursts out laughing, including Nick. The shocky pink blotches on his face are even more pronounced, but his smile says Nick thinks he’s won this round. Survived a brutal game of let’s-embarrass-the-kid and come out relatively unscathed.
The girl in Garbo’s lap squirms a little and then says, “My turn! Joseph, I dare you to shotgun your brother,” she says, not for a moment considering that Joe wouldn’t choose dare. She points to the packed bowl on the side table and then wiggles her fingers in Nick’s direction.
Joe lets his head loll back against the seat and laughs up at the ceiling. “Oh. Oh man. I would,” he says, then looks down, all around. “You know I would. He doesn’t smoke.”
He ruffles Nick’s hair as he says it, so Nick automatically elbows him in the gut. Right there, Nick’s lost all of his cred. Again.
“At all?” the girl asks, eyebrows raised. “Can’t you just, like, make him? Just a little?”
“All the cool kids are doing it,” Garbo says, looking at Nick.
Joe lets his head flop towards Nick and when Nick looks at him, Joe smiles, lazy and affectionate. There’s a question there, a perfectly visible you wanna? right there on Joe’s face.
It’s a clear dilemma for Nick. If he says no, Joe won’t push him. Joe will make the girl give him another dare, and she will, because those are the rules, and life will go on. Tomorrow, Nick will wake up and he’ll once again be master of their destinies: the one in charge, the one with all the talent and all of the plans, the one everyone looks to for decisions and inspiration. But tonight, now, in the bizarro universe of Garbo’s apartment, Nick is just this prissy, sober, virgin-kid who’s too uptight to have fun. And for all of his smug calmness, for all of his rockstar mojo, the whole problem is crystal clear on Nick’s face as he works it out.
“Uh, yeah, okay,” Nick says slowly. “It’s cool.”
Joe raises his eyebrows. He looks surprised, but also happy. Almost proud. “Yeah?”
“Whatever,” Nick says. “It’s not a big deal. I’ve probably gotten a contact high from you guys already.”
Joe chuckles and says, “Yeah, probably not.” He shakes his head but reaches for the pipe and lighter anyway.
“Okay,” he says, patting his knee. “Come sit here.”
Nick scrunches his face in confusion. “Why do I have to sit on your lap?”
“Because,” Joe explains patiently. “We’ve got to be close so that the smoke doesn’t, like,” he waves his hand in the air, “escape, or whatever.”
Garbo huffs out a soft laugh and Joe puts out a hand, pressing at the air as if signaling everyone else to keep it down. Nick looks dubious, but he slides onto Joe’s lap, sitting sideways across Joe’s thighs and slouching down so that his face is even with Joe’s.
“Alright, uh. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Joe starts to explain, but Nick cuts him off with a frustrated little huff.
“I know what’s going to happen, Joe. Just get on with it.”
“Yes sir, Mr. President, sir,” Joe says with a grin and a practiced salute. Nick rolls his eyes, but his cheeks pink up a little. Joe lights the bowl and sucks in a deep breath, holding the smoke in his mouth. He wraps a hand around the back of Nick’s neck and tugs him forward, pressing his lips to Nick’s. A second passes, then another, and Joe tugs at Nick’s hair. Nick pulls back, confused, and Joe bursts out laughing, blowing the smoke right into Nick’s face.
“Dude!” Joe says. “You have to open your mouth!”
Nick coughs and swallows desperately, eyes watering in the smoky air. Everyone else is laughing. Nick’s tension is visible in the set of his shoulders. “Fine, whatever. Do it again,” he demands.
“He’s a bossy little fucker, isn’t he?” one of the girls on the floor says.
“You have no idea,” Joe answers, but he’s looking at Nick dreamily, like there’s simply nothing better than being bossed around by his kid brother.
Nick snaps his fingers in Joe’s face and says, “Waiting on you, bro.”
Joe chuckles and lights the bowl, takes his hit, and pulls Nick back down. This time Nick opens his mouth right away, sealing his lips with Joe’s and inhaling deeply. Through his nose.
Joe starts to laugh again, and a bit of smoke puffs out from the side of his mouth. He reaches up and tries to pinch Nick’s nose, but can’t do it without laughing again. Another cloud of smoke is released right into Nick’s face, leaving him sputtering and choking.
“Oh man,” Joe says in between giggles. “Oh man, Nick.” He wraps his arms around Nick’s middle and cuddles him close while Nick continues to cough. “You have to breathe in, with your mouth. The whole point is for the smoke that’s in my mouth to go into your mouth.” He pokes at Nick’s lips as he says this.
Nick wipes at his eyes and smiles despite himself. “Right, right,” he says, still coughing a bit. “That, uh, makes sense.”
“Atta boy,” Joe says with a teasing grin. “I told ‘em you were more than just a pretty face.”
Nick rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep his lips from sliding back and exposing his teeth. “Okay, I’ve got it. Let’s go again,” he says.
Joe lights up, sucks in the smoke and holds it in his mouth. He looks at Nick, eyebrows raised, making sure Nick’s ready before pulling him down for another try. It mostly works this time, Nick’s mouth is open and pressed tightly to Joe’s, and he inhales sharply, sucking down a mouthful of smoke and sealing his own lips tight after he pulls away.
And then there’s this weird, critical moment, where Joe just doesn’t pull back like he’s supposed to. His lips press against Nick’s for a few soft, sucking kisses, these little tiny nips of his mouth against Nick’s. Joe’s hands are in Nick’s hair, holding him steady, and he’s just kissing Nick, mouth working gentle and slow at Nick’s puffy lips like he knows it’s his only chance.
“Mmph,” Nick says, and grabs at Joe’s hands, clutching desperately. His eyebrows furrow in a distressed, scrunched line and he lets out a soft hurt noise, like a whimper. He doesn’t push Joe away though, and when Joe pulls back, Nick’s dazed, stricken, and his mouth looks tender and wet. He exhales slowly, a faint stream of smoke visible in the air, and stares at Joe.
“Mmm. Well done, Mr. President,” Joe says, voice warm and unashamed. He rubs his thumb across the seam of Nick’s slack mouth. Nick’s eyes go dark and hot for a quick second, before he shakes his head and lets out one weak cough. He’s got a hand on Joe’s chest, holding him at an appropriate distance, but his fingers are curled in Joe’s t-shirt like he might just change his mind and need to haul his brother closer.
“Wait, wait,” the girl on Garbo’s lap says. “Did he do it? I didn’t see!” She turns to Garbo and says, “You didn’t tell me to watch!”
“Hey!” Garbo throws up his hands in defense. “I wasn’t watching either!” The grin on his face says otherwise.
Nick keeps his eyes trained on Joe, like he needs to concentrate. His frown is going blurry though, facial features softening without his explicit consent. He swallows thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “We can do it again,” he says after a moment, and then turns to their audience and adds, darkly, “Watch.”
Joe looks delighted, grinning at Nick as he re-packs the bowl and lights it up. It’s a monster hit this time, but Nick Jonas is no slouch so he sucks it into his mouth like a pro. He doesn’t even cough this time, just holds it all in while Joe kisses him lazily. Again, Nick doesn’t pull away. It’s like he thinks kissing is part of the process, and he just wants to do this right, like there’s a way to win at shotgunning pot from his big brother. After a couple of moments, Nick tilts his face to the side and exhales, blowing the hot smoke against Joe’s cheek.
“Perfect,” Joe sighs, and nuzzles against Nick’s mouth, lipping him wet and sloppy. Nick just watches Joe, quiet and wide-eyed as Joe mouths his jaw, his neck. “Always so perfect,” Joe says, and then Nick inhales sharply, gives in and kisses him back, hot and slow and obscene. His brows are still scrunched, like there’s something he shouldn’t be doing here, but he can’t remember what. Probably all of it.
“Oh,” the girl says. Garbo shushes her quietly.
Joe may have been the one to kiss Nick first, but now he’s yielding, completely relaxed and pliant in Nick’s grip as Nick rolls on top of him. It’s an unfamiliar setting but they’ve slipped into familiar roles; Nick doesn’t know how to not take charge and Joe can’t hold anything back from his brother. He wants to give Nick anything he can.
Nick pushes Joe back so he’s lying against the back of the sofa and Nick can press against him, holding Joe’s wrists and kissing him the whole time. The muscles in Nick’s back flex and bunch under his thin t-shirt as he presses into Joe again and again, hips moving in a slow rocking rhythm that he’s probably not even aware of. His feet press into the arm of the sofa, toes digging in for more leverage, and Joe slides one of his legs around the back of Nick’s knees. The room is silent except for the soft sounds of wet mouths and the occasional faint groan.
“Holy shit,” one of the other girls says, too far out of Garbo’s grasp to be quieted. “They’re totally making out.”
“Shh!” the one on Garbo’s lap hisses, but it’s too late. Nick pulls back, clearly dazed, but also horrified. He scrambles off of Joe, panicked.
Joe, on the other hand, stays exactly where he is, pressed into the cushions of the couch, calm and happy. His dick is thick and hard, pushing at the front of his jeans so that everyone can see, but he’s unconcerned. He reaches out and grabs Nick’s arm, steadying him and keeping him on the couch, in the room, on the planet.
“Shh, hey,” he says. “It’s not a big deal. It’s-it’s cool, c’mon.” He pauses and then tugs at Nick’s arm again. “Love you.”
“Joe,” Nick says, a warning tone to his voice. He’s got one hand pressed down between his own legs, desperately pressing at his dick.
“It’s cool,” Garbo repeats quietly. “It’s not a big deal.”
Nick jerks his head towards Garbo as if to argue, but freezes when he sees what’s going on. The girl has Garbo’s dick out and she’s jacking him hard and slow. Garbo is flushed and kind of sweaty, and his dick is big.
“Whoa,” Nick whispers, shocked.
“Nick,” Joe says, pulling him back down into the couch. “It’s fine. Garbo and I do this stuff all the time,” he says, meaning the pot, probably. "And they're cool," he says, indicating the girls.
Nick looks at him, amazed, but also really, really stoned. All he can see is Joe’s wide, down-tipped brown eyes; his pink lips slick with spit; his soft wavy hair. He reaches out a hand, shaky, tentative, and touches at the top of Joe’s chest, running his fingers through the sparse dark hair there.
“Y-you do this?” Nick asks, brow furrowed. He looks equal parts surprised and offended, like he had a right to know about this in advance.
“Sure, sometimes,” Joe smiles and slides up the couch until he’s pressing against Nick’s side. He reaches out and smoothes the crinkle in Nick’s brow with his fingers. “You’re so high,” he says with a chuckle, ruffling Nick’s hair one more time. “We’ll have to keep this from the press, Mr. President,” he says, all serious. “At least until after the inauguration.”
“Why do you keep calling him that?” one of the girls on the floor asks.
Joe smirks and pulls Nick closer, drawing him into another intense hug. “Because he loves it,” he says, and ducks his head to kiss at Nick’s neck.
Nick closes his eyes and clutches at him, violent and clumsy at the same time. “S-sh-shut up,” Nick breathes, pulling Joe’s face harder against his arched throat.
“You do love it,” Joe teases, but doesn’t stop mouthing at Nick’s pale skin.
“Yeah, well give the President another hit,” the girl with Garbo says. “He needs to relax.”
Nick squeezes his eyes shut even tighter, but Joe just smiles and reaches to grab the pipe off the table. Nick’s hand flies up, grasping at the air, searching for Joe.
“Open your eyes,” Joe says as he lights up. Nick shakes his head, petulant, like a child. Joe laughs and leans in, wraps his hand around the nape of Nick’s neck, fingers pushing into Nick’s curls. He pulls Nick closer and puts his mouth to Nick’s, which, despite the apparent protests, falls open for him easily. Joe mmms against Nick’s lips, breathes hot sweet smoke into Nick’s mouth. Nick whimpers quietly and sucks it down, uncomplaining.
It’s Nick that goes for the kiss this time, chasing Joe’s mouth with his own, helpless, like he can’t not. Joe smiles into it, bringing his other hand up to cradle Nick’s face like something precious. They kiss and Nick’s hand slides down in between his own legs, just holding himself lightly while he tongue-fucks his brother. Another long minute passes in silence.
“Ohhh, uh,” Garbo groans. “Joe. Man. Look at him. You gotta get him off,” he says, voice shaky. “Make him come.”
This time Joe closes his eyes, as if the thought is too much to bear. When he is able to look at Nick again he finds him dazed, kiss-stupid and malleable.
“Yeah,” Joe says after a moment. “C’mon,” he says, pulling at Nick so that he’s sitting in between Joe’s thighs, his back to Joe’s chest. “It’ll be fun.”
Nick groans as Joe touches him, rough hands on his chest, waist, legs. Joe pulls at Nick’s thighs, hooks his hands under Nick’s knees and drags his legs over Joe’s own, spreading him open and making Nick’s jeans press tight against his swollen dick. He lets his head fall back on Joe’s shoulder so that Joe can keep sucking at his neck.
“Want me to do it?” Joe murmurs, lips brushing against Nick’s hot ears. He slides one hand over the bulge in Nick’s jeans to punctuate the question. “Want me to take it out, get you off? Show you off to everyone? Huh? Just tell me.”
Nick’s hips jump and his dick strains against his jeans, but he doesn’t look at anyone but Joe. He tries, futilely, to turn in Joe’s arms, to sit on Joe’s lap and curl in around his brother, but Joe holds him still, pinned and on display. Finally he exhales shakily and nods his head. “N-no,” he breathes. But then he drags Joe’s hand back down, presses it hard to his dick, over his jeans.
Joe squeezes him, curling his fingers around the shape of Nick’s cock. “Gonna make you feel so good,” Joe says. His voice is so low that Nick feels it more than hears it, Joe’s lips shaping the words with a wet drag against Nick’s neck. “Watch me,” Joe says, rubbing hard.
Nick nods his head jerkily, biting his lip to keep from moaning at the feel of his brother’s grip on him. His dick swells with every pass of Joe’s hand, until it’s snugged up impossibly tight in his pants. They’re all watching, everyone watching him, seeing how turned on he is, what Joe is doing to him. Everyone can see everything, can watch Nick battling with himself, fighting his own urges to buck and thrust up against Joe’s hand, to shimmy back against where Joe is pressed against him, to moan helplessly and loudly and beg for more. Instead, he just grunts and shoves once, hard, into Joe’s grip.
“Oh fuck, Nick,” Joe groans, and shoves up against Nick’s ass. Nick reaches back, grasps blindly for his brother’s neck, pulling him even closer. “Let me,” Joe pants. “Wanna feel you, all hard in my hand.”
Nick shakes his head frantically, biting his lip in a panic. Joe’s going for his fly, and Nick tries to stop him, tries to wrestle his hands away but his coordination is awful and he can’t seem to make his fingers work. “Nonono,” he whines.
“Do it,” Garbo says from somewhere in front of him, and Nick chokes.
“Shhh,” Joe says as he wiggles his fingers into Nick’s jeans. “It’s okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.”
“Oh God,” Nick moans as Joe gets his fist around Nick’s thick little cock and tugs once, twice. Nick pushes at Joe’s forearm feebly, high and lost in the sensation. “Oh God.”
Joe pushes his face into Nick’s curls, inhaling deeply as he strokes Nick’s cock. “So good,” Joe groans. “So good for me.”
“Juh-” Nick is lost; can’t get it together enough to even speak. He’s just lying there, helpless and hard on Joe’s lap while Joe jacks him off in front of Garbo and these girls he doesn’t even know. Nick’s body jerks and shakes. His stomach tightens and he starts to whine, so Joe feeds him the fingers of his free hand, letting Nick suck him quiet. It’s a practiced move, like they’ve done this before, needed to muffle moans and create their own false sense of privacy.
“Love you,” Joe whispers, arm muscles straining as he works Nick over.
Ironically, for all of the jumping and seizing and whimpering, Nick goes absolutely shock-still when he comes. He draws in a breath, sealing his lips around Joe’s fingers and flaring his nostrils, scrunches his face up into a tragic, hurt little face and then there it is. Thick messy blurts of come dribbling over Joe’s fist in absolute silence. He breathes hard, like he’s just run a race, belly heaving from the sudden release of tension.
There’s all sorts of noise in the room, Garbo and his girl going at it, the other two girls tittering on the floor, Joe and Nick breathing hard against each other, but it’s clear Nick is floating in his own universe, all comed-out and loose. Joe nuzzles at him, wipes his hand off on Nick’s jeans and turns him in his arms, dragging Nick up onto his lap. Nick straddles him and pushes up real close, cuddling against Joe’s neck and kissing him softly around the collar of his t-shirt. Joe’s hands slip down Nick’s back to rest at the curve of his ass, fingertips sliding in past his jeans and Nick just rocks forward onto him, all sleepy and sated.
Joe whispers something into Nick’s ear that makes Nick snuggle closer, makes Nick kiss him slow and sweet. Nobody can hear it, but everyone else can see Nick’s shoulder moving as he rubs at Joe’s dick. He’s going at it slowly, like he’s trying to draw it out rather than race to a finish, but that may just be a side-effect of his post-orgasm lassitude.
“Hey, no fair,” one of the girls says from the floor. “We can’t see.”
“Shhh! Oh my God,” Garbo says. “Shut the hell up!”
Joe looks up, over Nick’s shoulder, like he’s just remembered where they are. He stills Nick’s arm with a gentle hand and a soft kiss on the mouth, and then just wraps his arms around Nick protectively. Nick goes without a protest, resting his head against Joe’s shoulder and cuddling closer. Joe grins lazily and nods at Garbo with a slight tilt of his head.
“Alright, alright,” Garbo says. “Where were we? Right. Ashley, truth or dare?”
The girls try not to complain too loudly when Joe pulls Nick off the couch and shuffles him towards a bedroom.
“’Night girls,” Joe calls out as he tugs Nick by the hand.
“’Night!” they yell out in unison. And then one voice calls out above the rest, “Baby Jonas, you are awesome at Truth or Dare!”
Nick blushes and smiles and lets himself be led down the hallway.
THE END