Fic: Repost / edited version of Joe/Nick dating fic
I just realized that my first part of the Joe/Nick subconscious!dating fic is under flock at onelittlesleep's journal, so I figured I'd re-post it here. Also, this is a little longer, and edited. Check it out. 1,600 words, G. (WOW. I don't think I've written anything rated G before.)
* * *
It’s a crappy day in Toronto, and they’ve all got the night off, so Joe and Nick break routine and go to the movies. When they get to the theater, Joe goes to get in line and Nick grabs him by the sleeve of his flannel. “C’mon,” Nick says, tugging Joe towards the entrance. “I bought the tickets online.”
He pulls open the door and then stands there, waiting for Joe to walk ahead of him. It’s very gentlemanly. Very Nick. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Joe smiles to himself and tickles Nick in the tummy as he brushes past his brother, just to hear Nick’s helpless giggle.
If it had been a full-blown tickle-attack, Nick would have shoved him off, all annoyed and stern-looking. He’d have given Joe his why-are-you-so-foolish? face, and made sure he stayed far enough out of tickling-reach for the next hour. And he would have laughed at the outset, but the aftermath of cranky, huffy little bratty brother would not have been worth it. That’s why Joe sticks to these isolated little random tickles. Nick can’t help but giggle, and it’s over so fast he doesn’t really have time to get annoyed. Much better return on investment.
Nick heads directly to the kiosk, credit card already in hand, to print out their tickets. Joe orbits around him, bouncing on the balls of his feet while Nick gives the kiosk screen his full, very serious attention.
“Hey, I’m going to get some popcorn,” Joe says. “Salt or no salt?”
Nick doesn’t look up. “Just wait for me, Joe. This will only take a second.”
Joe frowns. “Yeah but then we’ll have to wait in line again for popcorn. I’ll just go now and-”
“Joe,” Nick says with mild exasperation. “Just wait for a second.”
Joe pushes up behind Nick, wrapping his arms around Nick’s waist and hooking his face over Nick’s shoulder so he can peer at the screen. “Why don’t you trust me to get the popcorn, Nick? Why are you such a control freak, Nick? Why do you treat me so bad, Nick?”
Nick huffs out a laugh and keeps tapping at the screen. “Because you’re going to do something weird, like dump a box of Mike N’ Ikes in the popcorn to see if they’ll melt, or you’ll feel like buying one of those hot dogs that have been spinning on that machine for the past three years, or you’ll put too much butter and then not want to eat the popcorn and I’ll end up having to miss the previews to come back out here and buy you a new one.” He turns his head towards Joe’s face as the machine whirrs to life. The tickets pop out of the slot seconds later. “Should I go on?”
Joe rolls his eyes. “You make it sound like I’m not capable of ordering my own food.”
Nick raises an eyebrow at him and says nothing.
“You know, I did manage to survive on this planet for three whole years before I had you to look out for me,” Joe says airily as they head to the concession area.
“Also, you don’t even have your wallet,” Nick says.
Joe pats at his jeans and swears under his breath as Nick orders the popcorn. Nick waits patiently for their order with a smug look on his face.
“Why don’t you go and get us some good seats,” he suggests. “I’ll bring the food in.”
Joe shrugs and starts to go, but then stops and says, “You’ll probably need help carrying that, though. I’ll help.”
Nick gives him a weird look. “It’s just a couple of sodas and a popcorn. I think I can handle it. Go get the seats.”
“Well aren’t you the big man,” Joe shoots back, eyes narrowing. And he has no idea why he says it, but the way Nick is acting is like, almost like- “You don’t have to take care of everything, Nicholas. We’re not on a date.”
Nick rolls his eyes and snorts, but his cheeks pink up a little. “I’m not, I- I’m just being efficient, Joseph. And if we sit too close to the screen you’ll get a headache. So please, please go get us some seats, okay?”
Joe finds the perfect seats, the best seats because they’re right in the center, and all the way in the back so they can watch the movie in relative privacy. Plus, if they get recognized, they can always make a quick exit if they have to. When Nick comes in, Joe waves, and Nick grins, pleased with Joe’s seat-scouting.
“Good seats,” he grunts, handing Joe the non-diet soda and settling into the seat next to him.
“I know,” Joe says, sitting back and pulling his feet up onto the row of seats in front of them. “Aren’t you glad I thought to come in early and save them for us?”
Nick rolls his eyes and shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “This is some good popcorn,” Nick garbles, mouth full. “Really tasty.” When Joe reaches for some, Nick holds the bag out of Joe’s reach. “Get your own,” he says, swallowing. “It’s not like we’re on a date or anything.”
Joe lets his mouth fall open in mock-astonishment. “Did you just make a joke? Oh, no, my mistake. You just recycled one of mine. Please pass the snacks.”
Nick passes him the popcorn, probably only because he said please, and Nick likes to encourage good behavior. The lights go down and Joe leans over, whispering as loud as he possibly can, “I’ll sit in the last row with you, buster, but don’t even think about making a move. I’m not that kind of girl.”
Nick chokes on his popcorn, coughing loudly.
“Okay, fine, we can hold hands,” Joe concedes. “But that’s it. I’m serious. No means no.”
The girls in front of them giggle and Nick blushes so red Joe can see it, even in the dark theater. It feels like a victory.
They jostle over the armrest for the first forty minutes of the movie, until Joe just huffs and scootches down in his seat so that Nick can rest his elbow on the back of Joe’s seat.
It feels kind of datey to Joe, but he doesn’t make a joke this time.
* * *
When they get back to the hotel, Joe digs his toe into the carpet and shoots Nick a bashful grin, bats his eyelashes and says, “So, I had a really good time tonight,” all breathy. He’s looking at Nick expectantly.
“Uh,” Nick says, looking up from where he’s inserted the card key into the door, fingers paused before pressing down the handle. “What?”
Joe laughs, then turns his face out in a ridiculous pout. “You’re supposed to say,” and here he drops his voice to an exaggerated baritone, “‘We should do it again sometime.’ And then I would say,” and here he pitches his voice all breathy and feminine, “‘I’d like that,’ and that’d be your cue to go in for the kiss. Haven’t you seen any movies, like ever?”
Nick huffs. “Will you stop?”
Joe laughs and thinks, probably not.
* * *
“Nick?” Joe says when they’re lying in bed that night.
“Yeah?”
“You’d make a really good boyfriend.”
The words just hang in the air, all alone. Joe waits for a moment, then another. Nick is quiet in the next bed, maybe even falling asleep, which is irritating for some reason. It feels weird for those to be the last words he says before going to sleep, so Joe elaborates.
“I mean, maybe you’re a little old fashioned, but it comes from a good place, so it’s nice. And girls like that. Like, chivalry, or whatever. It shows that you care. Because you’re not all that expressive, normally, which is weird, considering the whole music thing. But it’s like, you’re more likely to write a song about how pretty a girl is than to tell her to her face. Which would be a problem, with a girlfriend, if you weren’t so, I don’t know, attentive. But you are, and so, yeah. It works. Good boyfriend material.”
Nick is silent. Joe keeps waiting for him to respond, but all he can hear is Nick’s breathing from across the room.
“Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“I said you’d be a really good-”
“I heard you.”
“Oh.” Joe rolls over and stares at Nick’s back. “Because, on this planet, that would be considered a compliment.”
“Thanks,” Nick says quietly. “Thank you.”
“Whatever, never mind. I take it back,” Joe huffs.
They’re both quiet for awhile.
“If it makes you feel better,” Nick offers, “You’re harder to please than any girl I’ve ever dated.”
Joe can’t fight the grin that conquers his face. He’s thankful for the darkness of the bedroom, so that Nick can’t see how tickled he is to earn the comparison. Instead, he sighs, long suffering and dramatic. “Well I do know how you love the chase,” he says, knowing it will make Nick squirm. Nick’s inability to make a serious relationship work is a bizarre sore point in his career full of stunning successes; his friendships with Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez now bronze medals in a trophy case full of gold.
The silence settles in around them, and, once again, Joe isn’t satisfied with his last words.
“Don’t forget the part where I’m also prettier than any girl you’ve ever dated.”
Nick chokes out a laugh, and Joe grins into his pillow, curls his toes into the sheets.
“At least your hair is real,” Nick compromises. “I like that.”
* * *
Next snippet
* * *
It’s a crappy day in Toronto, and they’ve all got the night off, so Joe and Nick break routine and go to the movies. When they get to the theater, Joe goes to get in line and Nick grabs him by the sleeve of his flannel. “C’mon,” Nick says, tugging Joe towards the entrance. “I bought the tickets online.”
He pulls open the door and then stands there, waiting for Joe to walk ahead of him. It’s very gentlemanly. Very Nick. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it. Joe smiles to himself and tickles Nick in the tummy as he brushes past his brother, just to hear Nick’s helpless giggle.
If it had been a full-blown tickle-attack, Nick would have shoved him off, all annoyed and stern-looking. He’d have given Joe his why-are-you-so-foolish? face, and made sure he stayed far enough out of tickling-reach for the next hour. And he would have laughed at the outset, but the aftermath of cranky, huffy little bratty brother would not have been worth it. That’s why Joe sticks to these isolated little random tickles. Nick can’t help but giggle, and it’s over so fast he doesn’t really have time to get annoyed. Much better return on investment.
Nick heads directly to the kiosk, credit card already in hand, to print out their tickets. Joe orbits around him, bouncing on the balls of his feet while Nick gives the kiosk screen his full, very serious attention.
“Hey, I’m going to get some popcorn,” Joe says. “Salt or no salt?”
Nick doesn’t look up. “Just wait for me, Joe. This will only take a second.”
Joe frowns. “Yeah but then we’ll have to wait in line again for popcorn. I’ll just go now and-”
“Joe,” Nick says with mild exasperation. “Just wait for a second.”
Joe pushes up behind Nick, wrapping his arms around Nick’s waist and hooking his face over Nick’s shoulder so he can peer at the screen. “Why don’t you trust me to get the popcorn, Nick? Why are you such a control freak, Nick? Why do you treat me so bad, Nick?”
Nick huffs out a laugh and keeps tapping at the screen. “Because you’re going to do something weird, like dump a box of Mike N’ Ikes in the popcorn to see if they’ll melt, or you’ll feel like buying one of those hot dogs that have been spinning on that machine for the past three years, or you’ll put too much butter and then not want to eat the popcorn and I’ll end up having to miss the previews to come back out here and buy you a new one.” He turns his head towards Joe’s face as the machine whirrs to life. The tickets pop out of the slot seconds later. “Should I go on?”
Joe rolls his eyes. “You make it sound like I’m not capable of ordering my own food.”
Nick raises an eyebrow at him and says nothing.
“You know, I did manage to survive on this planet for three whole years before I had you to look out for me,” Joe says airily as they head to the concession area.
“Also, you don’t even have your wallet,” Nick says.
Joe pats at his jeans and swears under his breath as Nick orders the popcorn. Nick waits patiently for their order with a smug look on his face.
“Why don’t you go and get us some good seats,” he suggests. “I’ll bring the food in.”
Joe shrugs and starts to go, but then stops and says, “You’ll probably need help carrying that, though. I’ll help.”
Nick gives him a weird look. “It’s just a couple of sodas and a popcorn. I think I can handle it. Go get the seats.”
“Well aren’t you the big man,” Joe shoots back, eyes narrowing. And he has no idea why he says it, but the way Nick is acting is like, almost like- “You don’t have to take care of everything, Nicholas. We’re not on a date.”
Nick rolls his eyes and snorts, but his cheeks pink up a little. “I’m not, I- I’m just being efficient, Joseph. And if we sit too close to the screen you’ll get a headache. So please, please go get us some seats, okay?”
Joe finds the perfect seats, the best seats because they’re right in the center, and all the way in the back so they can watch the movie in relative privacy. Plus, if they get recognized, they can always make a quick exit if they have to. When Nick comes in, Joe waves, and Nick grins, pleased with Joe’s seat-scouting.
“Good seats,” he grunts, handing Joe the non-diet soda and settling into the seat next to him.
“I know,” Joe says, sitting back and pulling his feet up onto the row of seats in front of them. “Aren’t you glad I thought to come in early and save them for us?”
Nick rolls his eyes and shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth. “This is some good popcorn,” Nick garbles, mouth full. “Really tasty.” When Joe reaches for some, Nick holds the bag out of Joe’s reach. “Get your own,” he says, swallowing. “It’s not like we’re on a date or anything.”
Joe lets his mouth fall open in mock-astonishment. “Did you just make a joke? Oh, no, my mistake. You just recycled one of mine. Please pass the snacks.”
Nick passes him the popcorn, probably only because he said please, and Nick likes to encourage good behavior. The lights go down and Joe leans over, whispering as loud as he possibly can, “I’ll sit in the last row with you, buster, but don’t even think about making a move. I’m not that kind of girl.”
Nick chokes on his popcorn, coughing loudly.
“Okay, fine, we can hold hands,” Joe concedes. “But that’s it. I’m serious. No means no.”
The girls in front of them giggle and Nick blushes so red Joe can see it, even in the dark theater. It feels like a victory.
They jostle over the armrest for the first forty minutes of the movie, until Joe just huffs and scootches down in his seat so that Nick can rest his elbow on the back of Joe’s seat.
It feels kind of datey to Joe, but he doesn’t make a joke this time.
* * *
When they get back to the hotel, Joe digs his toe into the carpet and shoots Nick a bashful grin, bats his eyelashes and says, “So, I had a really good time tonight,” all breathy. He’s looking at Nick expectantly.
“Uh,” Nick says, looking up from where he’s inserted the card key into the door, fingers paused before pressing down the handle. “What?”
Joe laughs, then turns his face out in a ridiculous pout. “You’re supposed to say,” and here he drops his voice to an exaggerated baritone, “‘We should do it again sometime.’ And then I would say,” and here he pitches his voice all breathy and feminine, “‘I’d like that,’ and that’d be your cue to go in for the kiss. Haven’t you seen any movies, like ever?”
Nick huffs. “Will you stop?”
Joe laughs and thinks, probably not.
* * *
“Nick?” Joe says when they’re lying in bed that night.
“Yeah?”
“You’d make a really good boyfriend.”
The words just hang in the air, all alone. Joe waits for a moment, then another. Nick is quiet in the next bed, maybe even falling asleep, which is irritating for some reason. It feels weird for those to be the last words he says before going to sleep, so Joe elaborates.
“I mean, maybe you’re a little old fashioned, but it comes from a good place, so it’s nice. And girls like that. Like, chivalry, or whatever. It shows that you care. Because you’re not all that expressive, normally, which is weird, considering the whole music thing. But it’s like, you’re more likely to write a song about how pretty a girl is than to tell her to her face. Which would be a problem, with a girlfriend, if you weren’t so, I don’t know, attentive. But you are, and so, yeah. It works. Good boyfriend material.”
Nick is silent. Joe keeps waiting for him to respond, but all he can hear is Nick’s breathing from across the room.
“Nick?”
“Yeah?”
“I said you’d be a really good-”
“I heard you.”
“Oh.” Joe rolls over and stares at Nick’s back. “Because, on this planet, that would be considered a compliment.”
“Thanks,” Nick says quietly. “Thank you.”
“Whatever, never mind. I take it back,” Joe huffs.
They’re both quiet for awhile.
“If it makes you feel better,” Nick offers, “You’re harder to please than any girl I’ve ever dated.”
Joe can’t fight the grin that conquers his face. He’s thankful for the darkness of the bedroom, so that Nick can’t see how tickled he is to earn the comparison. Instead, he sighs, long suffering and dramatic. “Well I do know how you love the chase,” he says, knowing it will make Nick squirm. Nick’s inability to make a serious relationship work is a bizarre sore point in his career full of stunning successes; his friendships with Miley Cyrus and Selena Gomez now bronze medals in a trophy case full of gold.
The silence settles in around them, and, once again, Joe isn’t satisfied with his last words.
“Don’t forget the part where I’m also prettier than any girl you’ve ever dated.”
Nick chokes out a laugh, and Joe grins into his pillow, curls his toes into the sheets.
“At least your hair is real,” Nick compromises. “I like that.”
* * *
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