'Nothing Rhymes with Circus' [Joe Jonas/Nick Jonas] [2/2]

[that_1_incident]

Title: "Nothing Rhymes with Circus"
Author: that_1_incident
Fandom: Jonas Brothers
Rating: R
Warnings: Incest. AU. David Clayton Henrie.
Pairing: Joe Jonas/Nick Jonas, David Henrie/Nick Jonas, Miley Cyrus/Nick Jonas
Word Count: ~21,000 [for rpf_big_bang]
Summary: They begin with a small list of tour dates, just a summer thing along the coast in order to do something their father calls “gauging interest.” Paul Kevin Sr. doesn’t want to brand them as just a gymnastic act so he appoints a skeptical Kevin as ringmaster and even involves little Frankie in the proceedings, despite him being just five years old. The Jonas Brothers Circus soon grows to accommodate some of the Jonai's real-life Disney compatriots as it tours across the country, leaving good and bad memories in its wake.
Disclaimer: Oh, no, I don’t own the JoBros, yo. ...Whoa.
Author's Notes: Thanks to amory_vain for looking this over! So way back in January, a cheaper and less cool version of Cirque Du Soleil had a set of performances at the theatre where I work. As an usher, you have nothing to do but stare blankly at a show you've seen five times before, or write fic in your head. I think you know which I chose.
And! There is ART, courtesy of squigglepie: cover, David, Kevin, Nick & Joe.

Part One.

---<---<---@

Rehearsal… is weird. By now the troupe has it down to a science, but Paul Kevin Sr. still makes them practice every day so he can go through his list of observations from the previous night. Nick’s a perfectionist too, he’ll totally admit that, but even he recognizes that his father goes way over the top sometimes. The man actually sits with a pen and paper, taking notes.

Needless to say, Miley never gets any criticism. It could be because she’s better than everyone else (Nick will concede that, although not by much), but it’s more likely that Paul Kevin Sr. just doesn’t want to step on any toes - namely, those of Billy Ray. Miley knows it too, smirking sweetly at the rest of them as they sit in the ringside seats and scowl back at her. Frankie kicks at the sawdust.

When it’s Nick and Joe’s turn, Nick fumbles three times and Joe almost drops him twice. Paul Kevin Sr. barks out so many orders that their heads start to spin, and eventually Nick asks to go back to the bus, blaming his blood sugar just so he has an excuse to get out of there. He hates drawing attention to his illness but it’s the only excuse his father will accept. When Joe offers to accompany him, Nick gives him a Look and he backs right off. Poor Joe. Nick isn’t helping by holding onto the awkwardness but the thing is, he can’t seem to not.

He’s halfway across the lot when he hears rushed footsteps on the gravel behind him, like someone’s running in his direction. He expects to see Joe when he turns around, but it’s Miley instead - of course it’s Miley. If anyone else had risen to follow him, they would’ve had their heads bitten off.

She lopes up to him and slows gracefully to a stop. “Heyyy, Nicky. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just… get like this.” He shrugs. Might as well perpetuate the excuse, and there’s no point in lying. “I have diabetes.”

She surprises him with her reply of “I figured,” and he looks at her oddly. “What you said about your blood sugar. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh. Well, I. Didn’t want you to be worried.” Great, now he looks like an airhead as well as an invalid.

“I have some candy on my bus,” she offers. “You need to eat sweet stuff, right? To get your sugar levels up?”

Nick shakes his head. “Not that sweet. I’m not hypoglycemic, I’m just overtired. I’ll drink some orange juice or something, and we have that on our bus, so…” He’s trying to come up with a tactful way to end the conversation, but she’s not picking up on it.

“You should come visit anyway! I have orange juice, too! And cranberry juice and mango juice and -” Nick kind of tunes out as she lists the contents of her way-too-large fridge, blinking in confusion when she stops talking and he realizes he has no idea what she just said.

“Umm.” The only excuse he can come up with off the top of his head is something about his father not liking him to be alone with girls, which is lame even if it is true - and besides, he kind of needs to remind himself that girls can be hot, so what’s the harm? He’s not gonna do anything. He knows himself. Rehearsal’s due to run for another half-hour, and… “Okay,” he finds himself saying. “Okay, sure, I’d love to.”

She grins so widely her whole face lights up, then grabs his wrist and takes the lead. Her bus has her name emblazoned on the side in sparkly gold letters, the ever-present “OF CIRQUE DU SOLEIL” languishing underneath. The whole thing’s painted this pale powder pink and there are little “MC” logos sprinkled across it at equidistant intervals, like she’s Louis Vuitton or something. When she opens the door, a hot pink curtain billows out into the breeze.

“Guests first,” she tells him with a smile.

He nods his appreciation, climbs the steps, turns left into the body of the bus and blinks. It looks like a Claire’s Accessories came here to throw up or something.

“What do you think?” Miley asks brightly.

He swallows. “It’s very, um. Colorful.”

He doesn’t elaborate on whether that’s a good thing or not, but Miley seems to take it as a compliment. “I know, don’t you love it?”

Thankfully before he can answer she brushes past him and beckons him to follow. They walk through to the bunk area and she sits rather primly on the edge of the only one unoccupied by stuffed animals, random accessories and piles of clothes that she no doubt failed to fit in the drawers.

“Come sit.”

“Er.” It’s one thing to be inside a girl’s bus but quite another to be sitting on her bed.

“I won’t bite,” she assures, and then adds mischievously, “unless you want me to.”

Ah. He clears his throat. “Listen, Miley…”

“Aw, c’mon.” She tugs on his sleeve and he sits down gingerly, placing his hands in his lap. “I know you feel this, Nicky.”

He almost responds with “Feel what?” but, okay, she’s a girl and she’s into him. This is something he should be welcoming, especially now. She’s not unattractive by any means, and being with her wouldn’t break about fifty different moral and religious and societal laws, which is always a plus. It’s probably bad that he has to talk himself into this, but a halting, “Well…” escapes his lips and that’s evidently all the encouragement Miley needs because she cups his chin and kisses him.

She tastes different than Joe - sweeter and kind of like strawberries, which Nick blames on that weird glittery lip gloss he often sees her applying. He sticks his tongue in her mouth because that’s what boys are meant to do, and she sighs against his lips so he supposes he’s pretty decent at this. Overall the kiss is wet and weird and not nearly as effortless as his last one, but he chalks it up to inexperience on both of their parts and figures it’ll get better in time.

It isn’t until they’re almost halfway across the country that he realizes that’s never going to happen.

--

The worst part about all this is that Joe’s begun to pick up on it. He’s acting really on all the time, more than anyone can handle, and he won’t talk to Nick about anything serious anymore, like missing home or Miley. Nick can’t say he’s displeased about the latter, but the whole thing is very un-Joe-like and it’s got him worried.

And then there’s the fact that they haven’t cuddled in what feels like years, which Nick feels kind of like a girl for picking up on, especially because his estimate of years turns out to be a little under a month and a half when he actually properly thinks about it. It’s just awkward because although Joe won’t touch him with tenderness anymore they have enough contact through rehearsal, performances and Joe’s free-time hi-jinks for Nick to feel like he’s being teased, only with no hope of a reward at the end. It’s getting tiresome, to say the least.

The day Joe shrinks back against his bunk to allow Nick to pass without touching him is the day Nick realizes he’s had enough. Joe’s antics are only fun if he gets to see the quiet, affectionate side that balances them out. He marches over and grabs his brother’s wrist a little harder than intended, meaning to make some kind of joke about Joe being twelve years old, but when Joe tenses under his grip the situation suddenly becomes charged with this vague, dangerous current. They stare at each other evenly, Joe with a flat affect and Nick with as near as he can get to one, although his mouth curves into an O of surprise in the split second it takes for him to get his facial muscles under control and he suspects that’s his tell. Joe holds his gaze for a few more seconds before pulling away. He smoothes his ridiculous hair and ducks under the privacy curtain hanging down in front of his bunk, flashing Nick the slick, silky smile that’s usually reserved for their audiences.

Nick bares his teeth in a grin of thinly veiled unease, and the moment is broken.

--

They’re in Illinois the night Joe yanks him outside after curtain call. The night air is humid but still a welcome relief compared to the Big Top’s stifling heat; between the makeup and the spotlights and the dense mass of circus-goers, it can get pretty toasty in there.

Nick glances at Joe sideways but Joe’s face remains a closed book until they cross the lot and duck behind the Sprouse bus, at which point he says, “You know what? This isn’t going away.”

Nick can feel a tight coil of tension spike in his stomach because, oh. Oh. They’re actually talking about this. Joe’s standing challengingly in front of him and he steps away, feeling the cool metal of the bus against his back. He doesn’t know what to say. If he pretends not to know what Joe’s referring to, Joe will see right through him, but how exactly is he supposed to respond otherwise? “By the way, bro, I think of you whenever I kiss my girlfriend” sounds light years away from acceptable in any universe.

He doesn’t have to dither for long because Joe takes care of his indecision for him, leaning forward to place a soft but deliberate kiss on his lips. Nick freezes. When Joe pulls back Nick finds himself standing there immobile, lips parted like an idiot because he actually cannot process what happened enough to close his mouth. He’s spent what feels like centuries avoiding this, and for what? For Joe to come in and tear all that willpower down in one fell swoop? No. He’s irrationally angry, really impassioned, and he doesn’t know what to do with it or how to let it out so he grabs Joe by the nape of his neck and kisses him bruisingly without further preamble. When he slips his tongue inside his brother’s mouth, a perverse sense of vindication floods his body. It’s a relief just to be doing this, like it’s the only way to let go of all the time and energy he’s spent avoiding it.

Nick’s the one who pulls away first this time, breathless and gasping. Joe looks at him with a crooked grin, tousling his hair and smiling with his eyes, and Nick feels little fireworks go off at his nerve endings.

When Joe kisses him again it’s softer, sweeter, far less rushed. No tongues this time, just learning the contours of each others’ lips, which is fast becoming Nick’s favorite kind of kissing. He cracks open one eye because Joe is nice to look at up close and he swears Joe can sense him doing it, his brother’s smile melting gently against his mouth.

This probably should feel weird, even sinful, but all Nick can think about is the thrumming electric comfort of home.

--

They break apart for good when they hear the other performers beginning to spill into the lot. David’s using his gangsta voice because they’re in Chicago and he’s trying to be Al Capone or something, while Selena and Demi are giggling infectiously, which is the only way they ever laugh. Miley’s slow Southern drawl is behind everything else like a backing track, too far away to hear any actual words but unmistakable nevertheless.

When Joe meets Nick’s eyes his face is bright and flushed. Nick hasn’t seen him look like this since that time in Pittsburgh when David emancipated this ancient, rickety pick-up from God knows where (he has a history of acquiring cars from strange places) and the three of them squeezed into the cab while the girls stood in the truck bed. David stepped on the gas all the way through the Fort Pitt Tunnel, the five of them hollering the lyrics to “Landslide” as the wind turned the girls’ sundresses into ocean waves.

The first time Selena lent Nick “The Perks of Being A Wallflower” (which he borrowed three times before finding a copy in a used book store in Ohio), he talked about nothing else for almost two weeks straight.

“Stay here,” Joe whispers furtively, tearing him from his reverie. “I’ll distract them.”

There’s really no need because seeing the two of them together is hardly an unusual occurrence, but Nick’s in nowhere near the right state of mind to put together a cohesive argument so he lets his brother go.

--

Things are strange after that - not in the strained, awkward way they were before, thank goodness, but off kilter nonetheless. It’s odd to only be allowed to show affection for someone through rushed, stolen kisses, hiding behind buses under cover of darkness.

Nick’s still with Miley - at least, as much as he ever was - and he assumes Joe and Taylor are in a similar situation. He and Joe don’t talk about it, any of it, they just make out in a flurry of gasps and whimpers, clinging to each other like they’re drowning (sometimes Nick feels like they kind of are). Nick feels the weight of what they’re doing bearing down on him and doesn’t want to break the silence for fear that their precious little secret will crack and splinter into nothingness. Even though his brother is technically with Taylor, he knows he has Joe’s heart.

--

They’re making out behind Miley’s bus (of all the ironies) the day Joe tilts his hips too hard into Nick’s, his arousal delineated by the tight pants he typically wears on non-show days. The memory of Jersey and the Sprouses’ pull-out couch rushes back to Nick as clear as anything, and he’s struck by the urge to hook his thumbs through Joe’s belt loops, tug his brother’s jeans all the way down, and… He pulls away jerkily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Joe’s expression reminds Nick of a dog whose owner is suddenly and inexplicably not paying attention to him. Nick looks into his eyes and wants to say so many things, from please let me try this to I love you, but what comes out is, “This shouldn’t be happening.”

Joe looks absolutely crushed. “What?” he asks in a disbelieving whisper, like there’s a real possibility he heard wrong.

Nick’s throat is as dry as the Dakotan Badlands they drove through the week before. “I… you know what we’re doing here is wrong, right? Like. You do, I know you do.”

Joe’s mouth is opening and closing like a fish’s, but if Nick doesn’t get this out now he never will and he really, fervently wants to before it’s too late. He’d been trying to ignore the niggling voice of reason and virtue that dwells in the back of his mind, but the sensation of his brother’s erection against his thigh made everything too loud to stand.

“It’s just… it’s not right.”

Joe’s body sags and it hurts Nick so much to watch. He actually thinks he feels a pain in his chest, which is ridiculous because hearts can’t break in real life - at least not into pieces. He’s unsurprised this was the kicker because for all Joe’s blustering bravado and questionable jokes, his brother’s a very moral person. Perhaps not in the biblical sense, much to their parents’ chagrin, but he knows wrong from right and usually he sticks by that. Nick supposes they both lost their heads when it came to each other.

“Sorry,” Joe mutters, not meeting his eyes.

“No, it’s…” Nick touches his hand and he flinches, which ends up hurting Nick the most of anything. “I’m not mad, we just… we have to stop this.”

Joe doesn’t speak for a few seconds, and Nick thinks he’s angry until he tries to say something and his voice comes out all choked up. “I know we do.”

There’s a very keen sense that the bubble has burst - that now they’ve recognized this as something tangible, it has to end. They stand there awkwardly, because how do you say goodbye to someone you love when you know you’re still going to work with them and hang out with them and sit across the table from them at dinner every night? Eventually Nick puts his arms around Joe and sort of pats him on the back because that makes it seem like more of a guy hug or whatever, and Joe exhales shakily against his cheek. Nick’s lips brush his brother’s skin but if he kisses Joe again, even just that magical place behind his ear, beneath his hair line, he knows he’ll never stop.

--

The next few weeks are miserable for both of them. Sure, they’re professional enough for their performance not to suffer much, but offstage they’re a mess. Nick hears from Selena - he thinks it was Selena - that Joe broke up with Taylor in, like, a twenty-seven-second conversation, and it must be true because Taylor packs her bags and goes back to the Christmas tree farm the very next day. Their dad’s beyond livid because she was young and pretty, a real incentive for middle-aged fathers to buy their children cotton candy. When he explains this to Nick’s mother, who offers to take over Taylor’s role, the line of her lips gets dangerously thin and she doesn’t speak to her husband for a whole day and a half, which seems like forever when you’re coordinating a show together.

Nick and Joe have barely been communicating beyond businesslike exchanges during rehearsals and awkward mealtime small talk, but Nick passes Joe’s bunk one night when the privacy curtain is drawn and something makes him peer around it.

Joe isn’t doing anything Joe-like, just lying on his back and staring at the bottom of the bunk above his. That’s unusual in itself for Joe, or at least it used to be. Sometimes Nick feels like he barely knows who his brother is anymore.

“Hey, are…” Nick clears his throat. “Are you okay?”

Joe slides his eyes over to Nick’s face for a second, gazes at him balefully and then looks away.

“Selena kind of filled me in, but. Twenty-seven seconds? Really?”

Joe smiles grimly. “I don’t know. It wasn’t long, though. I was… I was trying to explain things to her but she freaked out after the first sentence.”

“Um.” Nick bites his lip. “What was the first sentence?”

“‘It’s not fair for me to be with you when I have feelings for someone else,’” Joe tells him flatly, like he’s reciting his multiplication tables. There’s the spark of something challenging in his eyes.

“Oh.” Nick’s heart feels heavy. He’s not really sure what to say.

“Yeah. Did you hear about the part when she bitch-slapped Demi?”

“…Selena left that out.”

Joe stretches his arms above his head and rolls over achingly slowly, like it hurts to move or he can’t quite see the point in it or both. He ends up facing the wall. “I guess Taylor just assumed it was her because Miley’s with you and everyone knows Selena has a massive crush on David, but. It wasn’t.”

“I know it wasn’t,” Nick says softly. It’s like Joe forgot who he was talking to or something. Neither of them says anything after that, and eventually Nick lets the curtain fall closed before going to help his mom in the kitchen.

--

Nick misses having a best friend even more than he misses having someone to make out with. (His girlfriend doesn’t count, and how messed up is that?) He mopes all over everywhere until people get sick of his perpetual Debbie Downer routine and quit trying to make him feel better because they know it’s a lost cause. Even David Henrie’s getting frustrated, and David’s the most chillaxed dude Nick knows.

In fact it’s David who finds him hunched up right at the back of the stands, emo-ing like it’s his job. The view is so crappy from up here. Nick doesn’t understand why people pay money for these seats.

“This is about last night, isn’t it?” David greets him solemnly.

“Huh?”

“Look, I understand that you have needs, but you’ve really gotta start being more sensitive to the fact that I can’t get it up every five seconds, you insatiable beast.”

Nick boggles, and David shrugs and smiles self-deprecatingly.

“I have no idea. I lack a filter, you know? Whatever shit is in my head comes out of my mouth.” He sits down next to Nick and rests his forearms on his thighs. “Made you laugh, though.”

Nick attempts a smile, but his face grows serious at the inadvertent reminder of the reason he hasn’t been laughing much lately.

“For real, dude, what’s been going on with you? You’ve been walking around with a face like a smacked ass.”

“Excuse me?”

He shrugs again. “My Ma says it. I should call her. Anyway, what’s up?”

Nick sighs. David’s always been so approachable and open, someone you can talk to about your problems and trust they’ll be kept in confidence. “I want to tell you, it’s just. It’s kind of big, you know, and you can’t do anything about it anyway.”

The mirth fades from David’s face. “What do you mean, big? Are you okay?”

Something about his expression is so sweet, so genuinely concerned that Nick feels the tears begin to pool in his eyes. “No,” he chokes out, and David leans close enough for Nick to see the little amber flecks in his caring brown eyes.

“Tell me what’s going on. You have to tell me, dude. I’m worried now.”

This isn’t something Nick wants to admit to anybody, himself included, but David’s here and ready to listen and Nick so needs to talk. Normally he’d go to Joe but this time Joe’s the problem, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.

He can’t make his admission to David’s face so he looks down at his shoes and takes a deep breath. Once he starts the sentence his admission comes out in a whoosh of air like it’s desperate to get out of him. “I think I might be gay.”

To his credit, David keeps any reaction off his face.

“And I know that’s really bad ‘cause I… well, I’m supposed to be with Miley, but she doesn’t feel like…” He trails off. “Anything.” He’s figuring this out as he says it, or at least allowing himself to fully acknowledge it for the very first time. “At first I thought it was just her but then I realized I’ve never really felt anything for a girl like, ever, and then I started liking this one guy, and.”

David gets a weird expression on his face. “Is it someone in the troupe?”

“Yeah,” Nick admits softly before he can think about the repercussions. The only guys on the tour apart from them and his brothers are the Sprouse twins, who are nice and everything but still haven’t hit puberty. Even thinking about them like that feels weird, which is rich coming from someone who’s practiced inc- “I mean, no,” he corrects himself, purposely interrupting his own train of thought.

David doesn’t fall for it. “Is it, um.” The corners of his lips are twitching like he wants to laugh, and Nick’s in the middle of debating which Sprouse it would be easier to pretend he has a crush on when David asks him, “Is it me?”

Oh, Jesus.

--

It’s not that David isn’t attractive because he obviously is - hell, both Nick and Joe stared at his bare chest the morning after they went to Jersey, which in light of recent events probably doesn’t say much but still. It’s way easier to imagine being into him than a Sprouse twin, and Nick decides to cut his losses.

“Uh. Maybe.”

David grins like the Cheshire Cat, leaning back so his elbows touch the guardrail. “And you’ve been angsting all this time over little old me?”

“Sure,” Nick agrees. “I mean. Yes.”

“Dumbass,” David says fondly, which is not what Nick was expecting. “You should’ve told me.”

“Um…” David’s being surprisingly understanding about this, and Nick isn’t entirely sure why neither of them is freaking out right now. “It’s not like it would’ve made a difference.”

“Dude, I totally swing both ways.”

Nick’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “Excuse me?”

“I keep it on the DL, what with your folks being so religious and all” (and, God, that’s another problem Nick has to deal with) “but, yeah. I like it both ways.” He grins like maybe he meant that to come out exactly the way it did, and Nick gets a fluttery feeling in his stomach. “So, uh,” David continues, and seeing David Henrie nervous is a deeply weird experience. “Not gonna lie, you’re totally hot in a jailbait kind of way.”

Nick has to laugh at that. “I’m almost legal,” he says huffily, grinning so David will know he’s not truly offended.

David’s kind of beaming at him, and Nick suddenly becomes aware of how close they are and how cool those stupid flecks in David’s eyes look. He hasn’t had a truly passionate kiss since that last time with Joe, and kissing a guy sure isn’t right but at least it’s not his brother.

“Fuck it,” he mumbles, briefly registering the look of surprise on David’s face before pressing their mouths together. Without giving David a chance to respond Nick pulls the other boy’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucks, looking up through the sheath of his eyelashes to gauge David’s reaction. David’s pupils are appropriately dilated so Nick deepens the kiss, slow at first, gentle like Joe (not like Joe, shut up) until David makes an impatient noise in his throat and paws at the nape of Nick’s neck with his fingertips.

They’re kissing now, really kissing, up in the stands where anyone can see (like Joe and - not like Joe) and it’s the most dangerous thing Nick’s ever done but it’s also fantastic. He doesn’t even care that David’s a guy and he’s a guy because hell, at least they’re not related. God should be like the rest of them and take what He can get.

--

So somehow Nick and David become, like, a thing, which… well, sneaking around with your colleague definitely beats sneaking around with your brother, but Nick’s genuinely bemused at how he seems to keep accidentally getting into these situations. There’s still a hollowness in his chest, a yawning emptiness that he temporarily papers over with rehearsals, with schoolwork, with the fact that now he has to hide Joe from Miley, David from Miley, Joe from David and David from Joe - oh, and all of this from his parents. David helps it go away, though, ‘til enough of the edge is taken off.

David’s being so cute about this, too. Like, it would almost be funny if it wasn’t so sweet. Whenever Nick can’t face rehearsing with Joe he’ll do what he can on his own while David sits nearby and cheers him on. They’re in Nebraska now, he’s pretty sure, and if they’re not then it’s one of the other weird boxy states at the top of the country. Point being, the Big Top is set up in this huge open field rather than a dusty lot in the middle of a city, and they rehearse in a part of it that’s a safe distance away from everyone else because sometimes rehearsing just means kissing a whole lot.

Sometimes David tries to legitimize the whole thing by attempting to help Nick out, which is more hilarious than helpful because he’s about as flexible as a turnip despite his formidable physique, but he can get down on the ground and do some of the heavy lifting if Nick tells him where to put his hands. This one time Nick’s going for a handspring off David’s back but David says something funny just as he’s about to do it - he doesn’t even remember what it was now - and he laughs, causing him to sprawl into a neat but ungainly heap at David’s feet. David’s horrified, babbling about concussions and hospitals and saying sorry sorry sorry about a million times until Nick points out that the fall was like, two feet, and he managed to control his landing.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” David breathes, cupping the side of Nick’s jaw.

“It’s okay, really,” Nick murmurs, because while it’s wholly unnecessary that David’s spazzing like this, it’s endearing at the same time. He can’t believe he’s cheesy enough to say this, but… “You can kiss it better if you want to.”

David grins and immediately asks “Where?” in this husky voice that makes Nick shiver.

Nick lifts his right hand and points to the palm of his left. He’s in absolutely no pain whatsoever, but the other boy doesn’t have to know that.

“Okay,” David whispers, pressing delicate butterfly kisses along Nick’s lifeline until goosebumps break out on his arms. As he watches, David kisses up the side of his index finger and tongues at the tip, tentative at first, before sucking. “Cool?” he asks, relinquishing the finger.

His breath feels hot against Nick’s hand and oh, right, Nick’s ring is on one of those fingers, but…

“Completely,” he breathes, and David sucks him down, tonguing at the web of skin right at the base. Nick pulls out and adds another finger, establishing some kind of rhythm so now it’s like David’s sucking him off except not really. He can feel himself getting intensely, incredibly hard and it must be totally obvious because the sweatpants he’s wearing are like this thin. Sure enough, David glances down and sort of smirks around Nick’s fingers before bobbing off.

“What did you do that for?!” Nick exclaims, trying not to sound too breathless.

“I figured you were about to make me stop.”

“Oh.” Nick feels dizzy, probably because all the blood that usually goes to his brain is being diverted to his… yeah. “Do you have to?”

David raises his eyebrows. “Whoa.”

And Nick knows he probably shouldn’t be doing this, in a field of all places and with David freaking Henrie because, oh, yeah, David’s a guy, and Nick wears his promise ring for his parents and for God (he thinks he has the order of that the wrong way around, but it’s honestly how he feels these days). As he’s sitting there, hand clasped in David’s, he realizes that the more he thinks about it the more he feels really, really mad at God, and at his parents, and just mad in general. If he and Joe weren’t brothers, if the stupid Bible and social convention didn’t say this stuff was wrong then they would be golden right now. They would be best friends and boyfriends and so happy.

“Do it,” he commands, pulling his hand away and sort of clawing at the top of his sweatpants, trying to free the insistent erection underneath.

David hesitates for a beat and then says “Let me” really softly, like he wants to exorcize Nick’s demons. He places his hand over Nick’s before gently removing it and resting it on his own hip instead. Nick’s never touched David here before - it feels so intimate, which is a weird thing to think considering that David’s about to handle something far more personal.

At the first touch of David’s hand, he jolts. That’s the only way he can think to describe it - like there’s a bolt of electricity shooting through him even before David actually does anything.

“Oh my God,” David whispers, kissing at Nick’s ear, Nick’s neck. His tone is so reverent that Nick almost has second thoughts about this, knowing it’ll mean way more to David than it will to him. “Are you… are you sure?”

Nick has a sudden moment of dissociation, wondering how ridiculous they look sitting so close together in such a huge field, his dick firm and hot in David’s grasp. He growls out “Yeah” because the image is turning him on so much he can’t stand it.

David’s smile is naughty and a little hungry-looking, and when he starts moving his hand it’s so, so much better than when Nick does this to himself. He shifts to give David easier access and realizes distantly that for once he’s not thinking about Joe, at least not really. He’s making all sorts of undignified noises and he can feel David smiling against his skin, peppering it with kisses in between the firm strokes. He can’t believe he’s doing this, even as he looks down at David’s hand around his cock. It just doesn’t seem real, how good it feels. He wonders how it would have felt with Joe.

Nick doesn’t touch himself a lot because inevitably his thoughts turn to his brother, so he feels the orgasm building pretty quickly. He holds it in for as long as possible but then David touches his balls and he’s done.

He comes all over David’s hand and kind of on his shirt but David doesn’t seem to mind, just licks his fingers mischievously and tucks Nick back in. Nick’s experiencing little aftershocks so it kind of hurts to be touched, but not in a bad way. After Nick’s all covered up they sit opposite each other and share smiles, Nick’s a little glazed and David’s super bright. David shoves his hand inside his jeans and brings himself off quickly as Nick strokes his cheekbones, his jaw and his lips. When David goes to wipe his hand on the grass Nick intercepts it, slipping David’s fingers into his own mouth. David tastes salty and a little bitter, but Nick decides it’s a taste he doesn’t really mind. David smiles like Nick’s the best thing in the world right now, and they lie back and make out lazily for a really long time.

--

Nick’s dad chooses that evening to insist that Nick and Joe practice together at all times, so Nick doesn’t get as much downtime as he’s grown accustomed to. It’s funny - hanging out with Joe used to be his downtime, but the atmosphere between them is so awkward and strained that now it feels more like a chore. Between that and back-to-back shows, Nick doesn’t have time to sit down and think about what happened with David until much later in the week, when it finally hits him that, wait, they actually did that. He thinks back to what happened but it doesn’t feel like his memory, more like he’s recalling a film or whatever, because he wouldn’t do something like that, he wouldn’t. He feels his parents’ judgment sitting personified on his shoulder, perched like a vulture and looking at him with disapproving eyes.

The image bothers him so much that he goes and jacks David off behind the buses.

--

Nick settles into this weird routine of doing and not thinking, whether he’s rehearsing, performing, or making David come in his mouth. They’re in Phoenix now, so David’s all chipper because he’s back in his home state, and the next stop is Vegas, where Miley will go back to Cirque. The Jonas Brothers Circus will end up in California again, and after that Nick has no idea what his father’s plans are. He can’t really bring himself to ask.

“What’s up with you today?” David asks, zipping up his jeans and leaning back against the wall by Nick’s bunk. They’ve become bolder with their… activities, and Nick’s parents mostly leave them alone because they don’t want to crowd him. He suspects they think it’s good he doesn’t hang around with just Joe now. If only they knew.

“What d’you mean?” Nick runs his tongue over the backs of his teeth and tastes David.

David rubs his hip and places a kiss on it. “You’re distracted, Nicky. What’s wrong?”

A little piece of Nick dies inside every time David uses that endearment. It’s not like it happens super-often but every time it does, it’s a gut-wrenching reminder of the fact that David isn’t really who he wants. Nick’s not sure how he became this person: lying to his boyfriend, cheating on his girlfriend, secretly in love with his… his own blood.

He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says dismissively, guiding David’s hand over to the cord of his sweatpants - but to his surprise, David pulls away.

“Nick, I…”

Nick frowns. David’s never this serious.

“I feel like we never talk anymore.”

For one awful second he wants to laugh because hi, Miley 2.0, but the expression on David’s face makes him reconsider and repeat “What do you mean?” instead.

David shrugs. “All we do these days is suck each other’s dicks,” he says bluntly, and Nick flinches at the coarse language - which makes absolutely no sense considering what he’s doing. He goes for humor.

“I thought you liked sucking my dick.”

David gives him a look that reminds him of the one his father gives Frankie when he’s misbehaving, and Nick quails.

“Be serious for a second, yeah? If you just want this to be a hookup thing then that’s fine, but I really like you.”

“I really like you too,” Nick says after a beat, because he does, but… well, his heart’s not in it.

David nods slowly, eyes dark and sad, like Nick’s just confirmed what he thought all along. “That sounded real convincing.”

“I’m sorry.”

David looks at him for a long moment. “Okay.”

“No, I really am.”

“I know.”

There’s an awkward silence before David sighs and touches his hip again. He responds instantly, arcing towards the point of contact in spite of himself. “One more for the road?”

Nick doesn’t quite get what he means at first but then David reaches for his cock, thumbing over the tip. It’s not the best idea, considering, but Nick hardens almost instantly, letting out a groan as David dips down and the thick head disappears between David’s lips before reemerging with a pop. He cards his fingers through David’s dark hair - hair his imagination’s made into a shorter version of Joe’s entirely too many times - and tilts his head, watching David bob up and down deliciously.

“God,” he murmurs - the only time he ever acknowledges Him anymore - bucking his hips and watching himself disappear into David’s eager mouth. He tugs at the straggly parts at the back of David’s hair. “I’m.”

David hums around him and he grunts when he realizes David isn’t going to let go. Part of him wants to pull out and come on David’s face, mark him, but they have to remember where they are. They shouldn’t be doing this anyway, not like this.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, hips thrusting shallowly, climax building and building and building until -

The curtain to the bunk opens and Nick whips his head around so fast he sees spots. He comes hard, dick slipping out of a shocked David’s mouth, but neither of them can focus on that, not now. Nick is sick with the thought of one of his parents seeing him like this, exposing him for who he really is, but when his vision clears it’s not his mother or father at all.

It’s Joe.

Everything goes completely still, the scene freeze-framed as Joe stares at them silently. He looks right into Nick’s eyes and then at David before his gaze comes to rest on Nick’s spit-shiny, softening cock. For a second the expression on his face makes Nick feel terrifyingly naked yet powerful because he knows, he just knows that Joe’s jealous, and right when he thinks Joe’s going to say something his brother draws his lips into a firm line and walks away. David wipes at his face, glances helplessly at Nick, and follows.

--

Nick hears David’s voice from the front of the bus, halting and hesitant, followed by silence. Joe’s a very vocal person - talkative, social, and he always got in trouble for whispering in class (back when they had it). When Joe doesn’t respond to someone, it means he’s really mad.

Nick’s stomach is roiling, the bitter taste of David suddenly making him want to hurl. He rubs at the bed sheet and looks down at his cock, glaring at it like it betrayed him. After everything, his body still feels kind of good, which makes him feel even sicker. David’s so good at sucking him off. He’s gonna miss that.

He hears footsteps coming towards the back of the bus and pulls his boxers up hurriedly, cowering behind the privacy curtain with his heart hammering. He’s expecting Joe to lean in and yell at him, glare at him, ask what the fuck is going on with him, something. But Joe just walks by, and that’s even worse.

--

Nick’s still languishing sorrowfully in his bunk the next time the curtain twitches. He looks up with a mixture of hope and trepidation, immediately assuming that it’s Joe, but it’s Miley’s face that peeks around, tearstained and pale.

“How did you get in here?” Nick hisses, and she sniffles a little and tells him Joe let her in.

Of course.

When she’s settled herself at the other end of his bunk - about where David was sitting just a short time ago - Nick touches her hand gently and asks her what’s wrong. She looks straight at him for maybe half a second before dropping her gaze to the bed sheets, and Nick’s definitely getting déjà vu now.

“Miley?”

“I haven’t, um.” She bites her lip. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

The first conclusion Nick jumps to is that she’s cheating on him, which is probably more to do with his own guilt than anything else, and he’s not sure how to react to that without being a complete hypocrite.

In lieu of a response, she continues, “You know I told you I just wanted to get out of Vegas for a while, see the country, um… travel, and stuff?” Nick nods. “Like… okay, Nicky, that wasn’t technically a lie, I just. There’s kind of more to it than that?”

He nods again, then figures he should be contributing more to the conversation and coaxes, “Like what?”

Miley takes a deep, shuddery breath. “There was this… boy.”

Oh.

While he was with Miley, Nick’s cheated on her with two different people, one of whom is his own blood, so he really has no right to be hurt by this, but… Miley’s pretty cool, and she’s always been nice to him, and she’s never given him a real reason not to want to be with her so sometimes he was kind of happy they were together, as weird as that sounds. She’s been a comfort to him, with her high-spirited nature and Southern belle laugh. It’s strange to think of her keeping secrets.

He clears his throat. “Go on.”

“His name was, um, is Justin. He’s in Cirque too. We used to date, and then…” She laughs sort of hollowly, and Nick gets the strange impulse to hug her but refrains. “We broke up, and I just, I couldn’t deal with seeing him every day so Daddy arranged for me to come tour with you guys for the summer just to take the edge off, you know? And I really didn’t, I mean, I didn’t even think of dating someone else but then I met you…” She trails off, risking a glance upwards to gauge his reaction.

Nick’s stoic, trying to keep any emotion off his face, any hint that part of his heart might also belong to another.

“And, uh. Listen, I know I only have a couple weeks left with you guys before I go back, so I just… I wanted to tell you because I know that when I start performing in Cirque again, Justin’ll be there, and he texted me the other day and it kinda sounds like maybe he wants to get back together, and I don’t know what I want to do yet, but… I just thought you should know.” She hangs her head. “Don’t hate me.”

Nick nods slowly. “Do you love him?”

“I. Maybe?” She’s quiet for a minute. “I used to. I don’t know how I feel about him now. I don’t know how I feel about anything.”

“I think,” Nick says quietly, hating the way Miley’s looking at him like she expects him to hate her, “you should figure out stuff with Justin and then, you know, down the road, maybe we can think about us again. If stuff with him doesn’t work out.”

She’s staring at him like she can’t believe he’s taking this so well, and he offers her a smile to let her know he’s sincere.

“You’re not mad?”

“I want you to be happy,” Nick says, and for once in his relationship with Miley, he’s not lying.

When she hugs him tightly, kisses his cheek and whispers “You’re the best” against his skin, he starts thinking that maybe he’s not a complete abject failure after all.

--

They both kind of come to an agreement that their girlfriend/boyfriend status is no more, at least for now, and it’s strange how neither of them are really upset about it. Nick thinks it’s cool that Miley didn’t end up hating him (or vice versa), and he actually hopes they’ll stay in touch. He’s grown to love her in a weird, mostly platonic way.

She hangs out for a while after their talk and they end up chatting about nothing, just shooting the breeze. Nick realizes he’s been so wrapped up inside his own head the past couple of months that he’s missed a lot of what’s going on around him, never thinking to ask some things he should have. For example, he never knew Miley had an older brother, or a sister around Frankie’s age, or that before Billy Ray became a producer he used to be a singer long ago. Miley hums one of his songs and Nick even thinks he might recognize it, from the time the radio in their bus was broken and the only wavelengths accessible were NPR and a country station.

When it’s almost time for dinner, Miley gives him another hug and tells him “Thank you,” and he briefly feels completely awful before telling himself what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her and hugging her back.

--

Dinner that night is excruciating. Chatting with Miley had put Nick in a better frame of mind, even helped him briefly forget the whole sorry mess with Joe and David, but the second he sits down at the table all that is erased. The tension between Joe and Nick is palpable, making for a plethora of awkward glances, and the only sounds are the scrapings of cutlery on plates and the rustling of the contracts Paul Kevin is looking over. Frankie stares at everybody in turn with big, wide eyes, trying to figure out what’s wrong and how he can fix it, and Kevin pats him reassuringly on the back.

When their mom clears her throat Nick’s almost grateful for it, the noise cutting through the silence like a knife.

“Is everything…” she begins delicately, “all right?”

Joe and Nick glance at each other and then look away at once.

“Fine,” Nick says hoarsely, and Joe nods quickly, avoiding his eyes.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “Just tired. We’ve been practicing a lot - it, uh…” His eyes flicker to Nick’s for a second, and Nick’s a little scared by the emptiness he sees in them. “It takes a lot out of us.”

Nick feels a blush creeping up his cheeks and sets his lips in a tight line, willing himself not to cry or flee to his bunk or both. Joe smirks a little and goes back to his French fries.

--

After dinner Nick slips outside on the pretence of going to watch a movie with the Sprouse twins. Kevin looks at him in a way that means he suspects Nick’s not telling the whole truth while Joe completely ignores him - as usual.

He does go to the Sprouse bus but it’s to see David, who looks immensely surprised to see him and even kind of happy that he’s there, which is weird. He wouldn’t blame David for never wanting to speak to him again.

“I’m sorry about… earlier,” Nick begins as they walk side by side through the lot to the small, dusty sidewalk at the edge of it.

David shrugs. “It’s not your fault I was more into it than you were.”

Nick opens his mouth to respond, but really, they both know that’s true and there’s no use pretending otherwise. Instead he takes David’s hand and continues walking. He can feel David’s confused gaze boring into the side of his face at first but eventually David squeezes his hand and bumps his hip against Nick’s almost playfully.

“You wanna tell me why we even started this thing if you were never really into it?”

And Nick really, badly does but - “Um, not really.”

“Fair enough,” David says quietly, and Nick knows he’s hurting. He deserves better than that.

Nick stops in his tracks. “Okay.”

“…Okay?”

“Listen, you remember what I told you that day in the stands? About liking someone?”

“Yeah.”

“And you know how you tried to guess who it was, and you ended up thinking it was you because I said it wasn’t one of the twins?”

“Yeah?”

Nick’s heart is pounding in his chest and he almost can’t bring himself to say it, but… “It wasn’t, that's true, but… it wasn’t you either.”

David doesn’t get it at first; Nick can tell by his expression. “But I thought you said it was a -” He trails off and something flashes across his face. There it is. “Wait…” he says disbelievingly. “Not...?”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Nick says lamely after a few moments of silence. “You don’t have to like it, but just… please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t,” David says slowly, like he’s trying to figure something out, and then, “Which one?”

A perverse, panicked part of Nick really wants to say Frankie, just to watch David’s jaw hit the ground, but before he has time to say anything David asks softly, “It’s Joe, isn’t it?”

Nick’s floored. It’s not so much the fact that David essentially had a fifty-fifty chance of guessing correctly as it is the absolute surety in his eyes when he said it. He said it like he knew.

“Is that why you guys barely speak anymore?” - and that’s another surprise, because Nick wasn’t aware they were being that obvious.

“…Kind of,” Nick responds, and he knows he’s basically admitting it straight out but it seems like David already knows anyway.

David shakes his head a little. “We all noticed it. You guys used to be, like, joined at the hip.”

“I guess so.” There’s a pang in Nick’s chest as he thinks about how much he’s lost, and an emptiness opens up that would previously have been filled by loveless relationships and obsessive rehearsing.

“You should talk to him,” David says, and it’s about then that Nick starts to cry.

--

If Nick thought seeing Joe was awkward before, that was nothing compared to now. He fakes low blood sugar for three days in a row before his mom starts talking about going to the hospital, at which point he considers his options and makes a miraculous recovery. Lying in bed with a bunch of needles poked into his skin is worse than facing his brother, but only just.

The Phoenix lot is right in the city, so there are no more secluded fields to practice in. The troupe has been taking shifts in the Big Top, and Nick runs into Demi and Selena on the way in. They’re in their practice leotards - far less glitzy than their stage ones - and wearing matching concerned expressions.

“Are you feeling okay now?” Demi asks, pressing her hand to his forehead. Nick’s not sure when a high temperature became a sign of diabetes, but he appreciates her caring.

“Yeah, I’m… it was a blood sugar thing,” Nick lies. He’s become so accustomed to doing that lately, it’s a wonder he isn’t used to the twist in his stomach yet.

Selena frowns at him. “You still don’t look so good.”

“Thanks,” he jokes, and she rolls her eyes at him but still looks worried. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

He figures he sounds convincing because she steps aside to let him pass, but when he turns back to look at them he sees Demi eyeing him suspiciously. He shoots her the fakest grin of his life and strides forward to the ring. Each step feels heavier than the last.

Joe is already there doing warm-ups in his sweatpants. He’s in the middle of a loose handstand when he sees Nick, and his legs wobble slightly before he recovers and flips into a backwards handspring, landing perfectly on his feet. He nods at his brother brusquely.

“Let’s get this over with,” Joe says a little gruffly, squaring his shoulders and keeping his eyes on the ground. Nick could swear his heart actually starts to hurt. Whatever happened to them? They were best friends. “Dad wanted us to go over the second routine,” Joe continues in the same clipped tone, “so we’ll just do that and go, okay?”

“Joe…” Nick croaks out, voice sandpaper dry, and Joe looks at him - really looks at him.

“What,” he hisses. It’s not a question as much as a statement of contempt, and Nick just breaks.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes, and it’s like the words opened a floodgate inside him because suddenly his cheeks are wet and his chest is heaving with funny little gasping noises as he frantically wipes at his tears. The more he tries to regulate his breathing the more he hiccups, and pretty soon he’s a soggy mess.

Joe’s expression is a sort of neutral mixture of confusion, surprise and pity, but at least the anger seems to dissipate as Nick falls apart in front of him. “Nick. …Nicky.”

Hearing the once-familiar endearment makes Nick feel like his heart has suddenly been clamped in a vice. “Ye-” He tries to stabilize his shaking voice. “Yeah?”

“The other day…” Joe sounds vaguely sick, and Nick’s stomach churns in empathy. “Are you and David…?”

“No,” Nick says miserably, scuffing at the sawdust on the floor of the ring. Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he sees Joe do a double-take and feels even more sick just thinking about it. The bad thing about stuff that distracts you is that nothing is a hundred percent foolproof. It’s like you’re running and running away from something, just waiting for the cracks to show through.

“But -”

“I know,” he murmurs, low and dark. He’s breathing properly again. Another hiccup rises in his throat.

“But I saw you.”

“I know.”

Joe’s quiet for a few seconds, and when he speaks again his voice is plaintive and raw round the edges. “How is that any better than…?”

Nick can’t think about the ins and outs of morality anymore, he’s just. He’s done. He loves Joe and he’s sick of feeling bad about it just because the person he’s in love with happens to be a guy, and his brother. He just wishes he could wake up tomorrow morning in a world where them being together would be okay.

“Better than what?” he shoots back.

Joe stares at him and squares his shoulders, and something small and scared twists in Nick’s stomach. “You know, forget it. Just… whatever, Nick. Do what you want. Or should I say, who.”

That’s when Nick sees red. He wouldn’t be in this situation if it wasn’t for Joe. It’s all his brother’s fault. Without Joe, without what happened, he would never have done anything with David in the first place, none of it would even have been an issue if it wasn’t for his stupid brother and their stupid feelings for each other.

He launches himself at Joe and Joe barely has the chance to lift his hands before Nick’s body hits him, toppling them both backwards with an absurd force. Nick can’t ever remember moving that quickly, but everything’s a blur by now. Joe’s pinned underneath but somehow manages to intercept Nick’s wild thrashing long enough to trap his brother’s hands in his own, and Nick responds by bucking wildly against him. Joe smirks mirthlessly, his mouth a grim and even line as he uses Nick’s momentum to flip the other boy onto his back and seize the upper hand. Nick growls in frustration, twisting every which way to try to escape, but Joe holds his wrists down with surprising strength, and kisses him.

Nick had forgotten what it was like to do this. He always knew in a little recess right at the back of his heart that kissing Miley and even David was nothing like kissing Joe, but his senses or his subconscious or… something had dulled the intensity of the memory to the point where it was almost bearable.

He’s kissing back before his body really knows what to do with itself, so desperately and messily that he wonders whether it’s really him at all. Joe’s making these little mewling noises in the back of his throat, ragged and wanting, and Nick tugs at his brother’s hair because he can’t think what else to do with his hands. He’s operating on pure instinct now, rutting up against Joe because it’s what his body’s telling him to do, and he can feel Joe hardening through his leotard. Joe’s babbling nonsense words half-formed against his lips and he licks and nips and swallows them down, probing Joe’s mouth like this is new for him. It actually feels like it is, as if for the first time he’s giving all of himself, and it’s terrifying but so good - it’s so good. He doesn’t want to stop, not ever, because he knows he can’t change his mind this time. He won’t walk away from Joe again.

Joe’s hand cups his hardness and his breath stutters; he’s unwilling to look away as Joe tilts his chin up with a firm but gentle grasp and looks intently into his eyes. “If you back out on me,” Joe starts, but he can’t even get the rest of the sentence out before Nick starts shaking his head furiously.

“I won’t,” he chokes out, half-pleading, so ashamed. “David was - he didn’t… nothing is.” He’s not making sense and he knows it, but somehow he can’t seem to calm down. “I just. I want you.”

Joe leans away, propping himself up on his elbows as Nick gazes piteously up at him. It would almost be funny, Nick being in a heap on the ground like this, if it wasn’t for how heart-wrenching it is to see him curled into himself, flecks of sawdust sticking to his salt-wet cheeks. With apparent great effort and an enormous rush of breath, Nick exhales a shuddery, “I’m s-sorry.”

Joe rubs his back soothingly and then they kiss again, Nick’s lips slick with the trails of errant tears, and he’s in love with the wet sounds Joe’s mouth makes against his own. Joe’s still sitting on the floor, holding him tight, and Nick drops his head to his brother’s shoulder, inhaling the cheap-fabric-softener smell of the Phoenix Laundry Palace where their mom washed their clothes last weekend.

“We can’t survive this again,” Joe says lowly, almost with a growl. Nick knows what he’s asking for but won’t accept it ‘til he’s sure, and the weight of the power placed in his hands makes him shiver.

“I know that,” he murmurs definitively against his brother’s neck, feeling Joe’s muscles relax against him for the first time in forever. “I don’t actually think I can do this without you, Joe. Any of it. Touring until the end of time, all the pressure from Dad - I can’t.”

Joe looks at him appraisingly, like he’s weighing something up, and then leans forward until their noses are less than an inch away from touching. “You promise this time?”

Nick nods fervently, clinging to his brother like a shipwrecked passenger to a piece of driftwood. “We’re in it together,” he says, voice shaky with emotion, “no questions asked.”

--

That night, past midnight, Joe sneaks into Nick’s bunk and kisses him awake, mouthing gently at his brother’s lips and cheeks and even his collarbone. When Nick opens his eyes he thinks he’s dreaming, but then he lifts up his hands and runs his fingers through Joe’s long, shaggy hair and knows this is real. Part of him wants Joe to just ravage him, take him right there, naked, glorified, not hiding behind buses and reaching beneath clothes, but he can’t. All he knows is that he’d much rather do it this way than not at all, because he can’t live without his brother, especially not when they’re living this life and maybe not ever. He loves him too much.

Nick sleeps shirtless in the summer, and when Joe kisses down to his nipples he almost wants to scream with how good it feels. He’s rutting shamelessly up against his brother already, even as he breathlessly implores him to stop.

“Why?” Joe moans into his skin, and Nick tugs at his hair, easing him upwards.

“I just want to enjoy you.”

Joe stares into his eyes for a few seconds, a light sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, pupils dilated as he tries to catch his breath. As they kiss again, Nick reaches down to grasp Joe’s hardness and Joe jolts against his body, making a small noise into Nick’s mouth before returning the favor.

Joe’s erection feels hard and familiar as Nick strokes him gently, taking his time because for once that’s something they can afford to do. He moves lazily with Joe’s touch, letting out little murmurs every time something feels particularly good. Their kisses are open-mouthed and sloppy, and their free hands keep running up and down each others’ bodies like they’re memorizing each other’s topographies. Joe rubs Nick’s tip gently and he gasps, tightening his hold on his brother as Joe’s accompanying motions become more and more insistent. Pretty soon it’s an effort to keep quiet, and Nick has to force himself to remember that they’re sharing a space with their family right now. He bites down on Joe’s lip and Joe growls his arousal, finding a rhythm Nick can keep to. Soon they’re rocking back and forth together, murmuring nonsensical phrases of endearment, and Nick buries his face in his brother’s shoulder and comes. Joe grunts deeply, biting at Nick’s skin and making desperate, guttural sounds until Nick’s wrist twists and he follows suit, spilling his load all over his younger brother’s hand.

Before they’ve even stopped panting for breath Joe traps Nick’s mouth in another bruising kiss, fingers tugging at his curls like every fantasy Nick’s ever had, every wet dream he wishes he hadn’t woken up from.

“I love you,” Joe whispers, and the press of his body feels exactly like home.

---<---<---@