Drabbles 2009 [January]
One of my admittedly few New Year's Resolutions for 2009, was to attempt to write a drabble (no more, no less than 100 words each piece) a day. These 31 pieces of drabble!fic represent this past month's efforts to actually keep a resolution... Plus there are some longer drabbles (250 words, each piece) at the bottom.
001 :-
Write a piece that is inspired by the following Shakespearian quote -
“The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices / make instruments to plague us.”
~ King Lear (5.3, 173-174)
He couldn't be certain when it was, precisely, that he'd begun to fantasise about his younger brother; knew only that he'd happily spend the hours of darkness lying in his bunk opposite Nick's, listening to the soft sounds of the boy's attempts at being discrete as he pleasured himself, allowing his own mind to conjure up images of his hands moving in place of his brother's. It had escalated to a point where Kevin could no longer meet Nick's eye; would feel tortured in his company, long for the lonely sounds of night in which he could believe in dreams...
002 :-
Write a piece that is inspired by what goes on, when the lights go out...
The ethereal glow from the screen of his laptop illuminating his face, Joe paused for a moment; listened to the gentle snores that Kevin emitted as he lay in his bed across the room. Reading back through what he had already written, Joe smiled, cracked his knuckles, felt vaguely pleased with himself. It was rare that he had an opportunity to indulge himself in such a way, and he wore dark circles beneath his eyes as testimony to the hours snatched from his sleep schedule. Only another 5,000 words, he thought, then he'd be done... a fully fledged NaNo winner.
003 :-
Write a piece in which your character has a deep, dark secret...
The bottle lived at the bottom of his carry on, jumbled amidst his iPod, the pages of whatever paperback novel he was reading at the time, the case for his contacts, a battered notebook in which he scrawled lyrics and random pieces of music that struck him. Although it was rare that he felt the need to remove the hidden bottle, twist off its lid, drink deeply of its contents, simply knowing it was there helped. Gave him comfort during moments of crisis; strength to carry on when his brothers became too much for one man to deal with alone.
004 :-
Write a piece in which your character is fleeing the authorities...
Denise was on the warpath. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, Kevin knew, for his mother to lose her patience with at least one of her four sons - surrounded by testosterone, submerged in its competitive, defiant depths, there was often no other recourse for her to take... but it was rare for her to have settled upon him, her firstborn, as a focus for her wrath. Clambering into the murky depths of Frankie's bunk, burying himself beneath the stuffed animals that adorned it, Kevin hoped it was the last place that his mother would look. That he would be safe there.
005 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:-
"For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."
~ William Shakespeare (Sonnet #147)
Nick wasn't the innocent he seemed. Joe knew first hand, after a lifetime of bitter experience, that if there was trouble to be had, then it was Nick who instigated it, and him who ended up being blamed for it. There was something about the slightly cherubic look to Nick's face that managed to convince everyone around them that he was completely innocent; that Joe had led him astray - talked him into shaving off half of Kevin's left eyebrow for example! It was always Joe who weathered the torrents of blame for Nick's misdemeanour's, but he didn't mind. Not really...
006 :-
Write a piece in which your character suffers from an extreme in temperature...
The ground beneath his feet was frozen. Winter had fallen quickly, destroyed the balminess of autumn with frost laden skies and early dusks, causing Kevin to forget how it felt to be warm. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his winter coat, his nose beneath the high collar, trying to keep himself from freezing, he trod across the delicately frosted grass, followed in Joe's wake as they made their way to the cars waiting for them in the driveway, the fog of his brother's breath ghosting back to envelop him damply as they carefully hurried towards their next engagement.
007 :-
Write a piece in which your character makes a sacrifice...
It wasn't easy, Nick thought; being the youngest in the group. Although he knew it was his talent that had attracted the attention of the record company that had originally signed them, he had always felt like the tag-a-long little brother and nothing more. Consequently, he'd gone out of his way to eradicate every trace of the scared, shy little boy he knew that he'd once been.. Had replaced the insecurities that other teenagers displayed, with confidence, intellectualism, devotion and morals. He'd ceased following after his brothers, begun to lead the way instead. Had sold his soul to impress them...
008 :-
Write a piece in which your character resolves some sexual tension...
He kept the book in the depths of his underwear drawer, shoved right to the back, buried beneath freshly laundered boxers, briefs and socks where no one but he was ever likely to find it. One of the books put out under their brand-name, purchased on-line and used in much the same way that Joe joked hundreds of their fans did; to fuel fantasies and seek secretive completion. There was one particular image that pushed Nick past the edge, however, printed on a dog-eared page against a broken spine - one of Kevin smiling that drove him further into orgasmic insanity.
009 :-
Write a piece from the point of view of a dead character.
'Heaven -,' Kevin vaguely remembered his great-aunt having once told him, 'is wherever, whatever, whoever made you the happiest whilst you were still living...'
Standing beneath an apple tree that he knew had been cut down fifty years earlier, shortly after Frankie's birth, watching as his brothers rough-housed in the middle of a yard upon which Kevin's great-grandson had told him now held a fancy apartment block, their bodies whole again, no longer mouldering in the graves that he had watched them slid into years before, he had to conclude that she was right.
That she had been right all along.
010 :-
Write a piece inspired by a photograph of some kind...
There was nothing that Kevin wouldn't do to keep Frankie safe. Almost a teenager at the time, Kevin had been the only one to fully understand the implications of the birth of his youngest brother; had been the only one who'd heard his parents' tears each time that they'd lost a pregnancy prior to that which gave them Frankie.
Knowing how precious Frankie was to them, understanding how he'd been their final chance to complete the large family that they'd always wanted, meant that Kevin assumed more responsibility for him than Joe or Nick ever had.
Not that he objected.
011 :-
Write from the point of view of a lesser character.
It was a sin, Garbo knew, as far as Joe were concerned. Their feelings for one another, emotions that transcended all others that either had ever before felt, were wrong. Would result in one, or both of them ending their mortal lives roasting in the furnaces of Hell.
It didn't help, he thought, that Kevin was his closest friend on the road, the bond that they shared twisted only by one lie - his relationship with Joe. Whenever Kevin questioned him as to the source of his misery, Garbo knew that he couldn't be honest; couldn't tell him; “Joe”.
012 :-
Write a piece in which a canon break-up is put back together again.
“I don't understand,” Kevin said slowly. “I thought you hated her.”
Nick looked uncomfortable. “No,” he said quietly. “That was you and Joe who hated her. Not me. I loved her. Still do, as it happens.”
“And that's why...?”
“Yes.”
“I only hope that you know what you're doing, brother mine!”
A smile twitched at a corner of Nick's mouth as he thought of Miley; remembered the adoration in her eyes when she looked at him. The way she made him feel. The way that she tasted.“Yeah,” he said smiling. “I do...”
013 :-
Write a piece involving chocolate.
There were times when Kevin wondered whether Joe thought him truly stupid.
Standing in the middle of their bedroom, hands on hips, glowering at his brother, Kevin knew full well that this... was one of those moments where Joe obviously deemed him too dense to disbelieve the words that spilled from his lips.
“Joe,” Kevin broke firmly into the lies that were being told. “I know you ate my chocolate.”
“What?” Joe stared at him. “Don't be pathetic! Of course I didn't -,”
Stifling a sigh, Kevin arched one eyebrow. “Joe, it's all round your mouth...”
014 :-
Write a piece in which your character has been ripped off...
The Lamborghini drove awkwardly. The pedals stuck and the engine sounded as though it were slowly dying whenever Kevin tried to push it towards anything even remotely resembling the speed limit - which only served to make him miserable.
“C'mon, you have to return it!”
Joe's words made sense, and yet... it was meant to have been his twenty-first birthday present. He'd paid for half of it, begged his parents to pay for the rest, the only car that he had ever truly craved to own. Admitting that it had been a mistake, that it didn't drive properly... truly hurt.
015 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:
"That those who falter and those who fall,
Must pay the price."
~ Javert, "Stars"
He felt nauseous.
“It's not mine!” he insisted. “I... we never...”
“We know,” Denise said softly, relief shadowing her voice as she reached for his hand. “We didn't think that you would.”
“Anyone who knows you wouldn't think that of you,” Paul added from his seat on the couch. “But Taylor's people seem determined to have this rumour attached to you. We've already tried to kill it.”
Bile rose at the back of his throat at his father's inadvertent word choice. He thought of the baby growing inside of his ex-girlfriend; felt only loathing.
016 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:
"Things have dropped from me. I have outlived certain desires; I have lost friends..."
~ Virginia Woolf
Joe wanted to go home. To the family that had cast him out for confessing his sin of craving to taste his brother's neck as he thrust into his body... To the parents who had hurled insults and vile abuse at him whilst he'd packed a solitary bag, tears streaming down his cheeks, prepared to leave the only home that he'd ever known. To the brothers whom he'd once believed would support him no matter what, but who had abandoned him upon their parents command. If he lied, claimed that he'd changed, maybe then they would allow him to return...
017 :-
Write a piece that includes a mythological element of some kind.
“It's just a pile of old stones!”
One eyebrow incredulously raised, Kevin turned to look at Joe's disgusted face; wondered how it were possible for them to actually be related. He couldn't understand how Joe could dislike history so much, could refuse to trust it in any way, shape or form. Their trip to Stonehenge had simply proven Joe's ignorance.
“It's more than that,” he said, turning back . “Much more.”
Joe snorted in scepticism. “It's a pile of old stones!”
“It represents the start of mankind's consciousness.” Kevin argued, despite knowing it was pointless...
018 :-
Write a piece about a holiday.
The beach wasn't Nick's favourite place to be. He didn't like the way the sand shifted beneath his feet, or the irritating feel of it against his skin when it clung after he'd been in the water. He didn't like the fact that the sun was too hot on his shoulders, that his Mom made him wear a shirt to prevent him from burning - but allowed Kevin and Joe to wander around shirtless - and he hated the fact that there was virtually nothing to do there, except stand knee-deep in the cool water and watch the paparazzi as they swarmed...
019 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:
"When you gonna love you, as much as I do?"
~ Tori Amos, "Winter"
It broke Joe's heart to realise that Nick couldn't see how beautiful he truly was. The break-up with Miley had done little for his fragile conception of himself, had caused Nick to doubt his own ability to be the person whom Joe knew he was, deep inside. Every time that he witnessed sorrow flow through the depths of Nick's eyes, Joe wanted to rage against the bitter world that had put it there; that had made him feel that way. He wanted to take Nick's misery and break it apart until the younger boy understood how perfect he really was...
020 :-
Write a piece relating to sex in some way, from hand-holding to the act itself.
Sweat seeped into his eyes, stinging sharply, contrasting against the pressure building within his gut, surrounding him as he moved insistently within the body below him. Nails scraped against the flesh of his back, vicious with passion, and his ears rang with the soft whines of pleasure as he pushed them rapidly to the point of no return.
He was aware only of the purpose to their actions, the way in which the sound of his name being choked out in delighted surprise as semen splashed against his abdomen and chest drove Joe into hazy insanity in Nick's panting wake...
021 :-
Write a piece in which someone dies.
The bullet had been meant for him.
Joe knew that. Understood that it was supposed to have been him who lay breathless and still against the ground, his blood that was meant to have pooled below his body, to scent the air with its metallic tang...
His corpse that should have lain in the City morgue.
He had no idea how it had happened; remembered only screams filling his eardrums, soiling his brain, before the harsh shove of hands against his back and the retort of the gun being fired.
His mother giving her life to save her beloved son's.
022 :-
Write a piece using a previous prompt (1 - 21)
Past Prompt - 011
She would never forgive him. Would never truly understand the casual disregard that he felt for her feelings, the lack of respect that he'd shown her when she had finally tracked him down, finally worked up the anger necessary for her to face him. She would never forget the way in which he had neglected to meet her eye, murmured clichéd platitudes meant to soften her fury, to convince her to trust him.
That he knew what he was doing.
Shaking her head angrily, Denise knew that Joe was too naïve to fully comprehend the damage that he had caused.
023 :-
Write a piece using "He took a weary step forward into the harsh sunlight..." as the (uncounted) first line.
He took a weary step forward into the harsh sunlight, squinting as he peered across the field in which the bus had been parked, towards his brothers who half-heartedly kicked a soccer ball between them. He couldn't be certain as to how long he'd slept, curled into the womb-like cocoon of his bunk, but Kevin knew from the expressions upon Joe and Nick's faces that boredom had struck; claimed them for its own amusement. Sighing heavily, he began to walk towards them, determined to organise them into some semblance of occupation and fun. Adamant that they were going to enjoy themselves, even if he had to beat them into submission...
024 :-
Write a piece in which your character is having their photograph taken...
The mechanical click and whirr of a camera shutter shifting was familiar against Nick's ears and he shifted sleepily; rolled over onto his front on the mattress and cracked open an eye to glower up at Joe's smiling face. “Sleeping!”
“No, you're grousing -,” Joe said brightly. “Which is totally different, by the way...”
Nick's glower became a scowl as he watched Joe raise the camera once more, ready to capture another unwanted image of him. “Fuck off!”
“Not until you ask me nicely.”
“Please?”
Smiling, Joe leant forwards; took another photograph of their kiss...
025 :-
Write a piece using the word "fear" as your starting point.
Joe couldn't be certain when he'd realised that Kevin and Nick were together. All he could remember was the way in which his heart had shattered into several dozen pieces, the terror that had consumed him as he'd realised that, after a lifetime of being between them, his presence there was no longer required.
They shared secrets together of which he had no part; smiles and private jokes which he could not understand... was not meant to. Watching them together, despite knowing how beautiful they were as a pair, he hated them for the way that they'd made him feel.
026 :-
Write a piece using "The feeling of the barrel of the gun on his skin was enough to make his heart stop beating..." as either the first (uncounted) or the last (uncounted) line.
The feeling of the barrel of the gun on his skin was enough to make his heart stop beating...Blinking rapidly, trying to control his breathing, he focused his gaze on the terrified features of his younger brother; tried to telepathically communicate with Joe that everything was going to be just fine...
He knew without understanding how he knew though, that Taylor was going to pull the trigger; send a bullet ricocheting into his brain... That she was going to kill him. Because she blamed him.
All that Kevin could hope was that his end came quickly - and that she would spare Joe's life. That someone would rescue his brother before it was too late for them both...
027 :-
Write a piece in which a minor character is the focus of the piece.
Denise often wondered whether the secret she'd kept close to her heart would ever come to light. Whether someone might look at her child and glimpse something within him that spoke of a truth so dreadful that she'd wasted years praying for a forgiveness that she knew wouldn't happen. Whenever she looked into her son's face, she felt a peculiar mixture of emotions - remembered shame at what had been done. Yet... she loved him with every ounce of her being. Sometimes, she asked herself in the midst of night, whether Paul knew, had guessed that Kevin wasn't truly his son...
028 :-
Write about something unsettling.
The thought of Joe with Garbo made Kevin's stomach twist and churn in anxiety. Standing quietly to one side of the dressing room, watching the way in which they playfully shoved at one another whilst battling it out on the games-console, he frowned; wondered at their easy familiarity with one another. He'd never known Garbo be so quick to laugh for anyone else - not even for him, supposedly one of his closest friends... and Kevin knew, instinctively, that Joe's smile had more to do about secrets that he was hiding from his older brother than anything else.
Than mere friendship.
029 :-
Write a piece involving a non-canon relationship.
Charlie's hair was thick with sweat, stood on end from where Kevin had sleepily carded his fingers through it as they lay, post-coitally quiet on the bed in the motel room. Outside, they could hear the distant drone of traffic, but inside... there was only the soft, sweet sound of their breathing.
“D'you ever wonder how it'd be if we'd never met?”
The question startled Kevin and he lifted his head; eyed the older man with curiosity. “If... What?”
“If James hadn't let you tape our songs.” Charlie met his gaze stoically. “He almost didn't, y'know...”
030 :-
Write a piece in which everything is not lost.
Nick had always believed in hope.
It was difficult not to at least attempt to look on the bright side of whatever dark situation he'd found himself submerged in, given that his oldest brother was an eternal optimist, that Joe was constantly seeking the laughter hidden in the very depths of his soul. Yet there were times when Nick found himself tempted to slam doors and sulk, to argue against everything happening for a reason, and that which didn't kill him, only serving to make him stronger... But he couldn't.
They'd taught him to cling to the brightness too well.
031 :-
Write a piece involving angst.
“I don't think I can do it anymore.”
Bewilderment seeping through him, Kevin turned to stare at Joe's face; took in the unusual pallor to his skin, the damp sheen of sweat upon his brow, the desperate terror that illuminated his eyes. He felt sick. Realised that his brother was breaking apart before his eyes.
“I can't do it, Kevin... don't make me. Please!”
He reacted instinctively, stretched out a hand to curve it about Joe's wrist, tugged him into a tight embrace. “It's okay -,” he soothed. “It's okay, Joe.”
But he knew that it wasn't.
Bonus Drabbles For January:-
001:- "New Year's..."
Barely three hours into the New Year, and already Joe was wishing that it were over. He sat alone on the wide window sill, staring sightlessly out into the crisp early morning air, trying to understand, to decipher the information that he had been given whilst standing on an open-topped bus with his brothers, surrounded by cheering people, confetti raining down upon them all in celebration.
'I'll ruin you -,' she had told him once, months earlier; before the public relations nightmare of their relationship's end had occurred. 'If ever you hurt me, Joe Jonas, I will fucking ruin you!'
At the time, he'd laughed; thought that she was fooling around, trying to scare him, had refused to believe that she could ever hurt him, in any way... but scant weeks later, he knew that he'd been a fool. Realised with the perfect vision of hindsight that he ought to have heeded her soft-spoken warning; at least considered the damage that she could wreck.
“Joe, come back to bed!”
Blinking rapidly at the drowsy sound of Nick's voice, he turned his head; glanced back towards the bed that they shared, the mound of blankets that concealed his brother, his lover from immediate sight. How, he wondered, could he have been so stupid? One moment of insanity, a decision made out of guilt, and not only would he suffer the consequences of his own irresponsible behaviour... but Nick would, too.
Whether the baby was his, or not, it would destroy them...
002:- "Gorgeous."
“Try to understand -,”
Joe rolled his eyes theatrically. “Let me guess... it's not you; it's me?”
“Yeah, that's...” Eyes narrowed, Garbo's voice faltered as his mind processed precisely what Joe had said. His mouth curving into a frown, he shook his head; stared at Joe as though he'd never seen him before.
As though they hadn't spent seven and a half months fucking at every opportunity that came their way, sneaking kisses whenever they could, lying through their back teeth in order to continue their clandestine affair.
“Joe...”
He shook his head, scowled pettishly. “Oh, don't give me any more of your bollocks, Garb. Credit me with a little bloody sense, would you?”
“But it's not you!” Garbo insisted. “Look, Joe, I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for the fact that I've... that we've...”
“What? Run our course? Reached our natural conclusion?” Joe suggested, then; “What, Garbo? Fucking what?”
For a moment, Garbo was silent; watched Joe closely whilst chewing on his lower lip. When he spoke, his voice trembled with sadness. “It's not that I don't want to be with you, Joe -,”
“Yeah,” Joe snorted in disdain. “Right!”
“Oh, come on, Joe! Who wouldn't want to be with you? You're fucking gorgeous both inside and out!”
Joe's eyes narrowed. “Then why don't you want me anymore?”
“Because I've been warned off,” Garbo snapped out. “Alright? Kevin fucking warned me off you!”
003:- "Water."
Sunshine illuminated the soft auburn tint of Nick's hair, almost dazzling Kevin with the way in which it shaded his brother's eyes; helped to change them from ordinary brown to a shade that was almost tawny in colour as he ducked through the spray of water from the lawn sprinklers, turning his head to cackle at the pursuing Joe as he did so. Smiling Silently, Kevin leant against the frame of the front door, tried to inhale past the sudden lump that had risen at the back of his throat, the erratic pounding of his heart as he watched his younger siblings playing tag through the sprinklers spray, across their father's beloved, cherished, prized lawns.
It was rare that Joe and Nick had the opportunity to behave like the teenagers that they actually were, he thought, grinning as Joe clumsily tackled Nick to the ground, scrubbing his knuckles through the sodden mass of his hair, laughing maniacally as Nick screeched in outrage. Normalcy was a treat so often denied to the brothers that when a chance to grasp it in both hands arose, they did precisely that - and chasing one another through the sprinklers beneath the burning heat of a summer's sun was a ritual that they'd carried with them from boyhood.
Yet Kevin couldn't deny the fact that Nick no longer resembled a gawky boy as he ducked and weaved through the droplets of chilled water. Shirtless and drenched, he was nothing less than a demi-God in the making.
004:- "Cold".
(i)
It had started as a simple cold. A viral infection that Frankie had picked up, helpfully shared amongst the rest of the family and crew, failed to recover from.
Sitting alone in the front seat of his car, hands clenched tight about the steering wheel, Kevin found himself remembering how his youngest brother had continued to cough and splutter for weeks, long after they had all recovered, had grown paler and weaker with each day that passed until their parents had insisted that he see a doctor.
Even then, Kevin had thought that Frankie would be prescribed a course of antibiotics, that within a short time he would be back to normal. He'd never imagined, even for the slightest of seconds, that his baby brother might actually be ill. That his body might be ravaged by a disease so malicious that it had wrecked its damage in secret whilst they all presumed it was something less serious...
There was a soft knock against the window beside him, distracting him from his bitter, hurt thoughts, and Kevin turned to lower the glass that held him apart from his uncle.
“It's time, Kevin...”
Nodding his head, breathing deeply, Kevin turned his head back to look out across the cemetery where a cluster of dark suited mourners were waiting for him to join them. In their midst, a child-sized coffin stood with a bouquet of daisies balanced upon its sealed lid, its occupant the one who was supposed to outlive them all...
(ii)
Staring down into the grave where Frankie would remain, at the clumps of soil that they had reverently, quietly, furiously scattered onto the lid of the coffin, Joe knew that he would never forgive God for stealing him away from them.
For months, he had seethed at the cruelty of a God whom he'd been raised to believe was merciful, loving, benign, as he had watched his brother's body be ravaged by a disease that they had not understood to begin with, had quickly become desperate experts as they had sought for an elusive cure. He had bitten down on the tip of his tongue so many times in frustration at the pitying words of the consultants, specialists, doctors who had tried to convince them that no amount of money in the world, no abuse of their celebrity could make Frankie well again, that the muscle felt numb, too large for his mouth.
Obscure...
Joe had donated pints of his own blood, uselessly bargained with the malicious God who had chosen to ignore the family's prayers for mercy, watched as the little boy had writhed in agony on his hospital bed, sobbed like the baby he had truly still been, until Frankie's death had actually been a blessing. But he would never forgive what had happened, the devastating loss of the one person whose adoration of Joe had actually been something to be proud of.
He knew that he could not believe in any God that could be so cruel.
(iii)
Crouching down by the side of the open grave, the murmurs of the other mourners drifting away from him as they returned to the cars which would carry them away, back to his family's once happy home, Nick closed his eyes for a moment.
Tried to remember Frankie's smile.
Felt tears prickle sharply at the backs of his eyes as he realised that he couldn't. That his only clear memory of his brother's face was of it contorted in agony as the drugs were pumped into his body in an effort to eradicate the disease which had destroyed them all. Struggling to control his misery, still determined to be strong for his little brother, Nick breathed unsteadily, bowed his head and fought back the scream that bubbled within him.
The noise of horror that had twisted and writhed within him since the day of Frankie's diagnosis when they had realised the fight that the smallest, most vulnerable member of their family faced, simply to survive.
Nick had lost count of the prayers that he'd murmured, the pleas that he'd made for it to be him instead of Frankie who died, the silent tears that he had shed at the very notion of a world in which he would never again feel annoyed by his younger sibling. He could not even begin to comprehend the futility of a life without Frankie, knew only that his death had begun to separate them all as they struggled to deal with his loss alone...
005:- "Radio".
Somewhere in the background, music played. Leaning his head back, tilting his neck until he could stare up at the inside of the car's roof, Nick tried to collect his thoughts. To gather his courage enough to open the driver's door and step out into the midst of a situation that he was certain he would never be able to put back together again.
Sighing heavily, turning his head, he peered through the rain splattered glass beside him; watched as Kevin and Joe squared up to one another on the lawn, their clothes splattered with the mud which they'd kicked up in their initial struggle, their furious tangle of limbs, shoving hands, vicious words which he knew neither actually meant.
All because of a moment's insanity where he had allowed himself to lose control, to give in to the baser instincts which he'd spent what seemed like an entire lifetime fighting to ignore.
Because he'd kissed Joe.
Because Kevin had stumbled out into the rain when the car had pulled up onto the drive, and they hadn't hurried inside, his face illuminated with concern until he had caught a glimpse of them together; had realised what had happened, had instantly shifted into a rage that Nick could not begin to comprehend.
He hadn't known that Joe was with Kevin.
Understood only that had they trusted him enough to tell him, to confide in him the secret of their relationship... he would not have placed his lips against those of Joe.
006:- "Smell"
His nose wrinkling, Kevin tentatively sniffed the air as he heard the soft snick of the hotel room's door closing behind him, as he listened to the sounds of slumber that drifted towards him from the bed that his brothers shared. The quiet rumble of Joe's snoring, the muted shifting of Nick's limbs beneath the tangle of linen that covered them both.
The musky aroma was unmistakably carnal, spoke darkly to him of secrets hidden from plain view; touches shared and desperation borne of close contact with no one but each other, for far too long, and he sighed wearily. Felt consumed by gratitude and grief that he had managed to catch Denise at the end of the hallway, on her way to intercept his brothers rest, before she had been the one to discover their darkest secret in such a haphazardly cruel way.
Standing beside the bed, looking down at their resting forms, he watched them for a moment. Inhaled the scent of their sex, their mingled sweat, the sharper tang of semen ejaculated onto damp skin that permeated the air; wondered at their need for one another. Whether their desire to consume and be consumed by their lust had led to their reckless abandon of common sense.
To their near discovery.
A scowl twisting his face, Kevin bent down; shook Joe's shoulder with force until the younger man opened his eyes.
“Kevin...?”
“Get in the shower,” Kevin snapped, glaring down in disgust. “You fucking reek!”
007:- "Sleep"
Perhaps it was the time he'd spent working on Broadway, or maybe it was the constant battle that his body faced to regulate its glucose, but Nick had always been able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. It had long been a family joke that, if necessary, he'd be able to doze whilst standing upright, in the midst of a noisy crowd... a point of amused pride amongst them, a source of vague teasing amongst the hustle of their daily lives.
Watching over Nick as he slumbered on the cushions of the bus' coach, his body curled innocently against his side, Joe wondered if his younger brother realised how deeply he envied him the knack. The ability that he held to cat nap as, when and where he needed to. For weeks, ever since the tour had started, Joe had coveted sleep as though it were something rare. As though he were a blind man who craved sight, or a starving man who dreamed of bread. He physically ached from lack of rest, found himself snappy and petulant because of it, almost loathed himself for taking his tiredness out on others. But he couldn't seem to help himself.
Found himself drawn to linger by Nick's oblivious side as he slept, in the hope that it would leech into his own self. That he might develop the same knack of closing his eyes and instantly drifting into dreams if only he could watch Nick do it often enough.
001 :-
Write a piece that is inspired by the following Shakespearian quote -
“The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices / make instruments to plague us.”
~ King Lear (5.3, 173-174)
He couldn't be certain when it was, precisely, that he'd begun to fantasise about his younger brother; knew only that he'd happily spend the hours of darkness lying in his bunk opposite Nick's, listening to the soft sounds of the boy's attempts at being discrete as he pleasured himself, allowing his own mind to conjure up images of his hands moving in place of his brother's. It had escalated to a point where Kevin could no longer meet Nick's eye; would feel tortured in his company, long for the lonely sounds of night in which he could believe in dreams...
002 :-
Write a piece that is inspired by what goes on, when the lights go out...
The ethereal glow from the screen of his laptop illuminating his face, Joe paused for a moment; listened to the gentle snores that Kevin emitted as he lay in his bed across the room. Reading back through what he had already written, Joe smiled, cracked his knuckles, felt vaguely pleased with himself. It was rare that he had an opportunity to indulge himself in such a way, and he wore dark circles beneath his eyes as testimony to the hours snatched from his sleep schedule. Only another 5,000 words, he thought, then he'd be done... a fully fledged NaNo winner.
003 :-
Write a piece in which your character has a deep, dark secret...
The bottle lived at the bottom of his carry on, jumbled amidst his iPod, the pages of whatever paperback novel he was reading at the time, the case for his contacts, a battered notebook in which he scrawled lyrics and random pieces of music that struck him. Although it was rare that he felt the need to remove the hidden bottle, twist off its lid, drink deeply of its contents, simply knowing it was there helped. Gave him comfort during moments of crisis; strength to carry on when his brothers became too much for one man to deal with alone.
004 :-
Write a piece in which your character is fleeing the authorities...
Denise was on the warpath. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, Kevin knew, for his mother to lose her patience with at least one of her four sons - surrounded by testosterone, submerged in its competitive, defiant depths, there was often no other recourse for her to take... but it was rare for her to have settled upon him, her firstborn, as a focus for her wrath. Clambering into the murky depths of Frankie's bunk, burying himself beneath the stuffed animals that adorned it, Kevin hoped it was the last place that his mother would look. That he would be safe there.
005 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:-
"For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright,
Who art as black as hell, as dark as night."
~ William Shakespeare (Sonnet #147)
Nick wasn't the innocent he seemed. Joe knew first hand, after a lifetime of bitter experience, that if there was trouble to be had, then it was Nick who instigated it, and him who ended up being blamed for it. There was something about the slightly cherubic look to Nick's face that managed to convince everyone around them that he was completely innocent; that Joe had led him astray - talked him into shaving off half of Kevin's left eyebrow for example! It was always Joe who weathered the torrents of blame for Nick's misdemeanour's, but he didn't mind. Not really...
006 :-
Write a piece in which your character suffers from an extreme in temperature...
The ground beneath his feet was frozen. Winter had fallen quickly, destroyed the balminess of autumn with frost laden skies and early dusks, causing Kevin to forget how it felt to be warm. Tucking his hands into the pockets of his winter coat, his nose beneath the high collar, trying to keep himself from freezing, he trod across the delicately frosted grass, followed in Joe's wake as they made their way to the cars waiting for them in the driveway, the fog of his brother's breath ghosting back to envelop him damply as they carefully hurried towards their next engagement.
007 :-
Write a piece in which your character makes a sacrifice...
It wasn't easy, Nick thought; being the youngest in the group. Although he knew it was his talent that had attracted the attention of the record company that had originally signed them, he had always felt like the tag-a-long little brother and nothing more. Consequently, he'd gone out of his way to eradicate every trace of the scared, shy little boy he knew that he'd once been.. Had replaced the insecurities that other teenagers displayed, with confidence, intellectualism, devotion and morals. He'd ceased following after his brothers, begun to lead the way instead. Had sold his soul to impress them...
008 :-
Write a piece in which your character resolves some sexual tension...
He kept the book in the depths of his underwear drawer, shoved right to the back, buried beneath freshly laundered boxers, briefs and socks where no one but he was ever likely to find it. One of the books put out under their brand-name, purchased on-line and used in much the same way that Joe joked hundreds of their fans did; to fuel fantasies and seek secretive completion. There was one particular image that pushed Nick past the edge, however, printed on a dog-eared page against a broken spine - one of Kevin smiling that drove him further into orgasmic insanity.
009 :-
Write a piece from the point of view of a dead character.
'Heaven -,' Kevin vaguely remembered his great-aunt having once told him, 'is wherever, whatever, whoever made you the happiest whilst you were still living...'
Standing beneath an apple tree that he knew had been cut down fifty years earlier, shortly after Frankie's birth, watching as his brothers rough-housed in the middle of a yard upon which Kevin's great-grandson had told him now held a fancy apartment block, their bodies whole again, no longer mouldering in the graves that he had watched them slid into years before, he had to conclude that she was right.
That she had been right all along.
010 :-
Write a piece inspired by a photograph of some kind...
There was nothing that Kevin wouldn't do to keep Frankie safe. Almost a teenager at the time, Kevin had been the only one to fully understand the implications of the birth of his youngest brother; had been the only one who'd heard his parents' tears each time that they'd lost a pregnancy prior to that which gave them Frankie.
Knowing how precious Frankie was to them, understanding how he'd been their final chance to complete the large family that they'd always wanted, meant that Kevin assumed more responsibility for him than Joe or Nick ever had.
Not that he objected.
011 :-
Write from the point of view of a lesser character.
It was a sin, Garbo knew, as far as Joe were concerned. Their feelings for one another, emotions that transcended all others that either had ever before felt, were wrong. Would result in one, or both of them ending their mortal lives roasting in the furnaces of Hell.
It didn't help, he thought, that Kevin was his closest friend on the road, the bond that they shared twisted only by one lie - his relationship with Joe. Whenever Kevin questioned him as to the source of his misery, Garbo knew that he couldn't be honest; couldn't tell him; “Joe”.
012 :-
Write a piece in which a canon break-up is put back together again.
“I don't understand,” Kevin said slowly. “I thought you hated her.”
Nick looked uncomfortable. “No,” he said quietly. “That was you and Joe who hated her. Not me. I loved her. Still do, as it happens.”
“And that's why...?”
“Yes.”
“I only hope that you know what you're doing, brother mine!”
A smile twitched at a corner of Nick's mouth as he thought of Miley; remembered the adoration in her eyes when she looked at him. The way she made him feel. The way that she tasted.“Yeah,” he said smiling. “I do...”
013 :-
Write a piece involving chocolate.
There were times when Kevin wondered whether Joe thought him truly stupid.
Standing in the middle of their bedroom, hands on hips, glowering at his brother, Kevin knew full well that this... was one of those moments where Joe obviously deemed him too dense to disbelieve the words that spilled from his lips.
“Joe,” Kevin broke firmly into the lies that were being told. “I know you ate my chocolate.”
“What?” Joe stared at him. “Don't be pathetic! Of course I didn't -,”
Stifling a sigh, Kevin arched one eyebrow. “Joe, it's all round your mouth...”
014 :-
Write a piece in which your character has been ripped off...
The Lamborghini drove awkwardly. The pedals stuck and the engine sounded as though it were slowly dying whenever Kevin tried to push it towards anything even remotely resembling the speed limit - which only served to make him miserable.
“C'mon, you have to return it!”
Joe's words made sense, and yet... it was meant to have been his twenty-first birthday present. He'd paid for half of it, begged his parents to pay for the rest, the only car that he had ever truly craved to own. Admitting that it had been a mistake, that it didn't drive properly... truly hurt.
015 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:
"That those who falter and those who fall,
Must pay the price."
~ Javert, "Stars"
He felt nauseous.
“It's not mine!” he insisted. “I... we never...”
“We know,” Denise said softly, relief shadowing her voice as she reached for his hand. “We didn't think that you would.”
“Anyone who knows you wouldn't think that of you,” Paul added from his seat on the couch. “But Taylor's people seem determined to have this rumour attached to you. We've already tried to kill it.”
Bile rose at the back of his throat at his father's inadvertent word choice. He thought of the baby growing inside of his ex-girlfriend; felt only loathing.
016 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:
"Things have dropped from me. I have outlived certain desires; I have lost friends..."
~ Virginia Woolf
Joe wanted to go home. To the family that had cast him out for confessing his sin of craving to taste his brother's neck as he thrust into his body... To the parents who had hurled insults and vile abuse at him whilst he'd packed a solitary bag, tears streaming down his cheeks, prepared to leave the only home that he'd ever known. To the brothers whom he'd once believed would support him no matter what, but who had abandoned him upon their parents command. If he lied, claimed that he'd changed, maybe then they would allow him to return...
017 :-
Write a piece that includes a mythological element of some kind.
“It's just a pile of old stones!”
One eyebrow incredulously raised, Kevin turned to look at Joe's disgusted face; wondered how it were possible for them to actually be related. He couldn't understand how Joe could dislike history so much, could refuse to trust it in any way, shape or form. Their trip to Stonehenge had simply proven Joe's ignorance.
“It's more than that,” he said, turning back . “Much more.”
Joe snorted in scepticism. “It's a pile of old stones!”
“It represents the start of mankind's consciousness.” Kevin argued, despite knowing it was pointless...
018 :-
Write a piece about a holiday.
The beach wasn't Nick's favourite place to be. He didn't like the way the sand shifted beneath his feet, or the irritating feel of it against his skin when it clung after he'd been in the water. He didn't like the fact that the sun was too hot on his shoulders, that his Mom made him wear a shirt to prevent him from burning - but allowed Kevin and Joe to wander around shirtless - and he hated the fact that there was virtually nothing to do there, except stand knee-deep in the cool water and watch the paparazzi as they swarmed...
019 :-
Write a piece inspired by the following quote:
"When you gonna love you, as much as I do?"
~ Tori Amos, "Winter"
It broke Joe's heart to realise that Nick couldn't see how beautiful he truly was. The break-up with Miley had done little for his fragile conception of himself, had caused Nick to doubt his own ability to be the person whom Joe knew he was, deep inside. Every time that he witnessed sorrow flow through the depths of Nick's eyes, Joe wanted to rage against the bitter world that had put it there; that had made him feel that way. He wanted to take Nick's misery and break it apart until the younger boy understood how perfect he really was...
020 :-
Write a piece relating to sex in some way, from hand-holding to the act itself.
Sweat seeped into his eyes, stinging sharply, contrasting against the pressure building within his gut, surrounding him as he moved insistently within the body below him. Nails scraped against the flesh of his back, vicious with passion, and his ears rang with the soft whines of pleasure as he pushed them rapidly to the point of no return.
He was aware only of the purpose to their actions, the way in which the sound of his name being choked out in delighted surprise as semen splashed against his abdomen and chest drove Joe into hazy insanity in Nick's panting wake...
021 :-
Write a piece in which someone dies.
The bullet had been meant for him.
Joe knew that. Understood that it was supposed to have been him who lay breathless and still against the ground, his blood that was meant to have pooled below his body, to scent the air with its metallic tang...
His corpse that should have lain in the City morgue.
He had no idea how it had happened; remembered only screams filling his eardrums, soiling his brain, before the harsh shove of hands against his back and the retort of the gun being fired.
His mother giving her life to save her beloved son's.
022 :-
Write a piece using a previous prompt (1 - 21)
Past Prompt - 011
She would never forgive him. Would never truly understand the casual disregard that he felt for her feelings, the lack of respect that he'd shown her when she had finally tracked him down, finally worked up the anger necessary for her to face him. She would never forget the way in which he had neglected to meet her eye, murmured clichéd platitudes meant to soften her fury, to convince her to trust him.
That he knew what he was doing.
Shaking her head angrily, Denise knew that Joe was too naïve to fully comprehend the damage that he had caused.
023 :-
Write a piece using "He took a weary step forward into the harsh sunlight..." as the (uncounted) first line.
He took a weary step forward into the harsh sunlight, squinting as he peered across the field in which the bus had been parked, towards his brothers who half-heartedly kicked a soccer ball between them. He couldn't be certain as to how long he'd slept, curled into the womb-like cocoon of his bunk, but Kevin knew from the expressions upon Joe and Nick's faces that boredom had struck; claimed them for its own amusement. Sighing heavily, he began to walk towards them, determined to organise them into some semblance of occupation and fun. Adamant that they were going to enjoy themselves, even if he had to beat them into submission...
024 :-
Write a piece in which your character is having their photograph taken...
The mechanical click and whirr of a camera shutter shifting was familiar against Nick's ears and he shifted sleepily; rolled over onto his front on the mattress and cracked open an eye to glower up at Joe's smiling face. “Sleeping!”
“No, you're grousing -,” Joe said brightly. “Which is totally different, by the way...”
Nick's glower became a scowl as he watched Joe raise the camera once more, ready to capture another unwanted image of him. “Fuck off!”
“Not until you ask me nicely.”
“Please?”
Smiling, Joe leant forwards; took another photograph of their kiss...
025 :-
Write a piece using the word "fear" as your starting point.
Joe couldn't be certain when he'd realised that Kevin and Nick were together. All he could remember was the way in which his heart had shattered into several dozen pieces, the terror that had consumed him as he'd realised that, after a lifetime of being between them, his presence there was no longer required.
They shared secrets together of which he had no part; smiles and private jokes which he could not understand... was not meant to. Watching them together, despite knowing how beautiful they were as a pair, he hated them for the way that they'd made him feel.
026 :-
Write a piece using "The feeling of the barrel of the gun on his skin was enough to make his heart stop beating..." as either the first (uncounted) or the last (uncounted) line.
The feeling of the barrel of the gun on his skin was enough to make his heart stop beating...Blinking rapidly, trying to control his breathing, he focused his gaze on the terrified features of his younger brother; tried to telepathically communicate with Joe that everything was going to be just fine...
He knew without understanding how he knew though, that Taylor was going to pull the trigger; send a bullet ricocheting into his brain... That she was going to kill him. Because she blamed him.
All that Kevin could hope was that his end came quickly - and that she would spare Joe's life. That someone would rescue his brother before it was too late for them both...
027 :-
Write a piece in which a minor character is the focus of the piece.
Denise often wondered whether the secret she'd kept close to her heart would ever come to light. Whether someone might look at her child and glimpse something within him that spoke of a truth so dreadful that she'd wasted years praying for a forgiveness that she knew wouldn't happen. Whenever she looked into her son's face, she felt a peculiar mixture of emotions - remembered shame at what had been done. Yet... she loved him with every ounce of her being. Sometimes, she asked herself in the midst of night, whether Paul knew, had guessed that Kevin wasn't truly his son...
028 :-
Write about something unsettling.
The thought of Joe with Garbo made Kevin's stomach twist and churn in anxiety. Standing quietly to one side of the dressing room, watching the way in which they playfully shoved at one another whilst battling it out on the games-console, he frowned; wondered at their easy familiarity with one another. He'd never known Garbo be so quick to laugh for anyone else - not even for him, supposedly one of his closest friends... and Kevin knew, instinctively, that Joe's smile had more to do about secrets that he was hiding from his older brother than anything else.
Than mere friendship.
029 :-
Write a piece involving a non-canon relationship.
Charlie's hair was thick with sweat, stood on end from where Kevin had sleepily carded his fingers through it as they lay, post-coitally quiet on the bed in the motel room. Outside, they could hear the distant drone of traffic, but inside... there was only the soft, sweet sound of their breathing.
“D'you ever wonder how it'd be if we'd never met?”
The question startled Kevin and he lifted his head; eyed the older man with curiosity. “If... What?”
“If James hadn't let you tape our songs.” Charlie met his gaze stoically. “He almost didn't, y'know...”
030 :-
Write a piece in which everything is not lost.
Nick had always believed in hope.
It was difficult not to at least attempt to look on the bright side of whatever dark situation he'd found himself submerged in, given that his oldest brother was an eternal optimist, that Joe was constantly seeking the laughter hidden in the very depths of his soul. Yet there were times when Nick found himself tempted to slam doors and sulk, to argue against everything happening for a reason, and that which didn't kill him, only serving to make him stronger... But he couldn't.
They'd taught him to cling to the brightness too well.
031 :-
Write a piece involving angst.
“I don't think I can do it anymore.”
Bewilderment seeping through him, Kevin turned to stare at Joe's face; took in the unusual pallor to his skin, the damp sheen of sweat upon his brow, the desperate terror that illuminated his eyes. He felt sick. Realised that his brother was breaking apart before his eyes.
“I can't do it, Kevin... don't make me. Please!”
He reacted instinctively, stretched out a hand to curve it about Joe's wrist, tugged him into a tight embrace. “It's okay -,” he soothed. “It's okay, Joe.”
But he knew that it wasn't.
Bonus Drabbles For January:-
001:- "New Year's..."
Barely three hours into the New Year, and already Joe was wishing that it were over. He sat alone on the wide window sill, staring sightlessly out into the crisp early morning air, trying to understand, to decipher the information that he had been given whilst standing on an open-topped bus with his brothers, surrounded by cheering people, confetti raining down upon them all in celebration.
'I'll ruin you -,' she had told him once, months earlier; before the public relations nightmare of their relationship's end had occurred. 'If ever you hurt me, Joe Jonas, I will fucking ruin you!'
At the time, he'd laughed; thought that she was fooling around, trying to scare him, had refused to believe that she could ever hurt him, in any way... but scant weeks later, he knew that he'd been a fool. Realised with the perfect vision of hindsight that he ought to have heeded her soft-spoken warning; at least considered the damage that she could wreck.
“Joe, come back to bed!”
Blinking rapidly at the drowsy sound of Nick's voice, he turned his head; glanced back towards the bed that they shared, the mound of blankets that concealed his brother, his lover from immediate sight. How, he wondered, could he have been so stupid? One moment of insanity, a decision made out of guilt, and not only would he suffer the consequences of his own irresponsible behaviour... but Nick would, too.
Whether the baby was his, or not, it would destroy them...
002:- "Gorgeous."
“Try to understand -,”
Joe rolled his eyes theatrically. “Let me guess... it's not you; it's me?”
“Yeah, that's...” Eyes narrowed, Garbo's voice faltered as his mind processed precisely what Joe had said. His mouth curving into a frown, he shook his head; stared at Joe as though he'd never seen him before.
As though they hadn't spent seven and a half months fucking at every opportunity that came their way, sneaking kisses whenever they could, lying through their back teeth in order to continue their clandestine affair.
“Joe...”
He shook his head, scowled pettishly. “Oh, don't give me any more of your bollocks, Garb. Credit me with a little bloody sense, would you?”
“But it's not you!” Garbo insisted. “Look, Joe, I wouldn't be doing this if it weren't for the fact that I've... that we've...”
“What? Run our course? Reached our natural conclusion?” Joe suggested, then; “What, Garbo? Fucking what?”
For a moment, Garbo was silent; watched Joe closely whilst chewing on his lower lip. When he spoke, his voice trembled with sadness. “It's not that I don't want to be with you, Joe -,”
“Yeah,” Joe snorted in disdain. “Right!”
“Oh, come on, Joe! Who wouldn't want to be with you? You're fucking gorgeous both inside and out!”
Joe's eyes narrowed. “Then why don't you want me anymore?”
“Because I've been warned off,” Garbo snapped out. “Alright? Kevin fucking warned me off you!”
003:- "Water."
Sunshine illuminated the soft auburn tint of Nick's hair, almost dazzling Kevin with the way in which it shaded his brother's eyes; helped to change them from ordinary brown to a shade that was almost tawny in colour as he ducked through the spray of water from the lawn sprinklers, turning his head to cackle at the pursuing Joe as he did so. Smiling Silently, Kevin leant against the frame of the front door, tried to inhale past the sudden lump that had risen at the back of his throat, the erratic pounding of his heart as he watched his younger siblings playing tag through the sprinklers spray, across their father's beloved, cherished, prized lawns.
It was rare that Joe and Nick had the opportunity to behave like the teenagers that they actually were, he thought, grinning as Joe clumsily tackled Nick to the ground, scrubbing his knuckles through the sodden mass of his hair, laughing maniacally as Nick screeched in outrage. Normalcy was a treat so often denied to the brothers that when a chance to grasp it in both hands arose, they did precisely that - and chasing one another through the sprinklers beneath the burning heat of a summer's sun was a ritual that they'd carried with them from boyhood.
Yet Kevin couldn't deny the fact that Nick no longer resembled a gawky boy as he ducked and weaved through the droplets of chilled water. Shirtless and drenched, he was nothing less than a demi-God in the making.
004:- "Cold".
(i)
It had started as a simple cold. A viral infection that Frankie had picked up, helpfully shared amongst the rest of the family and crew, failed to recover from.
Sitting alone in the front seat of his car, hands clenched tight about the steering wheel, Kevin found himself remembering how his youngest brother had continued to cough and splutter for weeks, long after they had all recovered, had grown paler and weaker with each day that passed until their parents had insisted that he see a doctor.
Even then, Kevin had thought that Frankie would be prescribed a course of antibiotics, that within a short time he would be back to normal. He'd never imagined, even for the slightest of seconds, that his baby brother might actually be ill. That his body might be ravaged by a disease so malicious that it had wrecked its damage in secret whilst they all presumed it was something less serious...
There was a soft knock against the window beside him, distracting him from his bitter, hurt thoughts, and Kevin turned to lower the glass that held him apart from his uncle.
“It's time, Kevin...”
Nodding his head, breathing deeply, Kevin turned his head back to look out across the cemetery where a cluster of dark suited mourners were waiting for him to join them. In their midst, a child-sized coffin stood with a bouquet of daisies balanced upon its sealed lid, its occupant the one who was supposed to outlive them all...
(ii)
Staring down into the grave where Frankie would remain, at the clumps of soil that they had reverently, quietly, furiously scattered onto the lid of the coffin, Joe knew that he would never forgive God for stealing him away from them.
For months, he had seethed at the cruelty of a God whom he'd been raised to believe was merciful, loving, benign, as he had watched his brother's body be ravaged by a disease that they had not understood to begin with, had quickly become desperate experts as they had sought for an elusive cure. He had bitten down on the tip of his tongue so many times in frustration at the pitying words of the consultants, specialists, doctors who had tried to convince them that no amount of money in the world, no abuse of their celebrity could make Frankie well again, that the muscle felt numb, too large for his mouth.
Obscure...
Joe had donated pints of his own blood, uselessly bargained with the malicious God who had chosen to ignore the family's prayers for mercy, watched as the little boy had writhed in agony on his hospital bed, sobbed like the baby he had truly still been, until Frankie's death had actually been a blessing. But he would never forgive what had happened, the devastating loss of the one person whose adoration of Joe had actually been something to be proud of.
He knew that he could not believe in any God that could be so cruel.
(iii)
Crouching down by the side of the open grave, the murmurs of the other mourners drifting away from him as they returned to the cars which would carry them away, back to his family's once happy home, Nick closed his eyes for a moment.
Tried to remember Frankie's smile.
Felt tears prickle sharply at the backs of his eyes as he realised that he couldn't. That his only clear memory of his brother's face was of it contorted in agony as the drugs were pumped into his body in an effort to eradicate the disease which had destroyed them all. Struggling to control his misery, still determined to be strong for his little brother, Nick breathed unsteadily, bowed his head and fought back the scream that bubbled within him.
The noise of horror that had twisted and writhed within him since the day of Frankie's diagnosis when they had realised the fight that the smallest, most vulnerable member of their family faced, simply to survive.
Nick had lost count of the prayers that he'd murmured, the pleas that he'd made for it to be him instead of Frankie who died, the silent tears that he had shed at the very notion of a world in which he would never again feel annoyed by his younger sibling. He could not even begin to comprehend the futility of a life without Frankie, knew only that his death had begun to separate them all as they struggled to deal with his loss alone...
005:- "Radio".
Somewhere in the background, music played. Leaning his head back, tilting his neck until he could stare up at the inside of the car's roof, Nick tried to collect his thoughts. To gather his courage enough to open the driver's door and step out into the midst of a situation that he was certain he would never be able to put back together again.
Sighing heavily, turning his head, he peered through the rain splattered glass beside him; watched as Kevin and Joe squared up to one another on the lawn, their clothes splattered with the mud which they'd kicked up in their initial struggle, their furious tangle of limbs, shoving hands, vicious words which he knew neither actually meant.
All because of a moment's insanity where he had allowed himself to lose control, to give in to the baser instincts which he'd spent what seemed like an entire lifetime fighting to ignore.
Because he'd kissed Joe.
Because Kevin had stumbled out into the rain when the car had pulled up onto the drive, and they hadn't hurried inside, his face illuminated with concern until he had caught a glimpse of them together; had realised what had happened, had instantly shifted into a rage that Nick could not begin to comprehend.
He hadn't known that Joe was with Kevin.
Understood only that had they trusted him enough to tell him, to confide in him the secret of their relationship... he would not have placed his lips against those of Joe.
006:- "Smell"
His nose wrinkling, Kevin tentatively sniffed the air as he heard the soft snick of the hotel room's door closing behind him, as he listened to the sounds of slumber that drifted towards him from the bed that his brothers shared. The quiet rumble of Joe's snoring, the muted shifting of Nick's limbs beneath the tangle of linen that covered them both.
The musky aroma was unmistakably carnal, spoke darkly to him of secrets hidden from plain view; touches shared and desperation borne of close contact with no one but each other, for far too long, and he sighed wearily. Felt consumed by gratitude and grief that he had managed to catch Denise at the end of the hallway, on her way to intercept his brothers rest, before she had been the one to discover their darkest secret in such a haphazardly cruel way.
Standing beside the bed, looking down at their resting forms, he watched them for a moment. Inhaled the scent of their sex, their mingled sweat, the sharper tang of semen ejaculated onto damp skin that permeated the air; wondered at their need for one another. Whether their desire to consume and be consumed by their lust had led to their reckless abandon of common sense.
To their near discovery.
A scowl twisting his face, Kevin bent down; shook Joe's shoulder with force until the younger man opened his eyes.
“Kevin...?”
“Get in the shower,” Kevin snapped, glaring down in disgust. “You fucking reek!”
007:- "Sleep"
Perhaps it was the time he'd spent working on Broadway, or maybe it was the constant battle that his body faced to regulate its glucose, but Nick had always been able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. It had long been a family joke that, if necessary, he'd be able to doze whilst standing upright, in the midst of a noisy crowd... a point of amused pride amongst them, a source of vague teasing amongst the hustle of their daily lives.
Watching over Nick as he slumbered on the cushions of the bus' coach, his body curled innocently against his side, Joe wondered if his younger brother realised how deeply he envied him the knack. The ability that he held to cat nap as, when and where he needed to. For weeks, ever since the tour had started, Joe had coveted sleep as though it were something rare. As though he were a blind man who craved sight, or a starving man who dreamed of bread. He physically ached from lack of rest, found himself snappy and petulant because of it, almost loathed himself for taking his tiredness out on others. But he couldn't seem to help himself.
Found himself drawn to linger by Nick's oblivious side as he slept, in the hope that it would leech into his own self. That he might develop the same knack of closing his eyes and instantly drifting into dreams if only he could watch Nick do it often enough.