(Untitled)
All right, people. Clearly I have to put together a full primer to drag you all kicking and screaming into JoBros. Because there is no one in the fandom and there NEEDS TO BE, and Nick and Joe aren't just in love, they're that kind of intense, amazing, it-almost-hurts-to-watch in love that Sam and Dean were in the early seasons of SPN, that "When
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So, uh... yes, please. I'd be very grateful if you can post a copy of it.
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He leans his forehead against the bathroom tiles, groaning. He wants to stay here, lie down on the tub and press the coolness into his skin.
But there's no time for that. So, he splashes cold water into his face and walks out, sitting on the bed next to Joe who's screaming "Wheel! Of! Fortuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuune!" into the TV even if it's Jeopardy showing. Nick smiles and gets his guitar. It feels heavy and Nick's suddenly scared. The only time his guitar feels heavy is when he's about to crash. Or Joe superglued weights inside his guitar.
He rests a bit on his guitar, thinking about the last time he tested his blood. Two hours ago. His levels were fine. Maybe, it's just the lack of sleep finally catching up.
He puts down the guitar gently. The important thing right now is not to let Joe know how tired he is because Joe would start worrying and-
"Nick?" Joe asks, peering at him.
Joe always knows.
"I'm fine, Joe," Nick says and even he knows how weak that sounds.
"Did you already... you know?" Joe says and mimics pricking his finger, making squishing sounds. It makes Nick smile.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Nick says and lies down on the bed. "Just tired. I'm thinking that it's the lack of sleep finally catching up."
The bed shifts and Joe's next to him. He pushes back into Joe, wanting his warmth and contact. He hears Joe hiss and draw back and it stuns Nick because that's not how it goes.
"Nick, Jesus, you're burning up. You're, like, sick," Joe says and feels his forehead.
"I'm not sick. I'm fine. Just tired. I'll be better after I sleep," Nick says even if his throat starts feeling too dry.
"No, you won't," Joe says and stands up. "I'm gonna tell mom, okay?"
Nick reaches out and grabs Joe's wrist. For some reason, he's desperate not to see Joe go. "No, don't tell mom. I'll take some meds, okay? Just don't tell her, please." Stay, Joe.
Joe looks at him, eyes worried and Nick hates himself for that. He rubs his thumb over Joe's wrist, trying to breathe.
"Okay, Nick. Okay. But you've got to take it easy, alright? You gotta get some serious sleep," Joe says and Nick smiles with triumph, pulling Joe back to the bed. "And if you don't look any better in the morning, I'm telling mom."
Nick doesn't care what happens in the morning. All he cares right now is that Joe comes back to bed. Nick thinks that Joe might catch his cold but he remembers that Joe doesn't get sick. He remembers the time when Nick and Frankie and Kevin all had the flu last year and Joe never caught it. Nick's personal theory is that Joe's body doesn't know how to get sick and germs are afraid to stick to that much energy. It'd be like sticking your tongue in a socket.
The bed shifts again and Nick follows the scent of Joe's shampoo. He feels sweaty and gross but he doesn't care when Joe puts his arms around him. He falls asleep to the sound of Joe's breathing.
Everything's gonna be better in the morning.
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