New RPS fic - Joe/Nick - you oughta be in pictures
Thanks to media for telling me what was wrong with this fic and then helping me make it right. YOU ARE THE QUEEN.
Title - you oughta be in pictures
Pairing - Joe/Nick
Rating - Adult
Word Count - 3900
Warnings - This fic takes place now-ish but completely ignores the existence of Jemi. Sorry? I figure it's ok because the other thing I'm working on is nothing but porny Nick Jemi-angst, so that makes up for it? Whoo?
Summary - Nick and Joe watch porn.
you oughta be in pictures
By the time they're done filming for the day Nick is beat. Every muscle is his body is hurting and he's got sweat and sand everywhere; in his shoes, his hair, up his shirt and down the back of his shorts. He can't remember the last time he felt this gross, so when Joe suggests they go to his place to clean up because he's closer, Nick just nods and jumps in his car.
He's only driving three minutes when the phone in his pocket buzzes with a text.
u wanna get food too?
Nick waits until he's stopped at a light to text back: Sure. Sounds good. He's behind Joe's car and he can see when Joe gets his text. He turns around to nod at Nick and give him the thumbs up, and then the light turns green and they're both still sitting there, blocking traffic while Joe texts him back. Nick leans on the horn and Joe finally moves just as Nick's phone buzzes again.
italan? chinese?
Joe, I just SAW you. And I am going to your HOUSE. I will talk to you THEN.
When the phone buzzes again Nick throws it under the seat and ignores it.
*
Nick takes the longest shower in history. He washes his hair three times and uses all of Joe's fancy soaps and lotions. When he's finally done the bathroom is filled with steam and Joe's left a pair of his own sweats and a Yankees t-shirt folded in a pile on top of the toilet. Nick dries himself off and rubs the water from his curls before yanking on the clothes and slinging a towel around his neck. When he gets to the kitchen Joe is already unpacking the brown paper bags of food. The entire house smells like spicy sauce and meatballs and garlic and Nick's stomach growls.
"Get out of the way," he says, and bumps Joe over with his hip. Joe still looks grungy and tired. Behind his glasses his eyes are dark and bruised and his face is covered with scruff. "Go shower so we can eat."
"Yeah?" Joe rubs a hand over his face and yawns. He points up at the cabinets and says, "The plates are up there."
"I know."
"And the forks are--"
"In the drawer. I got it."" Nick tries not to be annoyed, but really, he knows where stuff is. He might not live here but he's not totally lost in Joe's kitchen.
Joe reaches across Nick's chest to open the cabinet next to his head. "Lemme just get the glasses so--"
"Joseph." Nick crosses his arms over his chest and glares. "Get in the shower so we can eat. I mean, I know it's difficult stuff and all, but I'm pretty sure I can figure out how to set a table without you."
"Aww, Nicky," Joe says, and rubs his dirty, sandy, scruffy face against Nick's cheek. Nick shrieks and jumps back, nearly knocking the bags of food off the counter. "You sure you don't need me?"
Nick shoves at Joe's shoulder and pushes him out of the kitchen. "You're so weird," he says to Joe's back, and then listens to Joe laugh all the way down the hall.
*
Joe's shower is a lot quicker, Nick realizes guiltily, but by the time he's done Nick has all the food set up on the coffee table with plates and forks and napkins. He's gotten them a couple of glasses of iced tea and even opened a bottle of wine that was just hanging out on Joe's counter. The table is pulled up close to the couch and Nick has the last few innings of the Dodgers game all cued up and ready to go on the TV.
When Joe finally makes it into the room in a pair of sweatpants and a stretched out Springsteen t-shirt he looks a lot better. His hair is damp and his feet are bare and he scratches his belly and grins at the set up Nick has all laid out for them for dinner. "Aww, honey--"
"Will you just shut up and sit down? I'm starving."
Joe flops onto the couch next to him and grabs the plates. He hands one to Nick and then starts loading his up - ziti and meatballs and eggplant and this ridiculous cheesy garlic bread that Nick loves. Nick gets his own food and pushes play on the TV and the two of them sit there and eat like starving wolves, barely taking time to breathe or speak. They eat as much food as they can as quickly as they can, as they drink wine and watch the Dodgers kick the ever loving crap out of the Pirates on the TV.
"Ugh. God. That was so good." Joe tosses his plate onto the table and the fork bounces off and lands on the floor. He belches against the back of his arm then leans back, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Nick starts to clean up a little; stack the plates together, crush up some of the food tins, but after a minute Joe grabs him and pulls Nick back onto the couch, his arm heavy and warm around Nick's shoulders. Nick tries to get away and give them a little space, but Joe can be strong when he wants and every time Nick tries to get away Joe just grabs him back and pulls him in even closer, rubs his face on the back of Nick's hair. After a few minutes, Nick gives up. Sometimes it's not worth the energy to argue.
They watch TV for a little while, not really talking, just hanging out, almost like a couple at the end of a long work day. Nick doesn't know what to make of it. It's bizarrely awkward and comfortable at the same time. Weird. Just when he's about to start getting his stuff together and head home, Joe asks, "Is the game over?"
Nick looks at Joe, then over to the TV where the words Dodgers Post Game Report! are scrolling across the bottom of the screen, then back to Joe. He licks his lips. "That's usually when post game report happens, yeah."
"Ha ha," Joe says, but his voice sounds oddly tense. Nick glances over and sees Joe's leg bouncing up and down on the rug really fast. He's cracking his knuckles and looking at everything in the room except Nick, and it's just...strange. Now that Nick thinks about it, Joe's been a little off all night. Nothing crazy, just...something's been on his mind for sure.
"Everything all right, Joe?"
"You, uh. You want to watch something else?" Joe asks. He never really answers Nick's question, and when Nick tries to catch his eye he looks away. There's a funny pitch to his voice, and he twists his ring in circles around his finger.
"Sure." Nick says slowly. He shrugs and checks his phone. "I got time. You want to put in a movie or--"
"I have porn."
Nick stops mid-sentence and whips his head up. Joe is staring at him, eyes kind of wide, and Nick feels his breath go short and stuttery. "What?"
"Porn. I have. I mean." Joe scratches the back of his neck and looks down. Nick watches Joe's skin pink up to his ears and feels his own cheeks flush back in response. "Garbo has some really good porn that we watched one time. Well, a few times, actually. And then he lent it to me before he and Jack went away and I watched it again the other night and it's, like. I dunno. It's really good so I just figured." He looks up at Nick now. Blushes even harder and looks away. "Whatever. Never mind. It's dumb. We can put on something else instead."
Nick is speechless. "I. I just. I don't know, I mean--"
"No, no. Forget it." Joe goes to stand up but Nick reaches out on instinct and pushes Joe back into the couch. "It was stupid to ask. You totally don't want to watch it."
"It's just weird, Joe, I mean--"
"I know! Whatever, it was cool with Garbo, but I get that it's not your thing. It's no big deal," Joe says, and Nick's hackles rise.
Because, what, is he not cool enough to watch porn with?
"Put it on," Nick says, and his voice cracks. He clears his throat and pokes Joe on the thigh until Joe looks at him again. "Joe."
"Nick, you don't have to--"
And Nick knows he doesn't have to, not really. But Joe wants to and Garbo already did and really, it's just porn. It's no big deal, right?
"I said," Nick says and pauses to make sure Joe's looking at him. "Put it on."
*
They wind up sitting awkwardly on the couch, both hunched forward resting their elbows on their knees, watching porn. And it's good. It kills Nick to admit that Joe is right about something like this, but it is. Not that Nick has seen a whole lot of porn in his life, but hey. He has a computer and knows how to work the internet. He's also a guy and not dead so yeah, he's seen some porn before.
But never...never really good porn, with a gorgeous redhead and a toned, really buff guy who's probably not much older than he is. And never like, all out in the open, in a living room and not curled up in the dark with his laptop and a woody under his blankets hiding away from everyone else in the house. Never just so out there, all kind of loud and proud and Hey! Check me out! PORN! like he's doing now. Like Joe's apparently done.
Nick leans back and tries to mellow out after a few minutes, because the porn is good, sure, but he's is feeling all kinds of uptight and anxious about it. He's just never done this before, watched something like this with someone else around. And he knows it's only Joe, that it barely even matters in the long run, but still. He can see Joe. See him watching the screen, and he knows Joe is seeing all the same stuff he is. All the really hot, really good porny stuff and it's just...It's strange.
Nick forces himself to melt a little into the cushions of the couch. Take a few deep breaths in and out. Watch the TV and try not to have a brain hemmorage from how hard he's blushing. The girl on the screen is hot and the guy is also really built and, well yeah. They're doing some interesting stuff, that's for sure. He feels his dick start to swell and he tries to subtly press the heel of his hand against it, forcing it back down under his briefs.
A few minutes after Nick starts to relax he notices Joe does, too. He can feel the couch shift and move under his weight as Joe settles in, and then Nick can kind of sense him, the heat of him so close to Nick's side. He can still smell the soap on Joe's skin from his shower, and the shampoo in his hair. He looks over at Joe to say something and finds him looking at Nick already, his mouth open as if he's about to talk, dark-framed glasses perched on his face. The rest of him looks so scruffy and sleepy in sweats and a t-shirt with his hair all kind of curling and floppy like it gets when he doesn't do anything to it after it dries, but then his glasses make him look more serious, like he's really paying attention to the porn, and Nick can't help it. He cracks up.
"What?" Joe asks. "What are you--"
"This." Nick pushes the edge of Joe's glasses against his face. "Making sure you don't miss anything?" he teases, and it breaks whatever weird tension was sitting between them. Makes it feel more like them.
Joe flushes pink and hot and yanks the glasses from his face with a chuckle. "Better?" he asks. The glasses make a shoft thump! when they hit the floor behind the couch.
And it is better. It's a lot better. Nick can see Joe's eyes now, his face. He looks more like his regular Joe, the one Nick knows, and somehow that makes part of this easier, more comfortable. Nick leans back into the couch again and sticks his feet up on the coffee table. "Yeah. Much better," he says, and then ignores Joe when he chuckles.
They both turn their attention to the TV again, and--wow. It didn't seem like him and Joe had been talking that long, but maybe time moves differently in porn-land, because what Nick's looking at on the screen now isn't anything like the semi-tame stuff they'd been watching just a few minutes ago. Now there's just... There's a lot going on, is all.
"This is--" Joe's voice cracks. He clears his throat. "You should watch. This is the good part."
Nick thinks he agrees--he makes some kind of strangled noise at least--and tries to look away but can't. He feels awkward and embarrassed, but, god, really turned on too. Just watching what's happening, the girl and her mouth, her hands on the guys thighs and ass and the places she's putting her fingers and tongue and, oh, god, do people really do that? They really like it? Because it seems like it might be weird or something, but she's got her fingers around and up and in the guy and he definitely looks like he likes it. He looks like he more than likes it. Kind of like he loves it or something. On the screen the guy is panting and moaning and cursing a little, and Nick is trying not to get too into watching it, trying to will away his boner but he was already half-hard and this is definitely not helping.
Joe makes a soft noise then, half between a choke and a gasp, and Nick looks over and--"Joe-what the hell? What are you--"
"I'm sorry, Nicky - shit! I just. I didn't--"
Nick rolls his eyes and huffs and shoves himself deeper into the cushions. Because Joe's hard. Really hard. Sitting right there, right next to Nick on the couch. That's his dick pressing up against the front of his sweatpants. Nick can see it, the curve and outline and sure, he's pretty hard too, but he's ignoring it. Not thinking about it and trying to make it go away. He doesn't understand why Joe isn't doing the same thing, instead of sitting there with his legs splayed wide and dirty, rubbing the heel of his hand against his dick with Nick right there. Right next to him.
Nick looks back at the screen. "It's fine, just." He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "Not being a very good host, is all."
Joe's quiet for a split second, and then he laughs, dark and low. Nick can feel the cushions shifting under his weight as Joe moves closer. Nick's watching him from the corner of his eye, and then he's right there, right in Nick's space and Nick has to force himself to keep looking straight ahead and not meet Joe's gaze. He can tell when Joe is staring at him, at his dick, because all the air in the room seems too hot and thick to breathe through. Nick feels like he's swimming in it, drowning, and he doesn't know how to get himself out.
"What?" Nick asks, and licks his lips.
He can feel Joe shrug. "Nothing."
A few more seconds tick by and Nick can't stand it. He glances over and finds Joe grinning at him, all wide and stupid, but with a fleck of something darker in his eyes. Nick can feel the breath punch from his chest. Joe touches his arm - just the skin under his elbow and Nick has to bite back a moan. "Joe," he warns.
"You hurt my feelings, Nicky," Joe says, pretending to be wounded. "I think I'm being a very good host. I mean, I got you food--"
"I paid for half."
"And let you use my shower--"
"It's water."
"And played you my porn--"
"Joe." Nick turns his body so he's half-facing his brother, their knees and shoulders touching. "I hate to break it to you, but sharing porn doesn't neccessarily make you a good host."
Joe thinks about this for a second. "Well," he says as he bites his bottom lip. "It doesn't make me a bad host, does it?"
Nick honestly has no idea how to answer that. He flails for a second, trying to think of what to address first, but winds up not saying anything when Joe starts pushing him around, shoving him back and yanking Nick's knee to the side so he can slide onto the floor between his legs.
"Joe."
Joe's hands are warm on Nick's thighs, almost burning him through his sweatpants. He tries to look up, away, anywhere but at Joe and the way Joe is watching him, the way his hands are moving up and down on Nick's legs, pushing them wider open, sliding himself in close. "Joe, I'm serious. I don't know what you're--"
"Nick, Nick, Nick," Joe tsks softly. He flicks his fingers out, touches just the tips to Nick's dick and Nick shudders, curls up off the couch and folds himself over Joe. "I'm just trying to be a good host, all right?"
Nick tries to ignore the way Joe's looking at him, touching him, because it's not like this is the first time Nick's thought about something like this - not even close. Nick's thought about Joe for as long as he can remember. He just - he loves Joe, loves him more than anything, and sometimes Nick gets confused with where his love for Joe starts and where it's supposed to stop. He feels like he wants everything with him, wants to do everything with him, even things like this when Nick knows he shouldn't want it. And right now all Nick wants is to ignore all the crazy thoughts in his head that are telling him that they shouldn't do this.
The porn is still playing on the TV but it doesn't matter. Joe's touching the bottom of Nick's shirt with shaky fingers, his face flushed pink and hot, and when he whispers, "Come on, Nicky. Please--" he's the hottest thing Nick's ever seen.
Nick doesn't know what he's doing - doesn't really know how to do this - but he leans back when Joe shoves him just a little. Joe's fingers are dipping under Nick's sweats, pulling them down his legs. The couch is soft against Nick's skin, the backs of his thighs, and Joe's mouth is warm and wet against him. Joe's talking to him, mumbling and whispering and being typical Joe, never shutting up even for a second, and it makes this even more real, makes it even more him and Joe and them and Nick can hardly breathe with how much he loves his brother.
He slides his hand into Joe's hair, loving the way the chunks curl soft around his fingers. Joe's almost teasing him, light touches, his breath damp against Nick's dick but not really on it, not where Nick needs it to be. Nick tugs on Joe's hair for a second, and he looks up, his eyes dark, mouth wet and shiny.
"Nick, you have to let me--"
"Yeah, okay. Do it," Nick says, and pushes Joe's head down.
Joe groans, loud and long around Nick, sucking him deep into his throat. His mouth is so tight, so wet that Nick can barely see. Everything goes white behind his eyes and his hips lurch off the couch. Joe gags a little, but when Nick tries to stop to see if he's okay Joe just waves a hand, keeps going and sucks him even harder. He twists his tongue around Nick's length, up to the head and then back down. His fingers are working the base, getting spit-slick and trailing over Nick's balls, up and under the bottom of his thigh. Nick wonders if Joe is going to do that--is he going to put his fingers--
And then there's one there, a little damp, kind of rough and a lot bigger than Nick had expected.
"J-Joe. Ung. W-what--"
Joe's mouth slides off him with a wet pop! "Please, Nicky, I have to try--"
Nick is nodding before he can even think about it. "Yeah, okay. C-come on, put it--"
Joe's finger finally slides right up against Nick's hole, and Nick can't take it. He grabs Joe's hair and yanks, trying to get Joe back on his dick and missing. Joe's mouth drags spit over the side of him, winds up sloppy and messy on his balls, the indside of his thigh. He sucks Nick gently and pushes a little more with his finger, a little harder, trying to get deeper, and Nick can't stop thinking about how good this is, how much he wants Joe like this again, but maybe even more next time. He wants all of Joe's finger, two fingers. He wants - Christ - Nick wants Joe inside him. His fingers and mouth and his dick and he wants -- oh, god, he wonders if he could get Joe to fuck him. He really wants that. Nick doesn't know why he never thought of that before, why they never did this before, but now that they have, now that it's out there and something they can do, something Nick can have, he wants more of it, all of it.
"Joe, 'm'gonna--" Nick warns, and then he's coming, loads of it warm and sticky all over Joe's mouth and chin.
Joe wipes his face off on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and then looks up, smiling sheepishly. Nick feels boneless on the couch, kind of wrecked and stupid, like he just came his brains out on his brother's face while watching porn on the couch. Which is kind of exactly what happened. Nick thinks he should feel weirder right now than he does. He waits for the freakout he was expecting to come, and when it doesn't he lets himself smile stupidly at Joe, full on with teeth and everything.
"So...hey," Nick says.
Joe grins back. "Hi."
Nick looks down at where the front of Joe's sweats are tented out. He can see a damp spot right at the head of Joe's dick, and just thinking about it, getting his hands and mouth on Joe the way Joe just did to him has Nick's fingers itching. He wants to touch Joe now too. Touch his dick and suck him off and put his fingers inside Joe right here, now, but even better than Joe did, even longer.
Nick slides to the floor and yanks his pants up. He pushes Joe over, then gets between his legs and grins down at him. "You ready?" he asks.
Joe laughs, a little breathless. "Uh, yeah. You, uh--you want me to put another movie in or something?"
Nick smirks. "Forget the movie," he says, and slides his hand into Joe's sweats.
-END-
Title - you oughta be in pictures
Pairing - Joe/Nick
Rating - Adult
Word Count - 3900
Warnings - This fic takes place now-ish but completely ignores the existence of Jemi. Sorry? I figure it's ok because the other thing I'm working on is nothing but porny Nick Jemi-angst, so that makes up for it? Whoo?
Summary - Nick and Joe watch porn.
you oughta be in pictures
By the time they're done filming for the day Nick is beat. Every muscle is his body is hurting and he's got sweat and sand everywhere; in his shoes, his hair, up his shirt and down the back of his shorts. He can't remember the last time he felt this gross, so when Joe suggests they go to his place to clean up because he's closer, Nick just nods and jumps in his car.
He's only driving three minutes when the phone in his pocket buzzes with a text.
u wanna get food too?
Nick waits until he's stopped at a light to text back: Sure. Sounds good. He's behind Joe's car and he can see when Joe gets his text. He turns around to nod at Nick and give him the thumbs up, and then the light turns green and they're both still sitting there, blocking traffic while Joe texts him back. Nick leans on the horn and Joe finally moves just as Nick's phone buzzes again.
italan? chinese?
Joe, I just SAW you. And I am going to your HOUSE. I will talk to you THEN.
When the phone buzzes again Nick throws it under the seat and ignores it.
*
Nick takes the longest shower in history. He washes his hair three times and uses all of Joe's fancy soaps and lotions. When he's finally done the bathroom is filled with steam and Joe's left a pair of his own sweats and a Yankees t-shirt folded in a pile on top of the toilet. Nick dries himself off and rubs the water from his curls before yanking on the clothes and slinging a towel around his neck. When he gets to the kitchen Joe is already unpacking the brown paper bags of food. The entire house smells like spicy sauce and meatballs and garlic and Nick's stomach growls.
"Get out of the way," he says, and bumps Joe over with his hip. Joe still looks grungy and tired. Behind his glasses his eyes are dark and bruised and his face is covered with scruff. "Go shower so we can eat."
"Yeah?" Joe rubs a hand over his face and yawns. He points up at the cabinets and says, "The plates are up there."
"I know."
"And the forks are--"
"In the drawer. I got it."" Nick tries not to be annoyed, but really, he knows where stuff is. He might not live here but he's not totally lost in Joe's kitchen.
Joe reaches across Nick's chest to open the cabinet next to his head. "Lemme just get the glasses so--"
"Joseph." Nick crosses his arms over his chest and glares. "Get in the shower so we can eat. I mean, I know it's difficult stuff and all, but I'm pretty sure I can figure out how to set a table without you."
"Aww, Nicky," Joe says, and rubs his dirty, sandy, scruffy face against Nick's cheek. Nick shrieks and jumps back, nearly knocking the bags of food off the counter. "You sure you don't need me?"
Nick shoves at Joe's shoulder and pushes him out of the kitchen. "You're so weird," he says to Joe's back, and then listens to Joe laugh all the way down the hall.
*
Joe's shower is a lot quicker, Nick realizes guiltily, but by the time he's done Nick has all the food set up on the coffee table with plates and forks and napkins. He's gotten them a couple of glasses of iced tea and even opened a bottle of wine that was just hanging out on Joe's counter. The table is pulled up close to the couch and Nick has the last few innings of the Dodgers game all cued up and ready to go on the TV.
When Joe finally makes it into the room in a pair of sweatpants and a stretched out Springsteen t-shirt he looks a lot better. His hair is damp and his feet are bare and he scratches his belly and grins at the set up Nick has all laid out for them for dinner. "Aww, honey--"
"Will you just shut up and sit down? I'm starving."
Joe flops onto the couch next to him and grabs the plates. He hands one to Nick and then starts loading his up - ziti and meatballs and eggplant and this ridiculous cheesy garlic bread that Nick loves. Nick gets his own food and pushes play on the TV and the two of them sit there and eat like starving wolves, barely taking time to breathe or speak. They eat as much food as they can as quickly as they can, as they drink wine and watch the Dodgers kick the ever loving crap out of the Pirates on the TV.
"Ugh. God. That was so good." Joe tosses his plate onto the table and the fork bounces off and lands on the floor. He belches against the back of his arm then leans back, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. Nick starts to clean up a little; stack the plates together, crush up some of the food tins, but after a minute Joe grabs him and pulls Nick back onto the couch, his arm heavy and warm around Nick's shoulders. Nick tries to get away and give them a little space, but Joe can be strong when he wants and every time Nick tries to get away Joe just grabs him back and pulls him in even closer, rubs his face on the back of Nick's hair. After a few minutes, Nick gives up. Sometimes it's not worth the energy to argue.
They watch TV for a little while, not really talking, just hanging out, almost like a couple at the end of a long work day. Nick doesn't know what to make of it. It's bizarrely awkward and comfortable at the same time. Weird. Just when he's about to start getting his stuff together and head home, Joe asks, "Is the game over?"
Nick looks at Joe, then over to the TV where the words Dodgers Post Game Report! are scrolling across the bottom of the screen, then back to Joe. He licks his lips. "That's usually when post game report happens, yeah."
"Ha ha," Joe says, but his voice sounds oddly tense. Nick glances over and sees Joe's leg bouncing up and down on the rug really fast. He's cracking his knuckles and looking at everything in the room except Nick, and it's just...strange. Now that Nick thinks about it, Joe's been a little off all night. Nothing crazy, just...something's been on his mind for sure.
"Everything all right, Joe?"
"You, uh. You want to watch something else?" Joe asks. He never really answers Nick's question, and when Nick tries to catch his eye he looks away. There's a funny pitch to his voice, and he twists his ring in circles around his finger.
"Sure." Nick says slowly. He shrugs and checks his phone. "I got time. You want to put in a movie or--"
"I have porn."
Nick stops mid-sentence and whips his head up. Joe is staring at him, eyes kind of wide, and Nick feels his breath go short and stuttery. "What?"
"Porn. I have. I mean." Joe scratches the back of his neck and looks down. Nick watches Joe's skin pink up to his ears and feels his own cheeks flush back in response. "Garbo has some really good porn that we watched one time. Well, a few times, actually. And then he lent it to me before he and Jack went away and I watched it again the other night and it's, like. I dunno. It's really good so I just figured." He looks up at Nick now. Blushes even harder and looks away. "Whatever. Never mind. It's dumb. We can put on something else instead."
Nick is speechless. "I. I just. I don't know, I mean--"
"No, no. Forget it." Joe goes to stand up but Nick reaches out on instinct and pushes Joe back into the couch. "It was stupid to ask. You totally don't want to watch it."
"It's just weird, Joe, I mean--"
"I know! Whatever, it was cool with Garbo, but I get that it's not your thing. It's no big deal," Joe says, and Nick's hackles rise.
Because, what, is he not cool enough to watch porn with?
"Put it on," Nick says, and his voice cracks. He clears his throat and pokes Joe on the thigh until Joe looks at him again. "Joe."
"Nick, you don't have to--"
And Nick knows he doesn't have to, not really. But Joe wants to and Garbo already did and really, it's just porn. It's no big deal, right?
"I said," Nick says and pauses to make sure Joe's looking at him. "Put it on."
*
They wind up sitting awkwardly on the couch, both hunched forward resting their elbows on their knees, watching porn. And it's good. It kills Nick to admit that Joe is right about something like this, but it is. Not that Nick has seen a whole lot of porn in his life, but hey. He has a computer and knows how to work the internet. He's also a guy and not dead so yeah, he's seen some porn before.
But never...never really good porn, with a gorgeous redhead and a toned, really buff guy who's probably not much older than he is. And never like, all out in the open, in a living room and not curled up in the dark with his laptop and a woody under his blankets hiding away from everyone else in the house. Never just so out there, all kind of loud and proud and Hey! Check me out! PORN! like he's doing now. Like Joe's apparently done.
Nick leans back and tries to mellow out after a few minutes, because the porn is good, sure, but he's is feeling all kinds of uptight and anxious about it. He's just never done this before, watched something like this with someone else around. And he knows it's only Joe, that it barely even matters in the long run, but still. He can see Joe. See him watching the screen, and he knows Joe is seeing all the same stuff he is. All the really hot, really good porny stuff and it's just...It's strange.
Nick forces himself to melt a little into the cushions of the couch. Take a few deep breaths in and out. Watch the TV and try not to have a brain hemmorage from how hard he's blushing. The girl on the screen is hot and the guy is also really built and, well yeah. They're doing some interesting stuff, that's for sure. He feels his dick start to swell and he tries to subtly press the heel of his hand against it, forcing it back down under his briefs.
A few minutes after Nick starts to relax he notices Joe does, too. He can feel the couch shift and move under his weight as Joe settles in, and then Nick can kind of sense him, the heat of him so close to Nick's side. He can still smell the soap on Joe's skin from his shower, and the shampoo in his hair. He looks over at Joe to say something and finds him looking at Nick already, his mouth open as if he's about to talk, dark-framed glasses perched on his face. The rest of him looks so scruffy and sleepy in sweats and a t-shirt with his hair all kind of curling and floppy like it gets when he doesn't do anything to it after it dries, but then his glasses make him look more serious, like he's really paying attention to the porn, and Nick can't help it. He cracks up.
"What?" Joe asks. "What are you--"
"This." Nick pushes the edge of Joe's glasses against his face. "Making sure you don't miss anything?" he teases, and it breaks whatever weird tension was sitting between them. Makes it feel more like them.
Joe flushes pink and hot and yanks the glasses from his face with a chuckle. "Better?" he asks. The glasses make a shoft thump! when they hit the floor behind the couch.
And it is better. It's a lot better. Nick can see Joe's eyes now, his face. He looks more like his regular Joe, the one Nick knows, and somehow that makes part of this easier, more comfortable. Nick leans back into the couch again and sticks his feet up on the coffee table. "Yeah. Much better," he says, and then ignores Joe when he chuckles.
They both turn their attention to the TV again, and--wow. It didn't seem like him and Joe had been talking that long, but maybe time moves differently in porn-land, because what Nick's looking at on the screen now isn't anything like the semi-tame stuff they'd been watching just a few minutes ago. Now there's just... There's a lot going on, is all.
"This is--" Joe's voice cracks. He clears his throat. "You should watch. This is the good part."
Nick thinks he agrees--he makes some kind of strangled noise at least--and tries to look away but can't. He feels awkward and embarrassed, but, god, really turned on too. Just watching what's happening, the girl and her mouth, her hands on the guys thighs and ass and the places she's putting her fingers and tongue and, oh, god, do people really do that? They really like it? Because it seems like it might be weird or something, but she's got her fingers around and up and in the guy and he definitely looks like he likes it. He looks like he more than likes it. Kind of like he loves it or something. On the screen the guy is panting and moaning and cursing a little, and Nick is trying not to get too into watching it, trying to will away his boner but he was already half-hard and this is definitely not helping.
Joe makes a soft noise then, half between a choke and a gasp, and Nick looks over and--"Joe-what the hell? What are you--"
"I'm sorry, Nicky - shit! I just. I didn't--"
Nick rolls his eyes and huffs and shoves himself deeper into the cushions. Because Joe's hard. Really hard. Sitting right there, right next to Nick on the couch. That's his dick pressing up against the front of his sweatpants. Nick can see it, the curve and outline and sure, he's pretty hard too, but he's ignoring it. Not thinking about it and trying to make it go away. He doesn't understand why Joe isn't doing the same thing, instead of sitting there with his legs splayed wide and dirty, rubbing the heel of his hand against his dick with Nick right there. Right next to him.
Nick looks back at the screen. "It's fine, just." He lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "Not being a very good host, is all."
Joe's quiet for a split second, and then he laughs, dark and low. Nick can feel the cushions shifting under his weight as Joe moves closer. Nick's watching him from the corner of his eye, and then he's right there, right in Nick's space and Nick has to force himself to keep looking straight ahead and not meet Joe's gaze. He can tell when Joe is staring at him, at his dick, because all the air in the room seems too hot and thick to breathe through. Nick feels like he's swimming in it, drowning, and he doesn't know how to get himself out.
"What?" Nick asks, and licks his lips.
He can feel Joe shrug. "Nothing."
A few more seconds tick by and Nick can't stand it. He glances over and finds Joe grinning at him, all wide and stupid, but with a fleck of something darker in his eyes. Nick can feel the breath punch from his chest. Joe touches his arm - just the skin under his elbow and Nick has to bite back a moan. "Joe," he warns.
"You hurt my feelings, Nicky," Joe says, pretending to be wounded. "I think I'm being a very good host. I mean, I got you food--"
"I paid for half."
"And let you use my shower--"
"It's water."
"And played you my porn--"
"Joe." Nick turns his body so he's half-facing his brother, their knees and shoulders touching. "I hate to break it to you, but sharing porn doesn't neccessarily make you a good host."
Joe thinks about this for a second. "Well," he says as he bites his bottom lip. "It doesn't make me a bad host, does it?"
Nick honestly has no idea how to answer that. He flails for a second, trying to think of what to address first, but winds up not saying anything when Joe starts pushing him around, shoving him back and yanking Nick's knee to the side so he can slide onto the floor between his legs.
"Joe."
Joe's hands are warm on Nick's thighs, almost burning him through his sweatpants. He tries to look up, away, anywhere but at Joe and the way Joe is watching him, the way his hands are moving up and down on Nick's legs, pushing them wider open, sliding himself in close. "Joe, I'm serious. I don't know what you're--"
"Nick, Nick, Nick," Joe tsks softly. He flicks his fingers out, touches just the tips to Nick's dick and Nick shudders, curls up off the couch and folds himself over Joe. "I'm just trying to be a good host, all right?"
Nick tries to ignore the way Joe's looking at him, touching him, because it's not like this is the first time Nick's thought about something like this - not even close. Nick's thought about Joe for as long as he can remember. He just - he loves Joe, loves him more than anything, and sometimes Nick gets confused with where his love for Joe starts and where it's supposed to stop. He feels like he wants everything with him, wants to do everything with him, even things like this when Nick knows he shouldn't want it. And right now all Nick wants is to ignore all the crazy thoughts in his head that are telling him that they shouldn't do this.
The porn is still playing on the TV but it doesn't matter. Joe's touching the bottom of Nick's shirt with shaky fingers, his face flushed pink and hot, and when he whispers, "Come on, Nicky. Please--" he's the hottest thing Nick's ever seen.
Nick doesn't know what he's doing - doesn't really know how to do this - but he leans back when Joe shoves him just a little. Joe's fingers are dipping under Nick's sweats, pulling them down his legs. The couch is soft against Nick's skin, the backs of his thighs, and Joe's mouth is warm and wet against him. Joe's talking to him, mumbling and whispering and being typical Joe, never shutting up even for a second, and it makes this even more real, makes it even more him and Joe and them and Nick can hardly breathe with how much he loves his brother.
He slides his hand into Joe's hair, loving the way the chunks curl soft around his fingers. Joe's almost teasing him, light touches, his breath damp against Nick's dick but not really on it, not where Nick needs it to be. Nick tugs on Joe's hair for a second, and he looks up, his eyes dark, mouth wet and shiny.
"Nick, you have to let me--"
"Yeah, okay. Do it," Nick says, and pushes Joe's head down.
Joe groans, loud and long around Nick, sucking him deep into his throat. His mouth is so tight, so wet that Nick can barely see. Everything goes white behind his eyes and his hips lurch off the couch. Joe gags a little, but when Nick tries to stop to see if he's okay Joe just waves a hand, keeps going and sucks him even harder. He twists his tongue around Nick's length, up to the head and then back down. His fingers are working the base, getting spit-slick and trailing over Nick's balls, up and under the bottom of his thigh. Nick wonders if Joe is going to do that--is he going to put his fingers--
And then there's one there, a little damp, kind of rough and a lot bigger than Nick had expected.
"J-Joe. Ung. W-what--"
Joe's mouth slides off him with a wet pop! "Please, Nicky, I have to try--"
Nick is nodding before he can even think about it. "Yeah, okay. C-come on, put it--"
Joe's finger finally slides right up against Nick's hole, and Nick can't take it. He grabs Joe's hair and yanks, trying to get Joe back on his dick and missing. Joe's mouth drags spit over the side of him, winds up sloppy and messy on his balls, the indside of his thigh. He sucks Nick gently and pushes a little more with his finger, a little harder, trying to get deeper, and Nick can't stop thinking about how good this is, how much he wants Joe like this again, but maybe even more next time. He wants all of Joe's finger, two fingers. He wants - Christ - Nick wants Joe inside him. His fingers and mouth and his dick and he wants -- oh, god, he wonders if he could get Joe to fuck him. He really wants that. Nick doesn't know why he never thought of that before, why they never did this before, but now that they have, now that it's out there and something they can do, something Nick can have, he wants more of it, all of it.
"Joe, 'm'gonna--" Nick warns, and then he's coming, loads of it warm and sticky all over Joe's mouth and chin.
Joe wipes his face off on the shoulder of his t-shirt, and then looks up, smiling sheepishly. Nick feels boneless on the couch, kind of wrecked and stupid, like he just came his brains out on his brother's face while watching porn on the couch. Which is kind of exactly what happened. Nick thinks he should feel weirder right now than he does. He waits for the freakout he was expecting to come, and when it doesn't he lets himself smile stupidly at Joe, full on with teeth and everything.
"So...hey," Nick says.
Joe grins back. "Hi."
Nick looks down at where the front of Joe's sweats are tented out. He can see a damp spot right at the head of Joe's dick, and just thinking about it, getting his hands and mouth on Joe the way Joe just did to him has Nick's fingers itching. He wants to touch Joe now too. Touch his dick and suck him off and put his fingers inside Joe right here, now, but even better than Joe did, even longer.
Nick slides to the floor and yanks his pants up. He pushes Joe over, then gets between his legs and grins down at him. "You ready?" he asks.
Joe laughs, a little breathless. "Uh, yeah. You, uh--you want me to put another movie in or something?"
Nick smirks. "Forget the movie," he says, and slides his hand into Joe's sweats.
-END-