Happy Holidays, that_1_incident!
Author: myjadedhavok
Recipient: that_1_incident
Title: All He’s Ever Known
Characters: Mostly Nick and Joe, with appearances by Kevin, Frankie, Mama and Papa Jonas, and a handful of unimportant original characters that remain nameless.
Pairings: Nick/Joe.
Rating: PG, PG-13 for slash and incest
Wordcount: 7,140
Warnings: Slash, incest, religion, and angst.
Disclaimer: I do not own, know, or claim to be associated with any member of the Jonas family in any way, shape, or form. This never happened; it is a work of fiction created for the amusement and enjoyment of a complete stranger who happens to share the same interests as I.
A/N: This story would not have been completed if not for the Nick Jonas and the Administration song Who I Am. I’d like to thank sillyfax, vanessatolins, dancinginastorm, and danieldp for listening to me whine, encouraging me, and helping me through several, several rough spots along the way. Special thanks, of course, to my beta trytryagain. Any mistakes you find are entirely my fault, probably because I disregarded her advice. Happy holidays to that_1_incident, hope you enjoy it, dear.
Summary: Nick is faced with the biggest decision of his life: a choice between the God he has always had faith in and the brother he has always loved.
Nick understands that his values in life are different than those of his peers. That he's not like other seventeen-year-olds. He understands this, accepts this. He has never fit in with others his age. There has always been a void there, between he and them.
His family, his brothers, his music, that is all he has.
That, and his Faith.
Nick believes, with everything in him. He doesn’t know any other way to live but with faith and trust in God. It's all he has ever known.
It's a Sunday and the Jonas family does not work on Sunday. Nick rises early, showers, and then wakes Joe. They make their beds and straighten their motel room before going down to meet the rest of their family. Everyone joins hands and prays, and eat breakfast together before they go into their parents’ room. Their father takes out the family bible, its cover creased, its pages yellowed by age, and they all settle in.
Usually, their mother and Kevin sit on the small loveseats available in the nicer rooms, with the younger three brothers on the floor. Joe likes to sit so that he can lean his head on their mother’s knee, as if he were still a little boy. Nick thinks that she likes it as well; that she enjoys the way Joe lets her run her fingers through his hair. Nick started pulling away from her soothing touches when he got sick, when every show of concern made him angry and defensive, and Frankie has been pulling away from their parents since he was about five, too independent for them.
Nick likes to sit next to Joe, his back pressed to Kevin’s legs, likes to rest his head on Joe’s shoulder, take his hand and twist their fingers together. Frankie is always reaching for his brothers, too, laying down with his head in Nick’s lap and trusting that Nick won’t say a word when he texts Madison Lovato behind the folds of his clothes.
Nick loses himself in his father’s voice as he quotes scripture and speaks about God’s plan, His love, and His forgiveness. He feels at peace, surrounded by his brothers and God. It isn’t something he ever wants to give up or be parted from.
But he knows that one day he will have to give it up. Kevin’s engaged now, he'll be moving on soon. He has a new life that is about to begin, one that Nick will be a part of but not as completely as he’s involved in the life Kevin leads now. Kevin will be a good husband, Nick knows this. He’ll be a good father, too, and Nick knows that life is fast approaching.
It is harder to imagine Joe leaving him, moving on to a life that isn't focused on Nick.
Realistically, Nick knows that it is only a matter time. Joe is still young, in many ways younger than Nick is. Sometimes, Nick feels like they were born in reverse, like Joe’s impatience got the better of him and really Nick was supposed to have been born first. It’s a silly thought. Nick can’t imagine his life without Joe there to catch him when he fell and give him whatever he asked for, usually before Nick could even realize he was going to ask.
Joe is tugging Nick to his feet before Nick really knows what is happening. His hands are warm in Nick’s, the feel of his ring against Nick's skin as familiar as Nick’s own. His grin is wide and bright, as easy to Joe as breathing. Nick’s smile always comes fleetingly, nervous and hesitant. He's too aware of it, too aware of the millions of eyes that pick it apart trying to find its secrets. So Nick keeps it hidden as best he can. Joe always seems to know when he’s smiling for them both.
Joe pulls him into their room, talking a mile a minute about everything and anything and nothing at all. Not that it matters, not the words themselves because anything Joe says Nick already knows and was there to witness firsthand. It’s just Joe and the sound of his voice.
Joe pushes them down onto a bed, twists their legs together and wraps himself around Nick. They share the same air, the same breath, as Joe talks, on and on and on, and Nick’s eyes shut. He can still feel God, feel His love in the room with them, pressing down upon them, but mostly he feels Joe and Joe’s love. Sometimes he thinks there isn’t a difference between the two.
Nick is tired. He’s worn out and irritated, exhausted from the three interviews they’ve done and aware that they still have another one to do before the show tonight. He wants to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.
Joe wraps an arm around his shoulders and Nick sighs, lets himself slump and lean into his brother’s side. His head falls back onto Joe’s shoulder, the top of it bumping Joe’s jaw. Joe tangles his fingers in Nick’s hair, scratching blunt nails across his scalp before tugging lightly at a curl.
They stop to get something to eat. Joe leads Nick into the restaurant with a hand at the small of his back while Nick drapes an arm protectively around Frankie’s shoulders and Kevin wants a half-step in front of them, next to Rob. They get a booth out of the way and Joe slides in against the window, dragging Nick after him.
Nick’s stomach rumbles, letting him know that he’s starving. He scans the menu a few times, but can’t decide what to order. He looks to Joe to ask him what he’s having. Joe’s menu is lying on the table top untouched while Joe himself has gone still against Nick’s side. Nick frowns, worried.
Joe’s looking out the window, attention caught by something outside. His lips are drawn up into the slightest of smiles, soft and wistful, and his eyes are sad and full of longing. It tears Nick's heart to shreds to see his brother look so alone and he follows Joe’s gaze.
There’s a group hanging around in front of the club next door, roughly half a dozen scene kids that are all caught somewhere between “teenager” and “adult.” Nick isn’t sure what has caught Joe’s attention, but once his own eyes fall upon a pair of the teenagers, Nick can’t look away.
They’re both male. They’re standing in the cluster, clearly a part of it yet completely lost in one another. One has bleached out hair that sticks out from beneath a beanie, skinny jeans and a hoodie, while the other is a few inches taller with dark shaggy straight hair and a scarf wrapped around his neck. They’re both laughing, standing in one another’s space. As Nick watches, the taller boy reaches out and hooks a finger in the other boy's belt loop, tugging him even closer. The blonde tilts his head back and the brunette ducks his head and kisses the blonde’s beaming smile.
“What can I get for you?” The waitress makes Nick jump when she suddenly appears at his side. He flushes all over, cheeks going burning hot. Kevin frowns at him and Joe’s eyes tear away from the window to fix on Nick, full of concern.
Nick can’t meet their eyes. He shrugs and pushes his menu away, “Not that hungry.”
Joe scoffs and pinches Nick’s side. “You need to eat, doofus," he says, rolling his eyes. Turning to the waitress he adds, "We’ll both have the house special.”
Nick doesn’t acknowledge Joe, instead fixing his eyes on his silverware.
Nick’s never thought much about gay people before. He knows they exist out there, he’s probably met more than his fair share, but it isn’t something he thinks about. He knows that homosexuality is a sin, but the boys outside look happy. Nick knows love when he sees it. He sees it every time his parents are in a room together, every time Kevin beams like an idiot just because Dani texted him, and he can see that they're in love. How can love like that, so clearly honest and true, ever be a sin?
Nick shakes his hair into his face, as if he can shake such thoughts right out of his head. Joe reaches over and grabs his hand, twisting their fingers together. His thumb rubs across the inside of Nick's wrist, and Nick relaxes almost instantly against him. When Nick glances over, Joe is still frowning, brow wrinkled up in worry and concern.
Nick smiles and shrugs. Joe relaxes, understanding that it was nothing to worry about, just Nick getting lost in his head again. He throws his arms around Nick’s shoulders, hugs him tight and kisses his cheek briefly, then launches into a conversation with Kevin, talking a mile a minute about a band they heard on the radio the other day.
Nick doesn’t listen to the words so much, just takes comfort in his brother-his confidant, his best friend, Joe-against his side, one arm stretched across Nick’s shoulders, keeping him close and safe and protected. It feels good, feels right. More than anything, Nick is thankful that God gave him to Joe. He doesn’t want to imagine what life he would have had if Joe hadn’t always been there for him.
Kevin is a nervous wreck as their mother tries to teach him how to dance. Nick sits on the stage with Joe and Frankie, grinning broadly as she adjusts his hand on her waist and reminds him to lead with his right foot. She coaxes him gently, one two three, one two three, one two three, and Frankie picks at the fraying hem of his pants, rolls his eyes and declares they better not expect him to dance with any girls.
Joe ruffles Frankie’s curls and jumps down from the stage. His fingers wrap around Nick’s wrist, tugging Nick down to the floor with him. He’s grinning wide, teeth gleaming white and eyes shining, as he pulls Nick up against him, one hand at the small of Nick’s back while his other holds Nick’s tightly. Nick can’t do anything but laugh and let himself be waltzed around their mother and brother, Joe spinning them in circles.
Neither of them are particularly good dancers, but Nick doesn’t falter once as he lets Joe lead him through the elaborate steps. It’s as easy as breathing to trust Joe, to relax in his arms and not worry about anything but the happy, contagious laughter that fell from Joe’s lips and spreads through Nick like wildfire.
He isn’t even aware that Kevin and their mother have stopped dancing to watch them, that Kevin is laughing and their mother is smiling and Frankie is rolling his eyes and saying something about how all his brothers are secretly girls. He doesn’t notice at all.
With a week to go before Kevin’s wedding, Nick and Joe are helping their brother pack up his room. Kevin and Danielle picked out a house nearby, but Nick isn’t sure how he feels about his oldest brother not being right there whenever he needed someone to talk to that wasn’t Joe.
“Just a phone call away, Nicky,” Kevin promises with a fond smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his little brother's forehead.
Nick nods, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the box he just finished duct taping. He thinks about the shoe box he has hidden under his bed, a housewarming present for Kevin if he can work up the guts to give it to him. It’s a simple, silly thing; a box filled with pictures and memories and pieces of their childhood, as if Kevin having them would solidify Kevin’s promise not to forget about him. There’s a CD, too, with songs Nick has written specifically with Kevin in mind over the years: a silly song he wrote when he was eleven and Kevin first met Danielle, a more serious one he wrote after he got sick about strength and courage and how everything Nick knows about either he learned from Kevin, a lifetime of songs he’s never shown anyone but thinks Kevin deserves to hear.
“I know,” Nick mumbles eventually, even though Kevin has already wandered off to stop Joe from stealing another one of his scarves.
Nick escapes to his own room, feeling too open and exposed to watch as Kevin’s slowly empties out. He sits down at the end of his bed and runs a hand through his hair before reaching down to pull the box from its hiding spot. He stares down at it as Joe slips into the room.
“He’d like it, Nick.”
Nick hasn’t shown Joe the box, hasn’t talked about it or mentioned it or anything. Still, it doesn’t surprise him that Joe knows about it, because Joe knows everything about him, even when Nick tries to keep it a secret.
Joe sits down next to him, curls an arm around Nick’s waist and tugs him closer. He kisses Nick’s temple and then digs his chin into Nick’s shoulder. “I’m not ever gonna leave you, Nick. You’ll never be alone.”
Nick’s attempts to shrug him off get him nowhere; Joe just digs his fingers into Nick’s hip and bites sharply at his ear to still him.
“You can’t promise that.”
“Sure I can,” Joe replies with a lopsided grin. “Is that what you’ve been freaking out over? ‘Fraid I’m gonna leave you?”
“No,” Nick mutters, but even he can hear the sulky pout to his voice. Joe huffs and Nick can almost hear him roll his eyes.
“Don’t be stupid, stupid. Never gonna leave you. You’re Nick; can’t leave you behind. Love you too much to do that.”
Nick nearly goes limp with relief, sagging into Joe’s side. “Promise me, Joey?”
Joe takes his hand, thumb rubbing and playing with the ring on Nick’s finger. “I promise.”
Nick’s pretty sure he’s alone in the house. He’s had a song in his head begging to be let out, the notes fluttering around in his head and thrumming beneath his skin. He already knows it isn’t something he wants anyone else to hear, something he wants to keep close. It’s too personal, too honest. It’s one of those songs that’ll leave Nick open and exposed and aching.
He slips behind his baby grand, fingers sliding along the polished black surface, leaving smudges behind. He shifts his hips, finding a comfortable position, then places his feet at the petals and takes a breath. On the exhale, he pushes the cover up, folding it back and away to display the eighty-eight keys below.
Nick’s shoulders roll back instinctively, his spine going perfectly straight. He runs through scales; it's an easy practiced motion that doesn’t require him to think or feel, just listen. Once he’s sure the piano is in tune, he lifts his hands from the keys and pauses.
Long fingers flutter over the keys, dancing along but not yet pressing them hard enough to draw forth a note. His eyes flutter shut as he continues to draw his fingers along the keys, settling them and finally pressing down.
The first note that fills the silence vibrates up Nick’s arms and into his chest. The tightness beneath his sternum shifts and loosens just slightly and Nick lets his fingers dance, lets the music flow from him. He doesn’t try and push or pull it forth, doesn’t try and make it into something concrete that he could show off.
Notes flow and clash as Nick plays, fingers moving effortlessly. His head falls back, eyes still shut, and he smiles blissfully as everything just rushes out from inside. He feels light for the first time in ages, free and young again.
When hands fall onto his shoulders, Nick’s fingers falter, hitting a sour note. He opens his eyes to see Joe beaming down at him and Nick’s smile returns. Joe shifts Nick to the side, making room for himself on the bench. Joe's fingers are slower and clumsier on the piano so Nick slows his hands. Once Joe picks up the rhythm, he follow Nick's lead, and they’re playing together for the first time in years.
Joe’s laughter blends perfectly with the music and Nick knows he wrote it with this in mind, just him and his brother and music, and he wishes time would stand still, this moment going on for the rest of eternity.
It ends, like all things must. Joe jerks his head towards the stairs and tugs on Nick’s hand. As he lowers the lid back over the keys, Nick wonders if maybe he caught a glimpse of what heaven will be like.
Nick's always been certain that his life was leading up to something grand. He never what it would be, just eagerly looked forward to the day when everything would click into place.
Nick wakes up in Joe’s bed. It isn’t unusual; Nick falls asleep in Joe’s bed, or with Joe in his own, so often that no one blinks an eye to find them curled up together. Joe’s hair is soft against Nick’s cheek, messy curls mixing with his own. Nick’s arm is thrown across Joe’s chest, his body settled against the length of Joe. Joe’s arm is curled around him, fingers buried into his hair.
He’s warm and comfortable and doesn’t want to get up. His alarm won't be going off for a while yet so he doesn’t see any reason to get up. Smiling, he snuggles closer to Joe and lets his mind drift into a pleasant, sleepy state.
Joe mumbles something, and shifts closer. His fingers tighten in Nick’s hair and Nick’s head tips back automatically. Joe’s nose bumps against his cheek and his breath tickles Nick’s lips, hot and kind of stale. The feeling is strange and Nick chases it with his tongue, wetting his suddenly dry lips.
Joe shifts again, moving impossibly closer. Their lips slip and slide together, warm and wet. Still half asleep, Nick smiles against the gentle pressure and Joe hums, the quiet sound vibrating into Nick’s mouth. He laughs against Joe's mouth, a quiet sound swallowed by the firm press of Joe's lips. Nick moans into the kiss.
Kiss.
Nick jerks away, suddenly very much awake. He scrambles backwards, yanking himself out of his brother's arms, only to fall right off the bed. The cheap motel carpet felt rough against his bare skin, chaffing his back and arms, but he hardly notices.
He can hear Joe grumble, then the quiet before calling out Nick's name. Nick shakes his head, confused and disbelieving, and rolls onto his hands and knees. He half crawls, half flies into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Staring at the mirror, he sees skin too pale and too bare, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in just his boxers. His eyes are strangely dark, his mouth wet and red. His hands are shaking. Nick licks at his lips, tasting something faintly cherry and knows its Joe. Joe, who wears cherry Chapstick and applies it constantly, until Nick can smell cherries whenever he gets close enough.
Nick sits down hard on the toilet seat, staring at his reflection. For the first time in his life, he ignores Joe, silent while his brother pounds on the bathroom door.
“Nick? Nick. Nicky! Nick, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong? Nick isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or get sick.
He’s in love with his brother.
The knowledge is sudden and consuming. Nick knows it with every single cell in his body, knows it with the same certainty he knows that Joe loves him and that, no matter what, they can never be together.
It’s wrong.
Everything is wrong.
Nick drops his chin to his chest, fists his hands into his hair. He hunches over his knees and weeps.
Joe’s cries grow louder and more desperate, tears audible in the way Nick’s name hitches and cracks from his lips, and all it does is make Nick shake harder.
Nick doesn’t leave the bathroom until it’s been quiet on the other side of the door for at least an hour. He’s sure still Joe’s out there if only because he can’t imagine Joe leaving his side now after seventeen years of stubbornly refusing to. But he’s stopped begging Nick to let him in, stopped crying, stopped trying to convince him to come out.
He’s right. Joe’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall opposite the bathroom door. His eyes are red, puffy and swollen. His bottom lip is bruised and bleeding, sharp white teeth still worrying at the fragile tissue. He looks as battered and broken as Nick feels inside, but when Nick shuffles out he looks up with eyes suddenly bright with hope.
Nick ignores him completely, unable to meet his brother's gaze. He walks over to his bag, and digs out some clothes-blue slacks, neatly pressed, and a wrinkled, wadded up t-shirt. They don’t even match, but Nick’s so far beyond caring. He pulls them on quickly, jerks his necklace from beneath the shirt, and grabs his tennis shoes, not bothering with socks.
Joe grabs for his hand on the way to the door, but Nick flinches away.
“Nick.” It’s barely a whisper, quiet and pleading.
Nick pauses with his hand on the door handle. His eyes slide shut and he almost can’t open the door. He wishes he could curl up with Joe under the bed, hide away like they did when Nick was five and lost his father’s wedding band down the kitchen sink.
But he can’t. Opening the door, he walks out and leaves Joe in a crumpled ball on the floor.
Joe tells their parents he isn’t feeling well. Nick watches as their mother excuses herself from the group to go check on him and doesn’t miss when she returns, frowning and looking concerned. She speaks briefly with their dad and that night’s concert is called off, just like that.
It gives Nick time to convince Kevin to trade rooms with him. If he can get Frankie on his side, Nick’s pretty sure he can avoid Joe for at least a week.
Frankie finds Nick first. He’s frowning at Nick, not quite accusing because he’s always been rather blatant about the fact that Nick is his favorite, when he sits down next to him. Nick had thought he’d found the most random abandoned corridor the hotel could offer, but then ninjas probably couldn’t hide from Frankie.
“You and Joe are fighting.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because you’re not with him,” Frankie states matter-of-factly. “That means you’re fighting.”
Nick shakes his head. “Not exactly, Frank.”
“What’s going on?”
Nick sighs. “You wouldn’t understand. Sometimes… sometimes you have to hurt the people you love, for the better.”
Frankie’s nose wrinkles up. “That’s stupid, Nick. Why would you hurt Joe? You love Joe.”
“Yeah… yeah, I do. But, like I said, it’s for the better.”
Frankie is quiet for a minute and then he sighs heavily, sounding just like Nick. “Fine. I’ll tell Mom I wanna room with you because Kevin’s snoring again.”
“It makes Kevin pout when you make fun of his snore,” Nick points out, even as he smiles and wraps an arm around Frankie’s shoulders. He drops a kiss atop of the youngest Jonas’ curls and Frankie rolls his eyes.
“You owe me.” There’s a pause and then Frankie shoves at Nick. “Loser.”
It’s been a month. Joe is still miserable and everyone has been shooting looks between Nick and Joe, trying to figure out what happened. Nick is tense, his levels fluctuating all over the place. He can’t sleep, his appetite has vanished, and he’s becoming less and less concerned with staying healthy.
His music has left him. For as long as Nick can remember, his head has been filled with notes, but now it's empty, and he's at a loss for how to deal with it. He stares blankly down at his guitar, thumb plucking absently at the strings.
“Nicholas.”
Nick jumps even though he’s been waiting for Joe to search him out since the tour ended. There are dark circles under his eyes and he’s lost almost as much weight as Nick.
“Nick, we need to talk.”
Nick shakes his head. “I need to go help Mom-”
“Mom’s not home. And neither is Dad or Kevin or Frankie. It’s just us.”
Nick swallows hard and looks away from his brother. “Right.”
“Nicky, come on. I just want you to talk to me.”
“About what, Joe?”
“About why you’re doing this to us! About why you won’t look at me! Why you haven’t talked to me since-”
“Since we kissed?” Nick interrupts sharply.
Joe’s mouth snaps shut and he wilts a little. “Yeah.”
“Joe, it's- it’s wrong. We’re brothers.”
Joe moves suddenly, grabbing Nick by both shoulders. Nick’s guitar falls from his lap, but neither pay it any mind. Joe’s face is inches from Nick and suddenly Nick can’t breathe.
“What I feel for you could never be wrong, Nicholas.”
“It’s a sin.”
Joe growls, shakes the hair from his eyes, and pushes further into Nick’s space, straddling his lap and kissing him. Nick makes a muffled noise of protest, but Joe ignores him, pressing closer. His fingers twist into Nick’s hair, tilting his head back. The angle changes and suddenly their mouths fit together perfectly.
“Joe,” Nick gasps, tearing away. Joe doesn’t let him go far, keeps their foreheads pressed together.
“Stop fighting it,” Joe begs.
“I’m sorry,” Nick whispers, wrapping his fingers around Joe’s wrists and pulling his hands out of Nick's hair. Slipping out from under Joe, Nick flees from the room.
It’s even harder than the last time.
The thing is, Nick doesn’t think it’s supposed to be like this. He doesn’t think that God would want him, or Joe, to hurt like this, to ache for one another. Nick’s falling apart without Joe and, if anything, Joe is fairing even worse. They need one another; Nick knows it's slowly killing them both, him staying away.
He's sure God wouldn’t want it this way. If it was wrong, he thinks, why did God make them like this? Why did He give Nick to Joe? Why did He make them brothers, fill them with so much love, only to forbid that love? What plan could He possibly have?
Nick's never had such thoughts before. The closest thing to doubt he’s ever felt was when he made the decision to wear his ring. Kevin had been the first to ask their parents about the rings some of their friends wore, and was the first of them to wear one. Joe had demanded one for himself because Joe always wanted whatever Kevin-or Nick or Frankie-had. Nick had thought about it. He’d taken his time, waiting until he was sure he could keep the promise to himself and to God. It took six months of questioning everything about himself and his Faith before Nick asked his parents for his own ring.
This doesn't feel anything like that.
For the first time in his life, he can't feel the Lord with him, can't feel His love or His presence and it frightens him. He's lost, confused and so very alone. He needs someone to talk to, someone to help him make sense of what's happening to him.
Anytime Nick has questions, he's always gone to his dad. He takes the time to help Nick understand things and speaks to him like an equal. Nick's always been close to him, not like Joe who seemed to seek out their mom first, his brothers second, and their father only as a last resort. Nick thinks it’s because they’re so different. Joe is more like their mother, soft and easy going while Nick takes after their father, sure and serious. Nick's positive that he is the only one who can answer Nick’s questions.
“Dad? Can we… can we talk?”
Kevin Sr. looks surprised, but he welcomes Nick into his office. Nick hasn’t sought him out like this-as Nick, not as part of the Jonas Brothers-in a long time.
“What’s wrong, Nick? Is this about Joseph?”
Nick hesitates, but finally shakes his head. “No. I had… I have some questions.”
There’s silence as Nick’s father waits for him to speak, eyebrows raised slightly. Nick doesn’t feel rushed; his father has always been patient and willing to let him find his composure and seek the right words.
“Do you think that it could ever be wrong to love someone?” Nick finally asks. It isn’t exactly what he wants to ask, but it’s a good place to start.
“I assume you’re talking about a romantic love.” Kevin Sr. pauses long enough for Nick to nod. “Well, then, I believe that true love, which can only grow out of mutual respect and affection, is a beautiful thing when shared between a woman and a man.”
Nick frowns at that. Between a woman and a man. That seems… so specific. “But what about when it isn’t between a woman and a man?”
“You’re talking about homosexuality.” It’s a statement, not a question. Nick looks up at his father from beneath his bangs and licks his lips nervously. His father’s face is impassive, lacking the disgust Nick had expected. Nick nods. “The Lord’s Word states that men lying with men, and woman with woman, is detestable.”
Nick, of course, was well aware of that particular verse in Leviticus. “Yes, but we don't live according to the Old Testament, do we? We follow Christ.”
“Yes, but in Romans 1:27, Paul makes it clear that men who abandon the natural relations with women are perverse. We are all sinners, Nick.”
“If it’s wrong, why does God make them gay? It's… it’s how you’re born, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the general conclusion is that homosexuals are born with the urge to commit such sins,” his father pauses here, his expression rippling for the first time. Nick can see that the general consistence might be that it isn’t a choice, but his father clearly doesn’t share that opinion. “However, that is not the work of God. That is the devil attempting to lure man into his ways, to drag us all into hell and damnation. It is the choice of a homosexual to act in the face of that sin, or to resist the temptation of sin and live a Christian life.”
Nick is sure that what he feels for Joe isn’t the work of the devil. It isn’t possible for Satan to have created something so pure and right feeling. Satan deals in lust and temptation and sin, not in love.
“But, that’s lust, right? Temptation and lust, that is what the devil works with. Not love.”
“No. Love, in its purest forms, exists between a woman and a man, a beautiful connection that can be honored before God.”
“You mean a man can’t love another man?”
“Not in the way he can love a woman. Homosexuals feel only lust for one another.”
Nick falls silent, more confused than he’d been before he had sought out his father’s council. That doesn’t sound like the God he has believed in, the God he has loved. He knows that he loves Joe, it’s undeniable. God declared it impossible, yet he can still feel it, as sure as he once felt God’s love.
“Why the sudden curiosity, Nicholas? Do you fear that you…”
For a moment, Nick considers spilling his secret to his father, as he has so many times before. He imagines the look of disgust on his father’s face, directed not only at him, but also at Joe. Their father would blame Joe, for being older and therefore responsible for Nick. He would accuse Joe of tempting Nick, twist Joe into the form of a serpent and Nick the unknowing Eve.
“No,” Nick lies. It is the first lie he has ever told either of his parents. It lays heavy on his conscious and tastes like ash against his tongue. “I just saw a couple of boys kissing and wondered.”
“Pray for them, Nicholas, and hope that they find it in themselves to repent and ask for the forgiveness of our Lord.”
Nick nods, but he pays the words no mind. He leaves his father’s office, shaken.
Everything he’s believed in, everything he has trusted in… Could it all be a lie?
Nick wonders if you have to be Catholic to seek out confession. He isn’t looking to change religions, he just wants answers.
It doesn’t make sense. Nothing seems to makes sense anymore.
He misses Joe. That at least makes sense. This is the longest he’s gone without Joe’s attention his whole life. The longest he’s ever gone without Joe tackling him, arms wrapped tight around his chest. The longest he’s gone without Joe tickling his sides, without Joe making silly faces at him while he tries to have a serious phone conversation, without lying in Joe’s bed, talking about everything and nothing until they fall asleep with smiles on their faces.
It makes sense that Nick would miss Joe. Joe is his brother, his best friend. Of course he misses him.
But Nick also misses the warmth of Joe’s skin against his own, the slight pull of Joe’s fingers tangled in his hair, the soft, teasing brush of his lips against Nick’s.
They’ve kissed twice, and Nick craves more. Like an addict on withdrawal.
It’s so wrong.
Or is it? It’s Joe, and that changes everything, doesn’t it?
He's the only one in the world that truly knows Nick, everything about Nick. Joe can take one look at him and know that he’s slipping, getting too lost in his head and the music, and pull Nick back out again. He always knows exactly how to make Nick smile, how to coax out a laugh. He noticed Nick was sick when no one else did. He would gladly give his own life for Nick’s in a second, happily and without regret.
Yeah.
Joe changes everything.
He doesn’t look surprised to see Nick. He opens his bedroom door wider, a silent invitation.
Joe would never lock Nick out. He would welcome Nick back with open arms, again and again, even if Nick’s only intent was to keep hurting him, shoving him away and breaking his heart. Joe would rip his heart from his chest and hand it over, all Nick had to do was ask.
“Do you still believe in God, Joe?” Nick hadn’t meant to ask that, but it slips from his lips as he steps into the room. He shuts the door behind him and, after a seconds hesitation, twists the lock.
Joe sits down on his bed, eyes dark and serious as he studies Nick.
“Yes,” he answers, finally. “But, I don’t think the God I believe in is the same one that Dad, or Mom, or Kevin believes in. I believe that God is loving and forgiving. I believe that he gave you to me. I think he wants me to keep you safe, to love you and protect you.”
People think that Joe isn’t smart, but Nick has always known how intelligent he really is. He’s reminded of that now. He makes more sense than their father had. It’s easy to believe him, with his own heart echoing agreement.
Joe continues fiercely. “No one could ever love you as much as I do, Nick. It isn’t possible.”
Nick knows that. He’s always known that no one will love him as much as Joe, like no one could ever love Joe as much as Nick does.
“I’m scared,” Nick admits.
“I am, too. I have been for years.”
“When?”
When did you fall in love with me? When did you realize?
“When you got sick,” Joe answers immediately. “I thought for sure you were going to die. I thought you were going to leave me. I was thinking of ways to follow, before I realized that was pretty dumb and you wouldn’t want that.”
Nick thinks about Joe dying, really dying, for him. He shudders. The thought alone nearly makes him sick, makes his stomach churn and twist uncomfortably.
“It’s okay to be scared, Nick.”
Nick nods, steps closer to Joe. Joe smiles up at him weakly. He looks thin and exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes. Beautiful. Nick wonders if Joe thought the same thing when Nick was lying in the hospital bed, pale and thin and sick. He wonders if Joe thinks he's beautiful now.
Joe tugs him into his lap, and wraps his arms around Nick. Nick’s arms are trapped to his sides, but he could easily break away if he wanted to; he doesn’t. He’s so tired of fighting this, so tired of trying to live without his brother. He drops his head down onto Joe’s shoulder, and rests his hands on Joe’s hips.
He knows now-knew then, too, but didn’t want to admit it-that it was never much of a choice. Joe was always going to win.
Nick thought that everything would change, but it doesn’t. Things go back to the way they were before, falling flawlessly into place. It seemed too easy, but when he told Joe that, Joe tried to smother him with a pillow.
Nick’s nervous at first. He stands in the kitchen, watching his mother teach Frankie how to make pancakes, and jumps a foot when Joe wraps him up in a hug and kisses him wetly on the cheek. He shifts guiltily, wide eyes looking to their mother in a desperate hope that she won’t be staring at them in shocked disgust.
All that happens, though, is Frankie rolls his eyes and their mother pats them both on the cheek. She kisses Nick’s forehead and smiles. “I’m glad you two worked things out. I can’t remember you ever fighting before.”
Joe twists their fingers together and beams at her, teeth flashing white and bright. “Don’t worry, Mommy, it won’t happen again.”
Their mom laughs softly, kisses Joe on the cheek, and returns to Frankie’s side when he yells, “Mom! The pancakes are on fire!”
Joe grabs an apple from the bowl on the island and hands it to Nick. “Eat, doofus. You’re so skinny. Have you checked your levels lately?”
Nick rolls his eyes and takes a bite.
Joe grins and kisses his cheek again, “I’m gonna go tan. This perfect golden glow doesn’t just happen, you know.”
He slips on his ridiculously large sunglasses and flashes Nick a grin before he heads for the back door. He calls “love you” over his shoulder before the door slams shut behind him and no one blinks an eye.
After that, Nick relaxes.
The first Sunday into their new tour, Nick wakes up before Joe, as he typically does. He untangles their limbs, smiles fondly when Joe whines in protest and flops over onto his stomach, then pads over to the bathroom to shower.
Nick lays his ring on the counter beside the sink, his necklace next to it, and slips out of his briefs and into the shower. A few minutes later, he can hear the bathroom door open and he hides his grin with sopping wet curls. Joe is still mostly asleep, rubbing at one eye sleepily, as he joins Nick. He slips on the wet floor and Nick catches him before he can fall.
“I was gonna give you a few more minutes.”
“Cold,” Joe mumbles, stepping into the water to wrap his arms around Nick. He presses his nose into Nick’s neck and Nick can feel Joe’s smile against his skin.
Joe just stands under the water, clinging to Nick. He looks expectantly at Nick, who rolls his eyes but lathers his hands with soap and makes sure to wash every inch of Joe. Nick thinks of the phrase “cleanliness is next to godliness” and snorts quietly to himself, pretty sure that the guy who made that up probably wouldn’t apply it to what they were doing.
When he’s done with Joe, Nick quickly finishes washing himself and then leads Joe out of the shower. Joe’s clearly more awake now, grinning brightly but still making no effort to care for himself. Nick rolls his eyes again, but towel dries Joe’s dripping hair.
Joe surges forward and kisses him quick, making Nick sputter and laugh as their lips meet clumsily. Joe seems pretty proud of himself when he pulls away. He wonders back into their room, unabashed in his nakedness.
Nick wraps a towel around his waist, slips his necklace back over his head, and picks up his ring and Joe’s while he’s at it. He considers them for a moment, the near-identical bands lying side by side in his palm, and bites his lip.
He feels strangely shy when he steps out of the bathroom. Joe has face-planted onto one of the beds, probably making the blankets wet with his still damp skin. Nick kneels next to the bed and pets Joe’s wet hair, smiling at the way locks curl and tangle around his fingers.
“Joseph.”
“Hmmm?” Joe turns his face towards Nick, slits open his eyes, and smiles softly.
“I love you,” Nick states firmly.
Joe smiles even brighter. “Love you, too, Nicky.” He clumsily lays his hand on Nick’s cheek, thumb poking Nick in one nostril, making Joe giggle.
Nick captures that hand with one of his own. He sets Joe’s ring onto the bed, close to Joe’s face so he can see it, and then slips his own onto Joe’s third finger. Nick can hear Joe’s breath hitch, and then Joe scrambles up onto his knees, grabbing his ring with one hand and catching Nick’s hand with the other. Joe’s ring feels perfect, fits snug when his own was always just slightly too big.
Joe kisses Nick, hard and desperate, and Nick kisses back with just as much feeling.
Nick pulls away first. He thinks about the breakfast waiting downstairs for them, thinks about the sermon their father will deliver later in their parents’ room. He drops his towel to the floor and crawls into bed with Joe, lays his head on Joe’s shoulder. Joe’s fingers bury into his hair, tugging just slightly.
It’s time for a new Sunday tradition, Nick thinks. One where he and Joe ignore everyone else, and just stay in bed all day together.
Nick understands that he isn’t like most kids his age. He’s a rock star, for one. He’s also in love and happier than he’s ever been. Nick loves Joe with everything in him; he doesn’t know any other way to live.
It’s all he has ever known.
-END-
The Request: First time (anything from kissing to sex), religion-related angst, building up to sex rather than jumping into bed together, romantic relationships arising from friendship, fighting feelings but losing, one person being more hesitant than the other.
Recipient: that_1_incident
Title: All He’s Ever Known
Characters: Mostly Nick and Joe, with appearances by Kevin, Frankie, Mama and Papa Jonas, and a handful of unimportant original characters that remain nameless.
Pairings: Nick/Joe.
Rating: PG, PG-13 for slash and incest
Wordcount: 7,140
Warnings: Slash, incest, religion, and angst.
Disclaimer: I do not own, know, or claim to be associated with any member of the Jonas family in any way, shape, or form. This never happened; it is a work of fiction created for the amusement and enjoyment of a complete stranger who happens to share the same interests as I.
A/N: This story would not have been completed if not for the Nick Jonas and the Administration song Who I Am. I’d like to thank sillyfax, vanessatolins, dancinginastorm, and danieldp for listening to me whine, encouraging me, and helping me through several, several rough spots along the way. Special thanks, of course, to my beta trytryagain. Any mistakes you find are entirely my fault, probably because I disregarded her advice. Happy holidays to that_1_incident, hope you enjoy it, dear.
Summary: Nick is faced with the biggest decision of his life: a choice between the God he has always had faith in and the brother he has always loved.
Nick understands that his values in life are different than those of his peers. That he's not like other seventeen-year-olds. He understands this, accepts this. He has never fit in with others his age. There has always been a void there, between he and them.
His family, his brothers, his music, that is all he has.
That, and his Faith.
Nick believes, with everything in him. He doesn’t know any other way to live but with faith and trust in God. It's all he has ever known.
It's a Sunday and the Jonas family does not work on Sunday. Nick rises early, showers, and then wakes Joe. They make their beds and straighten their motel room before going down to meet the rest of their family. Everyone joins hands and prays, and eat breakfast together before they go into their parents’ room. Their father takes out the family bible, its cover creased, its pages yellowed by age, and they all settle in.
Usually, their mother and Kevin sit on the small loveseats available in the nicer rooms, with the younger three brothers on the floor. Joe likes to sit so that he can lean his head on their mother’s knee, as if he were still a little boy. Nick thinks that she likes it as well; that she enjoys the way Joe lets her run her fingers through his hair. Nick started pulling away from her soothing touches when he got sick, when every show of concern made him angry and defensive, and Frankie has been pulling away from their parents since he was about five, too independent for them.
Nick likes to sit next to Joe, his back pressed to Kevin’s legs, likes to rest his head on Joe’s shoulder, take his hand and twist their fingers together. Frankie is always reaching for his brothers, too, laying down with his head in Nick’s lap and trusting that Nick won’t say a word when he texts Madison Lovato behind the folds of his clothes.
Nick loses himself in his father’s voice as he quotes scripture and speaks about God’s plan, His love, and His forgiveness. He feels at peace, surrounded by his brothers and God. It isn’t something he ever wants to give up or be parted from.
But he knows that one day he will have to give it up. Kevin’s engaged now, he'll be moving on soon. He has a new life that is about to begin, one that Nick will be a part of but not as completely as he’s involved in the life Kevin leads now. Kevin will be a good husband, Nick knows this. He’ll be a good father, too, and Nick knows that life is fast approaching.
It is harder to imagine Joe leaving him, moving on to a life that isn't focused on Nick.
Realistically, Nick knows that it is only a matter time. Joe is still young, in many ways younger than Nick is. Sometimes, Nick feels like they were born in reverse, like Joe’s impatience got the better of him and really Nick was supposed to have been born first. It’s a silly thought. Nick can’t imagine his life without Joe there to catch him when he fell and give him whatever he asked for, usually before Nick could even realize he was going to ask.
Joe is tugging Nick to his feet before Nick really knows what is happening. His hands are warm in Nick’s, the feel of his ring against Nick's skin as familiar as Nick’s own. His grin is wide and bright, as easy to Joe as breathing. Nick’s smile always comes fleetingly, nervous and hesitant. He's too aware of it, too aware of the millions of eyes that pick it apart trying to find its secrets. So Nick keeps it hidden as best he can. Joe always seems to know when he’s smiling for them both.
Joe pulls him into their room, talking a mile a minute about everything and anything and nothing at all. Not that it matters, not the words themselves because anything Joe says Nick already knows and was there to witness firsthand. It’s just Joe and the sound of his voice.
Joe pushes them down onto a bed, twists their legs together and wraps himself around Nick. They share the same air, the same breath, as Joe talks, on and on and on, and Nick’s eyes shut. He can still feel God, feel His love in the room with them, pressing down upon them, but mostly he feels Joe and Joe’s love. Sometimes he thinks there isn’t a difference between the two.
Nick is tired. He’s worn out and irritated, exhausted from the three interviews they’ve done and aware that they still have another one to do before the show tonight. He wants to crawl into bed and sleep for a week.
Joe wraps an arm around his shoulders and Nick sighs, lets himself slump and lean into his brother’s side. His head falls back onto Joe’s shoulder, the top of it bumping Joe’s jaw. Joe tangles his fingers in Nick’s hair, scratching blunt nails across his scalp before tugging lightly at a curl.
They stop to get something to eat. Joe leads Nick into the restaurant with a hand at the small of his back while Nick drapes an arm protectively around Frankie’s shoulders and Kevin wants a half-step in front of them, next to Rob. They get a booth out of the way and Joe slides in against the window, dragging Nick after him.
Nick’s stomach rumbles, letting him know that he’s starving. He scans the menu a few times, but can’t decide what to order. He looks to Joe to ask him what he’s having. Joe’s menu is lying on the table top untouched while Joe himself has gone still against Nick’s side. Nick frowns, worried.
Joe’s looking out the window, attention caught by something outside. His lips are drawn up into the slightest of smiles, soft and wistful, and his eyes are sad and full of longing. It tears Nick's heart to shreds to see his brother look so alone and he follows Joe’s gaze.
There’s a group hanging around in front of the club next door, roughly half a dozen scene kids that are all caught somewhere between “teenager” and “adult.” Nick isn’t sure what has caught Joe’s attention, but once his own eyes fall upon a pair of the teenagers, Nick can’t look away.
They’re both male. They’re standing in the cluster, clearly a part of it yet completely lost in one another. One has bleached out hair that sticks out from beneath a beanie, skinny jeans and a hoodie, while the other is a few inches taller with dark shaggy straight hair and a scarf wrapped around his neck. They’re both laughing, standing in one another’s space. As Nick watches, the taller boy reaches out and hooks a finger in the other boy's belt loop, tugging him even closer. The blonde tilts his head back and the brunette ducks his head and kisses the blonde’s beaming smile.
“What can I get for you?” The waitress makes Nick jump when she suddenly appears at his side. He flushes all over, cheeks going burning hot. Kevin frowns at him and Joe’s eyes tear away from the window to fix on Nick, full of concern.
Nick can’t meet their eyes. He shrugs and pushes his menu away, “Not that hungry.”
Joe scoffs and pinches Nick’s side. “You need to eat, doofus," he says, rolling his eyes. Turning to the waitress he adds, "We’ll both have the house special.”
Nick doesn’t acknowledge Joe, instead fixing his eyes on his silverware.
Nick’s never thought much about gay people before. He knows they exist out there, he’s probably met more than his fair share, but it isn’t something he thinks about. He knows that homosexuality is a sin, but the boys outside look happy. Nick knows love when he sees it. He sees it every time his parents are in a room together, every time Kevin beams like an idiot just because Dani texted him, and he can see that they're in love. How can love like that, so clearly honest and true, ever be a sin?
Nick shakes his hair into his face, as if he can shake such thoughts right out of his head. Joe reaches over and grabs his hand, twisting their fingers together. His thumb rubs across the inside of Nick's wrist, and Nick relaxes almost instantly against him. When Nick glances over, Joe is still frowning, brow wrinkled up in worry and concern.
Nick smiles and shrugs. Joe relaxes, understanding that it was nothing to worry about, just Nick getting lost in his head again. He throws his arms around Nick’s shoulders, hugs him tight and kisses his cheek briefly, then launches into a conversation with Kevin, talking a mile a minute about a band they heard on the radio the other day.
Nick doesn’t listen to the words so much, just takes comfort in his brother-his confidant, his best friend, Joe-against his side, one arm stretched across Nick’s shoulders, keeping him close and safe and protected. It feels good, feels right. More than anything, Nick is thankful that God gave him to Joe. He doesn’t want to imagine what life he would have had if Joe hadn’t always been there for him.
Kevin is a nervous wreck as their mother tries to teach him how to dance. Nick sits on the stage with Joe and Frankie, grinning broadly as she adjusts his hand on her waist and reminds him to lead with his right foot. She coaxes him gently, one two three, one two three, one two three, and Frankie picks at the fraying hem of his pants, rolls his eyes and declares they better not expect him to dance with any girls.
Joe ruffles Frankie’s curls and jumps down from the stage. His fingers wrap around Nick’s wrist, tugging Nick down to the floor with him. He’s grinning wide, teeth gleaming white and eyes shining, as he pulls Nick up against him, one hand at the small of Nick’s back while his other holds Nick’s tightly. Nick can’t do anything but laugh and let himself be waltzed around their mother and brother, Joe spinning them in circles.
Neither of them are particularly good dancers, but Nick doesn’t falter once as he lets Joe lead him through the elaborate steps. It’s as easy as breathing to trust Joe, to relax in his arms and not worry about anything but the happy, contagious laughter that fell from Joe’s lips and spreads through Nick like wildfire.
He isn’t even aware that Kevin and their mother have stopped dancing to watch them, that Kevin is laughing and their mother is smiling and Frankie is rolling his eyes and saying something about how all his brothers are secretly girls. He doesn’t notice at all.
With a week to go before Kevin’s wedding, Nick and Joe are helping their brother pack up his room. Kevin and Danielle picked out a house nearby, but Nick isn’t sure how he feels about his oldest brother not being right there whenever he needed someone to talk to that wasn’t Joe.
“Just a phone call away, Nicky,” Kevin promises with a fond smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his little brother's forehead.
Nick nods, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the box he just finished duct taping. He thinks about the shoe box he has hidden under his bed, a housewarming present for Kevin if he can work up the guts to give it to him. It’s a simple, silly thing; a box filled with pictures and memories and pieces of their childhood, as if Kevin having them would solidify Kevin’s promise not to forget about him. There’s a CD, too, with songs Nick has written specifically with Kevin in mind over the years: a silly song he wrote when he was eleven and Kevin first met Danielle, a more serious one he wrote after he got sick about strength and courage and how everything Nick knows about either he learned from Kevin, a lifetime of songs he’s never shown anyone but thinks Kevin deserves to hear.
“I know,” Nick mumbles eventually, even though Kevin has already wandered off to stop Joe from stealing another one of his scarves.
Nick escapes to his own room, feeling too open and exposed to watch as Kevin’s slowly empties out. He sits down at the end of his bed and runs a hand through his hair before reaching down to pull the box from its hiding spot. He stares down at it as Joe slips into the room.
“He’d like it, Nick.”
Nick hasn’t shown Joe the box, hasn’t talked about it or mentioned it or anything. Still, it doesn’t surprise him that Joe knows about it, because Joe knows everything about him, even when Nick tries to keep it a secret.
Joe sits down next to him, curls an arm around Nick’s waist and tugs him closer. He kisses Nick’s temple and then digs his chin into Nick’s shoulder. “I’m not ever gonna leave you, Nick. You’ll never be alone.”
Nick’s attempts to shrug him off get him nowhere; Joe just digs his fingers into Nick’s hip and bites sharply at his ear to still him.
“You can’t promise that.”
“Sure I can,” Joe replies with a lopsided grin. “Is that what you’ve been freaking out over? ‘Fraid I’m gonna leave you?”
“No,” Nick mutters, but even he can hear the sulky pout to his voice. Joe huffs and Nick can almost hear him roll his eyes.
“Don’t be stupid, stupid. Never gonna leave you. You’re Nick; can’t leave you behind. Love you too much to do that.”
Nick nearly goes limp with relief, sagging into Joe’s side. “Promise me, Joey?”
Joe takes his hand, thumb rubbing and playing with the ring on Nick’s finger. “I promise.”
Nick’s pretty sure he’s alone in the house. He’s had a song in his head begging to be let out, the notes fluttering around in his head and thrumming beneath his skin. He already knows it isn’t something he wants anyone else to hear, something he wants to keep close. It’s too personal, too honest. It’s one of those songs that’ll leave Nick open and exposed and aching.
He slips behind his baby grand, fingers sliding along the polished black surface, leaving smudges behind. He shifts his hips, finding a comfortable position, then places his feet at the petals and takes a breath. On the exhale, he pushes the cover up, folding it back and away to display the eighty-eight keys below.
Nick’s shoulders roll back instinctively, his spine going perfectly straight. He runs through scales; it's an easy practiced motion that doesn’t require him to think or feel, just listen. Once he’s sure the piano is in tune, he lifts his hands from the keys and pauses.
Long fingers flutter over the keys, dancing along but not yet pressing them hard enough to draw forth a note. His eyes flutter shut as he continues to draw his fingers along the keys, settling them and finally pressing down.
The first note that fills the silence vibrates up Nick’s arms and into his chest. The tightness beneath his sternum shifts and loosens just slightly and Nick lets his fingers dance, lets the music flow from him. He doesn’t try and push or pull it forth, doesn’t try and make it into something concrete that he could show off.
Notes flow and clash as Nick plays, fingers moving effortlessly. His head falls back, eyes still shut, and he smiles blissfully as everything just rushes out from inside. He feels light for the first time in ages, free and young again.
When hands fall onto his shoulders, Nick’s fingers falter, hitting a sour note. He opens his eyes to see Joe beaming down at him and Nick’s smile returns. Joe shifts Nick to the side, making room for himself on the bench. Joe's fingers are slower and clumsier on the piano so Nick slows his hands. Once Joe picks up the rhythm, he follow Nick's lead, and they’re playing together for the first time in years.
Joe’s laughter blends perfectly with the music and Nick knows he wrote it with this in mind, just him and his brother and music, and he wishes time would stand still, this moment going on for the rest of eternity.
It ends, like all things must. Joe jerks his head towards the stairs and tugs on Nick’s hand. As he lowers the lid back over the keys, Nick wonders if maybe he caught a glimpse of what heaven will be like.
Nick's always been certain that his life was leading up to something grand. He never what it would be, just eagerly looked forward to the day when everything would click into place.
Nick wakes up in Joe’s bed. It isn’t unusual; Nick falls asleep in Joe’s bed, or with Joe in his own, so often that no one blinks an eye to find them curled up together. Joe’s hair is soft against Nick’s cheek, messy curls mixing with his own. Nick’s arm is thrown across Joe’s chest, his body settled against the length of Joe. Joe’s arm is curled around him, fingers buried into his hair.
He’s warm and comfortable and doesn’t want to get up. His alarm won't be going off for a while yet so he doesn’t see any reason to get up. Smiling, he snuggles closer to Joe and lets his mind drift into a pleasant, sleepy state.
Joe mumbles something, and shifts closer. His fingers tighten in Nick’s hair and Nick’s head tips back automatically. Joe’s nose bumps against his cheek and his breath tickles Nick’s lips, hot and kind of stale. The feeling is strange and Nick chases it with his tongue, wetting his suddenly dry lips.
Joe shifts again, moving impossibly closer. Their lips slip and slide together, warm and wet. Still half asleep, Nick smiles against the gentle pressure and Joe hums, the quiet sound vibrating into Nick’s mouth. He laughs against Joe's mouth, a quiet sound swallowed by the firm press of Joe's lips. Nick moans into the kiss.
Kiss.
Nick jerks away, suddenly very much awake. He scrambles backwards, yanking himself out of his brother's arms, only to fall right off the bed. The cheap motel carpet felt rough against his bare skin, chaffing his back and arms, but he hardly notices.
He can hear Joe grumble, then the quiet before calling out Nick's name. Nick shakes his head, confused and disbelieving, and rolls onto his hands and knees. He half crawls, half flies into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Staring at the mirror, he sees skin too pale and too bare, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in just his boxers. His eyes are strangely dark, his mouth wet and red. His hands are shaking. Nick licks at his lips, tasting something faintly cherry and knows its Joe. Joe, who wears cherry Chapstick and applies it constantly, until Nick can smell cherries whenever he gets close enough.
Nick sits down hard on the toilet seat, staring at his reflection. For the first time in his life, he ignores Joe, silent while his brother pounds on the bathroom door.
“Nick? Nick. Nicky! Nick, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
What’s wrong? Nick isn’t sure if he wants to laugh or get sick.
He’s in love with his brother.
The knowledge is sudden and consuming. Nick knows it with every single cell in his body, knows it with the same certainty he knows that Joe loves him and that, no matter what, they can never be together.
It’s wrong.
Everything is wrong.
Nick drops his chin to his chest, fists his hands into his hair. He hunches over his knees and weeps.
Joe’s cries grow louder and more desperate, tears audible in the way Nick’s name hitches and cracks from his lips, and all it does is make Nick shake harder.
Nick doesn’t leave the bathroom until it’s been quiet on the other side of the door for at least an hour. He’s sure still Joe’s out there if only because he can’t imagine Joe leaving his side now after seventeen years of stubbornly refusing to. But he’s stopped begging Nick to let him in, stopped crying, stopped trying to convince him to come out.
He’s right. Joe’s sitting on the floor, back against the wall opposite the bathroom door. His eyes are red, puffy and swollen. His bottom lip is bruised and bleeding, sharp white teeth still worrying at the fragile tissue. He looks as battered and broken as Nick feels inside, but when Nick shuffles out he looks up with eyes suddenly bright with hope.
Nick ignores him completely, unable to meet his brother's gaze. He walks over to his bag, and digs out some clothes-blue slacks, neatly pressed, and a wrinkled, wadded up t-shirt. They don’t even match, but Nick’s so far beyond caring. He pulls them on quickly, jerks his necklace from beneath the shirt, and grabs his tennis shoes, not bothering with socks.
Joe grabs for his hand on the way to the door, but Nick flinches away.
“Nick.” It’s barely a whisper, quiet and pleading.
Nick pauses with his hand on the door handle. His eyes slide shut and he almost can’t open the door. He wishes he could curl up with Joe under the bed, hide away like they did when Nick was five and lost his father’s wedding band down the kitchen sink.
But he can’t. Opening the door, he walks out and leaves Joe in a crumpled ball on the floor.
Joe tells their parents he isn’t feeling well. Nick watches as their mother excuses herself from the group to go check on him and doesn’t miss when she returns, frowning and looking concerned. She speaks briefly with their dad and that night’s concert is called off, just like that.
It gives Nick time to convince Kevin to trade rooms with him. If he can get Frankie on his side, Nick’s pretty sure he can avoid Joe for at least a week.
Frankie finds Nick first. He’s frowning at Nick, not quite accusing because he’s always been rather blatant about the fact that Nick is his favorite, when he sits down next to him. Nick had thought he’d found the most random abandoned corridor the hotel could offer, but then ninjas probably couldn’t hide from Frankie.
“You and Joe are fighting.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because you’re not with him,” Frankie states matter-of-factly. “That means you’re fighting.”
Nick shakes his head. “Not exactly, Frank.”
“What’s going on?”
Nick sighs. “You wouldn’t understand. Sometimes… sometimes you have to hurt the people you love, for the better.”
Frankie’s nose wrinkles up. “That’s stupid, Nick. Why would you hurt Joe? You love Joe.”
“Yeah… yeah, I do. But, like I said, it’s for the better.”
Frankie is quiet for a minute and then he sighs heavily, sounding just like Nick. “Fine. I’ll tell Mom I wanna room with you because Kevin’s snoring again.”
“It makes Kevin pout when you make fun of his snore,” Nick points out, even as he smiles and wraps an arm around Frankie’s shoulders. He drops a kiss atop of the youngest Jonas’ curls and Frankie rolls his eyes.
“You owe me.” There’s a pause and then Frankie shoves at Nick. “Loser.”
It’s been a month. Joe is still miserable and everyone has been shooting looks between Nick and Joe, trying to figure out what happened. Nick is tense, his levels fluctuating all over the place. He can’t sleep, his appetite has vanished, and he’s becoming less and less concerned with staying healthy.
His music has left him. For as long as Nick can remember, his head has been filled with notes, but now it's empty, and he's at a loss for how to deal with it. He stares blankly down at his guitar, thumb plucking absently at the strings.
“Nicholas.”
Nick jumps even though he’s been waiting for Joe to search him out since the tour ended. There are dark circles under his eyes and he’s lost almost as much weight as Nick.
“Nick, we need to talk.”
Nick shakes his head. “I need to go help Mom-”
“Mom’s not home. And neither is Dad or Kevin or Frankie. It’s just us.”
Nick swallows hard and looks away from his brother. “Right.”
“Nicky, come on. I just want you to talk to me.”
“About what, Joe?”
“About why you’re doing this to us! About why you won’t look at me! Why you haven’t talked to me since-”
“Since we kissed?” Nick interrupts sharply.
Joe’s mouth snaps shut and he wilts a little. “Yeah.”
“Joe, it's- it’s wrong. We’re brothers.”
Joe moves suddenly, grabbing Nick by both shoulders. Nick’s guitar falls from his lap, but neither pay it any mind. Joe’s face is inches from Nick and suddenly Nick can’t breathe.
“What I feel for you could never be wrong, Nicholas.”
“It’s a sin.”
Joe growls, shakes the hair from his eyes, and pushes further into Nick’s space, straddling his lap and kissing him. Nick makes a muffled noise of protest, but Joe ignores him, pressing closer. His fingers twist into Nick’s hair, tilting his head back. The angle changes and suddenly their mouths fit together perfectly.
“Joe,” Nick gasps, tearing away. Joe doesn’t let him go far, keeps their foreheads pressed together.
“Stop fighting it,” Joe begs.
“I’m sorry,” Nick whispers, wrapping his fingers around Joe’s wrists and pulling his hands out of Nick's hair. Slipping out from under Joe, Nick flees from the room.
It’s even harder than the last time.
The thing is, Nick doesn’t think it’s supposed to be like this. He doesn’t think that God would want him, or Joe, to hurt like this, to ache for one another. Nick’s falling apart without Joe and, if anything, Joe is fairing even worse. They need one another; Nick knows it's slowly killing them both, him staying away.
He's sure God wouldn’t want it this way. If it was wrong, he thinks, why did God make them like this? Why did He give Nick to Joe? Why did He make them brothers, fill them with so much love, only to forbid that love? What plan could He possibly have?
Nick's never had such thoughts before. The closest thing to doubt he’s ever felt was when he made the decision to wear his ring. Kevin had been the first to ask their parents about the rings some of their friends wore, and was the first of them to wear one. Joe had demanded one for himself because Joe always wanted whatever Kevin-or Nick or Frankie-had. Nick had thought about it. He’d taken his time, waiting until he was sure he could keep the promise to himself and to God. It took six months of questioning everything about himself and his Faith before Nick asked his parents for his own ring.
This doesn't feel anything like that.
For the first time in his life, he can't feel the Lord with him, can't feel His love or His presence and it frightens him. He's lost, confused and so very alone. He needs someone to talk to, someone to help him make sense of what's happening to him.
Anytime Nick has questions, he's always gone to his dad. He takes the time to help Nick understand things and speaks to him like an equal. Nick's always been close to him, not like Joe who seemed to seek out their mom first, his brothers second, and their father only as a last resort. Nick thinks it’s because they’re so different. Joe is more like their mother, soft and easy going while Nick takes after their father, sure and serious. Nick's positive that he is the only one who can answer Nick’s questions.
“Dad? Can we… can we talk?”
Kevin Sr. looks surprised, but he welcomes Nick into his office. Nick hasn’t sought him out like this-as Nick, not as part of the Jonas Brothers-in a long time.
“What’s wrong, Nick? Is this about Joseph?”
Nick hesitates, but finally shakes his head. “No. I had… I have some questions.”
There’s silence as Nick’s father waits for him to speak, eyebrows raised slightly. Nick doesn’t feel rushed; his father has always been patient and willing to let him find his composure and seek the right words.
“Do you think that it could ever be wrong to love someone?” Nick finally asks. It isn’t exactly what he wants to ask, but it’s a good place to start.
“I assume you’re talking about a romantic love.” Kevin Sr. pauses long enough for Nick to nod. “Well, then, I believe that true love, which can only grow out of mutual respect and affection, is a beautiful thing when shared between a woman and a man.”
Nick frowns at that. Between a woman and a man. That seems… so specific. “But what about when it isn’t between a woman and a man?”
“You’re talking about homosexuality.” It’s a statement, not a question. Nick looks up at his father from beneath his bangs and licks his lips nervously. His father’s face is impassive, lacking the disgust Nick had expected. Nick nods. “The Lord’s Word states that men lying with men, and woman with woman, is detestable.”
Nick, of course, was well aware of that particular verse in Leviticus. “Yes, but we don't live according to the Old Testament, do we? We follow Christ.”
“Yes, but in Romans 1:27, Paul makes it clear that men who abandon the natural relations with women are perverse. We are all sinners, Nick.”
“If it’s wrong, why does God make them gay? It's… it’s how you’re born, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the general conclusion is that homosexuals are born with the urge to commit such sins,” his father pauses here, his expression rippling for the first time. Nick can see that the general consistence might be that it isn’t a choice, but his father clearly doesn’t share that opinion. “However, that is not the work of God. That is the devil attempting to lure man into his ways, to drag us all into hell and damnation. It is the choice of a homosexual to act in the face of that sin, or to resist the temptation of sin and live a Christian life.”
Nick is sure that what he feels for Joe isn’t the work of the devil. It isn’t possible for Satan to have created something so pure and right feeling. Satan deals in lust and temptation and sin, not in love.
“But, that’s lust, right? Temptation and lust, that is what the devil works with. Not love.”
“No. Love, in its purest forms, exists between a woman and a man, a beautiful connection that can be honored before God.”
“You mean a man can’t love another man?”
“Not in the way he can love a woman. Homosexuals feel only lust for one another.”
Nick falls silent, more confused than he’d been before he had sought out his father’s council. That doesn’t sound like the God he has believed in, the God he has loved. He knows that he loves Joe, it’s undeniable. God declared it impossible, yet he can still feel it, as sure as he once felt God’s love.
“Why the sudden curiosity, Nicholas? Do you fear that you…”
For a moment, Nick considers spilling his secret to his father, as he has so many times before. He imagines the look of disgust on his father’s face, directed not only at him, but also at Joe. Their father would blame Joe, for being older and therefore responsible for Nick. He would accuse Joe of tempting Nick, twist Joe into the form of a serpent and Nick the unknowing Eve.
“No,” Nick lies. It is the first lie he has ever told either of his parents. It lays heavy on his conscious and tastes like ash against his tongue. “I just saw a couple of boys kissing and wondered.”
“Pray for them, Nicholas, and hope that they find it in themselves to repent and ask for the forgiveness of our Lord.”
Nick nods, but he pays the words no mind. He leaves his father’s office, shaken.
Everything he’s believed in, everything he has trusted in… Could it all be a lie?
Nick wonders if you have to be Catholic to seek out confession. He isn’t looking to change religions, he just wants answers.
It doesn’t make sense. Nothing seems to makes sense anymore.
He misses Joe. That at least makes sense. This is the longest he’s gone without Joe’s attention his whole life. The longest he’s ever gone without Joe tackling him, arms wrapped tight around his chest. The longest he’s gone without Joe tickling his sides, without Joe making silly faces at him while he tries to have a serious phone conversation, without lying in Joe’s bed, talking about everything and nothing until they fall asleep with smiles on their faces.
It makes sense that Nick would miss Joe. Joe is his brother, his best friend. Of course he misses him.
But Nick also misses the warmth of Joe’s skin against his own, the slight pull of Joe’s fingers tangled in his hair, the soft, teasing brush of his lips against Nick’s.
They’ve kissed twice, and Nick craves more. Like an addict on withdrawal.
It’s so wrong.
Or is it? It’s Joe, and that changes everything, doesn’t it?
He's the only one in the world that truly knows Nick, everything about Nick. Joe can take one look at him and know that he’s slipping, getting too lost in his head and the music, and pull Nick back out again. He always knows exactly how to make Nick smile, how to coax out a laugh. He noticed Nick was sick when no one else did. He would gladly give his own life for Nick’s in a second, happily and without regret.
Yeah.
Joe changes everything.
He doesn’t look surprised to see Nick. He opens his bedroom door wider, a silent invitation.
Joe would never lock Nick out. He would welcome Nick back with open arms, again and again, even if Nick’s only intent was to keep hurting him, shoving him away and breaking his heart. Joe would rip his heart from his chest and hand it over, all Nick had to do was ask.
“Do you still believe in God, Joe?” Nick hadn’t meant to ask that, but it slips from his lips as he steps into the room. He shuts the door behind him and, after a seconds hesitation, twists the lock.
Joe sits down on his bed, eyes dark and serious as he studies Nick.
“Yes,” he answers, finally. “But, I don’t think the God I believe in is the same one that Dad, or Mom, or Kevin believes in. I believe that God is loving and forgiving. I believe that he gave you to me. I think he wants me to keep you safe, to love you and protect you.”
People think that Joe isn’t smart, but Nick has always known how intelligent he really is. He’s reminded of that now. He makes more sense than their father had. It’s easy to believe him, with his own heart echoing agreement.
Joe continues fiercely. “No one could ever love you as much as I do, Nick. It isn’t possible.”
Nick knows that. He’s always known that no one will love him as much as Joe, like no one could ever love Joe as much as Nick does.
“I’m scared,” Nick admits.
“I am, too. I have been for years.”
“When?”
When did you fall in love with me? When did you realize?
“When you got sick,” Joe answers immediately. “I thought for sure you were going to die. I thought you were going to leave me. I was thinking of ways to follow, before I realized that was pretty dumb and you wouldn’t want that.”
Nick thinks about Joe dying, really dying, for him. He shudders. The thought alone nearly makes him sick, makes his stomach churn and twist uncomfortably.
“It’s okay to be scared, Nick.”
Nick nods, steps closer to Joe. Joe smiles up at him weakly. He looks thin and exhausted, heavy bags under his eyes. Beautiful. Nick wonders if Joe thought the same thing when Nick was lying in the hospital bed, pale and thin and sick. He wonders if Joe thinks he's beautiful now.
Joe tugs him into his lap, and wraps his arms around Nick. Nick’s arms are trapped to his sides, but he could easily break away if he wanted to; he doesn’t. He’s so tired of fighting this, so tired of trying to live without his brother. He drops his head down onto Joe’s shoulder, and rests his hands on Joe’s hips.
He knows now-knew then, too, but didn’t want to admit it-that it was never much of a choice. Joe was always going to win.
Nick thought that everything would change, but it doesn’t. Things go back to the way they were before, falling flawlessly into place. It seemed too easy, but when he told Joe that, Joe tried to smother him with a pillow.
Nick’s nervous at first. He stands in the kitchen, watching his mother teach Frankie how to make pancakes, and jumps a foot when Joe wraps him up in a hug and kisses him wetly on the cheek. He shifts guiltily, wide eyes looking to their mother in a desperate hope that she won’t be staring at them in shocked disgust.
All that happens, though, is Frankie rolls his eyes and their mother pats them both on the cheek. She kisses Nick’s forehead and smiles. “I’m glad you two worked things out. I can’t remember you ever fighting before.”
Joe twists their fingers together and beams at her, teeth flashing white and bright. “Don’t worry, Mommy, it won’t happen again.”
Their mom laughs softly, kisses Joe on the cheek, and returns to Frankie’s side when he yells, “Mom! The pancakes are on fire!”
Joe grabs an apple from the bowl on the island and hands it to Nick. “Eat, doofus. You’re so skinny. Have you checked your levels lately?”
Nick rolls his eyes and takes a bite.
Joe grins and kisses his cheek again, “I’m gonna go tan. This perfect golden glow doesn’t just happen, you know.”
He slips on his ridiculously large sunglasses and flashes Nick a grin before he heads for the back door. He calls “love you” over his shoulder before the door slams shut behind him and no one blinks an eye.
After that, Nick relaxes.
The first Sunday into their new tour, Nick wakes up before Joe, as he typically does. He untangles their limbs, smiles fondly when Joe whines in protest and flops over onto his stomach, then pads over to the bathroom to shower.
Nick lays his ring on the counter beside the sink, his necklace next to it, and slips out of his briefs and into the shower. A few minutes later, he can hear the bathroom door open and he hides his grin with sopping wet curls. Joe is still mostly asleep, rubbing at one eye sleepily, as he joins Nick. He slips on the wet floor and Nick catches him before he can fall.
“I was gonna give you a few more minutes.”
“Cold,” Joe mumbles, stepping into the water to wrap his arms around Nick. He presses his nose into Nick’s neck and Nick can feel Joe’s smile against his skin.
Joe just stands under the water, clinging to Nick. He looks expectantly at Nick, who rolls his eyes but lathers his hands with soap and makes sure to wash every inch of Joe. Nick thinks of the phrase “cleanliness is next to godliness” and snorts quietly to himself, pretty sure that the guy who made that up probably wouldn’t apply it to what they were doing.
When he’s done with Joe, Nick quickly finishes washing himself and then leads Joe out of the shower. Joe’s clearly more awake now, grinning brightly but still making no effort to care for himself. Nick rolls his eyes again, but towel dries Joe’s dripping hair.
Joe surges forward and kisses him quick, making Nick sputter and laugh as their lips meet clumsily. Joe seems pretty proud of himself when he pulls away. He wonders back into their room, unabashed in his nakedness.
Nick wraps a towel around his waist, slips his necklace back over his head, and picks up his ring and Joe’s while he’s at it. He considers them for a moment, the near-identical bands lying side by side in his palm, and bites his lip.
He feels strangely shy when he steps out of the bathroom. Joe has face-planted onto one of the beds, probably making the blankets wet with his still damp skin. Nick kneels next to the bed and pets Joe’s wet hair, smiling at the way locks curl and tangle around his fingers.
“Joseph.”
“Hmmm?” Joe turns his face towards Nick, slits open his eyes, and smiles softly.
“I love you,” Nick states firmly.
Joe smiles even brighter. “Love you, too, Nicky.” He clumsily lays his hand on Nick’s cheek, thumb poking Nick in one nostril, making Joe giggle.
Nick captures that hand with one of his own. He sets Joe’s ring onto the bed, close to Joe’s face so he can see it, and then slips his own onto Joe’s third finger. Nick can hear Joe’s breath hitch, and then Joe scrambles up onto his knees, grabbing his ring with one hand and catching Nick’s hand with the other. Joe’s ring feels perfect, fits snug when his own was always just slightly too big.
Joe kisses Nick, hard and desperate, and Nick kisses back with just as much feeling.
Nick pulls away first. He thinks about the breakfast waiting downstairs for them, thinks about the sermon their father will deliver later in their parents’ room. He drops his towel to the floor and crawls into bed with Joe, lays his head on Joe’s shoulder. Joe’s fingers bury into his hair, tugging just slightly.
It’s time for a new Sunday tradition, Nick thinks. One where he and Joe ignore everyone else, and just stay in bed all day together.
Nick understands that he isn’t like most kids his age. He’s a rock star, for one. He’s also in love and happier than he’s ever been. Nick loves Joe with everything in him; he doesn’t know any other way to live.
It’s all he has ever known.
-END-
The Request: First time (anything from kissing to sex), religion-related angst, building up to sex rather than jumping into bed together, romantic relationships arising from friendship, fighting feelings but losing, one person being more hesitant than the other.