Fic! Joe/Nick, "Every Sky is Blue, But Not for Me and You"
Title: every sky is blue (but not for me and you)
Author: likeaglass
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17 SHOCK, GASP
Summary: The JoBros watch Star Trek Reboot, and it gives Nick and Joe Ideas.
Notes: written for boyfriends_fic, for the prompt nick/anyone - asphyxiation. someone should choke him, please. Title comes from Placebo's "Come Home." Also, thanks to Jess for the beta! <333
Warnings/Spoilers: Dubcon, asphyxiation, incest.
Written to fill the wildcard space in my kink_bingo :D
It's something Nick's thought about. More than he probably should, to be honest, but he just...he can't help it. He saw the new Star Trek flick, after all, he could hardly avoid it, and that scene -- god, that scene just does something to him, something primal and urgent. Nick sees Spock with his hand around Kirk's throat and he can't help himself; he's picturing himself with strong fingers pressing down on his neck, with Joe's fingers pressing down, and suddenly he's hot and hard in his pants, frantic with want.
Of course Joe saw. Joe was always oblivious unless you wanted him to be, and the night he and Kev and Joe all went to see Star Trek was no different. Nick was enjoying the film in an abstract way, enjoying the plot and the dialogue and most of all the explosions, when that scene had come on. Spock had pinned Kirk down, his fingers tight and brutal on Kirk's throat, squeezing away every last bit of Kirk's air so he could only gasp and try to gulp in more, and Nick, god. Nick had gone painfully hard in his jeans, shifting uncomfortably on the plush movie theater seats, and Joe had noticed. Of course. Joe had leaned over the armrest he shared with Nick, had taken Nick's hand in his own and whispered in his ear, "you okay?" like Nick was a baby.
"Of course," Nick had whispered back, aware of all the people in the seats around them, probably looking at them disapprovingly. "Just a little hot, is all."
Joe's fingers had tightened on his own, and when Nick turned to look at Joe, his expression had been knowing, lips turned up in a little grin.
"Bet you are, baby brother," he said, and then turned back to the movie, fingers still twined with Nick's.
Nick stared at the side of Joe's face for a long time, only turning back when Kirk had taken his spot in the captain's chair. He wasn't completely sure then that Joe knew what that scene had done to him, but he was willing to let it slide if Joe was.
Nick spent the rest of the film in silence, fingers twined with Joe's.
______________________
Of course Joe didn't let it go. He wouldn't be Joe if he had.
They were doing an interview with J-14 or Bop or some other teenie rag, and the girl interviewing them was young, her shimmery eyeshadow distracting.
"What do you like in a girl?" the interviewer asked, like they hadn't been asked the exact same question about forty million times before.
"Well," Nick started, all ready with a diplomatic answer about how they liked all girls, redheads and blondes and brunettes, when Joe interrupted him, a smirk on his face.
"Nick likes strong girls," he said, a knowing smile on his lips. "He likes girls that, you know, play sports and can wrestle with him and stuff."
Nick's eyes whipped over to Joe's, not really believing he had said that. He was only distantly aware of the intrigued look the reporter was giving him, eyebrows practically in her hairline.
"Is that true, Nick?" she asked, all sweetness and light, and Nick stuttered out some half-assed response about liking girls who could take care of themselves, staring at Joe the entire time.
"And what do the other Jonas brothers like?" the interviewer said, but Nick wasn't listening to her or his brothers' answer. He was staring at Joe and the smug set of his mouth, the way he kept darting glances over at Nick.
It was only after the interview was over that Nick could get Joe alone. "What the fuck was that?" he demanded, his fingers tight around Joe's bicep.
"Just answering with the truth for once, Nicky," Joe said, his eyes wide and guileless.
Nick swallowed hard, not sure how to respond. "And what would you know about the truth," Nick asked, voice and eyes hard.
Joe shook his head. "Don't kid yourself, baby brother," he said, like he was sad about Nick's lack of understanding. "I know what you want." Nick made to interrupt, but Joe just laid a finger on Nick's lips, effectively shushing him without making a sound. "It's okay, baby boy," Joe said, soft and understanding.
Nick shook his head, his lips rubbing against Joe's finger. He had no idea what Joe was talking about, and didn't want to pretend that he did. He was sick of pretending.
"It's okay," Joe said. "Just..." Joe took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself for something. "Meet me in my room," he said, voice soft but demanding. "After the concert, meet me in my room."
Nick nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to but willing to trust Joe like he always did. "I'll be there," he said, voice low and more husky than he'd like.
Joe smiled, a little tentative, and reached out for Nick's face, stroking his jaw, thumbing under his cheekbone. "Be there or be square, Nicky," Joe said, and then he was gone, probably heading for makeup or wardrobe or something.
Nick took a deep breath and followed in his wake, trying to convince himself that he was ready to face a crowd of screaming girls.
________________________________________________
The concert that night was...awkward was the best way Nick could describe it. He and Joe had been on, voices mingling into a heady crescendo that Nick loved, harmonizing effortlessly as they danced around the stage. But there had been something else, something...strange, underlying everything they did, every comment Joe made between songs.
Nick had had no idea how to respond, so he didn't, just kept singing his heart out, trying to give the girls in the audience a good show.
It was only after the concert ended that Nick let himself think about Joe's words, about what he could possibly want. They climbed into the van, squished tight against each other and the rest of the band, Joe nestled close to Nick, his hand resting on Nick's thigh.
"Okay?" Joe whispered in Nick's ear, Nick's breath hitching at Joe's proximity.
"Course," Nick answered, a little confused. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to settle, too aware of Joe smirking beside him. "What?" he asked, irritably, but Joe just smiled.
"Patience, young Jonas," Joe said, and Nick rolled his eyes and faced forward, trying to ignore the way Joe's thumb was rubbing circles on his thigh.
________________________________________________
Nick didn't immediately go to Joe's room. He wasn't, like, desperate to know what Joe wanted, and besides, he needed a shower after all that jumping around on stage.
He dried off quickly, not bothering to dry his hair and just letting his curls do whatever they wanted. It wasn't like he cared about what Joe thought of him, or anything. With that firmly in mind Nick pulled on some old sweatpants, soft and thin from use, and a shirt that was pretty much see through, Nick had worn it so much. He patted down his hair, only realizing what he was doing after a second, rolling his eyes at himself and heading for the connecting door between his and Joe's hotel room.
He knocked, a little hesitantly, unsure what would be waiting for him on the other side. Still, it was just Joe, just his brother, so he opened the door without waiting for a response.
Joe was on his bed, hair damp and curling softly behind his ear, comfortable in his own sweatpants and Rolling Stones t-shirt. "Hey, little brother," Joe said, smiling crookedly at Nick. "Come on in." He was reading something, some thick novel; Nick couldn't tell what it was. Joe closed it and put it on his nightstand before Nick could read the title. Joe patted the bedspread beside his hip, inviting, and Nick moved to his side without really thinking about it, sitting down in the space by Joe's leg. Joe was quiet, just looking at Nick, and Nick shifted, a little uncomfortable.
"You wanted me?" Nick asked, voice gone a little funny as he shifted his weight.
Joe laughed, eyes sparkling as they caught Nick's. "Yeah, Nick," he said, lifting his hand to press against Nick's cheek, a fleeting caress. "Yeah, I want you."
Nick blushed, not really sure why, and Joe laughed again. "What?" Nick asked, irritably. He didn't like being laughed at, especially not by Joe.
Joe shook his head, fingers brushing the hair out of his eyes. "You don't even know, do you?" Joe asked, and then, not waiting for a response, "come here." He pressed Nick down into the bedcovers, hands insistent against Nick's shoulders, throwing a leg over him to hold him down.
Nick inhaled sharply, not sure what was happening. "What...what are you doing?" he asked, voice a little shakier than he would've liked.
"Just stay there, Nicky," Joe murmured, watching the sharp rise and fall of Nick's breath in his chest. "Just...stay right there." Joe pushed himself up on his hands, hovering over Nick, just staring at him.
It was weird, and Nick lay there, looking at his brother, the way his hair curled a little by his cheek, the way he shifted his weight from one leg to another on either side of Nick, like he was uncomfortable. But Joe's face...Joe's face was the most fascinating thing Nick had ever seen, all intense focus and dark eyes.
Joe's eyes caught Nick's, their gazes locking. "You trust me, Nick?" Joe asked, his hand coming up to cup Nick's cheek.
"Course," Nick answered, not even having to think about it.
Joe smiled, but the curve of his lips was a little different than Nick was used to. A little more naughty, like just before he did something he knew their dad wouldn't approve of. "Good," Joe said, voice deep and gravelly. Nick's eyebrows knit together, not understanding what was happening, but then Joe lifted a hand to Nick's forehead, smoothing out the furrow there. "Trust me," Joe said, voice soft and intense, and Nick couldn't do anything but nod.
Joe's fingers trailed down his cheek, stopping at his throat. Nick swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing beneath Joe's hand.
"What..." Nick said, confused and a little scared, "what are you doing?"
Joe just tightened his hand around Nick's throat, almost but not quite cutting off Nick's air. "Shhhh," Joe whispered, "just...let me..." He squeezed a little harder, and Nick suddenly couldn't breathe, couldn't get enough air.
"What are you doing?" Nick tried to say again, but he couldn't get his tongue to form the words.
Joe squeezed a little harder, and Nick gasped, trying to suck in air. "Let me do this," Joe said, intense and focused. "I know you want it." He squeezed harder, cutting off any chance Nick had of getting oxygen, Joe's thumb pressing hard against Nick's adam's apple.
Nick tried to breathe through his mouth, tried to breathe through the pressure in his throat, but he couldn't do it. He bucked his hips, but Joe rode the motion, keeping his fingers locked tightly around Nick's throat.
"Shhhh," Joe said, easing the grip of his fingers so Nick could gasp in a breath before Joe tightened his hand again. "Just...just stay still."
Nick's eyes were wide and confused, staring up at Joe's calm face. White lights were starting to dance in his vision, the edges going a little gray. His eyes fluttered closed, and Nick was mortified to feel himself firming up in his sweatpants. Joe had to be able to feel it, sitting in Nick's lap like he was, had to be able to feel how much Nick was enjoying this despite himself.
Joe let out a hitching breath, fingers flexing rhythmically on Nick's neck. "You like that?" Joe asked, and ground down against Nick's cock. Nick tried to gasp but couldn't get enough oxygen; he could feel Joe, his cock hard against Nick's. "Like it when you're not in control?" Joe asked, sounding smug and turned on in equal measures. "Like it when I have you pinned down, helpless?"
Nick tried to buck Joe off, unwilling to acknowledge what Joe was saying, but he couldn't get a grip on the bed, his fingers clumsy, and he couldn't figure out the right angle to free himself.
"It's okay, baby brother," Joe said, thumb massaging Nick's neck, "just let me do this for you." He eased up a little, allowing Nick to take in a few gasping breaths before his hands squeezed down again, not cutting off his air this time, just exerting a gentle pressure. "Just let me...let me make you feel good," Joe whispered, and rubbed his ass deliberately against Nick's cock where it was trapped in his sweats.
Nick tried to gasp but couldn't quite manage it; the most he could do was buck up into the pressure, rub his cock against Joe's ass. He was hard, god, he was so hard, his cock aching for release. He couldn't quite believe how turned on he was, just from Joe's fingers around his throat, the gentle stroking of his thumbs against the skin of his neck.
"That's it," Joe said, grinding down on Nick's cock, "come on, baby brother. Want you to feel good."
Nick tried to moan but couldn't, the sound cut off by Joe's fingers. Joe's ass was a firm, delicious pressure on his cock, the friction from his pants maddening against his dick. Everything seemed heightened, every little shift of Joe's hips magnified until even the slightest movement felt desperately, endlessly good. Nick whimpered and rubbed his cock against his brother's ass, and then Joe pressed down, just a little harder, and Nick was coming helplessly in his pants, vision whiting out as he thrashed against Joe's hold.
It took him a long time to come back down, aftershocks shaking him for several minutes afterward. Joe had let up the pressure of his hands so he was barely touching Nick's skin, his thumbs soothing and gentle in the hollow of Nick's throat.
"Okay?" Joe asked, and Nick blinked up at him, dazed. "That looked like it was a good one," Joe grinned and rocked his hips into Nick's spent, oversensitive cock.
Nick closed his eyes in embarrassment. God, he hadn't gone off in his pants in years, not since he was 13 and just discovering the joys of masturbation.
"Hey," Joe said, hands leaving their place on Nick's throat to cup his jaw instead. "It's okay, Nick. I wanted you to feel good." His thumbs stroked Nick's cheekbones soothingly, and it was abruptly too much. Nick pushed at Joe's shoulders, sending him sprawling backwards onto his hands and off of Nick. "Nick, don't --"
Nick shook his head quickly, a sharp negation, and stood up, grimacing a little at the squishy mess in his shorts. "I'm going to bed," he said, and then, after a small hesitation, "don't follow me."
Author: likeaglass
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17 SHOCK, GASP
Summary: The JoBros watch Star Trek Reboot, and it gives Nick and Joe Ideas.
Notes: written for boyfriends_fic, for the prompt nick/anyone - asphyxiation. someone should choke him, please. Title comes from Placebo's "Come Home." Also, thanks to Jess for the beta! <333
Warnings/Spoilers: Dubcon, asphyxiation, incest.
Written to fill the wildcard space in my kink_bingo :D
It's something Nick's thought about. More than he probably should, to be honest, but he just...he can't help it. He saw the new Star Trek flick, after all, he could hardly avoid it, and that scene -- god, that scene just does something to him, something primal and urgent. Nick sees Spock with his hand around Kirk's throat and he can't help himself; he's picturing himself with strong fingers pressing down on his neck, with Joe's fingers pressing down, and suddenly he's hot and hard in his pants, frantic with want.
Of course Joe saw. Joe was always oblivious unless you wanted him to be, and the night he and Kev and Joe all went to see Star Trek was no different. Nick was enjoying the film in an abstract way, enjoying the plot and the dialogue and most of all the explosions, when that scene had come on. Spock had pinned Kirk down, his fingers tight and brutal on Kirk's throat, squeezing away every last bit of Kirk's air so he could only gasp and try to gulp in more, and Nick, god. Nick had gone painfully hard in his jeans, shifting uncomfortably on the plush movie theater seats, and Joe had noticed. Of course. Joe had leaned over the armrest he shared with Nick, had taken Nick's hand in his own and whispered in his ear, "you okay?" like Nick was a baby.
"Of course," Nick had whispered back, aware of all the people in the seats around them, probably looking at them disapprovingly. "Just a little hot, is all."
Joe's fingers had tightened on his own, and when Nick turned to look at Joe, his expression had been knowing, lips turned up in a little grin.
"Bet you are, baby brother," he said, and then turned back to the movie, fingers still twined with Nick's.
Nick stared at the side of Joe's face for a long time, only turning back when Kirk had taken his spot in the captain's chair. He wasn't completely sure then that Joe knew what that scene had done to him, but he was willing to let it slide if Joe was.
Nick spent the rest of the film in silence, fingers twined with Joe's.
______________________
Of course Joe didn't let it go. He wouldn't be Joe if he had.
They were doing an interview with J-14 or Bop or some other teenie rag, and the girl interviewing them was young, her shimmery eyeshadow distracting.
"What do you like in a girl?" the interviewer asked, like they hadn't been asked the exact same question about forty million times before.
"Well," Nick started, all ready with a diplomatic answer about how they liked all girls, redheads and blondes and brunettes, when Joe interrupted him, a smirk on his face.
"Nick likes strong girls," he said, a knowing smile on his lips. "He likes girls that, you know, play sports and can wrestle with him and stuff."
Nick's eyes whipped over to Joe's, not really believing he had said that. He was only distantly aware of the intrigued look the reporter was giving him, eyebrows practically in her hairline.
"Is that true, Nick?" she asked, all sweetness and light, and Nick stuttered out some half-assed response about liking girls who could take care of themselves, staring at Joe the entire time.
"And what do the other Jonas brothers like?" the interviewer said, but Nick wasn't listening to her or his brothers' answer. He was staring at Joe and the smug set of his mouth, the way he kept darting glances over at Nick.
It was only after the interview was over that Nick could get Joe alone. "What the fuck was that?" he demanded, his fingers tight around Joe's bicep.
"Just answering with the truth for once, Nicky," Joe said, his eyes wide and guileless.
Nick swallowed hard, not sure how to respond. "And what would you know about the truth," Nick asked, voice and eyes hard.
Joe shook his head. "Don't kid yourself, baby brother," he said, like he was sad about Nick's lack of understanding. "I know what you want." Nick made to interrupt, but Joe just laid a finger on Nick's lips, effectively shushing him without making a sound. "It's okay, baby boy," Joe said, soft and understanding.
Nick shook his head, his lips rubbing against Joe's finger. He had no idea what Joe was talking about, and didn't want to pretend that he did. He was sick of pretending.
"It's okay," Joe said. "Just..." Joe took a deep breath, like he was steeling himself for something. "Meet me in my room," he said, voice soft but demanding. "After the concert, meet me in my room."
Nick nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to but willing to trust Joe like he always did. "I'll be there," he said, voice low and more husky than he'd like.
Joe smiled, a little tentative, and reached out for Nick's face, stroking his jaw, thumbing under his cheekbone. "Be there or be square, Nicky," Joe said, and then he was gone, probably heading for makeup or wardrobe or something.
Nick took a deep breath and followed in his wake, trying to convince himself that he was ready to face a crowd of screaming girls.
________________________________________________
The concert that night was...awkward was the best way Nick could describe it. He and Joe had been on, voices mingling into a heady crescendo that Nick loved, harmonizing effortlessly as they danced around the stage. But there had been something else, something...strange, underlying everything they did, every comment Joe made between songs.
Nick had had no idea how to respond, so he didn't, just kept singing his heart out, trying to give the girls in the audience a good show.
It was only after the concert ended that Nick let himself think about Joe's words, about what he could possibly want. They climbed into the van, squished tight against each other and the rest of the band, Joe nestled close to Nick, his hand resting on Nick's thigh.
"Okay?" Joe whispered in Nick's ear, Nick's breath hitching at Joe's proximity.
"Course," Nick answered, a little confused. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unable to settle, too aware of Joe smirking beside him. "What?" he asked, irritably, but Joe just smiled.
"Patience, young Jonas," Joe said, and Nick rolled his eyes and faced forward, trying to ignore the way Joe's thumb was rubbing circles on his thigh.
________________________________________________
Nick didn't immediately go to Joe's room. He wasn't, like, desperate to know what Joe wanted, and besides, he needed a shower after all that jumping around on stage.
He dried off quickly, not bothering to dry his hair and just letting his curls do whatever they wanted. It wasn't like he cared about what Joe thought of him, or anything. With that firmly in mind Nick pulled on some old sweatpants, soft and thin from use, and a shirt that was pretty much see through, Nick had worn it so much. He patted down his hair, only realizing what he was doing after a second, rolling his eyes at himself and heading for the connecting door between his and Joe's hotel room.
He knocked, a little hesitantly, unsure what would be waiting for him on the other side. Still, it was just Joe, just his brother, so he opened the door without waiting for a response.
Joe was on his bed, hair damp and curling softly behind his ear, comfortable in his own sweatpants and Rolling Stones t-shirt. "Hey, little brother," Joe said, smiling crookedly at Nick. "Come on in." He was reading something, some thick novel; Nick couldn't tell what it was. Joe closed it and put it on his nightstand before Nick could read the title. Joe patted the bedspread beside his hip, inviting, and Nick moved to his side without really thinking about it, sitting down in the space by Joe's leg. Joe was quiet, just looking at Nick, and Nick shifted, a little uncomfortable.
"You wanted me?" Nick asked, voice gone a little funny as he shifted his weight.
Joe laughed, eyes sparkling as they caught Nick's. "Yeah, Nick," he said, lifting his hand to press against Nick's cheek, a fleeting caress. "Yeah, I want you."
Nick blushed, not really sure why, and Joe laughed again. "What?" Nick asked, irritably. He didn't like being laughed at, especially not by Joe.
Joe shook his head, fingers brushing the hair out of his eyes. "You don't even know, do you?" Joe asked, and then, not waiting for a response, "come here." He pressed Nick down into the bedcovers, hands insistent against Nick's shoulders, throwing a leg over him to hold him down.
Nick inhaled sharply, not sure what was happening. "What...what are you doing?" he asked, voice a little shakier than he would've liked.
"Just stay there, Nicky," Joe murmured, watching the sharp rise and fall of Nick's breath in his chest. "Just...stay right there." Joe pushed himself up on his hands, hovering over Nick, just staring at him.
It was weird, and Nick lay there, looking at his brother, the way his hair curled a little by his cheek, the way he shifted his weight from one leg to another on either side of Nick, like he was uncomfortable. But Joe's face...Joe's face was the most fascinating thing Nick had ever seen, all intense focus and dark eyes.
Joe's eyes caught Nick's, their gazes locking. "You trust me, Nick?" Joe asked, his hand coming up to cup Nick's cheek.
"Course," Nick answered, not even having to think about it.
Joe smiled, but the curve of his lips was a little different than Nick was used to. A little more naughty, like just before he did something he knew their dad wouldn't approve of. "Good," Joe said, voice deep and gravelly. Nick's eyebrows knit together, not understanding what was happening, but then Joe lifted a hand to Nick's forehead, smoothing out the furrow there. "Trust me," Joe said, voice soft and intense, and Nick couldn't do anything but nod.
Joe's fingers trailed down his cheek, stopping at his throat. Nick swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing beneath Joe's hand.
"What..." Nick said, confused and a little scared, "what are you doing?"
Joe just tightened his hand around Nick's throat, almost but not quite cutting off Nick's air. "Shhhh," Joe whispered, "just...let me..." He squeezed a little harder, and Nick suddenly couldn't breathe, couldn't get enough air.
"What are you doing?" Nick tried to say again, but he couldn't get his tongue to form the words.
Joe squeezed a little harder, and Nick gasped, trying to suck in air. "Let me do this," Joe said, intense and focused. "I know you want it." He squeezed harder, cutting off any chance Nick had of getting oxygen, Joe's thumb pressing hard against Nick's adam's apple.
Nick tried to breathe through his mouth, tried to breathe through the pressure in his throat, but he couldn't do it. He bucked his hips, but Joe rode the motion, keeping his fingers locked tightly around Nick's throat.
"Shhhh," Joe said, easing the grip of his fingers so Nick could gasp in a breath before Joe tightened his hand again. "Just...just stay still."
Nick's eyes were wide and confused, staring up at Joe's calm face. White lights were starting to dance in his vision, the edges going a little gray. His eyes fluttered closed, and Nick was mortified to feel himself firming up in his sweatpants. Joe had to be able to feel it, sitting in Nick's lap like he was, had to be able to feel how much Nick was enjoying this despite himself.
Joe let out a hitching breath, fingers flexing rhythmically on Nick's neck. "You like that?" Joe asked, and ground down against Nick's cock. Nick tried to gasp but couldn't get enough oxygen; he could feel Joe, his cock hard against Nick's. "Like it when you're not in control?" Joe asked, sounding smug and turned on in equal measures. "Like it when I have you pinned down, helpless?"
Nick tried to buck Joe off, unwilling to acknowledge what Joe was saying, but he couldn't get a grip on the bed, his fingers clumsy, and he couldn't figure out the right angle to free himself.
"It's okay, baby brother," Joe said, thumb massaging Nick's neck, "just let me do this for you." He eased up a little, allowing Nick to take in a few gasping breaths before his hands squeezed down again, not cutting off his air this time, just exerting a gentle pressure. "Just let me...let me make you feel good," Joe whispered, and rubbed his ass deliberately against Nick's cock where it was trapped in his sweats.
Nick tried to gasp but couldn't quite manage it; the most he could do was buck up into the pressure, rub his cock against Joe's ass. He was hard, god, he was so hard, his cock aching for release. He couldn't quite believe how turned on he was, just from Joe's fingers around his throat, the gentle stroking of his thumbs against the skin of his neck.
"That's it," Joe said, grinding down on Nick's cock, "come on, baby brother. Want you to feel good."
Nick tried to moan but couldn't, the sound cut off by Joe's fingers. Joe's ass was a firm, delicious pressure on his cock, the friction from his pants maddening against his dick. Everything seemed heightened, every little shift of Joe's hips magnified until even the slightest movement felt desperately, endlessly good. Nick whimpered and rubbed his cock against his brother's ass, and then Joe pressed down, just a little harder, and Nick was coming helplessly in his pants, vision whiting out as he thrashed against Joe's hold.
It took him a long time to come back down, aftershocks shaking him for several minutes afterward. Joe had let up the pressure of his hands so he was barely touching Nick's skin, his thumbs soothing and gentle in the hollow of Nick's throat.
"Okay?" Joe asked, and Nick blinked up at him, dazed. "That looked like it was a good one," Joe grinned and rocked his hips into Nick's spent, oversensitive cock.
Nick closed his eyes in embarrassment. God, he hadn't gone off in his pants in years, not since he was 13 and just discovering the joys of masturbation.
"Hey," Joe said, hands leaving their place on Nick's throat to cup his jaw instead. "It's okay, Nick. I wanted you to feel good." His thumbs stroked Nick's cheekbones soothingly, and it was abruptly too much. Nick pushed at Joe's shoulders, sending him sprawling backwards onto his hands and off of Nick. "Nick, don't --"
Nick shook his head quickly, a sharp negation, and stood up, grimacing a little at the squishy mess in his shorts. "I'm going to bed," he said, and then, after a small hesitation, "don't follow me."