I'm sorry. I just HAD to.
Friends, people who like my J2 fic, my squee about Biggest Loser and my amusing stories about raw chicken, and most of all balefully - I need to apologize for what I'm about to do.
Title: To me, you are perfect
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jonas Brothers (yes, that’s a warning), un-betaed, real-person fiction, featuring homosexual underage incest. Oh yeah. WHAT.
Word Count: 7,500
Disclaimer: This definitely did not happen. Please don’t make me go to jail.
A/N: Written expressly for novaberry, so blame her. And onelittlesleep for the further encouragement. They are like DRUG PUSHERS, and Nick Jonas is the CANDYMAN.
To me, you are perfect
When Joe walks into the downstairs bathroom, he’s surprised to find both of his brothers in there together, posing in front of the mirror. Nick is glaring at his own reflection, eyes narrow with harsh appraisal, and Kevin is standing with his back to the mirror and his neck twisted around so he’s looking over his shoulder - apparently checking out his own ass.
“Um,” he says, looking between Nick and Kevin. “You guys are soooo hot,” Joe says in his girliest voice.
“Not now, Joseph,” Kevin says, and he sounds kind of pissed off. And Kevin never sounds pissed off, so right away, Joe knows something’s up.
He shoves between them and hoists himself up on to the counter, wiggling his hips between the two sinks and leaning his elbows against his knees. He looks from Nick to Kevin and back, waiting for someone to say something.
Nick’s shirtless and barefoot, an old pair of workout shorts low on his hips, and he’s doing this weird thing where he sucks in a huge breath, drawing his stomach in, and then exhales noisily, pushing out until his belly is round and obvious.
Kevin’s fully dressed, but he’s doing this creepy-looking squatting motion, like a really slow-motion version of the pee-pee dance, frowning at his reflection in the mirror.
Joe- Joe’s got nothing.
“So what are we doing here?”
“Do I look fat to you?” Nick asks, coral pink lips in a soft pout and one hand poking at the soft flesh above the waistband of his shorts.
Joe blinks, mouth falling slack. Nick’s muscular and pretty much naturally athletic, but the skin on his chest and belly is smooth and pale, marked with the occasional freckle. He’s so not fat that his stomach is actually concave, curving inwards from the bottom of his ribcage down to his navel.
There’s a tiny bit of soft flesh down around his belly button, but Joe thinks that’s perfectly natural. It’s one of the very few reminders that Nick’s still a kid, still growing, and for some reason, that’s kind of reassuring to Joe.
Kevin stops his weird squats long enough to glare at Nick. “Come on,” he whines. “Aren’t your jeans like a size two? A girl’s size two?”
Joe’s confused, but not so much so that he can’t take time to rag on his brothers. “Ha, no, they’re like 2T,” he says. When both Nick and Kevin are quiet, he says, “You know, toddler sized.”
“We know what you meant,” Nick says, not taking his eyes off of his own stomach. “It wasn’t funny.”
“Was too,” Joe pouts. “Not my fault you’re both acting like total tampons.”
Kevin scrunches up his face and says, “Ew, Joe!”
Joe’s not really sure how Kevin has managed to actually have a girlfriend for so long. He likes Danielle and all, but he thinks that maybe there might be something wrong with her.
Nick sighs and picks up his discarded t-shirt from the floor. It’s soft and old and has a picture of a powder blue, neatly groomed and smiling Mr. Perfect on the front. Joe bought it for him four years ago, and even though it’s tight and faded now, Nick loves wearing it.
He shrugs it on, and when his curls pop through the banded neck he says, “Michelle told Kevin that he had a bubble butt. Like a woman’s.”
Joe doesn’t react beyond just staring at Nick for a moment. Then he cracks up.
“HAHAHAHA oh my GOD that is priceless!”
“I don’t have a bubble butt!” Kevin says, turning and putting his hands on his hips in the gayest way possible.
“Actually, you kind of do, dude.”
Joe looks to Nick for back-up, but Nick doesn’t say anything. Joe can tell that he’s fighting a smile though.
“Let me see your butts,” Kevin challenges.
Nick turns around and mimics Kevin’s earlier pose, butt thrust out towards the mirror and head twisted so he can check himself out in the mirror.
They all take a moment to assess Nick’s backside. It’s quiet in the bathroom. The way Nick’s bent over pulls the fabric of his shorts tight and the outline of his briefs is visible against the top of his legs.
Finally Kevin points and says, “Nick’s got a bubble butt too!”
Nick frowns and pushes his hips out further, exaggerating the curve of his ass. “It’s kind of round, but- I don’t know, Kev. I think yours is definitely bigger.”
“I’m the oldest!” Kevin says. “All of me is bigger!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Nick says with a smirk.
“Want me to get the ruler again?” Joe says. “It’s been awhile, Kev. Maybe you’ve grown?”
“Oh har har,” Kevin says. “Joe, come on. Tell me Nick doesn’t have a bubble butt.”
Joe holds out his hands, palms open and curved towards Nick’s butt. He’s not close enough to touch him, but he peers through his hands and hums. Then shifts his arms towards Kevin and does the same.
“Yeah,” Joe says, sounding thoughtful. “Based on my initial assessment, the shape of Nick’s buttocks is indeed bubble-esque. From a volume perspective however, I’d say Nick’s got, like, a handful in each cheek. Whereas Kevin, you’re packing enough to make a fold-over.”
“Whatever!” Kevin’s face is all red. “It’s genetic! We’ve all got bubble butts!”
Nick turns back towards the mirror, scratching the back of his neck. “Not Joe,” he says quietly. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, chews on it when he looks up at Joe.
Joe gets a little distracted by the changing color of Nick’s lips. Shell pink on the outer sides, redder towards the center until they blanch to a pale peach with every bite. Not for the first time Joe thinks they really do have a good looking family.
“Joe, show us your ass,” Kevin says.
Joe sighs and pushes down off the counter. “If I had a dollar for every time someone asked-”
“Shut up!” Kevin sounds really agitated. “Just turn around!”
Joe obliges, flipping up his jacket and sticking his butt out in the same way his brothers had, but not even bothering to check himself out in the mirror.
“Behold my superior posterior,” Joe says dramatically.
Everyone’s quiet again, until Kevin mutters, “Yeah, well, Joe’s probably adopted.”
“Keep telling yourself that, bro,” Joe says, smoothing his jacket back down and fussing with his hair.
Nick shrugs in the mirror, looking at Kevin. “He does go running an awful lot.”
“I run, I dance, I do karate kicks and somersaults,” Joe ticks off his activities on his fingers. “My body is a temple.” He spreads his arms out wide so that he’s cuffing both Nick and Kevin’s necks. “Feel free to worship at my altar.”
Kevin shrugs out of his grip and stomps out of the bathroom. “I’m going for a jog,” he grumbles as he leaves.
Before Joe can even say anything, Kevin says, “Shut UP, Joseph!”
Joe’s teeth click as he snaps his mouth shut. When Nick laughs, Kevin yells from the stairs, “You too, baby fat!”
Nick frowns and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.
“What’s this?” Joe raises an eyebrow at Nick.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Nick says, and walks out of the bathroom.
And yeah, that’s pretty much never worked on Joe. “Don’t want to talk about what?” Joe prods, watching with curiosity as Nick drops to the floor and tucks his feet under the side of the sofa, legs bent, arms behind his head.
“Don’t want to talk about anything,” Nick grunts through his sit-ups. “Count for me.”
Joe does, and when Nick gets to fifty Joe says, “How many more are you going to do?”
“Hundred,” Nick huffs. “Least for the first set.”
Joe rolls his eyes. “This is boring, Nicholas.”
“Count for me,” Nick says again. “Sixty-eight,” he prompts. “Sixty-nine.”
“My favorite number,” Joe says with a leer. Nick rolls his eyes but keeps going.
“Seventy-one,” Joe says in a monotone. “Seventy-two.”
Predictably, Nick doesn’t stop until he gets to one hundred and eleven. When he does, he flops back down on the floor, cheeks flushed and neck shiny with sweat. Joe watches as Nick peels his shirt up and presses a hand to his stomach.
“When did you lose your baby fat?” Nick asks as he curls up halfway, tightening his abs and poking at his tummy.
“Uh,” Joe says. “I don’t think I had any,” he replies truthfully. “I was always kind of skinny.”
Nick hums in agreement, then lies back down and sighs.
“So Michelle says you’ve got baby fat?” Joe guesses.
Nick nods. He starts his second set of sit-ups and Joe just watches, momentarily entranced by the rhythmic contraction of Nick’s torso. Every time he starts to curl up, Nick lifts his hips off the floor, using the momentum to rock back up.
Joe frowns and drops down next to him, bracing his hands on Nick’s hips.
“Not like that,” he says. “Keep your butt on the floor. Pull your armpits towards your feet.”
Nick scowls but does it right this time, and after a few more successful crunches Joe lets go and sits back, folding his legs lotus-style.
“What’d you do to Michelle to get her all cranky anyway?”
Nick grunts and relaxes for a moment. “Nothing, she-” Nick pants for a moment, and then finally pulls himself up to a sitting position, arms wrapped around his knees. “JT was being a dork after those girls came to the door. He was, like, calling us sex symbols or something, and Michelle said there’s a difference between being a teen idol and a sex symbol.”
“Clearly, we are both,” Joe says smugly.
Nick eyes him warily. “Michelle says we aren’t. Sex symbols, that is.”
“That’s because Michelle’s never read any of the censored fan mail,” Joe snorts. “Why do you even care? I thought you hated all of that stuff?”
Nick looks up and shrugs helplessly. “I know, I do. I mean, I don’t know. I just. You know I don’t like being told I can’t do something.”
Joe nods. “So in Michelle’s opinion, we can’t be sex symbols because why, exactly?”
Nick bites his lip and looks sheepish. “Because of Kev’s woman-butt, my baby fat and your bird chest.”
Joe rears back. “My what?!?”
“Joe-”
“My bird chest?!?”
“Joe-”
“No, no, Nicholas,” Joe says, glaring daggers at Nick. “Did you say I had a bird chest?”
Nick huffs out a breath in frustration. “I did not say that, Joe. It was Michelle who-”
“What does that even mean?” Joe interrupts, face twisted into a scowl.
Nick blinks at him and says nothing. When Joe doesn’t continue, Nick says, “I think it means, um, kind of narrow and delicate?”
“I am not delicate,” Joe thunders, pushing to his feet. “I don’t care what she or anyone else thinks.”
He looks down at himself and then back at Nick and he hates that his insecurity is written all over his face.
“Do you think I’m- uh, whatever, too narrow?”
Nick’s eyes drop below Joe’s neck, and Joe struggles not to puff his chest out or flex his pecs. He can’t stop himself from fidgeting though.
Finally Nick meets his eyes, looking a little pained. “Joe,” he says.
Joe steels himself, and this time he does push out his chest a little. “Just tell me the truth. Do I have a bird chest?”
“Joe-”
“Tell me,” Joe growls.
“What do you want me to say?” Nick throws up his hands in frustration. “You’re you, Joe. You look like you. Like how you’re supposed to look.”
“Narrow and delicate?” Joe pushes.
Nick looks up at him, eyes soft. “Maybe a little?” he says, and Joe feels his stomach drop.
“Oh,” Joe says, crushed.
“Not, not in a bad way,” Nick says, sounding sort of desperate. “You’re like, sleek, or something.”
“Sleek,” Joe parrots tonelessly.
“I don’t know!” Nick huffs. “I think you look- good, fine! You’re,” he hangs his head, frustrated. “You know you’re- Joe, don’t make me pump up your ego any more than it already is.”
Joe looks away, quiet and deflated. “Whatever. This sucks,” he says.
Nick sighs and lies back down, pushing his feet under the sofa again.
***
“Can I get the grilled chicken sandwich, only no bread? And instead of fries, can I get a salad or some steamed vegetables?”
Joe looks up as the waitress nods at Nick and writes down his order.
“Aw man,” he shoves Nick with a shoulder. “I would have eaten your fries.”
Nick frowns and says, “Yeah, but I wanted a salad. Why don’t you just order an extra side of fries?”
Joe huffs out a breath in frustration. Nick’s missing the point, and his sudden manorexia is really starting to piss Joe off.
“So you’re, what, off carbs now?”
Nick rolls his eyes. “So you’re, what, stalking my diet now?”
When Nick wiggles his arms up so he can rest his elbows on the table, Joe has to shove himself out of the way. Somehow Nick is taking up much more space than he usually does, and they’re already tight, six people crammed into a booth for four.
“Aha!” says Joe. “You admit it! You are on a diet!”
Nick ignores him. “Tomorrow we should go to the beach,” Nick says, clearly trying to change the subject. He jostles Joe again when he shifts in his seat.
“Ugh, stop shoving me!” Joe says as he elbows Nick in the ribs.
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Nick says, finally raising his arm to the headrest of the booth bench. He turns to the side, resting his back against the corner where the booth meets the wall, resting one elbow along the windowsill and stretching his other arm across the seat behind Joe’s shoulders.
The move puts some room between them, and Joe can finally relax. Even if it means the entire right side of his body is now chilly, absent the heat of Nick’s body pressed against him.
Joe leans back, resting his neck against the curve of Nick’s arm, letting the warmth from Nick’s skin seep into him. He stares at the ceiling tiles, white and speckled like painted corkboard, and thinks that Nick’ll probably steal some of his fries anyways.
The sounds of the restaurant fade a little when Joe feels Nick’s thumb tapping a beat on his shoulder. He looks over and sees Nick staring out the window, humming. The sunshine on his face highlights the angles of his nose, the softness of his mouth, everything magnified. Joe can even see the downy fine white-blond hairs near the line of Nick’s jaw.
Nick’s skin looks baby soft, and Joe wants to touch it to make sure that it’s still him, still his Nick, despite the new curves of muscle and added height.
Joe lets his body curve further into Nick’s. Nick keeps staring out the window, but he wraps his arm around Joe and tugs him closer, rubbing his warm hand in slow circles on Joe’s shoulder.
“Beach tomorrow sounds good,” Joe says quietly. He turns his face into Nick’s neck when he says it, but the restaurant is so noisy and Nick doesn’t respond, so Joe’s not sure if he even heard.
But then Nick turns to him, nudges Joe’s face to the side with his own, and sings unfamiliar words softly in Joe’s ear. It must be a new song Nick’s working on, and Joe can picture the words floating through the air, about sunshine and love, and knows immediately which parts Nick will want him to sing when they record it.
He closes his eyes to listen, dragging the back of his knuckle against Nick’s leg under the table.
***
Despite all the fame and screaming girls, Joe’s really never run into any issues on his morning run until he starts running with his brothers. Maybe when it was just him, there wasn’t much remarkable about a single skinny kid jogging through suburbia at five thirty in the morning. But when they go out all three of them, there’s something about them, even dressed down in sloppy workout clothes and hair hidden under caps, that screams, hey hey we’re the Jonas Brothers, drawing photographers and fans to chase them through the early morning light.
It sucks, because as much as Joe enjoyed his solo time while jogging, he really loves running with Nick and Kevin. He loves how Nick won’t let himself fall a step behind Joe, even though Joe’s been running for years and Nick’s only just started. He loves how Kevin needs his coaching on how to breathe and pace himself. He loves making up playlists that keep their strides in tempo, loves synching all three iPods before bed so they’ll be ready to go at dawn.
It’s one of the only times that Joe feels truly needed, and he hates it when they have to stop.
Nick convinces Dad to let them convert part of the downstairs rec room into a home gym. They get two treadmills and a Bowflex, so even though they can’t all do the same thing at the same time, they can still work out together.
So Joe runs with Kevin at his side, keeping an eye on Kev’s pace and reminding him to drink water after every mile, while Nick grunts and sweats on the Bowflex, muscles straining and bulging in new places every day.
Joe slows to a walk and just watches as Nick steps back from the machine and stretches. Nick’s shoulders are broad and cut, muscles in his arms and back still lean but corded with strength. When Nick drags the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his sweaty face, Joe can see that his soft little underbelly is starting to disappear, and it throws him headfirst into a panic.
He forces himself to take a drink of water and tries to calm down but all he can think about is Nick, skinny and translucent, sick and getting sicker, all those years ago.
A wolf-whistle breaks Joe’s train of thought, and Kevin pants out, “Woohoo! Look at that! Nick J is off the chain,” from Joe’s left.
Nick grins and flexes and asks Joe if he wants tickets to the gun show, but Joe doesn’t joke back, just gets off the treadmill and heads upstairs to shower.
***
When they play Atlantis they get to spend a rare few hours by the pool, and Joe makes sure to cannonball right near where Nick’s sitting cross-legged on a lounge chair talking to some girls in low rise bikinis, even though there’s a No Diving sign three feet away.
They all get hit with the cool splash of water, and Nick laughs as the two girls huddle closer to him, shaking drops of water from their tanned skin and blond hair. Joe wipes his wet hair back from his face and watches Nick apologizing and excusing himself. He can imagine what those girls are thinking when Nick stands up tall and pulls off his t-shirt, heading towards the pool to deliver some payback.
Joe dunks half of his face under the water, taking a gulp of chlorinated water and then pulling up to spit it out as Nick slides into the pool, muscles of his arms and chest tensing up as his hips meet the water.
Some part of Joe’s brain knows he should be prepared for the swooshing tidal wave of water Nick sends in his direction, but even as he feels himself being dragged under all he can think about is how tight and stiff Nick’s little pink nipples looked against the smooth expanse of his chest.
They wrestle in the pool, and although Nick pins Joe every time he actually catches him, most of the time Joe slips out of Nick’s grasp way too easily, moving fast and unpredictable in the water.
Joe whoops as he pops up behind Nick, kicking at his brother’s back with both feet. “Too slow for Joe, hey, muscle man?”
Nick spins and lunges at him, managing to grab onto one of Joe’s ankles and dragging him through the water, flailing and splashing like an idiot. And even though Nick’s got a good grip on Joe’s foot, Joe keeps wiggling out of reach, preventing Nick from getting a good grip on him anywhere else.
Nick doesn’t give up though, dragging Joe towards the edge of the pool and boxing him in. “Slippery- little- jerk-,” Nick pants, pushing Joe so that he’s facing the fake boulders decorating the side of the pool, Nick’s knee shoved between Joe’s legs so that he can’t drop down into the water and slide away.
When Nick gets both of Joe’s arms pinned crisscrossed against his own body like he’s hugging himself with Nick’s strangely big arms wrapped around him, Joe stills his squirming for a moment, relaxing back against his brother’s chest. They’re both breathing hard, but it feels good, and Joe marvels at how different their forearms look, pushed together. Nick’s still so much paler than Joe, but his forearms are thicker, freckled and smooth, whereas Joe’s are longer, darker and spattered with dark hair. There’s a new vein running the course of Nick’s forearm, and when he pulls himself closer, crowding at Joe’s back, the vein stands out even clearer.
“I win,” Nick says, and his voice vibrates against the back of Joe’s neck, buzzing all the way through him.
Joe smirks, and says, “Not yet,” then pushes his feet up against the wall and shoves them both backward into the water.
Nick stumbles and loses his footing but he doesn’t let go of his python grip on Joe’s chest, so they both slip under the water for a moment until Nick pulls them both up.
“You’ll never take me alive!” Joe yells, and keeps struggling as Nick pulls him backwards through the water, accidentally bumping into a few kids playing in the water nearby.
When Nick reaches the other side of the pool, he slides down onto the bench-like shelf that wraps around the lagoon-y part of the pool and tugs Joe into his lap.
“Surrender,” Nick growls, freeing up one arm to hook around Joe’s neck in a mock stranglehold. His other arm squeezes Joe tight around the waist, keeping him pressed down tight on his lap.
Joe goes suddenly, exaggeratedly limp in Nick’s arms, slouching like a rag doll. “Fine,” he sighs. “I surrender.”
Nick keeps holding him tight. “For some reason,” he says, sounding breathless, “I don’t believe you.”
Joe grins when he feels Nick rest his face against Joe’s back. Even though Nick’s all mister fitness these days, Joe can still tire him out.
“Slippery as a snake,” Nick mutters, and Joe shivers when he feels Nick’s lips moving against his skin.
“M’not slippery,” Joe says. “I’m sleek, remember?”
“Mmm,” Nick says against his back, and loosens his grip on his brother, letting his arms trail down Joe’s back, then dip underwater and skim down his sides. It tickles, but not in a way that makes Joe want to squirm away. Rather, it makes him want to burrow back into Nick’s arms again and stay there all day.
It’s then when he feels his brother’s dick, thick and hard, trapped under his thigh.
Joe’s senses go all funky, all of the bright colors and sounds around them fading as if he’d slipped under the water again, until the only thing he can focus on is Nick pressing against him.
It’s probably just from all of the friction, after all Nick’s still only sixteen, and he pops boners at the weirdest times. Normally Joe would laugh at him, or, if he was feeling generous, just ignore it, but today, now, for some reason, Joe does something different.
He leans forward, reaching out to grab a kids’ raft that had floated nearby with one hand. When he moves, he feels Nick’s hands flutter away from his waist, brushing against the back of his leg as he adjusts himself in his shorts. Joe snags the raft and then reaches back, pushing Nick’s hand away and pressing down on Nick’s cock and settling himself right on top of it, so it’s nestled nice and tight between Joe’s legs.
Nick gasps but doesn’t say anything, just grabs onto Joe’s hips and digs his fingers in against bone.
Joe leans forward, folding his arms on the little raft and resting his head in the cradle of his arms. He squints into the sunlight and watches all the people laughing and playing with their kids in the pool around them. He wonders how normal this looks, two teenage boys, brothers, one sitting on the other’s lap in a crowded pool in the Bahamas. Not that anything about them is normal, really, but it’s a game he likes to play in his head sometimes, when they’re out in public. I wonder if I look like a normal guy buying a pretzel? he thinks, when he stops at a street vendor in New York City. I wonder if I look like a normal guy putting gas in my car? he thinks at a BP station in Pasadena.
They must look normal enough, because nobody’s paying them much attention.
Joe squeezes his legs, tightening and releasing, and feels Nick’s breath huff out against his skin. He hears Nick whisper his name, urgently, panicking like he wants to push Joe away, but Joe stays put, feeling Nick’s dick flex against his balls.
“Joe-”
“Just relax, you freak,” Joe says over his shoulder, and instantly regrets his choice of words. Nick’s not the freak in this situation.
“Can you get off me?” Nick’s voice is quiet, pleading.
“No,” Joe says. “Just relax.”
Nick quiets down and sits back against the edge of the pool, but Joe feels him sliding his hips back a bit, trying to dislodge his hard-on from the pressure of Joe’s legs. Joe has to bite his tongue to keep from groaning at the feel of Nick’s cock dragging against his balls, rubbing at the sensitive skin behind them. It feels shockingly good, and Joe clenches to try to hold Nick in place. Arousal zings through him, setting off bolts of lightning in his blood while his face remains impassive, bored, nothing to see here.
Nick’s hands float out in the water, swishing around innocently, like a normal kid in a pool, Joe thinks, only Nick lets his hand brush lightly against Joe’s shorts on one pass, a reconnaissance mission. He does it again, only this time Joe pushes up a bit so that Nick finds what he’s looking for, Joe’s half-hard dick hidden in the floating fabric of his swim trunks.
Nick jerks when his fingers brush over Joe’s dick, and then he lets his hands float away again, making a slow figure-eight motion in the water. When he comes back around he fumbles against Joe’s crotch, rubbing the heel of his hand against the sensitive head of Joe’s dick before curling his fingers around the shaft. Joe bites his lip and pushes back against Nick’s lap, tightening his thighs around the insistent press of Nick’s cock, hoping the tiny raft offers enough cover for what they’re doing.
Nick chokes back a weird noise and squeezes Joe’s dick with one hand while he push-push-pushes against Joe’s balls and it feels so good, even though the pace is maddeningly slow. Nick leans forward, resting his pool-damp face against Joe’s shoulder blades, and it must look like they’re just tired, tuckered out from their horsing around before.
Joe looks around, sees kids playing Marco Polo, moms smearing on bright white sun block, college kids drinking fruity frozen drinks, and has to grasp his brother’s hand under water and try not to come while Nick rubs off against him.
Nick doesn’t say anything, other than the occasional breathy unh, and so neither does Joe. He just tries to focus on the warmth of the tropical sun drying the water from his back and arms, and how much he loves his brother.
Nick wraps his arms around Joe’s waist and they reach all the way around, interwoven and clutching at Joe’s sides. Nick grabs him tight, tighter, reaches up with one hand to grab Joe’s shoulder and then pulls him down hard and shudders, kicking his feet against the bottom of the pool and flexing his toes. He’s coming; Nick is having an orgasm right here in the pool, in front of everyone and anyone and Joe just wants to protect him, shield him from world at large.
He twists to the side, turning his whole body around so he can at least partially face Nick, and almost wishes he hadn’t. Nick looks flushed and horny, debauched and desperate, and not at all normal. He’s staring at Joe’s mouth and he’s breathing fast and squeezing Joe’s hand so tight Joe can feel their knuckles grind together.
Joe stares at his brother, watches him lick his lips, and feels like he might come anyway, even though nobody’s touching his dick anymore. Joe smiles shakily, lifting one dripping hand out of the pool water to ruffle through Nick’s drying curls.
“I want to kiss you,” Nick says quietly, panting a bit, eyes fixed on Joe’s mouth.
Joe’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Uh,” he stammers. “Nicky-”
“I want to kiss you,” Nick says again, this time looking Joe in the eyes. “So bad. I know it’s weird. It’s- I’m weird. And I know I can’t, not here, not now. But I want to. And I just. Thought you should know that.”
Joe’s heart punches at his chest from the inside, feels like it’s going to explode. “Yeah,” Joe says dumbly. “That’s- we can do that. Later, okay? For now, let’s just,” he blows out a breath and Nick nods at him.
When he moves to slide off of Nick’s lap, Nick clutches at Joe’s leg frantically, holding it across his lap even as Joe’s butt settles on the seat next to him. He says, “Joseph, please. Just- stay. Just a little more, okay?”
Joe smiles, slips both feet into Nick’s lap and whines “Rub my feeeeeeet Nicholas!”
It seems to work, Nick snorts and rolls his eyes, shoves some water at him. They grin at each other for a long moment, until something catches Nick’s eye and he kicks Joe off into the water with one quick move.
“Hi babies,” Mom says, squatting down at the side of the pool. “Hope you’re hungry for lunch! We’ve got that thing with the charity auction and Melissa told me they’ve got trays and trays of stone crabs!”
“Hi Mom,” Nick says, drawing his feet up to the bench and hugging his knees to his chest. His voice cracks when he speaks. “Sounds great, but I’m, uh, not really that-”
Joe rolls his eyes, reaches out and plucks hard at Nick’s nipple. “Ow!” Nick yells and covers his chest protectively. “What the hell!”
Mom looks disapproving. “Joseph, behave. Nicholas, language.”
“Sorry Mom,” Joe says, opening his eyes wide, like even he’s surprised at how rascally he’s being. “Stone crabs sound delicious,” Joe says. “Nick’s really hungry, and so am I. When do we eat?”
While they’re toweling off, Nick rubs at his chest, still flushed where Joe pinched him. “What was that for?” Nick scowls.
“Enough with this stupid diet,” Joe says with a frown. “You gotta eat, Nick. I’m not kidding.”
Nick rolls his eyes and pulls on his t-shirt. He pinches at his stomach and says, “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly wasting aw-”
Nick’s voice trails off when he sees Joe’s expression. His eyes are fierce, jaw clenched, and Nick knows better than to mess with him.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “I could eat.”
***
The show that night is amazing, possibly their best ever. Nick is just on, and every time Joe pushes into his space he swears everyone will be able to see the sparks flying between them.
When the show is over, everyone is celebrating, hugging and shouting about going dancing, swimming or out for a bite to eat. Joe’s got fire in his veins, and every time he looks up he finds Nick’s hot gaze on him, relentless and hungry.
Greg grabs Joe by the neck and says, “Wanna go make some trouble?”
Joe grins widely and is about to respond when he feels Nick’s fingers tugging at his.
“Hey,” Nick says, voice soft but eyes blazing when he looks at Joe. “I’m, uh, not feeling great. Think I’m gonna go right up to bed, maybe get some pay-per-view. You want to-?”
Dad cuts in, picking up on the bat signal from across the room. “Not feeling well, Nicholas? Have you been checking-?”
Nick rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I just. I think I ate too much before the show. Just tired, I think.”
He’s still holding on to two of Joe’s fingers, rubbing them subtly. Nick’s lips are soft and wet, shiny with spit from where he’s been licking them. “So, yeah,” he says, voice lowered in Joe’s direction. “I’m gonna head up. You, uh, you wanna come?”
Joe has to look away. He can’t think when Nick’s so close, and he has to be thinking now.
“Nah,” Joe says breezily. “You go on up. I’m gonna hang out for a bit.”
Nick tugs on his fingers once and says, “Yeah? Well, actually, maybe I will too.” When Joe looks up, surprised, he finds Nick’s eyes hopeful.
“Nicky, c’mon. Get some rest.” Joe tugs him into a loose hug, ruffles his hair and feels Nick stiffen up like he always does when he feels like he’s being patronized.
When Joe says, “Promise I won’t wake you when I come in,” Nick’s eyes darken with hurt. He doesn’t say anything else to Joe, just turns and leaves with security, muttering good-nights to the general crowd.
Joe feels like a first-class jerk, but he knows it’s for the best. They just need a little space. He needs to give Nick some time to think this through, be sure of what he wants. Because Joe may not be a sex genius, but he knows one thing: once he gets his mouth on Nick, he’s not going to be able to stop after one kiss, or one night.
***
When Joe sneaks into their room at two-thirty in the morning, Nick is, as he’d hoped, dead asleep. Joe’s sure to stay quiet as he slides out of his clothes and washes his face. He creeps around the room in stealth-mode, presumably not to wake Nick, but then when he finds a Men’s Health magazine on Nick’s chest, open to a spread on how to intensify your abs workout, he snorts loudly, rolls up the magazine, and thwaps Nick with it on the head.
“W-whuza?” Nick says, raising his arm to shield his face.
“You’re an idiot,” Joe says.
“Joe?” Nick snuffles, settling back into his pillow, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. Then he pushes himself up on his arms and rolls over towards the nightstand. “Time is it?”
“Time for you to stop being such a moron,” Joe says, sitting on the side of Nick’s bed, shoving him over.
Nick glares at him. “You didn’t have to go out,” he says, hurt still in his eyes. “You don’t have to- you don’t have to do anything, okay?”
Joe laughs, thinks he’ll wait for Nick to get it. He slides down, down until he’s under the covers and can wrap an arm and a leg around Nick. He traces a finger down Nick’s chest and then spreads his palm flat against Nick’s barely rounded little belly.
Nick squirms under his palm, pushing at Joe’s hand and sucking in his stomach at the same time. Joe swats at his hands, then pushes up Nick’s t-shirt and says, “Relax, Nicky.”
He rubs his hand against Nick’s jumpy abdomen, and through the lights reflected from the resort through the gauzy curtains Joe can see Nick’s boxers start to bulge and tent. Slides down further into the covers and bends his head so he can mouth over the pale skin there.
“Joe,” Nick breathes. “Joe, what are you, oh. Joe, are you-?”
“You’re perfect,” Joe says, nosing up the hem of Nick’s t-shirt even further so he can kiss at the spot where Nick’s ribs end. “Completely perfect.”
“Oh,” Nick sighs, and runs shaky fingers through Joe’s hair. “M’not.”
Joe growls and bites at Nick’s tummy, letting his teeth sink into baby soft skin.
“Ah!” Nick cries out, curling up to cradle Joe’s head. Joe nips him again, right in the softest most vulnerable area low on Nick’s belly, and when he convulses again, Joe feels Nick’s dick, stiff and hot, nudging at his hand.
“You are,” Joe says, fierce and unrelenting.
He shoves at Nick’s shirt, bites again, higher up on his chest this time. Nick’s body is bowed under him, jolting with every bite, hands grasping at Joe like he’s going to disappear.
“Do you understand me?” Joe says just before he lays sucking kisses on Nick’s nipples, taking extra care to use his tongue to soothe the one he’d pinched earlier.
Nick writhes under him, neck arched, throat working at the same pace as his hips. Joe watches him, waits for his nod, but all Nick says is Joe, Joe, Joe.
Joe pushes himself up on his hands and knees, crawls over his brother, wipes Nick’s curls away from his face. “You’re perfect,” he says again, and he’ll keep saying it until Nick starts to believe him.
Nick tugs him down, chasing Joe’s mouth and so Joe kisses him. And kisses him, and kisses him and kisses him until he feels lightheaded. Nick’s moving desperate beneath him, but his kisses are prolonged, thorough, wet and messy.
Joe feels Nick’s hands, tentative and trembling, slide down his bare back. When Nick tucks his fingers into the back of Joe’s boxers and tugs, Joe goes down hard, crashing on top of his brother and grinding up against him.
“Oh! Joe, love you so much,” Nick pants. “So much, I can’t even-”
“C’mon, c’mon,” Joe says, interrupting and tugging at Nick’s shirt. “Off. Take it off.”
Nick sits up to take his t-shirt off, forcing Joe into an awkward straddle, knees on either side of Nick’s hips. Joe helps him tug the shirt over his head, and Nick lets him, opting instead to grab Joe’s ass with both hands and pull him more fully into his lap.
“Oh!” is all Joe can say when Nick rocks into him, bowing his head to suck on Joe’s collarbone and lick at his neck. “Kiss me, c’mon. Kiss me,” he says.
Nick does, whimpering into Joe’s mouth when their tongues push together. When Joe feels Nick’s shoulder flex and shake, he pulls away and looks down between their bodies; watches Nick jerk himself off inside his boxers.
“Lemme see,” he pants and tugs at the elastic band of Nick’s shorts.
Nick doesn’t let go of his own cock, just uses his free hand to struggle out of his underwear, pushing them down to his thighs. He has to wiggle and raise his hips to do it, lifting Joe in the process. It’s insane how hot the whole thing makes Joe, and he shoves at his own underwear to get his cock out too.
Joe’s own cock is stiff and obvious, stretching out the front of his underwear, and when he pulls the fabric down it springs free and slaps against his own belly leaving shiny trails of precome on Joe’s tanned skin.
Nick groans when he sees it. “Oh, oh, Joe. You’re so- unh. So w-wet. All wet. I wanna-”
Joe doesn’t even have to tell him to do it, that it’s okay. Nick just wraps his hand around both of their dicks, rubbing them together, getting them both all slick and hot. He can’t hold them well enough to keep jacking off, so Joe lends a hand of his own, and together they make a hot tunnel to thrust up into.
“Love you,” Joe pants, tries to catch Nick’s eye, but Nick is steadfastly staring at their cocks sliding together in their joint grip. Without thinking, Joe reaches up and fists Nick’s curls at the back of his head and tugs, hard. Nick winces, lets out a hurt little noise at the same time his cock flexes and blurts out a hot dribble of precome.
Joe squeezes them hard, and speeds up their hands. None of this is going how he thought it would have. He always imagined being gentle with Nick, taking it slow and easy. Clearly he’d underestimated how unbelievably hot his brother would look, all turned on and frantic with it.
Joe’s known for awhile that he’s wanted to kiss Nick. He’s only just figured out that he might want more than that. Every time he even thinks about what ‘more’ even means his dick shoots a little, drooling at the thought.
“So perfect,” Joe grunts, and yeah, he’s not very creative with his sex talk but it’s not like he’s planned that either. “Got me all, oh, yeah like that. Felt like I was gonna pop the whole night.”
He sets a fierce pace, stripping fast and furious, watching the muscles on Nick’s arms bunch and flex with every stroke.
“Unh!” he gasps. “Joe, Joe, I’m gonna. Ah! Gonna c-come. Gonna- oh!”
He can feel Nick’s dick swell and spasm next to his, just before Nick blows it all over his own stomach.
Joe wants to hold him through it, wants to help Nick come down, make it a beautiful experience and all that, but Joe can’t wait.
He shoves Nick’s chest so that he falls back, and Joe pushes up on top of him. He slides his own hard dick around in the mess on Nick’s belly, scooping come out of Nick’s belly button with the head of his dick and rubbing it in until the skin beneath is pink and slippery.
Nick’s watching him, biting his lip, trying to help although it’s clear he’s done for, so Joe just takes his arms and pins them up next to his head. Holds him down and says, “This is good, Nicky, just- just let me.”
Nick’s eyes are hazy but he doesn’t look away. Just nods at Joe and mouths anything.
Joe goes wild, fucking up against Nick’s soft, slippery belly, holding him down and thinking about what it would be like to fuck him for real. He buries his face in Nick’s sweaty neck and says as much, barely coherent words spilling from his mouth.
“Fill you up, f-fuck you so good,” he mutters and he feels Nick’s cock twitch against his hip, starting to swell all over again.
“Oh,” Nick moans, eyes wide and mouth shiny wet with spit.
“You like that? You want it?” Joe asks, more for the zing of arousal that tightens in his balls when he says it than being actually serious.
When Nick whispers “I’d let you,” all soft and hoarse, Joe loses it. He shoves and shoves his dick against all that soft, sweet skin until he covers Nick with his come.
***
“Nicky?” Joe says quietly, nudging his brother in the seat next to him on the plane. Nick’s curled up under a blanket, not sleeping, but looking as if he’s about to be.
“Mmm?”
Joe lifts the armrest between them and presses up close behind his brother, curling an arm under the blanket so he can rest his hand on Nick’s belly.
“You good?”
It’s the same question Joe always asks him, which can apply to any number of things that might not be good for Nick at any given moment.
Nick doesn’t turn to look at him, just keeps his eyes closed and smiles, nodding.
“Mm hmm.”
“Good,” Joe exhales. “Do you need anything? Low-carb snack? Diet soda?”
Nick stays curled up the same, keeps smiling. He runs his hand down Joe’s arm and snuggles into him.
“Mm mm.”
Joe laughs. “You’re a man of many words, Nicholas. It’s no wonder you’re such a great songwriter.”
Nick laughs softly and pinches his arm under the blanket.
Joe just watches him for awhile. Wonders if Nick will ever realize how amazing he is. When he’s almost sure Nick’s asleep, he asks him another question, whispering against Nick’s ear.
“Did you write that song for me?”
A few beats pass, and then Nick says, “Yes.”
Joe huffs out a laugh, warm breath blowing against Nick’s neck. “You don’t even know which song I’m talking about,” he says, smiling.
“Doesn’t matter,” Nick says. He covers Joe’s hand on his stomach and tangles their fingers together.
Joe grins, mashing his face up against the back of Nick’s neck. “I really liked it,” he says, and they fall asleep twisted together.
THE END
Title: To me, you are perfect
Pairing: Joe/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Jonas Brothers (yes, that’s a warning), un-betaed, real-person fiction, featuring homosexual underage incest. Oh yeah. WHAT.
Word Count: 7,500
Disclaimer: This definitely did not happen. Please don’t make me go to jail.
A/N: Written expressly for novaberry, so blame her. And onelittlesleep for the further encouragement. They are like DRUG PUSHERS, and Nick Jonas is the CANDYMAN.
To me, you are perfect
When Joe walks into the downstairs bathroom, he’s surprised to find both of his brothers in there together, posing in front of the mirror. Nick is glaring at his own reflection, eyes narrow with harsh appraisal, and Kevin is standing with his back to the mirror and his neck twisted around so he’s looking over his shoulder - apparently checking out his own ass.
“Um,” he says, looking between Nick and Kevin. “You guys are soooo hot,” Joe says in his girliest voice.
“Not now, Joseph,” Kevin says, and he sounds kind of pissed off. And Kevin never sounds pissed off, so right away, Joe knows something’s up.
He shoves between them and hoists himself up on to the counter, wiggling his hips between the two sinks and leaning his elbows against his knees. He looks from Nick to Kevin and back, waiting for someone to say something.
Nick’s shirtless and barefoot, an old pair of workout shorts low on his hips, and he’s doing this weird thing where he sucks in a huge breath, drawing his stomach in, and then exhales noisily, pushing out until his belly is round and obvious.
Kevin’s fully dressed, but he’s doing this creepy-looking squatting motion, like a really slow-motion version of the pee-pee dance, frowning at his reflection in the mirror.
Joe- Joe’s got nothing.
“So what are we doing here?”
“Do I look fat to you?” Nick asks, coral pink lips in a soft pout and one hand poking at the soft flesh above the waistband of his shorts.
Joe blinks, mouth falling slack. Nick’s muscular and pretty much naturally athletic, but the skin on his chest and belly is smooth and pale, marked with the occasional freckle. He’s so not fat that his stomach is actually concave, curving inwards from the bottom of his ribcage down to his navel.
There’s a tiny bit of soft flesh down around his belly button, but Joe thinks that’s perfectly natural. It’s one of the very few reminders that Nick’s still a kid, still growing, and for some reason, that’s kind of reassuring to Joe.
Kevin stops his weird squats long enough to glare at Nick. “Come on,” he whines. “Aren’t your jeans like a size two? A girl’s size two?”
Joe’s confused, but not so much so that he can’t take time to rag on his brothers. “Ha, no, they’re like 2T,” he says. When both Nick and Kevin are quiet, he says, “You know, toddler sized.”
“We know what you meant,” Nick says, not taking his eyes off of his own stomach. “It wasn’t funny.”
“Was too,” Joe pouts. “Not my fault you’re both acting like total tampons.”
Kevin scrunches up his face and says, “Ew, Joe!”
Joe’s not really sure how Kevin has managed to actually have a girlfriend for so long. He likes Danielle and all, but he thinks that maybe there might be something wrong with her.
Nick sighs and picks up his discarded t-shirt from the floor. It’s soft and old and has a picture of a powder blue, neatly groomed and smiling Mr. Perfect on the front. Joe bought it for him four years ago, and even though it’s tight and faded now, Nick loves wearing it.
He shrugs it on, and when his curls pop through the banded neck he says, “Michelle told Kevin that he had a bubble butt. Like a woman’s.”
Joe doesn’t react beyond just staring at Nick for a moment. Then he cracks up.
“HAHAHAHA oh my GOD that is priceless!”
“I don’t have a bubble butt!” Kevin says, turning and putting his hands on his hips in the gayest way possible.
“Actually, you kind of do, dude.”
Joe looks to Nick for back-up, but Nick doesn’t say anything. Joe can tell that he’s fighting a smile though.
“Let me see your butts,” Kevin challenges.
Nick turns around and mimics Kevin’s earlier pose, butt thrust out towards the mirror and head twisted so he can check himself out in the mirror.
They all take a moment to assess Nick’s backside. It’s quiet in the bathroom. The way Nick’s bent over pulls the fabric of his shorts tight and the outline of his briefs is visible against the top of his legs.
Finally Kevin points and says, “Nick’s got a bubble butt too!”
Nick frowns and pushes his hips out further, exaggerating the curve of his ass. “It’s kind of round, but- I don’t know, Kev. I think yours is definitely bigger.”
“I’m the oldest!” Kevin says. “All of me is bigger!”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Nick says with a smirk.
“Want me to get the ruler again?” Joe says. “It’s been awhile, Kev. Maybe you’ve grown?”
“Oh har har,” Kevin says. “Joe, come on. Tell me Nick doesn’t have a bubble butt.”
Joe holds out his hands, palms open and curved towards Nick’s butt. He’s not close enough to touch him, but he peers through his hands and hums. Then shifts his arms towards Kevin and does the same.
“Yeah,” Joe says, sounding thoughtful. “Based on my initial assessment, the shape of Nick’s buttocks is indeed bubble-esque. From a volume perspective however, I’d say Nick’s got, like, a handful in each cheek. Whereas Kevin, you’re packing enough to make a fold-over.”
“Whatever!” Kevin’s face is all red. “It’s genetic! We’ve all got bubble butts!”
Nick turns back towards the mirror, scratching the back of his neck. “Not Joe,” he says quietly. He sucks his lower lip into his mouth, chews on it when he looks up at Joe.
Joe gets a little distracted by the changing color of Nick’s lips. Shell pink on the outer sides, redder towards the center until they blanch to a pale peach with every bite. Not for the first time Joe thinks they really do have a good looking family.
“Joe, show us your ass,” Kevin says.
Joe sighs and pushes down off the counter. “If I had a dollar for every time someone asked-”
“Shut up!” Kevin sounds really agitated. “Just turn around!”
Joe obliges, flipping up his jacket and sticking his butt out in the same way his brothers had, but not even bothering to check himself out in the mirror.
“Behold my superior posterior,” Joe says dramatically.
Everyone’s quiet again, until Kevin mutters, “Yeah, well, Joe’s probably adopted.”
“Keep telling yourself that, bro,” Joe says, smoothing his jacket back down and fussing with his hair.
Nick shrugs in the mirror, looking at Kevin. “He does go running an awful lot.”
“I run, I dance, I do karate kicks and somersaults,” Joe ticks off his activities on his fingers. “My body is a temple.” He spreads his arms out wide so that he’s cuffing both Nick and Kevin’s necks. “Feel free to worship at my altar.”
Kevin shrugs out of his grip and stomps out of the bathroom. “I’m going for a jog,” he grumbles as he leaves.
Before Joe can even say anything, Kevin says, “Shut UP, Joseph!”
Joe’s teeth click as he snaps his mouth shut. When Nick laughs, Kevin yells from the stairs, “You too, baby fat!”
Nick frowns and crosses his arms over his chest defensively.
“What’s this?” Joe raises an eyebrow at Nick.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Nick says, and walks out of the bathroom.
And yeah, that’s pretty much never worked on Joe. “Don’t want to talk about what?” Joe prods, watching with curiosity as Nick drops to the floor and tucks his feet under the side of the sofa, legs bent, arms behind his head.
“Don’t want to talk about anything,” Nick grunts through his sit-ups. “Count for me.”
Joe does, and when Nick gets to fifty Joe says, “How many more are you going to do?”
“Hundred,” Nick huffs. “Least for the first set.”
Joe rolls his eyes. “This is boring, Nicholas.”
“Count for me,” Nick says again. “Sixty-eight,” he prompts. “Sixty-nine.”
“My favorite number,” Joe says with a leer. Nick rolls his eyes but keeps going.
“Seventy-one,” Joe says in a monotone. “Seventy-two.”
Predictably, Nick doesn’t stop until he gets to one hundred and eleven. When he does, he flops back down on the floor, cheeks flushed and neck shiny with sweat. Joe watches as Nick peels his shirt up and presses a hand to his stomach.
“When did you lose your baby fat?” Nick asks as he curls up halfway, tightening his abs and poking at his tummy.
“Uh,” Joe says. “I don’t think I had any,” he replies truthfully. “I was always kind of skinny.”
Nick hums in agreement, then lies back down and sighs.
“So Michelle says you’ve got baby fat?” Joe guesses.
Nick nods. He starts his second set of sit-ups and Joe just watches, momentarily entranced by the rhythmic contraction of Nick’s torso. Every time he starts to curl up, Nick lifts his hips off the floor, using the momentum to rock back up.
Joe frowns and drops down next to him, bracing his hands on Nick’s hips.
“Not like that,” he says. “Keep your butt on the floor. Pull your armpits towards your feet.”
Nick scowls but does it right this time, and after a few more successful crunches Joe lets go and sits back, folding his legs lotus-style.
“What’d you do to Michelle to get her all cranky anyway?”
Nick grunts and relaxes for a moment. “Nothing, she-” Nick pants for a moment, and then finally pulls himself up to a sitting position, arms wrapped around his knees. “JT was being a dork after those girls came to the door. He was, like, calling us sex symbols or something, and Michelle said there’s a difference between being a teen idol and a sex symbol.”
“Clearly, we are both,” Joe says smugly.
Nick eyes him warily. “Michelle says we aren’t. Sex symbols, that is.”
“That’s because Michelle’s never read any of the censored fan mail,” Joe snorts. “Why do you even care? I thought you hated all of that stuff?”
Nick looks up and shrugs helplessly. “I know, I do. I mean, I don’t know. I just. You know I don’t like being told I can’t do something.”
Joe nods. “So in Michelle’s opinion, we can’t be sex symbols because why, exactly?”
Nick bites his lip and looks sheepish. “Because of Kev’s woman-butt, my baby fat and your bird chest.”
Joe rears back. “My what?!?”
“Joe-”
“My bird chest?!?”
“Joe-”
“No, no, Nicholas,” Joe says, glaring daggers at Nick. “Did you say I had a bird chest?”
Nick huffs out a breath in frustration. “I did not say that, Joe. It was Michelle who-”
“What does that even mean?” Joe interrupts, face twisted into a scowl.
Nick blinks at him and says nothing. When Joe doesn’t continue, Nick says, “I think it means, um, kind of narrow and delicate?”
“I am not delicate,” Joe thunders, pushing to his feet. “I don’t care what she or anyone else thinks.”
He looks down at himself and then back at Nick and he hates that his insecurity is written all over his face.
“Do you think I’m- uh, whatever, too narrow?”
Nick’s eyes drop below Joe’s neck, and Joe struggles not to puff his chest out or flex his pecs. He can’t stop himself from fidgeting though.
Finally Nick meets his eyes, looking a little pained. “Joe,” he says.
Joe steels himself, and this time he does push out his chest a little. “Just tell me the truth. Do I have a bird chest?”
“Joe-”
“Tell me,” Joe growls.
“What do you want me to say?” Nick throws up his hands in frustration. “You’re you, Joe. You look like you. Like how you’re supposed to look.”
“Narrow and delicate?” Joe pushes.
Nick looks up at him, eyes soft. “Maybe a little?” he says, and Joe feels his stomach drop.
“Oh,” Joe says, crushed.
“Not, not in a bad way,” Nick says, sounding sort of desperate. “You’re like, sleek, or something.”
“Sleek,” Joe parrots tonelessly.
“I don’t know!” Nick huffs. “I think you look- good, fine! You’re,” he hangs his head, frustrated. “You know you’re- Joe, don’t make me pump up your ego any more than it already is.”
Joe looks away, quiet and deflated. “Whatever. This sucks,” he says.
Nick sighs and lies back down, pushing his feet under the sofa again.
***
“Can I get the grilled chicken sandwich, only no bread? And instead of fries, can I get a salad or some steamed vegetables?”
Joe looks up as the waitress nods at Nick and writes down his order.
“Aw man,” he shoves Nick with a shoulder. “I would have eaten your fries.”
Nick frowns and says, “Yeah, but I wanted a salad. Why don’t you just order an extra side of fries?”
Joe huffs out a breath in frustration. Nick’s missing the point, and his sudden manorexia is really starting to piss Joe off.
“So you’re, what, off carbs now?”
Nick rolls his eyes. “So you’re, what, stalking my diet now?”
When Nick wiggles his arms up so he can rest his elbows on the table, Joe has to shove himself out of the way. Somehow Nick is taking up much more space than he usually does, and they’re already tight, six people crammed into a booth for four.
“Aha!” says Joe. “You admit it! You are on a diet!”
Nick ignores him. “Tomorrow we should go to the beach,” Nick says, clearly trying to change the subject. He jostles Joe again when he shifts in his seat.
“Ugh, stop shoving me!” Joe says as he elbows Nick in the ribs.
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Nick says, finally raising his arm to the headrest of the booth bench. He turns to the side, resting his back against the corner where the booth meets the wall, resting one elbow along the windowsill and stretching his other arm across the seat behind Joe’s shoulders.
The move puts some room between them, and Joe can finally relax. Even if it means the entire right side of his body is now chilly, absent the heat of Nick’s body pressed against him.
Joe leans back, resting his neck against the curve of Nick’s arm, letting the warmth from Nick’s skin seep into him. He stares at the ceiling tiles, white and speckled like painted corkboard, and thinks that Nick’ll probably steal some of his fries anyways.
The sounds of the restaurant fade a little when Joe feels Nick’s thumb tapping a beat on his shoulder. He looks over and sees Nick staring out the window, humming. The sunshine on his face highlights the angles of his nose, the softness of his mouth, everything magnified. Joe can even see the downy fine white-blond hairs near the line of Nick’s jaw.
Nick’s skin looks baby soft, and Joe wants to touch it to make sure that it’s still him, still his Nick, despite the new curves of muscle and added height.
Joe lets his body curve further into Nick’s. Nick keeps staring out the window, but he wraps his arm around Joe and tugs him closer, rubbing his warm hand in slow circles on Joe’s shoulder.
“Beach tomorrow sounds good,” Joe says quietly. He turns his face into Nick’s neck when he says it, but the restaurant is so noisy and Nick doesn’t respond, so Joe’s not sure if he even heard.
But then Nick turns to him, nudges Joe’s face to the side with his own, and sings unfamiliar words softly in Joe’s ear. It must be a new song Nick’s working on, and Joe can picture the words floating through the air, about sunshine and love, and knows immediately which parts Nick will want him to sing when they record it.
He closes his eyes to listen, dragging the back of his knuckle against Nick’s leg under the table.
***
Despite all the fame and screaming girls, Joe’s really never run into any issues on his morning run until he starts running with his brothers. Maybe when it was just him, there wasn’t much remarkable about a single skinny kid jogging through suburbia at five thirty in the morning. But when they go out all three of them, there’s something about them, even dressed down in sloppy workout clothes and hair hidden under caps, that screams, hey hey we’re the Jonas Brothers, drawing photographers and fans to chase them through the early morning light.
It sucks, because as much as Joe enjoyed his solo time while jogging, he really loves running with Nick and Kevin. He loves how Nick won’t let himself fall a step behind Joe, even though Joe’s been running for years and Nick’s only just started. He loves how Kevin needs his coaching on how to breathe and pace himself. He loves making up playlists that keep their strides in tempo, loves synching all three iPods before bed so they’ll be ready to go at dawn.
It’s one of the only times that Joe feels truly needed, and he hates it when they have to stop.
Nick convinces Dad to let them convert part of the downstairs rec room into a home gym. They get two treadmills and a Bowflex, so even though they can’t all do the same thing at the same time, they can still work out together.
So Joe runs with Kevin at his side, keeping an eye on Kev’s pace and reminding him to drink water after every mile, while Nick grunts and sweats on the Bowflex, muscles straining and bulging in new places every day.
Joe slows to a walk and just watches as Nick steps back from the machine and stretches. Nick’s shoulders are broad and cut, muscles in his arms and back still lean but corded with strength. When Nick drags the hem of his shirt up to wipe at his sweaty face, Joe can see that his soft little underbelly is starting to disappear, and it throws him headfirst into a panic.
He forces himself to take a drink of water and tries to calm down but all he can think about is Nick, skinny and translucent, sick and getting sicker, all those years ago.
A wolf-whistle breaks Joe’s train of thought, and Kevin pants out, “Woohoo! Look at that! Nick J is off the chain,” from Joe’s left.
Nick grins and flexes and asks Joe if he wants tickets to the gun show, but Joe doesn’t joke back, just gets off the treadmill and heads upstairs to shower.
***
When they play Atlantis they get to spend a rare few hours by the pool, and Joe makes sure to cannonball right near where Nick’s sitting cross-legged on a lounge chair talking to some girls in low rise bikinis, even though there’s a No Diving sign three feet away.
They all get hit with the cool splash of water, and Nick laughs as the two girls huddle closer to him, shaking drops of water from their tanned skin and blond hair. Joe wipes his wet hair back from his face and watches Nick apologizing and excusing himself. He can imagine what those girls are thinking when Nick stands up tall and pulls off his t-shirt, heading towards the pool to deliver some payback.
Joe dunks half of his face under the water, taking a gulp of chlorinated water and then pulling up to spit it out as Nick slides into the pool, muscles of his arms and chest tensing up as his hips meet the water.
Some part of Joe’s brain knows he should be prepared for the swooshing tidal wave of water Nick sends in his direction, but even as he feels himself being dragged under all he can think about is how tight and stiff Nick’s little pink nipples looked against the smooth expanse of his chest.
They wrestle in the pool, and although Nick pins Joe every time he actually catches him, most of the time Joe slips out of Nick’s grasp way too easily, moving fast and unpredictable in the water.
Joe whoops as he pops up behind Nick, kicking at his brother’s back with both feet. “Too slow for Joe, hey, muscle man?”
Nick spins and lunges at him, managing to grab onto one of Joe’s ankles and dragging him through the water, flailing and splashing like an idiot. And even though Nick’s got a good grip on Joe’s foot, Joe keeps wiggling out of reach, preventing Nick from getting a good grip on him anywhere else.
Nick doesn’t give up though, dragging Joe towards the edge of the pool and boxing him in. “Slippery- little- jerk-,” Nick pants, pushing Joe so that he’s facing the fake boulders decorating the side of the pool, Nick’s knee shoved between Joe’s legs so that he can’t drop down into the water and slide away.
When Nick gets both of Joe’s arms pinned crisscrossed against his own body like he’s hugging himself with Nick’s strangely big arms wrapped around him, Joe stills his squirming for a moment, relaxing back against his brother’s chest. They’re both breathing hard, but it feels good, and Joe marvels at how different their forearms look, pushed together. Nick’s still so much paler than Joe, but his forearms are thicker, freckled and smooth, whereas Joe’s are longer, darker and spattered with dark hair. There’s a new vein running the course of Nick’s forearm, and when he pulls himself closer, crowding at Joe’s back, the vein stands out even clearer.
“I win,” Nick says, and his voice vibrates against the back of Joe’s neck, buzzing all the way through him.
Joe smirks, and says, “Not yet,” then pushes his feet up against the wall and shoves them both backward into the water.
Nick stumbles and loses his footing but he doesn’t let go of his python grip on Joe’s chest, so they both slip under the water for a moment until Nick pulls them both up.
“You’ll never take me alive!” Joe yells, and keeps struggling as Nick pulls him backwards through the water, accidentally bumping into a few kids playing in the water nearby.
When Nick reaches the other side of the pool, he slides down onto the bench-like shelf that wraps around the lagoon-y part of the pool and tugs Joe into his lap.
“Surrender,” Nick growls, freeing up one arm to hook around Joe’s neck in a mock stranglehold. His other arm squeezes Joe tight around the waist, keeping him pressed down tight on his lap.
Joe goes suddenly, exaggeratedly limp in Nick’s arms, slouching like a rag doll. “Fine,” he sighs. “I surrender.”
Nick keeps holding him tight. “For some reason,” he says, sounding breathless, “I don’t believe you.”
Joe grins when he feels Nick rest his face against Joe’s back. Even though Nick’s all mister fitness these days, Joe can still tire him out.
“Slippery as a snake,” Nick mutters, and Joe shivers when he feels Nick’s lips moving against his skin.
“M’not slippery,” Joe says. “I’m sleek, remember?”
“Mmm,” Nick says against his back, and loosens his grip on his brother, letting his arms trail down Joe’s back, then dip underwater and skim down his sides. It tickles, but not in a way that makes Joe want to squirm away. Rather, it makes him want to burrow back into Nick’s arms again and stay there all day.
It’s then when he feels his brother’s dick, thick and hard, trapped under his thigh.
Joe’s senses go all funky, all of the bright colors and sounds around them fading as if he’d slipped under the water again, until the only thing he can focus on is Nick pressing against him.
It’s probably just from all of the friction, after all Nick’s still only sixteen, and he pops boners at the weirdest times. Normally Joe would laugh at him, or, if he was feeling generous, just ignore it, but today, now, for some reason, Joe does something different.
He leans forward, reaching out to grab a kids’ raft that had floated nearby with one hand. When he moves, he feels Nick’s hands flutter away from his waist, brushing against the back of his leg as he adjusts himself in his shorts. Joe snags the raft and then reaches back, pushing Nick’s hand away and pressing down on Nick’s cock and settling himself right on top of it, so it’s nestled nice and tight between Joe’s legs.
Nick gasps but doesn’t say anything, just grabs onto Joe’s hips and digs his fingers in against bone.
Joe leans forward, folding his arms on the little raft and resting his head in the cradle of his arms. He squints into the sunlight and watches all the people laughing and playing with their kids in the pool around them. He wonders how normal this looks, two teenage boys, brothers, one sitting on the other’s lap in a crowded pool in the Bahamas. Not that anything about them is normal, really, but it’s a game he likes to play in his head sometimes, when they’re out in public. I wonder if I look like a normal guy buying a pretzel? he thinks, when he stops at a street vendor in New York City. I wonder if I look like a normal guy putting gas in my car? he thinks at a BP station in Pasadena.
They must look normal enough, because nobody’s paying them much attention.
Joe squeezes his legs, tightening and releasing, and feels Nick’s breath huff out against his skin. He hears Nick whisper his name, urgently, panicking like he wants to push Joe away, but Joe stays put, feeling Nick’s dick flex against his balls.
“Joe-”
“Just relax, you freak,” Joe says over his shoulder, and instantly regrets his choice of words. Nick’s not the freak in this situation.
“Can you get off me?” Nick’s voice is quiet, pleading.
“No,” Joe says. “Just relax.”
Nick quiets down and sits back against the edge of the pool, but Joe feels him sliding his hips back a bit, trying to dislodge his hard-on from the pressure of Joe’s legs. Joe has to bite his tongue to keep from groaning at the feel of Nick’s cock dragging against his balls, rubbing at the sensitive skin behind them. It feels shockingly good, and Joe clenches to try to hold Nick in place. Arousal zings through him, setting off bolts of lightning in his blood while his face remains impassive, bored, nothing to see here.
Nick’s hands float out in the water, swishing around innocently, like a normal kid in a pool, Joe thinks, only Nick lets his hand brush lightly against Joe’s shorts on one pass, a reconnaissance mission. He does it again, only this time Joe pushes up a bit so that Nick finds what he’s looking for, Joe’s half-hard dick hidden in the floating fabric of his swim trunks.
Nick jerks when his fingers brush over Joe’s dick, and then he lets his hands float away again, making a slow figure-eight motion in the water. When he comes back around he fumbles against Joe’s crotch, rubbing the heel of his hand against the sensitive head of Joe’s dick before curling his fingers around the shaft. Joe bites his lip and pushes back against Nick’s lap, tightening his thighs around the insistent press of Nick’s cock, hoping the tiny raft offers enough cover for what they’re doing.
Nick chokes back a weird noise and squeezes Joe’s dick with one hand while he push-push-pushes against Joe’s balls and it feels so good, even though the pace is maddeningly slow. Nick leans forward, resting his pool-damp face against Joe’s shoulder blades, and it must look like they’re just tired, tuckered out from their horsing around before.
Joe looks around, sees kids playing Marco Polo, moms smearing on bright white sun block, college kids drinking fruity frozen drinks, and has to grasp his brother’s hand under water and try not to come while Nick rubs off against him.
Nick doesn’t say anything, other than the occasional breathy unh, and so neither does Joe. He just tries to focus on the warmth of the tropical sun drying the water from his back and arms, and how much he loves his brother.
Nick wraps his arms around Joe’s waist and they reach all the way around, interwoven and clutching at Joe’s sides. Nick grabs him tight, tighter, reaches up with one hand to grab Joe’s shoulder and then pulls him down hard and shudders, kicking his feet against the bottom of the pool and flexing his toes. He’s coming; Nick is having an orgasm right here in the pool, in front of everyone and anyone and Joe just wants to protect him, shield him from world at large.
He twists to the side, turning his whole body around so he can at least partially face Nick, and almost wishes he hadn’t. Nick looks flushed and horny, debauched and desperate, and not at all normal. He’s staring at Joe’s mouth and he’s breathing fast and squeezing Joe’s hand so tight Joe can feel their knuckles grind together.
Joe stares at his brother, watches him lick his lips, and feels like he might come anyway, even though nobody’s touching his dick anymore. Joe smiles shakily, lifting one dripping hand out of the pool water to ruffle through Nick’s drying curls.
“I want to kiss you,” Nick says quietly, panting a bit, eyes fixed on Joe’s mouth.
Joe’s mouth drops open in surprise. “Uh,” he stammers. “Nicky-”
“I want to kiss you,” Nick says again, this time looking Joe in the eyes. “So bad. I know it’s weird. It’s- I’m weird. And I know I can’t, not here, not now. But I want to. And I just. Thought you should know that.”
Joe’s heart punches at his chest from the inside, feels like it’s going to explode. “Yeah,” Joe says dumbly. “That’s- we can do that. Later, okay? For now, let’s just,” he blows out a breath and Nick nods at him.
When he moves to slide off of Nick’s lap, Nick clutches at Joe’s leg frantically, holding it across his lap even as Joe’s butt settles on the seat next to him. He says, “Joseph, please. Just- stay. Just a little more, okay?”
Joe smiles, slips both feet into Nick’s lap and whines “Rub my feeeeeeet Nicholas!”
It seems to work, Nick snorts and rolls his eyes, shoves some water at him. They grin at each other for a long moment, until something catches Nick’s eye and he kicks Joe off into the water with one quick move.
“Hi babies,” Mom says, squatting down at the side of the pool. “Hope you’re hungry for lunch! We’ve got that thing with the charity auction and Melissa told me they’ve got trays and trays of stone crabs!”
“Hi Mom,” Nick says, drawing his feet up to the bench and hugging his knees to his chest. His voice cracks when he speaks. “Sounds great, but I’m, uh, not really that-”
Joe rolls his eyes, reaches out and plucks hard at Nick’s nipple. “Ow!” Nick yells and covers his chest protectively. “What the hell!”
Mom looks disapproving. “Joseph, behave. Nicholas, language.”
“Sorry Mom,” Joe says, opening his eyes wide, like even he’s surprised at how rascally he’s being. “Stone crabs sound delicious,” Joe says. “Nick’s really hungry, and so am I. When do we eat?”
While they’re toweling off, Nick rubs at his chest, still flushed where Joe pinched him. “What was that for?” Nick scowls.
“Enough with this stupid diet,” Joe says with a frown. “You gotta eat, Nick. I’m not kidding.”
Nick rolls his eyes and pulls on his t-shirt. He pinches at his stomach and says, “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly wasting aw-”
Nick’s voice trails off when he sees Joe’s expression. His eyes are fierce, jaw clenched, and Nick knows better than to mess with him.
“Yeah, okay,” he says. “I could eat.”
***
The show that night is amazing, possibly their best ever. Nick is just on, and every time Joe pushes into his space he swears everyone will be able to see the sparks flying between them.
When the show is over, everyone is celebrating, hugging and shouting about going dancing, swimming or out for a bite to eat. Joe’s got fire in his veins, and every time he looks up he finds Nick’s hot gaze on him, relentless and hungry.
Greg grabs Joe by the neck and says, “Wanna go make some trouble?”
Joe grins widely and is about to respond when he feels Nick’s fingers tugging at his.
“Hey,” Nick says, voice soft but eyes blazing when he looks at Joe. “I’m, uh, not feeling great. Think I’m gonna go right up to bed, maybe get some pay-per-view. You want to-?”
Dad cuts in, picking up on the bat signal from across the room. “Not feeling well, Nicholas? Have you been checking-?”
Nick rolls his eyes. “Yeah, Dad, I’m fine. I just. I think I ate too much before the show. Just tired, I think.”
He’s still holding on to two of Joe’s fingers, rubbing them subtly. Nick’s lips are soft and wet, shiny with spit from where he’s been licking them. “So, yeah,” he says, voice lowered in Joe’s direction. “I’m gonna head up. You, uh, you wanna come?”
Joe has to look away. He can’t think when Nick’s so close, and he has to be thinking now.
“Nah,” Joe says breezily. “You go on up. I’m gonna hang out for a bit.”
Nick tugs on his fingers once and says, “Yeah? Well, actually, maybe I will too.” When Joe looks up, surprised, he finds Nick’s eyes hopeful.
“Nicky, c’mon. Get some rest.” Joe tugs him into a loose hug, ruffles his hair and feels Nick stiffen up like he always does when he feels like he’s being patronized.
When Joe says, “Promise I won’t wake you when I come in,” Nick’s eyes darken with hurt. He doesn’t say anything else to Joe, just turns and leaves with security, muttering good-nights to the general crowd.
Joe feels like a first-class jerk, but he knows it’s for the best. They just need a little space. He needs to give Nick some time to think this through, be sure of what he wants. Because Joe may not be a sex genius, but he knows one thing: once he gets his mouth on Nick, he’s not going to be able to stop after one kiss, or one night.
***
When Joe sneaks into their room at two-thirty in the morning, Nick is, as he’d hoped, dead asleep. Joe’s sure to stay quiet as he slides out of his clothes and washes his face. He creeps around the room in stealth-mode, presumably not to wake Nick, but then when he finds a Men’s Health magazine on Nick’s chest, open to a spread on how to intensify your abs workout, he snorts loudly, rolls up the magazine, and thwaps Nick with it on the head.
“W-whuza?” Nick says, raising his arm to shield his face.
“You’re an idiot,” Joe says.
“Joe?” Nick snuffles, settling back into his pillow, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. Then he pushes himself up on his arms and rolls over towards the nightstand. “Time is it?”
“Time for you to stop being such a moron,” Joe says, sitting on the side of Nick’s bed, shoving him over.
Nick glares at him. “You didn’t have to go out,” he says, hurt still in his eyes. “You don’t have to- you don’t have to do anything, okay?”
Joe laughs, thinks he’ll wait for Nick to get it. He slides down, down until he’s under the covers and can wrap an arm and a leg around Nick. He traces a finger down Nick’s chest and then spreads his palm flat against Nick’s barely rounded little belly.
Nick squirms under his palm, pushing at Joe’s hand and sucking in his stomach at the same time. Joe swats at his hands, then pushes up Nick’s t-shirt and says, “Relax, Nicky.”
He rubs his hand against Nick’s jumpy abdomen, and through the lights reflected from the resort through the gauzy curtains Joe can see Nick’s boxers start to bulge and tent. Slides down further into the covers and bends his head so he can mouth over the pale skin there.
“Joe,” Nick breathes. “Joe, what are you, oh. Joe, are you-?”
“You’re perfect,” Joe says, nosing up the hem of Nick’s t-shirt even further so he can kiss at the spot where Nick’s ribs end. “Completely perfect.”
“Oh,” Nick sighs, and runs shaky fingers through Joe’s hair. “M’not.”
Joe growls and bites at Nick’s tummy, letting his teeth sink into baby soft skin.
“Ah!” Nick cries out, curling up to cradle Joe’s head. Joe nips him again, right in the softest most vulnerable area low on Nick’s belly, and when he convulses again, Joe feels Nick’s dick, stiff and hot, nudging at his hand.
“You are,” Joe says, fierce and unrelenting.
He shoves at Nick’s shirt, bites again, higher up on his chest this time. Nick’s body is bowed under him, jolting with every bite, hands grasping at Joe like he’s going to disappear.
“Do you understand me?” Joe says just before he lays sucking kisses on Nick’s nipples, taking extra care to use his tongue to soothe the one he’d pinched earlier.
Nick writhes under him, neck arched, throat working at the same pace as his hips. Joe watches him, waits for his nod, but all Nick says is Joe, Joe, Joe.
Joe pushes himself up on his hands and knees, crawls over his brother, wipes Nick’s curls away from his face. “You’re perfect,” he says again, and he’ll keep saying it until Nick starts to believe him.
Nick tugs him down, chasing Joe’s mouth and so Joe kisses him. And kisses him, and kisses him and kisses him until he feels lightheaded. Nick’s moving desperate beneath him, but his kisses are prolonged, thorough, wet and messy.
Joe feels Nick’s hands, tentative and trembling, slide down his bare back. When Nick tucks his fingers into the back of Joe’s boxers and tugs, Joe goes down hard, crashing on top of his brother and grinding up against him.
“Oh! Joe, love you so much,” Nick pants. “So much, I can’t even-”
“C’mon, c’mon,” Joe says, interrupting and tugging at Nick’s shirt. “Off. Take it off.”
Nick sits up to take his t-shirt off, forcing Joe into an awkward straddle, knees on either side of Nick’s hips. Joe helps him tug the shirt over his head, and Nick lets him, opting instead to grab Joe’s ass with both hands and pull him more fully into his lap.
“Oh!” is all Joe can say when Nick rocks into him, bowing his head to suck on Joe’s collarbone and lick at his neck. “Kiss me, c’mon. Kiss me,” he says.
Nick does, whimpering into Joe’s mouth when their tongues push together. When Joe feels Nick’s shoulder flex and shake, he pulls away and looks down between their bodies; watches Nick jerk himself off inside his boxers.
“Lemme see,” he pants and tugs at the elastic band of Nick’s shorts.
Nick doesn’t let go of his own cock, just uses his free hand to struggle out of his underwear, pushing them down to his thighs. He has to wiggle and raise his hips to do it, lifting Joe in the process. It’s insane how hot the whole thing makes Joe, and he shoves at his own underwear to get his cock out too.
Joe’s own cock is stiff and obvious, stretching out the front of his underwear, and when he pulls the fabric down it springs free and slaps against his own belly leaving shiny trails of precome on Joe’s tanned skin.
Nick groans when he sees it. “Oh, oh, Joe. You’re so- unh. So w-wet. All wet. I wanna-”
Joe doesn’t even have to tell him to do it, that it’s okay. Nick just wraps his hand around both of their dicks, rubbing them together, getting them both all slick and hot. He can’t hold them well enough to keep jacking off, so Joe lends a hand of his own, and together they make a hot tunnel to thrust up into.
“Love you,” Joe pants, tries to catch Nick’s eye, but Nick is steadfastly staring at their cocks sliding together in their joint grip. Without thinking, Joe reaches up and fists Nick’s curls at the back of his head and tugs, hard. Nick winces, lets out a hurt little noise at the same time his cock flexes and blurts out a hot dribble of precome.
Joe squeezes them hard, and speeds up their hands. None of this is going how he thought it would have. He always imagined being gentle with Nick, taking it slow and easy. Clearly he’d underestimated how unbelievably hot his brother would look, all turned on and frantic with it.
Joe’s known for awhile that he’s wanted to kiss Nick. He’s only just figured out that he might want more than that. Every time he even thinks about what ‘more’ even means his dick shoots a little, drooling at the thought.
“So perfect,” Joe grunts, and yeah, he’s not very creative with his sex talk but it’s not like he’s planned that either. “Got me all, oh, yeah like that. Felt like I was gonna pop the whole night.”
He sets a fierce pace, stripping fast and furious, watching the muscles on Nick’s arms bunch and flex with every stroke.
“Unh!” he gasps. “Joe, Joe, I’m gonna. Ah! Gonna c-come. Gonna- oh!”
He can feel Nick’s dick swell and spasm next to his, just before Nick blows it all over his own stomach.
Joe wants to hold him through it, wants to help Nick come down, make it a beautiful experience and all that, but Joe can’t wait.
He shoves Nick’s chest so that he falls back, and Joe pushes up on top of him. He slides his own hard dick around in the mess on Nick’s belly, scooping come out of Nick’s belly button with the head of his dick and rubbing it in until the skin beneath is pink and slippery.
Nick’s watching him, biting his lip, trying to help although it’s clear he’s done for, so Joe just takes his arms and pins them up next to his head. Holds him down and says, “This is good, Nicky, just- just let me.”
Nick’s eyes are hazy but he doesn’t look away. Just nods at Joe and mouths anything.
Joe goes wild, fucking up against Nick’s soft, slippery belly, holding him down and thinking about what it would be like to fuck him for real. He buries his face in Nick’s sweaty neck and says as much, barely coherent words spilling from his mouth.
“Fill you up, f-fuck you so good,” he mutters and he feels Nick’s cock twitch against his hip, starting to swell all over again.
“Oh,” Nick moans, eyes wide and mouth shiny wet with spit.
“You like that? You want it?” Joe asks, more for the zing of arousal that tightens in his balls when he says it than being actually serious.
When Nick whispers “I’d let you,” all soft and hoarse, Joe loses it. He shoves and shoves his dick against all that soft, sweet skin until he covers Nick with his come.
***
“Nicky?” Joe says quietly, nudging his brother in the seat next to him on the plane. Nick’s curled up under a blanket, not sleeping, but looking as if he’s about to be.
“Mmm?”
Joe lifts the armrest between them and presses up close behind his brother, curling an arm under the blanket so he can rest his hand on Nick’s belly.
“You good?”
It’s the same question Joe always asks him, which can apply to any number of things that might not be good for Nick at any given moment.
Nick doesn’t turn to look at him, just keeps his eyes closed and smiles, nodding.
“Mm hmm.”
“Good,” Joe exhales. “Do you need anything? Low-carb snack? Diet soda?”
Nick stays curled up the same, keeps smiling. He runs his hand down Joe’s arm and snuggles into him.
“Mm mm.”
Joe laughs. “You’re a man of many words, Nicholas. It’s no wonder you’re such a great songwriter.”
Nick laughs softly and pinches his arm under the blanket.
Joe just watches him for awhile. Wonders if Nick will ever realize how amazing he is. When he’s almost sure Nick’s asleep, he asks him another question, whispering against Nick’s ear.
“Did you write that song for me?”
A few beats pass, and then Nick says, “Yes.”
Joe huffs out a laugh, warm breath blowing against Nick’s neck. “You don’t even know which song I’m talking about,” he says, smiling.
“Doesn’t matter,” Nick says. He covers Joe’s hand on his stomach and tangles their fingers together.
Joe grins, mashing his face up against the back of Nick’s neck. “I really liked it,” he says, and they fall asleep twisted together.
THE END