Untitled clone!fic
Title: Untitled (for boyfriends_fic Threesome Challenge)
Pairing: Joe/Nick/bb!Nick
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Delicious jailbait (bb!Nick is 14)
Summary: novaberry requested now!Joe/now!Nick/bb!Nick. Specifically, I want THIS NICK to SOMEHOW be the catalyst for first-time!SEXY action:
Click for bigger.
The main thing is that Nick had forgotten what a hopeless dweeb he'd been.
Well, not forgotten. Forcibly blocked from his memory, really. Sure, it's the perennial stereotype: everybody hates their middle school selves, their awful haircuts, their questionable fashion decisions. But Nick uncharitably grumbles that most people don't have to actually meet their 14-year-old repressed selves in the flesh.
Joe just laughs at this. Laughs. Nick is so totally firing him.
"Shut up, Nick, you were the COOLEST at that age!" he says, reaching out to ruffle Big Nick's curls. When Nick ducks away and shoots him a look like maybe he's lucky to still have that hand, Joe just shrugs and ruffles Nicky's hair instead, so much longer, a frizzy disaster from the days before Nick learned how to use taming gel.
Little Nick lets him, but he doesn't look too happy about it. "I'm right here, you know," he says, his voice already mostly over the horrible cracking, but still not as deep as it would be by seventeen. "You can tell me I'm cool to my face, if you think that." Like Joe had insulted him. Like being cool is a bad thing, something to be avoided. Nick wants to bang his head into a wall. When Nicky'd first got here - bursting out of the bathroom into Nick and Joe's hotel room right before their alarms went off this morning - he'd been more than half convinced they were not his older self and an older version of his big brother, but rather two impostors who dressed weird and possibly did drugs. It seems like they haven't quite managed to shake that impression completely.
Joe just finds Nicky's oxymoronic combination of uptight and spontaneously silly to be endearing, however, and he smiles indulgently at the kid now. "Sorry, Nick, it's just weird, you know? Having two of you. Totally the coolest thing ever, though!" he adds quickly, and the thing is, he absolutely means it. Nick can tell. This isn't just some ploy to make Nicky feel better, more welcome in a time where he most definitely does not belong; Joe is genuinely completely stoked to have two of Nick to look after. Not, Nick reminds himself firmly, that Joe has really had to do much "looking after" him for at least a couple of years now. Or that Little Nick is actually so little he can't do the majority of looking after himself. But all day, Joe has been solicitous, making sure Nicky checks his sugar at the same times Nick does, helping him to pick out the right things to eat at the right times, with the calm excuse that this Nick, this young, skinny, fragile-looking Nick, is still learning how to deal with a disease that grown-up Nick has mastered. It's a flimsy excuse, but it seems to really please Joe, puts a smile on his face whenever Nicky smiles and thanks him for the help.
The kid seems to relax at that, taking comfort in Joe's willingness to be nice to him. Nick feels a momentary twinge of guilt; he's not been exactly friendly to the kid so far, never mean but just...he has to keep some distance, here. Joe might be ready to adopt Little Nick, but Big Nick's got to be the adult in this situation. Kind of...like every situation ever.
"We need to try to figure out how to get him home," Nick says firmly, crossing his arms. Joe rolls his eyes; Nicky frowns and sidles almost imperceptibly closer to Joe.
"Nick, he popped into existence in our bathtub, dude," Joe says, as if Nick's forgotten somehow. "It's not like we can give him train fare and a cookie and send him home."
"Yeah, and I can't have cookies," Nicky pipes up smugly, smirking. Nick stares at him. Joe gestures at the kid like, "See? My point exactly," and seriously, there is not enough Tylenol in the WORLD for the headache blooming behind Nick's eyes.
"Look," Joe says in a low tone, moving in close to Nick and bending his head to murmur where Nicky can't hear. "We don't know how he got here and at the moment we don't know how to send him back. Maybe a theory'll come to us as we go along, but for now, lay off the kid, alright? It's not his fault he's here."
"I know that, Joe, but it's not like--"
"It's not like it's gonna kill us to look after him for a couple of days."
"What if it isn't just a couple of days, Joe? Think about it."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Joe says breezily, stepping back and turning to grin down at Nicky - and, wow, Nick remembers being shorter than Joe, but it's been a while, and it's surreal to see how much older and bigger Joe looks than this Nick. "Now. Who wants to go down at MarioKart?"
"You do," both Nicks say simultaneously, and then eye each other with a little smile on both their faces that apparently means a truce for now.
***
Nicky is insanely good at MarioKart, apparently still playing it on a regular basis whereas both Big Nick and Joe have fallen out of practice. He is picky about his socks (he'll only wear the kind with a grey toe, and Nick does remember that particular obsession, sadly) and stolidly refuses to eat brussels sprouts no matter how many ways Joe tries to convince him they're not really sprouts so much as little evil baby lettuces. Actually he doesn't much like veggies at all, but he eats them because Nick tells him that they're the only way he'll ever get tall and built as fast as he's supposed to. Nick only feels a little guilty leaving out the fact that he still never eats brussels sprouts or lima beans if he can possibly avoid them.
Nicky seems to have come to a grudging respect of Big Nick primarily because he grew up tall and strong, bigger than Joe, even, which seemed to kind of blow his mind at first. Now he just pesters Nick about his exercise routine, how much he can benchpress, how many pull-ups he can do. Nick catches him once trying to measure his own flexed bicep with his hand, one eye squinted up to size it up against Nick's.
It makes Nick blush when Nicky matter-of-factly tells him that, "I grow up to be pretty sexy," but Joe loves it. "Dang straight, you do," he says, grinning at Nick like the cat that got the canary, then putting his hands on his hips to look Nicky up and down. "Though you're pretty sexy already, I think."
Now both Nicks are blushing, Big Nick hissing, "Joe!" in an attempt to get him to stop flirting with his 14-year-old alternate-reality little brother, jeez. Joe's autonomic flirt response, kind of like a normal person's knee-jerk reaction, gets him in trouble constantly, and although Nick feels safely immune to it, he remembers being 14 and inclined to worship Joe without any encouragement. And Joe hadn't been nearly the accomplished flirter at seventeen that he was at twenty; Nick doesn't want him overwhelming the kid. Possibly he is starting to feel a little protective of Nicky, too. Totally against his will.
Nicky just laughs, though, bright and uninhibited, the sound kind of startling both Joe and Big Nick. He puts his hands on his own skinny hips and drags his eyes up and down Joe, and something about it is somehow less a joke than what Joe had done. "Not as sexy as you," he says, and it's almost, just a hair's breadth from bashful when he says it, his cheeks pinker than normal.
Joe doesn't look at Nick, but Nick can see the way his face lights up, creasing into a smile so open it makes Nick feel weirdly twisted up, some feeling between nostalgia and jealousy pulling at his stomach. Joe says, "Why, thank you, young Nicholas!" as he bows with a grand gesture, then reaches out and hauls Nicky in, flopping him over his shoulder and then straightening up. Nicky is way too big for a fireman's carry but neither he nor Joe seem to notice or care, Nicky laughing breathlessly and Joe talking too-loudly over Nicky's giggling that, really, he doesn't weigh anything, he's as light as a feather! Little Nick's face is all red from being held partially upside-down, his mouth open and gasping for air against Joe's shoulder, and Nick gets up and grabs a keycard off the dresser and leaves the hotel room, ignoring Joe calling after him. He knows he's no fun to be around, anymore, too old for manhandling and wrestling and laughing like he has nothing to lose. He doesn't need the reminder.
***
Nick comes back late, too late, really, past his curfew by almost fifteen minutes. He hadn't gone out of the hotel, all unwilling to deal with the security measures and the sneaking. He'd just wandered around the enormous atrium, poking into the tiny gift shop and only buying a bag of potato chips, walking in circles around the fountain until the concierge gave him a dirty look. Nick just isn't good with wasting restless energy. If he'd thought it through, he'd have grabbed his gym shorts and gone to work out, burning off this restlessness that's been humming under his skin since Nicky showed up. Now he supposes he's got nothing better to do than go back to his room and hope Joe doesn't decide to give him the third degree. He doesn't feel up to being honest right now, with himself or Joe.
Luckily, when he gets back, Joe and Nicky are in the midst of getting ready for bed, Joe taking out his contacts and Nicky brushing his teeth with the extra toothbrush they got from the front desk. Actually, what they're really doing is having a foot-fight, kicking at each other and trying to push in front by levering each other out of the way with their hips, both of them snorting little bursts of laughter as they try to remain straight-faced. Nick stands in the doorway to the bathroom for a few seconds, watching them, not really believing he was ever that young and crazy. Then he comes into the bathroom while they're both distracted bumping into each other, wedges his hands in between their pressed-together arms, and shoves them both roughly to either side, squishing them both into the wall so he can lean in close to the mirror and pretend to fix his hair, smirking. Then he turns and walks back out, totally casual. He hears Nicky spit out his mouthful of suds into the sink and can almost feel them staring at him like he's crazy.
Then, without warning, Nick is tackled solidly from behind and knocked facefirst onto the nearest bed (Joe's, with his rejected options for this morning's outfit still strewn out all over it). Joe flops down next to him, instantly scrambling up to get Nick into a headlock, and Nicky is clinging right to Nick's back like an overgrown monkey, knees tucked tight against Nick's hips to hang on while his hands skid down Nick's ribs until he finds the tickle spot he's going for. Nick gasps and tries to squirm away, laughing and telling them both to cut it out. Joe merely hollers encouragement to Nicky and digs a noogie into Nick's scalp, and they don't let up until Nick's laughing so hard he can't actually breathe.
They lie there on their backs, sprawled elbow-to-elbow on Joe's big bed, for a long time catching their breath, Nick in between his big brother and his little self. When Nicky speaks, his quiet voice is startling in the silence. "I miss my time."
Nick finds himself reaching out and taking Nicky's hand. "I would too," he says. "You'll get back there. I'm sure you will."
"Thanks," Nicky replies, voice even smaller. Joe props himself up on his elbow to look at him over Nick, concern creasing his brow. "For, y'know," the kid continues. "Everything. Taking care of me."
Joe beams, looking like his day is absolutely made. He flops across Nick, knocking the wind out of him in an "oof!" sound, to throw his arms around Nicky and give him a big hug. "You're not hard to take care of," he says, muffled into Nicky's bony shoulder. "You don't eat much or take up a lot of space. We could probably fit you into one of our suitcases, whaddayou think, Nick?"
Nick raises his eyebrows. "Oh, definitely. Just throw him in your big bag with some snacks like in Ocean's Twelve, right?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Joe enthuses over Nick's giggles and squirms. Joe waves an arm demonstratively. "Mom'd let us keep him, right?"
"I'm pretty sure mom wouldn't toss me out," Nick says, but he's actually not exactly sure. If it were an extra Frankie or Kevin, no question she'd keep him, but he's pretty sure nobody but Joe would be okay with an extra Nick.
Nicky finally wriggles out of Joe's hold and props his chin on Nick's stomach, peering up at him thoughtfully. "Will you toss me out?" he asks. Nick's jaw drops.
"What? No, of course not!"
Nicky is tracing absent little circles on Nick's side, making him flinch ticklishly. "But you don't like me very much," he says, prodding. Joe makes a sound somewhere between hurt and offended, and Nick slides a hand over the back of Nicky's neck and into his soft fluff of curls.
"It isn't that," Nick says quietly, fingers scratching gently. Nicky's eyes slip half shut. "It just scares me, I guess. I've changed a lot about me since I was your age. I worry that...maybe all the changes aren't good ones."
Joe's hand creeps onto Nick's hip, squeezes reassuringly. Nicky blinks his eyes back open again and gives Nick an assessing look. "You seem okay," he says finally, tone making it more a statement of absolute truth than it strictly should sound. "You seem to be doing okay. And Joe still takes care of you. Me. Us, I mean."
Grinning, Nick presses his shoulder a little more firmly into Joe on his left. "Yeah. We're not doing too bad."
***
They split up the beds, Joe and Nicky in one, Nick keeping his own for himself. Joe volunteered to share, claiming to be less of a blanket hog than Nick, which is patently untrue. Nick doesn't know what wakes him up, but it's just after one in the morning when he opens his eyes on the thick orange-darkness of nighttime cut with the filtered secondhand light of streetlamps through the curtains. At first he just blinks fuzzily at the red LCD display of the clock on the nightstand, trying to orient himself, and then he hears the rustle of sheets across the room and a small, dark murmur.
Nick wonders what's going on even as a part of him already knows, somewhere deep like a tight spot at the base of his spine. The tiny little whimper that comes a few seconds later is somehow no surprise, but he gasps anyway, and the rustling stops dead.
It's clear Joe isn't going to risk anything by asking Nick if he's awake, so Nick saves him the trouble. "Joe," he says, voice rough and creaky with sleep. "What are you doing?"
"Nick," is all Joe says, and his voice is awake, alert.
Nick swallows. "Nicky?"
There's a beat of silence, and then Nick's voice, trembling but kind of steely underneath, "I asked him to."
After another tense second, Nick pushes back his blankets and swings his legs over the side of the bed, shuffling across the three-feet space to Joe's. Joe is looking up at him, his eyes just spots of glitter in the dark.
"I. I wanted to help him," he says, but he's still looking at Nick like he's waiting for permission. "I just...he needed..."
One of them shifts under the covers, and Nicky lets out another little whine, high in his throat. It makes Nick swallow again, throat gone dry.
"Here," Joe says, because it's pretty clear Nick has no idea what to say, "Come here. Lay down." He shifts over, nudging Nicky to make some extra room, and holds up the covers for Nick to crawl in next to Joe. Nick does, unquestioning, something in Joe's voice letting him know he doesn't need to worry about it.
Nick settles in, propped up on his elbow with his hand settled lightly at Joe's waist. Joe's just in his boxers, though Nick remembers clearly that he had on a t-shirt, too, when they turned out the lights. Nick rests his chin on Joe's shoulder and Joe pushes down the sheets so Nick can see. It's still dark, everything just picked out in outlines and impressions, but Nick can see well enough that Nicky's shorts are pulled down and his shirt hiked up, the tiny swell of his belly rising and falling rapidly as he breathes too quick. Joe's hand is wrapped around his stiff little dick, the wet head of it all Nick can make out above the cradle of Joe's thumb. Nick flits his eyes to Nicky's, huge and dark and fixed on him, and he gives the kid a smile.
"Let Joe help," he says softly. "It's okay. I'll...I'll watch."
Nicky's eyes fall shut and his hips jerk a little. Joe smiles and starts moving his hand on him again, slow and careful and measured. Nick's fingers tighten on Joe's hip and Joe hums, leaning his head back against Nick's shoulder. His stubbled jaw scrapes lightly against Nick's cheek, startling, and Nick turns his head enough to kiss Joe on the cheek.
"He..." Joe starts, voice cracking a little. He swallows, tries again. "He was asleep, he was, like...rubbing on me in his sleep," he whispers, and Nicky shudders and makes a desperate little sound. "He was so hard, Nick, I couldn't...couldn't let him stay like that."
"No," Nick says, and it probably shouldn't be agreement, but it is. "He'd never have been able to sleep."
"Right," Joe replies, and Nick can feel some of the tension bleed out of him, his body resting a little more against Nick's. "You used to get this way, I remember. And you had to ignore it because I was laying right next to you, and Kevin in the next bed over, but..." Joe turns his head a little more, towards Nick's, his lips dragging against Nick's cheek. "You could've done this. You could've jerked off, I wouldn't have minded. I'd have helped you, too."
Nick's hips jolt forward a tiny bit of their own accord, pressing against the curve of Joe's ass, and Nicky comes simultaneously, his head thrown back and his body winding up tight, wetness spilling over Joe's hand. Joe sucks in a harsh gasp, working Nicky through it slow and gentle, so careful with him it makes Nick's heart ache. When Nicky finally settles back to the mattress, kind of melting down into a loose-limbed sprawl, Joe carefully plucks up something from the foot of the bed - his t-shirt, Nick realizes - and wipes off himself and Nicky, who watches him with slitted, sleepy-looking eyes. Nick reaches out and pushes Nicky's damp flyaway curls from his forehead, the kid nuzzling lightly against Nick's hand.
Suddenly Joe shifts, wiggling against Nick a little, and Nick makes a choked noise when Joe curves right back against his dick, gone hard in his boxers. Joe's watching him, wide-eyed, waiting. Nick puts his hand back on Joe's hip and holds him steady while he rocks forward once, tentatively, his cock sliding up against fabric and the muscle of Joe's ass. Joe's eyelids flicker and he reaches back, grabbing a fistful of Nick's shorts.
"Nick," he whispers, breath ghosting over Nick's cheek. "Can I? Do you want me to?"
Nick feels himself blush and bites his lower lip, but after a second's hesitation, he nods.
Joe coaxes Nick to come settle over top of Joe, on his hands and knees. Joe pushes at the top of his boxers, sliding them down Nick's hips and over his ass, bunching them around his thighs. Nick almost protests, feeling completely naked, but then Joe palms at his ass, digging his fingertips in, and Nick loses all the air in his lungs in one big rush, his head dropping down to Joe's shoulder. He feels Joe kiss at his hair, skim his fingertips down the cut of his hipbone, wrap them around his dick, and suddenly Nick feels a lot younger than seventeen, a lot more vulnerable than he normally allows himself to be. He groans a little, helplessly, and buries his face in against Joe's neck.
"Shh, Nicky," Joe whispers, trailing his other hand down Nick's spine. "It's okay. Let me, okay?"
Nick nods shortly. Joe's hand tightens and it's a little hesitant at first, Joe figuring out exactly how to do this backwards, and then he presses his thumb just under the head and Nick's hips jerk and it's so much better than doing it himself. He kind of can't believe how much better. Joe has no idea what Nick likes, it should be terrible or at least mediocre, but it's not, because Joe is so careful and he's got his hand on Nick's ass again and he's murmuring against Nick's ear. "God, Nick...just want to take care of you, you know? Want to make you feel good, don't want you to worry about anything. You worry all the time, always so on top of everything, you need to just...let go, sometimes."
Nick hums into Joe's neck, opening his mouth and panting against the warm skin smelling of his brother. He turns his face, thinking maybe he's going to tell Joe "Okay" or possibly "Shut up," but his mouth catches on the corner of Joe's and all he can do is kiss him there, words all cramming together in his head. Joe shifts and their lips fit together better, soft and almost shy, like this is the part to be scared of.
Joe's hand twists on Nick's cock, startling a gasp from him, and then Joe's tongue is in his mouth, oh god, no warning, just Joe suddenly filling him up, his free hand coming up to tangle in Nick's hair and hold him still so Joe can kiss him senseless. Nick doesn't even realize he's started to fuck into Joe's fist until Joe tightens his hand on him and Nick's knees almost give out. Joe catches him, holds him up, catches Nick's lower lip between his teeth and sucks, thumb swiping over the head of Nick's cock, wet and blood-hot.
Nick is close, blindingly close, his hips chasing after it, but then he feels the lightest, most hesitant touch on his shoulder, a cool hand and warm, chapped lips, dotting kisses up his shoulderblade, neck, jaw, to the corner of his mouth. Nick realizes it's Nicky, wisps of his curly hair tickling Nick's face, his hot little tongue darting out to lick into Nick's mouth the second Joe pulls away.
Nick comes like that, kissing his little twin and shooting off all over his big brother, striping Joe's bare stomach. Nick's arms and legs are trembling under him and finally Joe wraps his arms around Nick and pulls him down, settling him between Joe and Nicky on the bed. Nicky slides his arms around from Nick's other side and Nick lays there gulping air, shivering and wondering what it means that he's just come harder than he ever has in his life.
It's a moment before Nick realizes that Joe is hard, pressed against Nick's hip. Nick makes an interrogative sound in his throat, all he can manage right now, and turns to bump at Joe's neck with his nose, tapping at Joe's hip. Joe shakes his head, Nick feels it more than sees it, and kisses the top of Nick's head.
"Go to sleep for now, Nicky. Just rest."
***
Nick wakes again several hours later, and his boxers are missing - totally okay, considering they were wet when he fell asleep and they'd be pretty intolerable by now - and he's been draped in the comforter. He pokes his head from the cocoon of blankets, his hair all haphazard and in his eyes, and sees Joe sitting a few inches away, propped up against the headboard, Nicky sitting back against him, cradled in the V of Joe's legs. Joe's near leg is bent up, so Nick can't see Joe jerking Nicky off, but the way Joe's arm is moving can't be misinterpreted. Nicky's head is thrown back against Joe's shoulder, mouth open and wet-looking in the half light, his blunt fingers clutching at Joe's thighs in a bruising grip. Nick can only watch dumbly for several long seconds, watch the way Joe is rocking his hips kind of desperately up against the small of Nicky's back, trying to get relief somehow, before he peels down the comforter and crawls out of it, moving in between Joe's spread legs. Nicky startles, looking down at Nick; he is gone, eyes nearly completely black and glazed over. Joe's hand is so wet with the kid's precome, all slippery where he's just sliding the swollen head of that little dick up and down through his big fist. He must have been working on Nicky for ages.
"Here," Nick says, reaching out and pulling Nicky toward him by the shoulders. He whines when Joe's hand slips off of him, but Nick coaxes him, limbs ragdoll-heavy, into turning around and straddling Joe's lap instead. Joe gasps, his body hitching up against Nicky's as their dicks fit together, and he curls his hands over Little Nick's bony hips, pulling him in and rutting against him one more time, groaning.
"Joe," Nick and Nicky both murmur, Nicky's head sinking onto Joe's shoulder, where he latches his mouth onto Joe's neck and starts sucking instinctively like a baby. Joe shudders deep.
Nick works his hand into the hot, damp space between them and wraps his hand around them both, working them kind of awkwardly, but with determination. They're both pretty slick, and Nick's hand moves in slow, long pulls, like he's wringing it out of them. Nicky is making these broken, pained noises, his hips moving erratically, and he comes suddenly, trembling uncontrollably, while Joe holds him, hands roving from his hips to the frizzy hair clinging damp to the back of his sweat-shiny neck.
Joe knuckles Nick's sharp little chin up to kiss his swollen mouth, lax and barely responsive, Nicky still too dazed. Nick licks his lips as he watches them, hand faltering on Joe for a few seconds before he remembers himself. He's crowded in close against them without even meaning to, and he rests his chin on Joe's shoulder as he rubs his fingertip against the slit of Joe's heavy, thick cock, smearing around the fluid and making Joe flinch from overstimulation. "You take good care of me, Joe," Nick whispers, sucking Joe's earlobe. "Lemme do it for you, too."
Joe's fingers tighten in Nicky's soft angel-curls and his big, dark eyes slit open to catch Nick's before Nick's attention drifts down to watch Joe come, hot and slick on Nick's fingers and wrist and arm.
Pairing: Joe/Nick/bb!Nick
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Delicious jailbait (bb!Nick is 14)
Summary: novaberry requested now!Joe/now!Nick/bb!Nick. Specifically, I want THIS NICK to SOMEHOW be the catalyst for first-time!SEXY action:
Click for bigger.
The main thing is that Nick had forgotten what a hopeless dweeb he'd been.
Well, not forgotten. Forcibly blocked from his memory, really. Sure, it's the perennial stereotype: everybody hates their middle school selves, their awful haircuts, their questionable fashion decisions. But Nick uncharitably grumbles that most people don't have to actually meet their 14-year-old repressed selves in the flesh.
Joe just laughs at this. Laughs. Nick is so totally firing him.
"Shut up, Nick, you were the COOLEST at that age!" he says, reaching out to ruffle Big Nick's curls. When Nick ducks away and shoots him a look like maybe he's lucky to still have that hand, Joe just shrugs and ruffles Nicky's hair instead, so much longer, a frizzy disaster from the days before Nick learned how to use taming gel.
Little Nick lets him, but he doesn't look too happy about it. "I'm right here, you know," he says, his voice already mostly over the horrible cracking, but still not as deep as it would be by seventeen. "You can tell me I'm cool to my face, if you think that." Like Joe had insulted him. Like being cool is a bad thing, something to be avoided. Nick wants to bang his head into a wall. When Nicky'd first got here - bursting out of the bathroom into Nick and Joe's hotel room right before their alarms went off this morning - he'd been more than half convinced they were not his older self and an older version of his big brother, but rather two impostors who dressed weird and possibly did drugs. It seems like they haven't quite managed to shake that impression completely.
Joe just finds Nicky's oxymoronic combination of uptight and spontaneously silly to be endearing, however, and he smiles indulgently at the kid now. "Sorry, Nick, it's just weird, you know? Having two of you. Totally the coolest thing ever, though!" he adds quickly, and the thing is, he absolutely means it. Nick can tell. This isn't just some ploy to make Nicky feel better, more welcome in a time where he most definitely does not belong; Joe is genuinely completely stoked to have two of Nick to look after. Not, Nick reminds himself firmly, that Joe has really had to do much "looking after" him for at least a couple of years now. Or that Little Nick is actually so little he can't do the majority of looking after himself. But all day, Joe has been solicitous, making sure Nicky checks his sugar at the same times Nick does, helping him to pick out the right things to eat at the right times, with the calm excuse that this Nick, this young, skinny, fragile-looking Nick, is still learning how to deal with a disease that grown-up Nick has mastered. It's a flimsy excuse, but it seems to really please Joe, puts a smile on his face whenever Nicky smiles and thanks him for the help.
The kid seems to relax at that, taking comfort in Joe's willingness to be nice to him. Nick feels a momentary twinge of guilt; he's not been exactly friendly to the kid so far, never mean but just...he has to keep some distance, here. Joe might be ready to adopt Little Nick, but Big Nick's got to be the adult in this situation. Kind of...like every situation ever.
"We need to try to figure out how to get him home," Nick says firmly, crossing his arms. Joe rolls his eyes; Nicky frowns and sidles almost imperceptibly closer to Joe.
"Nick, he popped into existence in our bathtub, dude," Joe says, as if Nick's forgotten somehow. "It's not like we can give him train fare and a cookie and send him home."
"Yeah, and I can't have cookies," Nicky pipes up smugly, smirking. Nick stares at him. Joe gestures at the kid like, "See? My point exactly," and seriously, there is not enough Tylenol in the WORLD for the headache blooming behind Nick's eyes.
"Look," Joe says in a low tone, moving in close to Nick and bending his head to murmur where Nicky can't hear. "We don't know how he got here and at the moment we don't know how to send him back. Maybe a theory'll come to us as we go along, but for now, lay off the kid, alright? It's not his fault he's here."
"I know that, Joe, but it's not like--"
"It's not like it's gonna kill us to look after him for a couple of days."
"What if it isn't just a couple of days, Joe? Think about it."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Joe says breezily, stepping back and turning to grin down at Nicky - and, wow, Nick remembers being shorter than Joe, but it's been a while, and it's surreal to see how much older and bigger Joe looks than this Nick. "Now. Who wants to go down at MarioKart?"
"You do," both Nicks say simultaneously, and then eye each other with a little smile on both their faces that apparently means a truce for now.
***
Nicky is insanely good at MarioKart, apparently still playing it on a regular basis whereas both Big Nick and Joe have fallen out of practice. He is picky about his socks (he'll only wear the kind with a grey toe, and Nick does remember that particular obsession, sadly) and stolidly refuses to eat brussels sprouts no matter how many ways Joe tries to convince him they're not really sprouts so much as little evil baby lettuces. Actually he doesn't much like veggies at all, but he eats them because Nick tells him that they're the only way he'll ever get tall and built as fast as he's supposed to. Nick only feels a little guilty leaving out the fact that he still never eats brussels sprouts or lima beans if he can possibly avoid them.
Nicky seems to have come to a grudging respect of Big Nick primarily because he grew up tall and strong, bigger than Joe, even, which seemed to kind of blow his mind at first. Now he just pesters Nick about his exercise routine, how much he can benchpress, how many pull-ups he can do. Nick catches him once trying to measure his own flexed bicep with his hand, one eye squinted up to size it up against Nick's.
It makes Nick blush when Nicky matter-of-factly tells him that, "I grow up to be pretty sexy," but Joe loves it. "Dang straight, you do," he says, grinning at Nick like the cat that got the canary, then putting his hands on his hips to look Nicky up and down. "Though you're pretty sexy already, I think."
Now both Nicks are blushing, Big Nick hissing, "Joe!" in an attempt to get him to stop flirting with his 14-year-old alternate-reality little brother, jeez. Joe's autonomic flirt response, kind of like a normal person's knee-jerk reaction, gets him in trouble constantly, and although Nick feels safely immune to it, he remembers being 14 and inclined to worship Joe without any encouragement. And Joe hadn't been nearly the accomplished flirter at seventeen that he was at twenty; Nick doesn't want him overwhelming the kid. Possibly he is starting to feel a little protective of Nicky, too. Totally against his will.
Nicky just laughs, though, bright and uninhibited, the sound kind of startling both Joe and Big Nick. He puts his hands on his own skinny hips and drags his eyes up and down Joe, and something about it is somehow less a joke than what Joe had done. "Not as sexy as you," he says, and it's almost, just a hair's breadth from bashful when he says it, his cheeks pinker than normal.
Joe doesn't look at Nick, but Nick can see the way his face lights up, creasing into a smile so open it makes Nick feel weirdly twisted up, some feeling between nostalgia and jealousy pulling at his stomach. Joe says, "Why, thank you, young Nicholas!" as he bows with a grand gesture, then reaches out and hauls Nicky in, flopping him over his shoulder and then straightening up. Nicky is way too big for a fireman's carry but neither he nor Joe seem to notice or care, Nicky laughing breathlessly and Joe talking too-loudly over Nicky's giggling that, really, he doesn't weigh anything, he's as light as a feather! Little Nick's face is all red from being held partially upside-down, his mouth open and gasping for air against Joe's shoulder, and Nick gets up and grabs a keycard off the dresser and leaves the hotel room, ignoring Joe calling after him. He knows he's no fun to be around, anymore, too old for manhandling and wrestling and laughing like he has nothing to lose. He doesn't need the reminder.
***
Nick comes back late, too late, really, past his curfew by almost fifteen minutes. He hadn't gone out of the hotel, all unwilling to deal with the security measures and the sneaking. He'd just wandered around the enormous atrium, poking into the tiny gift shop and only buying a bag of potato chips, walking in circles around the fountain until the concierge gave him a dirty look. Nick just isn't good with wasting restless energy. If he'd thought it through, he'd have grabbed his gym shorts and gone to work out, burning off this restlessness that's been humming under his skin since Nicky showed up. Now he supposes he's got nothing better to do than go back to his room and hope Joe doesn't decide to give him the third degree. He doesn't feel up to being honest right now, with himself or Joe.
Luckily, when he gets back, Joe and Nicky are in the midst of getting ready for bed, Joe taking out his contacts and Nicky brushing his teeth with the extra toothbrush they got from the front desk. Actually, what they're really doing is having a foot-fight, kicking at each other and trying to push in front by levering each other out of the way with their hips, both of them snorting little bursts of laughter as they try to remain straight-faced. Nick stands in the doorway to the bathroom for a few seconds, watching them, not really believing he was ever that young and crazy. Then he comes into the bathroom while they're both distracted bumping into each other, wedges his hands in between their pressed-together arms, and shoves them both roughly to either side, squishing them both into the wall so he can lean in close to the mirror and pretend to fix his hair, smirking. Then he turns and walks back out, totally casual. He hears Nicky spit out his mouthful of suds into the sink and can almost feel them staring at him like he's crazy.
Then, without warning, Nick is tackled solidly from behind and knocked facefirst onto the nearest bed (Joe's, with his rejected options for this morning's outfit still strewn out all over it). Joe flops down next to him, instantly scrambling up to get Nick into a headlock, and Nicky is clinging right to Nick's back like an overgrown monkey, knees tucked tight against Nick's hips to hang on while his hands skid down Nick's ribs until he finds the tickle spot he's going for. Nick gasps and tries to squirm away, laughing and telling them both to cut it out. Joe merely hollers encouragement to Nicky and digs a noogie into Nick's scalp, and they don't let up until Nick's laughing so hard he can't actually breathe.
They lie there on their backs, sprawled elbow-to-elbow on Joe's big bed, for a long time catching their breath, Nick in between his big brother and his little self. When Nicky speaks, his quiet voice is startling in the silence. "I miss my time."
Nick finds himself reaching out and taking Nicky's hand. "I would too," he says. "You'll get back there. I'm sure you will."
"Thanks," Nicky replies, voice even smaller. Joe props himself up on his elbow to look at him over Nick, concern creasing his brow. "For, y'know," the kid continues. "Everything. Taking care of me."
Joe beams, looking like his day is absolutely made. He flops across Nick, knocking the wind out of him in an "oof!" sound, to throw his arms around Nicky and give him a big hug. "You're not hard to take care of," he says, muffled into Nicky's bony shoulder. "You don't eat much or take up a lot of space. We could probably fit you into one of our suitcases, whaddayou think, Nick?"
Nick raises his eyebrows. "Oh, definitely. Just throw him in your big bag with some snacks like in Ocean's Twelve, right?"
"That's what I'm saying!" Joe enthuses over Nick's giggles and squirms. Joe waves an arm demonstratively. "Mom'd let us keep him, right?"
"I'm pretty sure mom wouldn't toss me out," Nick says, but he's actually not exactly sure. If it were an extra Frankie or Kevin, no question she'd keep him, but he's pretty sure nobody but Joe would be okay with an extra Nick.
Nicky finally wriggles out of Joe's hold and props his chin on Nick's stomach, peering up at him thoughtfully. "Will you toss me out?" he asks. Nick's jaw drops.
"What? No, of course not!"
Nicky is tracing absent little circles on Nick's side, making him flinch ticklishly. "But you don't like me very much," he says, prodding. Joe makes a sound somewhere between hurt and offended, and Nick slides a hand over the back of Nicky's neck and into his soft fluff of curls.
"It isn't that," Nick says quietly, fingers scratching gently. Nicky's eyes slip half shut. "It just scares me, I guess. I've changed a lot about me since I was your age. I worry that...maybe all the changes aren't good ones."
Joe's hand creeps onto Nick's hip, squeezes reassuringly. Nicky blinks his eyes back open again and gives Nick an assessing look. "You seem okay," he says finally, tone making it more a statement of absolute truth than it strictly should sound. "You seem to be doing okay. And Joe still takes care of you. Me. Us, I mean."
Grinning, Nick presses his shoulder a little more firmly into Joe on his left. "Yeah. We're not doing too bad."
***
They split up the beds, Joe and Nicky in one, Nick keeping his own for himself. Joe volunteered to share, claiming to be less of a blanket hog than Nick, which is patently untrue. Nick doesn't know what wakes him up, but it's just after one in the morning when he opens his eyes on the thick orange-darkness of nighttime cut with the filtered secondhand light of streetlamps through the curtains. At first he just blinks fuzzily at the red LCD display of the clock on the nightstand, trying to orient himself, and then he hears the rustle of sheets across the room and a small, dark murmur.
Nick wonders what's going on even as a part of him already knows, somewhere deep like a tight spot at the base of his spine. The tiny little whimper that comes a few seconds later is somehow no surprise, but he gasps anyway, and the rustling stops dead.
It's clear Joe isn't going to risk anything by asking Nick if he's awake, so Nick saves him the trouble. "Joe," he says, voice rough and creaky with sleep. "What are you doing?"
"Nick," is all Joe says, and his voice is awake, alert.
Nick swallows. "Nicky?"
There's a beat of silence, and then Nick's voice, trembling but kind of steely underneath, "I asked him to."
After another tense second, Nick pushes back his blankets and swings his legs over the side of the bed, shuffling across the three-feet space to Joe's. Joe is looking up at him, his eyes just spots of glitter in the dark.
"I. I wanted to help him," he says, but he's still looking at Nick like he's waiting for permission. "I just...he needed..."
One of them shifts under the covers, and Nicky lets out another little whine, high in his throat. It makes Nick swallow again, throat gone dry.
"Here," Joe says, because it's pretty clear Nick has no idea what to say, "Come here. Lay down." He shifts over, nudging Nicky to make some extra room, and holds up the covers for Nick to crawl in next to Joe. Nick does, unquestioning, something in Joe's voice letting him know he doesn't need to worry about it.
Nick settles in, propped up on his elbow with his hand settled lightly at Joe's waist. Joe's just in his boxers, though Nick remembers clearly that he had on a t-shirt, too, when they turned out the lights. Nick rests his chin on Joe's shoulder and Joe pushes down the sheets so Nick can see. It's still dark, everything just picked out in outlines and impressions, but Nick can see well enough that Nicky's shorts are pulled down and his shirt hiked up, the tiny swell of his belly rising and falling rapidly as he breathes too quick. Joe's hand is wrapped around his stiff little dick, the wet head of it all Nick can make out above the cradle of Joe's thumb. Nick flits his eyes to Nicky's, huge and dark and fixed on him, and he gives the kid a smile.
"Let Joe help," he says softly. "It's okay. I'll...I'll watch."
Nicky's eyes fall shut and his hips jerk a little. Joe smiles and starts moving his hand on him again, slow and careful and measured. Nick's fingers tighten on Joe's hip and Joe hums, leaning his head back against Nick's shoulder. His stubbled jaw scrapes lightly against Nick's cheek, startling, and Nick turns his head enough to kiss Joe on the cheek.
"He..." Joe starts, voice cracking a little. He swallows, tries again. "He was asleep, he was, like...rubbing on me in his sleep," he whispers, and Nicky shudders and makes a desperate little sound. "He was so hard, Nick, I couldn't...couldn't let him stay like that."
"No," Nick says, and it probably shouldn't be agreement, but it is. "He'd never have been able to sleep."
"Right," Joe replies, and Nick can feel some of the tension bleed out of him, his body resting a little more against Nick's. "You used to get this way, I remember. And you had to ignore it because I was laying right next to you, and Kevin in the next bed over, but..." Joe turns his head a little more, towards Nick's, his lips dragging against Nick's cheek. "You could've done this. You could've jerked off, I wouldn't have minded. I'd have helped you, too."
Nick's hips jolt forward a tiny bit of their own accord, pressing against the curve of Joe's ass, and Nicky comes simultaneously, his head thrown back and his body winding up tight, wetness spilling over Joe's hand. Joe sucks in a harsh gasp, working Nicky through it slow and gentle, so careful with him it makes Nick's heart ache. When Nicky finally settles back to the mattress, kind of melting down into a loose-limbed sprawl, Joe carefully plucks up something from the foot of the bed - his t-shirt, Nick realizes - and wipes off himself and Nicky, who watches him with slitted, sleepy-looking eyes. Nick reaches out and pushes Nicky's damp flyaway curls from his forehead, the kid nuzzling lightly against Nick's hand.
Suddenly Joe shifts, wiggling against Nick a little, and Nick makes a choked noise when Joe curves right back against his dick, gone hard in his boxers. Joe's watching him, wide-eyed, waiting. Nick puts his hand back on Joe's hip and holds him steady while he rocks forward once, tentatively, his cock sliding up against fabric and the muscle of Joe's ass. Joe's eyelids flicker and he reaches back, grabbing a fistful of Nick's shorts.
"Nick," he whispers, breath ghosting over Nick's cheek. "Can I? Do you want me to?"
Nick feels himself blush and bites his lower lip, but after a second's hesitation, he nods.
Joe coaxes Nick to come settle over top of Joe, on his hands and knees. Joe pushes at the top of his boxers, sliding them down Nick's hips and over his ass, bunching them around his thighs. Nick almost protests, feeling completely naked, but then Joe palms at his ass, digging his fingertips in, and Nick loses all the air in his lungs in one big rush, his head dropping down to Joe's shoulder. He feels Joe kiss at his hair, skim his fingertips down the cut of his hipbone, wrap them around his dick, and suddenly Nick feels a lot younger than seventeen, a lot more vulnerable than he normally allows himself to be. He groans a little, helplessly, and buries his face in against Joe's neck.
"Shh, Nicky," Joe whispers, trailing his other hand down Nick's spine. "It's okay. Let me, okay?"
Nick nods shortly. Joe's hand tightens and it's a little hesitant at first, Joe figuring out exactly how to do this backwards, and then he presses his thumb just under the head and Nick's hips jerk and it's so much better than doing it himself. He kind of can't believe how much better. Joe has no idea what Nick likes, it should be terrible or at least mediocre, but it's not, because Joe is so careful and he's got his hand on Nick's ass again and he's murmuring against Nick's ear. "God, Nick...just want to take care of you, you know? Want to make you feel good, don't want you to worry about anything. You worry all the time, always so on top of everything, you need to just...let go, sometimes."
Nick hums into Joe's neck, opening his mouth and panting against the warm skin smelling of his brother. He turns his face, thinking maybe he's going to tell Joe "Okay" or possibly "Shut up," but his mouth catches on the corner of Joe's and all he can do is kiss him there, words all cramming together in his head. Joe shifts and their lips fit together better, soft and almost shy, like this is the part to be scared of.
Joe's hand twists on Nick's cock, startling a gasp from him, and then Joe's tongue is in his mouth, oh god, no warning, just Joe suddenly filling him up, his free hand coming up to tangle in Nick's hair and hold him still so Joe can kiss him senseless. Nick doesn't even realize he's started to fuck into Joe's fist until Joe tightens his hand on him and Nick's knees almost give out. Joe catches him, holds him up, catches Nick's lower lip between his teeth and sucks, thumb swiping over the head of Nick's cock, wet and blood-hot.
Nick is close, blindingly close, his hips chasing after it, but then he feels the lightest, most hesitant touch on his shoulder, a cool hand and warm, chapped lips, dotting kisses up his shoulderblade, neck, jaw, to the corner of his mouth. Nick realizes it's Nicky, wisps of his curly hair tickling Nick's face, his hot little tongue darting out to lick into Nick's mouth the second Joe pulls away.
Nick comes like that, kissing his little twin and shooting off all over his big brother, striping Joe's bare stomach. Nick's arms and legs are trembling under him and finally Joe wraps his arms around Nick and pulls him down, settling him between Joe and Nicky on the bed. Nicky slides his arms around from Nick's other side and Nick lays there gulping air, shivering and wondering what it means that he's just come harder than he ever has in his life.
It's a moment before Nick realizes that Joe is hard, pressed against Nick's hip. Nick makes an interrogative sound in his throat, all he can manage right now, and turns to bump at Joe's neck with his nose, tapping at Joe's hip. Joe shakes his head, Nick feels it more than sees it, and kisses the top of Nick's head.
"Go to sleep for now, Nicky. Just rest."
***
Nick wakes again several hours later, and his boxers are missing - totally okay, considering they were wet when he fell asleep and they'd be pretty intolerable by now - and he's been draped in the comforter. He pokes his head from the cocoon of blankets, his hair all haphazard and in his eyes, and sees Joe sitting a few inches away, propped up against the headboard, Nicky sitting back against him, cradled in the V of Joe's legs. Joe's near leg is bent up, so Nick can't see Joe jerking Nicky off, but the way Joe's arm is moving can't be misinterpreted. Nicky's head is thrown back against Joe's shoulder, mouth open and wet-looking in the half light, his blunt fingers clutching at Joe's thighs in a bruising grip. Nick can only watch dumbly for several long seconds, watch the way Joe is rocking his hips kind of desperately up against the small of Nicky's back, trying to get relief somehow, before he peels down the comforter and crawls out of it, moving in between Joe's spread legs. Nicky startles, looking down at Nick; he is gone, eyes nearly completely black and glazed over. Joe's hand is so wet with the kid's precome, all slippery where he's just sliding the swollen head of that little dick up and down through his big fist. He must have been working on Nicky for ages.
"Here," Nick says, reaching out and pulling Nicky toward him by the shoulders. He whines when Joe's hand slips off of him, but Nick coaxes him, limbs ragdoll-heavy, into turning around and straddling Joe's lap instead. Joe gasps, his body hitching up against Nicky's as their dicks fit together, and he curls his hands over Little Nick's bony hips, pulling him in and rutting against him one more time, groaning.
"Joe," Nick and Nicky both murmur, Nicky's head sinking onto Joe's shoulder, where he latches his mouth onto Joe's neck and starts sucking instinctively like a baby. Joe shudders deep.
Nick works his hand into the hot, damp space between them and wraps his hand around them both, working them kind of awkwardly, but with determination. They're both pretty slick, and Nick's hand moves in slow, long pulls, like he's wringing it out of them. Nicky is making these broken, pained noises, his hips moving erratically, and he comes suddenly, trembling uncontrollably, while Joe holds him, hands roving from his hips to the frizzy hair clinging damp to the back of his sweat-shiny neck.
Joe knuckles Nick's sharp little chin up to kiss his swollen mouth, lax and barely responsive, Nicky still too dazed. Nick licks his lips as he watches them, hand faltering on Joe for a few seconds before he remembers himself. He's crowded in close against them without even meaning to, and he rests his chin on Joe's shoulder as he rubs his fingertip against the slit of Joe's heavy, thick cock, smearing around the fluid and making Joe flinch from overstimulation. "You take good care of me, Joe," Nick whispers, sucking Joe's earlobe. "Lemme do it for you, too."
Joe's fingers tighten in Nicky's soft angel-curls and his big, dark eyes slit open to catch Nick's before Nick's attention drifts down to watch Joe come, hot and slick on Nick's fingers and wrist and arm.