fic : Looking At Your Damn Shoes
Title: Looking At Your Damn Shoes
Pairing: AJ/Nick
Summary: Nick realizes the one he views as perfection actually prefers imperfection
Dedication: to inahurricane because, quote, "There is not enough AJ/Nick in the world!"
Warnings: Language, unfulfilled masturbation
Word Count: 2,563 Dude
I started this in a notebook this morning while waiting for the bus with my son. I was thinking it would be just a few paragraphs, no more than 1000 words at most. I came back into the house and sat down to type up what I had written, thinking I'd post it and then crawl back into bed for another hour or two. But, no, these two characters had to just drag the story out and make it impossible for me to go back to sleep, and here I am posting this more than three hours after originally starting.. What I had thought would be simply a tiny ficlet has turned instead to this, and, well, let's just say I'll be writing more of these two in the future. ...damn them...
AJ was, simply, perfect. When his lips parted to speak lines from a Shakespearean play, or to sing a verse from a new song, his voice immediately took hold of the proper pitch, bringing forth the proper emotion. When he sat before a piano, sheet music ready, his fingers would begin with a spine-tingling glissando before launching into the piece with no mistakes. When shown a new dance move, he was able to do it within moments, more often than not better than the choreographer. The first time he had made dinner for the other guys, after moving into his own place, they had arrived to find him lighting candles on the table, and he had served a homemade lasagne that would have made an Italian cry tears of joy.
Nick readily admitted to the fact he had searched the kitchen for any sign of an outside food source, but all he had found was a sink full of dishes, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, and, on the refrigerator, a sauce-stained recipe for homemade lasagne, written in AJ's scrawl. He had even called Denise the next day, graciously listening to her words of advice before asking if she had helped AJ fix dinner, hoping she would let some sort of secret slide. Instead, she had informed him that she had been out of town until the middle of the night, so how could she have helped him?
Nick sure as hell didn't know. But he was certain that AJ couldn't have pulled off the entire meal with no outside help. This was the man who had caused the alarm that brought the entire fire department of Cologne, Germany to their hotel, simply because he had tried to make toast with an iron. After buying his new house and dragging Nick and Howie along on a shopping spree to fill his house with necessities, AJ had told them he didn't know how to do anything in the kitchen except make coffee and have sex.
Nick had, naturally, asked for tips on how to accomplish sex in the kitchen. Because, what if you forgot to move a knife off the counter and you ended up slicing off something important? Or, worse, what if you had water on the stove boiling for whatever reason and, in the heat of the moment, knocked it over onto your partner?
AJ had simply laughed at him, told him he would figure all that out on his own, and pulled them into a shop to buy bed linens.
Nick still hadn't had sex in a kitchen.
---
He was blatantly aware of his own shortcomings. He could sing, yes, but he always felt his voice was nothing like what it had once been. He could dance, as long as he had several hours of rehearsal, doubled with one-on-one coaching from the choreographer. He had learned how to play the piano, the drums, and the guitar, but it usually took several drinks before he was comfortable enough with his talent to actually play. When it came to women, he was perhaps the most bumbling man on the planet. And he would rather forget his few attempts at cooking, even if the scorched wall behind his stove reminded him daily.
He prided himself that he was a good friend, that whenever someone needed him or something he could provide he was quick to respond. Be it a companionable silence and a beer after a breakup, or a few cans of chicken noodle soup during a cold, he tried his best to make his friends and loved ones comfortable. Of course, if they were sick and requested soup, he usually banged on the door and left the bag of cans on the steps, because how could he take care of them if he got sick, too?
He noticed, though, that AJ never called him for a beer or soup. When he did call, it was to remind him about something Kevin had just finished telling him about, or to say that he'd be swinging that way if he needed a ride.
Nick always accepted the rides with AJ. There was something comfortable about AJ's car. It wasn't cleaner than it had been in the showroom, like Howie's. There wasn't a backseat full of kids' toys and a baby seat, like Brian's. He wasn't expected to suffer through some wailing song by Dolly Parton, like he always did when riding with Kevin. Instead, there was usually some hard rock, and the ashtray always rattled with loose change. Whenever he went to get in, he had to wait for AJ to clear out the passenger seat, tossing napkins into the glove box, tucking cigarettes, lighter and a Starbucks cup between his thighs as his raspy voice cursed the mess of his car.
Nick found himself looking forward to riding with AJ.
---
They were heading for the studio to meet Howie and Brian. Howie had called them all at three in the morning, using some sort of new conference-call gadget he had bought. He hadn't meant to actually wake them, he was merely trying out the new system, but, since he had them all, could they meet him at the studio so they could go over the vocals on one of the new songs? AJ had mumbled something about blocking calls from Howie before hanging up, Brian had been too busy apologizing to Leighanne to say anything but sure, and Nick was too sleepy and confused to offer a coherent answer. So it had been a surprise when AJ's horn had roused him from a deep sleep four hours later, even more of a surprise when AJ himself had come into his house, upstairs and into his bedroom, to force him out of bed.
Amid the clean clothes that were being thrown his way, Nick smiled.
He was holding onto AJ's cigarettes and lighter, and between his knees was the precious Starbucks cup that AJ had handed over to him when he'd gotten in. He had smiled again, because usually AJ forgot to get him coffee, unless he happened to call while he was in line to get his own and Nick requested some. His hair was a mess, he knew, because AJ hadn't given him time to shower, and when he reached to scratch his chin he realized it was past time to shave. He mumbled something about doing so, and to his surprise AJ hit the brakes.
As he fumbled to keep his coffee from spilling, he heard AJ mutter, "I like your fuzz."
"Huh?" Nick secured his hold on the coffee before looking to the other man.
"What?" AJ's face was pure innocence.
"You like my fuzz?"
"Well, yeah..."
Nick couldn't help his grin. "Yeah? What if I shave?"
"Then, fucking-duh, I'll be mad."
Nick's grin widened. "I wasn't aware that your state of happiness relied on my facial hair--"
"Oh, cut the fucking crap. Shave, don't shave, see if I care!"
"But, I don't want you to be mad," Nick admitted, not liking the way his heart hammered at the thought of upsetting AJ. "Do you think I should leave it like this?"
"I think your legions of adoring fans might miss the clean-shaved pretty boy look," AJ muttered. "But, yeah, I like it like that. Makes you look rougher, y'know?"
They were sitting in the studio parking lot now. Nick saw Howie's car, and Brian was going through the door when he glanced at the building. Turning to face AJ, he regarded his friend curiously. "I thought you liked my clean-shaven baby face."
"I do," AJ sighed, taking his cigarettes and lighter. Cracking his window, he lit up, and Nick noticed that he was looking everywhere but the passenger seat. "Look, Nick--"
"God."
"I told you years ago that--"
"My God."
"I can't help that I--"
"You like me?" Nick asked, hating how his voice squeaked. Hating the fact he sounded so damned hopeful.
"Of course I like you. If I didn't like you, I would have told you so years ago. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have come by your place to pick you up all these years--"
"I don't mean like me as a friend, J. I mean, like me like me," Nick interrupted, watching AJ's pursed lips.
"Jesus Christ, Nick," AJ groaned. "Forget I said anything."
Before he could think of words that would make AJ stay and talk to him, he was climbing out, slamming the door with a finality that not only shook the car but also Nick's heart.
---
After listening to the vocals they had recorded the day before, it was decided they would all go back to Brian's for lunch. Possibly because his house was closest to the studio, but everyone knew it was because Leighanne was a good cook. When AJ left without a word, Nick glanced towards Brian.
"Alright if I ride with you?"
"Sure. I thought you rode up with AJ--"
"He, uh..."
Blessedly, Howie interrupted with a copy of a press release for them to read, and Nick was able to slip outside without explaining to Brian why he couldn't ride with AJ. He couldn't very well tell his best friend that AJ had admitted to liking him, nor could he tell how he had undoubtedly fucked up what potentially could have been a good relationship. Especially when he considered that Brian knew about his secret crush for AJ. Brian knew things like that and didn't care. He would just smile and wish Nick good luck then go about his business. Which was why Nick confided such things without worry.
"Are you going to stand there looking at your damn shoes all fucking day, or are you getting into the car?"
Jolted, Nick looked up to see AJ leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette as though scientists had announced tobacco smoke led to immortality. Fumbling for something to say, he watched moist lips clench the filter, saw the muscles of AJ's cheek suck inward as the tip of the cigarette flared. He was certain his heart stopped when AJ's eyes met his, and the very tip of AJ's tongue dashed across his lips. Realizing he was waiting for an answer, Nick shrugged, his feet somehow propelled him towards the car, though he didn't go the passenger side. Instead, he moved to stand in front of AJ, mind still struggling to come up with words. Even 'yeah' would have worked, but for some reason his mouth refused to cooperate.
AJ sighed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Look, Carter, just get in the car, okay?"
Miraculously, Nick's brain formed words, and his mouth opened to speak them. "I like you, too."
---
AJ's phone was ringing. Nick's cell had started ringing an hour before, but he had popped out the battery when he saw it was Brian. Sitting at AJ's table, he watched as AJ tossed salad ingredients together in a bowl. He had offered to help, but after mangling a sharp knife in the garbage disposal, AJ had asked him to just sit down, he'd take care of everything. AJ didn't seem perturbed by the ringing phone, so Nick tried to keep his mind off the number of rings. It was obvious that Brian knew where they were, otherwise he would have hung up forty-five rings ago. Nick wondered if the man had installed some sort of homing device on AJ's car.
The ringing stopped.
"Think you can fix us some drinks without wrecking my ice maker?" AJ asked softly, donning an oven mitt so he could check on the chicken casserole.
"Yeah, I can fix drinks." Scraping his chair back, Nick felt his stomach churn hungrily when the aroma of the casserole reached him. He had been surprised when AJ asked him to come back to his place for lunch so they could talk, positively shocked when AJ mentioned having a casserole in the freezer. Since coming out of rehab, the man had turned into an amateur chef, and with a wry grin had admitted that when he had a rough night he got out of bed and threw together meals that he could pop into the oven at a later date. It had hurt to think of AJ still having rough days after so many years, but he had decided not to dwell on the subject. At least AJ had an outlet, and Nick was certain the man currently pulling out a bubbling casserole would never backtrack to the beast he had once been.
"There's some tea in the fridge."
Nodding, Nick filled two glasses with ice, carrying them to the table before returning for the pitcher of tea. He shivered when AJ brushed past to place the salad on the table, briefly placing his hand over the place on his arm that AJ's body had touched.
They ate in companionable silence, occasionally murmuring something about how good the chicken was. Nick attempted to focus on his food, but his eyes were drawn, as they always had been, to the sensual way AJ forked food into his mouth. Embarrassed by the way his body reacted, he excused himself as soon as his plate was empty, quickly moving to the bathroom in order to gather his wits.
"Christ," he groaned, leaning against the door. His knees were weak, and he could feel his jeans growing tight against his crotch. He berated himself for behaving like a hormone-driven teenager, even as his hand reached to unbutton his fly. It wasn't as though he hadn't jacked off in AJ's house before. He couldn't remember how many times he had slipped into the downstairs bathroom, hands fumbling and knowing AJ would burst in at any minute, focusing only on the need to come and come fast. Left hand reaching to switch on the ventilation fan, he held his breath when he heard AJ's voice, from the hallway.
"Nick, I need the shower."
"O-okay," Nick answered, bracing his hand against the door in case AJ decided to fling it open.
"Like, now?" AJ said after a moment. "The tub upstairs is messed up, the water won't drain properly. A plumber's coming to look at it tomorrow, so until he fixes it I'm stuck using this bathroom--"
"Gimme a minute," Nick managed to mutter. Wincing as he eased his zipper back up, he shuffled over to flush the toilet. Switching off the fan, he flung the door open, surprised to find AJ standing directly in front of him.
"I'll be out in a few minutes," AJ promised as he slipped past. Nick was certain his eyes roved down to see the bulge in his jeans, and if he'd had the proper blood flow to his brain he would have seen the gleam of appreciation in AJ's dark brown eyes before he was nudged out into the hallway and the door clicked shut.
"Goddamnit," Nick hissed, suddenly regretting that he had accepted AJ's invitation to lunch. He could be comfortably sprawled on Brian's couch, watching Baylee play with his trains while Thomas the Tank Engine droned on the TV, full and sleepy after a big lunch. Instead, he was standing in AJ's hallway with a full-on erection, mind filled with images of the nude man currently getting into the shower.
Just as the water started to run, the phone began ringing again.
Pairing: AJ/Nick
Summary: Nick realizes the one he views as perfection actually prefers imperfection
Dedication: to inahurricane because, quote, "There is not enough AJ/Nick in the world!"
Warnings: Language, unfulfilled masturbation
Word Count: 2,563 Dude
I started this in a notebook this morning while waiting for the bus with my son. I was thinking it would be just a few paragraphs, no more than 1000 words at most. I came back into the house and sat down to type up what I had written, thinking I'd post it and then crawl back into bed for another hour or two. But, no, these two characters had to just drag the story out and make it impossible for me to go back to sleep, and here I am posting this more than three hours after originally starting.. What I had thought would be simply a tiny ficlet has turned instead to this, and, well, let's just say I'll be writing more of these two in the future. ...damn them...
AJ was, simply, perfect. When his lips parted to speak lines from a Shakespearean play, or to sing a verse from a new song, his voice immediately took hold of the proper pitch, bringing forth the proper emotion. When he sat before a piano, sheet music ready, his fingers would begin with a spine-tingling glissando before launching into the piece with no mistakes. When shown a new dance move, he was able to do it within moments, more often than not better than the choreographer. The first time he had made dinner for the other guys, after moving into his own place, they had arrived to find him lighting candles on the table, and he had served a homemade lasagne that would have made an Italian cry tears of joy.
Nick readily admitted to the fact he had searched the kitchen for any sign of an outside food source, but all he had found was a sink full of dishes, an ashtray full of cigarette butts, and, on the refrigerator, a sauce-stained recipe for homemade lasagne, written in AJ's scrawl. He had even called Denise the next day, graciously listening to her words of advice before asking if she had helped AJ fix dinner, hoping she would let some sort of secret slide. Instead, she had informed him that she had been out of town until the middle of the night, so how could she have helped him?
Nick sure as hell didn't know. But he was certain that AJ couldn't have pulled off the entire meal with no outside help. This was the man who had caused the alarm that brought the entire fire department of Cologne, Germany to their hotel, simply because he had tried to make toast with an iron. After buying his new house and dragging Nick and Howie along on a shopping spree to fill his house with necessities, AJ had told them he didn't know how to do anything in the kitchen except make coffee and have sex.
Nick had, naturally, asked for tips on how to accomplish sex in the kitchen. Because, what if you forgot to move a knife off the counter and you ended up slicing off something important? Or, worse, what if you had water on the stove boiling for whatever reason and, in the heat of the moment, knocked it over onto your partner?
AJ had simply laughed at him, told him he would figure all that out on his own, and pulled them into a shop to buy bed linens.
Nick still hadn't had sex in a kitchen.
---
He was blatantly aware of his own shortcomings. He could sing, yes, but he always felt his voice was nothing like what it had once been. He could dance, as long as he had several hours of rehearsal, doubled with one-on-one coaching from the choreographer. He had learned how to play the piano, the drums, and the guitar, but it usually took several drinks before he was comfortable enough with his talent to actually play. When it came to women, he was perhaps the most bumbling man on the planet. And he would rather forget his few attempts at cooking, even if the scorched wall behind his stove reminded him daily.
He prided himself that he was a good friend, that whenever someone needed him or something he could provide he was quick to respond. Be it a companionable silence and a beer after a breakup, or a few cans of chicken noodle soup during a cold, he tried his best to make his friends and loved ones comfortable. Of course, if they were sick and requested soup, he usually banged on the door and left the bag of cans on the steps, because how could he take care of them if he got sick, too?
He noticed, though, that AJ never called him for a beer or soup. When he did call, it was to remind him about something Kevin had just finished telling him about, or to say that he'd be swinging that way if he needed a ride.
Nick always accepted the rides with AJ. There was something comfortable about AJ's car. It wasn't cleaner than it had been in the showroom, like Howie's. There wasn't a backseat full of kids' toys and a baby seat, like Brian's. He wasn't expected to suffer through some wailing song by Dolly Parton, like he always did when riding with Kevin. Instead, there was usually some hard rock, and the ashtray always rattled with loose change. Whenever he went to get in, he had to wait for AJ to clear out the passenger seat, tossing napkins into the glove box, tucking cigarettes, lighter and a Starbucks cup between his thighs as his raspy voice cursed the mess of his car.
Nick found himself looking forward to riding with AJ.
---
They were heading for the studio to meet Howie and Brian. Howie had called them all at three in the morning, using some sort of new conference-call gadget he had bought. He hadn't meant to actually wake them, he was merely trying out the new system, but, since he had them all, could they meet him at the studio so they could go over the vocals on one of the new songs? AJ had mumbled something about blocking calls from Howie before hanging up, Brian had been too busy apologizing to Leighanne to say anything but sure, and Nick was too sleepy and confused to offer a coherent answer. So it had been a surprise when AJ's horn had roused him from a deep sleep four hours later, even more of a surprise when AJ himself had come into his house, upstairs and into his bedroom, to force him out of bed.
Amid the clean clothes that were being thrown his way, Nick smiled.
He was holding onto AJ's cigarettes and lighter, and between his knees was the precious Starbucks cup that AJ had handed over to him when he'd gotten in. He had smiled again, because usually AJ forgot to get him coffee, unless he happened to call while he was in line to get his own and Nick requested some. His hair was a mess, he knew, because AJ hadn't given him time to shower, and when he reached to scratch his chin he realized it was past time to shave. He mumbled something about doing so, and to his surprise AJ hit the brakes.
As he fumbled to keep his coffee from spilling, he heard AJ mutter, "I like your fuzz."
"Huh?" Nick secured his hold on the coffee before looking to the other man.
"What?" AJ's face was pure innocence.
"You like my fuzz?"
"Well, yeah..."
Nick couldn't help his grin. "Yeah? What if I shave?"
"Then, fucking-duh, I'll be mad."
Nick's grin widened. "I wasn't aware that your state of happiness relied on my facial hair--"
"Oh, cut the fucking crap. Shave, don't shave, see if I care!"
"But, I don't want you to be mad," Nick admitted, not liking the way his heart hammered at the thought of upsetting AJ. "Do you think I should leave it like this?"
"I think your legions of adoring fans might miss the clean-shaved pretty boy look," AJ muttered. "But, yeah, I like it like that. Makes you look rougher, y'know?"
They were sitting in the studio parking lot now. Nick saw Howie's car, and Brian was going through the door when he glanced at the building. Turning to face AJ, he regarded his friend curiously. "I thought you liked my clean-shaven baby face."
"I do," AJ sighed, taking his cigarettes and lighter. Cracking his window, he lit up, and Nick noticed that he was looking everywhere but the passenger seat. "Look, Nick--"
"God."
"I told you years ago that--"
"My God."
"I can't help that I--"
"You like me?" Nick asked, hating how his voice squeaked. Hating the fact he sounded so damned hopeful.
"Of course I like you. If I didn't like you, I would have told you so years ago. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have come by your place to pick you up all these years--"
"I don't mean like me as a friend, J. I mean, like me like me," Nick interrupted, watching AJ's pursed lips.
"Jesus Christ, Nick," AJ groaned. "Forget I said anything."
Before he could think of words that would make AJ stay and talk to him, he was climbing out, slamming the door with a finality that not only shook the car but also Nick's heart.
---
After listening to the vocals they had recorded the day before, it was decided they would all go back to Brian's for lunch. Possibly because his house was closest to the studio, but everyone knew it was because Leighanne was a good cook. When AJ left without a word, Nick glanced towards Brian.
"Alright if I ride with you?"
"Sure. I thought you rode up with AJ--"
"He, uh..."
Blessedly, Howie interrupted with a copy of a press release for them to read, and Nick was able to slip outside without explaining to Brian why he couldn't ride with AJ. He couldn't very well tell his best friend that AJ had admitted to liking him, nor could he tell how he had undoubtedly fucked up what potentially could have been a good relationship. Especially when he considered that Brian knew about his secret crush for AJ. Brian knew things like that and didn't care. He would just smile and wish Nick good luck then go about his business. Which was why Nick confided such things without worry.
"Are you going to stand there looking at your damn shoes all fucking day, or are you getting into the car?"
Jolted, Nick looked up to see AJ leaning against his car, smoking a cigarette as though scientists had announced tobacco smoke led to immortality. Fumbling for something to say, he watched moist lips clench the filter, saw the muscles of AJ's cheek suck inward as the tip of the cigarette flared. He was certain his heart stopped when AJ's eyes met his, and the very tip of AJ's tongue dashed across his lips. Realizing he was waiting for an answer, Nick shrugged, his feet somehow propelled him towards the car, though he didn't go the passenger side. Instead, he moved to stand in front of AJ, mind still struggling to come up with words. Even 'yeah' would have worked, but for some reason his mouth refused to cooperate.
AJ sighed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Look, Carter, just get in the car, okay?"
Miraculously, Nick's brain formed words, and his mouth opened to speak them. "I like you, too."
---
AJ's phone was ringing. Nick's cell had started ringing an hour before, but he had popped out the battery when he saw it was Brian. Sitting at AJ's table, he watched as AJ tossed salad ingredients together in a bowl. He had offered to help, but after mangling a sharp knife in the garbage disposal, AJ had asked him to just sit down, he'd take care of everything. AJ didn't seem perturbed by the ringing phone, so Nick tried to keep his mind off the number of rings. It was obvious that Brian knew where they were, otherwise he would have hung up forty-five rings ago. Nick wondered if the man had installed some sort of homing device on AJ's car.
The ringing stopped.
"Think you can fix us some drinks without wrecking my ice maker?" AJ asked softly, donning an oven mitt so he could check on the chicken casserole.
"Yeah, I can fix drinks." Scraping his chair back, Nick felt his stomach churn hungrily when the aroma of the casserole reached him. He had been surprised when AJ asked him to come back to his place for lunch so they could talk, positively shocked when AJ mentioned having a casserole in the freezer. Since coming out of rehab, the man had turned into an amateur chef, and with a wry grin had admitted that when he had a rough night he got out of bed and threw together meals that he could pop into the oven at a later date. It had hurt to think of AJ still having rough days after so many years, but he had decided not to dwell on the subject. At least AJ had an outlet, and Nick was certain the man currently pulling out a bubbling casserole would never backtrack to the beast he had once been.
"There's some tea in the fridge."
Nodding, Nick filled two glasses with ice, carrying them to the table before returning for the pitcher of tea. He shivered when AJ brushed past to place the salad on the table, briefly placing his hand over the place on his arm that AJ's body had touched.
They ate in companionable silence, occasionally murmuring something about how good the chicken was. Nick attempted to focus on his food, but his eyes were drawn, as they always had been, to the sensual way AJ forked food into his mouth. Embarrassed by the way his body reacted, he excused himself as soon as his plate was empty, quickly moving to the bathroom in order to gather his wits.
"Christ," he groaned, leaning against the door. His knees were weak, and he could feel his jeans growing tight against his crotch. He berated himself for behaving like a hormone-driven teenager, even as his hand reached to unbutton his fly. It wasn't as though he hadn't jacked off in AJ's house before. He couldn't remember how many times he had slipped into the downstairs bathroom, hands fumbling and knowing AJ would burst in at any minute, focusing only on the need to come and come fast. Left hand reaching to switch on the ventilation fan, he held his breath when he heard AJ's voice, from the hallway.
"Nick, I need the shower."
"O-okay," Nick answered, bracing his hand against the door in case AJ decided to fling it open.
"Like, now?" AJ said after a moment. "The tub upstairs is messed up, the water won't drain properly. A plumber's coming to look at it tomorrow, so until he fixes it I'm stuck using this bathroom--"
"Gimme a minute," Nick managed to mutter. Wincing as he eased his zipper back up, he shuffled over to flush the toilet. Switching off the fan, he flung the door open, surprised to find AJ standing directly in front of him.
"I'll be out in a few minutes," AJ promised as he slipped past. Nick was certain his eyes roved down to see the bulge in his jeans, and if he'd had the proper blood flow to his brain he would have seen the gleam of appreciation in AJ's dark brown eyes before he was nudged out into the hallway and the door clicked shut.
"Goddamnit," Nick hissed, suddenly regretting that he had accepted AJ's invitation to lunch. He could be comfortably sprawled on Brian's couch, watching Baylee play with his trains while Thomas the Tank Engine droned on the TV, full and sleepy after a big lunch. Instead, he was standing in AJ's hallway with a full-on erection, mind filled with images of the nude man currently getting into the shower.
Just as the water started to run, the phone began ringing again.