Twisted Pretzel Chapter 14: Seventeen and Stupid
Title: Twisted Pretzel
Author: 2he_re (Heather and Reena)
Fandom: Jonas Brothers
Pairing(s): Joe/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and we do not own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. We do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen, or will happen. It is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.
Summary: Mrs. Johnson dislikes the Jonas Brothers. She hates Joe. Why? Doesn’t really matter does it? What matters is that she was playing a game to get rid of him. Death. Horrible death.
“Tristan Darthe” was her pawn. Arrested a year after the incident and tried. His mental state was proven to be unstable, and instead of a jail sentence he was sentenced to an asylum for the rest of his poor, pathetic, lonesome life, where I'm not even allowed to go suicidal.
Call me unstable, call me insane, but oh deary me, I’d loved that game. I mean, money is good and all, but you know, killing is better.
But damn, I’d lost.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 pt. 1 Chapter 21 pt. 2 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26
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There are some things that just remind you of something else. Like a puddle on the ground reminds me of puddles of blood. A phone reminds me of the brain. Normal people are reminded of people by different things. Someone might remember their best friend because they made a promise in some stupid place in elementary school. They might remember how they met their lover, because of a chocolate they saw in the passing window, because their breath had smelled like that.
I remember Joe for so many things. Licking my lips reminds me of the time I finally got his cock in my mouth. It wasn’t even somewhere private. He tasted like a lot of things, reminded me of so many different people, but I don’t remember the other people he tasted like, only I had tasted someone like him.
But nothing could compare to me sucking him off.
We were sitting around a table in a restraint. It wasn’t a special restaurant. We were there after a hard day of filming only a week away from the tour, and this was serving as a much needed “break” if you could even call it that. Joe’s face looked ready to fall into his food. The rest of the family didn’t seem all that better. To me, a break was sleeping and not doing shit. The perky waitress, who had come to take our drinks, wasn’t helping. Everyone just wanted to eat and go home. No one wanted to stand up to grab their food at the buffet.
There were a lot of people sitting around, a high chatter in the lively place. A few kids were bouncing around in the bright buffet, piling plates higher and higher. Family members were trying to keep track of each other, and Big Rob just looked random sitting at the table with us. The three body guards milling about took their own ice cream sundaes from the free ice cream machines. None of them were as hot as Bodyguard Cookie.
“Joe?” Denise questioned, looking at the sleepy rise of her son.
“I’m going to the bathroom.” Denise nodded, going back to her food, but not before casting an anxious look at Joe’s plate of food that had barely been touched.
“Take someone to clear out the bathroom.”
“Dad…” Joe groaned, while at the same time nodding to one of the body guards who was happily chopping on his vanilla and chocolate ice cream mix. The body guard started into the bathroom, and Joe followed with a weary jaunt. A kid ran into him, complete with carrot cake.
The cake went flying right onto Joe’s shirt. A big splat of orange and cream crap was now on Joe's pristine shirt. The kid started to cry, once he realized the cake wasn’t in his hands anymore. Joe started to apologize, but the kid kept screaming. Joe lowered his head and started to the bathrooms when the kid ran away, crying for a new piece of cake. Little piece of shit. The bodyguard emerged from the bathroom and acknowledged that the bathroom was empty.
Nick groaned, and started to get up probably figuring his brother would have some mental breakdown in the bathroom. Joe looked so sad pushing open the door and walking in.
“I need to go too,” I said quickly, pushing out of my chair. The family just nodded, and Nick slumped happily back into his seat. They were so fucking tired. It was kind of funny. Kevin at least would’ve given me a glare if he was more awake.
I quickly made my way over to the bathroom, and the guard let me slide past with a raised spoon of ice cream. The bathroom didn’t turn out that clean, it wasn’t dirty gas station dirty, but it wasn’t five star hotel clean. Joe stood at a urinal, his amazing cock out. He wasn’t big, I couldn’t say that, but he definitely wasn’t a dinky dick either.
“Peeing?” I asked as conversation starter, and Joe all but jumped out of his cake smeared shirt, his water stream amusingly disappearing in shock.
“Christ, don’t do that.”
“Don’t concern yourself with me; I’ll just be here, staring at you as you try to pee.”
“Tristan, not now…” Joe turned back to his dick, and on his face I could see him willing himself to pee. It was quite amusing.
I leaned against the mirror, chipped in the top corner, the porcelain sink dug into my hip, and Joe was still trying to pee.
I opened my mouth, but Joe decided to cut across me, pretending he knew what I was going to say. “It’s harder when someone is staring at you.” I laughed at how upset Joe seemed about it.
I pushed off of the sink and wrapped my arms around my boyfriend’s shoulders. I buried my head in his neck, breathing him in. “I’m not watching now.”
“Flash,” Joe whined, and I laughed softly. He was so pathetic sometimes. I lowered my hands to around his waist. “Tristan...” I lowered my hands just slightly and they bumped into his cock. He sucked in a breath as I felt my way around him. I nuzzled his neck, and softly stroked him. A shudder went travelled up his back. “Tristan, we’re in public -”
“A public bathroom where your bodyguard isn’t going to let anyone in.” I rested my cheek by his. “You’re stressed, you need to relax.” I pushed him around, pressing him to the sink. Joe was too tired to refuse. I kissed him sweetly on the lips. “You taste like pickles.”
“Do you like pickles?” he muttered back, lips pressed to mine.
“Not really, but I like you, so we’re good.” I shimmied down to his dick. I licked a strip up it, gliding up and down as he hardened. He gave a soft moan, and I took him back into my mouth. I hummed up and down, bobbing along. His hips jutted forward and his hands curled into my hair.
I got him to moan my name as I knelt before him, mouth fucking him. I could feel him tightening more, ready to come. The door swung open and I heard the pitter-patter pattern of steps I faintly recognized, and I didn’t fucking care, because here I was, with Joe at my will, having to bite his lip to keep from screaming. I was in control, Joe was loving it, and I was finally getting something I wanted.
The feet stopped, and I kept sucking, eyes locked on Joe’s face, twisted in pleasure. His eyes were closed, fingers wrapped tightly in my hair. Then he moaned and eyes opened, darting down to me. Then they darted up, and Joe froze. I kept moving my tongue, flicking it over him dick as he deflated, tasting every bit I could of him.
His hands untangled hastily from my hair. He shoved me back, escaping with a pop and fumbled to zip himself up. He was flushed, and I spun around, finally wondering what the hell was up, and I froze.
Nick was standing there.
Shock was written across his face. He stood staring. Joe stumbled to him, pushing around my still kneeling self. Well this was a highly awkward situation.
“Nick,” he blubbered.
Nick turned and headed out the door. The boy’s face was white. I carefully stood, going to place my arms around Joe, but he moved away from me.
“He knows…” he whispered.
“So?”
“Oh God, he knows…”
Joe quickly straightened out his hair, I started to suck on his neck, and he wrenched away. “Whore,” he seethed at me.
I shrugged; the stinging in my chest came from not getting him to come like I had been planning. “You liked it.”
“You just messed this all up, you realize that? I’m going to… He’s going to tell everyone!” he hissed.
I refused to think I would buckle under Joe’s gaze; I told myself that if I buckled it was because my head was light from all the sucking. Joe started for the door, and I stood there, left alone. I glanced at the mirror, and I saw whorey me staring back. I snaked out my tongue and tipped myself a smile.
I brushed down my hair, and straightened my clothes. I brushed the imaginary germs from off of my skinny jeans, and then followed Joe out the door. When I got to the table, Nick was just eating, and Joe was shooting glances at his brother every three seconds. No one seemed to know what had just gone on. I sniffed myself when I slid down next to Joe. I smelled a little like sex, not too bad though, if I do say so myself. Frankie wouldn’t know what sex smelled like, neither would the “pure” brothers. So I was good. If anything happened, I decided to blame it on the restaurant soap.
Everyone got home in one piece, and everyone went to their own corners of the house to sleep in one piece. I headed towards my room, and just as I knew, Joe came later in the night. It didn’t matter he had just called me a whore, or that his brother had just caught me sucking him off, Joe wanted someone to hold him and touch him in the way no one else had ever done.
He clamored onto the bed with me, he kissed me. “What was that for?” he demanded when he pulled back. I knew he was talking about the half-assed blow job I had given him, which hadn't been half-assed until his brother walked in, totally ruining it.
“Back to the kiss and tell?”
“Tristan,” came in a low growl out of his throat.
“Late Christmas present.”
“Couldn’t have given it to me at Christmas, when no one was around?”
“You wouldn’t have accepted it then, you know it, I know it. You weren’t ready.” Joe stared hard down at me, and I flicked my tongue out to graze his lips. His expression almost immediately softened.
“Joe.”
Joe’s head shot up to find Nick’s dark form standing in the doorway. He rolled off of me; the almost playful mood I had gotten him in had disappeared. Fuck Nick. He ruined everything. Joe stumbled to his brother, who glared at me, but talked to Joe. “So this is what you’ve been doing? Why you broke up with her?”
“Nick,” Joe whispered frantically back, trying to calm Nick. I don’t know why, even I could tell calming time was a time in the past.
“You’ve been sneaking around with him? He’s not good for you, don’t you realize that?!”
“Hush,” I commanded coming out to stand by Joe, my boxers riding about as low as they could on my hips. Nick lashed at me. I flinched, and Joe snatched at his brother’s hand, keeping it from colliding with my face.
“Don’t,” Joe threatened in a soft voice, and shivers travelled up my spine, seeing Joe like this. He was never a commanding one in bed; he left that to me, but fuck, he became hot when he glared and told people what to do.
Nick wrenched his arm away from Joe’s vise grip and scowled at me. “So this is the person the whole song is about. Tristan, who drives you up and down, and makes your mind spin. You don’t know what you’re feeling, but you love it. You can’t stop thinking about him any second of the day. If he leaves, you don’t think you’ll be able to breath. He’s your support, he’s your love, and he drives you insane.” Nick spat out each word, and at every few, to my horror, Joe flinched. Yet I swelled in pride. “So is it about him, huh? You turned on us?”
Joe bit his lip, and then nodded, eyes locked directly to his brother’s.
“You know who we thought it was? We thought it was you talking about some girl you wanted this time, maybe another Taylor or Camilla, but no, it’s not a girl at all, it’s a guy. It’s him. Do you even know what you’re going to say in introduction to the song when you sing it up on stage? ‘Oh hey, this is for the guy I love?’ Is that what you're going to tell them? 'Hey, there is this guy I love, who I'm screwing behind everyone's back, while saying I'm straight?' Are you screwing him, Joe?!”
“No,” I answered for Joe, a half lie while threading my arm through his. “Not yet. Soon,” I wanted to add. But I didn’t, because then it would make it later than the soon I was planning. Joe wouldn’t accept me saying it. He would go through that phase again about how kissing a guy was wrong, but it wasn’t, not really.
“You can’t tell anyone,” Joe continued when Nick didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to disagree. I wanted to tell Nick to tell the world, because really, that’s all I wanted to happen right now. I wanted them to know Joe was fucking me, that I had a hot piece of celebrity ass, and I was doing naughty things with him.
“This is going to get out.”
“It’s not going to get out.”
“I caught you in the bathroom, what if someone else walked in? What if Mom walked in or Dad?”
“This isn’t going to get out,” Joe said again firmly, and the smile that was instilled on my face faltered.
“I doubt that, everything gets out about us, sooner or later.”
“No, this won’t.”
“Fans look at songs, they stare at them, and analyze everything they can in them! This will get out, someone will guess. And it’s too late now to pull the song off of the play list for the concert, it’s too late to keep your secret from getting out.”
“Nick -”
“Why are you even trying to talk to me? Why?! You know what this is going to do? This is going to destroy us. It’s going to tear apart the band and our family, and it’s all because of you.” Nick’s finger was pointed straight at me, his eyes blazing.
“Check your levels.”
“This isn’t my levels talking,” Nick hissed to Joe. “I know what I’m talking about. Do you know what Disney is going to say when they realize this has happened? What about fans? Denying we’re gay for however long, and then you pop out with a song and a boyfriend.”
“I said that they’re not going to find out!”
“How? Are you going to stop kissing him, touching him, liking him, hell, loving him?!” I moved my hand to Joe’s shoulder, and he shrugged it off. I clutched it by my side. The necklace felt colder than ever underneath my shirt. “And you convinced Mom to take him on tour with us. You hoodwinked us all, and Disney agreed to pull around the extra person, pull around the Jonas Charity Case, because it will be good for publicity.” I slipped a hand up to touch the ragged scar on my skin. “It’s not going to be good when people find out. You’re going to slip up, Tristan is going to slip up, and then the Jonas Brothers will be over, because you couldn’t keep your roaming hands to -”
I heard footsteps over head, and the other two did too. Joe shoved me back into the room, his face a complete blank slate, and moved out into the hallway with Nick. He closed the door behind him, and I listened to their harsh whispers as they moved away.
I walked back to my bed and settled down on it. I shifted my boxers lower and wrapped my hand around my cock. I imagined it to be Joe’s hand. He hadn’t touched me before, and I wished he would. I imagined the way his strong hand would feel on me, how it would be rough from his calluses. I moaned thinking of his hand going faster, his fingers wrapping tighter.
I fucking hated how the only way I could come now was on my own and imagining Jonas in my head.
I didn’t see again Joe until the next day, sitting at the kitchen table for breakfast. Nick avoided his brother’s eyes while he openly glared at me. Everyone was too tired and wrapped up in their own little worlds, even Frankie.
Joe’s eyes had bags under them, and he refused to look at me, focusing on holding his head and pretending to eat. I sighed, frustrated. Was I the only one who saw anymore when something was wrong with Joe? Was the family too blind?
Almost on cue, Frankie’s eyes darted to his brother, and then worriedly to mine. I could just see the plea in them to make sure Joe eats. I glanced at Joe. He wouldn’t meet my eyes. I was ready to shoot someone again, which wasn’t a good sign. Nothing was a good sign with me these days. If I’m happy, it’s a bad sign, because it normally meant I would swing so far down sooner or later.
The whole family went out, except Frankie who stayed at home with me. He was supposed to be getting rest, eating up, doing something that involved lazing around so he wouldn’t be too tired the next day, when they had a full day of filming ahead. This family was so fucking insane.
Frankie and I played jacks in the big living room on the floor. I was barely trying to catch the ball and get the oddly color jacks that were scattered out. Frankie was grabbing up one jack after another, his chubby fingers catching them up.
“You haven’t been filming your life a lot these days.” I hated how I was concerned almost as much with Frankie as I was with Joe. I hated that even when Joe wasn’t near me my thoughts kept revolving around him, especially with the way he had been at the breakfast table. Remembering his face when he’d pushed me back into the room as he left with Nick hurt.
“I’ve been doing a lot of real filming,” Frankie replied idly back, dropping the ball and snatching up four jacks and the ball before it had a chance to hit the hardwood floor again.
“And you’re tired.”
“Not as tired as Joe.” He held the ball in his hand, studying the rest of the jacks lying out. It caught me off guard when he spoke again. “He’s mad at you. Or you’re mad at him. Or he’s confused. Or someone has been telling him something he either doesn’t like, can’t understand, or doesn’t want to believe.”
I watched the ball fall from Frankie’s hand.
“How do you know that?”
“So it’s the truth?”
“You tell me,” I snarled back. I was mad that this little kid could somehow understand my “boyfriend” better than I could.
I wanted to hurt him so badly then. I wanted to take a jack and shove it down his throat, followed by the ball. Then maybe the chess set sitting on the table behind us. I wanted all those pieces to puncture his throat, and stab out just above his Adam’s apple. I wanted him to choke on his own blood. I wanted him to fucking suffocate.
Then just as quickly as the thought came, it disappeared.
I was staring at the little ten year old boy who had jumped on my dick. I was staring at the boy who cared about my boyfriend and cared about me enough to wish I was a girl so I could be part of the family. How fucked up was that?
“I know it’s the truth because I heard screaming last night. I know because Joe’s my brother, and…” Frankie trailed off and looked at me. “You can’t tell anyone this next part.” I frowned, trying to think about what I wouldn’t be able to tell, before slowly nodding, ready for a big secret coming my way. “I know because he’s my favorite brother, so no duh I know something's wrong with him.”
I wanted to push him to the ground because he thought that was a secret that had to be kept. I couldn’t believe that the secret he was worried about was who his favorite was. It wasn’t that he loved the same sex in a household that didn’t seem to accept that, or that he secretly killed people as a job. It was that Joe was Frankie’s favorite brother.
“But I can’t do anything about what’s wrong,” Frankie continued. “I can’t help him with what’s bothering him. He told me this morning it was big guy stuff.” He looked at me with these big brown eyes that had been bestowed upon him and his brothers. “But you’re a big guy, you can help him with this.”
I took the ball from Frankie’s hand, and dropped it, trying to sweep up a jack or two before the ball bounced again. I failed.
It was ten before Joe got home. I waited until one in the morning in my room before I realized Joe wasn’t coming. I turned over in bed, thinking of falling asleep, but Joe’s chocolate eyes came into mind, which then turned into Frankie’s little brown eyes, and the conversation that I had with him in the morning.
I got out of bed and headed to the stairs. I had to pass through the kitchen, which was lit up by the refrigerator. I paused before heading into the kitchen. I could always lie and say I was just going to get a drink of milk if whoever was in there asked why I was awake.
The problem was it was Nick. I barely made him sitting at the table, eating a bowl of ice cream. He looked up at me for a second, and froze, just catching my silhouette. I froze too, having no idea what to do.
The spoon of sugary food was halfway to his mouth. He gave me a weird look, before lowering the spoon. “You’re not wearing makeup.”
“You’re eating ice cream.”
Nick nodded to the stairs. “I won’t tell if you don’t tell.”
I glanced oddly back at him. What the hell? I was kind of confused. He calmly scooped a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. Then I slowly realized what he was offering me. He wouldn’t tell anyone I went up to Joe, if I didn’t tell anyone he was sneaking a bowl of ice cream. Especially being a diabetic and all.
“Can’t that kill you?” I asked slowly, instead of being smart and just bowing out to the stairs.
Nick shrugged, moaning as he rolled the blob of ice cream around in his mouth. “At the moment, I don’t caaaaare.”
I shrugged, alright, cool. If he didn’t care he could die, I didn’t give crap either. I started up the stairs, not bothering to be all that quiet. If no one had woken up to the refrigerator, I wouldn’t wake them going up the steps.
It took me a little bit to remember which door was actually Joe’s. All the doors were closed and there weren’t anything to mark them. I didn’t knock before entering. Knocking could wake someone else in the house.
Joe was lying sprawled on his bed, his breathing wasn’t his normal rhythmic pattern for when he slept; it was fast and short. He was thinking. But his breath caught when the door creaked open.
“Joe?”
“Flash?” I smiled at the nickname. I closed the door behind me, and, feeling like a naughty teen, slid in next to Joe. He didn’t immediately wrap an arm around me like he had done just two nights ago, his arms stayed to himself.
“What’s wrong?”
Joe sighed.
“Tell me,” I commanded him. He let out a harsh breath of air. I rolled over top of him, kissing his li-cheek. He’d turned his head away from me. I sucked in my own air, trying to keep a calm head.
I flopped down next to Joe. “I’m not wearing makeup.” I grumbled. Joe let out a sharp laugh.
“You never do at night.”
“But that’s when you come to me, but now I’m coming to you without makeup.” He stayed silent, his hands under his head and he gazed up at the ceiling. “You like me without makeup… What do you see up there? Stars?” I became frustrated with my silent boyfriend. Was he even my boyfriend anymore? I tried to snuggle into him, but Joe didn’t shift his legs to wrap in mine, like what had happened one night late in my room.“You know you’re not going to hell for liking me, right?”
“What?”
“That’s what you’re thinking about, isn’t it? Nick went off on you for liking me and kissing me. He said something about going to hell for doing stuff with me. But didn’t Jesus always say love everyone and all that crap?” I received a small shrug for my efforts. “He was always getting dudes to tell his stories; don’t you think that’s saying something? And Leonardo, he was a guy’s man, too, and he’s famous and everyone loves him now. If you’re worried about that pretty ring of yours, why worry? If I do end up getting you inside of me or me inside of you, you’re not going to lose your purity, not the way everyone thinks about it. You already have in a way anyway.” I could feel Joe smile in the dark, his lips crinkling up. I almost saw him trying to hide it. I nudged him gently. “You okay?”
Joe turned and wrapped his arms around me, nose nuzzling my neck. He breathed me in, and I felt the tickle of air trailing past me.
I wrapped our feet together. He didn’t try to tell me to go back to my room. He let me fall asleep in his arms. He let me stay with him for the night, wrapped in his arms.
Frankie came flying in the room in the morning. He didn’t even knock or bother to shout before he flew onto the bed with us. He muttered something I couldn’t understand ,being half asleep, but Joe caught him and squeezed the poor boy between us.
And for some reason, I wasn’t upset that there was another body between Joe and I. Because I liked this body. I’d never thought about having kids before, but lying there with Frankie’s warm body pressed between Joe’s and my warm body, and our feet all meshed together, I thought about screwing everything, the job, Joe’s family, the evil dog, the Jonas Brothers, and running away with Joe to make our own family.
How stupid that thought had been.
Seventeen and stupid, I’d thought he would’ve liked the idea too when I’d mentioned it to him that day, when we’d stood on a bridge next to each other, sweet air dancing around us. He just had to give in. Give in and lean forward.
Seventeen and stupid.
~*~