FIC: Sad Songs to Keep Me Awake part 3 (Jonas Brothers/Band of Brothers, Joe/Luz, Nick/Nix)
Title: Sad Songs to Keep Me Awake, part 3
Fandom: Band of Brothers/Jonas Brothers RPF
Rating: NC-17 for sexytimes
Pairings: Joe Jonas/George Luz, Nick Jonas/Lewis Nixon (in this chapter)
WARNINGS: Underage (16 years old). Older dude/younger dude. Explicit sexual content. (For this chapter; for the fic as a whole, also incest.)
Length: 7600 words (in this chapter)
Disclaimer: This is obviously incredibly fictional -- characterization of the JoBros is based mostly on my imagination, and the portrayal of the veterans is based on the miniseries, not the real people (no grandpas were harmed in the making of this fic).
Summary: The Jonas Brothers go to sexy war.
AN: The Jonas Brothers made a video set in WWII, then this happened. Visuals to help you out: Joe, Nick, Joe and Nick. fodian gets the credit/blame for the initial idea, and then miss_bennie and irishmizzy EXTREMELY EXTREMELY brainstormed this with me. The fic is dedicated to them. Also, it's super long, so I'll be posting it in parts. Previous: part one, part two, or use the tag.
**
Dear George,
Sorry this is just a postcard, but I can't get my hands on much paper right now, or much time to write anything longer, so I guess it'll have to do. Hope you're seeing more action than I am -- holding Tunisia doesn't seem very important now, with everything going on where you are. My unit ............ ....... ……. …….. ..... .......... ....... ...... ...... and I don't know what to do. I guess that's war for you.
Stay safe, okay? Mom worries.
Love,
Ed
**
"Have you seen Nick?" Joe's voice comes from directly behind Luz's foxhole, and Luz cranes his head all the way back to look at him, so he's seeing Joe upside down. It's snowing again, Joe's figure looming dark against the white, his head dangling down towards the night sky. Snowflakes land cold on Luz's cheeks and the ground's frigid against the back of his head.
"I thought he was with you," Luz says.
"Nah, he disappeared again," Joe says, and slides into Luz's foxhole. "He's been disappearing a lot lately."
"Mmm," Luz says. It is weird, considering how the Jonases always used to be together, but he can't bring himself to worry about it too much, not when he and Joe are finally alone without that third wheel along.
He likes Nick Jonas, he really does. But, well.
Joe takes his helmet off and runs his hand through his half-grown-out mohawk, ruffling it up so he looks a little bit like a baby bird. "Malarkey dared me to lick my rifle."
Luz looks at Joe's gun, black in the snowy air. "Did your tongue freeze to it?"
"Nah, I didn't do it," Joe says. He puts his helmet down next to him, his head bare. He looks younger with it off.
Luz lets out a bemused puff of air. "What?"
Joe shrugs and slumps down lower in the foxhole, squirming to make himself comfortable. "I'm growing as a person."
Luz laughs. "Okay," he says. That's weird. "Why?"
Joe shrugs again. "Well, my foot still hurts, for one thing."
"Oh yeah," Luz says, and leans his head back, looking at Joe's foot. "How is your foot, anyway?"
"Hurts," Joe says. He shifts so he can prop his boot in Luz's lap, kicking Luz in the stomach as he does it.
"Ow," Luz says, twisting away. "Goddamnit, Jonas. What, you want me to kiss it and make it better?"
Joe shrugs, smirking at him. "Maybe," he says. He looks at Luz, a long look, and then down at Luz's mouth. "Dare you to," he says.
Luz grimaces. "I'm not kissing your disgusting foot," he says.
"Scared?" Joe says.
"Yes, actually," Luz says. Somewhere down the line, someone fires some shots. He makes himself not turn to look. They've been under fire a lot more lately, ever since they advanced the line. There might be artillery, Lip said. Luz isn't looking forward to that.
"I double dog dare you," Joe says.
Luz rolls his eyes and slumps down lower in the foxhole, so he can lean his head back against the wall of it. Joe's foot butts into his stomach, the army boot hard against his gut. "I'm not kissing your foot," Luz says. "I'll kiss you anywhere else, though." He looks at Joe through half-lidded eyes, daring him to take him up on it. He's been thinking about kissing Joe again ever since Christmas, ever since the sleepy kisses they got in before little Jonas came back to be in the way.
"Anywhere?" Joe says. His eyes look bright, his whole body at alert, muscles tense.
Luz smiles at him lazily, thinking about the places he could kiss him. Before Joe showed up tonight, he'd been half asleep, his eyes almost closing, but now he's awake, aware of Joe's body, the muscles of Joe's calf under his hand.
Joe smiles back him, that light in his eyes, then pulls his foot back. He pushes himself up and forward so he's kneeling, then knee-walks over until he's finally straddling Luz's legs, sitting back on Luz's thighs.
"Anywhere," Luz says, forcing himself to stay lying back even though he wants to press forward, forcing himself to stay languid, in control, daring Joe to do something.
And whatever dares of Malarkey's he turns down, Joe takes all Luz's dares. He leans forward, puts both gloved hands on Luz's cheeks and kisses him, a deliberate, careful kiss, not much like Joe at all except for the happiness lingering underneath it, the way Joe's breath catches and Luz can feel him start to smile. Luz closes his eyes and Joe presses his tongue into Luz's mouth, cautious and slow.
The snow makes everything outside the foxhole sound a little muffled, the misty white of it thick in the night-darkness so it feels like he and Joe are in their own silent world, isolated from everything. Joe keeps kissing him, but moves his hands away for a second to fumble with his gloves. Then it's his bare hands, one on Luz's right cheek and the other on the skin of Luz's neck, naked and chapped, the gloves tossed aside. Luz moves an arm around Joe's shoulders, feeling the planes of Joe's back move, feeling Joe shiver a little bit.
Joe moves down, kissing Luz's neck, his sparse stubble scraping at Luz's skin. His hands are everywhere, scraping across Luz's chest, on Luz's hips, his thighs.
"Dare you to get in my pants," Luz mutters.
Joe laughs, but now his hands are moving across Luz's lap, pressing against his erection, finding the buttons of his fly. Luz thinks he's stopped breathing.
"Aw, piece of cake, dare me something tough," Joe says, reaching his hand in to grasp Luz's cock.
Luz gives a strangled laugh, hips jerking forward. "Asshole," he says, and groans as Joe moves his hand, sliding it along Luz's cock. The only sound in the snow-soft air is Luz's harsh breathing, the rasping glide of Joe's hand moving on him. Joe's still kneeling over him, left hand braced on Luz's chest. Luz leans his head back against the frozen wall of the foxhole and watches Joe, the concentration on his face, tongue in the corner of his mouth, focusing on what he's doing. Joe twists his hand over the head and when Luz makes a strangled sound, Joe looks up and grins.
"Slut," Joe says, his eyes laughing.
"Oh my God," Luz says, making a face at him, and he puts his hands on Joe's chest and shoves gently, pushing Joe over onto his back.
"Hey," Joe says, his hand still down Luz's pants, but now Luz is lying on top of him, looming over him. Luz pushes forward and kisses Joe again, Joe's mouth hot and his lips chapped. When Luz kisses him, Joe's hand tightens on Luz's cock, and Luz groans into his mouth.
Joe laughs, and Luz has had about enough, so he reaches down and presses the heel of his hand against Joe's erection, and then it's Joe who's groaning, bucking back against Luz, and they're thrusting against each other, bodies moving frantically and hands in the way, Joe's body a squirming mass of limbs under Luz, smirking up at Luz when he can catch his breath enough to close his mouth.
"Asshole," Luz mutters at him again affectionately, and Joe beams at him, reaching his spare hand up to the back of Luz's neck to pull his head down to kiss him again.
They kiss until they have to pull back to gasp for breath, their hips moving together to find a rhythm. Luz thinks they're breathing too loud, panting so harshly someone walking by must be able to hear, but it's not like they can stop now, not as he's getting so close, not with Joe's bare hand still in his fly, pushing against him as they rock together.
"Joe," Luz says quiet and Joe smiles at him, and outside in the sky they hear the whoosh of a shell flying over their foxhole. Luz's stomach drops the way it always does at that sound, and down the line Buck yells, "Incoming! Take cover!"
"Fuck," Joe mutters, staring up at Luz with wide scared eyes, and they should probably stop because it's horrible and awful and terrifying but Luz is so close, and he thrusts against Joe's hand once, twice more, and then he's coming, making little desperate noises, and then Joe's coming too, groaning and saying, "George," and outside another shell flies over, that deathly scream and then the blast of it, and there's Joe saying, "George," underneath.
Luz lets his head drop down onto Joe's shoulder, his heart pounding from sex and fear, and he can feel Joe's breathing, not slowing down either, and when he moves his hand up to rest on Joe's neck, he can feel Joe's pulse racing under his fingers. They should probably sit up, straighten their clothes before somebody comes by and see them, but Luz is too scared to put his head up. He can feel Joe shaking as he works his hand out of Luz's fly, and they just lie there together, Luz on Joe's chest, Joe's hand fisting in Luz's coat, and listen to the shells hit other people. It seems like it goes on for a long time.
**
Luz isn't sure how everybody hears about the Jonases' third brother getting wounded before he does, but Bill Guarnere, of all people, is the one who tells him. Kevin Jonas got hit bad in the Pacific, they don't know if he's going to make it. Bill has a little bit of a tight look to him when he tells Luz, like he's remembering his own brother. God, poor Joe, Luz thinks, but for a second he feels a surge of gratitude that it's not his own brother who got hit, and then he feels guilty, guilty like you wouldn't believe. It's a familiar feeling, after so long on the line, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with.
When Luz goes back to his foxhole, Joe's there, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees.
"Hey," Luz says, dropping in beside him. Joe doesn't really react, like he's too shell-shocked, his eyes red-rimmed but not teary. His face is tight and controlled. "I just heard," Luz says, his voice quiet. Joe closes his eyes for a long moment, but otherwise doesn't move. He looks wrung out, and for a second Luz wishes he were the kind of guy who could talk to people when they're like this, like Lip or somebody who can say something besides lame jokes. "Where's Nick?" Luz tries.
Joe shrugs, still hugging his arms around his knees. After a long moment, he draws in a shuddering breath. "You know, our brother's probably dead already," he says, his voice low. He sounds surprisingly calm. "The letter we got was from two weeks ago, so it probably already happened."
God. What do you say to that? "I'm sorry," Luz says. He tries desperately to think of something else to say, something profound and comforting, but he can't think of a thing. Maybe there just isn't anything.
Joe clears his throat. "I keep thinking about going home," he says. "Just me and Nicky, and Kevin not there. And I just -- God. The house would just be really empty."
Luz thinks about it, about going home if his brother weren't. Without meaning to, he shudders. "Yeah," he says. Then, because he can't think of anything else to say, "How's Nick?"
Joe shrugs, his face contorting like he's scared now that if he keeps talking he'll start crying. Luz feels so helpless, he doesn't know what to do, but finally he remembers that he has one candy bar left. He fumbles in his pockets for it, holding it out to Joe.
"Chocolate?" he says.
Joe tries to smile a little bit, and takes it out of Luz's hand. He opens it right then, which he's never done when Luz's given him chocolate before, and breaks off a chunk of it to hand it back to Luz. So they sit there in his foxhole together, eating chocolate and not talking, and after a little while Luz twists around so he's sitting next to Joe, arm to arm, thigh to thigh, pressed together. He can feel the warmth of Joe's body through their thin canvas trousers, the way Joe's slumped. He's just comforting a friend, sitting this close, but he also feels good, happy, like things are only all right when they're sitting together, touching. Even if Joe's brother is dying.
After a long moment, Joe sighs a ragged desperate sigh and leans his head down onto Luz's shoulder.
**
Guarnere and Toye get torn up like nobody should be torn up, and when he and Joe walk up and see it, Luz feels a little sick, disconnected from his body, fuzzy, like he can't quite focus on anything. It all seems far away, blood on the snow, people's legs not where they should be.
Lip goes to talk to Buck, and Joe and Luz look at each other. Joe looks bad, bad, and Luz doesn't feel anything, it's strange, you'd think he'd feel something.
Suddenly Joe stares at something behind him, and Luz turns to see a figure walking out of the pine trees towards them -- it's Nick, Luz can tell from his walk, but he's been hit somehow, blood all over his face, streaming down and covering his features so he looks like something out of a nightmare. Luz can't believe he's walking, with that much blood all over him. Beside him, Joe makes a horrible strangled noise.
"What?" the bloody mess of Nick says, trotting up to them. When Luz glances at Joe, he's so pale he looks like he's about to pass out.
"Medic!" Joe screams. He sounds frantic, and Luz doesn't blame him. Doc Roe has already left, following Toye and his bloody stump of a leg.
"Jesus, Nick," Luz says. His voice is shaky. "Where're you hit?"
"What?" Nick says, and Luz watches some blood drip into his eye. Nick winces and wipes at his forehead, smearing a pale fleshy streak in the thick blood. He stares at his bloody hand when he brings it down again, like he hadn't even realized he was bleeding at all. "Oh," Nick says blankly.
"Jesus, sit down," Luz says, making Nick sit on a fallen tree and starting to dab at Nick's face with his sleeve.
Joe's still yelling for a medic, but as Luz gets some of the blood mopped away, he finds the source to be a cut at Nick's hairline, like little Jonas just got grazed by some shrapnel. Head wounds always bleed a lot, more than you'd expect. It definitely took a chunk out of Nick's forehead, but it's not bad.
"Joe," Luz says, and when Joe doesn't stop yelling, he grabs his shoulder. "Joe, it's not that bad, it's not deep."
"Medic!" Joe keeps screaming, and under Luz's hand, Joe's shaking. Doc Roe finally comes jogging back over.
"All right," he says. "Where're you hit?" And Nick's sheepishly pointing to his forehead, smears of blood still all over his face, but not as fresh, drying in flakes and smudges.
Joe stops yelling, but he's breathing like he's been running. Luz makes him sit down, shaking and pale and hyperventilating, like he's been gut-punched, like he just saw his worst fears come true. "Hey," Luz keeps saying to him, low, sitting next to him so their sides touch. "He's okay. He's fine."
Joe puts his head in his hands and tries to catch his breath. "I thought --" he chokes out, but leaves the thought unfinished. Luz knows what he means, though -- seeing the bloody figure of Nick coming out of those trees, especially when their other brother's probably dead, well. Of course you'd think. Luz puts a tentative hand up to rub Joe's back, watching Doc Roe bandage Nick up. Nick barely even looks like he felt the cut, looks more embarrassed than anything.
"God," Joe mutters. "Don't love anything in a war zone." After he says it, he glances over at Luz sharply, like he's just realized something. Luz still has his hand on Joe's back. Joe shrugs away. "Get off," he says, but his tone and his shrug are half-hearted, so Luz's hand stays. Across from them, Nick's watching from under Doc Roe's arm, and for a second, Luz lets himself imagine that it had been bad, that Joe was the only brother left, the last of the three. It's a horrible thought -- it's hard to imagine Joe as a solo act, as not one of a team, a gang. Under his hand, Joe's still shaking.
**
The onslaught of artillery keeps coming, day after day, night after night. When the shells are coming down, it feels like the whole world's exploding, dirt and snow and tree branches going everywhere, like everything's being reduced back to chaos, some primordial soup and Luz in the middle of it, trying to breathe. Muck and Penkala get blown to smithereens right in front of him, and the company feels like it's being blasted down to nothing, only a few of them still left to keep getting the shit kicked out of them by the goddamn artillery. Luz feels a little blank all the time, his muscles always tense. Even in between shell bursts you can't relax, waiting for them to start up again, and while they're going on, it feels like it'll never be quiet again. Luz just wishes he could sleep more than ten minutes at a time. Well, he wishes a lot of things, but right now that's at the top of the list.
He sits in his foxhole in between barrages, leaning his head back against the dirt, letting his mind wander. You can think about anything but what you usually think about, he tells himself sternly, but the problem with deciding not to think about something is that you immediately think about it. Don't think about a white elephant. There, now Luz's thinking about a white elephant instead of about kissing Joe Jonas. Problem solved.
Goddammit, and now he's ruined it, back to thinking about Joe. Well, it's not his fault. Joe had touched him, grinned at him, kissed him and kissed him, and Luz has done a lot of stuff, with a lot of people, but he's always gotten them out of his head afterwards. He guesses the difference is that they've never been his best friend before.
And it seems like Joe's avoiding him. Maybe it's just the shelling, how nobody can act normal, or maybe it's how Muck and Penkala were their friends and it feels empty without them, or maybe it's how the Jonases still don't know if their brother's dead or not. Maybe it was Buck finally breaking, or maybe it was seeing Nick covered in blood, but Joe's acting weird, making excuses to get away from him. And it seems like everybody else is dead or wounded, off the line, so Luz is spending a lot of time with Lip, watching him watch everybody else, watching him keep tabs on who needs to get off the line, who needs to change their socks, who needs more cover on their foxhole. It's not the same.
He shifts around in his foxhole, trying to get comfortable, but that just makes him remember Joe shifting around on top of him, and God, what's happened to him? It's so ridiculous, no matter how good Joe had been, how low his voice had sounded, how his skin had felt against Luz's.
"For fuck's sake," Luz mutters to himself, fed up, and pulls himself out of the hole to go for a walk.
Feeling like this about Joe is terrible, because it means he's always worried about him, where he is, what Luz is going to do if Joe gets hit. It's ten times the burden of just worrying about himself, and Luz wonders if Joe feels this way all the time about Nick. It's a lot to deal with; no wonder he gets that hassled look so often. God, Luz needs to get over this, it's making his life too complicated. He finds a tree to piss on, and then walks the line, looking for someone to talk to.
It's probably not that surprising that he ends up at Nick and Joe's hole. He just -- well, Joe's his best friend, whatever else Luz feels about him. Of course he wants to see him. But Nick and Joe aren't there. Probably off daring each other to run up to the German line and steal a Kraut sock or something. Luz sits in the empty foxhole and waits, shivering.
When Joe and Nick walk up, Joe winces when he sees Luz. Gosh, he knows how to make a guy feel good.
"Hey," Nick says, perfectly friendly, but Joe says, "What are you doing here?" in this aggravated tone.
"Geez," Luz says. "What'd I ever do to you?"
Joe looks at him sharply, like he's not quite sure what Luz means by that, but Luz just stares right back at him. Joe's face doesn't soften, though.
"Okay, okay," Luz says, pulling himself out of the foxhole. Joe drops into it, making himself comfortable. "I'll get out of your way."
Nick looks at him, then looks at Joe, wary, like his parents are fighting or something but he doesn't quite know what's going on. Joe just crosses his arm against his chest, leaning back against the wall of the foxhole. Luz shrugs at Nick and turns to go. Behind him, he hears the Jonases talking in lowered voices. Joe sounds angry. Luz feels cold and wraps his arms around himself, wonders what Lip's doing.
**
The next night, Joe must be getting over whatever it is, because this time when he has to leave as soon as Luz shows up, he at least tells Luz to come find him later. So that's something. Luz talks to Shifty and Liebgott and lets the snow settle in his hair and wonders how long "later" is.
When he's finally decided that it must be later by now, he goes walking down the line, peering into foxholes to try to find Joe. The second one he looks in holds Nick Jonas and Captain Nixon, of all people, sitting next to each other in the half-covered hole. Nixon's talking to Nick in a low voice, his big hand on the back of Nick's neck, and they don't look up as Luz goes by. It's funny to see Nick Jonas getting comforted by someone not Joe. They still haven't heard about their brother, and the two of them look bad all the time, stretched and thin. So it's good someone can talk to them, even if Luz didn't even know Nick knew Captain Nixon. Well, whatever.
Lipton comes towards him out of the dark, the scar on his cheek dark from the cold. "You seen Dike?" he asks Luz.
Luz laughs. "Right," he says.
Lipton looks aggravated, though at Dike, not Luz. "Well, if you see him, could you tell him I'm looking for him?"
"You got it," Luz says, and keeps walking the line. He wonders where Joe's gotten to, if maybe Joe would want to play the game where they see who can throw pebbles and hit a pine tree the most times.
Everybody's got logs over their holes now, so it's a little harder to see who's in each. Luz peers at them, sees Roe and Babe, Perconte and Grant. "You seen Jonas?" Luz asks Perconte.
Perconte takes the toothbrush out of his mouth. "Big or little?"
"Big," Luz says.
Perconte gestures down the line with the hand holding the toothbrush. "Think he was talking to Malark," he says.
"Thanks," Luz says, and heads in the direction of Malarkey's foxhole, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He really shouldn't be wandering around like this, since the artillery could start up again at any moment, but it gets claustrophobic, stuck in a hole in the ground for days at a time. And anyway, Joe wanted him to find him.
As he comes up to Malarkey's hole, he doesn't hear anyone talking, so he's not sure that Joe's still there. But then he hears sort of heavy breathing, and when he gets up to the hole, Malarkey and Joe are both inside. They . . . look rumpled. As Luz notes it, the processing center of his brain suddenly shuts down so it's like things are a little in slow motion, and he notes the details without being able to put them together. Malarkey finishing buttoning up his fly, Joe leaning back against the wall of the foxhole, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. Joe has a mark on his neck, turning darker by the second. Malarkey is flushed.
When Joe sees Luz, at first he just stares at him, challenging, and for a second Luz thinks he looks sort of, well, darkly triumphant. But then the look isn't there, so he probably just imagined it anyway. Joe shifts away from Malarkey, even though they weren't really touching anymore, and clears his throat. "George," he says. "Hey."
"Um," Luz says. "Hi." He doesn't know why, but it feels so much worse that Joe's calling him George, and for a second Luz feels like he's going to throw up.
Malarkey looks completely unconcerned, like nothing out of the ordinary is going on. Or nothing he can drag himself out of his grief enough to notice, anyway. It's become Malarkey's default expression, that vague shocked stare. Malarkey straightens his fatigues and crosses his arms over his chest for warmth, shivering a little bit, not looking at either Joe or Luz.
"Sorry," Luz says. "I was just, uh. Gonna see if you wanted to throw rocks at trees. Never mind." He is an idiot. A goddamn lovesick idiot, and he kind of wants to shoot himself. Rocks at the fucking trees, Jesus Christ. Of course Joe doesn't feel that way about him. He never said he did.
Suddenly as he's looking at Luz, Joe's mouth twists, like he might be about to cry despite himself, and he's had that desperate look for days, like he'd do anything. It makes sense, him and Malarkey, the two most desperate guys in these foxholes. It's probably that Luz's degree of upset wasn't enough. He should've shot Lipton if he wanted to sleep with Joe Jonas again.
Joe can't seem to say anything at all, which is maybe just as well, since Luz has to go off and crawl into a hole in the ground and with any luck, die. "See you later," Luz says, and turns back the way he came.
In his own foxhole, he puts his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his hair. His fucking heart hurts. He didn't even know he had one.
Someone else drops into his hole, but Luz can't bring himself to look and see who it is. But after a few seconds he can tell by the breathing that it's Lipton. Toccoa guys, so stupid, that you can tell by the breathing.
"You okay, Luz?" Lip asks.
"Peachy," Luz says. His voice is muffled by his hands covering his face. It's just that he's a moron and let fucking Joe Jonas break his heart, that fucking asshole.
"George," Lip says, and he sounds really genuinely worried, like he thinks Luz has finally gotten a case of battle fatigue so bad they'll have to send him back to Paris. Not that that would be so bad.
But he hates to worry Lip, especially over something this stupid, so he takes his hands off his face and sits up straight again. He tries to give Lip his normal, wiseguy smile. "Don't worry, Lip," he says. "I'm great."
Lipton looks at him for a long, long minute. "All right," he says finally. He settles down a little more, crosses his rifle over his knees. "Mind if I sit here with you for awhile?"
"Nah," Luz says and smiles at him, more genuine now. They're sitting facing each other, so their legs butt up against each other in the narrow foxhole. "You ever find Dike?" Luz asks.
Lip shakes his head disgustedly. "What's going to happen when we go down to Foy?" he says, then stops himself, like he shouldn't be talking about it. That's Lip, always watching out for the company. Luz settles down in the hole, makes himself more comfortable, trying to think about Lip instead of how Joe looked next to Malarkey, his hair rumpled like someone's fingers had been in it, his whole head sweat-damp from whatever Malarkey had been doing.
Lip talks to him in a low voice about home, about firecrackers on the Fourth of July, until finally he feels okay enough that he can sleep a little.
**
Dear Nick,
How's Europe? I'm so jealous you get to go off and have adventures while I'm stuck at home planting a Victory Garden with Daddy. Have you killed any Germans?
Look, I know we didn't leave things in the best way, but that other guy didn't mean anything to me, baby. When you get home, can we pick things up where we left off? I miss you since you've been gone.
High school's the same as always. I won the talent show singing It Had to Be You. Maybe when you get back we can work up a duet for next year.
We all miss you lots and lots.
xoxoxoxo,
Miley
**
Easy Company spends the night after Rachamps in a convent, stretched out on pews. It's strange to be indoors after so long outside -- it almost feels a little claustrophobic, having the ceiling over them instead of the stars. But it's so much warmer it's worth it.
Nick still hasn't seen Nix since the battle earlier in the day. He knows nothing probably happened to him, that he's probably just off doing his job, but he'd still like to see him, just to be sure. Snipers can get people anywhere, even if they're mostly back at battalion.
Joe stretches along the pew next to Nick, draping his legs over Nick's lap. Nick looks over to roll his eyes at him, but Joe's not even paying attention, staring vacantly into space. He hasn't been talking much lately, which is strange for him. They're both upset about Kevin, and it seems like all their friends are dead or wounded, but Joe's still being extra quiet. And something weird's going on, because even their friends who are still around, like Luz and Malarkey, seem like they're avoiding them. But every time Nick brings it up Joe changes the subject. Right now Luz is all the way across the room, sitting with his head tipped back against a pew and his eyes closed. It's lame. Nick likes Luz.
Nick rests his arms on Joe's legs and slumps back, half watching Captain Speirs finish talking to Lip as the choir sings. He wonders what Captain Nixon's doing now, when he'll get to see him next. What he'll do if Nix is hurt. He thinks about Nixon shot like one of those guys the sniper got at Foy, after they'd thought the battle was over. Thinks about shells blowing people's legs off, about Hoobler shooting the main artery in his leg, about all the things that happen in a war zone. And as he's worrying, the door opens and Nixon comes through it, clearly on an errand from battalion, as though Nick's thoughts summoned him. Oh, thank God. He's fine, not hurt at all. Nick feels a warm rush of relief.
Nixon talks to Speirs for a few minutes, clearly talking about the roster, though in voices low enough and far enough away that Nick can't make any of it out. Nick tries to pretend he's not watching, but he can't totally stop himself, his eyes forever drifting back. Finally, Nix claps Speirs on the shoulder, and Speirs turns around with some papers in hand. As he does, Nix makes eye contact with Nick over Speirs's shoulder for a long moment, his eyes very dark, and once he's sure he has Nick's attention, he just barely gestures towards the door with his head. Nick nods back, just slightly. Nix smiles a little and leaves again.
Nick makes himself count to fifteen before he pushes Joe's legs off his. "I gotta take a leak," he says when Joe protests.
Joe makes a disgusted noise. "Fine," he says. "I'll just sit here, alone. All alone."
Nick rolls his eyes at him and says, "Why don't you go sit with Luz?"
Joe almost winces, or something -- looks a little guilty, maybe. But Nick doesn't have time to think about it, because he's striding off toward the door, trying not to look like he's hurrying. His stomach's already churning; he and Nix, well, they've gotten a little bit of a routine in the last couple weeks. Outside the air is clear and cold, harsh on Nick's cheeks in the dark.
Nix is waiting outside and when he sees Nick he gestures with his head again and turns the corner of the building, going around to the side where they'll be out of sight of the door. Nick follows with a building sense of anticipation, all his nerves strung tight, the knot in his stomach so solid it feels like dread.
By the time Nick turns the corner, Nix is leaning against the wall halfway down the long side of the building, in the shadow of the eaves, waiting for him. As Nick approaches he smiles, teeth white in his dirty face.
"Hey," he says. "You're okay."
Nick feels a rush of happiness at that. Sometimes he thinks he's the only one who worries, that Nix wouldn't care that much if he did get shot. So it's nice, Nix saying stuff like that.
"You are too," Nick says.
Nix laughs a little. "Yeah, well," he says. "I'm not on the front line too much." He reaches out for Nick, palming the back of Nick's neck, his hand cool against Nick's skin. As he pulls Nick toward him, his other hand reaches up to graze his fingers over the cut healing on Nick's forehead. His eyes get dark for a second as he traces it, fingertips light on the scab. "This healing all right?" he asks.
"Yeah," Nick says, ducking his head. He reaches out and tentatively rests his hands on Nix's waist, thinking how dumb it is, after all that he and Nix have been doing all this time, to still feel daring every time he touches him. But Nix is a grown-up, and an officer, and Nick really really likes him.
Nix grins at him in the moonlight and leans in quick to kiss him, the hot slide of his mouth so familiar now Nick can fall into it without thinking, his body knowing what comes next, thrumming all over with anticipation. He and Nix have been managing to sneak off to do this every couple of days, getting away from Joe and the line and the other officers for just long enough. If they can't do it for awhile, Nick gets anxious and keyed up, twitchy, like it's an addiction and he needs it to get by. He doesn't know how he survived the sixteen years before Nix showed up, honestly.
Nix deepens the kiss, pulling Nick's hips snug up against his, and then turns him, pressing Nick's back against the wall of the building. Nix's erection grinds against Nick's, and Nick breathes in the frigid air through his nose and feels wild and awake. Nix's tongue presses against Nick's, slow and deliberate and wanting, and then he's pulling back, dropping to his knees in front of Nick, into the old crust of snow, and his hands are fumbling with Nick's fly, the glancing touches as he works the buttons making Nick moan and push forward without meaning to.
"All right, there, tiger," Nix says, laughter in his voice, and then he's working Nick's pants down over his hips, nudging his legs apart as he puts his mouth on Nick, and oh God. This feeling never seems to get less overwhelming or surprising, no matter how much Nick does it, and the sight of Nix with his mouth on him is still, well. It's still a lot to take, and as Nix's tongue moves Nick lays his hand on Nix's soft hair and lets his head roll back against the stone, closes his eyes.
Nix's hand is on Nick's balls, and then it moves farther back, pressing along the skin behind them, and then farther still, tracing Nick's asshole, pressing Nick's legs farther apart, and what, why's he doing that, what's he doing? It's intense and surprising and Nick feels a little panicky, bucks forward accidentally, not sure if he's trying to get Nix to stop or to do more. It's just -- it feels weird and unexpected but as Nix's finger circles it starts to feel good, aching, and Nick makes a strangled, desperate noise and Nix must feel him shaking because with an obscene wet noise he pulls his mouth off Nick's cock, finger still circling Nick's asshole, to look up and meet Nick's wild, confused look.
"Okay?" Nix says, looking half concerned and half a little amused, affection hovering underneath. "Nick, you all right?"
Nick makes himself take a shaky breath in and nods too fast, and says, "What are you doing?" His voice sounds weird. Nix's one hand is still at Nick's ass, the other running up and down Nick's cock now that his mouth is off it.
Nix grins his sure quick grin, his dark eyes bright. "You trust me?" he asks.
Nick nods. He does, he trusts Nix more than anybody except Joe, and he's still so turned on he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.
"Okay," Nix says, and smiles at him, a reassuring smile this time, looking Nick right in the eyes. "This'll feel good. I promise. Okay?" He pulls back the hand that had been on Nick's ass and puts his index finger in his mouth real fast, and then moves it spit-slick back where it had been.
Nick nods again, still feeling a little out of control, but safer now, trusting Nix, and then Nix's mouth is on him again, so hot and deft Nick almost doesn't think about Nix's other hand. He starts to relax, losing himself in the familiar feeling of Nix's mouth, and then Nix's wet slippery fingertip slips into Nick's asshole, and oh God, oh God, what's he doing? It's a lot of feeling, just the tip of Nix's finger there, and Nix's tongue still sliding on Nick's dick, and as Nick makes a choking noise Nix's finger presses in further, working him open. It's just -- it's not bad, it's just intense, the slight burn of Nix's finger moving in rhythm with Nix's mouth, all turning into one crazy feeling so that Nick feels like his whole body's going to shake apart. When he looks down, Nix's spare hand is pressed against Nix's own dick, getting himself off, and oh God, doing this to Nick is getting him hard, oh God, that's hot.
Nix's finger presses in even further and then unexpectedly it's touching something inside him that feels amazing, so Nick's practically seeing stars, and he's trying to keep quiet but his breath's coming loud and ragged and he keeps making embarrassing desperate noises, and Nix's tongue does that thing he likes and then he's coming, Nix swallowing it down, and Nick's never felt anything like it before, the shuddering racking his whole body, so he feels it up his spine. His legs are shaking so bad Nix's hands are about the only thing holding him upright.
It feels like it takes a long time until he's finally finished, Nix taking his mouth off him. "Oh my God," Nick says as Nix works his finger back out of him. Nick's voice is still that weird raspy sound and Nix's finger hurts a little more going out than it did going in, but after that orgasm it's not like Nick cares.
Nix grins up at him. "You like that?" he says, sitting back on his heels as Nick pulls his pants back up.
Nick's nod must look enthusiastic, because Nix laughs, looking pretty pleased with himself. He gets to his feet as Nick finishes straightening his clothes, and he's not hard anymore so he must've gotten himself off when Nick was distracted. Oh God. Nick takes in a deep contented breath and Nix puts an affectionate arm on Nick's shoulders, hand cupping the back of Nick's neck and shaking him a little bit, like Nick's a puppy or his little brother. Nick beams at him. He just likes him so much, is all.
Nix beams back and then leans in to kiss him, a light happy kiss, then another one. It starts to snow -- Nick can feel snowflakes light on his cheekbones as they melt.
As Nix pulls back, one hand still on Nick's hip, Nick hears footsteps crunching in the snow. He and Nix jerk back, but aren't quite separated before Joe comes around the corner. Oh crap, oh no, why didn't Nick think about how long he's been out here, about how Joe would come looking? He and Nix have been getting careless lately, not paying enough attention. And Nick can't look normal after all that; he feels flushed and rumpled, the aftershocks of that sex still shaking through him. Oh God, what if Joe can tell?
He hopes that maybe against all the odds Joe didn't see anything, that maybe it's too dark, but when he looks over, Joe's staring at them with wide scandalized eyes. Oh God.
"All right," Nixon says, clearing his throat. He takes a step back, clearly deciding that the best way to handle the situation is to pretend that nothing weird's going on, so Joe might think he was imagining things or something. "Thanks, private. Carry on."
"Yes, sir," Nick says. Nix puts his helmet back on and strides off, brushing past Joe as he goes. Joe hasn't moved.
Nick licks his lips and tries to keep from straightening his uniform. "Hey, Joe," he says. "What's up?" And tries to take a cue from Nixon, walking off like nothing's happened. But Joe grabs his sleeve as he tries to walk by and holds onto it.
Nick stops, his stomach sinking. But Joe doesn't say anything for a long moment, like he's been rendered completely speechless. Finally he whispers, loudly, "What are you doing?"
Oh God. Nick doesn't really have a good answer for that. He shrugs.
Joe glances over his shoulder again, after Nixon, and then back at Nick. It'd almost be funny if it wasn't so horrible. "Were you kissing Captain Nixon?" he says.
Nick shrugs again and looks away, hoping he's not blushing, hoping that Joe can't guess that they were doing anything besides kissing, can't smell anything on him. Oh God, he doesn't know what to do.
Joe doesn't seem to know what to do either -- it's maybe the first time Nick's ever seen his brother thrown so off balance. Joe opens his mouth and then closes it again, then looks over his shoulder at where Nixon disappeared, then stares at Nick again. Oh God, Nick should say something, tell him it's not what he thinks, but he can't think why else he and Captain Nixon would be standing together way too close around the side of a convent. He's never gotten into the habit of lying, so he's at a complete loss. He never thought he'd regret not being a liar.
Finally Joe says, "I mean, how long's this been going on for?" He sounds awful, upset and hurt and maybe a little angry, but lost more than anything. Oh, Nick's the worst brother in the world, making Joe sound like that, and God, every question Joe comes up with is worse than the one before.
Nick has to do something, so he finally says, "Joe. Don't tell anyone, okay? It's not . . . I mean. It's not that big a deal. Okay?" His voice sounds shaky and desperate and guilty, and oh God, what if Joe tells someone?
"Nick," Joe says, and his voice cracks a little bit. "Are you just upset about Kevin? Because people do things when they're upset, that's understandable."
"No, it's not about Kevin," Nick says. "It started way be--" He stops himself before he can finish the word, but it's too late. Oh, why would he have said that, what's wrong with him?
"Nick!" Joe says.
Nick rubs at his eyes. He's overtired, can't keep his big mouth shut. "Joe," he says. He's starting to feel really frantic. "Promise me you won't tell anybody, okay? Just -- promise."
Joe looks like he really doesn't want to, but he finally caves, sighing, and says, "Okay, I guess I promise." Joe can't ever say no to Nick, and Nick usually tries to not use that against him, but this is an emergency.
Nick hugs him, hard, and over his shoulder, looking at the bare trees and the stars beyond them, tries to think what on earth he's going to do now.
**
Part Four
Fandom: Band of Brothers/Jonas Brothers RPF
Rating: NC-17 for sexytimes
Pairings: Joe Jonas/George Luz, Nick Jonas/Lewis Nixon (in this chapter)
WARNINGS: Underage (16 years old). Older dude/younger dude. Explicit sexual content. (For this chapter; for the fic as a whole, also incest.)
Length: 7600 words (in this chapter)
Disclaimer: This is obviously incredibly fictional -- characterization of the JoBros is based mostly on my imagination, and the portrayal of the veterans is based on the miniseries, not the real people (no grandpas were harmed in the making of this fic).
Summary: The Jonas Brothers go to sexy war.
AN: The Jonas Brothers made a video set in WWII, then this happened. Visuals to help you out: Joe, Nick, Joe and Nick. fodian gets the credit/blame for the initial idea, and then miss_bennie and irishmizzy EXTREMELY EXTREMELY brainstormed this with me. The fic is dedicated to them. Also, it's super long, so I'll be posting it in parts. Previous: part one, part two, or use the tag.
**
Dear George,
Sorry this is just a postcard, but I can't get my hands on much paper right now, or much time to write anything longer, so I guess it'll have to do. Hope you're seeing more action than I am -- holding Tunisia doesn't seem very important now, with everything going on where you are. My unit ............ ....... ……. …….. ..... .......... ....... ...... ...... and I don't know what to do. I guess that's war for you.
Stay safe, okay? Mom worries.
Love,
Ed
**
"Have you seen Nick?" Joe's voice comes from directly behind Luz's foxhole, and Luz cranes his head all the way back to look at him, so he's seeing Joe upside down. It's snowing again, Joe's figure looming dark against the white, his head dangling down towards the night sky. Snowflakes land cold on Luz's cheeks and the ground's frigid against the back of his head.
"I thought he was with you," Luz says.
"Nah, he disappeared again," Joe says, and slides into Luz's foxhole. "He's been disappearing a lot lately."
"Mmm," Luz says. It is weird, considering how the Jonases always used to be together, but he can't bring himself to worry about it too much, not when he and Joe are finally alone without that third wheel along.
He likes Nick Jonas, he really does. But, well.
Joe takes his helmet off and runs his hand through his half-grown-out mohawk, ruffling it up so he looks a little bit like a baby bird. "Malarkey dared me to lick my rifle."
Luz looks at Joe's gun, black in the snowy air. "Did your tongue freeze to it?"
"Nah, I didn't do it," Joe says. He puts his helmet down next to him, his head bare. He looks younger with it off.
Luz lets out a bemused puff of air. "What?"
Joe shrugs and slumps down lower in the foxhole, squirming to make himself comfortable. "I'm growing as a person."
Luz laughs. "Okay," he says. That's weird. "Why?"
Joe shrugs again. "Well, my foot still hurts, for one thing."
"Oh yeah," Luz says, and leans his head back, looking at Joe's foot. "How is your foot, anyway?"
"Hurts," Joe says. He shifts so he can prop his boot in Luz's lap, kicking Luz in the stomach as he does it.
"Ow," Luz says, twisting away. "Goddamnit, Jonas. What, you want me to kiss it and make it better?"
Joe shrugs, smirking at him. "Maybe," he says. He looks at Luz, a long look, and then down at Luz's mouth. "Dare you to," he says.
Luz grimaces. "I'm not kissing your disgusting foot," he says.
"Scared?" Joe says.
"Yes, actually," Luz says. Somewhere down the line, someone fires some shots. He makes himself not turn to look. They've been under fire a lot more lately, ever since they advanced the line. There might be artillery, Lip said. Luz isn't looking forward to that.
"I double dog dare you," Joe says.
Luz rolls his eyes and slumps down lower in the foxhole, so he can lean his head back against the wall of it. Joe's foot butts into his stomach, the army boot hard against his gut. "I'm not kissing your foot," Luz says. "I'll kiss you anywhere else, though." He looks at Joe through half-lidded eyes, daring him to take him up on it. He's been thinking about kissing Joe again ever since Christmas, ever since the sleepy kisses they got in before little Jonas came back to be in the way.
"Anywhere?" Joe says. His eyes look bright, his whole body at alert, muscles tense.
Luz smiles at him lazily, thinking about the places he could kiss him. Before Joe showed up tonight, he'd been half asleep, his eyes almost closing, but now he's awake, aware of Joe's body, the muscles of Joe's calf under his hand.
Joe smiles back him, that light in his eyes, then pulls his foot back. He pushes himself up and forward so he's kneeling, then knee-walks over until he's finally straddling Luz's legs, sitting back on Luz's thighs.
"Anywhere," Luz says, forcing himself to stay lying back even though he wants to press forward, forcing himself to stay languid, in control, daring Joe to do something.
And whatever dares of Malarkey's he turns down, Joe takes all Luz's dares. He leans forward, puts both gloved hands on Luz's cheeks and kisses him, a deliberate, careful kiss, not much like Joe at all except for the happiness lingering underneath it, the way Joe's breath catches and Luz can feel him start to smile. Luz closes his eyes and Joe presses his tongue into Luz's mouth, cautious and slow.
The snow makes everything outside the foxhole sound a little muffled, the misty white of it thick in the night-darkness so it feels like he and Joe are in their own silent world, isolated from everything. Joe keeps kissing him, but moves his hands away for a second to fumble with his gloves. Then it's his bare hands, one on Luz's right cheek and the other on the skin of Luz's neck, naked and chapped, the gloves tossed aside. Luz moves an arm around Joe's shoulders, feeling the planes of Joe's back move, feeling Joe shiver a little bit.
Joe moves down, kissing Luz's neck, his sparse stubble scraping at Luz's skin. His hands are everywhere, scraping across Luz's chest, on Luz's hips, his thighs.
"Dare you to get in my pants," Luz mutters.
Joe laughs, but now his hands are moving across Luz's lap, pressing against his erection, finding the buttons of his fly. Luz thinks he's stopped breathing.
"Aw, piece of cake, dare me something tough," Joe says, reaching his hand in to grasp Luz's cock.
Luz gives a strangled laugh, hips jerking forward. "Asshole," he says, and groans as Joe moves his hand, sliding it along Luz's cock. The only sound in the snow-soft air is Luz's harsh breathing, the rasping glide of Joe's hand moving on him. Joe's still kneeling over him, left hand braced on Luz's chest. Luz leans his head back against the frozen wall of the foxhole and watches Joe, the concentration on his face, tongue in the corner of his mouth, focusing on what he's doing. Joe twists his hand over the head and when Luz makes a strangled sound, Joe looks up and grins.
"Slut," Joe says, his eyes laughing.
"Oh my God," Luz says, making a face at him, and he puts his hands on Joe's chest and shoves gently, pushing Joe over onto his back.
"Hey," Joe says, his hand still down Luz's pants, but now Luz is lying on top of him, looming over him. Luz pushes forward and kisses Joe again, Joe's mouth hot and his lips chapped. When Luz kisses him, Joe's hand tightens on Luz's cock, and Luz groans into his mouth.
Joe laughs, and Luz has had about enough, so he reaches down and presses the heel of his hand against Joe's erection, and then it's Joe who's groaning, bucking back against Luz, and they're thrusting against each other, bodies moving frantically and hands in the way, Joe's body a squirming mass of limbs under Luz, smirking up at Luz when he can catch his breath enough to close his mouth.
"Asshole," Luz mutters at him again affectionately, and Joe beams at him, reaching his spare hand up to the back of Luz's neck to pull his head down to kiss him again.
They kiss until they have to pull back to gasp for breath, their hips moving together to find a rhythm. Luz thinks they're breathing too loud, panting so harshly someone walking by must be able to hear, but it's not like they can stop now, not as he's getting so close, not with Joe's bare hand still in his fly, pushing against him as they rock together.
"Joe," Luz says quiet and Joe smiles at him, and outside in the sky they hear the whoosh of a shell flying over their foxhole. Luz's stomach drops the way it always does at that sound, and down the line Buck yells, "Incoming! Take cover!"
"Fuck," Joe mutters, staring up at Luz with wide scared eyes, and they should probably stop because it's horrible and awful and terrifying but Luz is so close, and he thrusts against Joe's hand once, twice more, and then he's coming, making little desperate noises, and then Joe's coming too, groaning and saying, "George," and outside another shell flies over, that deathly scream and then the blast of it, and there's Joe saying, "George," underneath.
Luz lets his head drop down onto Joe's shoulder, his heart pounding from sex and fear, and he can feel Joe's breathing, not slowing down either, and when he moves his hand up to rest on Joe's neck, he can feel Joe's pulse racing under his fingers. They should probably sit up, straighten their clothes before somebody comes by and see them, but Luz is too scared to put his head up. He can feel Joe shaking as he works his hand out of Luz's fly, and they just lie there together, Luz on Joe's chest, Joe's hand fisting in Luz's coat, and listen to the shells hit other people. It seems like it goes on for a long time.
**
Luz isn't sure how everybody hears about the Jonases' third brother getting wounded before he does, but Bill Guarnere, of all people, is the one who tells him. Kevin Jonas got hit bad in the Pacific, they don't know if he's going to make it. Bill has a little bit of a tight look to him when he tells Luz, like he's remembering his own brother. God, poor Joe, Luz thinks, but for a second he feels a surge of gratitude that it's not his own brother who got hit, and then he feels guilty, guilty like you wouldn't believe. It's a familiar feeling, after so long on the line, but that doesn't make it easier to deal with.
When Luz goes back to his foxhole, Joe's there, sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees.
"Hey," Luz says, dropping in beside him. Joe doesn't really react, like he's too shell-shocked, his eyes red-rimmed but not teary. His face is tight and controlled. "I just heard," Luz says, his voice quiet. Joe closes his eyes for a long moment, but otherwise doesn't move. He looks wrung out, and for a second Luz wishes he were the kind of guy who could talk to people when they're like this, like Lip or somebody who can say something besides lame jokes. "Where's Nick?" Luz tries.
Joe shrugs, still hugging his arms around his knees. After a long moment, he draws in a shuddering breath. "You know, our brother's probably dead already," he says, his voice low. He sounds surprisingly calm. "The letter we got was from two weeks ago, so it probably already happened."
God. What do you say to that? "I'm sorry," Luz says. He tries desperately to think of something else to say, something profound and comforting, but he can't think of a thing. Maybe there just isn't anything.
Joe clears his throat. "I keep thinking about going home," he says. "Just me and Nicky, and Kevin not there. And I just -- God. The house would just be really empty."
Luz thinks about it, about going home if his brother weren't. Without meaning to, he shudders. "Yeah," he says. Then, because he can't think of anything else to say, "How's Nick?"
Joe shrugs, his face contorting like he's scared now that if he keeps talking he'll start crying. Luz feels so helpless, he doesn't know what to do, but finally he remembers that he has one candy bar left. He fumbles in his pockets for it, holding it out to Joe.
"Chocolate?" he says.
Joe tries to smile a little bit, and takes it out of Luz's hand. He opens it right then, which he's never done when Luz's given him chocolate before, and breaks off a chunk of it to hand it back to Luz. So they sit there in his foxhole together, eating chocolate and not talking, and after a little while Luz twists around so he's sitting next to Joe, arm to arm, thigh to thigh, pressed together. He can feel the warmth of Joe's body through their thin canvas trousers, the way Joe's slumped. He's just comforting a friend, sitting this close, but he also feels good, happy, like things are only all right when they're sitting together, touching. Even if Joe's brother is dying.
After a long moment, Joe sighs a ragged desperate sigh and leans his head down onto Luz's shoulder.
**
Guarnere and Toye get torn up like nobody should be torn up, and when he and Joe walk up and see it, Luz feels a little sick, disconnected from his body, fuzzy, like he can't quite focus on anything. It all seems far away, blood on the snow, people's legs not where they should be.
Lip goes to talk to Buck, and Joe and Luz look at each other. Joe looks bad, bad, and Luz doesn't feel anything, it's strange, you'd think he'd feel something.
Suddenly Joe stares at something behind him, and Luz turns to see a figure walking out of the pine trees towards them -- it's Nick, Luz can tell from his walk, but he's been hit somehow, blood all over his face, streaming down and covering his features so he looks like something out of a nightmare. Luz can't believe he's walking, with that much blood all over him. Beside him, Joe makes a horrible strangled noise.
"What?" the bloody mess of Nick says, trotting up to them. When Luz glances at Joe, he's so pale he looks like he's about to pass out.
"Medic!" Joe screams. He sounds frantic, and Luz doesn't blame him. Doc Roe has already left, following Toye and his bloody stump of a leg.
"Jesus, Nick," Luz says. His voice is shaky. "Where're you hit?"
"What?" Nick says, and Luz watches some blood drip into his eye. Nick winces and wipes at his forehead, smearing a pale fleshy streak in the thick blood. He stares at his bloody hand when he brings it down again, like he hadn't even realized he was bleeding at all. "Oh," Nick says blankly.
"Jesus, sit down," Luz says, making Nick sit on a fallen tree and starting to dab at Nick's face with his sleeve.
Joe's still yelling for a medic, but as Luz gets some of the blood mopped away, he finds the source to be a cut at Nick's hairline, like little Jonas just got grazed by some shrapnel. Head wounds always bleed a lot, more than you'd expect. It definitely took a chunk out of Nick's forehead, but it's not bad.
"Joe," Luz says, and when Joe doesn't stop yelling, he grabs his shoulder. "Joe, it's not that bad, it's not deep."
"Medic!" Joe keeps screaming, and under Luz's hand, Joe's shaking. Doc Roe finally comes jogging back over.
"All right," he says. "Where're you hit?" And Nick's sheepishly pointing to his forehead, smears of blood still all over his face, but not as fresh, drying in flakes and smudges.
Joe stops yelling, but he's breathing like he's been running. Luz makes him sit down, shaking and pale and hyperventilating, like he's been gut-punched, like he just saw his worst fears come true. "Hey," Luz keeps saying to him, low, sitting next to him so their sides touch. "He's okay. He's fine."
Joe puts his head in his hands and tries to catch his breath. "I thought --" he chokes out, but leaves the thought unfinished. Luz knows what he means, though -- seeing the bloody figure of Nick coming out of those trees, especially when their other brother's probably dead, well. Of course you'd think. Luz puts a tentative hand up to rub Joe's back, watching Doc Roe bandage Nick up. Nick barely even looks like he felt the cut, looks more embarrassed than anything.
"God," Joe mutters. "Don't love anything in a war zone." After he says it, he glances over at Luz sharply, like he's just realized something. Luz still has his hand on Joe's back. Joe shrugs away. "Get off," he says, but his tone and his shrug are half-hearted, so Luz's hand stays. Across from them, Nick's watching from under Doc Roe's arm, and for a second, Luz lets himself imagine that it had been bad, that Joe was the only brother left, the last of the three. It's a horrible thought -- it's hard to imagine Joe as a solo act, as not one of a team, a gang. Under his hand, Joe's still shaking.
**
The onslaught of artillery keeps coming, day after day, night after night. When the shells are coming down, it feels like the whole world's exploding, dirt and snow and tree branches going everywhere, like everything's being reduced back to chaos, some primordial soup and Luz in the middle of it, trying to breathe. Muck and Penkala get blown to smithereens right in front of him, and the company feels like it's being blasted down to nothing, only a few of them still left to keep getting the shit kicked out of them by the goddamn artillery. Luz feels a little blank all the time, his muscles always tense. Even in between shell bursts you can't relax, waiting for them to start up again, and while they're going on, it feels like it'll never be quiet again. Luz just wishes he could sleep more than ten minutes at a time. Well, he wishes a lot of things, but right now that's at the top of the list.
He sits in his foxhole in between barrages, leaning his head back against the dirt, letting his mind wander. You can think about anything but what you usually think about, he tells himself sternly, but the problem with deciding not to think about something is that you immediately think about it. Don't think about a white elephant. There, now Luz's thinking about a white elephant instead of about kissing Joe Jonas. Problem solved.
Goddammit, and now he's ruined it, back to thinking about Joe. Well, it's not his fault. Joe had touched him, grinned at him, kissed him and kissed him, and Luz has done a lot of stuff, with a lot of people, but he's always gotten them out of his head afterwards. He guesses the difference is that they've never been his best friend before.
And it seems like Joe's avoiding him. Maybe it's just the shelling, how nobody can act normal, or maybe it's how Muck and Penkala were their friends and it feels empty without them, or maybe it's how the Jonases still don't know if their brother's dead or not. Maybe it was Buck finally breaking, or maybe it was seeing Nick covered in blood, but Joe's acting weird, making excuses to get away from him. And it seems like everybody else is dead or wounded, off the line, so Luz is spending a lot of time with Lip, watching him watch everybody else, watching him keep tabs on who needs to get off the line, who needs to change their socks, who needs more cover on their foxhole. It's not the same.
He shifts around in his foxhole, trying to get comfortable, but that just makes him remember Joe shifting around on top of him, and God, what's happened to him? It's so ridiculous, no matter how good Joe had been, how low his voice had sounded, how his skin had felt against Luz's.
"For fuck's sake," Luz mutters to himself, fed up, and pulls himself out of the hole to go for a walk.
Feeling like this about Joe is terrible, because it means he's always worried about him, where he is, what Luz is going to do if Joe gets hit. It's ten times the burden of just worrying about himself, and Luz wonders if Joe feels this way all the time about Nick. It's a lot to deal with; no wonder he gets that hassled look so often. God, Luz needs to get over this, it's making his life too complicated. He finds a tree to piss on, and then walks the line, looking for someone to talk to.
It's probably not that surprising that he ends up at Nick and Joe's hole. He just -- well, Joe's his best friend, whatever else Luz feels about him. Of course he wants to see him. But Nick and Joe aren't there. Probably off daring each other to run up to the German line and steal a Kraut sock or something. Luz sits in the empty foxhole and waits, shivering.
When Joe and Nick walk up, Joe winces when he sees Luz. Gosh, he knows how to make a guy feel good.
"Hey," Nick says, perfectly friendly, but Joe says, "What are you doing here?" in this aggravated tone.
"Geez," Luz says. "What'd I ever do to you?"
Joe looks at him sharply, like he's not quite sure what Luz means by that, but Luz just stares right back at him. Joe's face doesn't soften, though.
"Okay, okay," Luz says, pulling himself out of the foxhole. Joe drops into it, making himself comfortable. "I'll get out of your way."
Nick looks at him, then looks at Joe, wary, like his parents are fighting or something but he doesn't quite know what's going on. Joe just crosses his arm against his chest, leaning back against the wall of the foxhole. Luz shrugs at Nick and turns to go. Behind him, he hears the Jonases talking in lowered voices. Joe sounds angry. Luz feels cold and wraps his arms around himself, wonders what Lip's doing.
**
The next night, Joe must be getting over whatever it is, because this time when he has to leave as soon as Luz shows up, he at least tells Luz to come find him later. So that's something. Luz talks to Shifty and Liebgott and lets the snow settle in his hair and wonders how long "later" is.
When he's finally decided that it must be later by now, he goes walking down the line, peering into foxholes to try to find Joe. The second one he looks in holds Nick Jonas and Captain Nixon, of all people, sitting next to each other in the half-covered hole. Nixon's talking to Nick in a low voice, his big hand on the back of Nick's neck, and they don't look up as Luz goes by. It's funny to see Nick Jonas getting comforted by someone not Joe. They still haven't heard about their brother, and the two of them look bad all the time, stretched and thin. So it's good someone can talk to them, even if Luz didn't even know Nick knew Captain Nixon. Well, whatever.
Lipton comes towards him out of the dark, the scar on his cheek dark from the cold. "You seen Dike?" he asks Luz.
Luz laughs. "Right," he says.
Lipton looks aggravated, though at Dike, not Luz. "Well, if you see him, could you tell him I'm looking for him?"
"You got it," Luz says, and keeps walking the line. He wonders where Joe's gotten to, if maybe Joe would want to play the game where they see who can throw pebbles and hit a pine tree the most times.
Everybody's got logs over their holes now, so it's a little harder to see who's in each. Luz peers at them, sees Roe and Babe, Perconte and Grant. "You seen Jonas?" Luz asks Perconte.
Perconte takes the toothbrush out of his mouth. "Big or little?"
"Big," Luz says.
Perconte gestures down the line with the hand holding the toothbrush. "Think he was talking to Malark," he says.
"Thanks," Luz says, and heads in the direction of Malarkey's foxhole, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He really shouldn't be wandering around like this, since the artillery could start up again at any moment, but it gets claustrophobic, stuck in a hole in the ground for days at a time. And anyway, Joe wanted him to find him.
As he comes up to Malarkey's hole, he doesn't hear anyone talking, so he's not sure that Joe's still there. But then he hears sort of heavy breathing, and when he gets up to the hole, Malarkey and Joe are both inside. They . . . look rumpled. As Luz notes it, the processing center of his brain suddenly shuts down so it's like things are a little in slow motion, and he notes the details without being able to put them together. Malarkey finishing buttoning up his fly, Joe leaning back against the wall of the foxhole, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. Joe has a mark on his neck, turning darker by the second. Malarkey is flushed.
When Joe sees Luz, at first he just stares at him, challenging, and for a second Luz thinks he looks sort of, well, darkly triumphant. But then the look isn't there, so he probably just imagined it anyway. Joe shifts away from Malarkey, even though they weren't really touching anymore, and clears his throat. "George," he says. "Hey."
"Um," Luz says. "Hi." He doesn't know why, but it feels so much worse that Joe's calling him George, and for a second Luz feels like he's going to throw up.
Malarkey looks completely unconcerned, like nothing out of the ordinary is going on. Or nothing he can drag himself out of his grief enough to notice, anyway. It's become Malarkey's default expression, that vague shocked stare. Malarkey straightens his fatigues and crosses his arms over his chest for warmth, shivering a little bit, not looking at either Joe or Luz.
"Sorry," Luz says. "I was just, uh. Gonna see if you wanted to throw rocks at trees. Never mind." He is an idiot. A goddamn lovesick idiot, and he kind of wants to shoot himself. Rocks at the fucking trees, Jesus Christ. Of course Joe doesn't feel that way about him. He never said he did.
Suddenly as he's looking at Luz, Joe's mouth twists, like he might be about to cry despite himself, and he's had that desperate look for days, like he'd do anything. It makes sense, him and Malarkey, the two most desperate guys in these foxholes. It's probably that Luz's degree of upset wasn't enough. He should've shot Lipton if he wanted to sleep with Joe Jonas again.
Joe can't seem to say anything at all, which is maybe just as well, since Luz has to go off and crawl into a hole in the ground and with any luck, die. "See you later," Luz says, and turns back the way he came.
In his own foxhole, he puts his head in his hands and runs his fingers through his hair. His fucking heart hurts. He didn't even know he had one.
Someone else drops into his hole, but Luz can't bring himself to look and see who it is. But after a few seconds he can tell by the breathing that it's Lipton. Toccoa guys, so stupid, that you can tell by the breathing.
"You okay, Luz?" Lip asks.
"Peachy," Luz says. His voice is muffled by his hands covering his face. It's just that he's a moron and let fucking Joe Jonas break his heart, that fucking asshole.
"George," Lip says, and he sounds really genuinely worried, like he thinks Luz has finally gotten a case of battle fatigue so bad they'll have to send him back to Paris. Not that that would be so bad.
But he hates to worry Lip, especially over something this stupid, so he takes his hands off his face and sits up straight again. He tries to give Lip his normal, wiseguy smile. "Don't worry, Lip," he says. "I'm great."
Lipton looks at him for a long, long minute. "All right," he says finally. He settles down a little more, crosses his rifle over his knees. "Mind if I sit here with you for awhile?"
"Nah," Luz says and smiles at him, more genuine now. They're sitting facing each other, so their legs butt up against each other in the narrow foxhole. "You ever find Dike?" Luz asks.
Lip shakes his head disgustedly. "What's going to happen when we go down to Foy?" he says, then stops himself, like he shouldn't be talking about it. That's Lip, always watching out for the company. Luz settles down in the hole, makes himself more comfortable, trying to think about Lip instead of how Joe looked next to Malarkey, his hair rumpled like someone's fingers had been in it, his whole head sweat-damp from whatever Malarkey had been doing.
Lip talks to him in a low voice about home, about firecrackers on the Fourth of July, until finally he feels okay enough that he can sleep a little.
**
Dear Nick,
How's Europe? I'm so jealous you get to go off and have adventures while I'm stuck at home planting a Victory Garden with Daddy. Have you killed any Germans?
Look, I know we didn't leave things in the best way, but that other guy didn't mean anything to me, baby. When you get home, can we pick things up where we left off? I miss you since you've been gone.
High school's the same as always. I won the talent show singing It Had to Be You. Maybe when you get back we can work up a duet for next year.
We all miss you lots and lots.
xoxoxoxo,
Miley
**
Easy Company spends the night after Rachamps in a convent, stretched out on pews. It's strange to be indoors after so long outside -- it almost feels a little claustrophobic, having the ceiling over them instead of the stars. But it's so much warmer it's worth it.
Nick still hasn't seen Nix since the battle earlier in the day. He knows nothing probably happened to him, that he's probably just off doing his job, but he'd still like to see him, just to be sure. Snipers can get people anywhere, even if they're mostly back at battalion.
Joe stretches along the pew next to Nick, draping his legs over Nick's lap. Nick looks over to roll his eyes at him, but Joe's not even paying attention, staring vacantly into space. He hasn't been talking much lately, which is strange for him. They're both upset about Kevin, and it seems like all their friends are dead or wounded, but Joe's still being extra quiet. And something weird's going on, because even their friends who are still around, like Luz and Malarkey, seem like they're avoiding them. But every time Nick brings it up Joe changes the subject. Right now Luz is all the way across the room, sitting with his head tipped back against a pew and his eyes closed. It's lame. Nick likes Luz.
Nick rests his arms on Joe's legs and slumps back, half watching Captain Speirs finish talking to Lip as the choir sings. He wonders what Captain Nixon's doing now, when he'll get to see him next. What he'll do if Nix is hurt. He thinks about Nixon shot like one of those guys the sniper got at Foy, after they'd thought the battle was over. Thinks about shells blowing people's legs off, about Hoobler shooting the main artery in his leg, about all the things that happen in a war zone. And as he's worrying, the door opens and Nixon comes through it, clearly on an errand from battalion, as though Nick's thoughts summoned him. Oh, thank God. He's fine, not hurt at all. Nick feels a warm rush of relief.
Nixon talks to Speirs for a few minutes, clearly talking about the roster, though in voices low enough and far enough away that Nick can't make any of it out. Nick tries to pretend he's not watching, but he can't totally stop himself, his eyes forever drifting back. Finally, Nix claps Speirs on the shoulder, and Speirs turns around with some papers in hand. As he does, Nix makes eye contact with Nick over Speirs's shoulder for a long moment, his eyes very dark, and once he's sure he has Nick's attention, he just barely gestures towards the door with his head. Nick nods back, just slightly. Nix smiles a little and leaves again.
Nick makes himself count to fifteen before he pushes Joe's legs off his. "I gotta take a leak," he says when Joe protests.
Joe makes a disgusted noise. "Fine," he says. "I'll just sit here, alone. All alone."
Nick rolls his eyes at him and says, "Why don't you go sit with Luz?"
Joe almost winces, or something -- looks a little guilty, maybe. But Nick doesn't have time to think about it, because he's striding off toward the door, trying not to look like he's hurrying. His stomach's already churning; he and Nix, well, they've gotten a little bit of a routine in the last couple weeks. Outside the air is clear and cold, harsh on Nick's cheeks in the dark.
Nix is waiting outside and when he sees Nick he gestures with his head again and turns the corner of the building, going around to the side where they'll be out of sight of the door. Nick follows with a building sense of anticipation, all his nerves strung tight, the knot in his stomach so solid it feels like dread.
By the time Nick turns the corner, Nix is leaning against the wall halfway down the long side of the building, in the shadow of the eaves, waiting for him. As Nick approaches he smiles, teeth white in his dirty face.
"Hey," he says. "You're okay."
Nick feels a rush of happiness at that. Sometimes he thinks he's the only one who worries, that Nix wouldn't care that much if he did get shot. So it's nice, Nix saying stuff like that.
"You are too," Nick says.
Nix laughs a little. "Yeah, well," he says. "I'm not on the front line too much." He reaches out for Nick, palming the back of Nick's neck, his hand cool against Nick's skin. As he pulls Nick toward him, his other hand reaches up to graze his fingers over the cut healing on Nick's forehead. His eyes get dark for a second as he traces it, fingertips light on the scab. "This healing all right?" he asks.
"Yeah," Nick says, ducking his head. He reaches out and tentatively rests his hands on Nix's waist, thinking how dumb it is, after all that he and Nix have been doing all this time, to still feel daring every time he touches him. But Nix is a grown-up, and an officer, and Nick really really likes him.
Nix grins at him in the moonlight and leans in quick to kiss him, the hot slide of his mouth so familiar now Nick can fall into it without thinking, his body knowing what comes next, thrumming all over with anticipation. He and Nix have been managing to sneak off to do this every couple of days, getting away from Joe and the line and the other officers for just long enough. If they can't do it for awhile, Nick gets anxious and keyed up, twitchy, like it's an addiction and he needs it to get by. He doesn't know how he survived the sixteen years before Nix showed up, honestly.
Nix deepens the kiss, pulling Nick's hips snug up against his, and then turns him, pressing Nick's back against the wall of the building. Nix's erection grinds against Nick's, and Nick breathes in the frigid air through his nose and feels wild and awake. Nix's tongue presses against Nick's, slow and deliberate and wanting, and then he's pulling back, dropping to his knees in front of Nick, into the old crust of snow, and his hands are fumbling with Nick's fly, the glancing touches as he works the buttons making Nick moan and push forward without meaning to.
"All right, there, tiger," Nix says, laughter in his voice, and then he's working Nick's pants down over his hips, nudging his legs apart as he puts his mouth on Nick, and oh God. This feeling never seems to get less overwhelming or surprising, no matter how much Nick does it, and the sight of Nix with his mouth on him is still, well. It's still a lot to take, and as Nix's tongue moves Nick lays his hand on Nix's soft hair and lets his head roll back against the stone, closes his eyes.
Nix's hand is on Nick's balls, and then it moves farther back, pressing along the skin behind them, and then farther still, tracing Nick's asshole, pressing Nick's legs farther apart, and what, why's he doing that, what's he doing? It's intense and surprising and Nick feels a little panicky, bucks forward accidentally, not sure if he's trying to get Nix to stop or to do more. It's just -- it feels weird and unexpected but as Nix's finger circles it starts to feel good, aching, and Nick makes a strangled, desperate noise and Nix must feel him shaking because with an obscene wet noise he pulls his mouth off Nick's cock, finger still circling Nick's asshole, to look up and meet Nick's wild, confused look.
"Okay?" Nix says, looking half concerned and half a little amused, affection hovering underneath. "Nick, you all right?"
Nick makes himself take a shaky breath in and nods too fast, and says, "What are you doing?" His voice sounds weird. Nix's one hand is still at Nick's ass, the other running up and down Nick's cock now that his mouth is off it.
Nix grins his sure quick grin, his dark eyes bright. "You trust me?" he asks.
Nick nods. He does, he trusts Nix more than anybody except Joe, and he's still so turned on he doesn't quite know what to do with himself.
"Okay," Nix says, and smiles at him, a reassuring smile this time, looking Nick right in the eyes. "This'll feel good. I promise. Okay?" He pulls back the hand that had been on Nick's ass and puts his index finger in his mouth real fast, and then moves it spit-slick back where it had been.
Nick nods again, still feeling a little out of control, but safer now, trusting Nix, and then Nix's mouth is on him again, so hot and deft Nick almost doesn't think about Nix's other hand. He starts to relax, losing himself in the familiar feeling of Nix's mouth, and then Nix's wet slippery fingertip slips into Nick's asshole, and oh God, oh God, what's he doing? It's a lot of feeling, just the tip of Nix's finger there, and Nix's tongue still sliding on Nick's dick, and as Nick makes a choking noise Nix's finger presses in further, working him open. It's just -- it's not bad, it's just intense, the slight burn of Nix's finger moving in rhythm with Nix's mouth, all turning into one crazy feeling so that Nick feels like his whole body's going to shake apart. When he looks down, Nix's spare hand is pressed against Nix's own dick, getting himself off, and oh God, doing this to Nick is getting him hard, oh God, that's hot.
Nix's finger presses in even further and then unexpectedly it's touching something inside him that feels amazing, so Nick's practically seeing stars, and he's trying to keep quiet but his breath's coming loud and ragged and he keeps making embarrassing desperate noises, and Nix's tongue does that thing he likes and then he's coming, Nix swallowing it down, and Nick's never felt anything like it before, the shuddering racking his whole body, so he feels it up his spine. His legs are shaking so bad Nix's hands are about the only thing holding him upright.
It feels like it takes a long time until he's finally finished, Nix taking his mouth off him. "Oh my God," Nick says as Nix works his finger back out of him. Nick's voice is still that weird raspy sound and Nix's finger hurts a little more going out than it did going in, but after that orgasm it's not like Nick cares.
Nix grins up at him. "You like that?" he says, sitting back on his heels as Nick pulls his pants back up.
Nick's nod must look enthusiastic, because Nix laughs, looking pretty pleased with himself. He gets to his feet as Nick finishes straightening his clothes, and he's not hard anymore so he must've gotten himself off when Nick was distracted. Oh God. Nick takes in a deep contented breath and Nix puts an affectionate arm on Nick's shoulders, hand cupping the back of Nick's neck and shaking him a little bit, like Nick's a puppy or his little brother. Nick beams at him. He just likes him so much, is all.
Nix beams back and then leans in to kiss him, a light happy kiss, then another one. It starts to snow -- Nick can feel snowflakes light on his cheekbones as they melt.
As Nix pulls back, one hand still on Nick's hip, Nick hears footsteps crunching in the snow. He and Nix jerk back, but aren't quite separated before Joe comes around the corner. Oh crap, oh no, why didn't Nick think about how long he's been out here, about how Joe would come looking? He and Nix have been getting careless lately, not paying enough attention. And Nick can't look normal after all that; he feels flushed and rumpled, the aftershocks of that sex still shaking through him. Oh God, what if Joe can tell?
He hopes that maybe against all the odds Joe didn't see anything, that maybe it's too dark, but when he looks over, Joe's staring at them with wide scandalized eyes. Oh God.
"All right," Nixon says, clearing his throat. He takes a step back, clearly deciding that the best way to handle the situation is to pretend that nothing weird's going on, so Joe might think he was imagining things or something. "Thanks, private. Carry on."
"Yes, sir," Nick says. Nix puts his helmet back on and strides off, brushing past Joe as he goes. Joe hasn't moved.
Nick licks his lips and tries to keep from straightening his uniform. "Hey, Joe," he says. "What's up?" And tries to take a cue from Nixon, walking off like nothing's happened. But Joe grabs his sleeve as he tries to walk by and holds onto it.
Nick stops, his stomach sinking. But Joe doesn't say anything for a long moment, like he's been rendered completely speechless. Finally he whispers, loudly, "What are you doing?"
Oh God. Nick doesn't really have a good answer for that. He shrugs.
Joe glances over his shoulder again, after Nixon, and then back at Nick. It'd almost be funny if it wasn't so horrible. "Were you kissing Captain Nixon?" he says.
Nick shrugs again and looks away, hoping he's not blushing, hoping that Joe can't guess that they were doing anything besides kissing, can't smell anything on him. Oh God, he doesn't know what to do.
Joe doesn't seem to know what to do either -- it's maybe the first time Nick's ever seen his brother thrown so off balance. Joe opens his mouth and then closes it again, then looks over his shoulder at where Nixon disappeared, then stares at Nick again. Oh God, Nick should say something, tell him it's not what he thinks, but he can't think why else he and Captain Nixon would be standing together way too close around the side of a convent. He's never gotten into the habit of lying, so he's at a complete loss. He never thought he'd regret not being a liar.
Finally Joe says, "I mean, how long's this been going on for?" He sounds awful, upset and hurt and maybe a little angry, but lost more than anything. Oh, Nick's the worst brother in the world, making Joe sound like that, and God, every question Joe comes up with is worse than the one before.
Nick has to do something, so he finally says, "Joe. Don't tell anyone, okay? It's not . . . I mean. It's not that big a deal. Okay?" His voice sounds shaky and desperate and guilty, and oh God, what if Joe tells someone?
"Nick," Joe says, and his voice cracks a little bit. "Are you just upset about Kevin? Because people do things when they're upset, that's understandable."
"No, it's not about Kevin," Nick says. "It started way be--" He stops himself before he can finish the word, but it's too late. Oh, why would he have said that, what's wrong with him?
"Nick!" Joe says.
Nick rubs at his eyes. He's overtired, can't keep his big mouth shut. "Joe," he says. He's starting to feel really frantic. "Promise me you won't tell anybody, okay? Just -- promise."
Joe looks like he really doesn't want to, but he finally caves, sighing, and says, "Okay, I guess I promise." Joe can't ever say no to Nick, and Nick usually tries to not use that against him, but this is an emergency.
Nick hugs him, hard, and over his shoulder, looking at the bare trees and the stars beyond them, tries to think what on earth he's going to do now.
**
Part Four