FIC: Sad Songs to Keep Me Awake, part 4
Is this the dirtiest thing I have ever ever written? Yes yes yes yes yes. Uh, I'm embarrassed. Please don't judge me.
Title: Sad Songs to Keep Me Awake, part 4
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: 8500 words (in this chapter; so far the whole fic is like 30,000 total, whaaaat am I doing with my life)
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, part three, or use the tag.
**
Dear Joe,
Well, the hospital's pretty lame, but they keep telling me I should be glad to be alive. I am, too. Being alive is pretty great, have you ever noticed? Even when your leg's half shot off. They give me a lot of morphine, it's pretty nice.
What happened was, my unit was ............ ....... ....... ......... ..... .......... ....... ...... ...... ........ ......... ..... ............. ..... ....... ........ and then we ............ ....... ....... ........ ..... .......... until the enemy ............ ..... .......... ....... ...... ...... and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital and they told me I'd been unconscious for like three days or something and everybody thought I was going to die but then I didn't.
Anyway, I can see a lot of birds out my window, and they're sending me home to New Jersey pretty soon, so I'm pretty excited. Also they give me a lot of morphine. It's pretty nice. Mom's going to make me tuna casserole when I get back. I miss you guys. I hope you come home soon too, but try not to almost die first, okay? It's not as fun as it sounds.
Love,
Kevin
**
Joe's kept his promise to Nick and hasn't told anybody about him and Captain Nixon. It's pretty easy, since oh, Muck and Penkala are dead, and Luz isn't speaking to him, and since Joe's avoiding Malarkey in the hopes that Luz is going to stop being mad at him any time now. He wouldn't want to screw that up by, like, Luz seeing them together or whatever, so he doesn't risk it -- he'd feel bad about the avoidance, but Malarkey doesn't seem to mind. Joe's not totally sure that Malarkey's noticed, to be honest.
Finding out Kevin's going to be okay felt like it brought Joe back to himself, like he'd been half out of his mind for the time he thought Kevin was dead, not really clear on what he'd been doing. But then they hear about Kevin, and in the meantime they've moved out of the Ardennes like the war's turned a corner and Nick's okay and Kevin's okay and Joe himself is fine, and instead of sitting through shelling thinking about how maybe he'll be the only one to make it home, Joe starts to feel like maybe they'll all make it through after all.
Everything would be great, except now that he's back to himself, he really wishes he hadn't done that to Luz. It was a dumb idea anyway, a half-crazy idea, thinking that blowing Malarkey would solve any of his problems. Because sure, not caring about Luz would make his life easier, but what he didn't think through was the sort of obvious fact that Luz catching him with Malarkey might make Luz stop liking Joe, but it wouldn't actually do anything about how Joe feels about Luz. Joe is an idiot, an idiot who's still sort of in love with George Luz even though Luz hates him now. He's still terrified Luz'll get hurt, but he's also lonely and not getting laid and kicking himself for being a freaking moron, so it's like he has all the bad parts of liking somebody but none of the good ones. Someone should just put him out of his misery already.
And to top it all off, he made Luz stop speaking to him right when he desperately needs to talk to somebody, because he's just found out that his little brother is being exploited by some guy way older than him, some officer who thinks he can do whatever he wants. Joe's just -- really not okay with it, and the more he thinks about it the more he'd like to hit Captain Nixon right in his perverted face. Nick is Joe's baby brother, and people are supposed to treat him right, treat him like he's the amazing kid he is. Not like some kid who doesn't matter, that you can do whatever you want with.
Joe knows it's just getting worse in his head as he obsesses about it, going around and around until all he can think about is Nick kissing Nixon, about Nixon's hands on him, all the ways Nixon might be touching him, until he feels like maybe he'd like to kill anything handy, German prisoners, whatever. He desperately needs to talk to Luz about it -- Luz knows all about everything, how Joe has to protect Nick, how Joe feels responsible. Luz could help him figure out what to do, and it's monstrously unfair of Luz to stop talking to Joe right when Joe needs him. Even if it is all Joe's own fault.
It's frigid, snow coming down on the miserable convoy inching along the frozen roads, driving them to Alsace so slow a guy walking beside the trucks goes faster. Joe bounces along on one side of the long truck carrying first platoon, all the way up behind the cab, and Luz sits way at other end of the truck, as far away from Joe as he can get. A few weeks ago, Luz would've been laughing and talking to the guy next to him, joking and keeping everybody entertained, but now Luz just sits listless, staring into space and looking miserable. Which is maybe just as well, since no one's been in an exactly festive mood since Bastogne, but still, it's depressing. Joe keeps trying to catch his eye, but Luz won't ever look at him.
Nick bounces along next to Joe, not saying much, but when Joe glances over, Nick's sort of smiling to himself, like he has a little happy secret. For a second Joe's confused -- they're all cold and sore and miserable and going back to the front line, so what in the world is Nick smiling about? And then he's hit by the horrible thought that maybe Nick's smiling about Captain Nixon, and even though it's probably not true, even though he's probably overreacting, just the thought of it puts Joe into an even fouler mood than he was already in, and he goes back to fruitlessly trying to catch Luz's eye.
In the middle of the afternoon, Luz jumps off the truck to take a leak, and when Joe shoves his hand in his pocket and hits a Hershey bar he gets an idea. Giving Luz a candy bar is a little bit like taking coals to Newcastle, but he's got to do something, got to apologize somehow, and it's all he has. So he gets up and makes his way down the truck while Luz is otherwise occupied, leaving the candy bar on Luz's empty seat. Grant, who's sitting next to Luz, gives Joe a weird look.
"That's for Luz," Joe says. "Don't steal it."
Grant looks incredibly disinterested. "Fine," he says, rolling his eyes.
Joe sits back down and watches a few minutes later as Luz pulls himself up onto the truck. Luz sees the chocolate and stops, confused, picking it up as he sits down. Joe can see him say something to Grant, but they're far enough apart and the truck's loud enough that he can't hear what they're saying. Grant says something to Luz, and gestures down towards Joe with his head.
Luz looks at Joe for a long, long moment, really looks at him for the first time in ages. Luz looks completely gutted, actually, and that look makes Joe feel like the biggest heel on the face of the planet, like someone thoughtless and despicable and small. And then, as Joe thinks he feels the worst he can possibly feel, Luz turns away and hands the chocolate to Grant, looking like he's telling him to take it, pointing around to the other guys sitting near them. Grant shrugs and smiles and takes the candy, breaking it into pieces and sharing it out among the guys sitting around him. When Grant offers Luz a piece, Luz turns it down.
Luz slumps back and crosses his arms across his chest, still looking unhappy. He glances over at Joe again, but when he sees Joe looking at him, he looks away.
Joe feels a little bit like he wants to die. Nick, who's been watching this whole drama go down, starts to put his arm around Joe, but that just makes Joe feel worse, and he shrugs Nick off. He deserves to be miserable anyway -- this is all his own stupid fault.
**
Joe spends the rest of the two days on the road trying desperately not to think about Luz, and not to think about Nick and Nixon together, but it's two long days with nothing to do but brood and to notice Nick disappearing from wherever they're billeted for longer than it takes to take a leak. So he's not very successful at it, to say the least, which is maybe understandable since there's only so many hours of the day anyone can think about lunch. And Nick keeps coming back from his disappearing act flushed and happy and disheveled, and Joe feels a little more livid and helpless and miserable every time. He just looks at Nick, hoping Nick will realize on his own this is a terrible idea, but Nick's either gotten really good at ignoring him, or Nick barely even sees him anymore. Either way it's depressing.
By the time they get to Hagenau, Joe's hoping that the Krauts get him already, because he can't stand much more of this. In the house where they put first platoon, he claims the bunk under Nick's, so at least he'll know if Nick's sneaking out. Whether or not that's a good thing. Aaaand Nick seems to have disappeared again.
That's it, he has to find Luz and try to apologize. Make him listen. Something. He can't seem to solve this Nick thing -- at least he can't think of any way to stop it right now, though he will soon, he's sure of it -- but he can at least make Luz be his friend again. Probably. So he shoves his hands in his pockets and heads out to see if Luz is at CP or something. He's only halfway there when he sees Luz on the street, carrying a box of what's probably cigarettes and chocolate bars.
When Luz sees him his face shifts a little, sad and closed off, and he looks away, pretending that he didn't see Joe. And that's it, that's enough of that -- Joe goes straight for him. But Luz, trying to avoid him, keeps veering away until finally Joe's herded him into the shade of a building, Luz's eyelashes dark against his cheeks when he looks down.
"Aww, c'mon, Joe," Luz says, not looking at him but trapped against the side of the building so he can't get by. "I gotta get this stuff over to OP 2."
"I know," Joe says. "Just -- I really need to talk to you, okay?"
"I don't really think we have anything to talk about," Luz says, and starts to push past him.
Joe finally loses his temper and fists his hand in the front of Luz's uniform so he can't walk away, looking at him on the verge of angry tears. It's embarrassing, how Joe can't say anything because his throat's all choked up, so he just has to look at Luz for a long second while he tries to get it together and Luz looks back with his dark eyes wide open, like something's just become clear to him.
"Look," Joe finally chokes out. "I'm sorry, George, are you ever going to forgive me? I didn't mean it."
Luz swallows. Joe's still holding onto the front of his coat. "Sorry about what?" Luz mutters, like he wants to pretend he doesn't know what Joe's talking about. He looks away, but his face is open now, vulnerable, and Joe's just missed him, so much.
"You know what," Joe says, and as Luz's face softens, a shell screams overhead.
"Shit," Luz mutters as they both dive out of the way, but Joe doesn't move quite fast enough and when the shell explodes he feels a hot burst of pain high on his left arm, and another on his cheekbone. He keeps scrambling to get out of the street, following Luz to huddle in a doorway. His heart's pounding.
He and Luz are standing really close together in the doorway, so he can hear Luz's harsh breathing, and then Luz sees his arm. "Oh, for Christ's sake, you're bleeding," Luz says.
Joe glances at the blood soaking through his sleeve and wrinkles his nose. Fuck, that's annoying. Also it hurts. He wipes at the sharp pain on his face and his hand comes back bloody from there too.
"Medic," Luz calls. "Medic!" Joe can tell he's trying to sound calm, but he's actually gone a little pale under the grime on his face, and maybe Luz still cares about him after all.
Luz starts to push him to sit down, and Joe lets him do it. Luz's hands are gentle on his shoulders, his thumb rubbing against Joe's neck, and well, Luz touching him again. It's okay, especially when Luz looks as concerned as he does. He's actually looking right at Joe, staring into his face. "Joe, you okay? Stay with me."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Joe says. He's almost a little embarrassed -- it's so stupid, he should've moved faster, not been distracted by how badly he wanted to make it up to Luz.
"Okay," Luz says, and pats his shoulder a couple times quick, crouched in front of Joe, keeping his hands on Joe's shoulders to steady himself.
No other shells have come down, and finally Eugene Roe comes jogging up with his kit, crouching next to Joe.
"Hey, Doc," Luz says, moving back to give Roe space, and then Doc's ripping Joe's sleeve to get at the wound, and before Joe knows it he's half patched up and being put in a jeep to get sent back to the aid station. Which is ridiculous -- he doesn't want to go back to the aid station, he's fine. He has to stay with Luz, and with Nick.
He's just explaining to Doc that he's fine, trying to get out of the jeep again, when Luz puts his hand on Joe's chest -- Joe's stomach drops a little -- and pushes Joe back into the jeep. "Don't be an idiot," he says, sounding like himself again, the way he used to talk to Joe. "I know you can't help it, but try, for once, you dumb bastard." Joe looks at him, not knowing if he wants to cry or laugh. Luz says to Roe, "Here, I'll take him back, Doc," and climbs in the jeep after Joe, sitting in the back next to him.
Doc nods. "Good," he says, already half distracted. Somewhere in the distance, someone yells for a medic and he's trotting off again, not looking back as the jeep drives off.
Joe's arm's really starting to hurt, bouncing along in the army jeep, but Luz is next to him, his side hot against Joe's, and he keeps glancing over like he's really worried Joe's secretly not okay, and Joe actually feels better than he has in awhile. He kind of bumps Luz with his good shoulder and Luz smiles.
At the aid station, Luz sits and watches as Joe gets the shrapnel taken out, and when Joe winces, trying not to yell at how bad it hurts, Luz actually reaches over and grabs his hand. It's just something any army buddy would do, letting you hold onto something, but Joe's so surprised and happy he forgets about the pain and stares at Luz, eyes wide. Luz smiles a little bit and looks away, down at their hands. He holds onto Joe through the wound getting cleaned out and stitched up, and then through the couple more stitches put in Joe's cheekbone, their fingers intertwined.
As the medic's finishing up, he looks at Luz. "You gonna stay with him for a little while?"
Joe holds his breath until Luz nods. "Yeah, looks like it," he says. Oh man, Luz staying with him, that's fantastic. Maybe he's going to forgive him after all.
The medic hands Luz a couple pills, and Luz lets go of Joe's hand to take them. "Give these to him in two hours, for the pain. All right?"
"Sure," Luz says. Joe thinks maybe he's beaming at Luz, but he can't seem to stop. Luz glances over at him, catching the smile, and shakes his head a little bit, looking wry. And God, it's nice to have Luz actually looking at him again, like he exists. Joe didn't know how much that had been wearing on him.
Joe's been put on a cot right up against the back wall, so he and Luz twist to sit next to each other like the cot's a bench, leaning back against the wall, close enough that their sides are touching, warm and alive in the chill of the aid station.
"Well, I hope you're happy," Luz says, but in a tone like you'd say it to one of your brothers, where you're talking like you're annoyed but it's mostly all a sham. There's too much affection underneath it to be actually annoyed. "You're the only goddamn son of a bitch I know who'd get himself wounded to get out of the rest of an apology."
Joe laughs, relieved and happy, hardly even believing things might be okay. "Worked, didn't it?"
Luz lets out an amused breath through his nose and he reaches over to trace the edges of the stitches on Joe's face. "You're going to have a scar."
Joe goes still at the feeling of Luz's fingertips grazing his face. He swallows, then says, "Think I'll look like a badass?"
"You?" Luz says and laughs. "Nah, you're too much of a goddamn puppy dog to ever look badass."
Joe should feign offense at this, but he can't quite bring himself to do anything but laugh a little. He's too happy, keeps laughing 'cause he can't help it. After the bubble of laughter gets out, though, he feels quieter. A silence settles in between them, but an okay one, a one like things are maybe all right. "I missed you," he says in a low voice, risking it. He feels like a baby saying something like that, but he can't stop himself -- this has been the worst week of his life.
"Yeah," Luz says, quiet.
"I really am sorry," Joe says. He drops his voice to a whisper, even though there's no one too close to them. "I only ever really wanted you."
Luz takes in a deep breath, holding it and letting it out slow, closing his eyes for a long moment. His eyelashes really are something. "Really?" Luz says.
"Scout's honor," Joe says.
Luz rolls his eyes. "You were never a boyscout."
"Was too!" Joe says. "You want to see my merit badges?"
"Please," Luz says, getting out a cigarette and sticking it in his mouth as he paws through his pockets for a lighter. "Any decent scout troop leader would've kicked you out the first time you set something on fire just to see what would happen."
They're back to normal. Joe wants to grab Luz and kiss him, run around the room kissing everybody, do a dance on the radiator. But instead he bickers with Luz about his knot-tying merit badge, trying not to smile too big. Eventually he lets Luz make him lie down because he's wounded, even though he feels fine. It's nice, Luz fussing over him in that bracing way, pulling a blanket up over him. And an hour later he finally brings himself to tell Luz about what he saw Nick doing at Rachamps.
**
Dear Lewis,
I've been sorry not to hear from you more. I'm sending this package in hopes it finds you well, and that these things can be of use to you there. Do write when you can -- I know you're busy, but I like to tell your daughter about you, and when months go by without any word, I worry that she'll forget she has a father.
Isn't it strange, when people are far away? I begin to wonder if I can really remember what you look like, or if I'm just remembering photographs while the reality fades. We never had much time together, did we? And we were so young. It feels like the wedding was at least three lifetimes ago, like it happened to two entirely different people.
Be careful, there.
Yours,
Kathy
**
Somehow, miraculously, nothing has come of Nick's brother seeing them that night in Rachamps. Nick says his brother promised not to tell, and he seems pretty sure his brother really won't, but God, Nix has done nothing but dream of court-martials ever since. If he were smart, he'd cut this out, go cold turkey on Nick Jonas, but if he were smart he'd cut a lot of things out, maybe starting with the drinking, and yet here he is, drunk as usual, with Nick Jonas as usual. And he can't help feeling indestructible and a little reckless, like he's leading a charmed existence where he can practically get caught with his mouth on a sixteen-year-old's dick, him a captain in the US paratroops, and go on like nothing's happened. Like he almost wants to see what'll happen if he keeps going, if he keeps drinking and keeps blowing the kid, like he's daring someone to notice. He doesn't know who.
Sometimes when he's really drunk, he wonders if the dreams about court-martials are nightmares or wish-fulfillment, but that's crazy, wondering that. Anyway, it doesn't matter, because he doesn't have the willpower to give up the kid even if he wanted to. It turns out he really likes the sixteen-year-old, which is a little embarrassing, but there it is.
He's beginning to get the uncomfortable feeling that Dick knows exactly what's going on, though. Not that he's said much -- when does Dick ever say much. But once, as Nick was walking away from the two of them, Dick had said, all quiet, almost wistful, "Watch yourself, there." And God, Nix hates the way Dick notices everything sometimes, like Dick can X-ray the contents of his head any time he wants, so easily reading all the looks Nix gives Nick when Nix isn't even aware of them himself. Dick's at least stopped being cold and distant with Nix like he's trying to make him shape up. But now he's always walking around looking at Nix like he's really concerned, like he's paying attention to whether Nix is eating enough, whether he seems happy. Even worse, paying attention to whether Nick seems happy, and God, seeing Dick in the distance, being solicitous and talking to Nick like he's checking up on him -- well, it makes Nix feel a little sick to his stomach. Sometimes Nix just wishes he weren't the guy messing around with the innocent kid, showing the kid how to get a dishonorable discharge. It must be easier to live with yourself when you're the stand-up guy worrying about the kid who someone else is messing with.
Anyway, the whole thing's a disaster. He knows that. He doesn't need Dick to point it out to him. Or Nick's brother, who glares at him every time he sees him lately, which luckily isn't often. He can beat himself up enough without their help.
In Hagenau, he and Dick are the only ones billeted in their house, even though it's a big one. Nix chose the master bedroom, the one with the lock on the door and the double bed, for obvious reasons. Dick chose a room a floor up and on the other side of the house, and Nix almost wonders if he did that on purpose, the room far enough away so he won't hear anything Nix chooses to do. Dick -- well, he keeps giving Nix those looks. It'd be like him to give Nix space to do this, the same way he gives him space to drink, space in his footlocker. Nix doesn't really know if that's a good move, but that's Dick. He lets you do what you want, but he watches carefully, always those eyes on you, soberly assessing. Like the eyes of God or something, and in between the hot bursts of shame Nix gets when Dick catches him looking at the kid, he actually doesn't mind that much. One thing, someone watching you like that, it's like what you do matters. It's okay to matter to someone, Nix guesses, even if they just watch you be a fuck-up all the time.
Well, anyway, maybe that's not why Dick chose the room. Maybe he just likes it because it's so spartan, only a desk and a hard narrow bed. That'd be like him too.
But with Dick at the other end of the house, and Nick's brother slightly wounded and back at the aid station, well, things are all right, at least for tonight. Nix told Nick's platoon leader that he wanted him for an orderly for the next couple days, and that's how Nix and Nick can be sprawled out on this bed together, mostly naked with the door locked, safely private for maybe the first time. On a bed for definitely the first time. Nick had run his hands over the sheets and said, "I've never done this on a bed before." And oh God, most of the time Nix can forget how completely inexperienced the kid is, how he's never done anything but what he's done with Nix, but then he says things like that, and Jesus Christ. Your first time shouldn't be with your feet frozen off in foxholes, with dirty tree roots digging into your back. Your first time in a bed shouldn't be in some bombed out house in Hagenau, with -- granted -- an intact roof, but with bullet holes in the walls and some of the windows blasted out.
But nobody should have to do anything in foxholes, really. Shouldn't have to shoot people there any more than they should have to have sex there. But here they all are.
The bed does feel a little strange after all that time out of doors, though. A bizarre luxury, almost too soft, all that space to lounge around on, blankets and clean sheets. Nick's all freshly clean from the lukewarm water of the showers outside, too, and it's strange to smell soap instead of just Nick himself, strange to see him with clean hair. Strange to feel vaguely civilized again.
They've just finished getting each other off, and Nix is mostly sitting up against the pillows, Nick lying on his back next to him with his head on Nix's thigh. Nix has his hand in Nick's hair, messing with it a little bit as they lounge comfortably in the afterglow. It's late, everyone's asleep and they can take their time for once. Just a little longer. Nix feels sleepy and satisfied, and can feel his eyes half closing as he leans his head back against the headboard.
He smiles at Nick, who's lying there looking at him with big eyes. As Nix idly twists one curl around his finger, out of nowhere Nick blurts out, "Don't you want to have sex with me?"
Nix can feel his eyebrows go way up, awake now, and for a second he can't quite decide whether to laugh or be mildly shocked. "Isn't that what we were just doing?" he says. He seems to remember some sex just now, his hand on the back of Nick's neck as Nick went down on him. Some pretty good sex.
"No, I mean," Nick says, and he's turning bright red, stuttering like he doesn't know how to say what he's trying to say. "You know. Sex. Like . . . "
Nix keeps raising his eyebrows, not sure what Nick is getting at and kind of enjoying watching the flush spreading over his cheeks.
Nick clears his throat and Nix sees him take a deep breath. "I mean, don't you want to fuck me?" Nick says. He kind of drops his voice on "fuck" like he's not used to saying it, especially saying it when he really means it. Like he's embarrassed.
Oh. Whoa. Okay. "Um," Nix says. He feels mildly shocked and pretty turned on, because Jesus Christ, Nick, who can barely swear, saying something like that? All the blood in his head is rushing to his dick even though he just came ten minutes ago, and he doesn't even know what to say. The mental images are just a little too intense for a second.
"I just," Nick keeps soldiering on, even though he's turning a thousand shades of red. "Like the other day. With your finger. I thought, just." His face is flushing in that way that shows how young his cheeks look, how his skin is sort of too smooth, like a child's.
"Oh," Nix says. Because God, the thing is, he does want to. He's been thinking about it for weeks, how bad he wants to fuck the kid, but he hasn't -- well, he's been trying to have some lines here that he won't cross, since the kid's never done anything before, and anyway, it's not like the front line of a war zone is the most convenient place for sodomy, even if he didn't have other reasons for not wanting to deflower the kid. Like how he doesn't want to hurt him. Nix clears his throat. "Uh, where did you, um, even hear about that?"
Nick's starting to look worried and a little ashamed, like he thinks he's gone too far. "Some of the guys were joking about what queers do. And I just wondered if you wanted to, but you thought I -- I mean, I just wanted to say you could. If you wanted. But sorry, I probably shouldn't have said -- " Nick rolls over onto his stomach, so he can see Nix's face more clearly, propped up on his elbows. He suddenly gets a slightly panicked expression. "Uh, that's something people do, right? They weren't just joking?" Nick seems to be having the horrible thought that he totally misinterpreted things, got the wrong end of the stick, and it'd be almost funny if it wasn't so excruciating.
Nix lets his hand move to the back of Nick's neck, drift back to his shoulder blades, and he clears his throat. "No, it's really something people do. It's -- yeah. People do it."
Nick's still blushing like it's going out of style. "Have you done it before?"
Nix rubs at his forehead, not quite knowing what to say. It's been a long time. But he finally figures the truth is probably the way to go, sighs and says, "Yeah, I've done it before." Nick frowns a little, like he doesn't like thinking about Nix doing things with other people. "But it's not -- I mean, it's not the be-all-end-all, kiddo. It's not a big deal. And I don't want to hurt you."
"Oh," Nick says. "Does it hurt?"
Nix shrugs. "Some. A little."
Nick looks thoughtful, and glances at Nix's dick. "Yeah," he says. "I guess it would." Oh, Jesus Christ. Nix is harder than he thinks he's ever been, and it's getting more and more impossible to want to talk Nick out of this. Nick looks back at Nix's face and says, "But -- does it feel good too? Like that time when you . . ." He trails off, apparently still unable to really say it.
Nix sighs. "Yeah," he says. "It does. It feels pretty good." He really shouldn't have fingered the kid, but . . . well, he wanted to. And it turned out the kid had really, really liked it. And he wouldn't mind hearing him make those sounds again, not to mention how he wouldn't mind . . . well. Oh God, no, he can't sodomize this sixteen-year-old enlisted kid, he just -- he could go to prison. Not to mention his career, his marriage (not that that's any great shakes right now), his whole life, all down the tubes because he has no self control.
But Nick looks at him with those dark eyes and flushed face and pale back smoothing away into a rounded ass, and he's never stood a chance with any of this, not since the moment he met this goddamn kid. He wants to fuck him more than he's wanted anything his whole life.
"Anyway," Nix says gamely, trying to move forward with his better self even if his voice seriously lacks conviction. Not that his better self is so good, what with how fifteen minutes ago it was lying here jerking the kid off, but still. "We don't have to do anything like that. It's no big deal." He leans forward and kisses Nick's bare shoulder, brushing his lips across Nick's skin.
Nick shivers a little bit. "Yeah," he says. "But . . . what if I want to?"
Nix closes his eyes, and Nick reaches out his hand, runs a finger along Nix's collarbone. He always touches him so tentatively, like he's not sure he's doing any of it right, and the light, careful touches, well.
"Well," Nix says, feeling his last vestiges of conscience crumble. "If you really want to."
Nick looks up at Nix almost shyly. "I really want to," he says.
Oh God oh God, Nix's stomach turns over. And for someone who a minute ago was dragging his feet about this, he finds himself jumping off the bed pretty quickly, walking naked across the room to paw through his kit like someone's gotten their leg blown off and he needs to find the morphine. He finds the Vaseline pretty quickly -- his wife sent it to him in a care package. For chapped lips. He looks back at Nick, who's rolled over onto his back again, sprawled naked against the pillows with his cock flushed and hard, waiting for Nix to fuck him with the Vaseline his wife sent him. Oh Jesus Christ.
Well, might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, right? As regards the whole situation? And the way Nick's looking at him, it's more than enough to overpower everything else, to overpower thinking about Kathy back home, about Dick a floor up and five rooms over. All the reasons Nix shouldn't do this. It's hard to feel in touch with civilization when you're in the middle of its ruins, hard to feel like the old rules really apply.
Heart pounding, he kneels on the foot of the bed between Nick's legs, Nick lounging against the pillows. "Here," Nix says. "Pass me a pillow."
Nick obediently passes one down and Nix shoves it under Nick's hips to raise them, Nick so taken aback he doesn't even move to help, so Nix has to lift his hips himself. Nick's eyes are dark, looking at Nix with a heady mixture of lust and fear, like he's terrified and longing for it all at once, and the kid's whole body is taut with arousal.
"Okay?" Nix says after he's positioned Nick's hips, and Nick nods. As Nix slicks up one finger he says, "We'll go slow, okay? Like last time." Nick nods again, starting to look like the fear is overtaking the lust for a second, so Nix smiles at him. "Relax," he says. "This'll be great." But Nix doesn't feel very relaxed himself. All his muscles are tight; he can't believe he's really going to fuck the kid, after all this time he's been thinking about it. Oh God, oh Jesus, and with Nick all sprawled out in front of him like this, legs spread, hips canted, it's like the best porno ever made. It's a good thing the door has a lock.
He starts out by taking Nick's cock into his mouth, trying to get him to calm down, starting with the familiar. Nick presses up into him, makes a pleased approving noise, and Nix moves his slick finger to Nick's asshole. But Nick tenses up again when he feels it, so Nix waits, circling, moving his tongue until Nick relaxes at least a little bit more. And then Nix's finger slides in, no problem, better than last time now that he's using something other than spit to lube him up.
Nix takes his mouth off Nick's cock. "Okay?" he says, moving his finger just a little bit, wiggling it around and then gently sliding it in and out. Nick nods, a sharp staccato movement. He's biting his lip and his chest has started to flush dark like his cheeks. "Good," Nix says, finding Nick's prostate and watching Nick buck up onto his finger, gasping. "Good boy," he says. God, all Nix can think about is how much his dick is aching, but he's going to make this good for Nick if it kills him. Which it just might.
"Okay, one more finger," Nix says, and starts to work his slicked up middle finger in next to his index finger. This is harder -- Nick's really tight, and he's tense on top of that, and it takes a little bit for Nix to open him up, press his fingers inside. Nick's biting his lip even more, his cheeks with that young flush still to them, and Nix uses his other hand to touch Nick's cock, pull on it, watching Nick moan.
"Okay?" Nix says, and this time when Nick nods, it's not really enough to reassure him. He's starting to wonder if the kid's gone completely nonverbal, and doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing at this stage. "Okay, Nick?"
"Yeah," Nick says, and he sounds breathless. "Yeah, it's good. Just. Give me a second." Nick kind of squirms around, settling Nix's fingers inside him, and then Nix moves them so they're hitting his prostate again and Nick's writhing around under his touch. "Oh God," Nick gasps out. "Lew."
Jesus, that's the first time Nick's called him by his first name. Nix didn't even know he knew it. With the sound of his name, Nix finds himself caught up in a sudden, all-encompassing love for this kid, whose body is tense and shaking and tight around Nix's fingers, who lets Nix do anything to him because he trusts him like nobody should trust Nix, this kid with those big dark eyes. This kid who shouldn't be at war at all, this best kid in the world.
"Nick," Nix says, his voice rough. "Nicky." He slides his fingers in and out again.
"Nix, please," Nick says. "I want you to . . . " He trails off, but oh God, he wants. Nix starts to feel a little scared himself, worried that he'll do this wrong, that he'll hurt the kid and he'd rather die then hurt that kid, he can't make those big eyes hurt.
"Okay," Nix says. "Okay, good." He starts to work his fingers out, and oh God, he's really doing this. Once his fingers are out, he gets more Vaseline, spreads it around Nick's asshole, works it inside. "Okay," he says. "We want this really -- I'm going to be really careful, okay?"
Nick nods again, and God, he looks as nervous as Nix feels. Christ, Nix hopes Nick can't tell that he's nervous. Nix starts to slick up his dick, making sure it's as lubricated as he can possibly get it.
Nick shifts, wiggling around on the pillow supporting his hips. "Um," he says, and Nix looks up. "That's -- you're sure it's going to fit, right?"
Oh fuck, oh Jesus. Nix has to clear his throat. "Yeah," he says, and God, he sounds weird. "It'll -- yeah. It'll feel good."
"Okay," Nick says and nods, and God, whatever Nix says, Nick just believes it like it's the voice of God from the mountain. He always acts like Nix is a better person than Nix actually is, a more trustworthy person. Nix doesn't quite know how he feels about that sometimes.
Nix is slick as he can get, so he finally can't put it off anymore, even if he wanted to. He's starting to feel like if he doesn't fuck Nick right this second, he's going to explode or something, so nervous or not, here goes. He puts his hands behind Nick's knees and pushes Nick's legs back and apart, rolling Nick's hips up so he's in a better position. This way, Nix can be right over him, watching his face to make sure he's not in pain. Nick looks surprised as Nix contorts his body, but after he gets used to it he relaxes again, Nix's body pressed so close to his. Nix can kiss him if he wants, and so he does, Nick immediately kissing him back that eager way he does. Oh God.
The head of Nix's dick slides against Nick's asshole, and Nix can feel Nick tense up again, biting his lower lip as his muscles go rigid. Nix smiles at him. "Relax, champ," he says, and rubs Nick's leg with his thumb until he feels Nick relax again. Nick smiles at him shakily.
"Real slow," Nix says, trying to smile in a reassuring way, and Nick nods, and then Nix presses forward, using his weight to push until the head slips into Nick. Nick winces a little bit and for a second Nix feels panicky. "Nick, you okay?" In the position they're in, Nick can't really flinch away from Nix's dick; the only way he can move is to buck forward, further onto Nix's cock, and oh God, that's kind of hot even as it makes Nix a little more scared of hurting him.
"Uh huh," Nick says, his breathing kind of shuddery, and Nix can see him forcing himself to smile. Nick's stomach muscles are so tight they're shaking. "Just -- go slow."
Nix nods and holds still, letting Nick get used to the feel of it, letting his body adjust. It's the hardest thing he's ever had to do -- he desperately wants to just shove himself all the way into Nick, fuck him as hard as he can, get some relief here, but he can't, he won't, and so he holds still until Nick finally nods at him.
Nix presses forward a little bit more, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch. He finds himself keeping up a running monologue, just saying anything so that Nick stays relaxed, babbling to distract himself from how much faster he wants to do this. "That's it," he's saying. "Good boy, that's perfect, oh God, you feel -- God, kiddo. That's it, you're doing it, God, Nick, Nicky, right there, yeah, you okay?"
Nick nods, and he's breathing fast, biting his lip, and Nix pauses again halfway in so that Nick can adjust, take his time. Nick squirms underneath him a little bit and it takes all Nix's control not to jerk into him, it feels so good. Nick's so goddamn tight around him. "How you doing?" Nix says.
Nick smiles at him, even though he's sweating a little bit, and his stomach muscles are still shaking. "G-Good," he says.
"That hurt?" Nix asks.
"No," Nick says. "It's, um. It's intense. Good, though. Just. Go carefully."
Nix remembers this feeling, his own first time, how it burned a little. How the feeling was so overwhelming. God, Nick's feeling that right now and Nix is the one doing it to him, it's so strange.
When Nick nods again, indicating he's okay to keep going, Nix presses further forward and oh God, this is maybe the best thing he's ever felt, his whole life. Nick spread out underneath him, legs sprawling and open, Nick's cock still erect between them -- Nix feels like he could die right now and be perfectly happy. "God, Nick, yeah," he's saying. "Okay, okay, almost there, just a little bit more, you're doing so great. Oh God, Nicky, Nicholas, good boy, that's it, that's it." And he pushes the final way in and oh God, his dick is all the way inside Nick. Nick's lying there underneath him and he's fucking him and oh Jesus.
Nick's still breathing fast, still flushed, and Nix stops there, buried deep, and holds still. "Okay," Nick says, and he manages a shaky smile. "Good, okay. One second." He kind of wiggles around again, trying to get more comfortable, and Jesus Christ, Nix is going to explode. How he manages to stay still he'll never know, but he feels like he's shaking all over with the strain of it. He watches Nick's face, the tension in it, how he looks like he's just feeling everything very intensely, staring into space a little bit as he focuses on his body, and oh God. Sweat is starting to stick Nick's hair to his forehead.
Finally, Nick looks Nix in the eye again, his eyes so dark they're practically black, and as he looks he rolls his hips a little bit, tentatively, thrusting up onto Nix. Nix thinks he's going to lose his mind. "Okay," Nick says, and God, Nix can move, oh God. Nix is very careful, pulling back just a little ways, moving slow, sliding in and out as gently as he possibly can. Nick grunts a little bit, moves with him, and oh Jesus, he's fucking the kid, Nick's thrusting against him. Nick's looking right at Nix, his eyes wide open, staring into Nix's eyes like he can't look away. God, Nix is crazy about him, that kid looking up at him all trusting and vulnerable -- he doesn't want the kid ever looking at anybody else like that, doesn't want anything bad to ever happen to him. He keeps watching Nick's face, thrusting, carefully varying the angles, looking for that one that hits Nick's prostate, and finally as he pushes in Nick gasps and bucks up onto him and oh God, that's it.
"Right there?" he says, thrusting in again carefully to hit Nick's prostate a second time.
"Yeah," Nick gasps out, still biting his lip, and he's fucking Nix back, cock bobbing in between them.
Nix can't reach Nick's cock because he's holding himself up and holding Nick's legs at the same time, but he manages to get out, "Nick, touch yourself while I'm doing this."
And Nick, because he does practically everything Nix says, reaches down and starts jerking himself off as Nix fucks him. Jesus Christ, it's the hottest thing Nix has ever seen, Nick touching himself as Nix's cock moves in and out of Nick's body, Nick groaning and arching his back underneath him. Nix pauses for a second to lean down and kiss Nick, and Nick kisses him back sloppily, then moans and says, "Lew, c'mon, please," thrusting his hips back onto Nix like he desperately needs Nix to move.
Nix can see Nick's face shifting, the focus on it, remembers the way the pleasure and pain become the same thing when you're bottoming, all one incredible sensation, and Nick biting his lip and grunting as Nix moves inside him, oh God. Nix starts thrusting a little harder, moving a little faster, starting to really pound into him, and Nick groans and matches his pace, and oh God, oh God, Nick's skin is hot against Nix and the friction around Nix's cock is almost too much. Just when Nix is thinking he doesn't know how much longer he can last, Nick starts to come, shuddering around him, his eyes closed and his curls damped down with sweat, and Jesus, he's beautiful. "That's it, Nicky, God, Nick," Nix is saying, a stream of babble. "God, you look -- God, Nick."
Nix speeds up a little more, thrusts a few more times, and then he's coming too, coming inside Nick, and Nick's watching him with something like awe. Nix rides it out, thrusting into Nick's body as he feels it all the way up his back, and Nick puts his hand on the back of Nix's neck, hand hot against the skin there. As Nix comes down, he touches the side of Nick's face, pushes back Nick's sweaty hair. He kisses him.
When he pulls back, Nick's smiling, a hazy exhausted, satisfied smile, still catching his breath. "You didn't tell me it was that good," Nick says.
Nix kind of half laughs, his body heavy and sated on top of Nick, and starts to pull out. "Well, it's better with you," Nix says, not thinking too much of it, but Nick blinks and his face sort of lights up, not even exactly smiling. It's just that he gets all aglow, his eyes bright. For a second Nix thinks, crap, I'm giving him the wrong idea, but then he plays back to himself what he just said and thinks maybe he's actually just telling the exact truth.
Nick winces as Nix gets all the way out, but he seems okay as Nix flops down next to him, pulling the pillow out from under his hips so he can lie down more comfortably.
"You okay?" Nix asks.
Nick wrinkles his nose at him sort of playfully. "Do you know how many times you asked me that tonight?"
Nix laughs a little. "Yeah, all right," he says, pulling the blankets up over both of them so they don't get too chilled. "Sorry."
Nick smiles at him, rolling onto his side so they're facing each other, tangling one leg up with Nix's. "I'm okay," he says.
"You're not going to be too sore?" Nix asks. He just can't leave it alone. Well, so what, he can't leave it alone, so sue him.
"Nah," Nick says. "Anyway, who cares if I am?"
"The army, probably," Nix says. For a second he gets a cold chill, thinking about whether or not he's made it hard for a private to walk tomorrow. He really doesn't need Dick getting annoyed with him about that. Or noticing that at all. The thought of it makes him want to die a little bit.
Nick just smiles at him, their faces close together on the pillow. "Fuck the army," Nick says, his eyes a little mischievous, and coming from somebody who could barely say the word "fuck" a half hour ago, right before he got fucked, it catches Nix off guard. He laughs.
"Yeah," Nix says. "Fuck them." He runs his hand along Nick's arm, the soft skin of his elbow, how fragile the kid seems sometimes. He thinks about Dick saying, "Watch yourself there," and thinks that in a lifetime of doing a bad job of taking advice, this case is probably the worst. Well, what are you going to do.
**
To Part Five
Title: Sad Songs to Keep Me Awake, part 4
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: 8500 words (in this chapter; so far the whole fic is like 30,000 total, whaaaat am I doing with my life)
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, part three, or use the tag.
**
Dear Joe,
Well, the hospital's pretty lame, but they keep telling me I should be glad to be alive. I am, too. Being alive is pretty great, have you ever noticed? Even when your leg's half shot off. They give me a lot of morphine, it's pretty nice.
What happened was, my unit was ............ ....... ....... ......... ..... .......... ....... ...... ...... ........ ......... ..... ............. ..... ....... ........ and then we ............ ....... ....... ........ ..... .......... until the enemy ............ ..... .......... ....... ...... ...... and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital and they told me I'd been unconscious for like three days or something and everybody thought I was going to die but then I didn't.
Anyway, I can see a lot of birds out my window, and they're sending me home to New Jersey pretty soon, so I'm pretty excited. Also they give me a lot of morphine. It's pretty nice. Mom's going to make me tuna casserole when I get back. I miss you guys. I hope you come home soon too, but try not to almost die first, okay? It's not as fun as it sounds.
Love,
Kevin
**
Joe's kept his promise to Nick and hasn't told anybody about him and Captain Nixon. It's pretty easy, since oh, Muck and Penkala are dead, and Luz isn't speaking to him, and since Joe's avoiding Malarkey in the hopes that Luz is going to stop being mad at him any time now. He wouldn't want to screw that up by, like, Luz seeing them together or whatever, so he doesn't risk it -- he'd feel bad about the avoidance, but Malarkey doesn't seem to mind. Joe's not totally sure that Malarkey's noticed, to be honest.
Finding out Kevin's going to be okay felt like it brought Joe back to himself, like he'd been half out of his mind for the time he thought Kevin was dead, not really clear on what he'd been doing. But then they hear about Kevin, and in the meantime they've moved out of the Ardennes like the war's turned a corner and Nick's okay and Kevin's okay and Joe himself is fine, and instead of sitting through shelling thinking about how maybe he'll be the only one to make it home, Joe starts to feel like maybe they'll all make it through after all.
Everything would be great, except now that he's back to himself, he really wishes he hadn't done that to Luz. It was a dumb idea anyway, a half-crazy idea, thinking that blowing Malarkey would solve any of his problems. Because sure, not caring about Luz would make his life easier, but what he didn't think through was the sort of obvious fact that Luz catching him with Malarkey might make Luz stop liking Joe, but it wouldn't actually do anything about how Joe feels about Luz. Joe is an idiot, an idiot who's still sort of in love with George Luz even though Luz hates him now. He's still terrified Luz'll get hurt, but he's also lonely and not getting laid and kicking himself for being a freaking moron, so it's like he has all the bad parts of liking somebody but none of the good ones. Someone should just put him out of his misery already.
And to top it all off, he made Luz stop speaking to him right when he desperately needs to talk to somebody, because he's just found out that his little brother is being exploited by some guy way older than him, some officer who thinks he can do whatever he wants. Joe's just -- really not okay with it, and the more he thinks about it the more he'd like to hit Captain Nixon right in his perverted face. Nick is Joe's baby brother, and people are supposed to treat him right, treat him like he's the amazing kid he is. Not like some kid who doesn't matter, that you can do whatever you want with.
Joe knows it's just getting worse in his head as he obsesses about it, going around and around until all he can think about is Nick kissing Nixon, about Nixon's hands on him, all the ways Nixon might be touching him, until he feels like maybe he'd like to kill anything handy, German prisoners, whatever. He desperately needs to talk to Luz about it -- Luz knows all about everything, how Joe has to protect Nick, how Joe feels responsible. Luz could help him figure out what to do, and it's monstrously unfair of Luz to stop talking to Joe right when Joe needs him. Even if it is all Joe's own fault.
It's frigid, snow coming down on the miserable convoy inching along the frozen roads, driving them to Alsace so slow a guy walking beside the trucks goes faster. Joe bounces along on one side of the long truck carrying first platoon, all the way up behind the cab, and Luz sits way at other end of the truck, as far away from Joe as he can get. A few weeks ago, Luz would've been laughing and talking to the guy next to him, joking and keeping everybody entertained, but now Luz just sits listless, staring into space and looking miserable. Which is maybe just as well, since no one's been in an exactly festive mood since Bastogne, but still, it's depressing. Joe keeps trying to catch his eye, but Luz won't ever look at him.
Nick bounces along next to Joe, not saying much, but when Joe glances over, Nick's sort of smiling to himself, like he has a little happy secret. For a second Joe's confused -- they're all cold and sore and miserable and going back to the front line, so what in the world is Nick smiling about? And then he's hit by the horrible thought that maybe Nick's smiling about Captain Nixon, and even though it's probably not true, even though he's probably overreacting, just the thought of it puts Joe into an even fouler mood than he was already in, and he goes back to fruitlessly trying to catch Luz's eye.
In the middle of the afternoon, Luz jumps off the truck to take a leak, and when Joe shoves his hand in his pocket and hits a Hershey bar he gets an idea. Giving Luz a candy bar is a little bit like taking coals to Newcastle, but he's got to do something, got to apologize somehow, and it's all he has. So he gets up and makes his way down the truck while Luz is otherwise occupied, leaving the candy bar on Luz's empty seat. Grant, who's sitting next to Luz, gives Joe a weird look.
"That's for Luz," Joe says. "Don't steal it."
Grant looks incredibly disinterested. "Fine," he says, rolling his eyes.
Joe sits back down and watches a few minutes later as Luz pulls himself up onto the truck. Luz sees the chocolate and stops, confused, picking it up as he sits down. Joe can see him say something to Grant, but they're far enough apart and the truck's loud enough that he can't hear what they're saying. Grant says something to Luz, and gestures down towards Joe with his head.
Luz looks at Joe for a long, long moment, really looks at him for the first time in ages. Luz looks completely gutted, actually, and that look makes Joe feel like the biggest heel on the face of the planet, like someone thoughtless and despicable and small. And then, as Joe thinks he feels the worst he can possibly feel, Luz turns away and hands the chocolate to Grant, looking like he's telling him to take it, pointing around to the other guys sitting near them. Grant shrugs and smiles and takes the candy, breaking it into pieces and sharing it out among the guys sitting around him. When Grant offers Luz a piece, Luz turns it down.
Luz slumps back and crosses his arms across his chest, still looking unhappy. He glances over at Joe again, but when he sees Joe looking at him, he looks away.
Joe feels a little bit like he wants to die. Nick, who's been watching this whole drama go down, starts to put his arm around Joe, but that just makes Joe feel worse, and he shrugs Nick off. He deserves to be miserable anyway -- this is all his own stupid fault.
**
Joe spends the rest of the two days on the road trying desperately not to think about Luz, and not to think about Nick and Nixon together, but it's two long days with nothing to do but brood and to notice Nick disappearing from wherever they're billeted for longer than it takes to take a leak. So he's not very successful at it, to say the least, which is maybe understandable since there's only so many hours of the day anyone can think about lunch. And Nick keeps coming back from his disappearing act flushed and happy and disheveled, and Joe feels a little more livid and helpless and miserable every time. He just looks at Nick, hoping Nick will realize on his own this is a terrible idea, but Nick's either gotten really good at ignoring him, or Nick barely even sees him anymore. Either way it's depressing.
By the time they get to Hagenau, Joe's hoping that the Krauts get him already, because he can't stand much more of this. In the house where they put first platoon, he claims the bunk under Nick's, so at least he'll know if Nick's sneaking out. Whether or not that's a good thing. Aaaand Nick seems to have disappeared again.
That's it, he has to find Luz and try to apologize. Make him listen. Something. He can't seem to solve this Nick thing -- at least he can't think of any way to stop it right now, though he will soon, he's sure of it -- but he can at least make Luz be his friend again. Probably. So he shoves his hands in his pockets and heads out to see if Luz is at CP or something. He's only halfway there when he sees Luz on the street, carrying a box of what's probably cigarettes and chocolate bars.
When Luz sees him his face shifts a little, sad and closed off, and he looks away, pretending that he didn't see Joe. And that's it, that's enough of that -- Joe goes straight for him. But Luz, trying to avoid him, keeps veering away until finally Joe's herded him into the shade of a building, Luz's eyelashes dark against his cheeks when he looks down.
"Aww, c'mon, Joe," Luz says, not looking at him but trapped against the side of the building so he can't get by. "I gotta get this stuff over to OP 2."
"I know," Joe says. "Just -- I really need to talk to you, okay?"
"I don't really think we have anything to talk about," Luz says, and starts to push past him.
Joe finally loses his temper and fists his hand in the front of Luz's uniform so he can't walk away, looking at him on the verge of angry tears. It's embarrassing, how Joe can't say anything because his throat's all choked up, so he just has to look at Luz for a long second while he tries to get it together and Luz looks back with his dark eyes wide open, like something's just become clear to him.
"Look," Joe finally chokes out. "I'm sorry, George, are you ever going to forgive me? I didn't mean it."
Luz swallows. Joe's still holding onto the front of his coat. "Sorry about what?" Luz mutters, like he wants to pretend he doesn't know what Joe's talking about. He looks away, but his face is open now, vulnerable, and Joe's just missed him, so much.
"You know what," Joe says, and as Luz's face softens, a shell screams overhead.
"Shit," Luz mutters as they both dive out of the way, but Joe doesn't move quite fast enough and when the shell explodes he feels a hot burst of pain high on his left arm, and another on his cheekbone. He keeps scrambling to get out of the street, following Luz to huddle in a doorway. His heart's pounding.
He and Luz are standing really close together in the doorway, so he can hear Luz's harsh breathing, and then Luz sees his arm. "Oh, for Christ's sake, you're bleeding," Luz says.
Joe glances at the blood soaking through his sleeve and wrinkles his nose. Fuck, that's annoying. Also it hurts. He wipes at the sharp pain on his face and his hand comes back bloody from there too.
"Medic," Luz calls. "Medic!" Joe can tell he's trying to sound calm, but he's actually gone a little pale under the grime on his face, and maybe Luz still cares about him after all.
Luz starts to push him to sit down, and Joe lets him do it. Luz's hands are gentle on his shoulders, his thumb rubbing against Joe's neck, and well, Luz touching him again. It's okay, especially when Luz looks as concerned as he does. He's actually looking right at Joe, staring into his face. "Joe, you okay? Stay with me."
"Yeah, I'm fine," Joe says. He's almost a little embarrassed -- it's so stupid, he should've moved faster, not been distracted by how badly he wanted to make it up to Luz.
"Okay," Luz says, and pats his shoulder a couple times quick, crouched in front of Joe, keeping his hands on Joe's shoulders to steady himself.
No other shells have come down, and finally Eugene Roe comes jogging up with his kit, crouching next to Joe.
"Hey, Doc," Luz says, moving back to give Roe space, and then Doc's ripping Joe's sleeve to get at the wound, and before Joe knows it he's half patched up and being put in a jeep to get sent back to the aid station. Which is ridiculous -- he doesn't want to go back to the aid station, he's fine. He has to stay with Luz, and with Nick.
He's just explaining to Doc that he's fine, trying to get out of the jeep again, when Luz puts his hand on Joe's chest -- Joe's stomach drops a little -- and pushes Joe back into the jeep. "Don't be an idiot," he says, sounding like himself again, the way he used to talk to Joe. "I know you can't help it, but try, for once, you dumb bastard." Joe looks at him, not knowing if he wants to cry or laugh. Luz says to Roe, "Here, I'll take him back, Doc," and climbs in the jeep after Joe, sitting in the back next to him.
Doc nods. "Good," he says, already half distracted. Somewhere in the distance, someone yells for a medic and he's trotting off again, not looking back as the jeep drives off.
Joe's arm's really starting to hurt, bouncing along in the army jeep, but Luz is next to him, his side hot against Joe's, and he keeps glancing over like he's really worried Joe's secretly not okay, and Joe actually feels better than he has in awhile. He kind of bumps Luz with his good shoulder and Luz smiles.
At the aid station, Luz sits and watches as Joe gets the shrapnel taken out, and when Joe winces, trying not to yell at how bad it hurts, Luz actually reaches over and grabs his hand. It's just something any army buddy would do, letting you hold onto something, but Joe's so surprised and happy he forgets about the pain and stares at Luz, eyes wide. Luz smiles a little bit and looks away, down at their hands. He holds onto Joe through the wound getting cleaned out and stitched up, and then through the couple more stitches put in Joe's cheekbone, their fingers intertwined.
As the medic's finishing up, he looks at Luz. "You gonna stay with him for a little while?"
Joe holds his breath until Luz nods. "Yeah, looks like it," he says. Oh man, Luz staying with him, that's fantastic. Maybe he's going to forgive him after all.
The medic hands Luz a couple pills, and Luz lets go of Joe's hand to take them. "Give these to him in two hours, for the pain. All right?"
"Sure," Luz says. Joe thinks maybe he's beaming at Luz, but he can't seem to stop. Luz glances over at him, catching the smile, and shakes his head a little bit, looking wry. And God, it's nice to have Luz actually looking at him again, like he exists. Joe didn't know how much that had been wearing on him.
Joe's been put on a cot right up against the back wall, so he and Luz twist to sit next to each other like the cot's a bench, leaning back against the wall, close enough that their sides are touching, warm and alive in the chill of the aid station.
"Well, I hope you're happy," Luz says, but in a tone like you'd say it to one of your brothers, where you're talking like you're annoyed but it's mostly all a sham. There's too much affection underneath it to be actually annoyed. "You're the only goddamn son of a bitch I know who'd get himself wounded to get out of the rest of an apology."
Joe laughs, relieved and happy, hardly even believing things might be okay. "Worked, didn't it?"
Luz lets out an amused breath through his nose and he reaches over to trace the edges of the stitches on Joe's face. "You're going to have a scar."
Joe goes still at the feeling of Luz's fingertips grazing his face. He swallows, then says, "Think I'll look like a badass?"
"You?" Luz says and laughs. "Nah, you're too much of a goddamn puppy dog to ever look badass."
Joe should feign offense at this, but he can't quite bring himself to do anything but laugh a little. He's too happy, keeps laughing 'cause he can't help it. After the bubble of laughter gets out, though, he feels quieter. A silence settles in between them, but an okay one, a one like things are maybe all right. "I missed you," he says in a low voice, risking it. He feels like a baby saying something like that, but he can't stop himself -- this has been the worst week of his life.
"Yeah," Luz says, quiet.
"I really am sorry," Joe says. He drops his voice to a whisper, even though there's no one too close to them. "I only ever really wanted you."
Luz takes in a deep breath, holding it and letting it out slow, closing his eyes for a long moment. His eyelashes really are something. "Really?" Luz says.
"Scout's honor," Joe says.
Luz rolls his eyes. "You were never a boyscout."
"Was too!" Joe says. "You want to see my merit badges?"
"Please," Luz says, getting out a cigarette and sticking it in his mouth as he paws through his pockets for a lighter. "Any decent scout troop leader would've kicked you out the first time you set something on fire just to see what would happen."
They're back to normal. Joe wants to grab Luz and kiss him, run around the room kissing everybody, do a dance on the radiator. But instead he bickers with Luz about his knot-tying merit badge, trying not to smile too big. Eventually he lets Luz make him lie down because he's wounded, even though he feels fine. It's nice, Luz fussing over him in that bracing way, pulling a blanket up over him. And an hour later he finally brings himself to tell Luz about what he saw Nick doing at Rachamps.
**
Dear Lewis,
I've been sorry not to hear from you more. I'm sending this package in hopes it finds you well, and that these things can be of use to you there. Do write when you can -- I know you're busy, but I like to tell your daughter about you, and when months go by without any word, I worry that she'll forget she has a father.
Isn't it strange, when people are far away? I begin to wonder if I can really remember what you look like, or if I'm just remembering photographs while the reality fades. We never had much time together, did we? And we were so young. It feels like the wedding was at least three lifetimes ago, like it happened to two entirely different people.
Be careful, there.
Yours,
Kathy
**
Somehow, miraculously, nothing has come of Nick's brother seeing them that night in Rachamps. Nick says his brother promised not to tell, and he seems pretty sure his brother really won't, but God, Nix has done nothing but dream of court-martials ever since. If he were smart, he'd cut this out, go cold turkey on Nick Jonas, but if he were smart he'd cut a lot of things out, maybe starting with the drinking, and yet here he is, drunk as usual, with Nick Jonas as usual. And he can't help feeling indestructible and a little reckless, like he's leading a charmed existence where he can practically get caught with his mouth on a sixteen-year-old's dick, him a captain in the US paratroops, and go on like nothing's happened. Like he almost wants to see what'll happen if he keeps going, if he keeps drinking and keeps blowing the kid, like he's daring someone to notice. He doesn't know who.
Sometimes when he's really drunk, he wonders if the dreams about court-martials are nightmares or wish-fulfillment, but that's crazy, wondering that. Anyway, it doesn't matter, because he doesn't have the willpower to give up the kid even if he wanted to. It turns out he really likes the sixteen-year-old, which is a little embarrassing, but there it is.
He's beginning to get the uncomfortable feeling that Dick knows exactly what's going on, though. Not that he's said much -- when does Dick ever say much. But once, as Nick was walking away from the two of them, Dick had said, all quiet, almost wistful, "Watch yourself, there." And God, Nix hates the way Dick notices everything sometimes, like Dick can X-ray the contents of his head any time he wants, so easily reading all the looks Nix gives Nick when Nix isn't even aware of them himself. Dick's at least stopped being cold and distant with Nix like he's trying to make him shape up. But now he's always walking around looking at Nix like he's really concerned, like he's paying attention to whether Nix is eating enough, whether he seems happy. Even worse, paying attention to whether Nick seems happy, and God, seeing Dick in the distance, being solicitous and talking to Nick like he's checking up on him -- well, it makes Nix feel a little sick to his stomach. Sometimes Nix just wishes he weren't the guy messing around with the innocent kid, showing the kid how to get a dishonorable discharge. It must be easier to live with yourself when you're the stand-up guy worrying about the kid who someone else is messing with.
Anyway, the whole thing's a disaster. He knows that. He doesn't need Dick to point it out to him. Or Nick's brother, who glares at him every time he sees him lately, which luckily isn't often. He can beat himself up enough without their help.
In Hagenau, he and Dick are the only ones billeted in their house, even though it's a big one. Nix chose the master bedroom, the one with the lock on the door and the double bed, for obvious reasons. Dick chose a room a floor up and on the other side of the house, and Nix almost wonders if he did that on purpose, the room far enough away so he won't hear anything Nix chooses to do. Dick -- well, he keeps giving Nix those looks. It'd be like him to give Nix space to do this, the same way he gives him space to drink, space in his footlocker. Nix doesn't really know if that's a good move, but that's Dick. He lets you do what you want, but he watches carefully, always those eyes on you, soberly assessing. Like the eyes of God or something, and in between the hot bursts of shame Nix gets when Dick catches him looking at the kid, he actually doesn't mind that much. One thing, someone watching you like that, it's like what you do matters. It's okay to matter to someone, Nix guesses, even if they just watch you be a fuck-up all the time.
Well, anyway, maybe that's not why Dick chose the room. Maybe he just likes it because it's so spartan, only a desk and a hard narrow bed. That'd be like him too.
But with Dick at the other end of the house, and Nick's brother slightly wounded and back at the aid station, well, things are all right, at least for tonight. Nix told Nick's platoon leader that he wanted him for an orderly for the next couple days, and that's how Nix and Nick can be sprawled out on this bed together, mostly naked with the door locked, safely private for maybe the first time. On a bed for definitely the first time. Nick had run his hands over the sheets and said, "I've never done this on a bed before." And oh God, most of the time Nix can forget how completely inexperienced the kid is, how he's never done anything but what he's done with Nix, but then he says things like that, and Jesus Christ. Your first time shouldn't be with your feet frozen off in foxholes, with dirty tree roots digging into your back. Your first time in a bed shouldn't be in some bombed out house in Hagenau, with -- granted -- an intact roof, but with bullet holes in the walls and some of the windows blasted out.
But nobody should have to do anything in foxholes, really. Shouldn't have to shoot people there any more than they should have to have sex there. But here they all are.
The bed does feel a little strange after all that time out of doors, though. A bizarre luxury, almost too soft, all that space to lounge around on, blankets and clean sheets. Nick's all freshly clean from the lukewarm water of the showers outside, too, and it's strange to smell soap instead of just Nick himself, strange to see him with clean hair. Strange to feel vaguely civilized again.
They've just finished getting each other off, and Nix is mostly sitting up against the pillows, Nick lying on his back next to him with his head on Nix's thigh. Nix has his hand in Nick's hair, messing with it a little bit as they lounge comfortably in the afterglow. It's late, everyone's asleep and they can take their time for once. Just a little longer. Nix feels sleepy and satisfied, and can feel his eyes half closing as he leans his head back against the headboard.
He smiles at Nick, who's lying there looking at him with big eyes. As Nix idly twists one curl around his finger, out of nowhere Nick blurts out, "Don't you want to have sex with me?"
Nix can feel his eyebrows go way up, awake now, and for a second he can't quite decide whether to laugh or be mildly shocked. "Isn't that what we were just doing?" he says. He seems to remember some sex just now, his hand on the back of Nick's neck as Nick went down on him. Some pretty good sex.
"No, I mean," Nick says, and he's turning bright red, stuttering like he doesn't know how to say what he's trying to say. "You know. Sex. Like . . . "
Nix keeps raising his eyebrows, not sure what Nick is getting at and kind of enjoying watching the flush spreading over his cheeks.
Nick clears his throat and Nix sees him take a deep breath. "I mean, don't you want to fuck me?" Nick says. He kind of drops his voice on "fuck" like he's not used to saying it, especially saying it when he really means it. Like he's embarrassed.
Oh. Whoa. Okay. "Um," Nix says. He feels mildly shocked and pretty turned on, because Jesus Christ, Nick, who can barely swear, saying something like that? All the blood in his head is rushing to his dick even though he just came ten minutes ago, and he doesn't even know what to say. The mental images are just a little too intense for a second.
"I just," Nick keeps soldiering on, even though he's turning a thousand shades of red. "Like the other day. With your finger. I thought, just." His face is flushing in that way that shows how young his cheeks look, how his skin is sort of too smooth, like a child's.
"Oh," Nix says. Because God, the thing is, he does want to. He's been thinking about it for weeks, how bad he wants to fuck the kid, but he hasn't -- well, he's been trying to have some lines here that he won't cross, since the kid's never done anything before, and anyway, it's not like the front line of a war zone is the most convenient place for sodomy, even if he didn't have other reasons for not wanting to deflower the kid. Like how he doesn't want to hurt him. Nix clears his throat. "Uh, where did you, um, even hear about that?"
Nick's starting to look worried and a little ashamed, like he thinks he's gone too far. "Some of the guys were joking about what queers do. And I just wondered if you wanted to, but you thought I -- I mean, I just wanted to say you could. If you wanted. But sorry, I probably shouldn't have said -- " Nick rolls over onto his stomach, so he can see Nix's face more clearly, propped up on his elbows. He suddenly gets a slightly panicked expression. "Uh, that's something people do, right? They weren't just joking?" Nick seems to be having the horrible thought that he totally misinterpreted things, got the wrong end of the stick, and it'd be almost funny if it wasn't so excruciating.
Nix lets his hand move to the back of Nick's neck, drift back to his shoulder blades, and he clears his throat. "No, it's really something people do. It's -- yeah. People do it."
Nick's still blushing like it's going out of style. "Have you done it before?"
Nix rubs at his forehead, not quite knowing what to say. It's been a long time. But he finally figures the truth is probably the way to go, sighs and says, "Yeah, I've done it before." Nick frowns a little, like he doesn't like thinking about Nix doing things with other people. "But it's not -- I mean, it's not the be-all-end-all, kiddo. It's not a big deal. And I don't want to hurt you."
"Oh," Nick says. "Does it hurt?"
Nix shrugs. "Some. A little."
Nick looks thoughtful, and glances at Nix's dick. "Yeah," he says. "I guess it would." Oh, Jesus Christ. Nix is harder than he thinks he's ever been, and it's getting more and more impossible to want to talk Nick out of this. Nick looks back at Nix's face and says, "But -- does it feel good too? Like that time when you . . ." He trails off, apparently still unable to really say it.
Nix sighs. "Yeah," he says. "It does. It feels pretty good." He really shouldn't have fingered the kid, but . . . well, he wanted to. And it turned out the kid had really, really liked it. And he wouldn't mind hearing him make those sounds again, not to mention how he wouldn't mind . . . well. Oh God, no, he can't sodomize this sixteen-year-old enlisted kid, he just -- he could go to prison. Not to mention his career, his marriage (not that that's any great shakes right now), his whole life, all down the tubes because he has no self control.
But Nick looks at him with those dark eyes and flushed face and pale back smoothing away into a rounded ass, and he's never stood a chance with any of this, not since the moment he met this goddamn kid. He wants to fuck him more than he's wanted anything his whole life.
"Anyway," Nix says gamely, trying to move forward with his better self even if his voice seriously lacks conviction. Not that his better self is so good, what with how fifteen minutes ago it was lying here jerking the kid off, but still. "We don't have to do anything like that. It's no big deal." He leans forward and kisses Nick's bare shoulder, brushing his lips across Nick's skin.
Nick shivers a little bit. "Yeah," he says. "But . . . what if I want to?"
Nix closes his eyes, and Nick reaches out his hand, runs a finger along Nix's collarbone. He always touches him so tentatively, like he's not sure he's doing any of it right, and the light, careful touches, well.
"Well," Nix says, feeling his last vestiges of conscience crumble. "If you really want to."
Nick looks up at Nix almost shyly. "I really want to," he says.
Oh God oh God, Nix's stomach turns over. And for someone who a minute ago was dragging his feet about this, he finds himself jumping off the bed pretty quickly, walking naked across the room to paw through his kit like someone's gotten their leg blown off and he needs to find the morphine. He finds the Vaseline pretty quickly -- his wife sent it to him in a care package. For chapped lips. He looks back at Nick, who's rolled over onto his back again, sprawled naked against the pillows with his cock flushed and hard, waiting for Nix to fuck him with the Vaseline his wife sent him. Oh Jesus Christ.
Well, might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, right? As regards the whole situation? And the way Nick's looking at him, it's more than enough to overpower everything else, to overpower thinking about Kathy back home, about Dick a floor up and five rooms over. All the reasons Nix shouldn't do this. It's hard to feel in touch with civilization when you're in the middle of its ruins, hard to feel like the old rules really apply.
Heart pounding, he kneels on the foot of the bed between Nick's legs, Nick lounging against the pillows. "Here," Nix says. "Pass me a pillow."
Nick obediently passes one down and Nix shoves it under Nick's hips to raise them, Nick so taken aback he doesn't even move to help, so Nix has to lift his hips himself. Nick's eyes are dark, looking at Nix with a heady mixture of lust and fear, like he's terrified and longing for it all at once, and the kid's whole body is taut with arousal.
"Okay?" Nix says after he's positioned Nick's hips, and Nick nods. As Nix slicks up one finger he says, "We'll go slow, okay? Like last time." Nick nods again, starting to look like the fear is overtaking the lust for a second, so Nix smiles at him. "Relax," he says. "This'll be great." But Nix doesn't feel very relaxed himself. All his muscles are tight; he can't believe he's really going to fuck the kid, after all this time he's been thinking about it. Oh God, oh Jesus, and with Nick all sprawled out in front of him like this, legs spread, hips canted, it's like the best porno ever made. It's a good thing the door has a lock.
He starts out by taking Nick's cock into his mouth, trying to get him to calm down, starting with the familiar. Nick presses up into him, makes a pleased approving noise, and Nix moves his slick finger to Nick's asshole. But Nick tenses up again when he feels it, so Nix waits, circling, moving his tongue until Nick relaxes at least a little bit more. And then Nix's finger slides in, no problem, better than last time now that he's using something other than spit to lube him up.
Nix takes his mouth off Nick's cock. "Okay?" he says, moving his finger just a little bit, wiggling it around and then gently sliding it in and out. Nick nods, a sharp staccato movement. He's biting his lip and his chest has started to flush dark like his cheeks. "Good," Nix says, finding Nick's prostate and watching Nick buck up onto his finger, gasping. "Good boy," he says. God, all Nix can think about is how much his dick is aching, but he's going to make this good for Nick if it kills him. Which it just might.
"Okay, one more finger," Nix says, and starts to work his slicked up middle finger in next to his index finger. This is harder -- Nick's really tight, and he's tense on top of that, and it takes a little bit for Nix to open him up, press his fingers inside. Nick's biting his lip even more, his cheeks with that young flush still to them, and Nix uses his other hand to touch Nick's cock, pull on it, watching Nick moan.
"Okay?" Nix says, and this time when Nick nods, it's not really enough to reassure him. He's starting to wonder if the kid's gone completely nonverbal, and doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing at this stage. "Okay, Nick?"
"Yeah," Nick says, and he sounds breathless. "Yeah, it's good. Just. Give me a second." Nick kind of squirms around, settling Nix's fingers inside him, and then Nix moves them so they're hitting his prostate again and Nick's writhing around under his touch. "Oh God," Nick gasps out. "Lew."
Jesus, that's the first time Nick's called him by his first name. Nix didn't even know he knew it. With the sound of his name, Nix finds himself caught up in a sudden, all-encompassing love for this kid, whose body is tense and shaking and tight around Nix's fingers, who lets Nix do anything to him because he trusts him like nobody should trust Nix, this kid with those big dark eyes. This kid who shouldn't be at war at all, this best kid in the world.
"Nick," Nix says, his voice rough. "Nicky." He slides his fingers in and out again.
"Nix, please," Nick says. "I want you to . . . " He trails off, but oh God, he wants. Nix starts to feel a little scared himself, worried that he'll do this wrong, that he'll hurt the kid and he'd rather die then hurt that kid, he can't make those big eyes hurt.
"Okay," Nix says. "Okay, good." He starts to work his fingers out, and oh God, he's really doing this. Once his fingers are out, he gets more Vaseline, spreads it around Nick's asshole, works it inside. "Okay," he says. "We want this really -- I'm going to be really careful, okay?"
Nick nods again, and God, he looks as nervous as Nix feels. Christ, Nix hopes Nick can't tell that he's nervous. Nix starts to slick up his dick, making sure it's as lubricated as he can possibly get it.
Nick shifts, wiggling around on the pillow supporting his hips. "Um," he says, and Nix looks up. "That's -- you're sure it's going to fit, right?"
Oh fuck, oh Jesus. Nix has to clear his throat. "Yeah," he says, and God, he sounds weird. "It'll -- yeah. It'll feel good."
"Okay," Nick says and nods, and God, whatever Nix says, Nick just believes it like it's the voice of God from the mountain. He always acts like Nix is a better person than Nix actually is, a more trustworthy person. Nix doesn't quite know how he feels about that sometimes.
Nix is slick as he can get, so he finally can't put it off anymore, even if he wanted to. He's starting to feel like if he doesn't fuck Nick right this second, he's going to explode or something, so nervous or not, here goes. He puts his hands behind Nick's knees and pushes Nick's legs back and apart, rolling Nick's hips up so he's in a better position. This way, Nix can be right over him, watching his face to make sure he's not in pain. Nick looks surprised as Nix contorts his body, but after he gets used to it he relaxes again, Nix's body pressed so close to his. Nix can kiss him if he wants, and so he does, Nick immediately kissing him back that eager way he does. Oh God.
The head of Nix's dick slides against Nick's asshole, and Nix can feel Nick tense up again, biting his lower lip as his muscles go rigid. Nix smiles at him. "Relax, champ," he says, and rubs Nick's leg with his thumb until he feels Nick relax again. Nick smiles at him shakily.
"Real slow," Nix says, trying to smile in a reassuring way, and Nick nods, and then Nix presses forward, using his weight to push until the head slips into Nick. Nick winces a little bit and for a second Nix feels panicky. "Nick, you okay?" In the position they're in, Nick can't really flinch away from Nix's dick; the only way he can move is to buck forward, further onto Nix's cock, and oh God, that's kind of hot even as it makes Nix a little more scared of hurting him.
"Uh huh," Nick says, his breathing kind of shuddery, and Nix can see him forcing himself to smile. Nick's stomach muscles are so tight they're shaking. "Just -- go slow."
Nix nods and holds still, letting Nick get used to the feel of it, letting his body adjust. It's the hardest thing he's ever had to do -- he desperately wants to just shove himself all the way into Nick, fuck him as hard as he can, get some relief here, but he can't, he won't, and so he holds still until Nick finally nods at him.
Nix presses forward a little bit more, slowly, centimeter by centimeter, inch by inch. He finds himself keeping up a running monologue, just saying anything so that Nick stays relaxed, babbling to distract himself from how much faster he wants to do this. "That's it," he's saying. "Good boy, that's perfect, oh God, you feel -- God, kiddo. That's it, you're doing it, God, Nick, Nicky, right there, yeah, you okay?"
Nick nods, and he's breathing fast, biting his lip, and Nix pauses again halfway in so that Nick can adjust, take his time. Nick squirms underneath him a little bit and it takes all Nix's control not to jerk into him, it feels so good. Nick's so goddamn tight around him. "How you doing?" Nix says.
Nick smiles at him, even though he's sweating a little bit, and his stomach muscles are still shaking. "G-Good," he says.
"That hurt?" Nix asks.
"No," Nick says. "It's, um. It's intense. Good, though. Just. Go carefully."
Nix remembers this feeling, his own first time, how it burned a little. How the feeling was so overwhelming. God, Nick's feeling that right now and Nix is the one doing it to him, it's so strange.
When Nick nods again, indicating he's okay to keep going, Nix presses further forward and oh God, this is maybe the best thing he's ever felt, his whole life. Nick spread out underneath him, legs sprawling and open, Nick's cock still erect between them -- Nix feels like he could die right now and be perfectly happy. "God, Nick, yeah," he's saying. "Okay, okay, almost there, just a little bit more, you're doing so great. Oh God, Nicky, Nicholas, good boy, that's it, that's it." And he pushes the final way in and oh God, his dick is all the way inside Nick. Nick's lying there underneath him and he's fucking him and oh Jesus.
Nick's still breathing fast, still flushed, and Nix stops there, buried deep, and holds still. "Okay," Nick says, and he manages a shaky smile. "Good, okay. One second." He kind of wiggles around again, trying to get more comfortable, and Jesus Christ, Nix is going to explode. How he manages to stay still he'll never know, but he feels like he's shaking all over with the strain of it. He watches Nick's face, the tension in it, how he looks like he's just feeling everything very intensely, staring into space a little bit as he focuses on his body, and oh God. Sweat is starting to stick Nick's hair to his forehead.
Finally, Nick looks Nix in the eye again, his eyes so dark they're practically black, and as he looks he rolls his hips a little bit, tentatively, thrusting up onto Nix. Nix thinks he's going to lose his mind. "Okay," Nick says, and God, Nix can move, oh God. Nix is very careful, pulling back just a little ways, moving slow, sliding in and out as gently as he possibly can. Nick grunts a little bit, moves with him, and oh Jesus, he's fucking the kid, Nick's thrusting against him. Nick's looking right at Nix, his eyes wide open, staring into Nix's eyes like he can't look away. God, Nix is crazy about him, that kid looking up at him all trusting and vulnerable -- he doesn't want the kid ever looking at anybody else like that, doesn't want anything bad to ever happen to him. He keeps watching Nick's face, thrusting, carefully varying the angles, looking for that one that hits Nick's prostate, and finally as he pushes in Nick gasps and bucks up onto him and oh God, that's it.
"Right there?" he says, thrusting in again carefully to hit Nick's prostate a second time.
"Yeah," Nick gasps out, still biting his lip, and he's fucking Nix back, cock bobbing in between them.
Nix can't reach Nick's cock because he's holding himself up and holding Nick's legs at the same time, but he manages to get out, "Nick, touch yourself while I'm doing this."
And Nick, because he does practically everything Nix says, reaches down and starts jerking himself off as Nix fucks him. Jesus Christ, it's the hottest thing Nix has ever seen, Nick touching himself as Nix's cock moves in and out of Nick's body, Nick groaning and arching his back underneath him. Nix pauses for a second to lean down and kiss Nick, and Nick kisses him back sloppily, then moans and says, "Lew, c'mon, please," thrusting his hips back onto Nix like he desperately needs Nix to move.
Nix can see Nick's face shifting, the focus on it, remembers the way the pleasure and pain become the same thing when you're bottoming, all one incredible sensation, and Nick biting his lip and grunting as Nix moves inside him, oh God. Nix starts thrusting a little harder, moving a little faster, starting to really pound into him, and Nick groans and matches his pace, and oh God, oh God, Nick's skin is hot against Nix and the friction around Nix's cock is almost too much. Just when Nix is thinking he doesn't know how much longer he can last, Nick starts to come, shuddering around him, his eyes closed and his curls damped down with sweat, and Jesus, he's beautiful. "That's it, Nicky, God, Nick," Nix is saying, a stream of babble. "God, you look -- God, Nick."
Nix speeds up a little more, thrusts a few more times, and then he's coming too, coming inside Nick, and Nick's watching him with something like awe. Nix rides it out, thrusting into Nick's body as he feels it all the way up his back, and Nick puts his hand on the back of Nix's neck, hand hot against the skin there. As Nix comes down, he touches the side of Nick's face, pushes back Nick's sweaty hair. He kisses him.
When he pulls back, Nick's smiling, a hazy exhausted, satisfied smile, still catching his breath. "You didn't tell me it was that good," Nick says.
Nix kind of half laughs, his body heavy and sated on top of Nick, and starts to pull out. "Well, it's better with you," Nix says, not thinking too much of it, but Nick blinks and his face sort of lights up, not even exactly smiling. It's just that he gets all aglow, his eyes bright. For a second Nix thinks, crap, I'm giving him the wrong idea, but then he plays back to himself what he just said and thinks maybe he's actually just telling the exact truth.
Nick winces as Nix gets all the way out, but he seems okay as Nix flops down next to him, pulling the pillow out from under his hips so he can lie down more comfortably.
"You okay?" Nix asks.
Nick wrinkles his nose at him sort of playfully. "Do you know how many times you asked me that tonight?"
Nix laughs a little. "Yeah, all right," he says, pulling the blankets up over both of them so they don't get too chilled. "Sorry."
Nick smiles at him, rolling onto his side so they're facing each other, tangling one leg up with Nix's. "I'm okay," he says.
"You're not going to be too sore?" Nix asks. He just can't leave it alone. Well, so what, he can't leave it alone, so sue him.
"Nah," Nick says. "Anyway, who cares if I am?"
"The army, probably," Nix says. For a second he gets a cold chill, thinking about whether or not he's made it hard for a private to walk tomorrow. He really doesn't need Dick getting annoyed with him about that. Or noticing that at all. The thought of it makes him want to die a little bit.
Nick just smiles at him, their faces close together on the pillow. "Fuck the army," Nick says, his eyes a little mischievous, and coming from somebody who could barely say the word "fuck" a half hour ago, right before he got fucked, it catches Nix off guard. He laughs.
"Yeah," Nix says. "Fuck them." He runs his hand along Nick's arm, the soft skin of his elbow, how fragile the kid seems sometimes. He thinks about Dick saying, "Watch yourself there," and thinks that in a lifetime of doing a bad job of taking advice, this case is probably the worst. Well, what are you going to do.
**
To Part Five