was not a crooked trail (Jonas Brothers, Joe/Nick, R), prologue + part I
title: was not a crooked trail
pairing: Joe/Nick (with side Joe/Demi)
rating: R
warnings: Incest, underage (explicit with 17-y.o. Nick, non-explicit at younger ages)
summary: Nick really thought, then, that although there was all the physical stuff he and Joe should never have done, there was also a Joe and Nick that existed outside of all of that, untouched by these things that Nick wanted, and Joe maybe wanted, too. At this point, Nick is starting to wonder if there ever was. Maybe all of it was intrinsic to who they were together.
notes: Written for the first annual Jonas Brothers Big Bang! :D All the love and thanks and Nick Jonas makeout sessions go out to theskyturnsred for beta, cheerleading, and emo mop-up duties. You are the MOST magnificent. I also want to extend a million Joe hugs to onebadapple for being my fanmixer for this fic! Finally, I bequeath group Jonas orgies and my secret Joe/Nick sex tape to mediaville and novaberry for conceiving, corralling, and carrying out this Big Bang. Here's to the next five years! (PS: fic title is from the Nickel Creek cover of - I think - Bob Dylan's "Tomorrow Is a Long Time.")
date: 8/17/10
Prologue
Nick can't really remember when Joe started kissing him; as far as he knows, since the moment mom brought him home from the hospital swathed in blankets, Joe had been giving him smooches of varying slobber quotients, to express everything from affection to annoyance to sadness to playfulness to nothing at all. Joe kissing him was like getting up every morning: comfortable routine.
But Nick can remember when he started kissing back.
He was five. He knows he was five because they had just been getting measured together on the doorframe of the kitchen, mom with her toe stepped into the end of a tape measure on the floor and her hand holding a pencil poised above Nick's head, marking off how much he'd grown in just six months from his birthday. He was taller than Joe had been at five, and Joe had pouted a little at that before dissolving in a grin, looking more proud than anything.
"Nicky, you're so big!" he said, throwing his arms around Nick's neck and hugging him off-balance, their heads knocking together a little. As mom, smiling, rolled up the measuring tape and took it back out to dad's toolbox in the garage, Joe leaned in and pressed a kiss to Nick's mouth, almost like something habitual. "You'll be too big for me to reach, soon," he said in a voice that sounded sad. He pulled back right away, but Nick, his stomach quivering with butterflies, stood on tiptoe with his hands on Joe's shoulders and gave him a little kiss in return.
"I'm not too big, Joe," he said softly, a little afraid that maybe he was, or would be. He didn't want to be too big for Joe.
Joe looked surprised, and then his face opened and brightened in an enormous smile and he hugged Nick so tight Nick had to squirm himself loose, laughing, just to breathe again.
It had taken nearly all of Nick's courage to work himself up to doing it, though he'd wanted to for what seemed like a long time. He just loved Joe so much, and wanted him to know. Joe seemed to like it a lot, though, so much that he appeared to expect it; after that, when he came in to say goodnight and gave Nick his customary sleepy kiss, he wouldn't leave until Nick had kissed him back.
It made Joe smile so big, and no matter how many times he did it, Nick always got butterflies.
***
It wasn't until years later that Nick really understood what the butterflies meant. He and Joe never stopped kissing; in fact, they started kissing more. As Joe grew into height and Nick raced to keep up, Nick's fear soon became that it would be Joe who might get too big for him. Joe had friends from school and church, bigger and older and cooler than Nick, pretty girls for whom Joe loved to show off, as he sometimes showed off for Nick. Nick was jealous of the attention Joe got, selfish of his time in a way he wouldn't even admit to himself. He knew he wanted Joe to be happy, he just wanted Joe to be happy with him, and not all those other people.
But at the end of the day, when it was just Joe and Nick together, Joe still loved Nick, and Nick knew. He was the one Joe would come hang out with after he got home from school, who Joe would sing with when Nick had a new song he wanted Joe to hear. Mom would have to come in and tell Joe to leave Nick's room at night, well after Frankie was already asleep, when Joe begged for "a few more minutes, mom, please?" until she threatened to get dad. Joe would sigh and Nick would laugh, ducking his head, and when mom was gone, Joe turned and gave Nick a kiss, so soft it would make Nick feel warm all over.
"Night, Nicky," he'd say, and Nick would remember that Joe was his, and he didn't need to worry.
And Nick didn't worry, not really, until the day Joe told him about this girl from youth group. At eleven, Nick was just two years too young for youth group, and he'd been lonely and feeling out of place all year stuck back in children's church without Joe. Youth group did all the fun stuff, everybody knew that, and children's church was for babies. Every Wednesday Joe would climb in the van after church and talk about what he'd done in youth group, who he'd hung out with, while Nick quietly sulked beside him. There was one girl Joe talked about the most, though, and one night Joe lay in Nick's bunk with him, telling him he'd kissed her.
"She was just like...she looked really pretty, and she smiled at me when I told her she was," he was saying, Nick quietly growing more and more upset. "So when we went and sat outside on the picnic table, we were just talking, and she leaned in and I leaned in, and then we kissed." Joe's smile was dreamy, and Nick scowled.
"It's just a kiss, Joseph," he said tartly, making Joe blink over at him, taken aback.
"Yeah, but...it was really a kiss, Nicky, you know?"
Nick scowled darkly. He didn't know, and he hated not knowing, hated feeling left out, especially from Joe. "Don't see what's so great about some girl kiss," he mumbled, turning over on his side a little like he meant to go to sleep and was dismissing Joe. After a second, Joe huffed a sigh and put his hand on Nick's shoulder, jostling him a little.
"Niiiick," he said, voice quiet so he wouldn't wake up Frankie snoring gently in the lower bunk. "What's wrong? Don't you wanna grow up and kiss pretty girls?"
Nick did not, but he wasn't going to say anything else to Joe while he was being like this.
"Here," Joe offered, even quieter. "Want me to show you how to grown-up kiss?"
Nick was still, but didn't resist when Joe pulled him back over onto his back. Joe grinned down at him. Nick pursed his mouth.
"You like her," he accused. "Better than me."
Joe frowned, then shook his head. "What? No, Nicky, I don't. Why would you think that?"
"You talk about her all the time. You...you kissed her."
Joe shook his head again. "I kiss you too, Nick."
"The same?"
Poking his tongue out to wet his lips, Joe shifted up the bed a fraction. "Here," he said softly, wetting his lips again almost as if he was nervous. "Like this."
It was mostly like every other kiss Joe had ever given Nick, at first - soft and affectionate. The only difference was that Joe didn't pull away this time, like he usually did; he kept his lips pressed against Nick's, until Nick felt restless and remembered that he was supposed to kiss back. He did, his lips closing against his brother's gently. Joe made a small, surprised sound, shifted in the bed again so that his weight pressed more firmly on Nick. He moved his mouth on Nick's a little, lips slipping together damply, and Nick felt the butterflies in his belly whip up into a frenzy. His hands curled involuntarily in Joe's t-shirt, and he finally pulled away when he felt like he was about to explode from holding his breath.
Joe was panting a little, too, looking at Nick with big, shiny eyes. He smiled down at him.
Nick blinked at him, eyelashes fluttering, and then whispered, "Was that...how you kissed her?"
Blushing a little, Joe ducked his head, nodding. "Yeah. Did you like it?"
The furious excitement in Nick's belly seemed to intensify. He nodded, not quite able to articulate it. He and Joe were still staring at each other when Mom came to give Joe his final warning to get in bed.
Joe didn't kiss him like that every night after that - sometimes Frankie was awake, and Nick understood instinctively that kissing was something that was just between him and Joe - but every kiss reminded Nick of what else it could be. He wanted to kiss Joe like that all the time, and sometimes he thought Joe did too, when Joe would look at him from across a room, just watching him for a moment before grinning big and doing something ridiculous to make Nick laugh. Sometimes even when they might get caught, Joe kissed Nick just a little too long, making goosebumps raise up on Nick's arms.
Nick was twelve when he first learned about sex, when Dad gave him The Talk (Nick knew it was capitalized just from the way Joe talked about it, wrinkling his nose) and warned Nick that girls would try to get him to do things God didn't want him to do, that sex was only for a husband and a wife. Some of the things he talked about scared Nick, stuff about diseases and sins and accidentally getting girls pregnant. And Nick wasn't dumb; he knew what dad was talking about were the good feelings he sometimes got and tried not to get, when he he had to shower with morning wood, or sometimes when Joe kissed him just a little too long. But Joe had always kissed him, and Nick had always felt that way when he did, almost as long as he could remember. That couldn't be the same thing. That couldn't be the kind of thing that got people sent to Hell, not the same thing as what husbands and wives did. Nick couldn't imagine, after all, feeling the same thing for some girl that he felt for Joe.
***
There were a couple of girls that came close, over the years. Only Miley came very close, as far as Nick was concerned, and none of Joe's girlfriends seemed even half that serious until Camilla. Camilla was rough on Joe - not because she was actually bad to him, completely the opposite, actually, but because she did mean so much to him. Nick always privately thought (and even more privately couldn't help hoping) that she didn't feel quite as strongly for Joe; Nick didn't want his brother to get his heart broken, not ever, not even a little, but he thought maybe...maybe if Joe just realized that she wasn't as into it, he'd lose interest and stop seeing her. Stop talking about getting his own place, what Nick knew very well was code for, "Get a place with Camilla." It killed Nick every time he brought it up, sent Nick into a quiet sullenness kind of like being stuck behind Joe in children's church again. He was afraid of being left behind by his big brother even as they were, together, at the very top of the world.
Even while he had Camilla, though, Joe never really stopped spending more than half his spare time (what precious little he had) with Nick. Nick could still convince himself that the private pleasure he took in this was just that he missed Joe when he was out with Camilla, wasn't quite ready for his brother to be a grown-up and not really need Nick anymore. He didn't have to think of it as...as jealousy. As selfishness for his brother's affection, despite the fact that's what it was, and always had been. Nick didn't know why he should be jealous of what he'd never had a reason to doubt, and he knew he was just being paranoid. Even when Camilla and Joe were an item, Joe and Nick never stopped doing what they'd always done. Joe didn't stop hugging Nick too much and too long, making their father scowl and interviewers shift uncomfortably. Joe never stopped giving Nick kisses: kisses goodnight, kisses good morning, kisses goodbye and hello. Nick wasn't eleven anymore; he knew they probably shouldn't, that it was probably weird. But it hadn't ever felt weird. That was maybe what freaked Nick out about it the most. He'd never felt weird about it at all. When Joe came home from a date with Camilla, smelling like her expensive perfume and with her lip gloss on the corner of his mouth, Nick would pull him in close, kiss him until he couldn't taste the vanilla sweetness of it anymore. And Joe let him, pulled him in tighter. Wanted him to.
They kissed until it hurt to kiss, jaws aching, dicks hard in their jeans, and the overwhelming quality of it, the massiveness of what it was to kiss Joe and still want more, made Nick wonder if they had already crossed lines they shouldn't have. He couldn't possibly take it back now, though, and he wouldn't have even if he could. When Camilla finally broke it off with Joe, quietly and kindly, not with screaming or aborted telephone calls, Joe came home looking wrecked, and Nick scared himself with how...not glad, but relieved he was. Joe only wanted Nick with him when he lay in his bed, miserable, for three days straight, and it was only Nick he’d listen to when Nick told him everything would be okay. Nick felt terrible when he saw how upset Joe really was, but all he could think, the whole time, was that now Camilla couldn’t jerk his brother around anymore (which wasn’t fair), and Joe would go back to being the happy person solely dependent upon Nick that he had been before (which wasn’t right). It was pure selfishness, Nick realized, and as right as it seemed to think that way about Joe, Nick knew it wasn’t. He should’ve been better prepared for a day he’d eventually have to stop being the center of Joe’s universe. He hadn’t been ready for it with Camilla, and he felt like he’d dodged a bullet somehow, but that wasn’t going to last forever. And Joe deserved the chance to be happy with somebody else for a change.
Part I
Nick sets his duffel bag down in the hotel room in Toronto and looks around approvingly. "Nice place," he muses, more to himself than anything. When they'd been doing the first movie their hotel room hadn't been half this big. Of course, at the time, Nick had been more "Joe Jonas' little brother" than he had been "Nick Jonas of the Jonas Brothers." This time around they've got an actual suite to themselves, Kevin off with Danielle in a totally separate suite Joe had christened "The Love Nest" despite repeated reprimands from both Kevin and their mother. (He's already made a sign for the door and has just been waiting for Kevin and Dani to leave the room for a while so he can hang it.) Kevin talks fondly sometimes of the church camps he went to when he was in grade school, so Nick thinks he'd be happy if they really were bunking out in the woods somewhere; Nick appreciates the concept of summer camp, but he's never actually been to one himself. He's privately grateful that they only have to pretend to rough it.
Their plush suite is ample evidence of that. Joe's already poking around in the space, sticking his head into first one room, then walking across the sitting room to inspect the other. He makes a surprised noise.
"There's two bathrooms," he says, voice fading as he disappears into the second bedroom. Light snaps on and filters through to the dim room as Joe flips the light switch in what Nick assumes must be the bathroom. "This room is kind of huge, dude. We could have a dance party in here. Or convert this bathroom to an extra closet."
"It's kind of a hotel suite, Joe," Nick says, smirking, and goes to open the curtains and adjust the thermostat. "I know you know this. You've seen them before."
"Why in the world would we need two bathrooms?" Joe wonders, reappearing. He wrinkles his nose. "Do they think we're afraid of getting cooties from each other?"
"Maybe they were warned ahead of time about how much space your hair products take up," Nick replies absently, flipping open the little folder of information on the side table next to a vase of real flowers. He scans over the card of hotel phone numbers - front desk, room service, concierge - and the typical welcome message dotted with British spelling that reminds Nick he's actually in a different country. When Joe comes up behind Nick and rests his chin on Nick's shoulder, reading over it, Nick glances at him askance.
"We still going out to dinner with Demi tonight?" he asks, leaning back a little against his brother. Joe's arms come around his middle automatically, hugging Nick properly, like that tiny shifting of Nick's weight was permission. He tucks his face in against the side of Nick's neck, stubble rasping ticklishly at Nick's skin.
"Yeah, I texted her just a few minutes ago to ask if she wanted to. I want Italian, I think."
"We had Italian for dinner last night," Nick huffs out, amused.
"Yeah, well. We're Italian, we should eat the food of our people." Joe rubs his prickly chin against Nick's jaw, making Nick hiccup a laugh and flinch away.
"'Our people' are also incredibly hairy, apparently. Didn't you shave this morning?" Nick elbows Joe off gently and Joe makes a big show of flopping back into one of the armchairs. He grins, plonking his feet up on the table.
"Nope. It's my day off, so I don't have to shave today. One day you will hit puberty, Nicholas, and then you will understand."
Nick purses his mouth at his brother. "Hilarious," he says dryly, picking up his duffel bag and tossing it onto his bed, then hauling his one suitcase off the luggage cart overflowing with Joe's baggage. Joe's phone warbles as Nick is unpacking his clothes into the chest of drawers; he likes the illusion of settling into a place, and they’re going to be here long enough to make unpacking worthwhile.
"Demi says hi," Joe announces, "and that she totally found this great Italian place that's even better than the one we went to last time we were here."
"Hi, Demi," Nick says automatically, carefully smoothing out a shirt. "Tell her we'll buy if she promises not to toilet paper our trailer again this year."
Joe laughs, his fingers flying over his phone's keyboard.
***
"So I was thinking," Demi says, pulling a piece of broccoli off her fork with her teeth, "what if we did a little mini-concert here one day? All of us, I mean, cause I know you guys are doing big concerts in town. But this would be, like, just for local people, just...us and a couple of guitars, you know?"
They're at this pretty nice restaurant in downtown Toronto, and they've somehow gone the whole night so far without anyone recognizing them. Or if someone recognized them they didn't say anything. It's been really nice, a quiet spot in the whirlwind of the last few weeks, and Nick appreciates the short break in the tour more than he thought he would. Even if they're going to be filming for the next month straight, and it'll be hectic and crazy in its own way, at least they won't be sleeping in a different city every night. Just the fact that they're going to be in one place for a whole month feels sort of like a vacation, to say nothing of them pretending to be at summer camp the whole time. And Demi's here, and so many of the kids from the first movie are back (so many of them aren't kids anymore, but then Nick guesses he's not, either). It feels like some kind of family reunion. It's going to be great, Nick's really looking forward to it.
Joe's been lit up like a Christmas tree since they met up with Demi earlier. It's only been a couple of months since they saw her last, but she and Joe have always thrived off each others’ energy, egging each other on, which is why they're dangerous when left to themselves. Joe was the one who'd started the prank war culminating in the Jonas Brothers trailer getting toilet papered during the filming of the first movie, and Nick is determined that he won't let things get that out of hand this time. But still, Joe looks really happy to see her again. Nick knows he's missed her.
"You mean, like...a coffee shop sort of deal?" Joe asks, gesturing with his water glass. "Whatever place we pick will get mobbed."
"Well, maybe we could do it outside," she suggests, pushing hair back over her shoulder. "Near the set, maybe?"
"Announce it the day before or something," Nick continues, rolling with the idea. He likes it, the simpleness of it. "We should. Our concerts sold out and you haven't done anything up here since last year, so it'll be a good chance for fans who've missed out on the big concerts."
"Can I set up Kev's guitar case on the ground, for tips?" Joe asks, grinning. Demi swats him on the arm.
"Jeez, Joseph, are you that hard up for money? Still trying to save up for apartment rent, huh?"
At the mention of Joe's apartment-hunting, Nick quietly bristles. It's unfair of him, he knows. But even after Joe and Camilla broke up, Joe still talked frequently of getting his own place, and Nick privately hates it. What is so wrong with the apartment they already have in LA? Joe isn't even planning on moving all that far, the neighborhoods he's checked out have all been within ten minutes of their current place. Mom and dad aren't there that much, anyway, and Kev's planning his wedding for December, so he'll move out then. It's almost like Joe is trying purposefully to get away from Nick. Which is patently untrue, Joe has only asked Nick's opinion on every single apartment he's looked at so far, consulting Nick about furniture like they're moving into a place together, and he rarely brings up the idea of an apartment without mentioning Nick's place in it. But Nick feels left out, anyway. Left behind.
Joe's grinning smugly at Demi. "Hey, in this economy, nobody's safe," he says primly, like he has any idea what he's talking about. Joe has a brilliant eye for fashion and good architecture, and absolutely no head for money whatsoever. Nick will probably end up paying his rent for him out of Joe's checking account, just because Joe will forget. "You gonna come visit me in the bachelor pad, Demetria, once I buy it?"
"Maybe," Demi demurs, smirking at Joe with her eyes over the rim of her glass. "Depends on if your parties are any good."
Joe scowls, mock-affronted. "Hey, if it's me throwing a party, it's guaranteed to be good. Have a little faith, Lovato."
"Let me know when you finally settle on a place, I can help you move in," she replies brightly. "Moving parties are always fun."
Joe laughs. "I could just hire some movers, you know. I'm pretty sure they have them in L.A."
Demi sticks her tongue out at him. "When you've got cheap labor right here?" she asks, gesturing between herself and Nick and throwing Nick a wink. "I'd say 'free labor' except I'm fairly certain we'll at least expect pizza out of the deal. Kev and Dani would probably help, too."
Joe must notice Nick's frowning silence because he elbows him. "Whaddaya say, Nicky? Wanna be moving buddies? Feel like helping me put together bookshelves with your mad DIY skills?"
Nick can't help but reluctantly smile a little, even though the idea of moving Joe out of the house they live in together and into a place where Nick will have to ask permission before visiting makes him feel a little hollow. "If I let you put them together yourself they'd end up looking like the Tower of Pisa."
"Exactly." Joe looks pleased, like he's won a major victory. "You have to help me if only to save me from myself."
"You say that like that's not why any of us do anything," Demi teases.
"Shut up," Joe replies cheerfully. "You all totally love me, too. Right, Nicholas?" Joe leans over nearly out of his seat to hug Nick roughly around the neck. It's at least half-headlock, and completely inappropriate for a restaurant like this, and as much as Nick squirms, Joe only manhandles him more until Nick laughs, helpless and red-faced.
"Yes! Yes, Joseph, we love you! I can't actually breathe."
When Joe finally lets him go, Demi's trying unsuccessfully to stifle her giggling in a piece of garlic bread, and Joe's smiling like he's the happiest man alive right now.
***
Filming is intense, with all the choreography classes on top of the actual shooting. Nick is not much of a dancer and has no aspirations of becoming one, so it's harder for him to pick up some of the stuff that comes so naturally to pretty much everybody else here, many of whom are professional dancers rather than professional singers. It frustrates Nick more than he knows it ought to; no one here is judging him based on his ability (or lack thereof) to dance like a hip hop genius. That's why they have choreographers and professional dancers in the first place, to make the weaker dancers look not quite as bad. But it still chafes Nick that he just can't quite get his body to move in that easy, fluid way that Demi makes look as natural as walking. She's gotten even better since the last movie. She flits around the room between takes, stopping to dance with people as she goes, and Nick can't help but admire her, all her outgoing happiness bubbling up in her smile and the way she moves. She can keep the whole crowd of people pumped up, ready to jump up and dance at a moment's notice, and Nick can't help thinking that that's what makes her so well-liked. She just exudes a good attitude. Even when she isn't feeling great, she's never bratty, never a diva, which Nick can admit he can't always say of himself.
Her good vibes are infectious, making an impromptu little dance party spring up while something is apparently going deeply wrong with one of the cameras. She and Joe start shimmying together while over in the corner one of the guys is perched on a cajon that's part of the set decorating, tapping out a beatbox-style rhythm. Everybody starts dancing with them, Alyson tugging and coaxing Nick to come dance with her, which he does, a little reluctantly, just kind of grooving out on the fringes of the group until she gets bored and starts dancing with some of the other girls instead. Nick kind of drops out, stands back with his hands in his pockets and laughs at Joe and Demi popping together, Demi much more successfully than Joe, who looks a little bit like a glitchy robot.
He eventually notices Nick off to the side not dancing, and, being Joe, is incapable of letting that stand. So he comes over and dances so close Nick nearly topples backward and right into Demi, who has planted herself behind Nick to sandwich him in between. He laughs, a little nervously, and tries halfheartedly to push Joe away. So Joe just smooshes closer and Nick gives up, rolling his eyes and fake-dancing for a couple of seconds just to pacify Joe. Joe's big, goofy smile is almost enough to make it worth the embarrassment.
The AD hollers that the camera's finally back up and running, and the percussion stops as everyone spreads out to their respective places, laughing and smiling, in high spirits. It's only the first week of filming, so there's plenty of time left for everybody to burn out and get tired, but it's still pretty indicative of how well everyone's going to get along that during what could have been a frustrating delay, everyone's kept a good attitude, including the crew, who are laughing at Joe as he grabs Demi from around behind Nick and twirls her elaborately once, spinning her out and kissing her hand. Demi's laughing so much her cheeks are flushed, her eyes crinkled up into glittery slits. Joe looks extraordinarily pleased with himself, and he turns to Nick, grinning huge.
Nick's eyes widen, recognizing the look on his brother's face. "Joe, no, don't--"
But it's too late. Joe's already opened his arms up and flung them around Nick. Nick heaves an exasperated sigh and tries to mitigate the unnecessary display of affection by putting an arm loosely around Joe, sort of a cursory, "okay, that's enough" kind of hug. Rather than having the intended effect of making the hug fizzle out, that just seems to encourage Joe, who tightens his arms around Nick like he's part boa constrictor.
"What, Joe, stop, okay?" Nick pushes at Joe's chest with his other hand, but Joe is immovable as a rock. He laughs uneasily again, and Joe gives him a squeeze.
"You okay, Nicky?" he murmurs against Nick's hair. "You're such an outsider today."
"I...yes, Joe, I'm fine. I just don't feel like dancing. Or like being crushed to death, thank you very much."
He can feel Joe's smile. "Aww, Nick, you're a good dancer. You gotta just let gooo. And get loose." Joe hauls Nick side to side a little, almost knocking them both off-balance. "You gotta feeeel the rhythm, Nicholas."
"I feeeel like being let go now, please. Joe."
Joe finally complies, but he's looking at Nick seriously when he steps back, keeps his hand on Nick's shoulder, curled up around the crook where it meets his neck. He presses his fingers in, there, like feeling to make sure Nick's real, there. Okay. Nick feels his ears go warm. Joe gets the same kind of serious look in his eyes after he's kissed Nick goodnight, most nights. Like he has to reassure himself Nick's doing alright.
"You're doing good, Nick. Really good."
"Thanks," Nick mumbles, ducking his head a little. Joe knows Nick's uncomfortable dancing. Doesn't quite get it. Nick appreciates the vote of confidence, but Joe's scrutiny is making Nick start to feel kind of hot and itchy in his skin. Especially with Joe all flushed-faced and slightly out of breath from dancing in the un-air conditioned cabin.
Joe smiles huge, like he knows somehow what Nick's thinking, and Nick shoves him back a little, rolling his eyes. He looks over at Demi, like, seriously, can you believe him? But Demi's got this really odd, thoughtful look on her face, her eyes sharp and bright and considering, like she's trying to figure something out. Nick clears his throat and is glad the AD calls them all to their marks before any of them can say anything else.
***
Joe turns the "extra" bathroom into a kitchen. Of course.
Nick actually tried to use it the first morning they were there, but Joe grabbed him and steered him out and into the one adjacent to Joe's room. "Nooo," he said sternly, pushing Nick into the bathroom already bursting with Joe's beauty regimen and snicking the door closed before Nick could protest. "I have plans for that room," he called through the door, and that was all he'd say.
By Friday of the first week his "plans" have borne out; he's swiped one of the low coffeetables out of Nick's bedroom (breezily informing Nick that he needed all of his own and Nick wasn't going to use this one anyway, which was made no less astonishing and vaguely offensive for being true) and slotted it into place over the toilet, setting up an honest-to-god spice rack on it. He's obliterated the sink space with an absolutely gargantuan electric griddle, and there is a carousel of kitchen utensils on top of the toilet tank.
"I was gonna try to get a mini-fridge and stick it in the bathtub," Joe says, frowning with clear frustration. "But it's against hotel policy."
Nick pinches the bridge of his nose as he leans in the door of the bath-kitchen. His lip is twitching because the traitor part of him that thinks Joe is pretty much the most amazing person alive wants to laugh so hard right now; the part of Nick that is a sensible adult is strongly considering bursting into tears.
"We have a mini-fridge in the living room, Joseph," Nick points out, though he knows it will do no good.
"Well, yeah," Joe says, flipping a hand and grinning. "But we've got water and orange juice and stuff in there. There was barely any room for the burgers!"
Nick just stares. "Burgers?"
"Yup. I'm making us all steak burgers tonight. Demi and the other girls are going out, so I thought we'd stay in and I'd cook for us. You and me and Kev and Dani." Joe smiles brilliantly. "Sound good?"
"You're gonna grill out," Nick repeats, just making sure he has it all straight. "In our bathroom."
"Steak burgers," Joe confirms. His smile begins to look a bit fragile, like the least disapproval from Nick could splinter it and plunge Joe into a frown.
It's ridiculous - the whole thing is ridiculous, Joe wants to cook hamburgers in a bathroom, for their brother's fiancee - but Nick can't help it. He smiles. Because it's ridiculous, but it's also kind of insanely brilliant.
Which, in a sentence, pretty much sums up his big brother.
"It sounds great, Joe," he says, meaning it, smiling warm and crooked as he sticks his hands in his pockets. "Need any help?"
Nick takes a picture with his cell phone, of Joe standing there, in sweatpants, grilling burger patties in the bathroom. He teases Joe that he's finally found his place, barefoot in the kitchen cooking for Nick, and Joe grins and blushes brilliantly, looking extremely pleased for some reason and not bothering to deny it. Nick even makes it the background of his phone, and Joe attempts to assault him with his greasy spatula.
Kev and Dani show up, looking politely dubious, and then alarmed when Joe shows them his five-star kitchen. But after he and Nick swear repeatedly on their lives that they never so much as brushed their teeth in the sink, Kev relaxes, and Dani actually looks a little intrigued. Dinner is pretty fantastic, everyone agrees. Joe got all the fixings: chips and soda to go with the burgers and some strawberry angel food cake that reminds Nick of the Fourth of July, even though it's September.
Dani thanks Joe sweetly for dinner, kissing him on the cheek, which only makes Joe make a big deal of pretending to kidnap Dani away from Kevin, mostly so that Kev can come "rescue" her, scoop her up, and take her back to their own room and out of Joe's clutches.
Joe and Nick do the dishes in the "real" bathroom. (Joe's moniker, which Nick supposes is as good as any other.) It's only just the utensils Joe used to cook with, and a bowl he'd mixed an herb rub in, so Nick volunteers to do the washing, since Joe had cooked. Joe sits on the counter and keeps him company.
"I'll make you an omelet tomorrow," Joe says, "for breakfast. I bought some English muffins, even." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Better than room service, right?"
"Well, the price is definitely right," Nick says glibly, and laughs when Joe makes an offended noise and kicks him in the thigh with one bare foot. "Yes, Joe. Way better than room service. You should try to see if you can get on as the hotel chef."
Joe brightens. "Hey, that's an idea, do you reckon they give cooking lessons here?"
"I don't think hotels do that," Nick says kindly, drying off the last dish and setting it aside. He leans his hip against the counter. "And you've had cooking lessons once already."
"Yeah, but I always feel like I need more," Joe replies, wrinkling his nose a little. "I feel like I still need to learn a lot."
"I think you're pretty good," Nick says quietly, smiling at Joe. Joe looks surprised, then a little embarrassed, and a lot pleased.
"Thanks, Nicky," he says, kicking at Nick again. Nick catches hold of Joe's foot by the heel and tickles the bottom of it, sending Joe spasming into laughter, flailing so hard he nearly falls off the sink.
Nick takes a quick shower and then crawls into his bed. It's not late but he was up early, and his levels were a little lower than normal that evening. He feels kind of drained. It's an almost indescribable relief to know that he can sleep in a little the next morning (his call to makeup isn't until ten, an almost unheard-of luxury of time for him) and not have to climb on a bus or a plane at the end of the day. Nick hadn't known just how much he'd missed a little permanence.
Joe wanders in about five minutes later, as Nick is closing and setting aside his laptop for the night. Joe clambers unceremoniously into Nick's bed without asking and flops down next to him, bunching up the down pillow under his head like he has every intention of staying. Nick holds up the blanket so Joe can slip his feet under it, then flips off the lamp and settles in himself, facing Joe.
Sometimes Joe comes in and sleeps with Nick because he wants to talk, and sometimes he just wants to be close to Nick for inscrutable reasons of his own. Nick usually doesn't ask. Sometimes he thinks he might understand, and sometimes he thinks that if he does, he doesn't really want to have to make Joe say it.
Besides, he knows Joe would hold up the blankets for Nick to climb under if ever Nick wanted to come in and stay with Joe, no questions asked.
"Night, Nick," Joe whispers into the dark, leaning in to kiss Nick really soft, almost uncharacteristically sweet. Joe's kisses are always sweet by default, but they're usually something else, too - clumsy or sleepy or maybe overeager. This is just...sweet. Soft and slow. Nick's reminded of being eleven and kissing Joe for the first time, how neither one of them really knew what to do, and how they figured it out. The memory makes Nick ache everywhere, but it's good.
It's over before he wants it to be, and Nick, still feeling needy, wants to reach out and pull Joe back in, kiss him again, a little harder, a little more serious. A little more scary. Joe sinks sleepily back to the pillow, though, so Nick only says, "Night, Joe," and burrows under the blankets to sleep.
***
Nick wakes later in the night, after what feels like a long time but when it's still dark, feeling feverish-hot and disoriented. It takes him a while to figure out why his bed feels so ridiculously warm, until he remembers that Joe went to sleep next to him, and Joe has a core body temperature of approximately a hundred and forty-two. Nick murmurs a little to himself, sleepily, and rubs at his eyes, then notices that Joe's gone very, very still next to him. Nick hadn't even realized he was moving until he stopped.
"Joe?" Nick mumbles, clawing up closer to awake every second. His brain starts pulling things together, but not enough to really make any sense. "Joe?"
"Nicky," Joe whispers, very quietly. "Go back to sleep, it's okay."
Nick frowns, flops over on his side to face Joe, who's still turned toward him. "What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," Joe replies.
"What were you doing?"
"...Nothing."
Nick blinks blearily. Part of him knows that's bullshit but he can't quite pinpoint why. He squints at Joe; in the not-light, he can see Joe's eyes are open, watching him. Joe has one arm curled up under his pillow, and the other one is tucked under the blanket. Nick can't see where it goes.
"Joe?"
"Nick, I..." Joe swallows, seems to think very hard about something for a second. "I just." He leans in and kisses Nick, soft like before, surprising Nick. He instantly licks into Nick's slack mouth before Nick even really knows what's happening, parts Nick's lips with his tongue, his kiss going hot and insistent almost immediately. Nick shudders and kisses back, feeling helpless to do anything else, and Joe makes an indescribable sound, shifting a little closer in the bed to kiss Nick deeper.
Nick doesn't notice Joe's arm moving right away; he becomes aware gradually of the flexing motion of it, the very soft skin-sound of Joe's hand moving on himself. He gasps, even though he thinks he knows that's what Joe was doing. They don't...they haven't ever...done that. Not in the whole time they've been kissing, they've never...touched. Not each other, not themselves when they're with each other. Not that Nick's not thought about it, guiltily and trying not to. About what it would be like to do more than kiss, about what it would mean. The idea is too huge. He's always shied away from it. Now that it's actually happening, he tries not to think about it, still. It's not like there's anything he can do. He isn't going to stop Joe. He doesn't really want to.
Joe makes a soft sound against Nick's mouth, almost a whimper, and everything's so dark and quiet and close that it feels almost like this could be just a dream. Just something Nick's mind is making up for him. It wouldn't be the first time. He's dreamed about his brother ever since he can remember, and he's dreamed about Joe like this for almost as long. Nick remembers being twelve or thirteen, young, still, and just starting to realize his body was doing weird crap that he couldn't control; Joe was kissing him one time, really kissing him, one of those times Joe had seemed like he just couldn't quite hug Nick enough, kiss him enough, and Nick had gotten hard for the first time while actually awake. He hadn't even really known he could make it happen while he was awake. And it had freaked him out and he'd pulled away, but as soon as Joe realized what was wrong, he moved his hips so Nick could feel that he was hard too. See? It's okay. It's normal, he said, and then kissed Nick again, kept kissing til they fell asleep.
This reminds Nick of that, even though it's not the same. Nick feels like a little kid again, kind of awed, kind of scared, but mostly he can hear Joe's voice in his head saying, it's okay. It's normal. It's okay.
And it's...it's not, is the thing. Nick knows it's not. But he can't answer for why nothing about this actually feels wrong. He doesn't have a good reason for not stopping Joe, for letting Joe keep kissing him like this when Joe's clearly getting off on it. (It's hard to even think that, to even get his brain around the fact Joe is jerking it, Joe will come soon, if Nick doesn't stop him, and he won't.) It's not what they do, but Nick's somehow always wondered if they could. And here's the answer: Joe making soft, desperate sounds against Nick's mouth and his body kind of curling in on itself and trembling, and the world not ending. Nothing happens that Nick has always been obliquely afraid of. It's just Joe and Nick in this bed, kissing like they really both believe the world could end, and Joe sounding like he's almost hurting himself, frantic with what sounds like more than just the need to get off.
"Nick," he murmurs, out of breath. "Nicky, I...please, I..."
Joe sounds lost, and Nick can't stop himself. He sits up a little on his elbow, looms over Joe and pushes at Joe's shoulder til he's flat on his back. He doesn't stop kissing him for a second, and now Joe's just losing it, not even trying to hide it anymore, his hips bucking up into his hand, and he's so close he's practically vibrating.
"Joey," Nick says, presses his hand to Joe's cheek and bites Joe's lower lip. Joe keens, jerking hard once, and then he's coming, Nick can tell from the erratic way his hips are moving, the way Joe's not really breathing.
"Nick," Joe slurs before he can possibly be capable of really talking, yet. He can't even open his eyes. "Nicky, love you, love you." He says it fast, words bumping together in his rush, like he's terrified he'll lose his chance if he doesn't grab it as fast as he can. He curls his free hand into the front of Nick's t-shirt, pulling Nick back in, kissing the corner of his mouth clumsily. "Love you."
Nick pets at Joe's face, his rough stubble scratching lightly at Nick's callused palm. "I know," he says. He does know. He's never doubted for a second. He doesn't feel any different now than after Joe kisses him goodnight. It feels just the same, right down to Joe slitting open his eyes and watching him hard for a moment or two, just to be sure Nick's telling the truth. "I love you too," Nick says, firmly, almost like a command.
Joe nods briefly. Then he moves his hand from his own dick right across to Nick's, curling his fingers on it, and Nick realizes, dumbly, for the first time that he's hard. He hisses, surprised and pleasure-shocked.
"Nick," Joe says, in exactly the same tone Nick's heard a hundred thousand times right before Joe either grabs him or says "watch this." But now, Joe just crowds right into Nick's space, before Nick can even think of a word to say, and presses Nick over onto his back the same way Nick had just moved Joe. Joe's hand is in Nick's boxers before he can protest; all he can do is squirm and twitch, moan a little.
"Yeah," Joe says, awe in his voice. "Yeah, Nick, you're..." It's obvious what Nick is, hard and rapidly flying out of control, pressing his dick up into his brother's hand. He can't think about it. It seems right for Joe's voice to be in his ear. "That's it, Nicky, that's it."
Nick shudders. He hadn't known he was hard but now it's all that's in his head, how good it feels, all of it, Joe's hand, his weight half-laying on Nick, how he smells, all sleep-warm and comed-out. Everything about him is so Joe right now, hand overzealous, breath quick and light against Nick's lips where he's hovering, too close, always too close and in Nick's personal space. Nick bucks up, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut, and precum wells out and over, he can feel it rise like mercury in a tube, and then Joe's spreading it around with his thumb, openly fascinated and watching, breathing out an "oh." It's so typical of Joe that it makes Nick's heart ache, heavy, and he comes without even meaning to, without even knowing it was going to happen, the feeling just wringing out of him from somewhere very, very deep.
Joe doesn't let go even when Nick twitches and grunts, oversensitive; he's intent on milking out everything in Nick's body, apparently. Nick eventually has nothing left to give and just sprawls, shellshocked and numb with too much pleasure, Joe's weight on him increasing as Joe leans more heavily on him, inspecting his face for signs of life, maybe.
"Nick," he whispers, rearranging his boxers with unexpected but characteristic gentleness. "Are you alive?"
"Yes, Joseph. More or less."
"Good." Pause. "Are you okay?"
"I'm...really tired," Nick answers honestly, opening his eyes and looking up into Joe's. "We should sleep now, probably."
"Yeah, probably." But Joe still doesn't move. So Nick, not even thinking, tangles his fingers in Joe's thick, soft hair and pulls him down, kissing the corner of his mouth until Joe turns his head to fit them together better. Joe's mouth is soft and a little swollen, hot, and Nick thinks, this is what Joe looks and feels like after he comes, and doesn't know what to do with that.
Luckily, Joe seems satisfied. He settles down, still kind of draped along Nick's side, his arm flung over Nick's waist. "Night, Nicky," he mumbles throatily against Nick's shoulder. Nick rubs his face with one hand and yawns, his eyes dropping closed. He scratches lightly at Joe's head with the fingers still buried in his hair.
"Night, Joe."
***
Joe is unusually clingy all the next day, even for Joe, and Nick is quietly freaking the fuck out. He woke up next to Joe and for about ten seconds was completely and utterly happy, wrapped up in a cocoon of blanket and brother, warm all the way into his bones. And then he remembered.
Now he can't stop remembering. He can't stop thinking about it. Which is actually no help whatsoever because thinking about it...thinking about it makes his body remember, and his body is not as sensible or reasonable a thing as his brain. His body only remembers that it was good and that it was Joe, which made it better. He can't seem to convince it that it was bad, wrong, extremely stupid. He can't even believe it happened, can't believe he let himself do that, do any of it. Saying no to Joe has always been difficult to the point of impossibility for Nick, partly because Joe is a persistent weirdo but mostly because Nick just loves him so much he can't stand to see him unhappy. But this should have been a time Nick could say no. He should have said no. He doesn't know why he didn't, and he feels like shit. He's panicking so badly he's shaking on set, which only sends everyone else into a tizzy when they notice, grilling him about his levels and whether he ate breakfast and what he had to eat and whether he feels okay. And all Nick can do is answer their questions hollowly, try and reassure them without even being able to muster a smile because what has he done?
Joe notices Nick's unease, of course. He's the first person to notice it, and he hangs closer to Nick all day than he should, enough to set all of Nick's ragged nerves thrumming with frustration boiling to an inevitable conclusion. Nick can feel the blowup coming, but he is powerless to stop it. It's all building up in him all day like some noxious flammable substance expanding and expanding in an enclosed space.
Filming that day isn't good. Even Demi's unshakable cheerfulnes can't buoy up the pall that Nick's brought down on the whole set. Everyone's worried about him, and he wishes they would just stop, because this is his own screw-up, his own enormous, impossible mistake, and he can't tell anyone, can't let anyone know or guess. Nick's always been a little given to paranoia, unnecessary worry about his own worth and ability, and when he's in a stew about something it can really get the better of him. Usually Joe is there to get Nick out of his poisonous headspace, but today he's the last person Nick can lean on.
The only blessing is that it's a short day of work, Nick only needed for just a handful of scenes before he's sent back to the hotel with an unspoken but palpable sense of relief in the crew. It nettles Nick further, and he's practically storming around gathering his things from their trailer, getting ready to go, when the door swings back and Joe bounds up inside, looking for Nick.
"Hey," he says, and he's a little out of breath like he ran from the set to get here. "You going back?"
"Yeah," Nick says, not looking up at Joe, stuffing things into his satchel. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna go back, maybe go for a run or something. Take a nap."
Joe gets in close, puts his hand on Nick's shoulder, and Nick stiffens a little. Joe doesn't seem to notice. "You okay, Nicky? You feeling alright?" Joe's hand comes up and cups Nick's cheek, feeling at him almost, as if for a fever. "You look really drained."
Nick shrugs off Joe's hand, but Joe doesn't move back, any, and Nick's heart is pounding too fast. "I'm just. I'm tired, Joe. Is all."
"Didn't sleep good?"
Nick shoots him a sharp look, wondering if he's being obnoxious or purposefully obtuse, but Joe just looks back at him with level concern. "I really don't wanna talk about how I slept, okay? Don't screw around, Joe."
Joe pales a little. "Nick, what...?"
"You know what." They're standing there inches apart, and Nick feels like he's encased in impenetrable glass, able to see his brother, but not to reach out to him. Can't reach out and touch him, no matter what.
Joe's brow folds up in a complicated expression Nick isn't sure he can decipher. "Nick," he says, and his voice is subtly different. "What's wrong? I thought you...I thought it--"
"It wasn't, okay?" Nick says, sharper than he means to. "It isn't...we can't, Joe, you know that!"
"But...Nick, it's always been that. Since...since I can remember, it's been that."
Nick's shaking his head, and he's starting to tremble again. He feels distinctly unwell. "No, it wasn't. I mean. I don't know, maybe it was, but it shouldn't have been. We shouldn't have been fooling around, it's not right, Joe." He feels kind of like his knees are going to give out, and he sits heavily on the nearest chair. "It's...do you know what you're saying?"
"Yes," Joe says, so immediately it startles Nick a little. "I know. And I know I shouldn't say it, but it's you and me, Nick. It's always been you and me." His voice is a little smaller when he adds, "I don't know how else to be."
Nick looks up at him, finally, at the desolate look of resolve on Joe's face that Nick feels completely responsible for. He just isn't sure now whether he should have stopped all this years ago, before Joe had time to get attached to it, or if he should give in now to what Joe’s insisting and wipe that look away. A trembling, greedy part of him wants to, so bad. "We should..." he starts, then stops, licks his lips, steels himself. "We can't be like this. Not...not anymore. Okay? It's...this was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened, and it can't happen again. We're too old for this now. We aren't kids anymore."
Joe sits down into the chair opposite Nick, looking crumpled and lessened. Nick expects him to argue and disagree, push a little, but it's several seconds before Joe says anything at all. "You...you're sure, Nick?" he says, and the earnestness in his voice nearly breaks Nick's heart.
"Joe," he says, pleading, as if Joe really had argued with him and needed to be convinced. "How can we not want to stop this? It's out of hand. We should, we should want to stop."
"I don't," Joe shoots back. "Do you?"
Nick doesn't reply to that. He can't, in any honesty. "We have to," is all he says, like it’s his last line of defense. "We can't keep doing it, Joe. Even...even if we want to," he adds, blurting it out, purging it. Joe sucks in a breath. He reaches out for Nick, and Nick stands, pulls his bag strap over his head and stuffs his hands into his pockets. Joe's eyes are huge and locked on him, and Nick just...he doesn't even know what he wants right now. To turn tail and run, to grab Joe and crush him in a hug, to yell and scream like he's needed to do all day. All that force is still pent up in him, waiting to explode, making him buzz with it.
He chooses instead to walk to the door of the trailer, methodically almost, and just before he opens it Joe says, "Nick!" sudden and sharp, like he's afraid. It's the tone of voice one would use to stop someone walking out into oncoming traffic. Nick looks at him, and Joe just says in a really tiny voice, "I love you."
"I love you too," Nick replies, and doesn't know how he means it, and that makes him shudder, everything in him confused.
It doesn't make any difference, anyway.
***
Everything is weird and off between Joe and Nick for the rest of filming, but it's not, Nick thinks, as bad as it could be. Joe acts much the same as he always has, still talks to Nick, still even cooks him breakfast in his ridiculous makeshift kitchen. But everything he does is subdued. Like the way he is when he's tired or sick or something. He talks quieter around Nick, doesn't laugh as much, speaks almost cautiously. It's unsettling, but then Nick is already unsettled, still wracked with guilt. Frustratingly, his guilt is less about the fact that he did what he did with Joe and more about the fact that he doesn't feel worse about it. This is a self-perpetuating cycle, of course, and it's one Nick can't seem to break out of. He just can't let it go, for some reason; he'd like to just chalk it up to...whatever, sleepiness or raging hormones or experimentation or just sheer stupidity, call it a loss and move on. But he can't. He keeps flashing back to it. He dreams about it, not like his normal Joe dreams where he sees stuff they've never done and might not actually be physically possible, almost ludicrous in their blatant fantasy, but the exact same situation, playing like a movie in his head, frighteningly tangible and immediate. He remembers the way Joe said his name then, like it was his lifeline, and how he looked when he came. He can't just forget that. He's pretty sure it's not something he'll ever not think about again.
Their friends seem to feel the fissure between them, intuitively; that or he and Joe are being a lot more obvious than Nick thinks they are. Demi looks really upset sometimes, on the days Joe looks bleakest and Nick's feeling the most self-destructive. She seems to be trying to act as a go-between, hanging out with them individually, solicitous to the point that Nick is perhaps a little more sharp with her than he means to be. He regrets it, but after that, Demi backs off a little, hangs mostly with Joe, who needs the vast majority of the cheering up, anyway. Nick wishes he could help, wishes he knew how to un-break them except to just leave the wound alone and allow it to heal. For now, though, that's all he really knows how to do.
The most major difference, the weirdest gap in Nick's life now, is not having Joe kiss him. Nick hadn't realized just what an integral part of his life it was, how much he practically set his internal clock by Joe dropping unsolicited affection on him like a benevolent and vaguely misdirected deity. Joe doesn't really hug him anymore, either. He'll start to, sometimes, move in toward Nick like he's magnetized, start to reach out or open his arms. Then he'll stop and his expression will change and he'll just pat Nick on the back, maybe, or ruffle his hair.
If his hand lingers just a half-beat too long, sometimes, Nick doesn't have the heart to point it out.
They get through the rest of filming, somehow. Some days it even seems okay. Joe makes them "Canadian Thanksgiving dinner," the major difference being, as far as Nick can tell, a preponderance of Canadian bacon instead of turkey. It's good, and Joe invited basically everybody, and for a while everything is almost back to normal, again. Then Nick catches Joe's eye and Joe smiles, and then his smile cracks and falters and they both look back down at their plates. Nick guesses Joe's finally feeling a little of the same guilt that's been dogging Nick. He finally gets it, Nick thinks; he understands that this isn't good, it isn't healthy, and it sure as hell isn't right. So why do things still feel so tense? Nick had hoped that once it finally sank in for Joe, he'd sort of go back to being the Joe he was, minus the kissing, and they could stop acting like there was this enormous unacknowledged elephant in the room every time they talked.
Nick's still pretty miserable about it all, and especially for making Joe unhappy, too. He never wanted Joe to be miserable. This is the thing Nick feels he needs to punish himself for most. He isn't sure why; logically Joe is as much to blame as Nick is, maybe even more. But Nick's always the sensible one, the grown-up one, and Joe is the impulsive one, the easily-hurt one. It should've been Nick, and it should've been ages ago. It hurts worse now because they've gotten too dependent. They just need to relearn how to be Nick and Joe, separate entities. Tours make things different, blur lines; you're much more likely to be half naked or even totally naked in front of random people on tour than you would be at home. Nick figures that might be part of the problem. Maybe he and Joe let their affection grow too much when they're away from home. The lines that are clear when your parents are down the hall maybe fade a little when they're across the country and you're living on top of each other. It's not an excuse, but Nick hopes that it'll eventually be enough of a reason for him to let himself forget it happened and move on.
If only part of him didn't want to forget, didn't want to hang on to how it felt to have Joe touch him, unasked, unapologetic. If only it hadn't felt just like everything else that had come before, Nick doesn't think he'd feel so confused about it now.
But he'll have space and time to think about it soon. After Christmas, he will have even scarier things to keep his attention: his own tour to play, all by himself. (Well, his band will be there, but they aren't his brothers.) And Joe will be in Australia. They'll literally be about as far apart as it will be possible to be. They'll remember that they have distinct lives that don't always overlap, that they aren't actually all there is in each others' worlds. That should be enough. It'll have to be enough.
***
part II
pairing: Joe/Nick (with side Joe/Demi)
rating: R
warnings: Incest, underage (explicit with 17-y.o. Nick, non-explicit at younger ages)
summary: Nick really thought, then, that although there was all the physical stuff he and Joe should never have done, there was also a Joe and Nick that existed outside of all of that, untouched by these things that Nick wanted, and Joe maybe wanted, too. At this point, Nick is starting to wonder if there ever was. Maybe all of it was intrinsic to who they were together.
notes: Written for the first annual Jonas Brothers Big Bang! :D All the love and thanks and Nick Jonas makeout sessions go out to theskyturnsred for beta, cheerleading, and emo mop-up duties. You are the MOST magnificent. I also want to extend a million Joe hugs to onebadapple for being my fanmixer for this fic! Finally, I bequeath group Jonas orgies and my secret Joe/Nick sex tape to mediaville and novaberry for conceiving, corralling, and carrying out this Big Bang. Here's to the next five years! (PS: fic title is from the Nickel Creek cover of - I think - Bob Dylan's "Tomorrow Is a Long Time.")
date: 8/17/10
Prologue
Nick can't really remember when Joe started kissing him; as far as he knows, since the moment mom brought him home from the hospital swathed in blankets, Joe had been giving him smooches of varying slobber quotients, to express everything from affection to annoyance to sadness to playfulness to nothing at all. Joe kissing him was like getting up every morning: comfortable routine.
But Nick can remember when he started kissing back.
He was five. He knows he was five because they had just been getting measured together on the doorframe of the kitchen, mom with her toe stepped into the end of a tape measure on the floor and her hand holding a pencil poised above Nick's head, marking off how much he'd grown in just six months from his birthday. He was taller than Joe had been at five, and Joe had pouted a little at that before dissolving in a grin, looking more proud than anything.
"Nicky, you're so big!" he said, throwing his arms around Nick's neck and hugging him off-balance, their heads knocking together a little. As mom, smiling, rolled up the measuring tape and took it back out to dad's toolbox in the garage, Joe leaned in and pressed a kiss to Nick's mouth, almost like something habitual. "You'll be too big for me to reach, soon," he said in a voice that sounded sad. He pulled back right away, but Nick, his stomach quivering with butterflies, stood on tiptoe with his hands on Joe's shoulders and gave him a little kiss in return.
"I'm not too big, Joe," he said softly, a little afraid that maybe he was, or would be. He didn't want to be too big for Joe.
Joe looked surprised, and then his face opened and brightened in an enormous smile and he hugged Nick so tight Nick had to squirm himself loose, laughing, just to breathe again.
It had taken nearly all of Nick's courage to work himself up to doing it, though he'd wanted to for what seemed like a long time. He just loved Joe so much, and wanted him to know. Joe seemed to like it a lot, though, so much that he appeared to expect it; after that, when he came in to say goodnight and gave Nick his customary sleepy kiss, he wouldn't leave until Nick had kissed him back.
It made Joe smile so big, and no matter how many times he did it, Nick always got butterflies.
***
It wasn't until years later that Nick really understood what the butterflies meant. He and Joe never stopped kissing; in fact, they started kissing more. As Joe grew into height and Nick raced to keep up, Nick's fear soon became that it would be Joe who might get too big for him. Joe had friends from school and church, bigger and older and cooler than Nick, pretty girls for whom Joe loved to show off, as he sometimes showed off for Nick. Nick was jealous of the attention Joe got, selfish of his time in a way he wouldn't even admit to himself. He knew he wanted Joe to be happy, he just wanted Joe to be happy with him, and not all those other people.
But at the end of the day, when it was just Joe and Nick together, Joe still loved Nick, and Nick knew. He was the one Joe would come hang out with after he got home from school, who Joe would sing with when Nick had a new song he wanted Joe to hear. Mom would have to come in and tell Joe to leave Nick's room at night, well after Frankie was already asleep, when Joe begged for "a few more minutes, mom, please?" until she threatened to get dad. Joe would sigh and Nick would laugh, ducking his head, and when mom was gone, Joe turned and gave Nick a kiss, so soft it would make Nick feel warm all over.
"Night, Nicky," he'd say, and Nick would remember that Joe was his, and he didn't need to worry.
And Nick didn't worry, not really, until the day Joe told him about this girl from youth group. At eleven, Nick was just two years too young for youth group, and he'd been lonely and feeling out of place all year stuck back in children's church without Joe. Youth group did all the fun stuff, everybody knew that, and children's church was for babies. Every Wednesday Joe would climb in the van after church and talk about what he'd done in youth group, who he'd hung out with, while Nick quietly sulked beside him. There was one girl Joe talked about the most, though, and one night Joe lay in Nick's bunk with him, telling him he'd kissed her.
"She was just like...she looked really pretty, and she smiled at me when I told her she was," he was saying, Nick quietly growing more and more upset. "So when we went and sat outside on the picnic table, we were just talking, and she leaned in and I leaned in, and then we kissed." Joe's smile was dreamy, and Nick scowled.
"It's just a kiss, Joseph," he said tartly, making Joe blink over at him, taken aback.
"Yeah, but...it was really a kiss, Nicky, you know?"
Nick scowled darkly. He didn't know, and he hated not knowing, hated feeling left out, especially from Joe. "Don't see what's so great about some girl kiss," he mumbled, turning over on his side a little like he meant to go to sleep and was dismissing Joe. After a second, Joe huffed a sigh and put his hand on Nick's shoulder, jostling him a little.
"Niiiick," he said, voice quiet so he wouldn't wake up Frankie snoring gently in the lower bunk. "What's wrong? Don't you wanna grow up and kiss pretty girls?"
Nick did not, but he wasn't going to say anything else to Joe while he was being like this.
"Here," Joe offered, even quieter. "Want me to show you how to grown-up kiss?"
Nick was still, but didn't resist when Joe pulled him back over onto his back. Joe grinned down at him. Nick pursed his mouth.
"You like her," he accused. "Better than me."
Joe frowned, then shook his head. "What? No, Nicky, I don't. Why would you think that?"
"You talk about her all the time. You...you kissed her."
Joe shook his head again. "I kiss you too, Nick."
"The same?"
Poking his tongue out to wet his lips, Joe shifted up the bed a fraction. "Here," he said softly, wetting his lips again almost as if he was nervous. "Like this."
It was mostly like every other kiss Joe had ever given Nick, at first - soft and affectionate. The only difference was that Joe didn't pull away this time, like he usually did; he kept his lips pressed against Nick's, until Nick felt restless and remembered that he was supposed to kiss back. He did, his lips closing against his brother's gently. Joe made a small, surprised sound, shifted in the bed again so that his weight pressed more firmly on Nick. He moved his mouth on Nick's a little, lips slipping together damply, and Nick felt the butterflies in his belly whip up into a frenzy. His hands curled involuntarily in Joe's t-shirt, and he finally pulled away when he felt like he was about to explode from holding his breath.
Joe was panting a little, too, looking at Nick with big, shiny eyes. He smiled down at him.
Nick blinked at him, eyelashes fluttering, and then whispered, "Was that...how you kissed her?"
Blushing a little, Joe ducked his head, nodding. "Yeah. Did you like it?"
The furious excitement in Nick's belly seemed to intensify. He nodded, not quite able to articulate it. He and Joe were still staring at each other when Mom came to give Joe his final warning to get in bed.
Joe didn't kiss him like that every night after that - sometimes Frankie was awake, and Nick understood instinctively that kissing was something that was just between him and Joe - but every kiss reminded Nick of what else it could be. He wanted to kiss Joe like that all the time, and sometimes he thought Joe did too, when Joe would look at him from across a room, just watching him for a moment before grinning big and doing something ridiculous to make Nick laugh. Sometimes even when they might get caught, Joe kissed Nick just a little too long, making goosebumps raise up on Nick's arms.
Nick was twelve when he first learned about sex, when Dad gave him The Talk (Nick knew it was capitalized just from the way Joe talked about it, wrinkling his nose) and warned Nick that girls would try to get him to do things God didn't want him to do, that sex was only for a husband and a wife. Some of the things he talked about scared Nick, stuff about diseases and sins and accidentally getting girls pregnant. And Nick wasn't dumb; he knew what dad was talking about were the good feelings he sometimes got and tried not to get, when he he had to shower with morning wood, or sometimes when Joe kissed him just a little too long. But Joe had always kissed him, and Nick had always felt that way when he did, almost as long as he could remember. That couldn't be the same thing. That couldn't be the kind of thing that got people sent to Hell, not the same thing as what husbands and wives did. Nick couldn't imagine, after all, feeling the same thing for some girl that he felt for Joe.
***
There were a couple of girls that came close, over the years. Only Miley came very close, as far as Nick was concerned, and none of Joe's girlfriends seemed even half that serious until Camilla. Camilla was rough on Joe - not because she was actually bad to him, completely the opposite, actually, but because she did mean so much to him. Nick always privately thought (and even more privately couldn't help hoping) that she didn't feel quite as strongly for Joe; Nick didn't want his brother to get his heart broken, not ever, not even a little, but he thought maybe...maybe if Joe just realized that she wasn't as into it, he'd lose interest and stop seeing her. Stop talking about getting his own place, what Nick knew very well was code for, "Get a place with Camilla." It killed Nick every time he brought it up, sent Nick into a quiet sullenness kind of like being stuck behind Joe in children's church again. He was afraid of being left behind by his big brother even as they were, together, at the very top of the world.
Even while he had Camilla, though, Joe never really stopped spending more than half his spare time (what precious little he had) with Nick. Nick could still convince himself that the private pleasure he took in this was just that he missed Joe when he was out with Camilla, wasn't quite ready for his brother to be a grown-up and not really need Nick anymore. He didn't have to think of it as...as jealousy. As selfishness for his brother's affection, despite the fact that's what it was, and always had been. Nick didn't know why he should be jealous of what he'd never had a reason to doubt, and he knew he was just being paranoid. Even when Camilla and Joe were an item, Joe and Nick never stopped doing what they'd always done. Joe didn't stop hugging Nick too much and too long, making their father scowl and interviewers shift uncomfortably. Joe never stopped giving Nick kisses: kisses goodnight, kisses good morning, kisses goodbye and hello. Nick wasn't eleven anymore; he knew they probably shouldn't, that it was probably weird. But it hadn't ever felt weird. That was maybe what freaked Nick out about it the most. He'd never felt weird about it at all. When Joe came home from a date with Camilla, smelling like her expensive perfume and with her lip gloss on the corner of his mouth, Nick would pull him in close, kiss him until he couldn't taste the vanilla sweetness of it anymore. And Joe let him, pulled him in tighter. Wanted him to.
They kissed until it hurt to kiss, jaws aching, dicks hard in their jeans, and the overwhelming quality of it, the massiveness of what it was to kiss Joe and still want more, made Nick wonder if they had already crossed lines they shouldn't have. He couldn't possibly take it back now, though, and he wouldn't have even if he could. When Camilla finally broke it off with Joe, quietly and kindly, not with screaming or aborted telephone calls, Joe came home looking wrecked, and Nick scared himself with how...not glad, but relieved he was. Joe only wanted Nick with him when he lay in his bed, miserable, for three days straight, and it was only Nick he’d listen to when Nick told him everything would be okay. Nick felt terrible when he saw how upset Joe really was, but all he could think, the whole time, was that now Camilla couldn’t jerk his brother around anymore (which wasn’t fair), and Joe would go back to being the happy person solely dependent upon Nick that he had been before (which wasn’t right). It was pure selfishness, Nick realized, and as right as it seemed to think that way about Joe, Nick knew it wasn’t. He should’ve been better prepared for a day he’d eventually have to stop being the center of Joe’s universe. He hadn’t been ready for it with Camilla, and he felt like he’d dodged a bullet somehow, but that wasn’t going to last forever. And Joe deserved the chance to be happy with somebody else for a change.
Part I
Nick sets his duffel bag down in the hotel room in Toronto and looks around approvingly. "Nice place," he muses, more to himself than anything. When they'd been doing the first movie their hotel room hadn't been half this big. Of course, at the time, Nick had been more "Joe Jonas' little brother" than he had been "Nick Jonas of the Jonas Brothers." This time around they've got an actual suite to themselves, Kevin off with Danielle in a totally separate suite Joe had christened "The Love Nest" despite repeated reprimands from both Kevin and their mother. (He's already made a sign for the door and has just been waiting for Kevin and Dani to leave the room for a while so he can hang it.) Kevin talks fondly sometimes of the church camps he went to when he was in grade school, so Nick thinks he'd be happy if they really were bunking out in the woods somewhere; Nick appreciates the concept of summer camp, but he's never actually been to one himself. He's privately grateful that they only have to pretend to rough it.
Their plush suite is ample evidence of that. Joe's already poking around in the space, sticking his head into first one room, then walking across the sitting room to inspect the other. He makes a surprised noise.
"There's two bathrooms," he says, voice fading as he disappears into the second bedroom. Light snaps on and filters through to the dim room as Joe flips the light switch in what Nick assumes must be the bathroom. "This room is kind of huge, dude. We could have a dance party in here. Or convert this bathroom to an extra closet."
"It's kind of a hotel suite, Joe," Nick says, smirking, and goes to open the curtains and adjust the thermostat. "I know you know this. You've seen them before."
"Why in the world would we need two bathrooms?" Joe wonders, reappearing. He wrinkles his nose. "Do they think we're afraid of getting cooties from each other?"
"Maybe they were warned ahead of time about how much space your hair products take up," Nick replies absently, flipping open the little folder of information on the side table next to a vase of real flowers. He scans over the card of hotel phone numbers - front desk, room service, concierge - and the typical welcome message dotted with British spelling that reminds Nick he's actually in a different country. When Joe comes up behind Nick and rests his chin on Nick's shoulder, reading over it, Nick glances at him askance.
"We still going out to dinner with Demi tonight?" he asks, leaning back a little against his brother. Joe's arms come around his middle automatically, hugging Nick properly, like that tiny shifting of Nick's weight was permission. He tucks his face in against the side of Nick's neck, stubble rasping ticklishly at Nick's skin.
"Yeah, I texted her just a few minutes ago to ask if she wanted to. I want Italian, I think."
"We had Italian for dinner last night," Nick huffs out, amused.
"Yeah, well. We're Italian, we should eat the food of our people." Joe rubs his prickly chin against Nick's jaw, making Nick hiccup a laugh and flinch away.
"'Our people' are also incredibly hairy, apparently. Didn't you shave this morning?" Nick elbows Joe off gently and Joe makes a big show of flopping back into one of the armchairs. He grins, plonking his feet up on the table.
"Nope. It's my day off, so I don't have to shave today. One day you will hit puberty, Nicholas, and then you will understand."
Nick purses his mouth at his brother. "Hilarious," he says dryly, picking up his duffel bag and tossing it onto his bed, then hauling his one suitcase off the luggage cart overflowing with Joe's baggage. Joe's phone warbles as Nick is unpacking his clothes into the chest of drawers; he likes the illusion of settling into a place, and they’re going to be here long enough to make unpacking worthwhile.
"Demi says hi," Joe announces, "and that she totally found this great Italian place that's even better than the one we went to last time we were here."
"Hi, Demi," Nick says automatically, carefully smoothing out a shirt. "Tell her we'll buy if she promises not to toilet paper our trailer again this year."
Joe laughs, his fingers flying over his phone's keyboard.
***
"So I was thinking," Demi says, pulling a piece of broccoli off her fork with her teeth, "what if we did a little mini-concert here one day? All of us, I mean, cause I know you guys are doing big concerts in town. But this would be, like, just for local people, just...us and a couple of guitars, you know?"
They're at this pretty nice restaurant in downtown Toronto, and they've somehow gone the whole night so far without anyone recognizing them. Or if someone recognized them they didn't say anything. It's been really nice, a quiet spot in the whirlwind of the last few weeks, and Nick appreciates the short break in the tour more than he thought he would. Even if they're going to be filming for the next month straight, and it'll be hectic and crazy in its own way, at least they won't be sleeping in a different city every night. Just the fact that they're going to be in one place for a whole month feels sort of like a vacation, to say nothing of them pretending to be at summer camp the whole time. And Demi's here, and so many of the kids from the first movie are back (so many of them aren't kids anymore, but then Nick guesses he's not, either). It feels like some kind of family reunion. It's going to be great, Nick's really looking forward to it.
Joe's been lit up like a Christmas tree since they met up with Demi earlier. It's only been a couple of months since they saw her last, but she and Joe have always thrived off each others’ energy, egging each other on, which is why they're dangerous when left to themselves. Joe was the one who'd started the prank war culminating in the Jonas Brothers trailer getting toilet papered during the filming of the first movie, and Nick is determined that he won't let things get that out of hand this time. But still, Joe looks really happy to see her again. Nick knows he's missed her.
"You mean, like...a coffee shop sort of deal?" Joe asks, gesturing with his water glass. "Whatever place we pick will get mobbed."
"Well, maybe we could do it outside," she suggests, pushing hair back over her shoulder. "Near the set, maybe?"
"Announce it the day before or something," Nick continues, rolling with the idea. He likes it, the simpleness of it. "We should. Our concerts sold out and you haven't done anything up here since last year, so it'll be a good chance for fans who've missed out on the big concerts."
"Can I set up Kev's guitar case on the ground, for tips?" Joe asks, grinning. Demi swats him on the arm.
"Jeez, Joseph, are you that hard up for money? Still trying to save up for apartment rent, huh?"
At the mention of Joe's apartment-hunting, Nick quietly bristles. It's unfair of him, he knows. But even after Joe and Camilla broke up, Joe still talked frequently of getting his own place, and Nick privately hates it. What is so wrong with the apartment they already have in LA? Joe isn't even planning on moving all that far, the neighborhoods he's checked out have all been within ten minutes of their current place. Mom and dad aren't there that much, anyway, and Kev's planning his wedding for December, so he'll move out then. It's almost like Joe is trying purposefully to get away from Nick. Which is patently untrue, Joe has only asked Nick's opinion on every single apartment he's looked at so far, consulting Nick about furniture like they're moving into a place together, and he rarely brings up the idea of an apartment without mentioning Nick's place in it. But Nick feels left out, anyway. Left behind.
Joe's grinning smugly at Demi. "Hey, in this economy, nobody's safe," he says primly, like he has any idea what he's talking about. Joe has a brilliant eye for fashion and good architecture, and absolutely no head for money whatsoever. Nick will probably end up paying his rent for him out of Joe's checking account, just because Joe will forget. "You gonna come visit me in the bachelor pad, Demetria, once I buy it?"
"Maybe," Demi demurs, smirking at Joe with her eyes over the rim of her glass. "Depends on if your parties are any good."
Joe scowls, mock-affronted. "Hey, if it's me throwing a party, it's guaranteed to be good. Have a little faith, Lovato."
"Let me know when you finally settle on a place, I can help you move in," she replies brightly. "Moving parties are always fun."
Joe laughs. "I could just hire some movers, you know. I'm pretty sure they have them in L.A."
Demi sticks her tongue out at him. "When you've got cheap labor right here?" she asks, gesturing between herself and Nick and throwing Nick a wink. "I'd say 'free labor' except I'm fairly certain we'll at least expect pizza out of the deal. Kev and Dani would probably help, too."
Joe must notice Nick's frowning silence because he elbows him. "Whaddaya say, Nicky? Wanna be moving buddies? Feel like helping me put together bookshelves with your mad DIY skills?"
Nick can't help but reluctantly smile a little, even though the idea of moving Joe out of the house they live in together and into a place where Nick will have to ask permission before visiting makes him feel a little hollow. "If I let you put them together yourself they'd end up looking like the Tower of Pisa."
"Exactly." Joe looks pleased, like he's won a major victory. "You have to help me if only to save me from myself."
"You say that like that's not why any of us do anything," Demi teases.
"Shut up," Joe replies cheerfully. "You all totally love me, too. Right, Nicholas?" Joe leans over nearly out of his seat to hug Nick roughly around the neck. It's at least half-headlock, and completely inappropriate for a restaurant like this, and as much as Nick squirms, Joe only manhandles him more until Nick laughs, helpless and red-faced.
"Yes! Yes, Joseph, we love you! I can't actually breathe."
When Joe finally lets him go, Demi's trying unsuccessfully to stifle her giggling in a piece of garlic bread, and Joe's smiling like he's the happiest man alive right now.
***
Filming is intense, with all the choreography classes on top of the actual shooting. Nick is not much of a dancer and has no aspirations of becoming one, so it's harder for him to pick up some of the stuff that comes so naturally to pretty much everybody else here, many of whom are professional dancers rather than professional singers. It frustrates Nick more than he knows it ought to; no one here is judging him based on his ability (or lack thereof) to dance like a hip hop genius. That's why they have choreographers and professional dancers in the first place, to make the weaker dancers look not quite as bad. But it still chafes Nick that he just can't quite get his body to move in that easy, fluid way that Demi makes look as natural as walking. She's gotten even better since the last movie. She flits around the room between takes, stopping to dance with people as she goes, and Nick can't help but admire her, all her outgoing happiness bubbling up in her smile and the way she moves. She can keep the whole crowd of people pumped up, ready to jump up and dance at a moment's notice, and Nick can't help thinking that that's what makes her so well-liked. She just exudes a good attitude. Even when she isn't feeling great, she's never bratty, never a diva, which Nick can admit he can't always say of himself.
Her good vibes are infectious, making an impromptu little dance party spring up while something is apparently going deeply wrong with one of the cameras. She and Joe start shimmying together while over in the corner one of the guys is perched on a cajon that's part of the set decorating, tapping out a beatbox-style rhythm. Everybody starts dancing with them, Alyson tugging and coaxing Nick to come dance with her, which he does, a little reluctantly, just kind of grooving out on the fringes of the group until she gets bored and starts dancing with some of the other girls instead. Nick kind of drops out, stands back with his hands in his pockets and laughs at Joe and Demi popping together, Demi much more successfully than Joe, who looks a little bit like a glitchy robot.
He eventually notices Nick off to the side not dancing, and, being Joe, is incapable of letting that stand. So he comes over and dances so close Nick nearly topples backward and right into Demi, who has planted herself behind Nick to sandwich him in between. He laughs, a little nervously, and tries halfheartedly to push Joe away. So Joe just smooshes closer and Nick gives up, rolling his eyes and fake-dancing for a couple of seconds just to pacify Joe. Joe's big, goofy smile is almost enough to make it worth the embarrassment.
The AD hollers that the camera's finally back up and running, and the percussion stops as everyone spreads out to their respective places, laughing and smiling, in high spirits. It's only the first week of filming, so there's plenty of time left for everybody to burn out and get tired, but it's still pretty indicative of how well everyone's going to get along that during what could have been a frustrating delay, everyone's kept a good attitude, including the crew, who are laughing at Joe as he grabs Demi from around behind Nick and twirls her elaborately once, spinning her out and kissing her hand. Demi's laughing so much her cheeks are flushed, her eyes crinkled up into glittery slits. Joe looks extraordinarily pleased with himself, and he turns to Nick, grinning huge.
Nick's eyes widen, recognizing the look on his brother's face. "Joe, no, don't--"
But it's too late. Joe's already opened his arms up and flung them around Nick. Nick heaves an exasperated sigh and tries to mitigate the unnecessary display of affection by putting an arm loosely around Joe, sort of a cursory, "okay, that's enough" kind of hug. Rather than having the intended effect of making the hug fizzle out, that just seems to encourage Joe, who tightens his arms around Nick like he's part boa constrictor.
"What, Joe, stop, okay?" Nick pushes at Joe's chest with his other hand, but Joe is immovable as a rock. He laughs uneasily again, and Joe gives him a squeeze.
"You okay, Nicky?" he murmurs against Nick's hair. "You're such an outsider today."
"I...yes, Joe, I'm fine. I just don't feel like dancing. Or like being crushed to death, thank you very much."
He can feel Joe's smile. "Aww, Nick, you're a good dancer. You gotta just let gooo. And get loose." Joe hauls Nick side to side a little, almost knocking them both off-balance. "You gotta feeeel the rhythm, Nicholas."
"I feeeel like being let go now, please. Joe."
Joe finally complies, but he's looking at Nick seriously when he steps back, keeps his hand on Nick's shoulder, curled up around the crook where it meets his neck. He presses his fingers in, there, like feeling to make sure Nick's real, there. Okay. Nick feels his ears go warm. Joe gets the same kind of serious look in his eyes after he's kissed Nick goodnight, most nights. Like he has to reassure himself Nick's doing alright.
"You're doing good, Nick. Really good."
"Thanks," Nick mumbles, ducking his head a little. Joe knows Nick's uncomfortable dancing. Doesn't quite get it. Nick appreciates the vote of confidence, but Joe's scrutiny is making Nick start to feel kind of hot and itchy in his skin. Especially with Joe all flushed-faced and slightly out of breath from dancing in the un-air conditioned cabin.
Joe smiles huge, like he knows somehow what Nick's thinking, and Nick shoves him back a little, rolling his eyes. He looks over at Demi, like, seriously, can you believe him? But Demi's got this really odd, thoughtful look on her face, her eyes sharp and bright and considering, like she's trying to figure something out. Nick clears his throat and is glad the AD calls them all to their marks before any of them can say anything else.
***
Joe turns the "extra" bathroom into a kitchen. Of course.
Nick actually tried to use it the first morning they were there, but Joe grabbed him and steered him out and into the one adjacent to Joe's room. "Nooo," he said sternly, pushing Nick into the bathroom already bursting with Joe's beauty regimen and snicking the door closed before Nick could protest. "I have plans for that room," he called through the door, and that was all he'd say.
By Friday of the first week his "plans" have borne out; he's swiped one of the low coffeetables out of Nick's bedroom (breezily informing Nick that he needed all of his own and Nick wasn't going to use this one anyway, which was made no less astonishing and vaguely offensive for being true) and slotted it into place over the toilet, setting up an honest-to-god spice rack on it. He's obliterated the sink space with an absolutely gargantuan electric griddle, and there is a carousel of kitchen utensils on top of the toilet tank.
"I was gonna try to get a mini-fridge and stick it in the bathtub," Joe says, frowning with clear frustration. "But it's against hotel policy."
Nick pinches the bridge of his nose as he leans in the door of the bath-kitchen. His lip is twitching because the traitor part of him that thinks Joe is pretty much the most amazing person alive wants to laugh so hard right now; the part of Nick that is a sensible adult is strongly considering bursting into tears.
"We have a mini-fridge in the living room, Joseph," Nick points out, though he knows it will do no good.
"Well, yeah," Joe says, flipping a hand and grinning. "But we've got water and orange juice and stuff in there. There was barely any room for the burgers!"
Nick just stares. "Burgers?"
"Yup. I'm making us all steak burgers tonight. Demi and the other girls are going out, so I thought we'd stay in and I'd cook for us. You and me and Kev and Dani." Joe smiles brilliantly. "Sound good?"
"You're gonna grill out," Nick repeats, just making sure he has it all straight. "In our bathroom."
"Steak burgers," Joe confirms. His smile begins to look a bit fragile, like the least disapproval from Nick could splinter it and plunge Joe into a frown.
It's ridiculous - the whole thing is ridiculous, Joe wants to cook hamburgers in a bathroom, for their brother's fiancee - but Nick can't help it. He smiles. Because it's ridiculous, but it's also kind of insanely brilliant.
Which, in a sentence, pretty much sums up his big brother.
"It sounds great, Joe," he says, meaning it, smiling warm and crooked as he sticks his hands in his pockets. "Need any help?"
Nick takes a picture with his cell phone, of Joe standing there, in sweatpants, grilling burger patties in the bathroom. He teases Joe that he's finally found his place, barefoot in the kitchen cooking for Nick, and Joe grins and blushes brilliantly, looking extremely pleased for some reason and not bothering to deny it. Nick even makes it the background of his phone, and Joe attempts to assault him with his greasy spatula.
Kev and Dani show up, looking politely dubious, and then alarmed when Joe shows them his five-star kitchen. But after he and Nick swear repeatedly on their lives that they never so much as brushed their teeth in the sink, Kev relaxes, and Dani actually looks a little intrigued. Dinner is pretty fantastic, everyone agrees. Joe got all the fixings: chips and soda to go with the burgers and some strawberry angel food cake that reminds Nick of the Fourth of July, even though it's September.
Dani thanks Joe sweetly for dinner, kissing him on the cheek, which only makes Joe make a big deal of pretending to kidnap Dani away from Kevin, mostly so that Kev can come "rescue" her, scoop her up, and take her back to their own room and out of Joe's clutches.
Joe and Nick do the dishes in the "real" bathroom. (Joe's moniker, which Nick supposes is as good as any other.) It's only just the utensils Joe used to cook with, and a bowl he'd mixed an herb rub in, so Nick volunteers to do the washing, since Joe had cooked. Joe sits on the counter and keeps him company.
"I'll make you an omelet tomorrow," Joe says, "for breakfast. I bought some English muffins, even." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Better than room service, right?"
"Well, the price is definitely right," Nick says glibly, and laughs when Joe makes an offended noise and kicks him in the thigh with one bare foot. "Yes, Joe. Way better than room service. You should try to see if you can get on as the hotel chef."
Joe brightens. "Hey, that's an idea, do you reckon they give cooking lessons here?"
"I don't think hotels do that," Nick says kindly, drying off the last dish and setting it aside. He leans his hip against the counter. "And you've had cooking lessons once already."
"Yeah, but I always feel like I need more," Joe replies, wrinkling his nose a little. "I feel like I still need to learn a lot."
"I think you're pretty good," Nick says quietly, smiling at Joe. Joe looks surprised, then a little embarrassed, and a lot pleased.
"Thanks, Nicky," he says, kicking at Nick again. Nick catches hold of Joe's foot by the heel and tickles the bottom of it, sending Joe spasming into laughter, flailing so hard he nearly falls off the sink.
Nick takes a quick shower and then crawls into his bed. It's not late but he was up early, and his levels were a little lower than normal that evening. He feels kind of drained. It's an almost indescribable relief to know that he can sleep in a little the next morning (his call to makeup isn't until ten, an almost unheard-of luxury of time for him) and not have to climb on a bus or a plane at the end of the day. Nick hadn't known just how much he'd missed a little permanence.
Joe wanders in about five minutes later, as Nick is closing and setting aside his laptop for the night. Joe clambers unceremoniously into Nick's bed without asking and flops down next to him, bunching up the down pillow under his head like he has every intention of staying. Nick holds up the blanket so Joe can slip his feet under it, then flips off the lamp and settles in himself, facing Joe.
Sometimes Joe comes in and sleeps with Nick because he wants to talk, and sometimes he just wants to be close to Nick for inscrutable reasons of his own. Nick usually doesn't ask. Sometimes he thinks he might understand, and sometimes he thinks that if he does, he doesn't really want to have to make Joe say it.
Besides, he knows Joe would hold up the blankets for Nick to climb under if ever Nick wanted to come in and stay with Joe, no questions asked.
"Night, Nick," Joe whispers into the dark, leaning in to kiss Nick really soft, almost uncharacteristically sweet. Joe's kisses are always sweet by default, but they're usually something else, too - clumsy or sleepy or maybe overeager. This is just...sweet. Soft and slow. Nick's reminded of being eleven and kissing Joe for the first time, how neither one of them really knew what to do, and how they figured it out. The memory makes Nick ache everywhere, but it's good.
It's over before he wants it to be, and Nick, still feeling needy, wants to reach out and pull Joe back in, kiss him again, a little harder, a little more serious. A little more scary. Joe sinks sleepily back to the pillow, though, so Nick only says, "Night, Joe," and burrows under the blankets to sleep.
***
Nick wakes later in the night, after what feels like a long time but when it's still dark, feeling feverish-hot and disoriented. It takes him a while to figure out why his bed feels so ridiculously warm, until he remembers that Joe went to sleep next to him, and Joe has a core body temperature of approximately a hundred and forty-two. Nick murmurs a little to himself, sleepily, and rubs at his eyes, then notices that Joe's gone very, very still next to him. Nick hadn't even realized he was moving until he stopped.
"Joe?" Nick mumbles, clawing up closer to awake every second. His brain starts pulling things together, but not enough to really make any sense. "Joe?"
"Nicky," Joe whispers, very quietly. "Go back to sleep, it's okay."
Nick frowns, flops over on his side to face Joe, who's still turned toward him. "What's wrong?" he asks.
"Nothing," Joe replies.
"What were you doing?"
"...Nothing."
Nick blinks blearily. Part of him knows that's bullshit but he can't quite pinpoint why. He squints at Joe; in the not-light, he can see Joe's eyes are open, watching him. Joe has one arm curled up under his pillow, and the other one is tucked under the blanket. Nick can't see where it goes.
"Joe?"
"Nick, I..." Joe swallows, seems to think very hard about something for a second. "I just." He leans in and kisses Nick, soft like before, surprising Nick. He instantly licks into Nick's slack mouth before Nick even really knows what's happening, parts Nick's lips with his tongue, his kiss going hot and insistent almost immediately. Nick shudders and kisses back, feeling helpless to do anything else, and Joe makes an indescribable sound, shifting a little closer in the bed to kiss Nick deeper.
Nick doesn't notice Joe's arm moving right away; he becomes aware gradually of the flexing motion of it, the very soft skin-sound of Joe's hand moving on himself. He gasps, even though he thinks he knows that's what Joe was doing. They don't...they haven't ever...done that. Not in the whole time they've been kissing, they've never...touched. Not each other, not themselves when they're with each other. Not that Nick's not thought about it, guiltily and trying not to. About what it would be like to do more than kiss, about what it would mean. The idea is too huge. He's always shied away from it. Now that it's actually happening, he tries not to think about it, still. It's not like there's anything he can do. He isn't going to stop Joe. He doesn't really want to.
Joe makes a soft sound against Nick's mouth, almost a whimper, and everything's so dark and quiet and close that it feels almost like this could be just a dream. Just something Nick's mind is making up for him. It wouldn't be the first time. He's dreamed about his brother ever since he can remember, and he's dreamed about Joe like this for almost as long. Nick remembers being twelve or thirteen, young, still, and just starting to realize his body was doing weird crap that he couldn't control; Joe was kissing him one time, really kissing him, one of those times Joe had seemed like he just couldn't quite hug Nick enough, kiss him enough, and Nick had gotten hard for the first time while actually awake. He hadn't even really known he could make it happen while he was awake. And it had freaked him out and he'd pulled away, but as soon as Joe realized what was wrong, he moved his hips so Nick could feel that he was hard too. See? It's okay. It's normal, he said, and then kissed Nick again, kept kissing til they fell asleep.
This reminds Nick of that, even though it's not the same. Nick feels like a little kid again, kind of awed, kind of scared, but mostly he can hear Joe's voice in his head saying, it's okay. It's normal. It's okay.
And it's...it's not, is the thing. Nick knows it's not. But he can't answer for why nothing about this actually feels wrong. He doesn't have a good reason for not stopping Joe, for letting Joe keep kissing him like this when Joe's clearly getting off on it. (It's hard to even think that, to even get his brain around the fact Joe is jerking it, Joe will come soon, if Nick doesn't stop him, and he won't.) It's not what they do, but Nick's somehow always wondered if they could. And here's the answer: Joe making soft, desperate sounds against Nick's mouth and his body kind of curling in on itself and trembling, and the world not ending. Nothing happens that Nick has always been obliquely afraid of. It's just Joe and Nick in this bed, kissing like they really both believe the world could end, and Joe sounding like he's almost hurting himself, frantic with what sounds like more than just the need to get off.
"Nick," he murmurs, out of breath. "Nicky, I...please, I..."
Joe sounds lost, and Nick can't stop himself. He sits up a little on his elbow, looms over Joe and pushes at Joe's shoulder til he's flat on his back. He doesn't stop kissing him for a second, and now Joe's just losing it, not even trying to hide it anymore, his hips bucking up into his hand, and he's so close he's practically vibrating.
"Joey," Nick says, presses his hand to Joe's cheek and bites Joe's lower lip. Joe keens, jerking hard once, and then he's coming, Nick can tell from the erratic way his hips are moving, the way Joe's not really breathing.
"Nick," Joe slurs before he can possibly be capable of really talking, yet. He can't even open his eyes. "Nicky, love you, love you." He says it fast, words bumping together in his rush, like he's terrified he'll lose his chance if he doesn't grab it as fast as he can. He curls his free hand into the front of Nick's t-shirt, pulling Nick back in, kissing the corner of his mouth clumsily. "Love you."
Nick pets at Joe's face, his rough stubble scratching lightly at Nick's callused palm. "I know," he says. He does know. He's never doubted for a second. He doesn't feel any different now than after Joe kisses him goodnight. It feels just the same, right down to Joe slitting open his eyes and watching him hard for a moment or two, just to be sure Nick's telling the truth. "I love you too," Nick says, firmly, almost like a command.
Joe nods briefly. Then he moves his hand from his own dick right across to Nick's, curling his fingers on it, and Nick realizes, dumbly, for the first time that he's hard. He hisses, surprised and pleasure-shocked.
"Nick," Joe says, in exactly the same tone Nick's heard a hundred thousand times right before Joe either grabs him or says "watch this." But now, Joe just crowds right into Nick's space, before Nick can even think of a word to say, and presses Nick over onto his back the same way Nick had just moved Joe. Joe's hand is in Nick's boxers before he can protest; all he can do is squirm and twitch, moan a little.
"Yeah," Joe says, awe in his voice. "Yeah, Nick, you're..." It's obvious what Nick is, hard and rapidly flying out of control, pressing his dick up into his brother's hand. He can't think about it. It seems right for Joe's voice to be in his ear. "That's it, Nicky, that's it."
Nick shudders. He hadn't known he was hard but now it's all that's in his head, how good it feels, all of it, Joe's hand, his weight half-laying on Nick, how he smells, all sleep-warm and comed-out. Everything about him is so Joe right now, hand overzealous, breath quick and light against Nick's lips where he's hovering, too close, always too close and in Nick's personal space. Nick bucks up, groaning and squeezing his eyes shut, and precum wells out and over, he can feel it rise like mercury in a tube, and then Joe's spreading it around with his thumb, openly fascinated and watching, breathing out an "oh." It's so typical of Joe that it makes Nick's heart ache, heavy, and he comes without even meaning to, without even knowing it was going to happen, the feeling just wringing out of him from somewhere very, very deep.
Joe doesn't let go even when Nick twitches and grunts, oversensitive; he's intent on milking out everything in Nick's body, apparently. Nick eventually has nothing left to give and just sprawls, shellshocked and numb with too much pleasure, Joe's weight on him increasing as Joe leans more heavily on him, inspecting his face for signs of life, maybe.
"Nick," he whispers, rearranging his boxers with unexpected but characteristic gentleness. "Are you alive?"
"Yes, Joseph. More or less."
"Good." Pause. "Are you okay?"
"I'm...really tired," Nick answers honestly, opening his eyes and looking up into Joe's. "We should sleep now, probably."
"Yeah, probably." But Joe still doesn't move. So Nick, not even thinking, tangles his fingers in Joe's thick, soft hair and pulls him down, kissing the corner of his mouth until Joe turns his head to fit them together better. Joe's mouth is soft and a little swollen, hot, and Nick thinks, this is what Joe looks and feels like after he comes, and doesn't know what to do with that.
Luckily, Joe seems satisfied. He settles down, still kind of draped along Nick's side, his arm flung over Nick's waist. "Night, Nicky," he mumbles throatily against Nick's shoulder. Nick rubs his face with one hand and yawns, his eyes dropping closed. He scratches lightly at Joe's head with the fingers still buried in his hair.
"Night, Joe."
***
Joe is unusually clingy all the next day, even for Joe, and Nick is quietly freaking the fuck out. He woke up next to Joe and for about ten seconds was completely and utterly happy, wrapped up in a cocoon of blanket and brother, warm all the way into his bones. And then he remembered.
Now he can't stop remembering. He can't stop thinking about it. Which is actually no help whatsoever because thinking about it...thinking about it makes his body remember, and his body is not as sensible or reasonable a thing as his brain. His body only remembers that it was good and that it was Joe, which made it better. He can't seem to convince it that it was bad, wrong, extremely stupid. He can't even believe it happened, can't believe he let himself do that, do any of it. Saying no to Joe has always been difficult to the point of impossibility for Nick, partly because Joe is a persistent weirdo but mostly because Nick just loves him so much he can't stand to see him unhappy. But this should have been a time Nick could say no. He should have said no. He doesn't know why he didn't, and he feels like shit. He's panicking so badly he's shaking on set, which only sends everyone else into a tizzy when they notice, grilling him about his levels and whether he ate breakfast and what he had to eat and whether he feels okay. And all Nick can do is answer their questions hollowly, try and reassure them without even being able to muster a smile because what has he done?
Joe notices Nick's unease, of course. He's the first person to notice it, and he hangs closer to Nick all day than he should, enough to set all of Nick's ragged nerves thrumming with frustration boiling to an inevitable conclusion. Nick can feel the blowup coming, but he is powerless to stop it. It's all building up in him all day like some noxious flammable substance expanding and expanding in an enclosed space.
Filming that day isn't good. Even Demi's unshakable cheerfulnes can't buoy up the pall that Nick's brought down on the whole set. Everyone's worried about him, and he wishes they would just stop, because this is his own screw-up, his own enormous, impossible mistake, and he can't tell anyone, can't let anyone know or guess. Nick's always been a little given to paranoia, unnecessary worry about his own worth and ability, and when he's in a stew about something it can really get the better of him. Usually Joe is there to get Nick out of his poisonous headspace, but today he's the last person Nick can lean on.
The only blessing is that it's a short day of work, Nick only needed for just a handful of scenes before he's sent back to the hotel with an unspoken but palpable sense of relief in the crew. It nettles Nick further, and he's practically storming around gathering his things from their trailer, getting ready to go, when the door swings back and Joe bounds up inside, looking for Nick.
"Hey," he says, and he's a little out of breath like he ran from the set to get here. "You going back?"
"Yeah," Nick says, not looking up at Joe, stuffing things into his satchel. "Yeah, I think I'm gonna go back, maybe go for a run or something. Take a nap."
Joe gets in close, puts his hand on Nick's shoulder, and Nick stiffens a little. Joe doesn't seem to notice. "You okay, Nicky? You feeling alright?" Joe's hand comes up and cups Nick's cheek, feeling at him almost, as if for a fever. "You look really drained."
Nick shrugs off Joe's hand, but Joe doesn't move back, any, and Nick's heart is pounding too fast. "I'm just. I'm tired, Joe. Is all."
"Didn't sleep good?"
Nick shoots him a sharp look, wondering if he's being obnoxious or purposefully obtuse, but Joe just looks back at him with level concern. "I really don't wanna talk about how I slept, okay? Don't screw around, Joe."
Joe pales a little. "Nick, what...?"
"You know what." They're standing there inches apart, and Nick feels like he's encased in impenetrable glass, able to see his brother, but not to reach out to him. Can't reach out and touch him, no matter what.
Joe's brow folds up in a complicated expression Nick isn't sure he can decipher. "Nick," he says, and his voice is subtly different. "What's wrong? I thought you...I thought it--"
"It wasn't, okay?" Nick says, sharper than he means to. "It isn't...we can't, Joe, you know that!"
"But...Nick, it's always been that. Since...since I can remember, it's been that."
Nick's shaking his head, and he's starting to tremble again. He feels distinctly unwell. "No, it wasn't. I mean. I don't know, maybe it was, but it shouldn't have been. We shouldn't have been fooling around, it's not right, Joe." He feels kind of like his knees are going to give out, and he sits heavily on the nearest chair. "It's...do you know what you're saying?"
"Yes," Joe says, so immediately it startles Nick a little. "I know. And I know I shouldn't say it, but it's you and me, Nick. It's always been you and me." His voice is a little smaller when he adds, "I don't know how else to be."
Nick looks up at him, finally, at the desolate look of resolve on Joe's face that Nick feels completely responsible for. He just isn't sure now whether he should have stopped all this years ago, before Joe had time to get attached to it, or if he should give in now to what Joe’s insisting and wipe that look away. A trembling, greedy part of him wants to, so bad. "We should..." he starts, then stops, licks his lips, steels himself. "We can't be like this. Not...not anymore. Okay? It's...this was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened, and it can't happen again. We're too old for this now. We aren't kids anymore."
Joe sits down into the chair opposite Nick, looking crumpled and lessened. Nick expects him to argue and disagree, push a little, but it's several seconds before Joe says anything at all. "You...you're sure, Nick?" he says, and the earnestness in his voice nearly breaks Nick's heart.
"Joe," he says, pleading, as if Joe really had argued with him and needed to be convinced. "How can we not want to stop this? It's out of hand. We should, we should want to stop."
"I don't," Joe shoots back. "Do you?"
Nick doesn't reply to that. He can't, in any honesty. "We have to," is all he says, like it’s his last line of defense. "We can't keep doing it, Joe. Even...even if we want to," he adds, blurting it out, purging it. Joe sucks in a breath. He reaches out for Nick, and Nick stands, pulls his bag strap over his head and stuffs his hands into his pockets. Joe's eyes are huge and locked on him, and Nick just...he doesn't even know what he wants right now. To turn tail and run, to grab Joe and crush him in a hug, to yell and scream like he's needed to do all day. All that force is still pent up in him, waiting to explode, making him buzz with it.
He chooses instead to walk to the door of the trailer, methodically almost, and just before he opens it Joe says, "Nick!" sudden and sharp, like he's afraid. It's the tone of voice one would use to stop someone walking out into oncoming traffic. Nick looks at him, and Joe just says in a really tiny voice, "I love you."
"I love you too," Nick replies, and doesn't know how he means it, and that makes him shudder, everything in him confused.
It doesn't make any difference, anyway.
***
Everything is weird and off between Joe and Nick for the rest of filming, but it's not, Nick thinks, as bad as it could be. Joe acts much the same as he always has, still talks to Nick, still even cooks him breakfast in his ridiculous makeshift kitchen. But everything he does is subdued. Like the way he is when he's tired or sick or something. He talks quieter around Nick, doesn't laugh as much, speaks almost cautiously. It's unsettling, but then Nick is already unsettled, still wracked with guilt. Frustratingly, his guilt is less about the fact that he did what he did with Joe and more about the fact that he doesn't feel worse about it. This is a self-perpetuating cycle, of course, and it's one Nick can't seem to break out of. He just can't let it go, for some reason; he'd like to just chalk it up to...whatever, sleepiness or raging hormones or experimentation or just sheer stupidity, call it a loss and move on. But he can't. He keeps flashing back to it. He dreams about it, not like his normal Joe dreams where he sees stuff they've never done and might not actually be physically possible, almost ludicrous in their blatant fantasy, but the exact same situation, playing like a movie in his head, frighteningly tangible and immediate. He remembers the way Joe said his name then, like it was his lifeline, and how he looked when he came. He can't just forget that. He's pretty sure it's not something he'll ever not think about again.
Their friends seem to feel the fissure between them, intuitively; that or he and Joe are being a lot more obvious than Nick thinks they are. Demi looks really upset sometimes, on the days Joe looks bleakest and Nick's feeling the most self-destructive. She seems to be trying to act as a go-between, hanging out with them individually, solicitous to the point that Nick is perhaps a little more sharp with her than he means to be. He regrets it, but after that, Demi backs off a little, hangs mostly with Joe, who needs the vast majority of the cheering up, anyway. Nick wishes he could help, wishes he knew how to un-break them except to just leave the wound alone and allow it to heal. For now, though, that's all he really knows how to do.
The most major difference, the weirdest gap in Nick's life now, is not having Joe kiss him. Nick hadn't realized just what an integral part of his life it was, how much he practically set his internal clock by Joe dropping unsolicited affection on him like a benevolent and vaguely misdirected deity. Joe doesn't really hug him anymore, either. He'll start to, sometimes, move in toward Nick like he's magnetized, start to reach out or open his arms. Then he'll stop and his expression will change and he'll just pat Nick on the back, maybe, or ruffle his hair.
If his hand lingers just a half-beat too long, sometimes, Nick doesn't have the heart to point it out.
They get through the rest of filming, somehow. Some days it even seems okay. Joe makes them "Canadian Thanksgiving dinner," the major difference being, as far as Nick can tell, a preponderance of Canadian bacon instead of turkey. It's good, and Joe invited basically everybody, and for a while everything is almost back to normal, again. Then Nick catches Joe's eye and Joe smiles, and then his smile cracks and falters and they both look back down at their plates. Nick guesses Joe's finally feeling a little of the same guilt that's been dogging Nick. He finally gets it, Nick thinks; he understands that this isn't good, it isn't healthy, and it sure as hell isn't right. So why do things still feel so tense? Nick had hoped that once it finally sank in for Joe, he'd sort of go back to being the Joe he was, minus the kissing, and they could stop acting like there was this enormous unacknowledged elephant in the room every time they talked.
Nick's still pretty miserable about it all, and especially for making Joe unhappy, too. He never wanted Joe to be miserable. This is the thing Nick feels he needs to punish himself for most. He isn't sure why; logically Joe is as much to blame as Nick is, maybe even more. But Nick's always the sensible one, the grown-up one, and Joe is the impulsive one, the easily-hurt one. It should've been Nick, and it should've been ages ago. It hurts worse now because they've gotten too dependent. They just need to relearn how to be Nick and Joe, separate entities. Tours make things different, blur lines; you're much more likely to be half naked or even totally naked in front of random people on tour than you would be at home. Nick figures that might be part of the problem. Maybe he and Joe let their affection grow too much when they're away from home. The lines that are clear when your parents are down the hall maybe fade a little when they're across the country and you're living on top of each other. It's not an excuse, but Nick hopes that it'll eventually be enough of a reason for him to let himself forget it happened and move on.
If only part of him didn't want to forget, didn't want to hang on to how it felt to have Joe touch him, unasked, unapologetic. If only it hadn't felt just like everything else that had come before, Nick doesn't think he'd feel so confused about it now.
But he'll have space and time to think about it soon. After Christmas, he will have even scarier things to keep his attention: his own tour to play, all by himself. (Well, his band will be there, but they aren't his brothers.) And Joe will be in Australia. They'll literally be about as far apart as it will be possible to be. They'll remember that they have distinct lives that don't always overlap, that they aren't actually all there is in each others' worlds. That should be enough. It'll have to be enough.
***
part II