Never Finished Fic: Must Seem So Strange (Mike/Kevin, FRM, 28,000 words) 2/3
Master Post - Part 1
This is the best pizza Kevin has ever had. Ever. The toppings are actually baked in between layers of crust, and every time he takes a bite, his mouth fills with cheese.
"You can never tell Nick," he groans. "Never. This is so much worse than diner food."
Mike chuckles. "I promise." He licks sauce off of his lip, which is unfairly distracting. Kevin could watch him do that all day.
He's so distracted by Mike that he doesn't register the purposeful movement toward them until there are two girls who can't be more than fifteen almost to their table.
Kevin knows exactly how to deal with this. He sits up straighter, and swipes his napkin over his mouth to catch any sauce or grease.
The girls walk straight up to Mike.
"Mike?" one of them says, the other one half hiding behind her. "We're sorry to bother you, but would you sign something for us?"
Mike smiles at them. "Yeah, sure." He pulls a Sharpie out of his pocket, and one of the girls has a small notebook in her purse. "So what's your name?" he asks.
He's good at it, interacting with the kids. Kevin probably shouldn't be surprised. Mike's been doing this even longer than Kevin has, if not on the same scale, and Kevin's read enough about The Academy Is... to know their fans are the same teenagers as Kevin's fans, but it's still not what he expected. Of course, what he expected was for the girls to talk to him, so maybe what he expects isn't a particularly good measure of what's going to happen.
One of the girls asks if they can get a picture, too.
"Sure." Mike slides out of the booth, and has the girl hand her iPhone over to Kevin so both girls can be in the picture together. Kevin stands up too, to get the right angle for the picture. He takes two of them, and hands the phone back.
"Thanks," the girl says to Kevin, and then both girls effusively thank Mike.
Kevin is fairly used to fans being more excited about the people he's with than him, but usually the people he's with are his brothers.
Mike nudges his foot against Kevin's. "You didn't expect that."
Kevin's pretty sure Mike's laughing at him again. "No," he admits. "But I guess it makes sense. It's your hometown."
Mike smirks at him. "And unlike zebras, you're less noticeable when separated from the herd."
Kevin's heart flutters a little bit at Mike referencing zebras.
"I guess so." He smiles. "It's kind of nice." He leans toward Mike. "I wasn't sure I'd get to come alone. Big Rob's pretty strict about security these days."
"I guess that's the good thing about not being that famous," Mike says. "Even when we do have security, they're usually just keeping Bill safe." He shrugs. "He's the favorite."
"You're my favorite," Kevin says without thinking about it. He flushes.
Mike ducks his head. "Well, I guess you're my favorite Jonas Brother."
They sort of smile at each other for a minute.
"Okay," Mike says, "best, worst, and weirdest fan encounters."
They trade fan stories, tour stories, and Thanksgiving stories. Their waitress keeps refilling their water glasses, and doesn't seem bothered by their lingering. Even so, they order dessert when the place starts to fill up with the dinner crowd.
Watching Mike eat dessert is quickly becoming one of Kevin's favorite things to do. This time he ordered cannoli, and he keeps licking the filling off his lips.
When it gets late enough that they have to leave, Kevin tries to pick up the check, but Mike won't let him.
"My hometown," he says, "my treat."
Kevin gives in gracefully and is pleased, when he peeks at the charge slip, that Mike leaves a generous tip.
Kevin texts Big Rob when they leave and again as they pull into the bustle of O'Hare. Mike stops the car as close to where Big Rob is waiting in front of the terminal as he can, then gets out of the car with Kevin.
Mike's good at hugs. He doesn't pull away too soon like some people do, and it feels really good to hug him.
"Thanks," Kevin says, "for lunch and hanging out with me and everything."
"Anytime you're in town." Mike grins. "I know lots of places Nick wouldn't approve of."
Kevin grins back. "Awesome. Until next time then."
"Until next time," Mike agrees. He touches Kevin's arm. "I'll call you."
"I'll answer." It's kind of a dumb thing to say, but Mike laughs, and that's a good sound to hold onto as he heads toward Big Rob and back into the airport.
*
Mike called to ask Kevin, "Are you serious?" when he first opened the box that came in the mail and found two wrapped boxes with cheery "Do not open until Christmas!" stickers on them. Kevin had assured him he was completely serious, and the boxes have been sitting in the corner of Mike's living room ever since.
Christmas morning is only more torturous, because Mike knows Kevin's in L.A., which means he's two hours earlier, and since Mike's up around ten, it's probably too early to call. Even if he is pretty sure the Jonases are an early rising family.
Mike's family is not. He doesn't have to be at his parents' until three.
Mike's phone rings just after one. He picks it up with a grin to Kevin's "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," Mike says.
"I would've called earlier," Kevin says, sounding apologetic, "but we did stockings and breakfast, and then church, and things are pretty crazy around here. Joe and Frankie are begging to open presents even though they know we don't do that until after lunch."
"Wow," Mike says, "and all I've done this morning is have a cup of coffee and watch It's A Wonderful Life."
"Oh, man, I haven't seen that in years."
Mike chuckles. "It hasn't changed."
"Angels still get their wings when a bell rings?"
Mike can pretty much see the teasing smile on Kevin's face.
"Yep, but I don't have any bells," Mike teases back.
"We have some on the tree," Kevin tells him, "but if I go out there, this conversation will be over pretty much immediately."
Mike really wants to ask if he can open his presents now, but it seems rude. "Don't go out there," he says instead. "Where are you that's safe?"
"My room. Frankie might come up here, but I can always send him back down to Mom. But," Kevin says, "I brought my present from you up here so you can listen to me unwrap it."
"I can't believe you actually made me wait." Mike gets the boxes and sits down on the couch with them. "You know they've been driving me crazy."
"Waiting just makes opening presents even better."
Kevin says it completely without irony, and Mike considers it for a couple of seconds before he says, "That's what they tell you about sex, too, isn't it?"
Kevin's silent for a long moment. Mike holds his breath.
"That is what they tell us. I guess I'll find out."
Mike exhales. At least it wasn't a complete mistake. Fuck, he's gotten attached to Kevin in the last two months.
"Go on," Kevin says, "since you're so impatient, you can open your presents first. Start with the one in red paper."
Mike cradles his phone between his ear and his shoulder and rips the paper as loudly as he can. There's a nondescript white box under the paper. Mike opens the box and peels back the tissue paper to reveal the ugliest sweater he's ever seen. And that includes anything Bill has ever owned.
"What the fuck?"
Kevin manages to say, "Christmas sweaters are an important tradition," before he starts laughing. It's a nice sound.
Mike glares at the sweater. "Do you actually expect me to wear this?"
Kevin's still laughing as he says, "Don't you want to show your family what your friends got you for Christmas?"
"I don't want them to think my friends all have terrible taste. Bill is bad enough." Mike covers the sweater up with its tissue paper, and then puts the top of the box back on for good measure. "Can I open the other one now?"
Kevin chuckles. "Yes. You'll like it better."
"I hope so," Mike mutters. "You didn't get me a matching scarf and mittens, did you?" He puts the sweater box on the floor and tugs the other, heavier package onto his lap.
"No. Maybe for New Year's," Kevin muses.
"Please don't." Mike tears the paper on the second package. It's also a box, with a logo on it. Mike doesn't quite believe it until he opens the box. "Holy shit." They're boots. Amazing boots. Black, lace-up, and his size.
"Do they fit?" Kevin sounds almost as excited about them as Mike feels.
"Dude," Mike says, "let me put them on." He pulls them out of the box and starts lacing them up. "Why do shoes never come laced?"
"I don't know. Because it costs them less to make us do it?"
"That must be it." Mike pulls the boots on, tightens and ties the laces, and stands up. "Man, these are awesome." He walks across the living room, into the kitchen, and back to the couch. "They fit perfectly. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome." Kevin sounds pleased. "I want you to know that I managed to pick them out all by myself. I didn't even need Joe or Nick's help to find you something suitably badass."
"I'm very proud." Mike leans his elbows on his knees so he can keep looking at his boots while he talks. "Your turn."
"This is so beautifully wrapped," Kevin says, "it almost seems a shame to ruin it."
Mike rolls his eyes even though Kevin can't see him. "Just open it. That's what you're supposed to do with Christmas presents."
"Okay, okay. I'm opening it already!"
Mike can't even hear the rustle of the paper. "Are you one of those people who peels the tape back?"
"It's so pretty!"
Mike sighs. "You're supposed to tear the paper. It's the best part about opening presents."
"Even Frankie doesn't do that," Kevin says. Mike can hear the paper tearing now. "Your Christmas must be totally different."
Mike grins. "I'll bet. Chaos and booze instead of church and wholesomeness."
"Oh!" Kevin practically squeals. "It's so adorable!"
Mike knows what he's looking at: the cutest stuffed zebra online shopping could provide, with a cheerful red ribbon tied around its neck. He smiles at the phone. "I thought since you couldn't be one for Halloween."
"Now I can have one," Kevin finishes. "I'm taking this on tour with me."
Mike can't hear the rustle of tissue paper as Kevin takes the other part of his gift out of the box, but he can imagine it.
"Mike," he says softly, "thank you. This is perfect."
The other part of his present is a carefully framed certificate declaring him a friend of the zebra and memorializing a donation given in his name for zebra conservation.
"I thought it was your kind of thing."
"It totally, totally is," Kevin says. "Nothing anyone else got me is going to measure up to this. And Joe's been dropping hints about how he got us all the best presents ever this year."
"I'd be a pretty sorry excuse for a man if I couldn't outshop Joe."
Kevin sighs with completely fake resignation. "And he's the cool one."
"Yeah, right," Mike snorts. "Bonus is the cool one. The three of you are just playing catch-up."
"Ouch," Kevin says, cheerfully enough that Mike knows he doesn't mean it. "Maybe you want to talk to him then."
"Nah," Mike says. "I knew you weren't cool from the beginning."
"Ooh, ouch again," Kevin says. "I don't know why I talk to you. You're bad for my ego."
"You talk to me because having friends like me is the only thing keeping you at all cool."
"Millions of teenage girls would disagree with you."
"Kevin," another voice Mike recognizes as Frankie's says in the background before Mike can respond, "Mom says it's time to come down for lunch."
"I'll be there in a minute," Kevin says to Frankie, and then to Mike, "I have to go."
"Yeah," Mike says. "Tell your family I said Merry Christmas."
"I will. And same to yours, and your band. And you. And thank you."
Mike laughs a little at Kevin's attempt to include everyone. "Merry Christmas, Kevin."
"Merry Christmas, Mike."
Three minutes after Mike hangs up, his phone buzzes with a message. It's a picture of Kevin smiling with the stuffed zebra cuddled under his chin. Mike not only saves it, he makes it his phone's background, replacing a picture of Kevin smiling with a ridiculous paper crown on his head.
Then he opens the sweater box again and replaces his hoodie with the sweater. He takes a picture of himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door so it includes the sweater and the boots, and then he sends it to Kevin.
*
Kevin knows how New Year's Eve at Times Square goes. It's totally awesome that they get to be there, and he's totally excited that they get to do it again. Totally. Except for the part where he knows how it goes and he knows there's no way they're getting out of there until twelve-thirty at the earliest, and with the way traffic is, they don't get back to the hotel until after one.
Kevin calls Mike as soon as he's in his room. He could have called from the car, but he didn't really want his whole family plus the entourage they travel with these days listening in.
"Kevin!" Kevin can tell Mike's been drinking by the way his voice drags over the "v" in his name. "I wish you were here. I had to watch the fireworks by myself."
Kevin's stomach has been tight with something he refuses to name all night, but now it loosens. "All by yourself?" He can hear the party going on around Mike. "It doesn't sound like that."
"There are people here," Mike says, and Kevin can imagine him waving his hand around, "but none of them are you."
Kevin wants to be where Mike is so much it's almost a physical ache.
"None of the people I spent New Year's Eve with were you either," Kevin says. "We were at Times Square. There were a lot of people who weren't you."
"Was it fun?" Mike asks.
"Performing is always fun," Kevin tells him. He takes off his boots and sits down on the bed. "Did you have fun?"
"I'm at this party," Mike says. "Bill made me come." There's the sound of a door opening and closing, and then the background noise cuts off. "Did I tell you I'm quitting smoking? I am. But now. Not earlier. It was really cold outside."
Kevin scoots toward the head of the bed and tucks a couple of the pillows between his back and the headboard. "You're quitting smoking because it was cold outside?"
"No," Mike says, drawing out the "o." "I'm quitting smoking because you're a bad influence and Bill told us we should all make New Year's resolutions."
"You know," Kevin muses, "you're a lot more cheerful than you were on Halloween."
"I was at lot drunker on Halloween. And I was wearing a skirt." Like Kevin doesn't know that. "Fucking Pete."
Kevin laughs. "If you hadn't been wearing the skirt, you might never have met me."
Mike hmms. "Guess that's true. I'm glad I met you. I wish you were here."
Kevin slides down the bed a little and tucks his arm behind his head. "You said that."
"Still true," Mike says. "I'm wearing my boots. Bill's jealous. He saw the sweater. He was jealous of that too, but I wouldn't give it to him because you gave it to me."
Kevin's starting to think that a slightly drunk Mike is the best thing in the world. "Does that mean you appreciate it a little more?"
"Fuck no," Mike says. "It's still the ugliest fucking sweater I've ever seen."
Kevin bursts out laughing. "Yeah," he admits, "it's an ugly sweater. That's half the fun."
"You Jonases have weird ideas about fun. Hey, you know what would be fun?"
"What?" Kevin asks.
"You should come to a show. We're going to be in L.A. in a couple of weeks. I can put you on the list. And your brothers."
Kevin already knows they're going to be in L.A. He's keeping up to date with TAI's concert schedule on their MySpace, and he put their L.A. date on his calendar and told Dad and Nick they couldn't schedule anything for that evening.
"Just me," Kevin says. "Unless I'm not cool enough."
"You're kind of not," Mike says. "But it's probably past Frankie's bedtime anyway."
"Probably. Although he does get to stay up for our shows most of the time. Hey, think you can get me backstage?"
Mike laughs. "Yeah, you're coming backstage. Like I'm gonna let you get mobbed by the crowd. You're coming to see me, not them." Mike practically growls the last bit, and Kevin shivers. Slightly drunk Mike is definitely the best thing in the world.
Kevin also yawns. It's late, and he's been up for way too many hours. "Shoot, Mike, I think I need to go to bed."
"If I were there I'd tuck you in," Mike answers promptly.
Kevin's grin feels like it's going to split his face. "Maybe another time. Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year, Kevin. You're my favorite thing from this year."
Kevin's heart skips a beat. "Yeah," he says. "You're my favorite too."
*
"Sit down," Bill says. "You're making me nervous."
Mike wipes his hands on his jeans. "You never get nervous."
"No, but I am now." Bill kicks out toward him. "Sit down. He'll be here soon."
Mike sits down. Shows go better when Bill's not mad at him.
Two minutes later, Bill's hand presses down on his knee. "I didn't want you to sit down so you could fidget on the couch."
"We should have smoked up earlier," Sisky says.
"I don't think Kevin would like it if I were high the first time he comes to see me play."
Bill actually ruffles his hair. "Your young man has had such a positive influence on you."
Mike swats Bill's hand away. The door opens before he can do anything else about Bill.
"Visitor for you." Tony comes in grinning. He can be a dick just like Mike's band. Mike doesn't bother flipping him off because Kevin's right behind him.
Mike gets up from the couch and wishes there weren't quite so many people here for this. It doesn't stop him from meeting Kevin in the middle of the room with the tightest hug he can give. Kevin hugs him back so hard Mike can feel the way his shirt pulls against him because Kevin's gripping handfuls of it. Mike doesn't want to let go. He does anyway, and he and Kevin are both grinning like loons.
"You're here," Mike says.
"I'm here," Kevin agrees. "And I didn't even bring any of my brothers."
Bill coughs ostentatiously.
Mike turns so he's standing next to Kevin instead of in front of him. "You remember the rest of my band."
"Sure," Kevin says. He gives a little wave. "Hi."
"Kevin," Bill says, "you're all Mike can talk about." Bill's such a dick.
"You wanna go watch the openers?" Mike asks Kevin.
"Smooth," Sisky says. Mike ignores him.
"Sure," Kevin says.
Mike holds the door for him. They walk side by side, close enough that their shoulders brush, down the hall toward the stage. It's still the first opener, so there aren't many people hanging out side stage yet. Mike judges the eyeline of the crowd and finds a space where they can see the band but not the audience - which means the audience can't see them either.
They stand shoulder to shoulder. Kevin nudges Mike with an elbow or shoulder every time the band does something he likes. There's something so casually intimate about it that Mike's heart beats faster.
When the last of the openers gets to the end of their set, Mike turns to Kevin and says, "Stay here. I have to go." He waves his hand down the hallway.
"Pre-show stuff," Kevin says. "I got it." He beams at Mike. "Break a leg."
Mike goes back to his band and they go through all their pre-show rituals. On their way onto the stage, Kevin catches his eye and gives him a thumbs up. Mike grins at him and heads out to play.
Mike plays hard. He always plays hard, but he puts some extra effort into it because he knows there's someone there to see him. Bill spends a fair amount of time on Mike's side of the stage, leaning against him.
Mike's not so stupid he doesn't know what Bill's doing, but sometimes he wishes Bill wouldn't help.
He sucks down a couple of bottles of water during their set, and comes off stage sweating like a pig.
Kevin comes toward him grinning and with his arms out. "You kicked butt out there."
"Thanks." Mike ducks away from his hug. "You don't want to hug me. I'm all sweaty."
Kevin actually rolls his eyes at him. "Like I don't know anything about that."
Mike wants to hug Kevin, but he doesn't want to get Kevin all gross and sweaty. At least not like this. Actually, thinking about that just after he got off stage is probably not a good idea.
"I already called first shower," he tells Kevin. "Give me five minutes and then you can hug me all you want."
Bill slides between them and takes Kevin's arm. "Come on. We'll tell you everything about Mike he won't tell you himself."
The rest of Mike's band are such dicks. He flips them off and rushes through his shower.
*
For some reason - a reason Kevin suspects might actually have something to do with him - Bill has a giant folder of pictures of, as he'd declared grandly, "Mike Through The Ages" on his iPhone. He's not kidding about the "Through The Ages" part. He actually has baby pictures in there.
They're just getting to the early days of the band - and Kevin recognizes one or two of those pictures from the internet - when Mike gets out of the shower. He's buttoning his jeans as he comes out, and he's not wearing a shirt.
Kevin stops paying attention to Bill.
He watches the flex of Mike's muscles as he bends over his bag and pulls on a shirt. He doesn't even blink again until Mike's chest is covered up.
"All right," Mike says, his arms spreading out to either side. "Come hug me now."
Kevin lurches off the couch and manages not to fall all over his feet on his way to Mike. And then he's hugging Mike like he wanted to when he got off stage, whole body pressed against Mike, grinning into his neck, and Mike holding on just as tight. Mike never tries to weasel out of Kevin's hugs, as few of them as there have been. Mike smells really good, clean and freshly washed.
"You were amazing," Kevin says. "Just really, really good." He pulls back just enough so he can see Mike's face. "And the crowd loved it. That was so cool."
"Thanks," Mike says. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Kevin hugs him tight again. "It's all true."
He can't hug Mike forever, no matter how much he wants to, so Kevin lets go and steps back. Mike's hands slide slowly off of his back; Kevin's slide away from Mike just as slowly.
Mike bends over his bag again and brings socks and his boots over to the couch. Kevin sits next to him, closer than he sat to Bill.
"I think I'm stuck here for a while," Mike says as he pulls on his socks. "But maybe after that we can get out of here." He glances up from tightening the laces on his boot. "If you know a good place, I could go for late night pancakes."
Kevin tries to think about Mike's words instead of the way he looks bent over and looking up at Kevin. He's already taken Mike to Betty's, and their burgers are better than their pancakes anyway.
"Du-Par's is close." Kevin pulls out his phone to look them up. "I think they're open all night." He finds the listing, which says they are open twenty-four hours. "They have really good pancakes."
"Okay." Mike finishes tying his other boot and leans back against the couch. His head drops back against it and he turns so his cheek is against the upholstery and he's looking at Kevin.
Kevin finds himself staring at the line of Mike's neck.
Mike's foot nudges against his, and Kevin jerks his gaze up, so he's looking at Mike's face instead. It's no less interesting than his neck.
"Dude," Mike says, "it's so awesome that you're here."
"I had to come see you play sometime." Kevin reaches out and pokes Mike's shoulder. "You're going to have to come to one of our concerts."
Mike, to his credit, doesn't look as horrified as he could, although he still looks like this was an unexpected angle. "I suppose that's fair."
"Completely fair." Kevin leans his cheek against the back of the couch, mirroring Mike. They're really close. "You can see how good I am on the guitar. And Nick says he's going to let me play piano on a song on the next tour."
"Piano," Mike says. "Isn't that usually Nick's thing?"
Kevin grins at him because Mike either remembered Kevin telling him that or looked them up. "It is! He's doing more singing, though, so I get a chance to play."
"That's cool."
"I like it." Kevin smiles goofily at Mike, which doesn't matter because Mike is smiling back at him just as goofily.
"Michael," Bill says, and there are two of them there, so Kevin doesn't know how Mike knows that Bill's talking to him.
"Yeah, I know." Mike hauls himself up off the couch. "We're still doing that everyone comes out to sign stuff at every show thing," he explains to Kevin. "You can hang out here or we can get someone to take you to the bus to hang out."
"Maybe if we put a hat on him," Sisky says. "That hair's pretty recognizable."
Kevin's not sure Sisky has any room to talk on that count, but he is right.
"I can hang out here," Kevin says. He's spent a lot of time in both dressing rooms and buses, and given a choice, he'll take the slightly larger space of a dressing room.
"It shouldn't be more than an hour or so," Mike says. He squeezes Kevin's shoulder before he leaves.
*
It takes an hour and a half. Mike spends the whole time trying not to let his antsiness get the better of him. He loves signing stuff for kids who come to their shows, but today he just wants to get back to Kevin. He's pretty sure he doesn't give it away to anyone but his band, who already know he'd rather be doing something else.
When the last kids finally take off, Mike heads back to the dressing room. Kevin's still on the couch, frowning intently at his phone. He looks up when Mike comes into the room, and his frown is immediately replaced by a smile.
"Hey," Mike says. He picks up his bag. "I have to drop this on the bus, and then we can go."
"Okay." Kevin stands up and puts his phone in his pocket. "Lead the way."
"Something important on your phone?"
Kevin looks a little sheepish. "Not really. Just playing hangman with Joe. You got me out of what was going to be an embarrassing loss."
Mike snorts. "Glad to be of service." At the bus, Kevin waits outside while Mike goes in to toss his bag into his bunk and make sure he has his wallet and phone with him.
They walk halfway across the parking lot to Kevin's car, and Mike's glad he pulled on a flannel over his t-shirt; even in L.A., January evenings are a little cool.
"Still want pancakes?" Kevin asks.
"Hell yes." Mike leans back against the window so he can watch Kevin drive. "We used to get midnight pancakes a lot when we were younger, but it's been a while." It's been a really long time, he realizes with a jolt. Later in the tour, he's going to make his band go out for pancakes after a show. "We used to hang out at IHOP in high school."
Kevin glances over at him. "Nick would never let us do that." He looks back at the road but there's still something inquisitive about the tilt of his head. "How is that every time we get together we go eat things Nick would get mad at me for?"
Mike grins at him. "It's my degenerate rock star lifestyle. I'm a bad influence."
Kevin laughs. Mike could listen to him do that forever.
"I promise not to corrupt you so much you can't look your brothers in the eye."
Kevin keeps laughing. "So no hookers and blow then?"
"Not even a totally legal beer," Mike promises. "Just high fat, high calorie foods."
Kevin's still snickering when he pulls into a parking lot. "You're the worst bad influence rock star."
Mike waits for Kevin to come around to his side of the car, and their arms brush against each other all the way into the restaurant.
"Two," Kevin tells the waitress who asks them how many, and she leads them to a small booth with overstuffed vinyl padding. It's small enough that they have to arrange themselves carefully to keep from kicking each other, and Mike's legs end up alongside Kevin's, close enough that they touch every time one of them moves.
Mike opens up the menu to the pancake section and stares at it in disbelief. This time, when he nudges Kevin's knee with his own, it's on purpose.
"These better be really good pancakes," he says, "if they don't even come with strawberries and whipped cream."
"They're so good they don't need any embellishment," Kevin says.
Mike's not sure if he should believe that, but the milkshake at Betty's was as good as promised, so maybe the pancakes will be too. He was looking forward to strawberries and whipped cream though.
"How much of a bad influence will I be if I order a milkshake to go with my pancakes?"
"Terrible," Kevin says with a grin. "Even worse if you share."
*
Kevin just has pancakes, but Mike orders bacon to go with his pancakes, and he asks the waitress for a second straw for the milkshake.
"You're such a bad influence," Kevin says when Mike gives him a piece of his bacon too.
Mike grins at him. "I saw cherry pie on the way in."
Kevin grins back. "You want pie now too?"
Mike's knee nudges his again. Kevin's heart skips a beat every time he does that. "We're sharing."
When the waitress comes back, Mike orders a slice of pie with ice cream and two forks. The sugar in the pie and the ice cream perfectly balance out the tartness of the cherries, and the crust is as flaky as Kevin could wish for.
"This was a good idea," he says.
"The pancakes or pie?" Mike asks through a mouthful of the latter.
"Everything." Kevin means it. He means everything from being born to Joe making him be a T-Bird to Mike suggesting they get late night pancakes.
Mike licks cherry filling off of his lips, and Kevin's eyes get kind of stuck there the same way they do every time Mike does that.
"When are we in the same place again?" Mike asks while he waits for Kevin to get a forkful of pie.
The reminder that they don't get to do this regularly takes some of the sweetness out of the pie.
"We go back on tour next month, but we hit Chicago before you're done and none of our dates overlap."
Mike stares at him over the pie, which makes Kevin realize maybe it's a little weird that he knows that.
"I looked it up," he admits.
Mike cuts his fork down through the ice cream and into the pie. "We don't have much going on after our tour. Maybe I can come visit you."
Kevin beams at him. "That would be awesome. And you still have to see me play."
"Send me your schedule," Mike says. "If you have a day off somewhere cool, maybe we can do something fun too."
"I've heard watching the Jonas Brothers side stage is something fun," Kevin says.
Mike makes an annoyed face at him that dissolves into something friendlier pretty quickly. "Something else fun. Something we can do together."
"I'd like that." Kevin feels just as uncool as he's always suspected he is, but Mike doesn't seem to mind. He actually looks pleased.
"Cool." Mike nudges the pie toward Kevin. "You want the last bite?"
Kevin waves it back toward Mike. "You can have it." Kevin actually is totally full, but he also likes watching Mike enjoy the pie.
After Mike finishes the pie, he pulls out his phone and makes a face at it. "I can't stay much longer. We have a crazy early bus call tonight."
Kevin feels a sharp tug of disappointment. "Okay." He thinks he's being very calm about it, but Mike looks unhappy too.
"This is what sucks about being on tour."
"Yeah," Kevin agrees. Then he shakes it off; no use in spending the small amount of time they do have together being miserable. "But at least you get to live on a bus with your best friends."
Mike snorts. "Yeah, that's such a privilege. I don't know how you do it. I can't imagine if they were my family too."
Kevin shrugs; he hears that a lot. "We're pretty used to it, and I don't ever have to share a room with Joe when we're on the bus, so." Kevin shrugs again. "It's not so bad."
"I guess you don't get homesick." Mike leans back in the booth and stretches in a way that shows off how well his shirt fits him. "I remember our first tour. Bill and I were already living on our own, but Adam was so homesick." Mike shakes his head. "He'll probably deny it if anyone asks, but he was."
"I miss this on the road," Kevin says. "Hanging out with friends who aren't my family and eating places I know are good."
The waitress comes by to see if they need anything else. Kevin asks her for the check and insists on paying. "My hometown, my turn," he reminds Mike.
"I guess that means we'll have to split the check next time," Mike says.
Kevin ignores the thrill that goes through him at that and says, "I guess so."
They get up to leave and Kevin has to exercise a lot of self-restraint to keep from touching Mike while they walk to the car. He does really well until he parks next to Mike's bus and it's time to say goodbye. Then he can't help clinging to Mike when they hug.
"Hey," Mike says, and he pulls away just a little, and then his lips are against Kevin's and it takes Kevin a moment to realize that Mike's kissing him. As soon as he does, he makes this totally embarrassing whimper in the back of his throat and clutches at Mike's shirt.
*
It feels unbelievably good to kiss Kevin after three months of foreplay. If he had the time, Mike would push Kevin back against the car, slide his leg between Kevin's, and keep him there until they both got off or they could relocate to somewhere more private. He doesn't have the time, though. He looked at the clock before they got out of the car, and he only has a couple of minutes.
It makes him pull away well before he's ready. If he doesn't, his band is going to come out to fetch him, and he wants that even less than he wants to stop kissing Kevin.
Somehow one of his hands has ended up tangled in Kevin's hair. Mike carefully pulls it free and pats Kevin's hair back into place. It's mostly a reflex; Kevin's hair looks like it just does whatever it's going to do regardless of what Mike does to it.
If he had more time- Mike cuts off that train of thought. He doesn't have more time.
"I have to go." Mike cups the back of Kevin's head and presses his lips to Kevin's one more time. "I'll call you."
"Yeah." Kevin's looking a little dazed. Mike hopes he hasn't fucked everything up. He's good at doing that.
Mike has to exert all his willpower to keep from looking back as he punches in the code and gets on the bus. He does look out the tinted window, though, and watch Kevin touch his fingers to his mouth and then get into the car.
"Mike and Kevin, sittin' in a tree."
Mike flips Sisky off without looking. It doesn't stop him.
"K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
Mike loses sight of Kevin's car as it turns out of the parking lot. Mike's grown a lot, as a person, in the last couple of years; he walks past the rest of his band - seriously, dicks, all of them - without hitting anyone, even though Sisky continues the rhyme and the rest of them smirk at him.
He rolls into his bunk and lies on his back, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't bother turning on the light, but there's just enough filtering in around the edges of the curtain that he can see the ceiling. Not that the ceiling's interesting or anything; it just gives him something to look at that isn't the back of his eyelids.
He kissed Kevin. He kissed Kevin while his whole band was probably watching them through the bus windows.
If he's honest with himself, which he finds he's trying to be more often since Bill called him out about not liking the women he's slept with, that kiss was a long time coming. It was also, he thinks, grinning without trying to hide it, one of the best kisses of his life. Bill might think he liked some of the men he's slept with, but he hasn't ever liked anyone like this.
He just hopes he didn't mess everything up by doing it. They never talked about it. Mike's been pretty sure about Kevin's interest in him too, but Kevin hasn't said anything about liking guys. Of course, he hasn't said anything about liking girls either, so Mike can still hope.
The bus starts to move, and Mike resists the urge to call Kevin right now.
He can't believe he actually kissed Kevin. He can't wait to do it again.
*
"Kevin! Time to get up!"
Kevin scrunches his eyes tighter. Sometimes sharing a room with Frankie is not all it's cut out to be.
"Shh," Mom says. "He was up late last night. Let him sleep."
The door closes again, and it's quiet, which means Mom took Frankie out with her. Of course, he's awake now, and he's not going to be able to fall asleep again, no matter how late he was up last night.
Kevin grins into his pillow. Last night. Last night was definitely a date. He's dating Mike Carden. This is the best thing that's ever happened to him.
He grabs his phone off the nightstand and scrolls down to Mike's name. Good morning. :) he types in. He has to think about what else to say. "Kiss me again" might be a little forward, plus it's not something Mike can do from the road, as much as it is what Kevin wants. He grins again. Mike kissed him! It's no less amazing no matter how many times he thinks it.
He types, Miss you already, and sends it before he can talk himself out of it. They've been talking for three months, and Mike kissed him. It can't be too forward to say he misses Mike.
He hops in the shower and gets dressed, then sticks his phone in his pocket before he goes downstairs to see if there's still breakfast.
He's in luck; the rest of the family is still at the table, and there are enough pancakes left that he won't have to make himself something to eat.
Mom kisses his cheek and hands him a plate. "I was going to let you sleep in."
"I wasn't going to fall asleep again." Kevin takes a couple of pancakes and drizzles just a taste of syrup onto them under Nick's watchful eye.
"Someone had a good night," Joe says. When Kevin looks up, Joe's smirking at him. "How's Mike?"
Kevin knows he's not keeping enough off of his face, but he says, "Good," and tries to look meaningfully in Frankie's direction. Maybe the reminder will keep Joe from pursuing it much further.
As usual, nothing that subtle works on Joe.
"I didn't even hear you come in."
"I didn't get back until late." Kevin shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth so he can't say anything else.
"I never get to stay out late when it's not for one of your concerts," Frankie says, saving Kevin from whatever Joe was inclined to say about it.
"When you're Kevin's age," Mom says, "then you can stay out late. Joe, let your brother eat."
Joe's look promises that this isn't the end of the conversation, but Nick distracts him by saying, "Let's go work on that bridge."
Frankie tucks his feet up under him on his chair. "What did you do last night?"
"I watched Mike's band play, and then we went to get something to eat." Kevin relaxes a little; Frankie's not as much trouble as Joe.
"Joe kept saying it was a date. Was it a date?"
Or maybe not.
"Frankie," Mom says, "If you're done eating, you can put your plate up and play the Wii for half an hour."
Frankie's old enough to know when he's being gotten rid of, but not so old that he'd rather stay and make a nuisance of himself than go play video games. He puts his plate in the sink and leaves Kevin alone with Mom and Dad.
Kevin puts his fork down. He's not hungry anymore.
"Kevin," Dad says, "was it a date?"
Kevin's heart pounds even though Dad doesn't sound mad, just curious.
"Yes."
Mom and Dad look at each other.
"We're worried," Mom says, "because Mike's older than you, and he doesn't seem to live the same kind of life we do."
"We don't want you to be pressured into doing anything you wouldn't do otherwise," Dad adds.
"He's only three years older." Kevin tries to keep his voice even. He wants to yell, or cry, but he knows that his best argument here is to be an adult about it. "He hasn't tried to pressure me into anything."
"We know we've raised you right," Dad says, "and we hope you will always make the right choices and walk with Jesus. We also know that at your age having new friends might tempt you toward a different path."
Kevin thinks for a moment about how to say that it's not like that at all in a way that Mom and Dad will listen to him. "I know that God has a path for me," he says. "I'm walking that path with Jesus as best I can. Going on a date with Mike hasn't changed that."
"I'm sure it hasn't now," Mom says. "But remember to keep Jesus in your heart." She gets up and comes around to kiss the top of his head. "I know you'll make the right choices."
Dad nods. "We trust you, Kevin. Don't give us a reason not to."
*
Mike wakes up to the familiar movement of the bus. He goes to the bathroom and brushes his teeth - late night pancakes and cherry pie do not make for pleasant morning breath - before he picks up his phone. There are a couple of dickish messages from his band that he deletes. He leaves the message from Kevin for last:
Good morning. :) Miss you already.
Mike's totally helpless against the grin it brings to his face. miss you too, he texts back.
If anyone made coffee, it's all gone now, so Mike starts a new pot and sits down at the table to wait for it.
The pot's almost done when Kevin calls. Mike grins into the phone as he answers it with a cheerful, "Hey. You were up early this morning."
"Mom was going to let me sleep, but Frankie was being too loud and woke me up." There's something off about Kevin's voice that Mike can't quite place. "You slept in late."
"I did." The coffee pot clicks off, so Mike tucks his phone between shoulder and ear and pours himself a cup. "If they aren't staying up, the rest of my band sleeps late. Unlike yours."
Kevin's chuckle doesn't sound quite right either. "We do get up pretty early in the morning. It's the secret to our success."
Maybe Kevin is just tired. But, oh fuck, dating - holy fuck, dating - someone he likes means that Mike has to ask and that he actually cares about the answer.
"Are you freaked out about last night?"
There's a heartbeat too long of silence, and then Kevin says, "I'm not," with a weird emphasis. He's silent for another heartbeat, and Mike doesn't know what to say, and then Kevin says, "Mom and Dad kind of are."
Mike has never been good with parents.
"Oh."
"Yeah," Kevin sighs. "I think they'll get over it."
Mike doesn't know what that means. "Does that mean we can't hang out?"
"No way," Kevin says forcefully. "You said you'd come see me play."
Fuck, Mike hates having to take someone else's feelings into account, especially when he's not getting laid out of the deal. "It's not going to cause problems with your parents?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. But, hey, you think Frankie's cool," Kevin says almost too brightly. "If it'll make them feel better, we can bring him along to chaperone."
"If you do that, I'm going to make him look the other way when I kiss you. I wouldn't want your parents to think I'm a bad influence on both of you."
"No," Kevin says, "that's cool. I don't want him watching us kiss either."
Mike's stomach relaxes. He will get to kiss Kevin again. He didn't fuck everything up.
There's a muffled voice calling Kevin's name, and Kevin calls out to them, "Just a minute." To Mike he says, "I have to go. Nick's being a taskmaster again."
Mike doesn't want to let Kevin go, but at least he'll be able to talk to Kevin again. "I guess I'll talk to you later."
"You will," Kevin promises. "And I'll send you the list of our tour dates and days off and stuff. If there's anywhere you want to visit, we can do that."
"Okay," Mike agrees. He doesn't want to say goodbye. Apparently Kevin doesn't either, because they just listen to each other breathe for a few long seconds.
When Kevin finally speaks, he says, "I have to go," soft and apologetic.
"Yeah, I know. I have coffee to drink anyway."
Kevin laughs. "I'll talk to you later." He hangs up, and Mike clicks his own phone off before reaching for his cooling coffee.
Chiz slides into the booth across from him with his own cup of coffee. Mike didn't even notice him coming out of the bunks.
"I heard some of that. Problems with the parents?"
Mike shrugs. "Yeah. I guess. Kevin thinks they'll get over it."
Chiz hmms and sips at his coffee. "You could talk to Bill about it. He's been where you are."
Mike really doesn't want to talk to Bill about this. He's okay talking to Chiz a little because Chiz is his best friend, but he doesn't really want to talk about it with anyone. He doesn't want there to be anything to talk about.
"They're only mostly over it because of Genevieve." Mike tightens his hands around his coffee mug. "Kevin and I are barely even dating right now, not giving them grandchildren." And, shit, there he goes, putting it out there out loud.
Chiz hmms again. "Maybe." Then he looks at Mike with that look that reminds Mike, when he's forgotten, that Chiz is a lot sharper than his usual easy-going nature would suggest. "You do know that we don't care that you're dating a guy."
Mike shrugs uncomfortably. "Yeah, sure."
"You don't talk about him very much, is all," Chiz says. He sips at his coffee while Mike stares down into his. "We're going to give you shit because he's a Jonas brother, but not because he's your boyfriend."
Maybe his coffee will surge up out of his cup and swallow Mike up and take him away from this conversation. When that doesn't happen, he mutters, "He's not my boyfriend."
Chiz actually laughs at him then. "You didn't even look at that girl two nights ago who was all over you."
Mike has to think to remember who Chiz is talking about. He vaguely remembers a woman at a bar they'd gone to after the show. She was flirting with him, but Adam and Butcher were having an argument over the best kind of fruit snacks, and Mike was trying to pay attention so he could tell Kevin about it later.
"Or that guy in Austin."
Mike remembers the guy. He was solid, and wearing a shirt to show it off, and he was the kind of guy Mike goes for sometimes. He gave Mike a not particularly subtle once-over, and Mike didn't even think about going for it. He just smiled, shrugged, and casually turned back to look at the pictures of Genevieve that Bill couldn't resist sharing the moment Christine emailed them. The guy in Austin is probably a more persuasive argument about Kevin being his boyfriend.
*
In-flight wi-fi is pretty much Kevin's favorite thing right now. It means he can read Mike's email from thirty thousand feet and there isn't anything else he's supposed to be doing, so he can also pop his earphones in and theoretically be undisturbed. "Theoretically" being the key word. In reality, he's just clicked in Gmail's reply box when Joe flops down in the previously unoccupied seat next to him. Joe pulls out the earbud closest to him and sticks it in his own ear.
Joe makes a face. "You're totally not the cool one."
Kevin thinks George Strait is totally cool, but he knows from experience that it's not worth arguing. He takes his earbud back. "Did you come up here just to harass me?"
"Pretty much." Joe leans over and peers at Kevin's screen. "What are you doing?"
Kevin closes his laptop before Joe can read Mike's email. "Email. And, no, you can't read it."
Joe pouts, but not for very long. "You had to listen to country for that?"
"I'm also making a mix." Telling Joe that was maybe a mistake, because he lights up with glee.
"What for?" Before Kevin can even answer, Joe rushes on with, "You should put something cooler than George Strait on there."
"It's for Mike," Kevin says. "George Strait has to be on there because it's a mix of things I like that he might too."
Joe stares at him. "And you're putting 'I Just Want To Dance With You' on it?" He lowers his voice. "Do Mom and Dad know you have a boyfriend?"
"He's not-" Kevin realizes he's way too loud if he doesn't want this conversation to be overheard. "He's not my boyfriend," he says quietly. "And I don't know if it's going on there."
Joe pokes his head up over the top of their seats and looks around, then settles back down and leans in toward Kevin. "But you're dating him, right?"
Kevin briefly wonders why he thought talking to Joe about Mike would be a good idea at all. "Yeah."
"And Mom and Dad?"
Kevin shrugs tightly. "Know."
Joe bumps his shoulder against Kevin's. "Nick and I totally have your back."
Kevin smiles for real. "Does Nick know that?"
"Dude," Joe says, "I can totally speak for Nick."
Nick appears at the end of the row like he's Beetlejuice and saying his name three times summoned him. "You can not."
Joe pushes the armrest up and slides half into Kevin's seat so Nick can sit down with them. "I can too. We totally have Kevin's back about Mike."
"Of course we do." Nick looks from Joe to Kevin. "Do we need to?"
"Mom and Dad think he's a bad influence." The words seem to stick in Kevin's throat and leave an unpleasant aftertaste.
"If they think that, they seriously don't know you," Nick says. Joe nods in vigorous agreement.
Kevin totally loves his brothers. "Thanks."
Joe wraps his arms around Kevin and squeezes him almost too tight. "I told you, we totally have your back." He keeps one arm around Kevin's shoulders and turns back so he can see Nick. "Kevin's making a mix for Mike. You have to help me convince him to put something cooler than George Strait on there."
*
Mike opens his email and skips straight to the one from Kevin. "Made this for you," it says. "Joe and Nick tried to help but I wouldn't let them." There are another three paragraphs of Kevin's brothers' antics, and then his signature, and then, "P.S. Miss you. Can't wait to see you in Cleveland."
Mike grins and downloads the attachment. It's a zip file of music, with a document telling him the track list. He unzips it and pulls it into iTunes so he can sync it with his iPod.
He starts listening while he writes back, exchanging stories about Sisky and Bill for Kevin's Joe and Nick ones and giving Kevin his flight information.
Most of it is not the kind of music he would choose to listen to for himself, but he's willing to give it a chance if Kevin thinks he might like it. He gives up on his email after replying to Kevin and instead stretches out, taking up the whole couch in the back lounge, and closes his eyes while he listens.
He gets maybe halfway through the playlist before someone sits down on his stomach.
Mike's eyes fly open, and he pushes at Bill. "Get off of me."
Bill falls laughing to the floor.
Mike pulls one of his earbuds out. "You're fucking heavy."
Bill shrugs. "You looked like you needed to be bothered. What are you listening to?" He takes the earbud from Mike's hand without asking and puts it in his own ear. He makes a face a few seconds later. "Is this country? Why are you listening to this?"
Mike reaches over and takes his earbud back. "Kevin sent me a mix."
Bill stares at him. "That's adorable," he finally says, "in a totally high school kind of way."
Mike pushes at his shoulder. "Shut up. Like you don't send music home to Christine and Genevieve all the time."
Bill pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his cheek against them. "So what's he telling you with music?"
Mike hits pause and pulls out his other earbud so he's not trying to split his attention. "I haven't listened to it all the way through yet."
Bill keeps just looking at him, for long enough that it starts to make Mike uncomfortable.
"I'm proud of you," Bill finally says, serious and affectionate. "I think dating someone you actually like is good for you."
Mike picks at a spot where his jeans are starting to wear through. "His parents are kind of freaked out."
"I'd be more surprised if they weren't."
Mike keeps poking at his jeans so he doesn't have to look at Bill. "Chiz said I should talk to you." He makes a face. "I don't really remember what it was like with you and Christine."
"Her parents hated me," Bill says bluntly. "They didn't want her dating me, and she did anyway."
Mike watches out of the corner of his eye as Bill scoots closer and leans his head on the couch next to Mike's knee.
"It's going to be tougher on him than on you, and sometimes you'll want to just let go because it'll be easier and you don't want to hurt him." Bill pokes at his knee. "If you love him, it's worth it if you can tough it out."
It's too early for Mike to know if he loves Kevin, but not too early to know he doesn't want to do anything to hurt him.
Part 3
This is the best pizza Kevin has ever had. Ever. The toppings are actually baked in between layers of crust, and every time he takes a bite, his mouth fills with cheese.
"You can never tell Nick," he groans. "Never. This is so much worse than diner food."
Mike chuckles. "I promise." He licks sauce off of his lip, which is unfairly distracting. Kevin could watch him do that all day.
He's so distracted by Mike that he doesn't register the purposeful movement toward them until there are two girls who can't be more than fifteen almost to their table.
Kevin knows exactly how to deal with this. He sits up straighter, and swipes his napkin over his mouth to catch any sauce or grease.
The girls walk straight up to Mike.
"Mike?" one of them says, the other one half hiding behind her. "We're sorry to bother you, but would you sign something for us?"
Mike smiles at them. "Yeah, sure." He pulls a Sharpie out of his pocket, and one of the girls has a small notebook in her purse. "So what's your name?" he asks.
He's good at it, interacting with the kids. Kevin probably shouldn't be surprised. Mike's been doing this even longer than Kevin has, if not on the same scale, and Kevin's read enough about The Academy Is... to know their fans are the same teenagers as Kevin's fans, but it's still not what he expected. Of course, what he expected was for the girls to talk to him, so maybe what he expects isn't a particularly good measure of what's going to happen.
One of the girls asks if they can get a picture, too.
"Sure." Mike slides out of the booth, and has the girl hand her iPhone over to Kevin so both girls can be in the picture together. Kevin stands up too, to get the right angle for the picture. He takes two of them, and hands the phone back.
"Thanks," the girl says to Kevin, and then both girls effusively thank Mike.
Kevin is fairly used to fans being more excited about the people he's with than him, but usually the people he's with are his brothers.
Mike nudges his foot against Kevin's. "You didn't expect that."
Kevin's pretty sure Mike's laughing at him again. "No," he admits. "But I guess it makes sense. It's your hometown."
Mike smirks at him. "And unlike zebras, you're less noticeable when separated from the herd."
Kevin's heart flutters a little bit at Mike referencing zebras.
"I guess so." He smiles. "It's kind of nice." He leans toward Mike. "I wasn't sure I'd get to come alone. Big Rob's pretty strict about security these days."
"I guess that's the good thing about not being that famous," Mike says. "Even when we do have security, they're usually just keeping Bill safe." He shrugs. "He's the favorite."
"You're my favorite," Kevin says without thinking about it. He flushes.
Mike ducks his head. "Well, I guess you're my favorite Jonas Brother."
They sort of smile at each other for a minute.
"Okay," Mike says, "best, worst, and weirdest fan encounters."
They trade fan stories, tour stories, and Thanksgiving stories. Their waitress keeps refilling their water glasses, and doesn't seem bothered by their lingering. Even so, they order dessert when the place starts to fill up with the dinner crowd.
Watching Mike eat dessert is quickly becoming one of Kevin's favorite things to do. This time he ordered cannoli, and he keeps licking the filling off his lips.
When it gets late enough that they have to leave, Kevin tries to pick up the check, but Mike won't let him.
"My hometown," he says, "my treat."
Kevin gives in gracefully and is pleased, when he peeks at the charge slip, that Mike leaves a generous tip.
Kevin texts Big Rob when they leave and again as they pull into the bustle of O'Hare. Mike stops the car as close to where Big Rob is waiting in front of the terminal as he can, then gets out of the car with Kevin.
Mike's good at hugs. He doesn't pull away too soon like some people do, and it feels really good to hug him.
"Thanks," Kevin says, "for lunch and hanging out with me and everything."
"Anytime you're in town." Mike grins. "I know lots of places Nick wouldn't approve of."
Kevin grins back. "Awesome. Until next time then."
"Until next time," Mike agrees. He touches Kevin's arm. "I'll call you."
"I'll answer." It's kind of a dumb thing to say, but Mike laughs, and that's a good sound to hold onto as he heads toward Big Rob and back into the airport.
*
Mike called to ask Kevin, "Are you serious?" when he first opened the box that came in the mail and found two wrapped boxes with cheery "Do not open until Christmas!" stickers on them. Kevin had assured him he was completely serious, and the boxes have been sitting in the corner of Mike's living room ever since.
Christmas morning is only more torturous, because Mike knows Kevin's in L.A., which means he's two hours earlier, and since Mike's up around ten, it's probably too early to call. Even if he is pretty sure the Jonases are an early rising family.
Mike's family is not. He doesn't have to be at his parents' until three.
Mike's phone rings just after one. He picks it up with a grin to Kevin's "Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas," Mike says.
"I would've called earlier," Kevin says, sounding apologetic, "but we did stockings and breakfast, and then church, and things are pretty crazy around here. Joe and Frankie are begging to open presents even though they know we don't do that until after lunch."
"Wow," Mike says, "and all I've done this morning is have a cup of coffee and watch It's A Wonderful Life."
"Oh, man, I haven't seen that in years."
Mike chuckles. "It hasn't changed."
"Angels still get their wings when a bell rings?"
Mike can pretty much see the teasing smile on Kevin's face.
"Yep, but I don't have any bells," Mike teases back.
"We have some on the tree," Kevin tells him, "but if I go out there, this conversation will be over pretty much immediately."
Mike really wants to ask if he can open his presents now, but it seems rude. "Don't go out there," he says instead. "Where are you that's safe?"
"My room. Frankie might come up here, but I can always send him back down to Mom. But," Kevin says, "I brought my present from you up here so you can listen to me unwrap it."
"I can't believe you actually made me wait." Mike gets the boxes and sits down on the couch with them. "You know they've been driving me crazy."
"Waiting just makes opening presents even better."
Kevin says it completely without irony, and Mike considers it for a couple of seconds before he says, "That's what they tell you about sex, too, isn't it?"
Kevin's silent for a long moment. Mike holds his breath.
"That is what they tell us. I guess I'll find out."
Mike exhales. At least it wasn't a complete mistake. Fuck, he's gotten attached to Kevin in the last two months.
"Go on," Kevin says, "since you're so impatient, you can open your presents first. Start with the one in red paper."
Mike cradles his phone between his ear and his shoulder and rips the paper as loudly as he can. There's a nondescript white box under the paper. Mike opens the box and peels back the tissue paper to reveal the ugliest sweater he's ever seen. And that includes anything Bill has ever owned.
"What the fuck?"
Kevin manages to say, "Christmas sweaters are an important tradition," before he starts laughing. It's a nice sound.
Mike glares at the sweater. "Do you actually expect me to wear this?"
Kevin's still laughing as he says, "Don't you want to show your family what your friends got you for Christmas?"
"I don't want them to think my friends all have terrible taste. Bill is bad enough." Mike covers the sweater up with its tissue paper, and then puts the top of the box back on for good measure. "Can I open the other one now?"
Kevin chuckles. "Yes. You'll like it better."
"I hope so," Mike mutters. "You didn't get me a matching scarf and mittens, did you?" He puts the sweater box on the floor and tugs the other, heavier package onto his lap.
"No. Maybe for New Year's," Kevin muses.
"Please don't." Mike tears the paper on the second package. It's also a box, with a logo on it. Mike doesn't quite believe it until he opens the box. "Holy shit." They're boots. Amazing boots. Black, lace-up, and his size.
"Do they fit?" Kevin sounds almost as excited about them as Mike feels.
"Dude," Mike says, "let me put them on." He pulls them out of the box and starts lacing them up. "Why do shoes never come laced?"
"I don't know. Because it costs them less to make us do it?"
"That must be it." Mike pulls the boots on, tightens and ties the laces, and stands up. "Man, these are awesome." He walks across the living room, into the kitchen, and back to the couch. "They fit perfectly. Thank you so much."
"You're welcome." Kevin sounds pleased. "I want you to know that I managed to pick them out all by myself. I didn't even need Joe or Nick's help to find you something suitably badass."
"I'm very proud." Mike leans his elbows on his knees so he can keep looking at his boots while he talks. "Your turn."
"This is so beautifully wrapped," Kevin says, "it almost seems a shame to ruin it."
Mike rolls his eyes even though Kevin can't see him. "Just open it. That's what you're supposed to do with Christmas presents."
"Okay, okay. I'm opening it already!"
Mike can't even hear the rustle of the paper. "Are you one of those people who peels the tape back?"
"It's so pretty!"
Mike sighs. "You're supposed to tear the paper. It's the best part about opening presents."
"Even Frankie doesn't do that," Kevin says. Mike can hear the paper tearing now. "Your Christmas must be totally different."
Mike grins. "I'll bet. Chaos and booze instead of church and wholesomeness."
"Oh!" Kevin practically squeals. "It's so adorable!"
Mike knows what he's looking at: the cutest stuffed zebra online shopping could provide, with a cheerful red ribbon tied around its neck. He smiles at the phone. "I thought since you couldn't be one for Halloween."
"Now I can have one," Kevin finishes. "I'm taking this on tour with me."
Mike can't hear the rustle of tissue paper as Kevin takes the other part of his gift out of the box, but he can imagine it.
"Mike," he says softly, "thank you. This is perfect."
The other part of his present is a carefully framed certificate declaring him a friend of the zebra and memorializing a donation given in his name for zebra conservation.
"I thought it was your kind of thing."
"It totally, totally is," Kevin says. "Nothing anyone else got me is going to measure up to this. And Joe's been dropping hints about how he got us all the best presents ever this year."
"I'd be a pretty sorry excuse for a man if I couldn't outshop Joe."
Kevin sighs with completely fake resignation. "And he's the cool one."
"Yeah, right," Mike snorts. "Bonus is the cool one. The three of you are just playing catch-up."
"Ouch," Kevin says, cheerfully enough that Mike knows he doesn't mean it. "Maybe you want to talk to him then."
"Nah," Mike says. "I knew you weren't cool from the beginning."
"Ooh, ouch again," Kevin says. "I don't know why I talk to you. You're bad for my ego."
"You talk to me because having friends like me is the only thing keeping you at all cool."
"Millions of teenage girls would disagree with you."
"Kevin," another voice Mike recognizes as Frankie's says in the background before Mike can respond, "Mom says it's time to come down for lunch."
"I'll be there in a minute," Kevin says to Frankie, and then to Mike, "I have to go."
"Yeah," Mike says. "Tell your family I said Merry Christmas."
"I will. And same to yours, and your band. And you. And thank you."
Mike laughs a little at Kevin's attempt to include everyone. "Merry Christmas, Kevin."
"Merry Christmas, Mike."
Three minutes after Mike hangs up, his phone buzzes with a message. It's a picture of Kevin smiling with the stuffed zebra cuddled under his chin. Mike not only saves it, he makes it his phone's background, replacing a picture of Kevin smiling with a ridiculous paper crown on his head.
Then he opens the sweater box again and replaces his hoodie with the sweater. He takes a picture of himself in the full-length mirror on the back of his closet door so it includes the sweater and the boots, and then he sends it to Kevin.
*
Kevin knows how New Year's Eve at Times Square goes. It's totally awesome that they get to be there, and he's totally excited that they get to do it again. Totally. Except for the part where he knows how it goes and he knows there's no way they're getting out of there until twelve-thirty at the earliest, and with the way traffic is, they don't get back to the hotel until after one.
Kevin calls Mike as soon as he's in his room. He could have called from the car, but he didn't really want his whole family plus the entourage they travel with these days listening in.
"Kevin!" Kevin can tell Mike's been drinking by the way his voice drags over the "v" in his name. "I wish you were here. I had to watch the fireworks by myself."
Kevin's stomach has been tight with something he refuses to name all night, but now it loosens. "All by yourself?" He can hear the party going on around Mike. "It doesn't sound like that."
"There are people here," Mike says, and Kevin can imagine him waving his hand around, "but none of them are you."
Kevin wants to be where Mike is so much it's almost a physical ache.
"None of the people I spent New Year's Eve with were you either," Kevin says. "We were at Times Square. There were a lot of people who weren't you."
"Was it fun?" Mike asks.
"Performing is always fun," Kevin tells him. He takes off his boots and sits down on the bed. "Did you have fun?"
"I'm at this party," Mike says. "Bill made me come." There's the sound of a door opening and closing, and then the background noise cuts off. "Did I tell you I'm quitting smoking? I am. But now. Not earlier. It was really cold outside."
Kevin scoots toward the head of the bed and tucks a couple of the pillows between his back and the headboard. "You're quitting smoking because it was cold outside?"
"No," Mike says, drawing out the "o." "I'm quitting smoking because you're a bad influence and Bill told us we should all make New Year's resolutions."
"You know," Kevin muses, "you're a lot more cheerful than you were on Halloween."
"I was at lot drunker on Halloween. And I was wearing a skirt." Like Kevin doesn't know that. "Fucking Pete."
Kevin laughs. "If you hadn't been wearing the skirt, you might never have met me."
Mike hmms. "Guess that's true. I'm glad I met you. I wish you were here."
Kevin slides down the bed a little and tucks his arm behind his head. "You said that."
"Still true," Mike says. "I'm wearing my boots. Bill's jealous. He saw the sweater. He was jealous of that too, but I wouldn't give it to him because you gave it to me."
Kevin's starting to think that a slightly drunk Mike is the best thing in the world. "Does that mean you appreciate it a little more?"
"Fuck no," Mike says. "It's still the ugliest fucking sweater I've ever seen."
Kevin bursts out laughing. "Yeah," he admits, "it's an ugly sweater. That's half the fun."
"You Jonases have weird ideas about fun. Hey, you know what would be fun?"
"What?" Kevin asks.
"You should come to a show. We're going to be in L.A. in a couple of weeks. I can put you on the list. And your brothers."
Kevin already knows they're going to be in L.A. He's keeping up to date with TAI's concert schedule on their MySpace, and he put their L.A. date on his calendar and told Dad and Nick they couldn't schedule anything for that evening.
"Just me," Kevin says. "Unless I'm not cool enough."
"You're kind of not," Mike says. "But it's probably past Frankie's bedtime anyway."
"Probably. Although he does get to stay up for our shows most of the time. Hey, think you can get me backstage?"
Mike laughs. "Yeah, you're coming backstage. Like I'm gonna let you get mobbed by the crowd. You're coming to see me, not them." Mike practically growls the last bit, and Kevin shivers. Slightly drunk Mike is definitely the best thing in the world.
Kevin also yawns. It's late, and he's been up for way too many hours. "Shoot, Mike, I think I need to go to bed."
"If I were there I'd tuck you in," Mike answers promptly.
Kevin's grin feels like it's going to split his face. "Maybe another time. Happy New Year."
"Happy New Year, Kevin. You're my favorite thing from this year."
Kevin's heart skips a beat. "Yeah," he says. "You're my favorite too."
*
"Sit down," Bill says. "You're making me nervous."
Mike wipes his hands on his jeans. "You never get nervous."
"No, but I am now." Bill kicks out toward him. "Sit down. He'll be here soon."
Mike sits down. Shows go better when Bill's not mad at him.
Two minutes later, Bill's hand presses down on his knee. "I didn't want you to sit down so you could fidget on the couch."
"We should have smoked up earlier," Sisky says.
"I don't think Kevin would like it if I were high the first time he comes to see me play."
Bill actually ruffles his hair. "Your young man has had such a positive influence on you."
Mike swats Bill's hand away. The door opens before he can do anything else about Bill.
"Visitor for you." Tony comes in grinning. He can be a dick just like Mike's band. Mike doesn't bother flipping him off because Kevin's right behind him.
Mike gets up from the couch and wishes there weren't quite so many people here for this. It doesn't stop him from meeting Kevin in the middle of the room with the tightest hug he can give. Kevin hugs him back so hard Mike can feel the way his shirt pulls against him because Kevin's gripping handfuls of it. Mike doesn't want to let go. He does anyway, and he and Kevin are both grinning like loons.
"You're here," Mike says.
"I'm here," Kevin agrees. "And I didn't even bring any of my brothers."
Bill coughs ostentatiously.
Mike turns so he's standing next to Kevin instead of in front of him. "You remember the rest of my band."
"Sure," Kevin says. He gives a little wave. "Hi."
"Kevin," Bill says, "you're all Mike can talk about." Bill's such a dick.
"You wanna go watch the openers?" Mike asks Kevin.
"Smooth," Sisky says. Mike ignores him.
"Sure," Kevin says.
Mike holds the door for him. They walk side by side, close enough that their shoulders brush, down the hall toward the stage. It's still the first opener, so there aren't many people hanging out side stage yet. Mike judges the eyeline of the crowd and finds a space where they can see the band but not the audience - which means the audience can't see them either.
They stand shoulder to shoulder. Kevin nudges Mike with an elbow or shoulder every time the band does something he likes. There's something so casually intimate about it that Mike's heart beats faster.
When the last of the openers gets to the end of their set, Mike turns to Kevin and says, "Stay here. I have to go." He waves his hand down the hallway.
"Pre-show stuff," Kevin says. "I got it." He beams at Mike. "Break a leg."
Mike goes back to his band and they go through all their pre-show rituals. On their way onto the stage, Kevin catches his eye and gives him a thumbs up. Mike grins at him and heads out to play.
Mike plays hard. He always plays hard, but he puts some extra effort into it because he knows there's someone there to see him. Bill spends a fair amount of time on Mike's side of the stage, leaning against him.
Mike's not so stupid he doesn't know what Bill's doing, but sometimes he wishes Bill wouldn't help.
He sucks down a couple of bottles of water during their set, and comes off stage sweating like a pig.
Kevin comes toward him grinning and with his arms out. "You kicked butt out there."
"Thanks." Mike ducks away from his hug. "You don't want to hug me. I'm all sweaty."
Kevin actually rolls his eyes at him. "Like I don't know anything about that."
Mike wants to hug Kevin, but he doesn't want to get Kevin all gross and sweaty. At least not like this. Actually, thinking about that just after he got off stage is probably not a good idea.
"I already called first shower," he tells Kevin. "Give me five minutes and then you can hug me all you want."
Bill slides between them and takes Kevin's arm. "Come on. We'll tell you everything about Mike he won't tell you himself."
The rest of Mike's band are such dicks. He flips them off and rushes through his shower.
*
For some reason - a reason Kevin suspects might actually have something to do with him - Bill has a giant folder of pictures of, as he'd declared grandly, "Mike Through The Ages" on his iPhone. He's not kidding about the "Through The Ages" part. He actually has baby pictures in there.
They're just getting to the early days of the band - and Kevin recognizes one or two of those pictures from the internet - when Mike gets out of the shower. He's buttoning his jeans as he comes out, and he's not wearing a shirt.
Kevin stops paying attention to Bill.
He watches the flex of Mike's muscles as he bends over his bag and pulls on a shirt. He doesn't even blink again until Mike's chest is covered up.
"All right," Mike says, his arms spreading out to either side. "Come hug me now."
Kevin lurches off the couch and manages not to fall all over his feet on his way to Mike. And then he's hugging Mike like he wanted to when he got off stage, whole body pressed against Mike, grinning into his neck, and Mike holding on just as tight. Mike never tries to weasel out of Kevin's hugs, as few of them as there have been. Mike smells really good, clean and freshly washed.
"You were amazing," Kevin says. "Just really, really good." He pulls back just enough so he can see Mike's face. "And the crowd loved it. That was so cool."
"Thanks," Mike says. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Kevin hugs him tight again. "It's all true."
He can't hug Mike forever, no matter how much he wants to, so Kevin lets go and steps back. Mike's hands slide slowly off of his back; Kevin's slide away from Mike just as slowly.
Mike bends over his bag again and brings socks and his boots over to the couch. Kevin sits next to him, closer than he sat to Bill.
"I think I'm stuck here for a while," Mike says as he pulls on his socks. "But maybe after that we can get out of here." He glances up from tightening the laces on his boot. "If you know a good place, I could go for late night pancakes."
Kevin tries to think about Mike's words instead of the way he looks bent over and looking up at Kevin. He's already taken Mike to Betty's, and their burgers are better than their pancakes anyway.
"Du-Par's is close." Kevin pulls out his phone to look them up. "I think they're open all night." He finds the listing, which says they are open twenty-four hours. "They have really good pancakes."
"Okay." Mike finishes tying his other boot and leans back against the couch. His head drops back against it and he turns so his cheek is against the upholstery and he's looking at Kevin.
Kevin finds himself staring at the line of Mike's neck.
Mike's foot nudges against his, and Kevin jerks his gaze up, so he's looking at Mike's face instead. It's no less interesting than his neck.
"Dude," Mike says, "it's so awesome that you're here."
"I had to come see you play sometime." Kevin reaches out and pokes Mike's shoulder. "You're going to have to come to one of our concerts."
Mike, to his credit, doesn't look as horrified as he could, although he still looks like this was an unexpected angle. "I suppose that's fair."
"Completely fair." Kevin leans his cheek against the back of the couch, mirroring Mike. They're really close. "You can see how good I am on the guitar. And Nick says he's going to let me play piano on a song on the next tour."
"Piano," Mike says. "Isn't that usually Nick's thing?"
Kevin grins at him because Mike either remembered Kevin telling him that or looked them up. "It is! He's doing more singing, though, so I get a chance to play."
"That's cool."
"I like it." Kevin smiles goofily at Mike, which doesn't matter because Mike is smiling back at him just as goofily.
"Michael," Bill says, and there are two of them there, so Kevin doesn't know how Mike knows that Bill's talking to him.
"Yeah, I know." Mike hauls himself up off the couch. "We're still doing that everyone comes out to sign stuff at every show thing," he explains to Kevin. "You can hang out here or we can get someone to take you to the bus to hang out."
"Maybe if we put a hat on him," Sisky says. "That hair's pretty recognizable."
Kevin's not sure Sisky has any room to talk on that count, but he is right.
"I can hang out here," Kevin says. He's spent a lot of time in both dressing rooms and buses, and given a choice, he'll take the slightly larger space of a dressing room.
"It shouldn't be more than an hour or so," Mike says. He squeezes Kevin's shoulder before he leaves.
*
It takes an hour and a half. Mike spends the whole time trying not to let his antsiness get the better of him. He loves signing stuff for kids who come to their shows, but today he just wants to get back to Kevin. He's pretty sure he doesn't give it away to anyone but his band, who already know he'd rather be doing something else.
When the last kids finally take off, Mike heads back to the dressing room. Kevin's still on the couch, frowning intently at his phone. He looks up when Mike comes into the room, and his frown is immediately replaced by a smile.
"Hey," Mike says. He picks up his bag. "I have to drop this on the bus, and then we can go."
"Okay." Kevin stands up and puts his phone in his pocket. "Lead the way."
"Something important on your phone?"
Kevin looks a little sheepish. "Not really. Just playing hangman with Joe. You got me out of what was going to be an embarrassing loss."
Mike snorts. "Glad to be of service." At the bus, Kevin waits outside while Mike goes in to toss his bag into his bunk and make sure he has his wallet and phone with him.
They walk halfway across the parking lot to Kevin's car, and Mike's glad he pulled on a flannel over his t-shirt; even in L.A., January evenings are a little cool.
"Still want pancakes?" Kevin asks.
"Hell yes." Mike leans back against the window so he can watch Kevin drive. "We used to get midnight pancakes a lot when we were younger, but it's been a while." It's been a really long time, he realizes with a jolt. Later in the tour, he's going to make his band go out for pancakes after a show. "We used to hang out at IHOP in high school."
Kevin glances over at him. "Nick would never let us do that." He looks back at the road but there's still something inquisitive about the tilt of his head. "How is that every time we get together we go eat things Nick would get mad at me for?"
Mike grins at him. "It's my degenerate rock star lifestyle. I'm a bad influence."
Kevin laughs. Mike could listen to him do that forever.
"I promise not to corrupt you so much you can't look your brothers in the eye."
Kevin keeps laughing. "So no hookers and blow then?"
"Not even a totally legal beer," Mike promises. "Just high fat, high calorie foods."
Kevin's still snickering when he pulls into a parking lot. "You're the worst bad influence rock star."
Mike waits for Kevin to come around to his side of the car, and their arms brush against each other all the way into the restaurant.
"Two," Kevin tells the waitress who asks them how many, and she leads them to a small booth with overstuffed vinyl padding. It's small enough that they have to arrange themselves carefully to keep from kicking each other, and Mike's legs end up alongside Kevin's, close enough that they touch every time one of them moves.
Mike opens up the menu to the pancake section and stares at it in disbelief. This time, when he nudges Kevin's knee with his own, it's on purpose.
"These better be really good pancakes," he says, "if they don't even come with strawberries and whipped cream."
"They're so good they don't need any embellishment," Kevin says.
Mike's not sure if he should believe that, but the milkshake at Betty's was as good as promised, so maybe the pancakes will be too. He was looking forward to strawberries and whipped cream though.
"How much of a bad influence will I be if I order a milkshake to go with my pancakes?"
"Terrible," Kevin says with a grin. "Even worse if you share."
*
Kevin just has pancakes, but Mike orders bacon to go with his pancakes, and he asks the waitress for a second straw for the milkshake.
"You're such a bad influence," Kevin says when Mike gives him a piece of his bacon too.
Mike grins at him. "I saw cherry pie on the way in."
Kevin grins back. "You want pie now too?"
Mike's knee nudges his again. Kevin's heart skips a beat every time he does that. "We're sharing."
When the waitress comes back, Mike orders a slice of pie with ice cream and two forks. The sugar in the pie and the ice cream perfectly balance out the tartness of the cherries, and the crust is as flaky as Kevin could wish for.
"This was a good idea," he says.
"The pancakes or pie?" Mike asks through a mouthful of the latter.
"Everything." Kevin means it. He means everything from being born to Joe making him be a T-Bird to Mike suggesting they get late night pancakes.
Mike licks cherry filling off of his lips, and Kevin's eyes get kind of stuck there the same way they do every time Mike does that.
"When are we in the same place again?" Mike asks while he waits for Kevin to get a forkful of pie.
The reminder that they don't get to do this regularly takes some of the sweetness out of the pie.
"We go back on tour next month, but we hit Chicago before you're done and none of our dates overlap."
Mike stares at him over the pie, which makes Kevin realize maybe it's a little weird that he knows that.
"I looked it up," he admits.
Mike cuts his fork down through the ice cream and into the pie. "We don't have much going on after our tour. Maybe I can come visit you."
Kevin beams at him. "That would be awesome. And you still have to see me play."
"Send me your schedule," Mike says. "If you have a day off somewhere cool, maybe we can do something fun too."
"I've heard watching the Jonas Brothers side stage is something fun," Kevin says.
Mike makes an annoyed face at him that dissolves into something friendlier pretty quickly. "Something else fun. Something we can do together."
"I'd like that." Kevin feels just as uncool as he's always suspected he is, but Mike doesn't seem to mind. He actually looks pleased.
"Cool." Mike nudges the pie toward Kevin. "You want the last bite?"
Kevin waves it back toward Mike. "You can have it." Kevin actually is totally full, but he also likes watching Mike enjoy the pie.
After Mike finishes the pie, he pulls out his phone and makes a face at it. "I can't stay much longer. We have a crazy early bus call tonight."
Kevin feels a sharp tug of disappointment. "Okay." He thinks he's being very calm about it, but Mike looks unhappy too.
"This is what sucks about being on tour."
"Yeah," Kevin agrees. Then he shakes it off; no use in spending the small amount of time they do have together being miserable. "But at least you get to live on a bus with your best friends."
Mike snorts. "Yeah, that's such a privilege. I don't know how you do it. I can't imagine if they were my family too."
Kevin shrugs; he hears that a lot. "We're pretty used to it, and I don't ever have to share a room with Joe when we're on the bus, so." Kevin shrugs again. "It's not so bad."
"I guess you don't get homesick." Mike leans back in the booth and stretches in a way that shows off how well his shirt fits him. "I remember our first tour. Bill and I were already living on our own, but Adam was so homesick." Mike shakes his head. "He'll probably deny it if anyone asks, but he was."
"I miss this on the road," Kevin says. "Hanging out with friends who aren't my family and eating places I know are good."
The waitress comes by to see if they need anything else. Kevin asks her for the check and insists on paying. "My hometown, my turn," he reminds Mike.
"I guess that means we'll have to split the check next time," Mike says.
Kevin ignores the thrill that goes through him at that and says, "I guess so."
They get up to leave and Kevin has to exercise a lot of self-restraint to keep from touching Mike while they walk to the car. He does really well until he parks next to Mike's bus and it's time to say goodbye. Then he can't help clinging to Mike when they hug.
"Hey," Mike says, and he pulls away just a little, and then his lips are against Kevin's and it takes Kevin a moment to realize that Mike's kissing him. As soon as he does, he makes this totally embarrassing whimper in the back of his throat and clutches at Mike's shirt.
*
It feels unbelievably good to kiss Kevin after three months of foreplay. If he had the time, Mike would push Kevin back against the car, slide his leg between Kevin's, and keep him there until they both got off or they could relocate to somewhere more private. He doesn't have the time, though. He looked at the clock before they got out of the car, and he only has a couple of minutes.
It makes him pull away well before he's ready. If he doesn't, his band is going to come out to fetch him, and he wants that even less than he wants to stop kissing Kevin.
Somehow one of his hands has ended up tangled in Kevin's hair. Mike carefully pulls it free and pats Kevin's hair back into place. It's mostly a reflex; Kevin's hair looks like it just does whatever it's going to do regardless of what Mike does to it.
If he had more time- Mike cuts off that train of thought. He doesn't have more time.
"I have to go." Mike cups the back of Kevin's head and presses his lips to Kevin's one more time. "I'll call you."
"Yeah." Kevin's looking a little dazed. Mike hopes he hasn't fucked everything up. He's good at doing that.
Mike has to exert all his willpower to keep from looking back as he punches in the code and gets on the bus. He does look out the tinted window, though, and watch Kevin touch his fingers to his mouth and then get into the car.
"Mike and Kevin, sittin' in a tree."
Mike flips Sisky off without looking. It doesn't stop him.
"K-I-S-S-I-N-G."
Mike loses sight of Kevin's car as it turns out of the parking lot. Mike's grown a lot, as a person, in the last couple of years; he walks past the rest of his band - seriously, dicks, all of them - without hitting anyone, even though Sisky continues the rhyme and the rest of them smirk at him.
He rolls into his bunk and lies on his back, staring at the ceiling. He doesn't bother turning on the light, but there's just enough filtering in around the edges of the curtain that he can see the ceiling. Not that the ceiling's interesting or anything; it just gives him something to look at that isn't the back of his eyelids.
He kissed Kevin. He kissed Kevin while his whole band was probably watching them through the bus windows.
If he's honest with himself, which he finds he's trying to be more often since Bill called him out about not liking the women he's slept with, that kiss was a long time coming. It was also, he thinks, grinning without trying to hide it, one of the best kisses of his life. Bill might think he liked some of the men he's slept with, but he hasn't ever liked anyone like this.
He just hopes he didn't mess everything up by doing it. They never talked about it. Mike's been pretty sure about Kevin's interest in him too, but Kevin hasn't said anything about liking guys. Of course, he hasn't said anything about liking girls either, so Mike can still hope.
The bus starts to move, and Mike resists the urge to call Kevin right now.
He can't believe he actually kissed Kevin. He can't wait to do it again.
*
"Kevin! Time to get up!"
Kevin scrunches his eyes tighter. Sometimes sharing a room with Frankie is not all it's cut out to be.
"Shh," Mom says. "He was up late last night. Let him sleep."
The door closes again, and it's quiet, which means Mom took Frankie out with her. Of course, he's awake now, and he's not going to be able to fall asleep again, no matter how late he was up last night.
Kevin grins into his pillow. Last night. Last night was definitely a date. He's dating Mike Carden. This is the best thing that's ever happened to him.
He grabs his phone off the nightstand and scrolls down to Mike's name. Good morning. :) he types in. He has to think about what else to say. "Kiss me again" might be a little forward, plus it's not something Mike can do from the road, as much as it is what Kevin wants. He grins again. Mike kissed him! It's no less amazing no matter how many times he thinks it.
He types, Miss you already, and sends it before he can talk himself out of it. They've been talking for three months, and Mike kissed him. It can't be too forward to say he misses Mike.
He hops in the shower and gets dressed, then sticks his phone in his pocket before he goes downstairs to see if there's still breakfast.
He's in luck; the rest of the family is still at the table, and there are enough pancakes left that he won't have to make himself something to eat.
Mom kisses his cheek and hands him a plate. "I was going to let you sleep in."
"I wasn't going to fall asleep again." Kevin takes a couple of pancakes and drizzles just a taste of syrup onto them under Nick's watchful eye.
"Someone had a good night," Joe says. When Kevin looks up, Joe's smirking at him. "How's Mike?"
Kevin knows he's not keeping enough off of his face, but he says, "Good," and tries to look meaningfully in Frankie's direction. Maybe the reminder will keep Joe from pursuing it much further.
As usual, nothing that subtle works on Joe.
"I didn't even hear you come in."
"I didn't get back until late." Kevin shoves a forkful of pancake into his mouth so he can't say anything else.
"I never get to stay out late when it's not for one of your concerts," Frankie says, saving Kevin from whatever Joe was inclined to say about it.
"When you're Kevin's age," Mom says, "then you can stay out late. Joe, let your brother eat."
Joe's look promises that this isn't the end of the conversation, but Nick distracts him by saying, "Let's go work on that bridge."
Frankie tucks his feet up under him on his chair. "What did you do last night?"
"I watched Mike's band play, and then we went to get something to eat." Kevin relaxes a little; Frankie's not as much trouble as Joe.
"Joe kept saying it was a date. Was it a date?"
Or maybe not.
"Frankie," Mom says, "If you're done eating, you can put your plate up and play the Wii for half an hour."
Frankie's old enough to know when he's being gotten rid of, but not so old that he'd rather stay and make a nuisance of himself than go play video games. He puts his plate in the sink and leaves Kevin alone with Mom and Dad.
Kevin puts his fork down. He's not hungry anymore.
"Kevin," Dad says, "was it a date?"
Kevin's heart pounds even though Dad doesn't sound mad, just curious.
"Yes."
Mom and Dad look at each other.
"We're worried," Mom says, "because Mike's older than you, and he doesn't seem to live the same kind of life we do."
"We don't want you to be pressured into doing anything you wouldn't do otherwise," Dad adds.
"He's only three years older." Kevin tries to keep his voice even. He wants to yell, or cry, but he knows that his best argument here is to be an adult about it. "He hasn't tried to pressure me into anything."
"We know we've raised you right," Dad says, "and we hope you will always make the right choices and walk with Jesus. We also know that at your age having new friends might tempt you toward a different path."
Kevin thinks for a moment about how to say that it's not like that at all in a way that Mom and Dad will listen to him. "I know that God has a path for me," he says. "I'm walking that path with Jesus as best I can. Going on a date with Mike hasn't changed that."
"I'm sure it hasn't now," Mom says. "But remember to keep Jesus in your heart." She gets up and comes around to kiss the top of his head. "I know you'll make the right choices."
Dad nods. "We trust you, Kevin. Don't give us a reason not to."
*
Mike wakes up to the familiar movement of the bus. He goes to the bathroom and brushes his teeth - late night pancakes and cherry pie do not make for pleasant morning breath - before he picks up his phone. There are a couple of dickish messages from his band that he deletes. He leaves the message from Kevin for last:
Good morning. :) Miss you already.
Mike's totally helpless against the grin it brings to his face. miss you too, he texts back.
If anyone made coffee, it's all gone now, so Mike starts a new pot and sits down at the table to wait for it.
The pot's almost done when Kevin calls. Mike grins into the phone as he answers it with a cheerful, "Hey. You were up early this morning."
"Mom was going to let me sleep, but Frankie was being too loud and woke me up." There's something off about Kevin's voice that Mike can't quite place. "You slept in late."
"I did." The coffee pot clicks off, so Mike tucks his phone between shoulder and ear and pours himself a cup. "If they aren't staying up, the rest of my band sleeps late. Unlike yours."
Kevin's chuckle doesn't sound quite right either. "We do get up pretty early in the morning. It's the secret to our success."
Maybe Kevin is just tired. But, oh fuck, dating - holy fuck, dating - someone he likes means that Mike has to ask and that he actually cares about the answer.
"Are you freaked out about last night?"
There's a heartbeat too long of silence, and then Kevin says, "I'm not," with a weird emphasis. He's silent for another heartbeat, and Mike doesn't know what to say, and then Kevin says, "Mom and Dad kind of are."
Mike has never been good with parents.
"Oh."
"Yeah," Kevin sighs. "I think they'll get over it."
Mike doesn't know what that means. "Does that mean we can't hang out?"
"No way," Kevin says forcefully. "You said you'd come see me play."
Fuck, Mike hates having to take someone else's feelings into account, especially when he's not getting laid out of the deal. "It's not going to cause problems with your parents?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. But, hey, you think Frankie's cool," Kevin says almost too brightly. "If it'll make them feel better, we can bring him along to chaperone."
"If you do that, I'm going to make him look the other way when I kiss you. I wouldn't want your parents to think I'm a bad influence on both of you."
"No," Kevin says, "that's cool. I don't want him watching us kiss either."
Mike's stomach relaxes. He will get to kiss Kevin again. He didn't fuck everything up.
There's a muffled voice calling Kevin's name, and Kevin calls out to them, "Just a minute." To Mike he says, "I have to go. Nick's being a taskmaster again."
Mike doesn't want to let Kevin go, but at least he'll be able to talk to Kevin again. "I guess I'll talk to you later."
"You will," Kevin promises. "And I'll send you the list of our tour dates and days off and stuff. If there's anywhere you want to visit, we can do that."
"Okay," Mike agrees. He doesn't want to say goodbye. Apparently Kevin doesn't either, because they just listen to each other breathe for a few long seconds.
When Kevin finally speaks, he says, "I have to go," soft and apologetic.
"Yeah, I know. I have coffee to drink anyway."
Kevin laughs. "I'll talk to you later." He hangs up, and Mike clicks his own phone off before reaching for his cooling coffee.
Chiz slides into the booth across from him with his own cup of coffee. Mike didn't even notice him coming out of the bunks.
"I heard some of that. Problems with the parents?"
Mike shrugs. "Yeah. I guess. Kevin thinks they'll get over it."
Chiz hmms and sips at his coffee. "You could talk to Bill about it. He's been where you are."
Mike really doesn't want to talk to Bill about this. He's okay talking to Chiz a little because Chiz is his best friend, but he doesn't really want to talk about it with anyone. He doesn't want there to be anything to talk about.
"They're only mostly over it because of Genevieve." Mike tightens his hands around his coffee mug. "Kevin and I are barely even dating right now, not giving them grandchildren." And, shit, there he goes, putting it out there out loud.
Chiz hmms again. "Maybe." Then he looks at Mike with that look that reminds Mike, when he's forgotten, that Chiz is a lot sharper than his usual easy-going nature would suggest. "You do know that we don't care that you're dating a guy."
Mike shrugs uncomfortably. "Yeah, sure."
"You don't talk about him very much, is all," Chiz says. He sips at his coffee while Mike stares down into his. "We're going to give you shit because he's a Jonas brother, but not because he's your boyfriend."
Maybe his coffee will surge up out of his cup and swallow Mike up and take him away from this conversation. When that doesn't happen, he mutters, "He's not my boyfriend."
Chiz actually laughs at him then. "You didn't even look at that girl two nights ago who was all over you."
Mike has to think to remember who Chiz is talking about. He vaguely remembers a woman at a bar they'd gone to after the show. She was flirting with him, but Adam and Butcher were having an argument over the best kind of fruit snacks, and Mike was trying to pay attention so he could tell Kevin about it later.
"Or that guy in Austin."
Mike remembers the guy. He was solid, and wearing a shirt to show it off, and he was the kind of guy Mike goes for sometimes. He gave Mike a not particularly subtle once-over, and Mike didn't even think about going for it. He just smiled, shrugged, and casually turned back to look at the pictures of Genevieve that Bill couldn't resist sharing the moment Christine emailed them. The guy in Austin is probably a more persuasive argument about Kevin being his boyfriend.
*
In-flight wi-fi is pretty much Kevin's favorite thing right now. It means he can read Mike's email from thirty thousand feet and there isn't anything else he's supposed to be doing, so he can also pop his earphones in and theoretically be undisturbed. "Theoretically" being the key word. In reality, he's just clicked in Gmail's reply box when Joe flops down in the previously unoccupied seat next to him. Joe pulls out the earbud closest to him and sticks it in his own ear.
Joe makes a face. "You're totally not the cool one."
Kevin thinks George Strait is totally cool, but he knows from experience that it's not worth arguing. He takes his earbud back. "Did you come up here just to harass me?"
"Pretty much." Joe leans over and peers at Kevin's screen. "What are you doing?"
Kevin closes his laptop before Joe can read Mike's email. "Email. And, no, you can't read it."
Joe pouts, but not for very long. "You had to listen to country for that?"
"I'm also making a mix." Telling Joe that was maybe a mistake, because he lights up with glee.
"What for?" Before Kevin can even answer, Joe rushes on with, "You should put something cooler than George Strait on there."
"It's for Mike," Kevin says. "George Strait has to be on there because it's a mix of things I like that he might too."
Joe stares at him. "And you're putting 'I Just Want To Dance With You' on it?" He lowers his voice. "Do Mom and Dad know you have a boyfriend?"
"He's not-" Kevin realizes he's way too loud if he doesn't want this conversation to be overheard. "He's not my boyfriend," he says quietly. "And I don't know if it's going on there."
Joe pokes his head up over the top of their seats and looks around, then settles back down and leans in toward Kevin. "But you're dating him, right?"
Kevin briefly wonders why he thought talking to Joe about Mike would be a good idea at all. "Yeah."
"And Mom and Dad?"
Kevin shrugs tightly. "Know."
Joe bumps his shoulder against Kevin's. "Nick and I totally have your back."
Kevin smiles for real. "Does Nick know that?"
"Dude," Joe says, "I can totally speak for Nick."
Nick appears at the end of the row like he's Beetlejuice and saying his name three times summoned him. "You can not."
Joe pushes the armrest up and slides half into Kevin's seat so Nick can sit down with them. "I can too. We totally have Kevin's back about Mike."
"Of course we do." Nick looks from Joe to Kevin. "Do we need to?"
"Mom and Dad think he's a bad influence." The words seem to stick in Kevin's throat and leave an unpleasant aftertaste.
"If they think that, they seriously don't know you," Nick says. Joe nods in vigorous agreement.
Kevin totally loves his brothers. "Thanks."
Joe wraps his arms around Kevin and squeezes him almost too tight. "I told you, we totally have your back." He keeps one arm around Kevin's shoulders and turns back so he can see Nick. "Kevin's making a mix for Mike. You have to help me convince him to put something cooler than George Strait on there."
*
Mike opens his email and skips straight to the one from Kevin. "Made this for you," it says. "Joe and Nick tried to help but I wouldn't let them." There are another three paragraphs of Kevin's brothers' antics, and then his signature, and then, "P.S. Miss you. Can't wait to see you in Cleveland."
Mike grins and downloads the attachment. It's a zip file of music, with a document telling him the track list. He unzips it and pulls it into iTunes so he can sync it with his iPod.
He starts listening while he writes back, exchanging stories about Sisky and Bill for Kevin's Joe and Nick ones and giving Kevin his flight information.
Most of it is not the kind of music he would choose to listen to for himself, but he's willing to give it a chance if Kevin thinks he might like it. He gives up on his email after replying to Kevin and instead stretches out, taking up the whole couch in the back lounge, and closes his eyes while he listens.
He gets maybe halfway through the playlist before someone sits down on his stomach.
Mike's eyes fly open, and he pushes at Bill. "Get off of me."
Bill falls laughing to the floor.
Mike pulls one of his earbuds out. "You're fucking heavy."
Bill shrugs. "You looked like you needed to be bothered. What are you listening to?" He takes the earbud from Mike's hand without asking and puts it in his own ear. He makes a face a few seconds later. "Is this country? Why are you listening to this?"
Mike reaches over and takes his earbud back. "Kevin sent me a mix."
Bill stares at him. "That's adorable," he finally says, "in a totally high school kind of way."
Mike pushes at his shoulder. "Shut up. Like you don't send music home to Christine and Genevieve all the time."
Bill pulls his knees up to his chest and rests his cheek against them. "So what's he telling you with music?"
Mike hits pause and pulls out his other earbud so he's not trying to split his attention. "I haven't listened to it all the way through yet."
Bill keeps just looking at him, for long enough that it starts to make Mike uncomfortable.
"I'm proud of you," Bill finally says, serious and affectionate. "I think dating someone you actually like is good for you."
Mike picks at a spot where his jeans are starting to wear through. "His parents are kind of freaked out."
"I'd be more surprised if they weren't."
Mike keeps poking at his jeans so he doesn't have to look at Bill. "Chiz said I should talk to you." He makes a face. "I don't really remember what it was like with you and Christine."
"Her parents hated me," Bill says bluntly. "They didn't want her dating me, and she did anyway."
Mike watches out of the corner of his eye as Bill scoots closer and leans his head on the couch next to Mike's knee.
"It's going to be tougher on him than on you, and sometimes you'll want to just let go because it'll be easier and you don't want to hurt him." Bill pokes at his knee. "If you love him, it's worth it if you can tough it out."
It's too early for Mike to know if he loves Kevin, but not too early to know he doesn't want to do anything to hurt him.
Part 3