I don't even know, you guys. There was a challenge at boyfriends_fic, and yeah.


*



Nick wakes up early on Joe's birthday; the room is still dark and the curtains are tightly drawn against the barest idea of morning outside. He cocoons himself in the warm white sheets for a few minutes, trying to decide on the best approach. A sneak attack seems to have the highest chance of success.

Birthday spankings are a family tradition that they've mostly given up on, being on the road so much - not to mention growing up - but Nick had remembered it last night, and now he's determined to freak Joe out, mostly for his own amusement. Joe is still dead asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, flat on his back with his arms flung out. Nick slips silently from his bed. Then he launches himself at Joe, who jolts awake with an undignified shriek, no idea what is happening.

Nick takes immediate advantage of the split-second before Joe's fight-or-flight instinct kicks in, pinning him to the mattress and announcing himself. "Happy birthday," he laughs in Joe's ear as Joe squirms underneath him. Joe calls him a fuck, which makes Nick laugh even harder. "It's time for spankings," he declares, and flips Joe over with ease.

"I hate you," Joe says without malice, trying to wriggle away, off Nick's lap.

Nick pulls lightly on his hair and doesn't let him. "The sooner you stop fighting me, the sooner it will be over." He says it calmly, but he's sort of disappointed when Joe simply quits struggling. Apparently it's too early for Joe to want to roughouse. Fifty percent of the fun is gone now, and Nick had been in the mood to play. Now it's just sort of weird, Joe laying across his lap, waiting for Nick to spank him.

He's doing it anyway.

"One," he says, and brings his hand down. It's a solid slap - he's not actually trying to put any real force into it and Joe's wearing boxers - but Joe grunts and jerks anyway. "Ssh," Nick breathes, not realizing he's saying it until it's out there. Joe relaxes visibly as he watches. That's also sort of weird. He ignores it.

"Two," he counts, and his hand connects with Joe's ass, and Joe twitches again.

He's on number eight when he realizes that what's pressing against his thigh is Joe's erection. And that the noise Joe is making every time Nick lands a blow is not a grunt, it's more like a groan, maybe even a moan. With a sort of breathy gasp at the end. Suddenly there are a thousand questions flooding his mind; questions like oh my God, what is happening here? and is this really what Joe sounds like when he's turned on and stuff?, but of course it's what Joe sounds like when he's turned on, Nick hasn't lived on a bus with a bunch of dudes and not known what breathy little whimpery moans signified, no matter how muffled they were.

"Uhm, Joe," he mutters. He sees Joe's hands clutch at the sheets.

Joe's voice is hoarse when he says, "You still have twelve more."

"I can stop if you -"

"No."

Nick glances at the clock, bright red numbers that declare there's still time. "Are you sure?"

Joe turns his head and looks up at Nick. His face is flushed and wow, that's totally both embarrassment and arousal, and Nick's heart sort of seizes up in his chest in a way he wasn't counting on happening today or any other day. "Do it," Joe whispers.

Nick doesn't hesitate, "Nine. Ten. Eleven." Joe's ass is warm under his palm even through the thin fabric. "Twelve." That one he puts a little more force into, and Joe moves in a way he can't explain and his hips keep twitching a little afterwards. Like he's rubbing himself on Nick's thigh.

"Keep going," Joe hisses.

This should be exponentially more weird. Nick should be shoving Joe off his lap and telling him to go rub one out in the bathroom, away from him and with the door shut all the way. Instead, he's intrigued. And sort of turned on. His desire to mess with Joe just for the hilarity of it has turned into the desire to watch his brother get off.

He's going with it.

"Thirteen," and Joe moans out loud when Nick's hand connects, not holding it back now. "Fourteen. Fifteen."

"More."

"Sixteen." Smack. "Seventeen." Smack. "Eighteen." A little harder this time, his hand stings from it. "Nineteen. Twenty."

Joe sucks in a really loud breath and rolls off his lap, then reaches up for Nick and pulls him down, lining up their mouths and kissing him before Nick can even think. Joe tastes sort of gross. He doesn't kiss like any of the girls Nick has kissed before kiss. The alarm clock goes off and Nick fumbles around behind himself for a second before hitting it hard enough to shut it up, not letting go of Joe too much while he does.

"Did you know you liked that when I started doing it?" he breathes against Joe's cheek.

"Yep."

Another thousand questions, most a variation on who were you doing that with (that wasn't me)?, but that's way more than he wants to contemplate this early. What he says outloud is, "And you let me do it?"

"Of course," Joe says, sounding like he can't imagine not letting Nick do that, and Nick surges forward to claim his mouth again, sliding a hand down Joe's stomach towards the waistband of his boxers. Part of him expects Joe to stop him, but Joe doesn't - he's clutching at Nick's shoulders instead and his mouth is open in a loose "o" - and Nick keeps going.

He's barely gotten his hand around Joe's cock when Joe is gasping and coming, all slick and wet over Nick's hand and wrist. "Ungh, sorry," he mumbles, falling back against the mattress.

Nick pulls his hand out of Joe's shorts and stares at it for a second. Then he wipes it off on Joe's t-shirt and kisses Joe on the cheek, close to his mouth. ""Don't fall back asleep; we have to get up," he says. He ignores Joe's disappointed groan, even though he's disappointed himself. He'll have to jerk off in the shower, and fast. "Come on."

"Can we celebrate more later?" Joe asks, curling a hand over Nick's hip in an unmistakable suggestion.

"Yeah." He kisses Joe again, on the lips this time. "Happy birthday."

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