Copyright May 15-16, 2001 by Matthew Haldeman-Time
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Nick Lachey/Jeff Timmons
Disclaimer: The young men who comprise 98 Degrees and the Backstreet Boys are their own people. The author has not met anyone here described, nor does the author mean to suggest that these people act this way in real life. This writing is a work of fiction. I make no money from this venture.
Dedication: This slashfic is for Ewan McGregor and the Savage Garden slashwriters.
Wherein you will find Nick's toys, Nick's shit, and, um...
"That Brian owns all of this - - stuff?"
"No-"
"That we're pushovers who can't say no when some big-nosed shrimp bats his lashes?"
"I meant it's our fault that we look like this. If we looked like Howie, no one would ask us to-"
"If I looked like Howie-"
"Whatever uncharitable thing you want to say right now, you don't mean. You're just mad at him because he's a Backstreet Boy and, let me say, as of right now, all Backstreet Boys suck."
"I knew you'd see things my way," Jeff said with grim satisfaction, dropping two boxes of Nick Carter's art supplies on the floor.
"Nobody needs this much stuff," Nick said. "What is Brian doing with this many boxes of clothes? Who does he think he is, AJ?"
"With this many clothes, you would think he'd dress better," Jeff agreed.
"And what is this - - Nick's shit. It says, right on the box, Nick's shit. If I'm carting around a box of-"
"Nick, I'm sure it's not literally-"
"Then where am I supposed to put it? In the bedroom? Bathroom? Den?"
"Don't get hysterical."
"I am not getting hysterical! I'm getting hysterical. Drew is never moving again. Unless he moves out of this house and leaves Quick and Quack be-"
"Quick and Quack?"
"Dick and Dack, Tic Tac Toe, whatever."
"You're cute when you're angry."
"I'm not mad, I'm just sick of carrying around Nick Carter's literal or figurative shit."
"Leave it in the bedroom and let Drew deal with it."
"Moving our stuff was a lot easier."
"Well, Nick, we're not Backstreet Boys."
"Hallelujah."
"Amen."
"What is this?"
"Read the label."
"I am. Nick's toys. Nick's toys. What, his rocking horse and yo-yo?"
"Nick, just carry it up to the bedroom."
"You're sure it doesn't belong in the playroom?"
"We're talking about Nick Carter. The bedroom is the playroom. Hey! Don't-"
"I am not carrying that box."
"Nick-"
"You carry it. Or hide it. Pretend we lost it."
"Tell me you think Nick has a box full of sex toys."
"Tell me you don't think Nick has a box full of sex toys."
"Never mind. Just take it up to the bedroom."
"No."
"Nick."
"I'm not touching it."
"It's not going to attack you."
"Okay. But if anything in there moves, Drew is moving out."
They made it back upstairs. Jeff set down his boxes and reached for the box of "song ideas lose and die, pond scum" on top of "Nick's toys" in Nick's arms. Jeff backed up into a box of Brian's clothes, overbalanced, and fell. Trying to catch either Jeff or the box of lyrics, Nick dropped Nick's toys.
Jeff was on his back on the floor. On his chest was a pale blue phallus with oversized scrotum. Written in black marker up the underside was, "BRIAN."
Jeff almost screamed.
Nick started laughing.
"Get it off of me," Jeff said.
"Is it Brian's, or does it represent Brian, or does Brian use it?" Nick asked.
"You are disturbed," Jeff said. "So is Nick Carter."
"You think they use it?"
"Nick must. I don't want to know."
"If he has the real Brian, why would he-"
"Maybe when Brian dumped him? I am not talking about this. We are not discussing this. You get it off of me. I am not touching it."
"You think Brian looks like that?"
"I don't know."
"Yours is bigger."
Jeff snorted.
"Do the balls look out of proportion to you?"
"You're not going to drop it."
"Mine dropped years ago, thanks."
"I noticed. Yeah, these are a little big."
"You think-"
"Nick, I do not know how big Brian's are, and I don't want to know how big Brian's are, and-"
"You don't want to know?"
"I don't."
"You think they're bigger than mine?"
Standing, Jeff threw the phallus at Nick.
Nick threw it back at him.
"I am not a prude and I am not - - but I do not need to come face-to-face, without warning, something that looks like this and has been up Nick Carter's - - why is it blue?"
"Maybe it's not Nick's. Maybe it's Brian's."
"You think Brian uses it?"
"It has his name on it."
Jeff looked at it. "Maybe Nick uses it and pretends it's Brian."
"I don't want to know what goes on in his weird fantasy life."
"Maybe Brian uses it."
"Can we put it away now?"
"You think Brian's-"
"I don't know. I don't want to know. You don't know. You don't want to know."
Jeff ran his thumb over the head.
"Jeff, you're disturbing me."
Jeff clicked a switch near the base.
"It's humming."
"It's a vibrator."
"Nick does not own a vibrator."
"If Nick doesn't, Brian does."
"Turn it off!"
"I wonder what else is in that box."
"Drew is moving out right now."
"Nick."
"What?"
Jeff smiled. Turned
off the vibrator. Licked his teeth. Dropped the phallus and
reached for Nick.