Copyright October 4, 2004 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Nick Carter/AJ McLean, Howie Dorough/Brian Littrell

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise 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 Elizabeth.

Notice: Elizabeth and I were talking about Nick’s freshly shaven head, and she said that maybe I should write about it.  Here you go.

---

Vanessa

        “Sir?”

        “You don’t respect my shit, you don’t respect anything I have to say, you don’t respect me!  I can’t fucking live with you!” AJ shouted.

        “Sir?”

        “I can’t fucking live with you!” AJ yelled.  “Get the fuck out, Nick.  Just get the fuck out!  Get your motherfucking shit and your motherfucking-”

        “Sir?”

        Nick inhaled suddenly, coming back to reality.  “What?” he asked, trying to focus.

        The stewardess smiled at him politely, all bright white teeth and shiny red lipstick.  “Would you like a cocktail, sir?”

        Nick was halfway through his automatic no when he stopped himself short.  Why say no?  Why the hell not have a drink?  God, when was the last time he’d even had a drink?  He didn’t drink when he was around AJ.  He’d used to drink when he was out, but coming home to AJ with alcohol on his breath had started to make him feel weird, like he was betraying AJ, almost like he was screwing around on AJ or something.  Coming home drunk, especially, right in front of AJ, and then trying to act like he wasn’t hungover the next morning like AJ wouldn’t notice, it made him feel like shit.  So he’d just stopped drinking.  He couldn’t even bitch about giving it up, because once he compared what a bottle of Jack meant to him versus what it meant to AJ, it wasn’t that much of a sacrifice.

        But he didn’t have to give up shit for AJ anymore.  He could do whatever the hell he wanted.  He could drink his own damned weight in Cristal if he wanted to, damn it.  “Yeah,” he said to the stewardess.  “What’ve you got?”

        The damned ticket agent had wanted to know where the hell he wanted to go.  Like it fucking mattered.  He’d picked L.A., because it was the other side of the country.  He should’ve picked the other side of the world.  They hadn’t had any seats for a couple of hours, so he’d had time to kill.

        Time to kill AJ.

        Damn it, he didn’t want AJ dead, he just, damn it.  He just wanted AJ fucking back, except he wasn’t even going to get into that.

        He hadn’t wanted to hang around the airport; he’d spent enough of his life doing that.  So he’d driven around for a while, and he’d gotten something to eat, and he’d thought about getting a new tattoo, except he couldn’t think about tattoos without thinking of AJ.  Piercings, either.

        Seeing his reflection in the shop window, though, he could see why AJ thought he was so fucking damned immature.  He looked exactly the same as he’d looked five years ago.  Nothing’d fucking changed on the outside, so everybody thought nothing’d fucking changed on the inside.

        So, fine.  He’d fucking change the outside.

        Nick didn’t even know why he’d come here.  It wasn’t like he didn’t have memories of AJ here, too.  Like he hadn’t gone down on AJ for the first time here.  Like they hadn’t spent last-

        Fuck it.

        “Can I come in?”

        “Your hair,” Howie said.  “Nick, where’s your hair?”

        Nick rolled his eyes.  “I shaved it off.  Can I come in?”

        “Yes, of course, come in,” Howie said, ushering him into the house.  Closing the door, Howie reached up with one hand and touched his head.  “I didn’t even recognize you.  It feels weird,” Howie said, rubbing the fuzz.  “You look great.”

        He looked like shit, but it had nothing to do with the hair.  Nick hugged Howie.  “Can I crash here?”

        “Sure,” Howie said, hugging him back, kissing his cheek.  “Brian’s not here, he’ll be back on Tuesday.  What are you doing here?”

        “Just…visiting,” Nick said.  He’d forgotten Brian was in New York, which was stupid, because he’d been on the phone with Brian about ten minutes before AJ had gone apeshit.  Damn, he was messed up.  “You got anything to eat?”

        “I can find something,” Howie said.  “You look so different.”

        He rubbed his hand over his scalp, still self-conscious about it.  “Do I look any older?”

        “A lot,” Howie said.  “I think it’s because you’re not smiling.”

        Nick told Howie he’d broken up with AJ.  Technically, since AJ had thrown him out, AJ had broken up with him.  He cried, a little, which pissed him off, but Howie just got him some tissues and made him keep talking.

        Howie said AJ wasn’t answering his phone.  Nick didn’t know whether to be scared or pissed off.

        Howie liked his shaved head.  Nick liked it, too.  He still freaked himself out a little when he unexpectedly saw himself in the mirror, but he thought it looked good.  It felt great when Howie rubbed it.

        AJ wouldn’t be able to mess with his hair anymore, but it wasn’t like he wanted AJ to touch him anymore, anyway.

        Sleeping without AJ sucked.

        Not getting to fuck AJ sucked.

        Being without AJ sucked.

        AJ hadn’t had to be such a damned asshole about it.  He’d meant to tell AJ about it, and he’d planned on taking care of it, getting it fixed himself.

        He’d said something like that to AJ, all of that and then something about it wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to get it fixed, and AJ had said, “It’s not about the money, Nick!  I don’t care how much damned money you have!  You can’t fix everything by paying for it!  Stop fucking up shit in the first place!”

        Fuck up shit.  He didn’t fuck up shit.  It was a stupid car, damn it.

        “It’s not about the fucking car!”

        Nick rolled over.  He hated AJ and he hated being alone.  Maybe he’d get up and watch TV.

        “You don’t drive my car, Nick.  You ride in my car like you ride on my dick!  I drive!”

        Asshole.  Nick rolled over again, squeezing his eyes shut.  He fucking hated AJ.

        “I called him yesterday, and he didn’t answer,” Brian said on the other end of the line.  “Kevin hasn’t talked to him, either.”

        Howie looked out into the night, trying not to worry.

        “I’m sure he’s fine,” Brian said.  “AJ’s too smart to do anything stupid.”

        Smart, yes, AJ was smart.  And impulsive, and rebellious, and cutting himself off from his first line of support.  Howie didn’t like it.

        “How’s Nick?” Brian asked, gently steering him in a new direction.  Howie had to appreciate it.  Unless they went to check on AJ personally - - which wasn’t out of the question - - they couldn’t do anything about it.  Nick, however, was another matter.

        “He’s upset,” Howie said, walking down the hallway.  “He looks so different, I didn’t recognize him until I opened the door.”

        “Nick without hair,” Brian said.  “I can’t imagine it.”

        “He’s really frustrated,” Howie said.  Headlights washed across the front windows.  “AJ said a lot of things to him that he doesn’t know what to do with.  Some of it was simmering for a while, but some of it, he doesn’t know where it came from.”

        “That’s AJ for you,” Brian said.  “He thinks we should be able to read him like a book.  He just doesn’t know the book’s in Swahili.”  The front door opened; Brian came in, cellphone in one hand, suitcase in the other.  He set the suitcase down, closing the door.  “Hi.”

        “Hi,” Howie said, coming forward into Brian’s embrace.  The press of Brian’s body to his, lining up from chest to thigh, the warm circle of Brian’s arms, the light scent that was all Brian, god, he’d missed this.

        “Is Nick asleep?” Brian asked.

        “Yeah,” Howie said.  Brian’s fingers tangled back through his hair; Brian’s smile was nothing but happy to see him.  Howie hated to ruin the moment, but he had to say, “AJ kicked him out five days ago.  It was a really bad scene.  If-”

        “It’s okay,” Brian said.  “AJ can take care of himself.  Let me talk to Nick tomorrow.  If AJ’s still not answering by the end of the week, we’ll fly out and take Nick back and see if we can track AJ down.  Okay?”

        It was a sensible plan.  “Okay,” Howie said.  “But I don’t know if Nick wants to go back.”

        “It’s Nick,” Brian said with a smile.  “It’s AJ.  He wants to go back.”

        Howie had to smile, too.  “I missed you.”

        “I missed you,” Brian said.  Brian’s kiss was slow, deepening gradually as Howie’s embrace tightened.  “The hotel bed was great, but it didn’t have you in it.”

        “Boy, Nick, do you look like shit.”

        Nick’s head shot up.  “Brian!”

        “How you doing?” Brian asked, coming around the table to give him a hug.  “Look at you, trying to be bald.”  Brian rubbed his scalp, grinning at him.  “What’s going on?”

        Seeing Howie had made him feel at least ten percent better.  Seeing Brian had him up to twenty-five percent.  “Just hanging out.  How’s Kevin?”

        “Still Kevin,” Brian said, taking a seat at the table.  “How’s AJ?”

        Nick wanted to glare.  “He’s a fucking asshole.”

        “Harsh words this early in the morning,” Brian said.  “What happened?”

        “I dented his fucking car!” Nick said.  “He acted like I killed somebody!  I know, it’s his car, messing with his car is like messing with his dick, but hell, I mess with his dick!”

        Brian laughed like he was surprised.  “I didn’t look at it that way.  But you’d never dent his dick, would you?”

        Hell, he’d never let anything happen to AJ’s dick.  “It was an accident.  I was going to get it fixed.  He fucking flipped out about it.  He kicked me out of the house.”

        “Did anything else happen?” Brian asked.

        Nick sighed, pushing away his bowl.  “He thinks I’m juvenile.  He said I have to grow up and accept responsibility.  There are consequences to everything, and someday I’m going to get nailed right in the ass, and I’m not going to know how to handle it unless I start dealing with shit now.  I’m not saying that’s not true!  Look, shit, my bills are paid, I wear my seatbelt, what does he want me to do?”

        “I don’t know,” Brian said.  “Have you asked him about it?”

        Nick felt himself scowl.  “I haven’t talked to him.”

        “It’s been almost a week,” Brian said.  “You don’t miss him?”

        “I miss fucking him,” Nick said.  And kissing him.  And talking to him.  And hanging out with him.  And the way he smiled right after he stopped laughing, that warm smile with-  “I don’t miss the way he acted.”

        Howie went to answer the door, and when he came back, he said, “Brian?”  Brian glanced over at him, and then started getting up.

        “What?” Nick asked.

        “We’ll be in the kitchen,” Howie said.

        “Making popcorn,” Brian said.

        “What are you-”  They were already leaving the room.  “What the hell,” Nick said.

        “Hey.”

        Nick was up and off of the sofa before he’d even realized he was standing.  AJ was stepping slowly into the room, like he wasn’t sure he was welcome.  He looked good as hell, but he wasn’t welcome.  “What are you doing here?”

        “I thought you’d be here.”  AJ took a step farther into the room.  “I didn’t want to call.  I thought if you knew I was coming, you wouldn’t stay.”

        “I wouldn’t have.  What the hell do you want?”

        AJ scratched his eyebrow.  “That’s a direct question,” he said, like he didn’t want to give a direct answer.

        “Yeah, grown-ups ask direct questions,” Nick snapped.

        “No, kids ask direct questions,” AJ said.  “Adults are the ones who say everything except what they really mean.”

        Oh, hell, no.  “You-”

        “No, Nick, no,” AJ said quickly, in the voice he used when he wanted to be absolutely straight-up.  “That wasn’t a crack against you, that was a crack against me.  I said a lot of shit the other day, and some of it I meant, and some if it I didn’t mean, but none of it was what I really felt.”

        Nick hated him for coming here, for showing up in his safe haven.  Except this was AJ’s safe haven, too.  “When you told me you hated living with me, it sounded like you felt that way.  When you told me you couldn’t stand waking up beside me every morning, it sounded like you were feeling that, too.  When you-”

        “Nick, I love living with you.  I love waking up beside you.  I love having your clothes in my closet and I love having your cereal in my cabinet and I love having your CD’s in my stereo.  That scares the shit out of me,” AJ said, coming so close Nick could see the red highlights in his hair and the truth in his eyes.  “I don’t commit to things, Nick.  I don’t commit to anything.  I wouldn’t have committed to this group if I’d known it would last this long.  I’m not in anything for the long haul.  I’m in it for the experience.”  AJ’s hand lifted and then dropped without touching him.  “I’ve experienced you.  I want to be done with you.”

        Nick didn’t know what to say to that.  Nick couldn’t even think after that.  He stared at AJ, unable to believe he was this fucking in love with someone who was this fucking cold.  How - - fucking - - he-

        “But I love you,” AJ said.  His voice was soft, and his eyes, his eyes were so beautiful Nick wanted to be able to hate him.  “I love you, Nick, and I’ll never be done with you.  Your clothes are still in my closet.  Your cereal’s still in my cabinet.  Your CD’s are still in my stereo, and I want them there.  I can’t even listen to half of that shit but I want it there, and I want you there.”

        Nick didn’t, couldn’t…  “You…”  This wasn’t fucking happening.  “If you don’t quit jerking me around, I’m-”

        “I’m not jerking you around,” AJ said.  “I’m telling you-”

        “You’re telling me you’re in it for the experience, and you’ve already experienced me,” Nick said.  “That sounds like it’s over.”

        “Being with you is the most crazy, powerful experience I’ve ever had,” AJ said.  “And I’ve been through some crazy, powerful shit.  There’s so much to you, Nick, I’m never going to get enough of it.”

        “I’ll give you a damned experience.”  Damn it, what the hell was this?  “What are you saying, you want me back?  And yeah, that’s a direct question, too.”

        AJ took a deep breath.  “Yes,” he finally said.  “I want you back.  I’m sorry for everything I said.  And for how I acted.  I was freaking out, but it wasn’t about the car, and it wasn’t about you.”

        As long as AJ was trying to apologize…  “I’m sorry about the TV.”

        “It’s okay.  And don’t worry about the car, it’s in the shop.”

        Nick almost did a double-take.  AJ didn’t care about the TV?  AJ didn’t care about the car?  “Are you okay?”  AJ had been yelling and shouting and throwing shit, and now it was all fine?

        “I overreacted,” AJ said.  “I’m sorry.”

        When AJ was mad, AJ was mad; and when AJ was sorry, AJ was sorry, and Nick couldn’t take it anymore.  Oh, god, Nick had to hug him, had to touch him, didn’t want to let go.  “I’m sorry,” he said near AJ’s ear, knowing he was holding on too tightly but, judging from the way AJ was gripping him, figuring it was okay.

        “You’re good, you’re fine, you’re golden,” AJ said.  “It’s all me, I was trying to end it, I wanted to break it off and be free again.  I just can’t.  I can’t, Nick, I want you back.”

        Nick squeezed his eyes shut, trying to breathe.  “Okay.  Okay,” he said, almost whispering it, not sure where his voice was, not caring.

        “I want you to move in,” AJ said, holding him even tighter, hands gripping across his back.  “Really move in, everything, all of it, one house, our house.”

        “You don’t,” Nick said, afraid, hoping, denying, “you don’t want that.”  He wanted it, he knew he wanted it, but AJ wasn’t ready for that.

        “I do,” AJ said, his voice soft and rough.  “I do, Nick, don’t make me beg.”

        Nick was so happy he laughed, turning his face and kissing AJ’s cheek, AJ’s jaw, AJ’s mouth.  AJ opened for him, kissing him back passionately, hands cupping his face and then sliding back past his ears.  AJ’s thumbs rubbed inquisitively over the fuzz, and AJ’s kiss softened.  Nick ended the kiss, opening his eyes.  “What?”

        “I like this,” AJ said, looking at him.  “It’s different.  It’s hot.”  AJ kissed him again, tasting, exploring, hands rubbing, caressing.  “It feels so…sexy.”

        Nick loved the way AJ tasted right…there.  He stroked with his tongue, sliding his hands down over AJ’s hips.  “Can I drive?”

        AJ grinned.  “Any time you want.”

        “We have to go get Nick moved in,” AJ said, hooking his fingers in Nick’s back belt loop.  “You two have to come down soon and see the place.”

        “We’ve seen your house before, AJ,” Howie said.

        “I’m guessing it’ll look a little different once Nick’s put his mark on it,” AJ said.

        “Most things do,” Brian said, and hugged AJ.  Nick rolled his eyes.  “Have a safe flight.”

        “We will,” AJ said, giving Brian and Howie tight, one-armed hugs, keeping his other hand on Nick.

        “Bye,” Nick said, hugging Brian.  “I’ll call you.”  He hugged Howie.  “Thanks for letting me crash.”

        “Always a pleasure,” Howie said.

        “Seriously,” Nick said, looking from Howie to Brian to AJ, “do I look older?”

        AJ studied him, rubbing the top of his head.  “Not when you smile.”  One kiss, another kiss, slower, and AJ’s voice dropped to a low murmur, hand sliding down to his nape.  “I love it when you smile.”