Copyright November 3, 2000 by Matthew Haldeman-Time

Rating: R for male-male sex stuff

Pairing: Brian Littrell/Nick Carter

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 Ewan McGregor, the Savage Garden slashers, and the people who supported me on Bonnie's BSB slash list.

Wherein Brian's not okay, Nick's not healthy, and it's not that simple.

Notice: This story is the eleventh in a series.

Schitzo

        Brian spent the majority of the next two days with Kevin.  AJ was spending time with Howie.  Nick worried and hoped and felt guilty and thought about that sudden, deep, hot, wet, pornographic kiss.

        Then he was in bed trying to sleep, exhausted from the day but horny but feeling too weird and guilty to jerk off, lying there watching the darkness.  There was a knock at the door, and he knew that it was Brian.  He got up and walked over to the door, unlocked it, opened it.  The room was dark but the hallway was lit, and Brian walked in so he locked the door again.  Half turned away from him, definitely not looking at him, Brian said, "Can I sleep here?"

        "Yeah," he said.  He got back into the bed, and after a pause Brian climbed in too, moving right into his arms, wrapped around him.  Resting his chin on the top of Brian's head, holding Brian close, Nick felt Brian's cock go from completely uninterested to overexcited in one second or less.  It was digging into his hip, so he shifted slightly, and then his own cock was trying to make friends with it.  He wanted desperately to do something about it, get his hand down there, rub against Brian, get naked, something.  But Brian had said "Can I sleep here," not "Can I get molested here," so he decided to enjoy the precious and significant event that was happening: Brian, coming to his bed, getting a hard-on, right there in his arms.  He'd never spent a better night.  Dreams really did come true.

        Brian came to him for the next three nights, after he'd gone to bed, monosyllabic and dressed in boxers and T-shirt.  They slept so wrapped up together that whenever they separated in the morning he felt bereft, like half of him was just gone suddenly.  And maybe it was.

        Then they started to spend time together outside of Nick's bed.  After a week they were back to normal, hanging out together like they always had, talking and joking and touching, too.  Brian still shared his bed, but they started to talk in bed.  It was a strange combination of physical intensity and their deep yet casual friendship, where one minute they were climbing into bed talking about the fan who'd fainted at the meet-and-greet, and seconds later they were pressed tightly together and their cocks were so hard they were leaking through each other's boxers.

        Then Brian started to show up in his room right away, with luggage.  And in the morning Brian would stay in his room to shower and dress.

        And then he stepped out of the shower and Brian was right there, sitting on the sink counter, watching him.  He wrapped a towel around himself, but Brian reached out and tugged it free, letting it fall.  He was nervous and even a little frightened, but that wasn't enough to keep him from getting hard.  He just stood there, waiting, while Brian looked over his body.  Then he looked at Brian, too, because Brian was always worth looking at, even clothed.  And he realized that Brian looked even more scared than he felt.  Oddly, that was reassuring.  So he said, "Can I help you with something?"

        Brian smiled, apparently reassured, too.  "No thanks.  I'm just looking."

        "You okay?"

        "No," Brian confessed.

        "You know...we're friends.  No matter what."

        "What if it doesn't work that way?"

        "It will.  I don't care how badly you hurt me, we're still friends."

        "That doesn't make sense."

        "It makes sense.  I don't think it's healthy, but that's too bad."

        "I don't want to hurt you.  I just don't know what I do want."

        "Do you want me?"

        "It's not that simple."

        "That means yes."

        "There's a lot more here than just hormones."

        "Do you love me?"

        "You know I do."

        "Are you in love with me?"

        "Yeah.  It's like...our friendship runs so deep it doesn't end."

        "Yeah."  He ran his fingers through Brian's hair.  Brian kissed him, just for a moment, sweet and soft and light and far too brief.  "Can I get dressed or do you want me naked some more?"

        "I'm sorry if I've been weird lately."

        "It's okay."

        "I've been sort of out of it.  There's been a lot on my mind.  But even while I was flipping out and confused, I couldn't stay away from you.  Maybe I should have."

        "There's never a time when you should stay away from me.  Stay close to me."

        "I don't think that we should sleep together anymore."

        "What did I just say?"

        "Nick, come on.  It's not exactly appropriate."

        "Why not?"

        "It's too much."

        "You're scared."

        "Aren't you?"

        "I've been waiting for you to let me lick your cock for seven years."

        "You have not."

        "I have."

        "You have not."

        "I have so."

        "Liar."

        "Jerk."

        Brian kissed him and kissed him and played with his nipples and during a split-second gasp for breath he definitely heard, "I want to fuck you so-" and he wondered, "so what?"  So much?  So hard?  So...so what?  Brian was still on the counter, but he had one arm around Brian's waist pulling Brian against him, and he knew that he was leaking pre-cum on Brian's sweater, and Brian's hand ventured down over his ass, and then Brian was pushing him away and muttering something about "sorry" and "later" and then he was alone, naked, hard, breathless, suddenly cold.

        Things were weird all day, but by the time of the concert Nick was feeling better.  Then after the concert, Nick waited for Brian in his room, but Brian never showed, so he crossed the hall to Brian's room.

        Brian opened the door.  "Nick."

        "Let me in."  He walked past Brian and headed straight for the bed, dropping his key on the table.

        "Nick-"

        He stripped out of his T-shirt and boxers and crawled into the bed, snuggling in beneath the covers, seeking Brian's warm spot.

        "Nick."

        "C'mere.  It's cosy."

        "Come on.  You know-"

        "Suit yourself.  Good night."  He really was cosy, and time passed, and he was almost asleep when he felt Brian getting in beside him.  Brian was still in shorts and T-shirt, and he got all cuddly in Brian's arms, and he fell asleep there.