Guilt, Desire, and Life with Jeff

Guilt, Desire, and Life with Jeff

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. It's also for Nick Carter Littrell Lachey, because you know he wants to read this one.

Wherein they have dirty clothes, they have old toothbrushes, and they discuss perversion.

Notice: It's a "Slice of Life." Better go read "Living" first.

From "Destiny" Part Three:

        "...I'm this close to trying to kiss you."
        "You know you can't."
        "I know."
        "It's too bad."
        "Why?"
        "I'm wearing a thong."
        Nick's jaw dropped. "You...you what?" he asked shakily.
        "It's not red. It's black. Sorry."
        "You...you're not. You're not."
        "I am."
        "Really?"
        "I bought it when I bought Drew's. You can ask him. Or."
        "Or?"
        "Or you could look for yourself."
        "Oh."
        Jeff picked up what remained of the ice and raised it to Nick's lips, let it slip into Nick's mouth, then licked the water from his own palm, licked his fingers. "Want to see?"
        "Hell yes."

From "Destiny" Part Four:
        "Drew?"
        "What?" Drew asked, a bit snappishly.
        "When you and Jeff went shopping...and he bought you a thong...did he get one, too?"
        "Yeah. I think it was black."
        Nick went very still.
        "Why are you talking to him about your underwear?" Nick asked.
        Jeff, since Nick was no longer feeding him, said, "He asked."
        "You didn't have to tell him!"
        "Did you see it on him?" Nick Carter asked Drew suddenly.
        "No," Drew said.
        Nick reached, carefully, and put his fingers on Jeff's shoulder.
        "Nick saw it," Jeff said. Nick stared at him. "When I put it on this morning."
        "And he let you out of the house?" Brian asked. Then Brian turned red and backed away a little. Drew almost smiled.
        "You saw?" Nick asked Nick, fingers sliding bit by bit to Jeff's clavicle.
        "Yes," Nick said.
        "He's wearing it? Right now?"
        "Yes."
        Nick's gaze dropped to Jeff's lap. "Right now?"
        "Right now," Jeff said, and put a grape into Nick's mouth. Nick bit down and the sweet juice burst over his tongue.

Also from "Destiny" Part Four:
        Jeff rang the doorbell. "Don't tell Nick I'm wearing the thong."
        "I can't believe you put that on again."
        "Second and last time ever. Tonight, it goes in the trash can."

From "Competition":
        Jeff stood. "I want to get home. Thanks for sharing Drew with Nick tonight."
        "You're leaving?" Nick asked. "Already? At least let the thong stay."
        "I have to go," Jeff said.
        "Do you let Nick see you in the thong?"
        "Yes."
        "Does he touch you in it?"
        "Yes."
        "Does he touch you in it touch you in it?"
        "Yes."

Nick rolled over. Not that Jeff had left him much room to do so. He wrapped an arm around Jeff's waist, wondering whether he wanted to go back to sleep.

He'd kissed Drew last night.

Drew had started it.

Drew had kissed him last night.

Last night had been...it had been good. It had been fun, familiar, reassuring. The two of them, hanging out. They were brothers. They were friends.

They'd kissed.

It was going to be one of those guilt-ridden mornings. Nick got out of bed and went to pee.

Why did they have to kiss? Why couldn't they just spend an evening together? Why did that always have to get in the way?

Had Drew been planning it all evening? Had it been a spur-of-the-moment kiss? Did Drew regret it? Did Brian and Nick know?

He had to tell Jeff.

Had it been good? Had he tasted like the hot dog he'd been eating?

Damn, it was early.

Day's schedule: workout, shower, breakfast, tell Jeff, call home, make a sacred personal vow never to kiss a blood relation again.

Especially on the mouth.

With tongue.

God, he'd Frenched his little brother.

"Timzt," Jeff asked.

"Early. Go back to sleep," he said.

Jeff's eyes opened on a narrow slit. "What're you doing up?"

"Nothing. Go back to sleep." Where were his shorts? "Did you do the laundry?"

"No."

Great. Typical. Nick glared at his dresser drawers. He searched around, hoping that clean clothes would materialize if he kept looking.

It didn't work.

He was not working out naked.

He had workout clothes. He had to wear workout clothes when he worked out.

Jeff, in this position, would either borrow his clothes, or wear non-workout clothes.

Nick was not Jeff. He respected the laws of the universe.

Couldn't Jeff have done the laundry last night, at least?

Oh, good, Nick. You run around town having an affair with your brother, while your husband stays home and folds your underwear.

Jeff hadn't been home, anyway. Jeff had been at Drew's. Entertaining Nick and Brian.

Nick looked at Jeff, sprawled half-naked over the bed, half-tangled in bedclothes.

He wondered what had happened last night.

He wondered what Nick had said to Jeff. He didn't like Nick. He didn't trust Nick. Nick wanted Jeff.

Jeff was his.

When had his personal life become this stupid?

And what was he supposed to wear?!

Jeff was asleep.

He considered dumping the dirty laundry on Jeff.

He could work out later. When Jeff had done the laundry.

He could try to find something half-decent from the hamper.

He could do the laundry himself.

He could go back to bed.

"Did he try to kiss you?"

Hazy, tired, "What?"

"Carter. Last night. Did he try to kiss you?"

"What do you think?"

Jeff could do the laundry.

He was taking a shower.

He'd wait until Jeff asked about last night. Then he'd tell Jeff. Straight out. Point blank. He'd kissed Drew.

Drew had started it.

He got out of the shower, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt. He went to the kitchen to see if he could find breakfast food.

He was finishing up when Jeff came in and sat at the table with him. Straight from bed. Nick's cock liked it. "Is there a good reason you're up this early?" Jeff asked.

"Go back to bed."

Jeff finished his orange juice. Without asking. Typical. "Let me guess. You're feeling guilt-wracked because something happened last night."

"I'm not-"

"Drew kissed you?"

"Last night was a big set-up, wasn't it?"

"Don't look at me. It was Nick's idea. Not that I didn't help."

Carter?

"Drew kissed you?" Jeff asked again.

"I kissed him back."

"You're not looking guilty enough. There must not've been groping." Jeff grinned at him. "Make me breakfast while I go start the laundry."

"You're a rotten human being."

"That's why you like me so much." Jeff kissed his cheek and left the kitchen.

Nick cleaned up his breakfast dishes. Then he started to make Jeff breakfast.

When Jeff came back to eat, Nick went to brush his teeth. When was the last time he'd changed toothbrushes? Months ago, from the looks of it. He looked in the medicine cabinet. Under the sink. "Jeff."

"What?"

"Do we have new toothbrushes?"

"Yeah."

Thanks. "Where?"

"Somewhere."

He went to check in the cramped, overfilled closet. It held an eclectic mixture of whatever they weren't using at the moment. Bathroom supplies, cleaning supplies, sports equipment, Jeff's junk - - and new toothbrushes. Eureka. Nick wedged the closet door shut again and ripped open the little box. He dropped it in the nearby bedroom wastebasket, then frowned. This was no way to do the laundry. "Jeff, you forgot-" He picked it up.

Stared.

Got lost, staring. Thinking.

"What?" Jeff called.

Nothing. He absently set his toothbrush in the bathroom, freeing his hands to give his full attention to... He held it up, turned it around, looked at it.

He rubbed his thumb over the soft, secret inside of the pouch.

He took a discreet sniff.

The sound of a footstep jerked him from his reverie. He tried to look casual as Jeff entered the bedroom.

"Do we have toothbrushes?" Jeff asked. "I'm going to the store later, I can... What?"

"What?"

Jeff was eyeing him with suspicion.

He tried to look innocent.

Jeff's gaze snagged on something. "What are you holding?"

"What?"

"What's in your hand?"

"Nothing."

"That's my G-string."

"It was in the trash."

"I know. Why did you take it out of the trash?"

"You want it in there?"

"I'm throwing it away."

"You are?"

"That's the point of putting it in the trash can, Nick." Jeff reached for it.

Nick pulled his hand back, not letting Jeff have it.

"Nick, give it to me. What? I'm not keeping it."

"Why not?"

"It's stupid, it's ugly, I'm never wearing it again, I'm getting rid of it."

"You can't throw it away."

"I'm not giving it to Goodwill." Jeff was looking at him again. "Why? What were you planning to do with it?"

"What? Nothing."

"You want to keep it?"

"No, I-"

"You can have it."

"I don't-"

"I gotta shave and go check on the laundry." Jeff went into the bathroom.

Nick hesitated.

Jeff wasn't looking.

Nick stepped back, towards his dresser.

Jeff wasn't looking.

Quietly, slowly, he slid open a drawer.

Jeff wasn't looking.

He jammed the G-string into the drawer, burying it beneath his jeans.

It wasn't that... It wasn't like... He wasn't going to do anything with it. He wasn't perverted. He just... He didn't want to throw it away.

Jeff didn't ask him about it.

He didn't get it out and fondle it. He didn't try it on. He just...looked at it for a second sometimes. When he was rooting through his drawers to get dressed, and he ran across it, he'd get flashes of heat and prickles of desire and little tingles of guilt.

He wondered if he had a thing for guilt. Either he liked to feel guilty, because acknowledging that he was a bad person was at least a step, even if he kept doing bad things. Or else, guilt turned him on. He hoped not. It was probably the first one. He wasn't going to throw away Jeff's G-string, and he wasn't going to stop wanting Drew, and he wasn't going to stop liking the way Brian looked. But if he felt guilty about those things, he could live with himself.

He wasn't a bad person.

He wasn't.

Besides, Jeff was his husband, so he was allowed to get turned on by Jeff's personal things. And it wasn't stealing, because Jeff had been about to throw it away. Anyway, Jeff had said that he could have it.

Did Jeff know that he had it?

Did Jeff...care that he had it?

Did Jeff think that he was weird?

"Do you think I'm weird?"

"No," Jeff said.

He waited until half-time. Then he procrastinated by getting more soda from the fridge. Then he said, "I hate when you do that."

"I know."

"You're going to cut your finger."

"I haven't once."

"You will."

"We have Band-Aids. What's wrong?"

"What?"

"Why would I think you're weird?"

"Oh. Nothing."

"Okay." Jeff flipped through the channels. "For clarification, did you mean weird, as in, goofy? As in-"

"Perverted."

Jeff snorted.

Nick turned red.

"Sorry. Do I think you're perverted?"

"Forget it."

"Why would I think you're perverted? The only perverted thing you do - - no, listen - - the only thing is, you like to, you know, in the shower. I don't know why you do that. For a while, I thought maybe you were...like it was personal time, and you were thinking about Drew or somebody. No, no, I get it now. You like to jerk off in the shower and think about me. I don't know why. But that's not perverted, that's just...it's something I don't get but it's okay. There's nothing wrong with it."

"It is... I am thinking about you."

"I know. I kind of like it."

He was turning red. Great. He took a drink and coughed.

"Why would I think you're perverted?"

"You don't."

"You thought I would."

He watched a beer commercial.

"This isn't about Drew. It sure better not be about being bi. Are you watching porn behind my back?"

No.

"Nick?"

He kept his eyes on the screen.

"Is this about the thong?"

He kept his eyes on the screen.

"Okay." Jeff changed channels some more.

Nick clenched his jaw and stared right into Jeff's eyes.

Jeff stared back at him, not giving an inch.

He tested his reserves of strength.

Jeff tried to exert pressure.

He didn't look away from Jeff's eyes.

Jeff looked determined.

He wondered if he could psych Jeff out. Probably not. Every time he tried, Jeff turned it back on him. He was easier to psych out than Jeff was. "Tired?"

"No. You?"

"No. You look tired."

"I should. I didn't get much sleep last night."

"You didn't?"

"Somebody kept me up all night groping me."

That wasn't fair. "I can't imagine why."

"I think he was zoned."

"I was not!"

"You were."

"I was not." He glared at Jeff.

"You should be tired, too. How many times did you come last night?"

"Twice, maybe."

"You are the worst liar."

"I was not zoned."

"Okay, Nicky, you weren't zoned."

"Shut up."

"It's too bad. Our sex life must be getting boring."

"Maybe you should be sexier."

"I'll try."

"Good."

"I think, tonight, I'll try on that G-string. You still have it?"

Nick stared in shock.

Jeff smirked. "I win." He let go and shook out his hand. "You suck at arm-wrestling, Lachey."

"Timmons-Lachey."

"Go get me the thong."

"What?"

"I want to try it on."

Jeff was standing by the bed, naked.

Nick handed him the thong.

Jeff turned it around. "Was it this small before?" He stepped into it, pulled it up, grimaced and adjusted himself. "This has to look more comical than sexy."

Nick licked his lips.

"Then again..." Jeff cleared his throat. "Nick. Nick."

Nick reached out and stroked Jeff's thigh. Naked. All of that naked skin, proud muscle, waiting to be touched.

"Nick."

He slid his finger beneath the little black strap.

"The floor's on fire."

He wanted to touch Jeff. Right there.

"Justin told me he's gay."

The bulge, right there, tucked and snug. Black material stretched over it. Jeff's cock, right there. The head, right there. His fingers traced its outline through the thong.

Jeff's breathing shook. "We're breaking up the band to become plumbers in Michigan."

He kissed Jeff.

Jeff's voice wasn't as steady as it had been. "Half-time's over."

He didn't care.

"There's no chance of me leaving this room for the next few hours, is there?" Jeff asked.

No.

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