"Home Alone"

Home Alone, a "Slice of Life"

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Nick Lachey/Jeff Timmons

Disclaimer: The young men who comprise 98 Degrees 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.

Wherein: Jeff gets a call from Nick. And from Nick. And from Nick.

Notice: A short story set in the "Living" series, post-"Destiny."

There was a difference between waking up alone and waking up alone. Usually, when Jeff wakened alone, Nick was in the shower or making breakfast or on the phone. Jeff wasn't fully alone, because Nick was within easy reach, and Jeff could talk to him, kiss him, look at him, at least hear him splashing in the bathroom. Jeff wasn't alone because he knew that Nick was nearby.

Right now, Jeff was alone. He woke alone. He slept alone. He felt alone. He was the only one in the apartment. There was no one to sleep with, eat with, work out with, watch TV with, talk with, fight with, laugh with...

He was used to having Nick around. Nick had been underfoot for years, since they'd started 98 Degrees. Nick was always...there. Listening to him, talking to him, laughing with him, on occasion laughing at him. They'd shared so many experiences that it was a revelation to have an experience Nick didn't share. They were separate people, and they did lead their own lives, but there was a sense of interdependence.

It almost scared Jeff, to realize it. Interdependence. He depended on Nick. He needed Nick. Of course he loved Nick, but it wasn't like he couldn't go off on his own and live without Nick. Except that it was like that. It really was.

And Nick depended on him. Nick needed him. Now that much, he'd known. Nick had a big heart, and it beat for Jeff. Sap.

But Nick did love him, and let him feel it. Let him know it. He'd be loading the dishwasher and he'd look around for more dirty glasses and he'd see Nick standing there, looking at him. Wanting him. Admiring him. One look, blue eyes, it shouldn't mean anything, it shouldn't even break his stride, but the way Nick looked at him, it changed everything. He played it cool, he was confident, let Nick look, let Nick stare, he was busy doing his own thing, he'd pay Nick some attention when he was ready to do so. But beneath Jeff's cool confidence, his chest was tight and his balls were heavy and his heart was racing and he wanted to turn around and watch Nick, look at Nick looking at him, see the love and desire in Nick's eyes.

It was two weeks. Two weeks. Nick would come back, and they'd fuss over the laundry, and they'd have the same old arguments about cooking versus eating out versus ordering in, and they'd work out together, and he'd forget to clean out the sink after he'd shaved, and they'd fuck like animals.

He missed Nick, his friend. He missed Nick, his partner. He missed Nick, his lover. God, he missed his lover. It would have been a whole lot more bearable if Nick were gone and he could still get laid.

But Nick was gone, and had taken all of Jeff's favorite body parts. Jeff couldn't enjoy the wonder that was Nick's mouth, couldn't caress Nick's thighs, couldn't squeeze Nick's biceps, couldn't kiss Nick's shoulders, couldn't fondle Nick's balls. Couldn't fuck Nick's ass, or even touch it. Couldn't, couldn't, god, Jeff wanted Nick's cock. Just to play with, at least.

He tried to make masturbation fun. Not that getting off wasn't fun. But he tried not to think of himself as lonely and pathetic. Instead, he imagined that Nick might be watching. That Nick would get hot watching. That Nick would like it if he masturbated. Because, face it, Nick liked his cock, liked getting him off, and was innocently kinky enough to be turned on by the idea, by the sight, of him pleasuring himself.

So, he jacked off. Not every night. Maybe every other night. It was just that, it was, it was hard to face that bed alone. To know that Nick wasn't coming home to join him, not that night. So sometimes he fell asleep on the sofa, watching TV, out in the living room. It wasn't as fun to watch TV alone as it was to watch it with Nick, but he wasn't so far gone he couldn't do anything but sit in bed crying all day. He missed Nick, yeah, but he knew that Nick was coming back, so he was okay.

Justin spent time with him. He hung out with Drew. He couldn't go over to Drew's house, because he and Nick Carter (Littrell Lachey) weren't allowed to see each other. Not during Nick's two-week absence. Which was ridiculous, but Jeff humored his Nick, and Brian and Drew were keeping a careful watch on their Nick.

Everything was going okay. The day was okay. Justin had come over for breakfast. Joey wanted to take him clubbing later, and he figured it would be fun. Waking up alone in bed sucked. Working out alone sucked, but Drew couldn't work out with him every day during Nick's absence, and Justin wasn't about to do it. And without Nick around to be good to it, his cock was an ugly lump of meat. He didn't even want to masturbate. His cock sucked. His bed sucked, because it wasn't their bed right now, it was his bed.

Nick had invited him to go along, but he'd said, no, he'd be cool at home. He'd hang out, maybe get some writing done, it was only two weeks, no big deal. No deal whatsoever. He'd kissed Nick good-bye, blithely went about his day, tra la la la la, and then...

...then he'd looked up and realized that he'd been sitting there flipping channels for way too long. Because something was wrong. He felt dissatisfied. Nothing suited him. He didn't want to do anything, but doing nothing was driving him nuts.

Which was when he realized that he was missing Nick.

He'd known that it would be different without Nick. That yeah, it wouldn't be the same sleeping alone, that he'd have the apartment to himself, that sort of thing. But he was an adult, he was a grown man, two weeks was nothing. He hadn't expected to miss Nick until the second week, really.

He was full of crap.

He wanted to go back and kiss Nick good-bye one more time. Do it again. Linger this time.

Nick was gone and the bed sucked and sleeping alone sucked and eating alone sucked and always being alone sucked and trying to pretend that he didn't miss Nick sucked and knowing that Justin knew he missed Nick anyway despite the pretending sucked and the apartment sucked and Jeff had a bad case of cabin fever but didn't have anywhere else to go. And now-

"Shit!" Coke poured across the coffee table and onto the floor. He had nothing on hand to stem the flow. There wasn't, but, damn it, damn it! Jeff whipped his shirt off over his head and tried to stop the waterfall.

He was there, half-dressed, on his knees in a puddle of soda on the carpet Nick had insisted they have installed, when the phone rang. The phone was one of the things he'd rescued from death by Coke.

He snapped a bit when he answered. "Hello."

"Hey. What's wrong?"

Jeff stopped breathing for the space of a second. When he spoke again, his voice was thick. "Nothing. Spilled my Coke." He cleared his throat.

"Not on the-"

"No, not on the carpet," Jeff said, rolling his eyes. He scrubbed a bit harder at the wet spot. "How are you doing?"

"Pretty good. How's it going?" Nick asked.

"Drew came over," Jeff said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Jeff tried not to smirk.

"What'd you guys do?"

"Worked out together."

Silence from Nick's end.

Smirk on Jeff's end.

"You know I trust you," Nick said.

"I know." Jeff smiled. It was true. "I like to play with you anyway."

"I trust you no matter what. I trust Drew, too."

"Yeah, because you should."

"I don't trust Carter."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't. Is he keeping his distance?"

"Haven't seen him or spoken to him once since you left. You're juvenile."

"He's horny."

"You're horny."

"Not all of the time."

"How about right now? Are you horny right now?"

"Yeah."

Jeff laughed. "What's wrong? The Nick I know would not admit to that. Especially not over the phone."

"It's good to hear from you."

Translation: I miss you. "Yeah." Translation: I miss you, too. Jeff coughed. He tried to remember what he and Nick normally talked about.

"I have to go," Nick said.

"Okay."

"I'll call later."

"Sure."

"Okay."

"Bye," Jeff said. Shit. "Nick."

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Nick was blushing. Jeff could hear it. "I love you," Nick said.

"Bye."

Jeff hung up the phone. Oh, shit. The carpet!

It was amazing, the stain-fighting, disinfecting, ultra-cleansing array they had on hand. After trying a little bit of this, a spray of that, a sprinkle here, a spritz there, with some foaming action just in case, Jeff had the carpet as good as new. Nick would never know. Jeff stuffed his shirt, which had given its life for the cause, into the dirty laundry hamper and found something else to wear.

The phone rang.

"This is Jeff."

"I don't have much time. Are you alone?"

Jeff smiled. "Hi, Nick."

"Hi, Jeff."

"Where are your keepers?"

"Drew's out and Brian's downstairs. What are you wearing?"

"Nothing. Nick called."

"Your Nick? What'd he say?"

"He made sure you were nowhere near me."

"I'm nowhere near you. We're miles apart. I can't even see you from here. He called? Did you have phone sex?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"We don't do that."

"Do you want to try it with me? I can teach you how."

"No, thank you."

"I'm very good."

"I know you are."

"You do?"

"Drew and I travel on the same tour bus."

Nick laughed. "You can tell when we're having phone sex?"

"When he starts to moan and says, 'Oh, Nick,' a lot, that gives it away."

"Do you miss Nick?"

Jeff smiled. "Yeah. A little."

"If you miss Nick, you can borrow me. I'm a Nick. I'm taller than you and I have blue eyes and I'm really fuckable. You'll never notice the difference."

These conversations only occurred with this Nick. "You think Nick's fuckable?"

"Very. Drew is, too."

Jeff had to agree.

"Brian's only that kind of fuckable when he's a warm, friendly pixie. I don't think you're ever fuckable, not like that. Not like they are. I bet I'm fuckable. Do you think I'm fuckable?"

Jeff knew that he should not answer that question. Luck was with him; he didn't have to. He heard Nick gasp and was disconnected in seconds. Brian must have made an appearance. Smiling, Jeff hung up the phone.

He went clubbing with Joey that night. Revisiting his single days. He hadn't been single in a long time. He remembered how it went, though.

It could be a lot of fun, not knowing, not being sure. Trying to pick people up, being picked up. Trying to connect with a specific person, trying to look interested and available to that person while avoiding looking interested and available to everyone else.

He'd been pretty good at it. He'd been pretty damned good at it when he was only Jeff Timmons, before he was part of 98 Degrees. Being in the group had let him get soft, because once he was recognized, he didn't have to do very much work to pick up girls.

Of course, he'd never really... He'd liked the girls, because he liked people in general. But he was gay. Except he hadn't known that, then. Or had he? Had he not wanted to have sex with women, so he'd used Cockzilla as an excuse? Because maybe it was easier, or had been then, to say that of course he wanted to be with women, wanted to have sex with them, but he couldn't, for their sake. It wasn't fair to force his size and strength and stamina on someone who didn't realize what she was in for.

Had all of that been an excuse to avoid women? Had he been repressing his sexuality yet at the same time...

It didn't matter. He was gay, and he had Nick, and he could flirt with anybody he liked, because he wasn't getting laid tonight regardless.

He started off flirting with women. It was easy, and it was familiar, and there was no chance it was going anywhere. He tried to keep up with Joey, which kept things even more interesting.

Jeff wasn't used to drinking much. Nick had picked up some ideas about the purity of the body. Okay, Nick ate junk food and crap all of the time, but he sure as hell worked out enough to make up for it. Anyway, he almost never drank anymore. Since there was nothing to drink in their apartment, Jeff didn't drink much anymore, either.

So Jeff was flirting, dancing, having a grand old time. When Joey bought the table a round, he knocked back his. They took a few of their new female friends with them to a different club. At that club, they made even more friends. And had a few more drinks. Jeff figured he'd get buzzed just enough to make sure he had fun, just enough so that he could go home and fall asleep without missing Nick.

It wasn't that he was so forlorn and depressed and lonely he had to get drunk over Nick. It was just that he was sick of getting in bed and spending a few seconds cold and alone, realizing that Nick wouldn't be joining him.

Jeff was strong. Strong in body, strong in himself. What he and Nick shared was even stronger, because it came from a whole new strength born of their combined love. Nick would be home soon. He could sleep alone. He could hang out on his own.

It was just that his life had become a partnership. Suddenly he was alone again. It wouldn't be for long, it wouldn't be forever. But it sucked.

It sucked to realize that he wasn't as strong alone as he'd thought. It sucked to realize that he couldn't go back to his carefree single days.

He'd taken Nick for granted.

He'd taken his own independence for granted.

He wasn't independent. He was in a partnership. Nick was his partner, and he was Nick's. He could handle life on his own, if he had to. But he didn't want to.

He'd always known himself. Jeff knew Jeff. That was a large part of why he was confident. He knew himself, knew his limits, knew his strengths. He'd thought he had himself all mapped out and indexed.

But he'd been wrong.

Of course he loved Nick, of course he wanted to spend his life with Nick, etc., etc. That was why they were connected and committed. But, if he needed to, he could stand on his own. He was Jeff. He wanted Nick, he was in love with Nick, but...

No buts.

It was scary. It was surprising, even. He was in love with Nick, he was committed for life, but somewhere secret inside himself he'd always harbored the small thought that he didn't need Nick. Not to survive. Nick was a luxury item. Nick was the gorgeous, sexy, talented, big-hearted love of his life. But Nick wasn't his life itself.

Except maybe Nick was.

God, he'd been stupid. Stupid, stupid! To think that he only needed Nick to a point. To think that their love was finite. To think that it was within the realm of possibility for him to separate his heart from Nick's, his life from Nick's. The arrogance! The blindness.

Somewhere between the third club and the fifth drink, Jeff figured out all of the above. And suddenly, he felt much better about Nick's absence. Not that he was happy that Nick was gone. Just...he was okay with Nick not being there. He was going to be okay sleeping alone that night. He didn't have that dissatisfied, pissed-at-himself, itchy feeling anymore. He was cool again. He was good. He was confident. He was Jeff.

Which was when some guy tried to pick him up.

On the one hand, Jeff was in a straight club, wearing a wedding ring.

On the other hand, anyone who watched "Entertainment Tonight" knew who Jeff was, and that he was gay. It wouldn't have been that much of a huge public deal, except for the gay marriage epidemic in the little boy band world, and except for Heidelberg.

At any rate, some guy tried to hit on Jeff. Jeff wasn't interested in going home with the guy, but Jeff was a social person. They had a few drinks together, and they even danced a little.

Then the guy asked Jeff to go home with him.

Jeff said, no, that was okay, he was there with a friend.

Yeah, but if that was Jeff's friend (the guy pointed to Joey), he probably could find his own way home.

Jeff had to admit that Joey probably could find a pretty young thing to get him a cab. But he had his own way home, anyway.

Was Jeff sure?

Yeah, Jeff was sure.

The guy tried to touch Jeff.

Jeff very politely refused to be touched.

Now, Jeff was used to people coming on to him. And he didn't mind flirting. But there was innocuous social flirting where everyone involved knew it wouldn't go anywhere. And there was flirting with Nick Carter (Littrell Lachey), which was always fun because it was very tempting, but Nick always understood when Jeff said no. Because, face it, they both knew their limits. But this guy, he wasn't taking no for an answer. And Jeff had no intention of saying yes. No matter what.

Jeff could handle himself. It wasn't like he was going to cause a public scene, and it definitely wasn't like he was going to start throwing punches, because he didn't want to end up in the pages of People magazine. But his confidence, not to mention his bulk, usually spoke for themselves.

Except this guy was getting to be a real jerk.

Jeff walked away. He wasn't going to waste his time.

The guy grabbed his arm.

Jeff jerked free, giving the guy a look: I know you didn't just touch me without my permission. Hey, a little more practice, and he could be a Backstreet Boy.

The guy did not get the message.

"Let me see some ID," Jeff said. The guy wasn't listening, so he said it again.

Joey was on his way. He didn't bust up the scene, because he knew Jeff could handle it. But he wanted to be nearby just in case. Jeff appreciated it.

"Let me see your ID," Jeff said.

The guy handed over his wallet.

Jeff flipped through it. "Driver's license, VISA, ATM card, Discover, library card... Okay." He pushed the wallet into the guy's chest. "Not one thing in here says that your name is Nick Lachey. Make that, Nick Timmons-Lachey."

The guy's hand came up to the wallet and Jeff's hand; Jeff pulled back before the guy could make contact, and the wallet hit the floor.

"We can talk, we can be civil to each other, but only one man has the privilege of being my lover. And he isn't you."

"Privilege," the guy repeated. He was pissed off now, mostly because they were drawing an audience.

"Privilege," Jeff said. It was his privilege to be Nick's lover, as well, even more so, but he wasn't going to share that information with this jerk.

Jeff left the club, then, with Joey and Joey's new female friend. Jeff went home, showered off sweat and the smell of the club, brushed his teeth, drank some water, and went to bed.

He'd better not tell Nick about the idiot in the club.

He wondered if people were trying to pick up Nick.

He wondered why he was wondering. Of course people were trying to pick up Nick. Poor Nick.

Nick really was fuckable. It was true.

Jeff grinned. He was a very lucky man.

He wanted to kiss Nick.

He really, really wanted to kiss Nick.

Jeff sighed and rolled over.

At least the carpet was clean.

He could really use a blow job.

He stopped tracing his scars. Nick hated it when he did that.

This was boring. Maybe he'd see what was on TV.

The phone. Nobody called at this time of night. He sat up and found the phone. "This is Jeff."

"Did I wake you up?"

"Not really. What's up? Hey, what are you doing awake?"

"I was talking to Justin. He said you were, uh, going out with Joey, and I just wanted to, uh..."

"You're checking up on me." Jeff wanted to laugh.

"I'm not - - you were out with Joey. Who knows what could be happening to you."

"Joey's not that bad. I had a good time. And now I'm home, tucked safe in my little bed."

"Never mind. Go back to sleep."

"I'm going to be glad to see you again. When you come home."

Nick was blushing. Jeff could hear it. "Yeah. Me, too. Uh... Jeff."

"Still here. What?"

"I miss you."

Jeff smiled. "You're very cute. I miss you, too."

"Shut up." Now Nick was embarrassed.

"Hey, before you go. There's something I wanted to tell you."

"What?"

"A couple of things."

"What?"

"I'm in love with you and I can't imagine not being with you." A moment of silence. Jeff let himself feel his love for Nick. "Second, Nick, I am so horny. When you come home, you're coming straight to bed."

Nick laughed.

"I mean it. I'm already planning what to do to you, in what order."

"Don't tell me," Nick said quickly.

"Why? Are you scared?"

"I still have to make it through another whole week here. If you start telling me stuff, I'll be on my way home."

"That's not a bad thing."

"Jeff."

"Okay. I'll just start stocking up on lube over here."

"We have some."

"Not enough."

"Are you..."

"What?" Silence from Nick's end. Jeff could picture him trying to say something without embarrassing himself. Jeff waited. Nick wasn't saying anything. "What?"

"Never mind."

So very fuckable. "What?"

"Nothing."

Yeah, Jeff was in love. "Okay. Call me later."

"I will."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Jeff hung up, set down the phone, and settled down in the bed again.

The phone rang.

Jeff picked it up. "Now, who could this be?" he asked.

"Shut up."

"Hit me."

"I'm in love with you, too."

"You didn't have to call me back to say it."

"Stop gloating."

"I'm not gloating!"

Nick hung up on him.

Jeff grinned and put down the phone. He rolled over and closed his eyes. He blew the air a kiss and went to sleep.

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Slices of Life"
"Living"
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