Suicide Doors
Chapter One
By: Jondy Macmillan
Disclaimer: I don't own JONAS. If I did…well…-drools-
A/N: This story is full of slash (gayness) and incest (sibling lovin' in the horizontal position). If you don't like that, you really shouldn't be reading. Like…please. Stop right now. 'Cause I don't want to scar you; I'm already going to hell for writing the dang thing (among many, many other things), so I don't need to send someone in for years of therapy if they haven't already come over to the dark side on their own. It also has bad words and drinking. Consider yourself warned. Pairings will be joick (Gives me warm fuzzies just thinkin' it) and Nick PLUS Some Girl. A girl from the series- I hate making up my own. I'm just not sure which one yet.
Joe Lucas wanted a car with suicide doors.
He wanted to be like one of those boys on Entourage, with the drinking and the fucking, and the general don't-give-a-shit vibe. The way he figured, he deserved it. It was like, manifest destiny, dude.
He'd known since the minute he and his brothers stared down the JONAS trail that they would be rockstars.
Now that it had happened, of course he had expectations. Didn't every rockstar get buzzed in clubs with pretty girls hanging off each arm?
Yeah. Hell yeah.
Except, okay, there was a problem.
See, somewhere along the line, he'd promised to keep it real. Now that he was a high school senior, that promise was old news, shiny gift wrap around a brand spanking new present. Shiny gift wrap that needed to be discarded to reach his new dream of actually getting to enjoy the perks of stardom for a change.
He could get past his mom. That was easy. All he had to do was give her the biggest, roundest puppy dog eyes he could muster and she'd let him spend his nights on the town, no big. Or, if it came down to it, he could lie. He didn't like to lie, but not because of any moral compulsions. No, he didn't like to lie because despite his master-of-disguise status, the paparazzi were sneaky bastards and could catch him some serious shit.
Still, mom was manageable.
Dad was a total nonentity. He enjoyed living vicariously through his famous sons.
It came down to his brothers. Well, one brother, actually. Kevin was too busy chasing girls in that sweet, schoolboy way of his to notice that Joe wanted to go major league, and Frankie was too young to care.
Nick.
Nick was the problem.
Make that Problem with a capital P.
Joe wasn't sure when Nick had decided to take it upon himself to become protector and champion of Joe's virtue. The kid was so quiet, so full of gentle, ironic humor, that sometimes it seemed he was just part of the background.
Recently Nick had lost that invisibility cloak of his and it was driving Joe insane.
Well, Nick was of the opinion that Joe had been losing his head long before his baby brother's transformation, but that was a minor detail.
The thing about Nick playing guardian angel was that it happened to be Completely Obnoxious.
At first, before Joe realized that he wanted to live the superstar dream life, it was just little things. Like when Nick would force Joe to look both ways when he crossed the street, forgetting who exactly was older in this relationship. Or when Joe would try to talk to a girl and Nick would sidle up behind him, swinging an arm around Joe's shoulders awkwardly and murder all conversation where it stood. Mostly by bringing up Joe's table manners, or how long he spent in the bathroom; anything sure to gross the girl out.
Nick was excellent at retaining little facts for later blackmail. He'd just never been so hell bent on using the skill to kill Joe's social life in the past.
Joe did everything he could think of to deter Nick from butting into big brother's life. At first, he tried the easy route; talking. He gently told Nick that he was being a cock block and to get out the way. Not in those terms, of course; he didn't want to give little Nick a heart attack. Then, when that didn't make the kid back off, Joe tried having Kevin run interference. Well, Kevin had never been a good wingman, and that plan went kaput in point two seconds.
He even went so far as to try to find Nick a girlfriend. The best of them lasted a week and a half before Nick dismissed her as airheaded and frivolous. Joe was at his wit's end trying to think up new and interesting ways to keep Nick out of his private life.
When summer transitioned to autumn and Joe finally began his senior year, he started getting the ideas. These nagging ideas about how he should be out, partying, living it up. He'd be the first to admit it was Kevin who gave him cabin fever; Kevin, who had graduated that May, but couldn't go to college because it would interfere when they needed to go on tour. Kevin, who was virtually stuck at home twenty four seven, doing absolutely nothing with his life when he was a goddamned rock star.
Yeah. Joe wasn't going to let that happen to him. No way would he rot away in a firehouse in frickin' New Jersey when he could be out there, seeing the world. Seeing all those adoring fans WANT him.
His mom said wanderlust was a common affliction for teenaged Jerseyites. She might have been right, 'cause the rest of Kevin's graduating class had gotten the hell out of dodge.
See, Joe argued with his inner good boy. Everyone wanted to leave. New Yorkers came down on weekends in the summer and made jokes about the Garden State being a trash heap. Why are New Yorkers so depressed, they asked?
Because New Jersey's the light at the end of the tunnel. Badabing!
Jersey girls aren't trash. Trash gets picked up!
Fucking New Yorkers.
Still, at least they got to see the world, and not just on tour. In the City there were night clubs and electric lights and neon signs for bars that you never got IDed in. It was like paradise.
It was the one place Joe wasn't allowed to go. He tried, once, of course. He got in the car he'd bought with his own hard earned cash and driven to the train station. He donned a baseball hat and a hoodie on top of that, trying to be all inconspicuous as he made his way on the NJTransit train. He barely got to step foot in Penn Station before his stalker of a baby brother met him, The Big Man in tow like a good, Nick-fearing bodyguard should be.
"What are you doing here?" Joe demanded.
"Making sure you don't get killed," Nick raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, and damn if he didn't look scarier than The Big Man in all his bouncer-esque glory.
"I can take care of myself," Joe emphasized all the words slow and careful, because maybe Nick had just hit his head real bad and that was why he was having such a hard time with this understanding thing.
Nick just shook his head and pulled him right back onto a train. So much for that theory.
Finally, a month into school when all the leaves were changing, Joe decided he'd had it. He was the big brother. He wanted to do…well, what he wanted to do. Nick Lucas wasn't going to stop him from enjoying life. No way.
It was that night, watching TV with his legs stretched over Nick's lap that Joe formulated a new plan. After all, up until now, he hadn't realized how dire the situation was.
Up 'til now he hadn't seen Kevin in the kitchen, being forced by mom to make some kind of soufflé in a ruffled pink apron for lack of better things to do.
Joe shifted, and Nick's arms weighted down his legs as he found a comfier position sprawled across the couch. He watched his little brother's eyes, following the flickering nonsense on the TV screen. Hmm.
Maybe he'd gone the wrong way about that whole girlfriend thing. Maybe he just had to find the right kind of girl.
A/N: Because I know someone will ask, suicide doors are the kind in the back that open…well, backwards. They're called suicide doors because while driving, the wind could force them open. Please review, because then I'll love you forever and ever, and maybe update with the next (longer) chapter. Plus you'll soothe my neurosis about posting outside my usual fandom.