Date: Mon, 04 Dec 2000 19:33:48 -0500
From: Scotty T <thepoetboy@hotmail.com>
Subject: Beneath It All 9

This is fiction, and says nothing about the real Backstreet Boys, except
that they're talented guys and I enjoy their music.

How many parts are left?  I just don't know anymore. :) I've already
started work on the story that will appear after this one, finishing off my
Nifty work forever, so enjoy me while I last. :)

Thanks go out to DLS who helped with the BIA premise and who proofreads
each part before it gets posted.  Thanks go out to Rachel and CJ, my
favourite Nifty ladies, and to the others who I chat with from day to day.

And an announcement: I'm all caught up on email!  This means you're more
likely to get a reply within a sane amount of time since I don't have a few
hundred others to write before I get to yours. :) So email me if you find
yourself wanting to at thepoetboy@hotmail.com

And now, on with the show.

***

Part 9

Nick stared up at the sky, warm in the arms that were wrapped around him.
Secure against the chest he was leaning back on.  Content in the moment,
for once not thinking about what might come next, and what people would be
saying about it.

Every few minutes the wind would carry some cold through the ribs of the
old barn, past the tired grey wood, but it would pass as quickly as it
came, and Nick would forget it had even existed.

"One wish, Johnny, anything you want.  What would it be?"  Nick turned his
head to feel the warmth of John's chest on the side of his face.

"Absolutely anything?"

Nick nodded, closing his eyes and feeling the warmth of another body, but
then he stopped.  "But no wishing for more wishes."

"I'd wish for less wishes."

Nick grinned.  "You'd be wasting a perfectly good wish."

"What is there I need?  I like things the way they are right now."  John
leaned his head back against the post and ran his fingers through Nick's
soft blond hair again.

"Not even for sight?"

"No.  I do well enough without it."

"Not even to get a look at me?"

Nick opened his eyes and turned them upward to get a look into the older
man's face, studying the lines of John's smile.

"I've already seen you."

Nick's hand squeezed John's calf.  "Really?"

"You've got soft hair, smooth skin.  Your lips are more narrow and shaped
than they are long and flat.  You've got a good heart, and strong hands."
John's fingers slipped through Nick's hair, light in their movement, there
more for the softness of the caress than anything else.  John's voice
displayed as much of a smile as his face.  "You're the most beautiful
person I've ever met."

Nick grinned and leaned forward, pulling himself out of John's arms and
turning over until he was crouched between John's legs and almost nose to
nose with him.

"Can you say that again?" Nick asked, with a devilish grin.

"Any time you want to hear it."  John opened his eyes, the milkiness
staring into Nick's eyes.

Nick didn't wait to hear it repeated.  He tilted his head and pressed his
lips to John's.  For his part, John let his smile slip away into the kiss,
and brought his hands up to eventually find Nick's hips.  He felt the hip
bones pressing through the coarse material of Nick's pants, but didn't
think twice about it.

Each time one completed a kiss, the other had another one prepared to stand
in its place.  At first there were pauses, as Nick's eyes opened to take in
the face below him, and as John pulled the sensation into his mind and
savoured it, but with each kiss less of a pause was permitted, and more
energy was put into the kisses to come.

Nick's tongue slipped between John's lips and explored like it had with . .
.

No. . .

Not like it'd ever done before, with anyone.

Never before.

But as the afternoon progressed, the wind became more insistent, and the
loose jackets they wore held back less of the cold.  Eventually the well of
kisses became dry, and Nick found himself just lying in those arms, pulling
the warmth of someone else into himself.

"We should go back," John said softly.  "They'd never forgive me if I got
you sick out here."

Nick nodded into John's shoulder.  "Yeah, at least Kevin'll be gone by
now."

John let out a sharp whistle and a responding bark came from somewhere.  A
crashing sound began and started getting closer as Denny pushed her way
through the tall, dry grass towards them.

"And eat something while we walk, just so I can say I fed you well, okay?"

Nick sat up, and swiped at his chest, pushing away the bits of debris that
had gathered.  "Promise.  They'll have nothing on you."

"Good, otherwise they won't let me take you out again tomorrow."

Nick smirked.  "And we wouldn't want that."

John kept on hand on the post as he climbed to his feet.  "The bag?"

Nick picked it up from where they'd discarded it, and reached in.  "Got it.
Let's go."

***

Denny was looking ready to collapse by the time they got back to the house.
It was starting to get dark, and clouds were pushing in from the north.
The falling sun cast a brilliant peach colour against the sky, making a
statement no-one would forget before she had the chance to rise again.

Howie was on the front porch swing with a cup of coffee as they approached,
and Denny sniffed at his legs briefly before deciding she was too tired to
find somewhere else and lowered herself the ground.

"Hey, John.  You two have fun?"

John's hand found the railing, which lead his feet to the steps.  "You've
never seen a fall afternoon until you've seen one at the old barn."  He
pulled open the screen door.  "But then again, I've never seen one at all."
He smiled and held the door open, waiting for Nick.

"I think Michael wanted to see you alone for a few minutes," Howie said,
raising his mug to his lips.  Steam was rising out of it into the cool air.
"I'll keep Nicky company for you."

John raised an eyebrow, looking a couple of feet to Nick's left.

"Go on," Nick said, "I'll be out here waiting."

John nodded and disappeared into the house.

Howie took a deep sip before lowering the mug back to his lap.  "Looks like
you brought half the barn back with you," he said, tilting his head towards
Nick.

Nick wiped at his shirt a few more times, and smiled.  "But of course we
won't say anything about it."

Howie grinned.  "Of course."

Nick lowered himself to the top of the steps, leaning against the railing.
"Any word from Kevin and Brian?"

"Nope.  Expecting anything?"

Nick hugged his arms around himself, his fingers running up and down along
his ribs.  "Yeah, it was too easy."

"You expected a punishment?  Some long lecture?"  Howie shook his head.
"This isn't something Kevin can yell out of you, Nicky."  He turned his
head towards the setting sun.  "Don't do that."

Raising his head, Nick cocked an eyebrow.  "What?"

"That thing with your hands."

Nick's head fell and his hands stopped moving.  "Sorry."

"I still can't figure out how none of us noticed, you know?  I mean, if
there's anything we do, it's spend time together.  On buses, planes,
dressing rooms.
  We live three quarters of our lives together."

"It's not like I was out to be obvious."

"But still."  Howie propped a long lock of hair up behind his ear.  "It's
not like I'm the least observant person in the world.  If Kevin suddenly
got three inches shorter, I'd like to think I'd notice."

Nick shrugged his shoulders.

"And there's nothing I can ever say to apologize for that," Howie
continued, still staring into the distance.  "I'll always feel that I let
you down."

"You didn't let me down."

"I wasn't paying you enough attention."

Nick rubbed his chin, feeling the prickling of stubble.  "You were the one
who kept AJ at bay.  I've always been thankful for that."

Howie took another sip of coffee, cupping his hands around the warmth of
the mug.  "He's not that bad of a guy, you know."

Nodding, Nick stretched out his legs.  "I know."

"And he didn't know what he was doing."

"I don't blame him for anything."

Howie nodded.  "You might want to tell him that, because he's thinking
pretty differently."

The sun finally disappeared behind the clouds, cutting the sunset off
before it had completed.

"I will."

***

John made his way into the kitchen and set the bag down on the counter.
He'd already pulled his coat off and set it on the peg in the hall, and he
rubbed his hands together to regain a bit more heat.

"Michael?" John asked the darkness.  There was no reply, so John trailed
his hand along the counter before setting off for the stairs.

He kept careful count of each step as he went, just so he'd know when he
reached the top of the first flight.  When he was a kid, there'd been times
when he thought the stairs had stopped before they really had, and fallen.
Other times when he expected one more step, and stumbled.

Walking across the carpet, he listened very carefully for movement behind
the doors, but heard nothing.  Finally he stopped in front of Michael's
door and put a hand out to touch it, just to make sure it was closed before
he knocked.

"Michael?"

Now there was the sound of movement.  "Come on in."

John pushed the door open, and took a small step into the room.  This was
one of the danger zones -- Michael had never been good at cleaning up after
himself, so the floor was like a minefield and you never knew what you were
about to step on.

"Just a second," Michael muttered, and from the height of the voice, John
knew he was bending down and clearing a path for his brother.  After a
moment, John felt Michael grow close and felt a hand on his elbow.

He allowed himself to be lead.  Sometimes there was no other option.

"You wanted to talk?"

Michael had stopped leading, which meant they were next to the bed.  John
put a hand out first, making sure of where it was and that there was a
clean spot to sit, then he lowered himself down.

Normally he wouldn't have sat, not for something like he knew was coming,
but if he hadn't, Michael would have kept fussing.  The hand would never
have left his arm, just in case John had wandered off the created path.

"Yeah, I did," Michael said.  John heard the door close across the room.
"What's going on between you and Nick?"

John shrugged.  "I think that's between him and me."

"He's a customer, Johnny, and he'll be gone in a couple of days.  You can't
get too caught up in him."

John simply shrugged again.

"You're not listening to me," Michael said again.  The force was in his
voice, the same force that had always worked with their parents.  "He's a
celebrity, and he'll forget you the minute they drive out of here."

"I can take my own risks."

Then Michael was kneeling in front of him, and John felt his brothers arms
resting on his knees.  "And to top it off, he's a kid, and a pretty messed
up one.  A good wind and he'll be thrown over the horizon -- I've half
expected to see him keel over more than once."

"He's stronger than you know."

"No, he isn't.  He's weaker than you can see.  And to top it off, you got
between him and his friends, and that's a place we should never go with
customers.  You do see that, right?  It's a business, and we can't afford
that."

"It's my business.  The farm is yours, the house is mine."

"We're a team, Johnny, you and me.  Always were and always will be -- in
all things.  And right now I've got to tell my partner that he has to back
off.  If we play this right, we've got repeat business whenever Brian and
Kevin come back to visit their family.  Their referrals alone can double
our tenants, and we don't get enough on our own to ignore that."

"I don't need to be lectured."

"Apparently you do, otherwise you wouldn't be doing this."

John clenched his jaw and tried to push off the bed, but his brother's arms
made the move impossible.  "Let me go."

"Not yet, Johnny, not until I see some understanding on your side of it."

"Look, I'm falling for him, okay?  And you may be part of this business,
but you don't have any say in who I fall for.  I did put myself in the
middle, but just because Nick's not ready to do it himself.  That good
enough for you?"

He could tell his brother was shaking his head by the sound of his words.
"No, I'm sorry but it's not."

"Fine."  John reached down for his brother's arms and shoved, toppling the
man.  He stood up and made for the door before his brother could stop him,
going around his brother and across the room, holding his arms out in
unfamiliar territory.

He heard his brother stand and felt the hand closing around his wrist, and
he pulled it away, turning and trying to remember the way to the door.
"Keep your hands off me, Mike."

Stepping out into the darkness, John found the floor in a place he didn't
expect, and his foot got caught up in a pile of clothes.  He tripped,
falling and tried to bring his arms up to protect his head.  He heard his
brother's yell and felt the movement to catch him, but then there was a
crack as his head hit something hard, and a moment later the fall was
complete.

His brother was kneeling beside him.  "You okay, Johnny?"

"I'm fine . . ." John said, before wincing against the pain at the back of
his head.  Already he could hear the movement coming up the stairs, people
running in the hall.

"Don't move," his brother said, "you're bleeding."

Then there was the sound of the door being thrown open.

"What happened?"  It was Howie's voice.

"He fell -- get a towel from the bathroom," came Michael's clipped
response.

The sound of someone running out of the room and across the hall.  The feel
of a cold hand on the side of his face.  Nick.

"You okay?" came the soft voice.

John winced again.  "Is there much blood?"  Howie was back and John felt
his brother pressing a towel against the back of his head.

"It doesn't look like it," Nick said.  Nick took one of John's hands and
squeezed.  "Should we get him to an emergency room?"

"Naw," Michael said, pushing the towel tightly against the hurt, "I don't
think it's that bad.  I can manage it here."

"What happened?"

"He fell," Michael snapped.

"Howie?"  It was Nick again.

John felt Howie's hand on his shoulder, and a new hand take control of the
towel against his head.  Michael had been brushed aside.

"You think you can stand?" Howie asked, pulling the towel away just long
enough to get a look at the damage.  "Doesn't look that bad.  It'll be more
bruise than anything else."

John slowly sat up, his mind spinning from the movement, and then felt Nick
and Howie's arms there to lift him to his feet.  But it was really Howie
who lifted him.

"I'll just clean it up and we'll be down in . . ."  But Michael found
himself talking to their backs, as the two Backstreet Boys led John out of
the room.

***

End of Part 9.