**The following story is pure fiction, not meant to imply anything about the people portrayed herein.
Do NOT read if you are under 18. Feedback welcome.**
(visual aids: http://photos.posh24.com/p/944718/z/kevin_jonas/nick_jonas_softball.jpg and http://www.flickr.com/photos/rkaplan/4922122617/sizes/l/in/photostream/ )
Nick/Joe/Jack Lawless/Greg Garbowsky(Garbo) fic "Showers"
No one had signed up for a full season of softball. Nick Jonas was a tricky little dude. One day he brought up the idea of doing something organized and fun with the whole band, some kind of sport. Joe had offered "Volley ball!" and Kevin had chimed in with "Oh, oh! Dodge ball!" but Nick had smiled at the front of the bus where he held court and said "I was thinking something more along the lines of...softball?"
The band had responded well. Garbo raised his eyebrows at Jack like "that's actually a cool idea." And JT and Christa had also quickly agreed. They were touring pretty hard this time around, flying back and forth and driving all over the country for shows, sometimes one every night. So everyone was starting to feel cooped up in the bus, lethargic. In need of something active. Jack thought that Nick was probably a genius, to have sprung the softball idea on them just when they were starting to climb the hotel walls in boredom.
A few days later, Nick brought up the 'playing softball for charity' idea and that clinched it.
And then one afternoon, he stood up at the front of the bus, grinning, and opened a big cardboard box. Nick made a show of pulling a white and blue jersey out with the name GARBO stitched professionally on the back. Everyone ooed and aahed and wanted one.
Jack's just said LAWLESS. Nick walked over and tossed it to him, said "I would have put FLAWLESS, but I thought you might want to wear it again later or something." Jack looked it over and gave him a thumbs up. Nick gave one back and everyone was charmed.
At their first game, Nick put his on without any show and Jack saw the little red C on his chest and realized that he had a team captain for the first time in his life.
It was a weird feeling.
Now they were a whole season into being a part-time softball team/band and Jack felt pretty wiped. The jerseys lost their shine, Christa kept falling asleep in the dugout and Ryan actually walked off the field a few days ago and it took both a talking to from JT and Nick to get him to come back.
Nick even had Hoffman playing now. The smug little bastard kept trying to mess with Jack's zen. And steal his position.
They were in the Y showers off the field, too grimy to mass-exodus on the bus without causing some damage and mess. Jack can feel the grit deep in his hair, on his scalp, itchy and sweaty. It was probably 97 degrees out all day. He's got a peeling sunburn on his face already. He worked up a little lather with his Dr. Bronner's and started scrubbing.
These showers were nicer than the usual, with little stalls between that covered the necessary parts, from their hips down. He was in the stall next to Garbo, and Garbo was in the stall next to Joe. The rest of the team was out and waiting, snoozing on the bus in the heat. He knew he should be cleaning up faster, but he wanted to enjoy the water, the feeling of it on his worn muscles. His calves hurt. His biceps.
He glanced down along the line of showers, passed Garbo's blissed face, to where Nick was standing in full gear by Joe's shower, berating him. Jack watched, water running over his head so he couldn't hear, could only see Nick's little mouth going on and on, the flash of his tongue to wet his chapped lips, his eyes narrow against the sweat on his brow.
Nick didn't shower with them. He usually took the bus back to the hotel in full gear, his two layers of softball shirts, his softball legging on. His cleats. He was too modest or something. On the bus, Jack would fall asleep, cool air from the open bus windows running under his loose shirt against his clean skin, and Nick would stew there in his own sweat and dust, red-faced and scowling. Scowling with a line etched in his brow when they'd lost. Which was often. Because they weren't actually a softball team, they were a boy-pop band. And they weren't really great at this softball stuff.
Nick stood, hair curling around his ball-cap in the shower steam, chewing Joe out. Joe wasn't a good player. He was probably one of their weakest players, actually. Joe wasn't there to win, he was there to work on his tan and goof off. At least that's what Nick was saying in his Coach chew-out.
Joe just stared off, half-listening, face placid. The way the guy always looked whenever Nick was getting all anal-retentive on him.
Jack rinsed out his hair and then rubbed at his mustache. Cleaned it. When he looked back, Garbo was looking at him like can you believe this little bitch? Garbo loved Nick, a whole lot. Sometimes people joked about Garbo being the Other Big Jonas brother. But Garbo probably took Nick's softball bullshit a little harder than most. He loved him and hated being jerked around. While Ryan would complain darkly about not being paid to be softball players, Garbo would just look disappointed at the whole situation. They'd basically been tricked into it. Jack didn't mind too much. He didn't have anything better to do and he was getting all wiry and a solid workout. But Garbo didn't like being tricked by a teenager. There was only so much a man can take off a bossy 16-year-old.
Nick took off his hat and wiped his forehead, face grim. And then he said "Greg. Man, we need to talk about your swing. I don't feel like you're really putting any power behind it and I know you could do better."
Jack stared at Garbo, watched the disbelief flitter across Garbo's features and then quickly make room for complete irritation. Garbo stared back at Jack, eyes narrow like he was thinking is this actually happening?
Jack tried to smile but Nick was still analyzing Garbo's game.
"I want you guys giving this 110% and I think JT is and I know Kevin's trying and at least Joe is trying, but you're probably doing 65% on a good day, 70%, and I'm sick of carrying these games and losing because people are being lazy or copping-out and not carrying their own weight."
Jack watched Garbo scrub the water off his face and turn to Nick, brows low, bunched together. Dangerous. Garbo wasn't a scary-looking guy, but his shoulders got all tight and raised, the line of his back straight like he was getting together a big blow-out confrontation. Jack reached over the stall and put his hand to Garbo's naked shoulder and tried to hold him.
"What did you say?" Garbo asked Nick, voice hard with disbelief. Nick looked surprised for a second, eyes widening. But the heat of the showers must have been getting to him while he was standing there in his uniform, because his forehead popped with sweat and he grimaced and grit out "I said y-you aren't giving me anything out there. And I'm not going to be able to fill in all the time, when you can't pick up the slack-"
Jack had him and then he didn't. Garbo was out of his shower, grabbing Nick by the upper arms, fisting up his long-sleeve tee, wetting it.
Jack saw Joe's eyes widening,two stalls away and then the strange sight of Garbo's pale, naked ass flexing as he wrestled the kid in his softball jersey.
In seconds, they were back in Garbo's shower and Nick was spluttering, face beet-red as Garbo headlocked him and hauled him under the water, gritting out "You little shit!"
Joe's mouth was parted, stunned, and he just stared. Jack didn't do much else, he just stared too.
"G-greg!" Nick gasped, water beating over his face and mouth, soaking his shirts until they were all translucent, slick to his chest and shoulders. The kid's wet hair smoothed, ran down over his eyes so all Jack could see was his panting, wet mouth and his ticking little jaw as he clenched his teeth and struggled.
Suddenly Garbo had the kid knocked stomach-first into the stall side, facing Jack. And then Garbo was right up against Nick's back, growling down at him. "Who taught you how to talk to adults like that, huh? We're all busting our asses to be your band and your softball teammates and you think you can stand in here and lecture us like you're really our coach?"
Nick's face twisted as he tried to get out of Garbo's grasp. He made a throaty, angry sound and his eyes flashed open, wildly, and found Jack. He looked at him and Jack blushed, ashamed that he wasn't going to stop this, that he wanted the kid to get a little of what he deserved. Nick seemed to see it, and his eyes narrowed and he turned angrily to look over his shoulder and said "Get off me! Joe. Get dad."
Jack saw Joe's face just go all smirky. And he stood back under the water, watching, body loose and playful. A bolt of heat ran down Jack's spine when he realized that Joe wasn't going to realize the seriousness of this and come to the kid's rescue. Garbo was free to do whatever he wanted.
"Greg," Jack said, a kneejerk response to the realization that they were all just standing here, three naked men in the showers, watching as this boy's arm got twisted.
Garbo shot Jack a look and then he knocked Nick into the stall side again and Nick grunted. Nick's face was all shaking anger, bottom lip quivering with it. Jack stared and then Garbo said something that didn't really make sense. Something like "If you're gonna be such a tight-ass, maybe you need someone to help loosen you up."
And then Garbo's hand disappeared behind the stall and Nick bucked, tried to get away before he gasped suddenly, startled. He began shifting against the stall, forceful movements, his mouth gaping open and closed.
Garbo dropped his head to Nick's shoulder and looked down Nick's back, in between them.
"Ohhhh God, what are you...Garbo!" Nick cried out and his whole body lunged forward, flush into the stall to get away from Garbo's hands.
Garbo groaned and then said "Sorry, wait, Christ. Wait!" and brought his hand up. Jack felt his stomach drop deep into his warm guts when Garbo began sucking and wetting two of his fingers. Jack heard Joe moan "Ohhhh," behind them.
"Yeah. I...I'm gonna loosen him up a lot," Garbo said, eyes closed, forehead to Nick's wet curls. His hand disappeared between them again and Jack knew without looking that Garbo had peeled the kids stupid softball leggings down and was trying to put his fingers in the boy's ass.
"Garbo-" Jack breathed out shakily. Garbo bit his lip hard and the kid reared up with a grinding shout, eyes clenched shut. Jack could see the muscles of Garbo's arm tighten up and start trembling, fingers probably shoved deep.
"Oh my god," Joe whined and when Jack flashed a look at the other brother, Joe had started jerking himself off, bottom lip caught in his teeth, shoulder bunching and flexing rhythmically.
"Such a tight-ass. You never put anything...in. Oh, man. Not even your own kid finger, r-right?" Garbo grunted in Nick's red-tipped ear as they started shaking the stall side, the wood groaning as Garbo finger-fucked him against it.
Nick's face was bright red and crumpled up with pain, his eyes closed like he wanted to deny that this was happening. But then Garbo's elbow started pointing out and Jack knew Garbo was putting an extra twist into it. Nick let out a high, shocked sound at the change.
Garbo had just rubbed the kid's little prostate.
Jack could imagine the burn of it, remembered the first time he'd had that experience. The way your body got all centered up hot and melty at the place deep, where someone was touching you for the first time. The way you'd realize how hot your own insides were when they were stretched open for fingers, a dick.
Jack took a hold of his own hard-on, watching as Nick's face got all overwhelmed and agitated, nose scrunched at the bridge with trying not to lose control of himself.
"Garbo," Nick moaned, long and hurt. "Stop-"
And then Garbo snarled "don't clench-" and slipped a palm around, cupped it over Nick's mouth, shutting him up.
Garbo took him first, but he wasn't angry anymore by the time he got in. He was almost sweet, kissing at the kid's sweat-dripping temple as he pushed Nick into the stall side and entered him with a hard, quick shove.
He still had his palm over Nick's mouth though, so when he dicked in, Nick's eyes shuddered and tears dripped but the shout was caught, held in.
Garbo's brow was smooth as he gave small, invasive thrusts. As he took the kid like that, all naked against Nick's back while Nick was still in his softball jersey, though it was sopping now, showed every line of his heaving shoulders.
"You're doing so good, Nick. Thank you, man-" Garbo breathed Nick in deep, face in Nick's wet curls as his body jolted Nick again and again into the stall.
Garbo didn't ask Joe if he wanted to try, Joe just came over on his own.
He was shaking, biting his lip as he took position behind his little fucked brother. Nick had dropped his forehead to the stall edge and was holding it now, fisting it with both hands like he was taking his stance. Readying himself. He had two slashes across his cheekbones of red, and his nose was running a little from the steam, from being in his uniform in the heat and from crying.
But when Joe nudged into him from behind, Nick's head rolled back and his eyes were dark, pupils blown, aroused. He stared dazedly at Jack. His little mouth was all swollen from biting his lip.
Jack stared back and touched shaky fingers to the boy's mouth. Joe groaned and shimmied and then shoved. And his eyes rolled closed with a groan of "Nick, unnn."
Nick's eyes shut too, blissed. And then Jack felt those lips pucker, take his fingertip in for a little, sharp suck.
Jack hissed.
Garbo came up behind Joe, grinning, face all smoothed out from getting a good come off that boy. Joe whined when Garbo took his narrow hips in two hands and joked "Lemme show you how a man does it."
Nick gave a silent shout, mouth dropped open as Joe jerked deeper. And then Joe started shaking and coming, draped all over his little brother. Nick's lip curled up with determination as he strained to hold Joe's weight and take his orgasm deep in his ass.
Jack didn't know if he should, but his dick was aching like nothing he'd ever felt before. He was dripping precome, looked like a bruise between his legs and then Nick said "Come on," voice broken and gravelly- high with his frustration. "Do it."
Jack stared down at the boy's red ass. He plucked the boy's pert ass cheek aside and peered low. He was all raw there, all wet. Slick. Jack closed his eyes to collect himself, thinking of Garbo and Joe in there still, clinging heat against Nick's smooth muscle.
"Come on!" Nick said louder.
Jack stood swiftly, lined himself up and took the boy.
He was tight but Jack could get in. His insides were just like Jack thought they'd be. There was nothing but smooth, sleek, moving heat. Wet with come. And an elastic muscle that mouthed at him, twitched.
Jack groaned out a swear and fucked the kid ragged.
He barely touched the boy's cock, hand dipped around him to see, and Nick's crown dug into his shoulder, his body began arching wildly as he blew spunk down the back of Jack's knuckles.
The kid's ass screwed around him and Jack grunted and shot.