For Clarinetkate, Sesa 2003.

Sure Thing
 

[1]

AJ bangs on the door and hollers as he runs past - "come on, come on, we're waiting!" - but Nick doesn't blink.

"You go like this, see?" Brian is saying, "then like this, see?"

Nick copies careful as he can but still screws it up. The knot looks sorta okay but the ends are all wrong, the skinny end longer than the fat one. When Brian looks up from straightening his own, he laughs his ass off, and after a moment Nick laughs too.

"Well, uh," Brian says when he's stopped, "it's not bad for a first try." He grins, shaking his head, and steps closer to tug the knot loose. He makes it look easy, flipping and folding like clockwork. "Okay," he says with a satisfied nod, and slaps the palm of his hand against Nick's lapel. "Now you got yourself a tie."

"Yeah," and Nick ducks his head, a little red and hot in the face, "thanks."

[2]

Looking back, Nick's not real sure that's how it actually happened.

He can't recall the name of the city, if the tie was spotted or striped. He doesn't know what they were getting dressed up for. Maybe it didn't even happen, not like that exactly, one memory bleeding into another like colours running in the wash.

Nick remembers the slap, though, that's for real. The easy affection of it and Brian's smile. They must've been very young.

Nick looks at his own hand now, fingertips callused from playing guitar night after night for months. Almost time to get out on stage again, he realises, and his stomach knots a little in anticipation. It's the same feeling he gets before every performance, never knowing till it happens if he's gonna fly or fuck it up or both.

There haven't been many bad gigs on this tour though never a perfect one either. Plenty that came close, sure, but there's always one song he should've played better or a note he didn't hit quite right. Nick doesn't beat himself up over it, just marks it all down to experience, something to aim towards the next time.

Even though he hasn't had a perfect show yet, he'll recognise it when it happens.

That's just the way things work, Nick thinks as he sweeps a handful of guitar picks from the table and into his pocket, like how some things you know without asking. He leaves the dressing room and heads backstage, the roar of the crowd sounding like distant thunder.

Yeah, like that, the memory of their heads bent close together, the rustle of the tie sliding silky rough between Brian's fingers. It's exactly how it would've happened, if it did, something unrealised but true.

[3]

Their German was okay for ordinary things but getting the woman at hotel reception to understand was something else altogether. Nick tries first, then Brian, but it's useless.

"Never mind," Brian says, putting the receiver down, and he leads Nick into the bathroom saying, "we'll take turns. And drag that chair in here," he adds, already rummaging around in his bag for the shaving cream, "you're too tall when you're standing."

There's just barely enough room between the sink and the toilet to fit the flimsy hotel chair, Nick sitting with his back to the space where the mirror isn't as he tilts his chin upwards and lets Brian lather his face with cream. When Brian starts with the razor Nick knows that he should keep still but his mouth keeps turning up at the corners. He doesn't mean for it to happen but it does.

"Hold still," Brian says absently, trying to shave the side of Nick's cheek; but the next time he twitches Brian says it a little more deliberately - "hold still" - and pinches Nick's ear for emphasis.

"Ow." Nick winces.

"Yeah? Well, just think how much more it'll hurt when I cut you." Brian shakes the razorblade threateningly though his face crinkles into the familiar grin, eyes small and bright. "So quit it."

Nick takes a deep breath and settles back, closing his eyes. "Yeah, okay, go."

Brian is careful and he takes his time, same as he does when he's picking out a song on his guitar or trying on a new pair of shoes. Usually Nick hates to sit still for long, but with Brian's hands moving light and sure across his face, knowing he's the focus of all that concentration, yeah, he doesn't mind it.

Finally Brian rinses off the razor for the last time, wipes away the flecks of cream from Nick's jawline, saying, "Yep, you're done."

Nick starts to open his eyes just as Brian leans in to press a kiss to his mouth. It lasts as long as it takes Nick to realise it's happening, and then it's over. He looks up, blinking, as Brian smiles and holds out the razor: "My turn."

[4]

Almost the very moment after he stumbles off-stage, still flushed and sweaty and riding that post-show wave of adrenaline, the cell gets shoved into his hand. He'd wave it off except the name on the display says it's Brian.

"Hey," says Nick immediately, but it comes out more like a shout, his ears still ringing and heart still thumping. He tries again, aims for moderation, for cool: "Brian, dawg, what's up?"

Soon as Brian's voice comes crackling back - "Hey, Nick!" - he can feel that same goofy grin just rising right up out of his chest, same as last week and last year and then as far back as he can go. "Good show?"

"Yeah, yeah, pretty good. Hey, Bri, d'you remember," Nick says without skipping a beat, as though they're picking up the conversation from five minutes ago, "like that time, I think maybe we were in Cleveland, and you were teaching me how to tie my tie?" He switches the phone to his other ear and continues, "I mean years ago, man, years and years. You were teaching me, and we were getting dressed up for something, and I had like this tie 'cause we had to be in suits and stuff."

"I remember the suits, but Cleveland, no..." Brian exhales into the phone. "Hmph. Orlando, maybe. I think we were going to some benefit."

"No way," he scoffs, more certain now he's said it that he's right, "Cleveland, man, it was Cleveland," same moment as Brian chimes in with, "Orlando, definitely Orlando."

And it's like every other pointless argument they ever had, hanging around waiting for a plane or riding in the back of a limo. Cleveland or Orlando, with pineapple or without, you started it no you started it...

Time passes but some things you can always count on, don't ever change. Nick heads into his dressing room with the phone tucked between his shoulder and ear, still towelling the sweat from his face and insisting on Cleveland.

[5]

When Nick starts to shoot upwards - "like a weed," AJ says over and over till Nick smacks him in the arm - he gets clumsier too, feet too big and arms too long, barrelling around corners and tumbling down stairs.

"Growin' up," Kevin drawls, stating the obvious, but he still musses Nick's hair when they're watching TV and that's one thing Nick guesses won't be changing anytime soon.

It's not a problem till the night Nick trips over in the middle of a song and lands on his ass. He gets back on his feet straight away and only a few scattered laughs echo back from the darkness of the auditorium, but it's enough to make him sour and snappish all the way back to the hotel.

"You were fine," Howie assures him. "Honestly, Nick, the way you recovered so quick, most of them didn't even notice." Nick almost believes him, for a moment, until he remembers that that's just Howie's way and he would say that. So he scowls and turns away.

Later, when Howie's taking a shower and they're alone in the hotel room, Brian pulls him into a hug. "C'mere, Frack," Brian says, each word fluttering the hairs on the back of Nick's neck, and it would be ticklish if he weren't so fucking pissed off.

But it's easier not to be, to be still, when Brian is wrapping his arms around him and saying into his ear, "You were great today, you know that, right?"

After a moment Nick mutters, "Yeah," and though it's no big concession, not even something he believes, it makes Brian happier.

Nick lets Brian pull him down onto the bed and though he knows they shouldn't, not now, not when Howie could open the door any minute, he turns to kiss and be kissed. That's as far as they go, have gone - Brian's hands careful on Nick's waist, mouths open and touching - but it's enough.

"Love you," Brian says, and Nick knows he will never doubt it.

By Ro, December 2003
Thanks to SQ for beta reading.

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