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Story Notes:
I am so happy I wrote something! o/
Author's Chapter Notes:
I wrote something, squee!

Present. Right now. Here.

That’s it. He wanted to give up. Screw this. Screw Nick.

 

“Come on, come on, come on, come-”

 

“You’re worse than Baylee.”

 

Nick had the audacity to gasp. He really wished the kid would go to sleep already. “You refer to Baylee, your only ever loving son, as ‘worse’? I’m so telling.”

 

“You know what I mean.”

 

“Yeah, I know what you mean old man, but come on, you can do better than this!”

 

“I can’t. I give up.”

 

“But…you can’t give up. You’re such a spoilsport! Come on, it’s not that difficult!”

 

“I’m out of ‘s’ words, man.”

 

And really, he did. There were Stewardess, Stewards, Spoon, Sound System (double S, that has got to be a record or something), Sexy (he caught Nick looking at the secretary-like sexy woman down their isle, and really, it’d be awesome if she were a Secretary cause yeah, that’s ‘S’ for you), Soup, Salt, Sade (she was on their tiny tv screen earlier on), Sunflower seeds (another double S, thank you very much) and Sunglasses, but Nick’s answer was still a firmed ‘no’.

 

“Come o-”

 

“I’m going to strangle you if you- hey, that’s another ‘s’ for ya, ‘strangle’-”

 

“Nope, not it.”

 

“I give u-”

 

“You can’t give up.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because you can’t. Now come on already!”

 

“I really-” and then something clicked and the grin was back on his face. Sometimes, you just have to see what’s in front of you. Oh this is awesome! “Sweater! I’m wearing one and it starts with an ‘s’!”

 

“Yeah…no.”

 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!”

 

Nick sighed and shook his head, like as if he was disappointed in him and that’s just…

 

“Dude, come on!”

 

“Nick I swear, if the word you’re thinking about is nowhere to be found here, I’m so going to throw you out of this plane! See if-” Wait a minute…

 

“Damn, you should really look at yourself right now,” Nick smirked. “You’re having a light bulb moment, just like with the sweater, and I really hope you nailed it this time.”

 

“Dude, I’m like, so smart.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, just tell me already.”

 

“It’s sky! It’s S-K-Y, SKY! Tell me it’s the sky.”

 

“Oh Gawd…” Nick exclaimed, slapping his palms on his jeans.

 

“Come on,” Brian exclaimed, and then had to pause because now, he was sounding like Nick. “That has got to be it!” This ‘I Spy A…’ game needed to be put to rest some donkey years ago.

 

“No, it’s not.”

 

“I’m out of words man.”

 

“You can’t be that blonde.”

 

“I am blonde.” Brian pouted. “And so are you, Pot.”

 

“’m not a drug.”

 

“What?”

 

“You called me Pot.”

 

“Not that pot.” Brian sighed. “Kettle, pot, black?”

 

“You want coffee?”

 

Yeah. This was totally a scene out of a ‘two blondes ride on a plane…’ jokes.

 

“No, I don’t want coffee,” Brian smirked, because really, it was actually funny. “Just, can I give up already? Can you just tell me what the answer is?”

 

Nick’s grin was wide. His eyes lit up like a kid who’s about to tell you the biggest, damnest secret ever.

 

“Spain.”

 

“As in the country?”

 

“Is there anything else called Spain?”

 

“There could be…” Brian said, distracted. “Anyway, Spain? How can you spy Spain? We’re not even there yet.”

 

“That’s why it’s called spying, duh.”

 

Brian figured that was Nick Logic, because yeah, he was still clueless on that one.

 

“Fine, genius.” Brian played along. It was easier than having a little back and forth ‘argument’ over nick’s logic because they knew it’d never end anywhere until someone just shut up. “What do you spy in Spain?”

 

“A mob of really crazy fans.”

 

“Nice. You know they’d be all over you if they hear that.”

 

“What? It’s a compliment.”

 

“Nick, you just call them crazy fans.”

 

“Yeah…as in, they’re crazy for me.” Nick grinned. “Also, a mob is a good thing. We want a mob. A mob means we’re still relevant, or something.”

 

“Or something.” Brian smiled. He could already tell Nick was on his high. When he was in such a mood, nothing could stop him, not even a mob ready for a piece of him. It’d normally ended up pretty tame; the worst they’d woke up to was a little headache and some minor bruising from all the shoving, nothing that couldn’t be taken care of with some Tylenol. But you just never know…then again, Nick could afford a bust up lip all on his own without any mobs. Sometimes, he thought Nick never really got the hang of his long limbs.

 

“Should we get you some knee pads?” Nick’s giggle was his only answer.

 

The plane took a short dip and the vice grip was back on his wrist. This sure was a long flight.

 

Time for another distraction.

 

“So,” he started, tapping the hand assuredly. “You think the fans are already up on our asses for not coming to Howard’s bachelor’s party?”

 

 

Past. A half hour ago. Earlier.

 

When it happened, it felt normal, like, it was the logical thing to do, so Brian didn’t think any of it, just placed his right hand on top of Nick’s, which was clutching his left hand like his life depended on it.

 

He gave it a couple of assuring taps as he felt the pull at gravity when the plane took off.

 

Then it hit him, like a ton of bricks, minus the pain. He turned to look at Nick, who had his headphone on, some loud music blaring until all he could make out were static noises. His eyes were closed but he was far from sleep; that frown etched on his face like permanent glue.

 

Amused, he gave his sleeve a light tug, which was enough to draw attention to the young man. He pulled the headphone down almost immediately, let it hang around his neck like some feathered boa. Heh, that’d be a nice accessory on Nicky, a pink feathered boa to top that plain, straight out of the washing machine white t-shirt.

 

“Wha’? Something wrong?”

 

Brian couldn’t help the wide grin he was aware plastered on his face. He couldn’t let such an opportunity slipped by now, could he?

 

“You tell me.” Brian said, eyebrows raised.

 

“Uh…” Nick started. “You woke me up, so shouldn’t I be asking you?”

 

“You have a vice grip on my arm there, buddy.”

 

Brian watched as Nick’s eyes grew wide when it finally dawned on him and he let go, pulling his hand back to himself.

 

“Oh! Sorry about that.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’re still…” Brian grinned. Seeing as Nick chose not to say anything other than squirmed in his seat some more, Brian added, “After all these years?”

 

“It’s called phobia. You don’t just not have it anymore or something.”

 

Brian actually gave it a thought for a while, because he knew he hated flying, but was it a phobia for him? Did this mean, on a fear for flying scale, Nick’s was higher than his and if it was, did it even make a difference at all?

 

A swift of something nice took him away from his thoughts and he looked up only to find a flight attendant had just walked by and her perfume was exactly what Leighanne had worn earlier that day, when she had waved him goodbye from the front porch of their house, Baylee held firmly on her hip as if he’d always belonged there…

 

Nick still looked like he was sucking on a basket full of lemons.

 

“Wanna play a game?”

 

It was something that they do way back then. Nick was still so young, the words ‘am I sexual?’ would make him blush, let alone sing and Brian was still fresh out of Kentucky, his southern accent still a little too thick for his young friend to sometime understand. But they were close, practically inseparable, to a point where his cousin once claimed that they were joint at the hips.

 

We’re like that blue monster twins muppet on Sasame Street, Brian! Remember them? They’re joined at the hips too!

“Can I pick?”

 

Brian couldn’t help it. Nick looked like a five year old waiting anxiously for the nod of ‘okay’ from his parent. Or, Nick was turning into Baylee. Sometimes, the lines could be blurry.

 

“Go for it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter End Notes:
This might have a tiny sequel, hopefully. But I might have jinxed myself for typing this...out loud?