Alternate reality where the JoBros don't QUITE manage to make it on their own merit. They get to LA, but they're barely surviving, in debt up to their eyes, praying for that miracle breakthrough. Nick's dad decides that selling Nick's virginity to Nestor the music mogul is the only way to save his family. Do NOT read if you're under 18 or if Nick's somewhat-religious inner-monologue may offend you.
Nestor Carbonell is the most powerful record producer in Hollywood and Nick can't believe his luck when he's chosen to be Mr. Carbonell's latest protégé. His family is ecstatic--well, everyone but Dad anyway. Dad seems lukewarm on the idea, but he doesn't explain why, doesn't try to talk Nick out of it. Nick shrugs it off and eagerly accepts Mr. Carbonell's offer--it's the break they've all been waiting for, there's no way he's turning it down.
^^
He doesn't see Mr. Carbonell at all for the first few days he's living in the man's opulent Malibu house. The head butler-guy, Michael, makes sure Nick settles in okay. When Michael takes him on a tour of the place, Nick can't contain his excitement. Mr. C's got an arcade, an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a bowling alley, two tennis courts and even a maze. The mini movie theater is cool, too, but Nick prefers to play outside when he's not working on music.
Of course, when Mr. C finally makes an appearance, Nick's doing something goofy. He's got a basketball and is trying to make a shot off the wall near the garden. He made it once, early on, and he's determined to do it again. He's mid-shot when someone speaks from behind him.
"How long have you been working on this?"
Nick follows through, lobbing the basketball hard, freezing when it seems to ricochet at just the right angle. He holds his breath, watching it fly through the air, and lets out this big whoop when it actually goes through the hoop. He jumps up and down, laughing, and says, "Did you see that?!" as he's turning around.
It's Mr. C standing there, watching Nick with a small smile, one eyebrow quirked. "Not bad, Mr. Jonas. How long did it take to master?"
Nick blinks--it's not exactly mastered, but he likes the sound of that so he just shrugs. "Uh...maybe half an hour?"
"Try two hours. I asked after you around three and Michael said you were here. It's almost five now."
"Oh." Nick feels bad. He should've known Mr. C was looking for him, should've been working on that new song, rather than out here acting like a little kid. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize--"
"Don't apologize. I wasn't inconvenienced at all. It was worth the wait, that shot was impressive."
Nick blushes. "Thank you, sir."
Mr. C steps forward with a nod and grips Nick by the nape of his neck, but Nick's so gross and sweaty that he instinctively pulls away.
Mr. C says, "Whoah," and tugs Nick back, setting his arm across Nick's shoulders.
"S-sorry, sir!" Nick stutters, face flaming in embarrassment.
"Relax." Mr. C squeezes Nick's shoulder and starts back to the main house, Nick tucked under his arm. He's not a big man, but he's bigger than Nick. "I just thought it was time you found out exactly why you're here. I've got the contract in my study--I'll let you look it over."
"Oh, that's great, but..." Nick grimaces and glances down, tugging the sweat-soaked t-shirt away from his stomach. "Maybe I should shower first?"
"No, no; you're fine. This will only take a few minutes."
"Okay." Nick doesn't like it, but it's not like he can argue with Nestor Carbonell. His basketball shorts are clinging to him just as badly as the t-shirt though and he feels indecent--especially next to Mr. C, who's immaculate as always.
"Have a seat," Mr. C says, waving to the leather couch opposite a large mahogany desk. Nick settles himself gingerly at the edge, reluctant to get his sweat all over the nice furniture, and Mr. C flashes him another smile before handing over the document.
Nick brushes damp curls off his forehead and bites his lip, skimming the contract for the important bits. His pulse kicks up and his stomach starts to churn, and he re-reads the second paragraph three times before speaking. "Is this some kind of joke?" His voice comes out small, young-sounding.
"Most definitely not a joke." Mr. C sits next to him, close enough that his knee's pressed to Nick's hip. Nick jerks away, turning to shoot him a hard, narrow-eyed look.
Mr. C looks at him, eyebrows raised in shock, and then laughs--like, full on belly-laughter. Nick starts to stand, suddenly sure that this is all some big, elaborate prank, but Mr. C sobers up and grabs Nick's elbow, tugging him down. Nick loses his balance and lands half atop Mr. C, who effortlessly manhandles Nick until Nick's seated fully on his lap, arms pinned to his sides.
"Calm down, little boy." Mr. C's voice drops low, resonating in Nick's bones. He presses his mouth to Nick's ear in a soft, dry kiss and Nick grunts, stomach swooping in terror. He struggles harder to break the man's hold, but Mr. C is a lot stronger than he looks. His hands are hurting-hard on Nick when he growls, "Calm down and listen." He shakes Nick for emphasis, jarring the air from Nick's chest, startling Nick to stillness. "Are you calm now?"
Nick nods, mouth open on panting breaths, heart racing.
"This isn't a joke, it's a business deal--one your father seemed to appreciate. You'll appreciate it, too, if you just keep your head."
"H-how--" Nick's voice cracks and he stops, breathing deep to keep the panic at bay. "How can you say that? You just gave me a piece of paper that says my dad signed over my v-virginity--sold it--to you!" He closes his eyes and sags back against Mr. C. "This has to be a joke."
It should be a relief, but he hates looking stupid, so his blood's still boiling.
"Did you see what I paid? Jonas Group has just signed the most lucrative multi-media deal in history. That has to mean something to a little businessman like yourself."
Nick frowns, glaring at the contract. It's on the floor in a heap, but Nick remembers what it said, remembers how real and legal it all looked. His frown turns into a scowl and he feels tears stinging the back of his eyelids, but then his brain catches on something.
"But...I don't--why did Dad say I'd be here six months? If that's all you want? And how--you're a guy! How can you even take that from me?"
Mr. C groans and rubs his rough cheek against Nick's, scratching Nick with his stubble. "Oh God." His arms tighten around Nick and his hips jolt up, and Nick suddenly registers the stiff heat poking at his backside. "All the things I want to do to you...it's going to take time, Nicholas. I can't even imagine six months will be enough, but your dad was firm on that."
Nick strains against Mr. C, fighting again to break the man's grip, but it's useless. He shakes his head stubbornly, saying, "But you're a man and I'm a--"
"A beautiful young man." Mr. C cuts him off, mouthing at Nick's neck. Nick hopes he does throw up and that it gets all over Mr. C's fancy couch and nice shoes. Mr. C laughs again, a warm huff of air that makes Nick shiver. "Do you really not know what happens when two men have sex?"
"N-no!" Why would Nick know that? "I just know it's a sin."
"Oh, little boy. We are going to have so much fun."
^^
Mr. C finally backs off, telling Nick that, in the end, it's Nick's decision, not his father's. So although the contract is legally binding, Mr. C will allow Nick to break it, but Jonas Group will lose everything. He gives Nick until morning to decide. Nick spends the night tossing and turning. He tries to pray, but there's too much static...he can't feel God in this place. He wants so badly to call Joe, but Mr. C had been very clear on that.
"Whether or not you agree to this, you can't tell another living soul--not even your brother. If anything leaks, your whole family will suffer for it."
So Nick makes the decision on his own, agrees to let this powerful, terrifying man have him...as much as he likes--however he likes--for six months.
Mr. C looks very, very pleased by Nick's decision. He cups Nick's face and says, "We'll begin tonight."
^^
Mr. C guides Nick into his room with a hand at the small of Nick's back, gently insistent when Nick's step falters. The bedroom is dominated by a large four-poster bed, but Mr. C settles into a chair near the window and tells Nick to undress. Nick drops his gaze to the floor and obeys with shaking hands and clumsy fingers. He's never felt this helpless and humiliated before, but he said he would, so he's got to do it. He can't imagine what this man wants from him, can't understand why he wants Nick at all. Baring his chest and belly is almost worse than baring his dick, but there's a part of him that hopes Mr. C will change his mind, once he sees how flawed Nick is.
When Nick's completely naked, hands covering his junk, Mr. C makes a low, pleased sound and says, "Come here." Nick hesitates and Mr. C's voice is hard when he repeats himself. "I said, come here."
Nick shuffles forward until Mr. C's shoes come into view, then he stops. Mr. C sighs and reaches out, gripping Nick's wrists and tugging Nick between his knees. Then he leans back, letting go of Nick. "Move your hands, let them hang at your side."
Nick forces himself to obey, trembling hard enough now that his teeth start to chatter.
"Nick." Mr. C sounds different, almost gentle, and he sets his hands on Nick's hips. He holds Nick still and leans forward, pressing a kiss to Nick's navel, eyes closed. Nick watches and whimpers, tensing up all over; Mr. C's hands are dark against Nick skin, they look so big. Mr. C starts talking in a hushed whisper, right against the ticklish skin of Nick's belly.
"Don't be ashamed, you're perfect--the most perfect young man I've ever seen." He traces the cut of muscle at Nick's hips. "Look at that," he breathes. "Perfect Adonis belt. Do you know how hard men work for this? But you...you were just born with it. Lucky boy."
Nick clenches his fists and tries to look strong, like he can handle this, but then Mr. C turns his attention to Nick's dick. It's hanging there, soft and small and pink, and Nick is just...he wants to die. Mr. C takes it in hand and reaches between Nick's legs to touch at his balls. No one's ever touched him like this, he has no defense against it. Heat rushes through his body, making him dizzy, blood thundering in his ears as his dick stiffens up.
"Oh no," Nick groans, horrified by his body's easy reaction.
"Shhh. It's okay," Mr. C gently hushes him, then ducks to kiss the head of Nick's dick, press his tongue to the slit. The wet, white-hot shock of it lights Nick up. His vision swims and his knees buckle. He grabs at Mr. C's shoulders and Mr. C catches Nick's hips, saying, "Go, get on the bed."
^^
Mr. C settles next to Nick, still dressed, and looks down at him, strong hands cupping Nick's sweaty, over-hot cheeks. He looks kind when he asks, "You okay?" and Nick screws his eyes shut, shaking his head. Mr. C laughs and smacks him, just a little tap. "You will be. Now, spread your legs for me."
Nick bites his lip and it takes everything in him to shift, force his knees apart. Mr. C makes a pleased noise and takes Nick in hand again. Nick gasps, startled by the firm grip. He slits his eyes open, happens to look down just as Mr. C's dark head dips. Nick has less than a second to brace himself before Mr. C's lips slide over him.
"Unghh," Nick cries out, his whole body jolting at the feel.
Mr. C's mouth is all smooth, plush, sucking heat. He tongues Nick's shaft and bobs, forcing the head against his inner cheek. Nick stares at the obscene bulge, whines high in his throat, toes curling. His whole body is overheated, on edge. Mr. C shoves one hand low, rolling Nick's sac, and Nick punches the bed, hips jerking up hard enough that he feels the sharp edge of Mr. C's teeth.
Mr. C pulls off and Nick gapes, so far gone that he forgets he doesn't actually want this. It's just--he was so close. He raises up on his elbows, flushed chest heaving, and stares at Mr. C, who's moved to lie along Nick's side. He smiles at Nick, mouth all red and wet-looking, just his index finger and thumb ringed around the base of Nick's dick.
"You want to get off? Want my mouth on you now, don't you?"
Nick just looks at him, unable to respond. He can't.
Mr. C laughs and moves his spit-slicked hand to Nick's cheek, making Nick flinch. "It's okay, no need for the puppy-dog eyes." He shifts, planting an elbow on the pillow near Nick's head, and whispers, "Just give me a kiss and I'll suck your hot little dick dry, I promise."
Nick meets Mr. C's gaze--too close, Nick can hardly breathe--noticing for the first time how very thick his eyelashes are. It's scary-intense to be the focus of this man's attention, but maybe not completely bad. Nick's never felt like this, not with Miley or Selena, not with anyone.
When Mr. C closes his eyes, Nick does the same, fingers flexing against the soft comforter beneath him. Mr. C's lips brush Nick's closed mouth, still damp and warm from sucking Nick's dick, and Nick's stomach swoops.
"Let me in, baby boy," he breathes, shifting to settle his whole body atop Nick, his clothes harsh on Nick's flushed, sensitive skin. He moves again, hips rutting at Nick a little roughly, too much sensation for Nick--he can't help but gasp. Mr. C licks into him straight away, running the tip of his tongue along Nick's teeth, the inside of Nick's lip.
Nick's hands fly to Mr. C's back, clenching at the loose material, and he wraps his legs around Mr. C, pressing his sore, overfull hardon to the hard line of Mr. C's dick. Mr. C hums and Nick clings to him, moaning and arching as Mr. C slides his tongue against Nick's, fucking Nick's mouth. He moves his hands, slipping them beneath Nick, and grips Nick's butt, forcing Nick to his rhythm.
Nick is overwhelmed. He's never had someone's hands on his bare skin, never felt another man's dick--even through Mr. C's trousers, Nick can feel him, feel the heat and hardness of him. Mr. C makes a strangled noise and sucks Nick's tongue into his mouth, and that's it. Nick's balls draw up, his fingers dig into the muscle at Mr. C's shoulders, and his whole body jerks, dick spurting hot and messy between them.
"Oh!" Mr. C sounds surprised, but he shoves a hand between them, gets his fist back on Nick. It's almost painful, like Mr. C is milking his dick. He pets Nick's face with his free hand, telling Nick that he's a good boy, and Nick shudders, dick spurting weakly with every rough pass of Mr. C's fist. He whimpers, body trembling, it's just so much, but he can't really remember why any of this could be considered a bad thing.
When he can't come anymore, he begs Mr. C to stop and he does, but as Nick's drifting off, he feels a hot mouth on the raw head of his dick, lapping at the mess there.
^^
Nick's bent like a pretzel, knees on either side of his head, half-hard dick trapped against his belly as Mr. C tongues at his hole. His thighs are weak with the strain of it, but he's not going to complain. When he came back to himself earlier, Mr. C had reprimanded Nick for coming so soon, messing up Mr. C's linen pants. He tugged Nick over, put Nick across his knees and spanked Nick's bare ass, like Nick was a child. It hurt. Nick didn't want to upset him again, especially not when his bottom was still stinging.
It's hard not to wiggle away from the tongue in his butthole though. It's so weird and gross, but Mr. C really seems to be enjoying himself . The hot press lifts for a moment and Mr. C grips Nick's ass, pulling his cheeks further apart, and it's like he's looking at Nick, looking at Nick's hole. It's so weird and it makes Nick feel incredibly vulnerable. His face burns with embarrassment, fingers helplessly clenching his own ankles.
He feels Mr. C's breath against the spit-wet, puckered skin, and then there's something hard pressing in, a fingertip or thumb, just snagging inside, touching Nick at his core.
Nick jerks, instinctively trying to get away, and Mr. C lets him go with a sigh, scooting back and tugging Nick's legs down on either side of his hips. Then he pulls Nick upright, so Nick's sitting in his lap--naked, flushed and sweaty--while he's still fully-dressed.
"W-what were you doing?" Nick can't help but ask, letting Mr. C see his confusion.
Mr. C doesn't answer right away. He's breathing funny though. He looks Nick over, dragging his gaze across Nick's face, lingering on Nick's mouth before pressing his thumb to the dip between Nick's collarbones. He's starting to look a little wrecked, pupils dilated, mouth and cheeks flushed, sweat beading his brow.
"Was thinking about getting in you, but you're not ready for that."
"In me?" Nick repeats blankly.
"Don't worry about it." He shakes his head, holds Nick to him with one arm around Nick's waist and roughs his palm over Nick's chest, right across Nick's nipple. Nick doesn't quite manage to bite back a shocked noise and Mr. C's eyes go even darker. He kisses Nick again and it's scary this time. Nick can feel hungry he is, can tell that he wants everything from Nick--knows that he'll probably get it.
He shoves Nick back after a few seconds, pushing Nick down as he stands. He starts stripping down, slow and deliberate, eyes on Nick the whole time, and Nick can't help but watch. Mr. C is very fit, not like a bodybuilder, more elegant. Nick can imagine that Joe will look like this down the road; spare, clean lines of muscle, nothing bulky or awkward. Mr. C has to be in his forties, but his abs are more defined than Nick's--Nick's starting to think that every guy has a better body than him.
He sits up, hunching over himself protectively, even though it's ridiculous to worry about his soft belly at this point, especially considering that earlier he'd been hoping it would drive Mr. C away.
"Nick," Mr. C says his name softly and Nick looks up, sees that Mr. C's working off his belt. Nick immediately drops his gaze, feels a flush spreading from his cheeks to his chest. "Lie back. I like to look at you."
Nick settles back, nervous again, too clear-headed. He needs Mr. C to overwhelm him, make his brain shut off. Every time he has a moment to stop and think, he remembers why he's here, and that he's here for six months. He basically sold his soul to the Devil (with a little help from his dad) to become a rock star. His only hope lies in surviving, getting out of here and going straight to an altar, maybe getting baptized again.
^^
END for now, but please let me know if you'd like more: llamabama@gmail.