Title: When You Need Me
Author: Melvira
Feedback: melvira@cfl.rr.com
Pairing: Howie/Nick
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction - it‘s NOT REAL!
Warning: RPS - Real Person Slash


When You Need Me
by Melvira


Nick was a liar, and Howie knew it. Nick said he never cried, but that was only half-true. He just never cried in front of anyone. Anyone but Howie, that is.

To everyone else, Nick kept a poker face. He clenched his fists at his sides and tried not to swing them. And Howie would know, and touch Nick's shoulder, or grab his hand. And Nick would relax, smile, maybe even laugh a little. Howie could always do that -- just touch him and make him feel like everything was going to be okay. Then Nick would look into those big puppy eyes and know that it would be.

Brian and Kevin had stopped being fun when they got married, and AJ was always busy with the flavor of the week, so it was to Howie that Nick turned when he felt like the world was crashing down around him. Nick trusted Howie enough to cry in front of him.

Nick couldn't even remember when it started, only that he'd ended up in Howie's room one night with stinging eyes and his chest aching from holding in the sobs. Howie had held him, stroking his hair and his back and rocking him like a child. And when Nick could finally breathe without sobbing and glanced up, Howie looked terrified.

Nick couldn't help but laugh. "I'm okay. Really. I just...needed that."

The panic bled slowly from Howie's eyes, replaced with wary relief. He squeezed Nick one last time and handed him the box of tissues from the nightstand. Nick blew his nose loudly and they both laughed. Nick suddenly felt like he could conquer the world. Howie's eyes told him that he could if he wanted to. He kissed Howie's scratchy cheek and stood up.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?"

"I won't." And Nick knew he wouldn't.

Howie became Nick's safety net, the one who caught him every time he took a misstep on the tightrope they were all walking. Usually, Nick would leave as soon as he stopped crying and got his shit together. He would go to a club and have a few drinks and dance off the leftover shreds of sadness, of anger and frustration. He would come back to the hotel and fall into exhausted, dreamless sleep.

Sometimes, when the nights were impossibly dark and the only thing that reassured him that the morning would come were Howie's eyes, Nick didn't want to leave. He would lay his head in Howie's lap and Howie would trace Nick's face with his fingertips, and Nick would doze off. Sometimes Howie would kiss his forehead, and Nick loved when he did that. It was those little things that made Howie so comforting -- the tell-all eyes, the tiny gestures of intimacy, the quiet strength.

The night that Nick couldn't stop crying changed everything. Some stupid thing had pissed him off, and by the time they got to the hotel and Nick made it to Howie's room, he was shaking. He shut the door behind him, pressed his back to it and slid down to the floor. Howie was off the bed in no time flat, wrapping strong arms around him and holding Nick's head against his shoulder. Nick's breathing was harsh and ragged against Howie's neck, tears dripping onto Howie's shirt.

Every time Nick thought he'd stopped, he took a deep breath and started all over again. Nick knew he was probably freaking out Howie, but he couldn't stop. If he tried, it only made him cry harder. Finally he lifted his head, and Howie's lips bumped against his.

Howie started to mumble something that sounded like "sorry," but Nick cut him off, pressing his lips to Howie's again. It just seemed like the right thing to do, like it was the last thing that might keep him from going completely over the edge. Howie's mouth was soft and warm, Howie's hands heavy on Nick's shoulders.

Nick wrapped his arms around Howie's waist and tugged him closer, cautiously sliding his tongue into Howie's mouth. Howie pulled back and Nick's heart skipped. For a second Nick thought he was going to cry again, thinking that he'd made a huge mistake. He pushed Howie away and stood up, went to the window and parted the curtain a little. Howie came up behind him and rested his head against Nick's back, arms slipping around Nick's stomach.

Nick felt Howie's lips between his shoulder blades and wanted to cry again. He turned around and saw Howie's eyes and did start crying again. Howie pulled Nick closer and Nick bent his head to kiss him, the stubble on Howie's chin scratching his face. They kissed searchingly, exploring the unfamiliar wet heat of each other's mouths like they had all the time in the world.

They landed on the bed in a heap of tangled limbs and sweaty skin, tongues sliding over jaws and behind ears, hands skating over arms and stomachs. It was enough to just kiss and caress and hold each other, until Nick stopped crying long enough to break away. Howie was breathing hard, but his eyes were calm. Nick sighed and nuzzled his head in the crook of Howie's neck and Howie hugged him tight.

"Can I stay in here tonight?"

"Sure, if you want." Howie's lips brushed Nick's forehead. "Howie?" Nick raised his head a little and saw that Howie's eyes were closed.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Howie's lips curled into a sleepy smile. "Any time. You know I'm always here when you need me."

***

Eventually kissing wasn't enough. It still stopped the tears, but not the quiet ache that had begun to infest Nick's body like a cancer. And Howie, like he always did, knew just how to make it better. He laid Nick back on his bed and undressed him slowly, leaving warm little kisses wherever his hands touched. Then Howie's tongue was in his mouth again and Howie was stroking him, trying to be gentle, making sure that Nick felt safe and not scared.

When Nick came, he laughed, and Howie's hand faltered. He looked up and saw Howie's red face, but Howie wouldn't meet his eyes. Nick laid his hand on Howie's cheek and Howie finally raised his eyes. For once, they were hard to read. Nick kissed him again, ran his hand down Howie's stomach and under the waistband of Howie's boxers.

"You don't have to-" Howie started, but his hips were already rocking slightly against Nick's hand.

"I want to."

Howie came quietly, just a soft little moan that tickled against Nick's lips.

"I'm here when you need me, too," Nick whispered.

***

Sometimes Nick wondered if he didn't purposely freak out over the small things, working himself into a tizzy so he could go to Howie's room and Howie's arms, to be reminded that things were never as bad as he thought they were. And without fail Howie was there for him, to kiss and stroke away the tears. And Nick was there for Howie, to make the nights shorter and less lonely, to be a friend and a lover and anything else Howie wanted him to be, because Howie was everything to him. A few faked tears were worth it to be everything in return.