Fandom: Backstreet Boys
Pairing: AJ McLean/Howie Dorough
Word Count: 345
Prompt: 038 "Touch"
Rating: PG-13 (AJ-ish language)
Author's Note: Title taken from a Sheryl Crow song.
He hates the look in AJ's eyes. It's more than just pain; it's dismay and anger.
"Why the fuck would some idiot throw a friggin' glowstick on a stage! Why? It's almost... inconceivable, dammit!"
He crosses the room and sets the cold can of Pepsi on the bedside table, silently agreeing with AJ, but, seriously, how was voicing the very same opinion going to make any of this much better? Instead, he kneels on the floor beside AJ's bed and gently peels off the black sock.
"You need to get someone to repolish your nails." He bends over and places a tiny kiss on the tip of AJ's big toe. "I can call Leighanne in. She'd do it for you."
AJ shrugs and sighs and reaches for the pack of cigarettes behind the soda can. "Can't you do it, D? I really don't feel like acting all happy and grateful and shit."
Howie prods gently with his fingertips at the swollen flesh and then winces when AJ swears under his breath. He bends and places a whispery kiss there too.
"Not tonight, Alex. I will tomorrow though, if you want... if it doesn't hurt as much."
He rises and moves across the room to pull the drapes closed.
"Howie... it hurts so bad."
There's rustling and a soft grunt coming from the bed and Howie turns in time to see AJ trying to balance an ashtray on his belly and get his foot resituated more comfortably on a pillow. He smiles sympathetically and crawls onto the bed beside him, taking the ashtray and holding it in his palm as AJ flops back against the pillows.
"Tell me what to do to make you feel better."
AJ turns his head, locks his gaze on Howie's and while he's not nearly ready to crack a smile, he does suddenly feel a lot less pissed off.
"Just don't go." He stretches out his arm and his fingertips rest on Howie's cheek.
Howie smiles more from AJ's tender touch and moves closer.
"Nowhere else I'd rather be."
