Chuckjd's Words

a convenient dumping ground for my writing

Welcome to this!

Welcome to the newest home for my scribblings.  Hopefully you enjoy what you see and leave a comment while you’re at it!

BW Manics

Currently, the biggest thing going on around here is what I generally refer to as my “Epic.”  It’s a Manic Street Preachers fic I’ve been drivelling on about for almost 2 years.  I’ve been researching and fact-checking my heart out, trying to make it as accurate as possible with the reference materials available (Everything by Simon Price, MSPpedia, NME’s Uncut Collection).  With the basic timeline of reality,  I’ve written vignettes of what the scenes were probably like, with the addition of Nicky/Richey (which probably happened, anyway).

Of course, this would be too simple.  So there are alternate universes that curve around this one, and each other in some cases, to create a oddly woven tapestry of Manics history with a nagging sense of “what if?” throughout.

Using tags or categories, navigation should be quite simple (though at first may seem very complicated, which, I should be notified immediately if it doesn’t become easy and I’m just crazy).


  • EPIC: This tag is for all things relating to this fic.  Simply everything.
  • EPIC: ORIGINAL: When the story is the original story I planned and wrote, the one with Nicky and Richey as cannon, this tab will be the one attached.
  • EPIC: JAMES’ JEALOUSY: This tag denotes James/Richey as a sort of AU to the main, original timeline.  Set to be an extension of the original with James jealous of the Nicky/Richey.  Includes extensions to scenes and new events that depends heavily on the events in the original.
  • EPIC: JAMES STANDALONE: These are the James/Richey fics that exists on the general timeline if Nicky/Richey never happened, as if the original fic happened as is minus the slash leaving only the confirmed history.
  • EPIC: ALTEND: What if Richey took the others’ offer to step back from the band when he was in the Priory?  Would things be that different?

These may change a million times or never, it’s hard to tell.  This is all very new and I’ll have to test-drive this organization fully to know for sure.

A special note: this monstrosity will not be the only thing here (hopefully).  I have a few things that need to be typed up and beta’d that are in other fandoms entirely.  But that’s for another time entirely.


Filed under: Epic,


5 November, 1991 – 5:24 pm – “Love’s Sweet Exile” Shoot

The next shoot was long and arduous, as music videos tend to be, but the time was spent the best way possible: naked. Or at least, almost naked.

It was amazing that their ideas were approved and expanded on this time, since their previous video experience. The scandalous, if not positively sensational response from their last video and subsequent photo shoots gave them the carte blanche they needed to do whatever they pleased.

Instead of sneaking off to backstage corners to paw at each other, Nicky and Richey could do it on camera. Or, more specifically, they were told to. It was all part of their image now. The slightly androgynous, very homoerotic Glamour Twins (R) from the Welsh Valleys. And those two other blokes.

The Manics, as they were being called for short, were making a name for themselves. The music press was regularly writing articles and columns about them, their tones ranging from awe to disgust to hatred. But, as they were learning quickly in the music business, no press is bad press.

After the “4REAL” incident, as it was being called (much to Richey’s unhappiness), they were gaining notoriety. The notoriety may have come from their new wild “image,” but that was fine with them; anything to get someone to buy their album and listen to their message of political unrest and never-ending cultural boredom.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,


22 July, 1991 – 3:02 pm – “You Love Us” video shoot

“We have to get back,” Nicky whispered before Richey’s lips covered his own. Nicky pulled away, an amused Cheshire smile covering most of his face. “No – Really – They’re gonna notice – We’re gone-” Nicky was trying to get the words out around Richey’s incessant kisses.

It wasn’t physically difficult to fight off Richey’s small frame, but it took a lot of willpower. Before things got too far, reaching and surpassing the point of no return as they usually did quickly, Nicky slipped from between Richey and the wall and fixed his clothes. His hair stuck up in all directions, but it started out like that, so it was doubtful that anyone would notice.

Walking back, it was hard to keep their hands to themselves. Passing each other on the catwalk behind James on camera was sheer torture. They were already playing it up for the camera, but too much was too much. They already got their (Nicky’s) (ridiculous) idea, licking margarine from each other’s thighs, vetoed by the people in charge of such decisions. The suggestiveness of Nicky sucking on an ice lolly, Richey molesting his own image, and the two feeding each other (fake) oysters was enough for this shoot.

It was all part of their image, they justified. They had talked about how it would make a strong statement how they were so comfortable with each other and that would ring louder in a society that frowns upon such things. Of course, they would talk about shagging a new gaggle of groupies every night, knowing full well they came back to their hotel rooms alone, save for one another.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,


23 June, 1991 – 7:52 pm – The Hall Residence

Nicky hobbled into the dim room, buried under a towering pile of freshly laundered bedclothes from Terri. Richey cleared the way, making sure his path to the bed was hazard free. Nicky dropped the sheets, quilt, and pillow cases on the bare bed, letting them unfold and cover the bed. Richey grabbed the fitted sheet and walked around the bed to the other side. Holding onto a corner, he tossed the rest of the sheet at Nicky. The room was claustrophobically full of the scent of lavender and soap. Each of them took the corners and fitted them around the mattress.

“So,” Richey said, breaking the dutiful silence, “you think James has told Sean yet?”

Nicky shot straight up, caught himself, then went back to struggling with the pillow case stretched between his hands. “What?” Nicky asked, trying for nonchalance. Richey eyed him curiously. “Why would he do such a thing?”

Richey stopped unfolding the top sheet and squinted at him. “You make it sound like he’d be doing something wrong by telling Sean. James can keep a secret, but I think this is something he’d at least tell Sean.”

“At least? You make it sound like he’s telling everyone!” Nicky’s face went from normal, to pale, to red in a matter of seconds.

“Again, what’s so bad about that?” Richey said shrugging. “One less thing on my to do list.” He went back to straightening the sheet out to fit around the edges of the bed.

“It’s just- it’s just not his secret to tell, is all,” Nicky said, violently shaking the pillow into its case.

“What do you mean ‘secret’? We’re a secret?” Richey said, his hands falling to his sides. Nicky was afraid they would stop on Richey’s hips and Richey would look like Nicky’s mother when she got mad.

“That’s not what I mean,” Nicky said, trying to backtrack. “I just don’t see the point of making a big production and telling everyone. As long as we know, who cares?”

Richey sighed dramatically. It was the sound of the hole Nicky was digging collapsing on top of him. “Who cares?” Richey shook his head. “Mr. Attention doesn’t want any attention? Now why would that be?” He busied his hands with the sheets, trying to make them as tight as possible. “Are you ashamed of all this? Or, better yet, me?” Richey stood up, trying to look intimidating at his full height, which wasn’t much.

“Why are you so hell bent on making me out to be the bad guy here?” Nicky almost whined.

Richey threw down the sheets that had still been tucked into his small fists, stomping out of the room into the hall. His shoulders were raised in sharp peaks and his fists were tight white balls at his sides. He flung the bathroom door open and stormed inside, slamming it shut behind him. The sound of wood on wood exploded through the house, perking up the ears of the boys on the living room sofa, Philip in his armchair, and Terri in the kitchen. They all looked to each other, searching the resulting silence for what just happened. James and Sean glanced at one another, more knowing than the Halls.

Nicky sighed and finally followed Richey’s path down the hall. He avoided eye contact with the rest of the house, less out of embarrassment than just full-on determination to make a sincere apology.

With one slender knuckle, he rapped on the door quietly. “Please, let me in. Richey? Come on, I’m sorry. I’m a jerk. We should talk about it.” Nicky looked down at his stockinged feet. There was a hole forming at the big toe. He’d have to darn that when he got a chance. Dammit, focus, Nicky’s brain reminded him. “Well,” he started again, “we should talk about before, not the fact that I’m a jerk. That’s already common knowle-” Nicky was cut off by a small hand grabbing him by his collar and dragged him inside. Behind him, the door was slammed again and he was pushed flat against it. Though Richey was far smaller than Nicky, he could channel his strength just fine when he needed to. He held Nicky against the door and pulled his face down to his own, kissing him roughly. Stunned, Nicky could do nothing but go along with Richey’s physical manipulations. He got his senses back as Richey’s kiss became deeper and his hand started to tug at Nicky’s waistband. Richey brought his teeth into play, nipping and nibbling at Nicky’s lips and tongue. Richey mouth moved downward leaving a shiny trail of saliva.

“What… what’s…?” Nicky muttered, his lungs out of breath. Richey bit the side of his neck in reply, Nicky left hissing. Nicky couldn’t take it anymore, not knowing what exactly was going on and why, and reversed their positions, Richey’s back pressed against the door.

They were both breathing hard, staring into each other’s faces and searching each other’s eyes for what was next.

“I’m sorry,” Nicky finally said, taking his cure from a glint in Richey’s dark eyes. “I open my big mouth before my mind has time to make sure it’s what I want to say. You should know that.” Richey’s eyes left Nicky’s to stare at where Nicky’s collar bones met at Richey’s eye level. Nicky’s T-shirt was threadbare and faded, so the curves of the delicate bones could be seen underneath.

“All of this is so awkward and new, even after all this time,” Nicky sighed. “I just don’t know what to do.” He let his gaze drop to the top of Richey’s head.

Richey mumbled something deep in his chest. Nicky cocked his head to catch it to no avail. It sounded like the tone of an apology, but Nicky couldn’t’ be sure.

“What was that?”

Richey looked up into Nicky’s face, almost colliding the crown of his skull with Nicky’s mouth and nose. “I said,” he began and paused. He collected himself and continued. “I said I just wanted to be able to tell the whole world how happy I am.”

Nicky’s eyebrows rose. “The whole world?”

Richey smiled. “I’ll settle for the rest of the house. I want to be awful and cliché and talk about how much I love you all the time.”

Nicky inhaled quietly and held it. “You love me?” Nicky exhaled.

“Of course I do,” Richey said, starting to blush.

Nicky moved his hands to Richey’s shoulders. “No, I mean, do you love me love me?”

Richey nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Nicky’s face filled with a smile spanning both cheeks. His hands tightened on Richey’s shoulders as he pulled him in for a kiss.

“I… love… you… too…” Nicky gasped between kisses, the words almost too jumbled to understand.

The kiss became deeper and more impassioned. Nicky’s hands moved from Richey’s shoulders to Richey’s hips. Pressing Richey harder against the door, Nicky pulled their hips together, grinding rougher and rougher. Nicky hooked his hands around Richey’s bum, signaling him to hop up and wrap his legs around Nicky’s waist, which he followed enthusiastically with grace from lots of practice. The door shook from all their fevered movements, creaking obnoxiously.

“Bedroom?” Nicky asked against Richey’s lips. His trousers were far tighter than what could be considered comfortable by the smallest fellow.

“Bedroom,” Richey agreed, his mouth latching on Nicky’s throat.

Clinging to each other tightly, their passion never hitting the pause button, Nicky backed away from the door and opened it. With as much skill as he could muster (which wasn’t much on a good day), and as much leeway as his hard-on would give him (which was none), Nicky began to walk. He made it down the hall with not so much as a hitch, save for a knocked over pile of books and a few crooked picture frames.

The commotion brought the attention of the other occupants of the house. Again. They stared, dumbfounded and slack-jawed, at the two boys kissing wildly and stumbling to their bedroom. When their door was shut behind them, the others all looked at each other again, still wondering what was happening.

“See? I told you,” James whispered to Sean next to him on the sofa. Sean sneered at him and turned back to his video game just in time to see his character die.

“Look at what they made me do,” Sean huffed.

Back behind closed doors, Nicky and Richey were finally alone. Nicky unceremoniously dropped Richey on the bed and quickly started undoing his jeans and taking off his shirt. Richey did the same, but his pants got tangled on their way off. Nicky quickly came to his aid, getting Richey as naked as he had himself.

Richey was positioned against the pillows, still only half made. Nicky hovered above him, balancing on his hands planted on both sides of Richey’s head. He leaned down, kissing him only once.

“Say it again,” Nicky whispered in Richey’s ear, closing his teeth around the lobe softly.

Richey breathed a moan. “I love you.”

“Say it again,” Nicky repeated, his mouth moving down Richey’s jaw in sensuous kisses.

“I love you,” Richey moaned louder.

“I love you too,” Nicky replied. He captured Richey’s lips again, but did not pull back. He lowered his body onto Richey’s, their erections sliding languidly against each other. Richey clutched at Nicky’s hips, pulling himself off the bed to meet Nicky as hard and fully as possible.

“I want you inside me right now,” Richey said breathlessly. Nicky’s eyes lit up at Richey’s confident insistence. He mouthed Richey’s neck some more before roughly flipping Richey onto his stomach. Richey moaned softly as Nicky gently covered Richey with his body again. Nicky kissed a trail from the corner of Richey’s jaw, down his neck, and across his shoulders. His hands followed his lips and then went further. They smoothed down Richey’s sides, tracing the ribs.

“You’re getting so thin,” Nicky said into Richey’s hair. There was no tone of judgment or condescension; it was only a simple observation. He gripped Richey’s hips, guiding him to his knees. Richey kept his head on the pillow, black hair creating a strange halo, and his hands folded underneath. The curve of his spine made Nicky’s mouth water. Before he could come from just the sight of Richey’s backside, he grabbed the lube from the nightstand and popped the lid. He applied the thick liquid generously over his cock and fingers, enough to ready Richey as well.

Richey was already relaxed, so Nicky’s fingers slipped in easily. He lined his cock up with Richey’s entrance and leaned in to whisper, “Ready?”

Richey stretched toward Nicky and nodded in the newly clean smelling pillowcase.

Nicky slid inside, reaching the hilt in one smooth, steady, and slow movement. Richey groaned at the fullness and pushed back, urging Nicky to keep moving.

Nicky started with a slow pace, building up speed with every thrust. Before long, he was slamming inside of Richey, the sounds of labored breathing, skin slapping skin, and the creaky old bed filling the small room, but not limiting itself to their room.

The sounds floated down the hall to the living room, where dull thumps could be heard. Sean frowned disgustedly and turned the volume of his game louder. James closed his eyes and grimaced.

Philip looked up from his book over his glasses, puzzled. “Are they really…” he began to ask, trailing off because the question, and its answer, was obvious. Terri brought her teacup down from her lips and nodded solemnly.

“Who knew about this?” Philip asked, shock still covering his face.

Sean pointed at James and James pointed back at Sean. Philip sighed and rubbed his brow with eyes closed. He shook his head, “Turn the telly up.”

Back in the bedroom at the end of the hall, Richey was mumbling into his pillow.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. Love you. I love you. Love you. Love you,” was his continuous mantra. Nicky could feel the smile overtaking his face and his grip on Richey’s hips becoming tighter. He was close, so close, only a few more thrusts would get him there.

“Love you,” Nicky chokingly responded, holding his final thrust inside Richey. Richey’s fists were wrapped tightly in the pillow cases around him. His back rose and fell heavily.

Nicky slid out his soft penis, pulling out easily. He rolled off of Richey and Richey slid from his knees to his side, facing Nicky. His erection pointed between them, uncomfortably hard. Nicky rolled over and grabbed Richey’s face between his hands, kissing him and passionately. His hand left Richey’s face as they stared into each other’s eyes, noses brushing as Nicky’s hand started to move on Richey’s erection.

“Come,” Nicky said simply. Richey could only stare and breathe harder, his eyes flicking between Nicky’s soft eyes and Nicky’s slack mouth. Richey’s eyes were far off, glazed over with intense and drawn out arousal. His lips were parted slightly, and his hot breath filled the space between their faces.

The tingling pleasure surged through his groin quickly, and escaped through his throat as stronger and stronger moans.

“FUCK ME!” he screamed, arching his back and closing his eyes. He came over Nicky’s hand, wrist, and the sheet below.

In the living room, Sean threw down his controller and stood up. “Goddammit!” he grumbled, mumbling other assorted curses as he stopped off to the back door, outside to the garden. James watched him go and glanced back at the Halls. Their faces were white and still staring down the hallway. As soon as they noticed James’ eyes on them, they busied themselves with what they had been trying to do before Richey’s… “outburst.”

The sweaty humidity of the small room, made damp with heaving breaths, was already starting to disperse by the time either of the men started to speak.

“You need to get cross at me more often,” Nicky said breathlessly with a slight laugh. Richey smiled dreamily.

“You know what this means, then,” Richey asked.

Nicky turned his head to look over at Richey. Richey returned his gaze and… was he blushing?

“I guess we don’t have to tell anyone about anything now. Because if all that didn’t get it in their heads, there’s no use.”

Nicky covered his face with his clean hand in a mix of mock and true embarrassment.

Behind the muffling of his palm, Nicky lamented, “The fresh sheets. We’ve soiled them.”

“Again,” Richey added.

“Terri must hate us.”

“Right now, I think everyone does,” said Richey.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,


16 May, 1991 – 12:33 am – Leaving the Norwich gig

The blood was quickly seeping through the makeshift towel bandages and starting to stain Richey’s white Levis. Richey’s head was on Nicky’s shoulder and Nicky’s arm was tightly around him. They huddled next to each other on the last bench seat in the back of the van. James was in the front seat with Philip, who was frantically trying to get to the nearest hospital in the area without getting lost. Sean had opted out of the trip, preferring to be dropped off at the hotel with some chips rather than being a passenger on Richey’s wild ride (now with more blood and gore!).

The van was quiet, save for Philip’s constant mumbling of street names and insults at other drivers, and tense. Philip was preoccupied, so James just stared out his window at the passing cars and street lights.

“That was brilliant,” Nicky whispered into Richey’s hair. He could feel Richey begin to smile against his shoulder. “That journo’s face was great. You’re going to make every paper in Britain!”

Richey’s face fell and he sat up.

“What’s the matter?” Nicky asked, his brow knitting.

Richey looked lost in his thoughts. He surfaced and said, “That’s not why I did it.”

“Who cares why you did it?” Nicky said, beginning to chuckle in disbelief. “You just got us amazing amounts of publicity.”

Richey frowned. “I was trying to prove a point.”

“Well, I think you accomplished that,” Nicky yelped.

“You all right back there?” James asked, turning around to face the backseat. Both of them spun to look at him, eyes wide and bodies stiff.

“No-, nothing wrong back here,” Nicky blurted. “Everything’s peachy.”

James could do nothing but stare. “Yeah, I’ll say,” he mumbled to himself, turning around and returning his head to its place against the passenger window.

Richey glared at Nicky, silently chiding him for his anxious and obvious cover-ups.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,


13 March, 1991 – 12:21 am – Philip Hall’s House

Nicky awoke to Richey kissing his neck. He stretched, turning towards the kisses and opened his eyes enough to glance at the clock. 12:21 am.

“Mmm,” Nicky mumbled, pulling Richey’s face up to his own. He closed his eyes again and found Richey’s lips by touch. They kissed slowly and lazily. Their shared personal bubble against the world made of the sheets around them was gloriously warm, and they were mindful to keep themselves inside of it.

They ended their kiss, pulling their faces apart to turn their bodies and better face each other. They were forehead to forehead when they finally stopped moving.

“What’re you doing up?” Nicky asked, his voice deep and heavy from sleep. His breathing was still slow and even as if he hadn’t yet woken up. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe it was just a wonderful dream.

Richey nuzzled his nose against Nicky’s, pulling Nicky’s hips toward his. Nicky could feel Richey’s hard-on tenting his boxers against Nicky’s thigh. Nicky smiled. That was enough of a response.

Nicky pulled Richey’s hips even closer to his own, gripping his hip bones. Richey loved the way Nicky couldn’t keep his hands away from the sharp hip bone handles at his sides. The tightness of Nicky’s fingers digging into his skin drove him wild. Nicky pressed his growing erection against Richey’s, rubbing against him slightly. He captured Richey’s lips in a slow, yet passionate kiss. Their tongues lazily explored each other’s mouths. Richey’s hand snaked down between them, slipping under the elastic of Nicky’s boxers. Nicky’s breath caught as Richey wrapped his hand around Nicky’s erection.

“Fuck, that’s good,” Nicky said quietly as Richey got a rhythm going. It was slow and tender, drawing out the sensations on every nerve.

Richey leaned into Nicky, building up his nerve, and whispered in his ear. “Would you fuck me?”

Nicky’s eyes flew open, and his hand let go of Richey’s hip so he could grab Richey’s hand and keep it from moving anymore. His breathing was becoming ragged, and he turned his head to look into Richey’s face.

“W-what?” Nicky stuttered. His eyes were wide with surprise.

Richey took a deep breath. “I, uh, well, I was just thinking that we’ve never… you know, and I was thinking about it, and I wanted to ask you if you would-”

“Fuck you?” Nicky squeaked, cutting Richey off.

“If you don’t want to, I’d totally understand. Actually, it’s a dumb idea, just forget I said-”

Nicky kissed Richey hard, knocking their teeth together. They adjusted and ignored the brief pain, too excited to care. They pulled at each other’s clothing, willing everything to come off instantly. It was a bit of a struggle, but they were soon both naked, skin against skin. They rolled around until Richey was on his back and Nicky was above him, leaning on his elbows.

“Are you sure about this?” Nicky asked, his brow knit with nervous worry.

Richey nodded, carding his fingers through Nicky’s hair.

“I’ve never done this sort of thing before, you know.”

“Of course I know that,” Richey said calmly. “Neither have I. If you’re unsure, we don’t have to.”

Nicky leaned down to kiss him. “I want to, I just don’t want to hurt you or do it wrong or something.”

Richey rubbed his hands up and down Nicky’s sides reassuringly. “We’ll get it right, don’t worry.” Richey smiled into the darkness.

Nicky leaned over to the nightstand, pulling out a tube of lube.

“How do you want to do this?” Nicky asked nervously, but there was excitement bubbling close to the surface.

“Give me that,” Richey directed, taking the lead, because he knew Nicky never would. He took the tube and squeezed a bit too much into his hands. He dropped the lube back on the nightstand, not noticing it slowly leaking all over the surface. Nicky’s eyes followed his every movement, and he bought his hand down between them. He carefully grabbed Nicky’s cock, coating it generously with the cool liquid. Nicky tensed at the temperature, but relaxed soon after Richey started moving his hand.

Nicky’s jaw hung open, his eyes starting to blur and lose focus. “If you want me to actually get around to fucking you, pl-please stop.” Richey listened, and Nicky hung his head, catching his breath.

While Nicky steadied himself, Richey reached between his legs, using the extra lube on himself.

“What ‘re you doin’?” asked Nicky.

Richey looked up at him. “Are you serious?”

Nicky’s chest was expanding and deflating exaggeratedly. He shook his head and positioned himself better, balancing on his hands. “Are you ready?”

Richey wiped his hand on part of the sheet and scooted down the bed. He bent his knees upward, letting them fall apart as far as he could stretch. He took a deep breath and finally nodded at Nicky. Nicky guided himself with his left hand to Richey’s hole, pressing forward slowly. Richey’s face tightened from the pain of Nicky pushing inside. He tried his best to not let the discomfort show, but this pain was much different than the pain he was used to.

“You okay?” Nicky whispered.

Richey nodded frantically. He wrapped his arms around Nicky, his hands meeting between Nicky’s shoulder blades. “Just keep going,” replied Richey, his voice strained.

Nicky did what he was told and pushed on, doing everything in his power not to move too fast. Richey was tighter than Rachel ever was, and it was difficult to keep his head about things. It felt like he was sinking into forever, never to find the end. When his hips finally met the backs of Richey’s thighs, he sighed with relief. He held there, catching his brain up with the new sensations. He had had sex before many times, but it never felt like this.

Richey looked into Nicky’s face, and they locked eyes. This was as close as they could ever be, and the importance of this fact was not lost on either of them. Timidly, as if they had never kissed before, Nicky lowered his lips to Richey’s. Richey responded instantly, enjoying the feel of something other than stretching pain. He could push it out of his mind as long as he had Nicky’s lips to distract him.

When he felt Richey responding more and more, his pained movements becoming smoother, Nicky started to pull out and push back in little by little. The rhythm was slow and precise. The amount he moved was greater and greater with each thrust, quickening his pace as well. Richey wrapped his legs around Nicky’s back and let his fingernails drag across his shoulder blades.

And suddenly there was a voice in his head. He’ll hurt you someday. Hurt you real bad, said the voice. It was James, and he echoed throughout Nicky’s cranium, capturing his attention.

“You okay?” Richey asked between heavy breaths, his mouth shining from their extended kisses.

Nicky looked down at him, not realizing he had slowed down considerably. He pushed James out of his consciousness and started his timed thrusts again. James didn’t know anything anyway.

He was so hard, and Richey was so tight, he didn’t know how long he was going to be able to last. He adjusted his balance, and then took Richey’s penis in his right hand. He didn’t wait to build up a rhythm and started to jerk him off fast and hard right away. Richey was quietly moaning, not wanting the whole house to hear.

“Nick, Nick, Nick, Nick…” Richey chanted as his orgasm neared. Nicky’s ego couldn’t have felt better.

He thrust harder, trying to match his hand’s every downward slide. He could feel the tingling warmth pooling in his abdomen. It wouldn’t be long now.

Without warning Richey came, covering Nicky’s hand, chest, and Richey’s chest with silvery lines. He clenched around Nicky, who lasted through two more thrusts before losing it, coming inside Richey. He whispered Richey’s name as he came, and then flopped down onto Richey, the come slick and sticky between them. It was an awful feeling, but their bodies were lifeless, and they couldn’t feel to care.

Nicky slipped out of Richey, and Richey winced slightly from the odd feeling of emptiness. Nicky rolled off of him and limply lay next to him.

Their lungs worked in double time, coming down from, probably, the best orgasms of their lives. They stared at the ceiling, flat on their backs, seeing stars.

“So… that was…” Nicky started.

“Amazing,” Richey finished.

Nicky nodded, “Yeah, that.”

They laid in silence for a while, content.

Richey tried to turn over to face Nicky, but groaned in pain instead.

“Did I hurt you?” Nicky asked worriedly.

Richey shook his head and smiled. “Nothing that shouldn’t go away with a good night’s sleep.”

Nicky smiled back, kissing Richey quickly before rolling off the bed. He rummaged though the dark, finding his boxer shorts and slipped them on. Careful not to make the floor or doors creak, Nicky snuck to the bathroom and returned with a moistened towel. He wiped Richey off first before turning the towel on himself.

“Thanks,” Richey said, still uncomfortably still on the bed. When Nicky came back, he stripped his boxers, softly settled into the bed next to Richey, and tenderly put his arms around Richey. Richey did his best to snuggle against him while most of him ached and didn’t want to move.

“Thanks,” Nicky echoed, but for an all together different reason.

They fell asleep curled around each other and bundled under the blankets.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,

1991/03/12 07:38pm

12 March, 1991 – 7:38 pm – Philip Hall’s House

When they got back to Philip’s place, they quietly left the van, still not looking at one another.

They left the van packed to make tomorrow easier. No use packing things twice. It had taken them long enough to get the perfect Tetris-like balance to everything the first time.

Terri greeted them with a warm smile and open arms. They each hugged her out of duty and trudged into the house, their bags dragging behind them. Philip kissed his wife, watching the boys’ lifeless parade.

“What’s wrong with them?” she asked.

Philip shrugged and followed them inside.

They retreated to their rooms, tired after all the nothing they had done all day. The sun had just started to set, so at least the darkness was on their side for sleep. Philip left them alone, too drained to try and talk to them and have them listen. He retreated to his own room, shutting the door. He probably wouldn’t be sleeping so soon, but working out the finances and things like a manager usually does.

James gave Nicky and Richey one last glance and eyebrow raise as he stepped into his room, closing the door behind him. Nicky and Richey secluded themselves in their room, setting their bags down and then engulfing each other in a long awaited embrace. They kissed chastely at first, then more passionately. They moved to the bed, trying to get on it without breaking their kiss, but it was too difficult. They ripped their shoes and overclothes off, huddling under the covers together for warmth after losing all their winter layers.

They kissed again, but the needy lust was gone. They were content to hold each other and close their eyes. This was what Richey had dreamed of the ride home, and he was glad dreams came true sometimes. At least when you really needed them.

They settled in, arms and legs wrapped around each other, ready to sleep and unable to do much else.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,

1991/03/12 02:12pm

12 March, 1991 – 2:12 pm – Driving to London from Newcastle

Due to James’ inability to wake up properly after hammering himself into the ground the night before, and the fact that the next gig wasn’t for another day, they got a very late start. It was long after the noon hour when they finally got on the road, the back of the van packed tightly and the band piled into the backseat. Philip, their manager, was in the front seat.

Right behind the front seat sat Nicky and Richey. They did their best to not look at each other or touch, sitting as far apart as possible. James was behind Richey in the third row of seats, pretending to look out the window while glancing at his bandmates in front of him. Nicky and James would catch eyes occasionally, quickly looking away. Richey was lucky enough to be sitting directly in front of James, so they never had any weird looks exchanged, but he still had to avoid Nicky’s eyes because James would definitely notice that.

Sean was huddled into a corner on the third bench seat next to James. He had his Walkman on full blast and stared out the window, softly drumming out beats and rhythms on his thighs. He, along with the front seat, was oblivious to the weird tension and blushing embarrassment going on around him. Not that he would’ve really cared much anyway. Drama and scandals weren’t his thing.

They were already halfway through their five-hour ride when Philip decided to talk again. The car had been silent since they had settled in, and it was almost to the point of disturbing. Philip had credited the hard partying and exhaustive show they had given last night to the drain in conversation. What he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him, it seemed.

“So, if I haven’t already told you guys, we’re going back home before the gig tomorrow night. You’ll be able to sleep in your own beds, which you must be very excited about.” Philip rambled on, even though he knew no one was really listening. Or at least he thought.

At the mention of beds, sleeping, and the implication of sleeping together (something they were forced to do in those beds, seeing there was no room not to), James, Nicky, and Richey all fidgeted, looking out the window or at the floor of the van. Sean wasn’t listening and Philip didn’t notice.

“The next gig is at the London Marquee, and it’s going to be pretty big. From what I understand, tickets have been selling well, not to put any pressure on you guys or anything. You guys have been doing great, so I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Noticing that no one was even looking in his general direction anymore, he quit talking and went back to driving.

Richey settled himself against the window and chose to fall asleep for the next few hours rather than deal with the awkwardness that was the interior of the van anymore. He spread out a little, careful not to stretch too far and touch Nicky, even though all he wanted to do was curl up against him. Stupid James. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep quickly, dreaming about Nicky’s warmth and falling asleep with him soon.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,

1991/03/12 02:24am

12 March, 1991 – 2:24 am – Metro Inns Newcastle

James wasn’t lying about going to the bar. If Nicky were to take a guess, he drank everything at the bar. And then some. From every bar on the street.

Sean was up in his room, asleep or playing with his Game Boy or Walkman, knowing him. Richey disappeared to walk around the city, promising to come back later. That left Nicky with James. He found him in the hotel bar, practically falling off his stool, slurring, and smiling like an idiot. He had made friends with some random barfly who was as drunk as he was. They had been shouting excitedly at each other, acting like old friends.

Nicky hated drunks sometimes.

The bar reeked of stale cigarettes and cheap cigars. It was almost painful to breathe the air, so Nicky intended to be quick about getting James and getting out.

James could not walk, and his arm was heavy over Nicky’s shoulder. If there was an epicentre to the smoky smell, it had to be James. It was as if his clothes were made of smoke that refused to dissipate. Nicky winced. He kept his arm wrapped around James at armpit level, steadying him by holding on to James’ hand with his free one. James would not shut up.

“W-we were talkin’ ‘bout politics, kinda like, y’know, the way we do, and he was crazzzzy. His views are s-skewed. I dun like ‘em, but he was goo’ talkin’ to.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. “I bet he was. Now let’s get you up to your room and pour you into bed. You’re gonna need it for tomorrow.”

James groaned and burped, the smell of beer and harder alcohol on his breath mingling with the stagnant smell of cigarettes.



“Don’t let him fuck you u-up.” His voice was as serious as a stuttering drunk could make it. He stopped helping Nicky move him, and turned his head to try and look Nicky in the face. He craned his neck as far as he could.

Nicky looked down at his bloodshot eyes and tried to smile. “All right, James, I won’t. Now we have to keep walking and get you upstairs.”

“I’m s-serious! You’re- you’re an adult, and I know that. Richey’s one too. I can’t tell you what to do, because you’re an ad-adult, but I can tell you to be careful. Because tha-that is what I can tell you.”

Nicky tried to ignore him, to take everything he was saying as drunk talk, but he knew that James could still attempt to make sense when he was beyond inebriated. It was one of his many and unique talents. Instead, he continued to drag him in the direction of the elevator, listening.

“You two are total opposites. It won’t be easy. You guys are like fire and water. Or pasta and antipasta.”


James leaned against the wall as Nicky pressed the up button on the elevator. The elevator made rumbling noises, but it was still a few floors away. They would have to wait.

“Y’know wha’ I’m talkin’ ‘bout. I love you, man, and I love Richey too. Y’know, not like you and Richey might love each other, but I still do, even if I won’t say it when I don’t have a couple dozen pints in me. You guys are like my brothers, and I watch out for you. And Richey fucks up the people he gets close to. I jus’ dun wanna see you hurt, s’all.”

The elevator dinged, its doors opening. Luckily it was empty, but that was to be expected at such an hour. Nicky shuffled James into the small box’s interior and pressed the button for their floor.

“I’m glad you’re watching out for me, but Richey couldn’t hurt a fly, and you know that.”

“He got my jaw broken.”

Nicky laughed. “You’re blaming him for that? He didn’t even touch you, you were just acting like the big man to save the day.”

“Yeah, an’ if I hadn’t, he’d ‘ve gotten his sk-skull busted in. I had to do something. B-but I got my jaw wired shut for half a year!” The fervor in his voice was canceled out by the fact that he was slowly slipping down the wall to the floor, his legs turning to jelly.

Nicky dragged him back up the wall and pinned him there with his hip so he would stay still. “You can’t say that that was his fault. You were a noble guy for stepping in and saving him like that, but you can’t say it was his fault. You were just in the wrong McDonald’s at the wrong time.”

James shook his head. “But it only serves to prove my p-point. You try to help him, you get close to him, whatever, and you’re des’ined to end up hurt. Physically or emotionally.”

The doors opened to their floor and Nicky propped up James to better be his crutch. They walked together, which looked more like a stumbling limp, and stood in front of James and Sean’s door.

“Just remember what I say. He’ll hurt you someday. Hurt you real bad.”

Nicky sighed again, frustration beginning to grow in his chest. He leaned James against the door jamb. “Where’s your key?”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. Where’s your key?”

James tried to shrug without losing his balance, but failed. He started to slide to his left, and Nicky had to catch him before he made it to the ground. Losing hope in James miraculously remembering where he stashed his room key, he knocked on the door. Sean had to be home. Probably asleep, but home.

There was the sound of sheets and muffled footsteps before the door flew open, almost taking James with it.

“What?” Sean squinted at Nicky, taking a glance at James, nodding as if he was the answer to his question.

“He lost his room key,” Nicky said simply, finally rid of the responsibility that was James.

Sean grabbed James, pulling him inside and nodding a goodnight in Nicky’s general direction. Nicky walked down the hall to his and Richey’s room, wondering if Richey would actually be there.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,


11 March, 1991 – 11:13 pm – Newcastle Riverside

He could feel the rough brick wall through his thin, spray paint-stained t-shirt, the uneven and messy mortar digging into his pale, sweaty flesh. He was pressed tightly against it, the sandy concrete probably ripping holes in his shirt, if not his skin. But that pain wasn’t at the forefront of his mind at that moment (not that pain really got his attention anymore anyway), it was the crushing of lips and the crotch of his jeans becoming too tight to handle that he was really paying attention to.

Richey ran his fingers through Nicky’s hair, letting them catch in the few tangles and creating more as he pulled. With every tug on his hair, Nicky’s grip on Richey’s hips tightened. He held him against the wall firmly, grinding excitedly. He moved as if he didn’t know where to touch next, wanting to touch everywhere at once, unable to decide where to start.

Richey’s legs were tangled around Nicky’s waist, held up only by the pressure of their bodies together and Nicky’s large, spindly hands. He held so tight, Richey was sure he was leaving bruises. He liked the feel of his grip so much; he couldn’t wait to have Nicky kiss those bruises away. Later, he told himself. When they got back to their room, there would be time for everything, and they wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

Breathing labored, their mouths were fused together in a fevered war. It was an imperfect kiss, teeth clanging and the like, but the adrenaline rush from coming off stage was enough to make up for it. The gig had been good, but the audience was what made it. They were crazy, screaming along, jumping up and down, crashing into each other. These were the people that got them going. They made the rush all worth it, and with all of them screaming your name, you had to feel at least a little high from it.

They were in a dark corner backstage, away from hot stage lights and other people, cast, crew, or otherwise. They could still hear the crowd mumbling while the dull shuffle of feet went in the direction of the doors and outside.

Richey let his hand slip from Nicky’s scalp down to the front of Nicky’s jeans, sloppily attempting to undo the button fly. His fingers were fumbling. He couldn’t break his concentration from Nicky’s hot mouth and penetrating tongue.

Footsteps down the hall, coming closer, ended the messy makeout session all too soon. Both of them went still, looking into each other’s faces for what to do next.

“Nick?” came James’ voice over the dull drone of the main dressing rooms and roadies clearing out.

“Nicky? Have you seen Rich?” he yelled.

As if someone had set them on fire, Nicky and Richey disentangled, smoothing hair, clothes, and buttoning flies. The fact that there were matching bulges in the fronts of their jeans was not the main issue, it seemed. No sooner did they pulled apart than James rounded the corner. He stopped abruptly, letting his eyes wander back and forth between their faces before speaking. They were standing straighter than rails, nervously stiff, as if waiting for military inspection.

“I knew you’d know where he was,” was all that James could say. It was the only thing his mind would let him comprehend at the moment. In times of shock, the mind has great defense mechanisms, and James was finding out how well his worked.

Richey scratched his head absently, trying not to be obvious about staring at the floor. Nicky was too frozen to stare at anything at the moment. Richey scuffed his shoe against the floor absently.

The far off murmur of voices seemed to get louder as the uncomfortable seconds passed. Needing to clean up such a messy situation, Nicky snapped to his senses, threw an arm around James’ bare shoulders, and walked him back down the hall that he had come from, blithering about the gig and other nonsense, ignoring any reason why James may have come to look for him and Richey in the first place.

When they were gone, Nicky’s ramblings blending in with the undistinguishable voices of the crowd toward the stage, Richey let out the breath he had been holding. He rubbed his eyes and leaned against the rough brick. This was not something he needed to be dealing with right now. Shit.

“Tonight’s gig was a great gig. The audience was really into everything. I didn’t think that many people would show up. At least we put on a tight set for them. I really think we played a tight set, don’t you? Tightest one so far and they’re only destined to get tighter. That’s what they say, you know. I don’t know who they are, but-”

“Nicky!” James blurted, breaking Nicky’s careful concentration and one-breath-fueled run-on thought.

He stared at James, eyes wide and mouth pulled tight and small. He didn’t say another word, and actually looked as if he had stopped breathing all together. James almost laughed.

“Nick, you don’t have to do this-” James said, gesturing between them, “-this… nervous babbling. It’s not going to change what happened and make it go away.” James’ voice was in gentle mode, the tone he usually reserved for defenseless children, old ladies, and Richey. It was as motherly as the man could sound, which he was actually pretty good at.

Nicky’s eyes darted to James’ face, startled. He looked as if someone had just made him watch a puppy getting kicked. “What? What happened? Nothing happened.” He pulled his arm away, looking pale.

James shook his head and sighed. “You know what? We don’t have to talk about it. When you want to talk about it-no details please, because that would just be too much-you know where to find me. I’m going to the pub.” He smiled crookedly, reaching up to slap Nicky on the shoulder. “Tell lover boy to join me if he feels up to it.” He turned and walked away.

James paused for a second, then called over his shoulder, “Or doesn’t have previously made plans.”

Nicky’s face turned the brightest red a face can turn without causing a stroke or heart attack and his stomach plummeted the dizzying height from its regular position to his feet. He could hear James chuckle. Fuck.

Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,

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