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He tries to keep it on the DL as long as he can, because Nick takes every single thing in the world too seriously, and this kind of thing will inevitably upset him, but Joe doesn't really care about sports.
He just... he doesn't get it. Running around is fun, sure, and hitting stuff with sticks can be pretty awesome too, but winning, throwing yourself mercilessly into the pursuit of victory like Nick seems to think is the only way to approach any sport, any competition? That kind of commitment Joe just doesn't get.
At least not when hitting a ball with a stick is concerned.
He's never cared about sports, but he's always cared about Nick. So for years, Joe joins Nick's softball teams, his peewee hockey leagues and plays in the basketball tournaments he organizes every summer with all the other neighborhood kids. He puts up with Nick barking instructions and corrections on Joe's play, stands with his elbows out and pretends to listen while Nick lectures him on the proper stance for the latest position he tries to put Joe in, always searching for Joe's sport, Joe's place. He endures Nick's pats on the shoulder and bracing pep-talks about how he'll get better, and he does it all with a smile on his face, because he's with Nick, because he knows it makes Nick happy to have him there, to be fighting for victory together. Joe does it because it's what Nick expects, what Nick needs.
He does it all while not caring in the slightest about whatever game they're playing that week, as long as Nick's running and jumping and catching with him. He keeps it up until the fall Nick leaves the teams of their youth behind when he joins Kevin and Joe in their high school and proceeds to gleefully join virtually every sports team available, intramural and all, only to look up when the dust settles and notice that Joe isn't a on a single one of them with him.
It's not like this could have escaped Nick's knowledge until that point. He and Joe pretty much spend every free minute together, so Nick had to know Joe wasn't participating in any sports but the ones he diligently kept up with alongside Nick, but still Nick seems genuinely concerned when Joe doesn't join up with any of the teams he's already well on his way to becoming the captain of within the first round of tryouts and practices.
"I told you I can help you with your catching," Nick says patiently, looming over Joe with a "buck up, little camper" smile on his face, in reference to the intramural softball league he's just joined. It's not even an official school team. Nick just found the notice for it on the bulletin board outside the main office.
Joe frowns and doesn't say, "You should be more worried about my pitching," because Nick's too young for that kind of joke, and anyway, they probably don't work so well when you're making them to your brother. It probably tells Joe more about himself than he wants to know that he seriously considers making it anyway.
Nick has no better luck getting Joe to join the varsity basketball or soccer teams, or the lacrosse team that meets every other Wednesday that Nick is oddly intrigued by, and even Nick draws the line at the fencing team, so by the third week in September Nick finally gets around to asking, in a voice weak with this apparently shocking revelation, "You don't actually like sports, do you?"
They're at their normal table at the cafeteria, populated by Kevin, Zac Efron, Kevin's overly handsy best friend, and Joe. This has been Joe's entire social circle for the last two years he's been going here, their numbers increasing only with Nick's arrival.
Joe looks between Kevin and Zac, who are really more busy engaged in what Joe likes to call Zac-tries-to-feed-Kevin-his-lunch-and-Kevin-doesn't-get-it-AGAIN, Kevin blushing and ducking his head, telling Zac to quit it.
Giving up on their help, Joe casts a glance over his shoulder, sees the table full of jocks and their shiny blonde accessories eyeing Nick speculatively, like they're going to dive in and snatch him up any second.
When he finally makes his way back to looking at Nick, Joe is alarmed to see that a dark and serious expression is on his face. "I always made you play. I yelled at you." His voice thick with earnest remorse, his eyes wide and sorry.
Joe smirks a little, forgiveness passed easily between them, "You were just trying to motivate me over that wall."
Nick wrinkles his forehead, missing the reference to the television show he's too obedient a son to sneak episodes of with Joe. "I just thought you'd want to be better, I thought you cared about that." Nick's voice is small, his eyes lashes are brushing too frequently against his cheeks.
Joe ignores the pull in his gut that reminds him this sort of thing is a really bad idea, given their current location, and leans closer, putting a hand on Nick's knee. "Hey, I did. Or, well, okay, no, I didn't. But you cared. That tends to be enough for me."
Nick looks up at him then, something steady and resolved taking over inside him. "No more, Joe. No more doing things because you know I want you to, no more pretending to care because you think I'll... freak."
Joe sighs, but isn't surprised Nick's figured it out so effortlessly. He's very young, Nick, at least in some ways, but he's smart, too smart for his own good, and more than that, he knows his brother. Knows Joe.
Joe smiles a little, squeezes Nick's knee, leans closer and says, "Maybe I just like to be near you. Maybe I just like being close to you while you do what makes you happy."
Nick softens for a second, smiling and swaying in closer so their foreheads touch, but then he yanks himself back, shaking his head. "Find another way, then, Joe. Find a way that isn't just you trying to change yourself for me."
Joe stays close for one more squeeze, but draws carefully away when he feels Nick reaching to cover Joe's hand with his. He does a quick scan of the cafeteria, but nobody's watching them, nobody's laughing or about to hurl cruel jokes he can't bear for Nick to hear, so Joe just smiles, looking thoughtfully back at the jock's table, at the girls with the flouncy maroon skirts and the perfect hair, and says, "Maybe I will, Nick. Maybe I will."
---
"You could try gymnastics," Kevin says as they're walking home. "The pole-vault is pretty cool." Because of course even Kevin, despite having stupid hair and a best friend he doesn't realize has been trying to date him for the better part of the last four years, isn't as much of a disappointment as Joe in this area. He won all-state last year and came in second the year before, and his trophies are lined up alongside Nick's on their living room mantel.
Nick had been mildly skeptical about the athletic legitimacy of gymnastics as a young child, but he'd soon been won over by how high and far Kevin was able to gracefully propel himself into the air.
So it works for Kevin, and Joe likes the outfits okay, and he figures he'd like them even more if he could convince their mother to sew some awesome sequins and stuff on his, but from what he's gleaned from Kevin, gymnasts have to lift weights and shit, and Joe's just not into that.
He trips over his feet as he contemplates this, and Nick catches him right away, a strong hand grabbing his arm and steadying Joe smoothly.
"Easy, Danger," he says fondly, watching Joe take a few steps to make sure he's back on his feet.
Joe smiles his gratitude and then brings his attention back to the matter at hand, finally responding to Kevin's suggestion by saying, "Your outfits are cool and all, Kev, but I think I can do better."
Kevin raises his eyebrows a little and says, "Oh, yeah? Doing what?"
Joe grins at him, secretive and pleased and only says, "Wouldn't you like to know Kevin, wouldn't you like to know."
Kevin rolls his eyes and leaves it at the for the rest of the walk home, but Joe feels Kevin watching him, and he doesn't like the way it makes the back of his neck prickle, even though he tells himself there's no way Kevin could have guessed what Joe is planning.
---
Kevin comes into his room while Joe is lying on his bed after dinner, pretending to read a magazine geared towards young Christian teens and actually thinking about whether or not he'll be able to convince whoever he has to convince that he should be allowed to wear those awesome skirts once he gets himself onto the cheerleading squad.
He doesn't even knock, which is more Joe and Nick's deal with each other than with Kevin, so Joe feels he's within his rights to look mildly affronted and say, "Why don't you try knocking, dude?"
Kevin quirks his lips like the comment isn't even worth responding to and says, "Don't do it, Joe."
Joe blinks at him and lies his magazine down very deliberately on his stomach. He smiles at Kevin sunnily and says, "Don't do what, Kev?"
Kevin shakes his head and says, "Don't try to join the cheerleading squad just because you want to follow Nick around with pompoms and make sure he doesn't turn into a popular jerk without you."
Joe recoils, so surprised he feels like the air has been knocked out of him. He recovers by thinking as snidely as possible that someone should tell Kevin it's not really fair to be that perceptive about other people's problems when he's not even aware that Kevin and Zac 4 ever is not an acceptable thing for two seventeen year old guys to write on each other's yearbooks.
"I'm not doing that," he says instead, carefully avoiding Kevin's eyes.
Kevin sighs, walks over to Joe's bed and sits down, putting a hand on his shoulder and saying, "Nick's always going to need you, man, just maybe not as much as you're used to. It happens, it's okay. It's part of growing up."
Joe says nothing, and continues glaring at the wall until Kevin sighs again and leaves the room, shutting Joe's door behind him quietly.
Joe waits until Kevin's gone to mutter under his breath that that sounds like a pretty stupid deal to him.
---
He gets what Kevin was trying to do for him, he does. He gets that there's a world of humiliation Joe's basically daring the universe to bring down on him as he lines up for the cheerleading tryouts with two dozen girls with eerily well proportioned bodies and hair so soft and well coiffed Joe actually asks one of them what hair products she uses, but he doesn't care. Kevin was probably right to warn him, but he wasn't right about Joe's reasons. At least not all of them.
It's more than a desperate grab to keep Nick with him, a way to head the divergences of growing up off at the pass. Nick's a natural athlete and good strategist, and that makes him an excellent player at almost anything, but he's not like those kids who are waiting for him to join their ranks, waiting to accept them as one of their own. He's just not.
Joe knows Nick, knows him better than anyone, and because of that, he knows Nick still needs protecting. He needs someone there to distract him from his hardness on himself, from his ruthless drive to improve himself no matter the cost. Needs someone to make him laugh and forget to take himself so seriously. He needs someone who will call attention away from the stuffy, formal way he dresses, from the affections and reservations in his speech. Needs someone to take eyes away from how he watches Joe, open and proud, so glad - too glad - to call Joe his. He needs someone there to check his hands, check his looks, to stop Nick from revealing all the ways he's so far from normal.
Joe doesn't care what it takes, doesn't care about being laughed at, or worse, just as long as he makes the team, or squad, whatever. Just as long as he has pompoms in his hands and an excuse to be there, cheering in the stands and keeping an eye on Nick. He doesn't care about the cost, so long as he can keep Nick from all the things he doesn't even know how to correct in himself. He'll be the freak as long as Nick can be the normal one; respected by their parents, liked by his peers. He'll take the heat at school and at home, he'll do whatever he has to to keep Nick safe, keep him happy and as free from cares as Nick can ever be, serious as he is. Good as he is.
That's Joe's to protect, for as long as he can, so he waits his turn and then goes and stands in the middle of the gym with his arms raised above his head, pompoms in hand, shouts, "Joe Jonas!" when the panel of scary looking girls ask him his name with skeptical tones, and then cheers his heart out to the technopop song that comes streaming over the speakers.
He doesn't expect to like it, doesn't expect to know what he's doing or be any good, he just knows he has to be good enough because this is for Nick, so Joe follows the steps as he's instructed, loses himself in the beat and lets his body follow instinctively, and when he stops and looks up, there are three stunned faces looking back at him.
The one in the middle, who is the least scary but also has the best hair, raises her hands in front of her and for a second Joe feels like he's about to hear the jeering start, but instead she puts hands together and, honest to god, initiates the first genuine slow-clap Joe's ever been a part of. The hands getting faster and louder until the whole gym is clapping for him and Joe is actually smiling, he's beaming, and he raises his hands above his head again, this time in victory.
---
When he joins Kevin and Zac and Nick at their lunch table halfway through the period to tell them his triumphant news, the reception is less than stellar.
Kevin puts his face in his hands and Zac pats him consolingly while he says to Joe, "You can't actually do that, dude," like he has any leg to stand on. Zac's starred in every high school musical under the sun and always does it in tights that at times Joe has felt weren't strictly necessary for his character.
Nick isn't even speaking, just sitting there looking stricken over his homemade sandwich and fresh carrots sticks.
"I'm good at it," he says, ignoring Zac and looking only at Nick. "I think I'm actually good at it."
He touches Nick's chin and he looks up obediently, smiling for Joe because that's what he's asking for. "You're going to come to my games?" Nick asks, something young and hopeful in his voice despite himself.
Joe settles back comfortably in his chair, and beams. "Every last one of them."
---
Nick has soccer practice that day after school, and Joe has cheerleading. Kevin has hanging out with Zac and not understanding why Zac likes to cuddle while they listen to CDs in his room.
Joe and Nick walk from their lockers to the field together, parting ways with a quick hug before Nick starts jogging towards his team and Joe wanders over to his.
"We're a cheersquad," says the girl with the hair Joe wishes was his, correcting him when he calls them a team out loud.
Joe nods. "Sure thing. Where do I get my uniform?"
A bunch of arms cross all at once, and all eight girls stare at him with what Joe can only refer to as attitude.
"We're ordering you a boy's uniform, but you'll have to practice in normal gym clothes until it gets here," says the really scary one with the wavy blond hair. Her name might be Taylor but Joe isn't sure he's going to call her that yet. She's got crazy eyes, and she's skinnier than Joe likes his women. Not that he finds himself liking them all that much these days. He kind of has other things on his mind at the moment. He makes sure he's not even letting himself look across the field at the soccer team as he thinks this. Joe's life is complicated enough as it is.
He has a cheersquad to convince.
So Joe shakes his head, saying, "I can wear one of the normal ones." He's totally confident about this. His legs are awesome.
The girl with the hair, the good hair, seems to be in charge, at least from the way she pinches the bridge of her nose and looks like she's already regretting letting Joe on the team. Squad. Whatever.
"You want to wear one of the skirts?" she asks, sounding like Nick the time he asked Joe how he thought he was going to get down from the roof once he climbed up there from the attic skylight. Joe likes her. He thinks he might start calling her by her actual name instead of nice hair girl.
Joe smiles, big and winning, "I have really awesome legs." He stands back a little to let them take a gander, and is rewarded to see that some of the girls are already coming around. "They'll look even better under one of those sweet skirts you girls are rocking, I'm pretty sure," he concludes, smiling more.
There's a long pause, and then Demi says, "All right, Jonas, have it your way."
And Joe does a back-flip, just because he feels like it.
---
They do stretches and stuff for the majority of practice, which Joe doesn't find particularly thrilling, but at one point the soccer ball gets kicked far afield and Nick jogs over to retrieve it, and the smile he gives Joe when he catches him obediently following along with Demi's dulcet commands is pretty much worth it.
When practice ends, Demi makes Joe hang back so the girls can get changed before showing him where the locker room is and searching through some boxes for a uniform that will fit him. Scary-eyes-Taylor is there too, hovering creepily. Her fingers are too long, and it weirds Joe out.
As Demi holds a likely size up to Joe's chest, murmuring that he really does have the slender shoulders to pull it off, Taylor announces, "You'll have to shave your legs, you know," all smug like she thinks this is going to be the thing that stops him.
Joe smirks, allowing himself the pleasure of scoffing visibly. He wore his hair in the same idiot fauxhawk for nearly two years because he knew Nick thought it looked cool. He needed Kevin to help him with that stupid hair. Clearly, Taylor has no idea who she is dealing with.
He grabs the top out of Demi's hand, taking a second to admire the gold stitching along the v-neck collar, and holds it out in front of himself, imagining the skirt that goes with it. "I can work with that." He winks at Taylor. "I really do have totally awesome legs."
---
Standing in front of the mirror with him at home as Joe tries on his uniform for the first time, Nick is forced to agree.
Or at least, that's what Joe is assuming from the way he goes rigid and tongue tied, gaping at Joe as he leans backwards, trying to check out his own ass. "If it wasn't such a pain in the ass, I could really see why girls go for this shaving thing," he muses, leaning down to stroke his smooth calf.
Getting that done had been a bit of an escapade, Joe admits. He hasn't told his parents, in the strictest sense, that he just joined the girls cheerleading team - squad - and he didn't really think opening with, "And so I need to borrow mom's shaving cream so my legs smell like lavender," was the way to go.
Instead, he employed his time honored tactic of getting away with shenanigans his parents weren't likely to approve of - he did it while his mom was making dinner and his dad was watching the news, and he did it while he made Nick stand guard outside the bathroom door.
He cut himself a few times, which sucked, but they're mostly covered by the awesome knee-high socks Joe's wearing, and frankly, he still has to conclude that the results are worth it.
Nick's still speechless behind him, but when Joe flounces over - seriously, he can literally flounce in this thing, it's so awesome - his hands reach out automatically, and Joe grins as he moves closer, letting Nick lay his open palms against Joe's hips, holding him in place in front of Nick.
Nick swallows in furious succession, shaking his head a little like he's trying to come out of a daze.
"Your levels okay?" Joe asks, concern seeping into his enjoyment of this moment, touching a finger to Nick's cheek.
"They're fine," Nick squeaks, probably answering the only question he still has the faculties to at this moment.
His hands tighten around Joe, sliding up to his waist, and Joe feels his heart start to hammer faster, faster, in his chest.
He's wearing a skirt and all but getting felt up by his younger brother, and Joe can't remember a time he's felt better about himself. Joe chokes a little as Nick's hands change direction again, slipping lower, his fingers tracing the pleats on Joe's skirt.
"S'soft," he says, drawn in like a moth and Joe just stands there, letting Nick touch.
---
They're late for dinner. Nothing happens, exactly, apart from Joe's hard-on tenting in his skirt against Nick's hand and Nick not pulling away nearly as quickly as one might reasonably expect.
They get called for dinner before anything else can happen, Nick stammering and stumbling back like a bucket of cold water has been thrown at him, instead of just the sound of their mother's voice. He flees Joe's room with half articulated apologies.
Joe stands there for a few minutes, willing his erection to go down and be forgotten around, and when he feels like he can move without giving in and touching himself, he changes out of his uniform and puts on normal enough clothes that he can show his face at his father's table in.
He finds himself missing the freedom he had within the skirt, even though he only wore it for a few, albeit very eventful, minutes.
Nick's only a few seconds ahead of him, and Joe realizes he probably needed a few minutes to regain control himself. He knows it shouldn't, but the thought makes Joe feel infinitely better.
Nick smiles at him across the table, shy but not freaked, and that helps too.
They say grace, and Nick doesn't let go of Joe's hand after they finish, just drops both their hands down under the table and keeps holding on. They begin to eat, their mother's traditional inquiries about their days taking up the first 10 minutes with ease.
When they get around to Joe, though, he finds himself at a loss. He could say that his likes his new biology teacher, that he appreciated the extra pudding his mom packed in his lunch, or he could try to find a single way to could tell his parents he just joined the cheerleading squad without getting grounded for the rest of his life or just disowned entirely, but then Nick says, "Joe made the cheerleading squad," with a grin so big and proud and innocent Joe realizes he's almost daring their parents to react badly.
Their father puts down his fork, hard, and he stares at Joe, not for the first time, like he doesn't quite know how Joe got to be one of his sons, and Joe realizes he's so used to that expression he barely registers the sting, and refocuses his attention on Nick's smile, genuine for all it's also clearly a tactic to save Joe from recrimination.
Their mother smiles, uncertain but ready to support her boys, to support Joe, and then Frankie says, "Cheerleading is for girls," in that blank, confused way only a seven year old can.
Joe kind of wishes Frankie was older and less prone to making such inconvenient statements, but Kevin saves him this time, laughing and saying, "That's what you thought about gymnastics too, remember? Billy Ford from your school told you that and you came home and asked me why I was in a girl-sport, but then I took you with me to one of my meets and you thought it was pretty cool, right?"
Frankie considers this, and eventually nods. Kevin smiles encouragingly, "Well with Joe, it's going to be just like that. He'll have to train and work really hard, he'll have to practice different positions and strategies, just like any other sport. And he'll be cheering for the school basketball team, showing school spirit," at this point it's clear enough that Kevin's moved on from trying to convince Frankie to their parents, and Joe is so grateful to him he kind of wants to let go of Nick's hand under the table and squeeze Kevin's, but Nick is holding on to him tight, and he can't really imagine pulling away from him right now. Or ever.
"And I think I'm actually good at it," Joe says, not expecting this argument to work as well on their father as it had on Nick, but still needing to say it.
"That's good, sweetheart," his mom says, almost meaning it.
There's a long silence following her endorsement, when they're all silently waiting on Kevin Sr., and finally, finally, he picks up his fork and, another long pause later, starts eating again. It's not approval, but it's as close to permission as Joe is going to get, and he takes it with a smile on his face.
---
Joe feels his life would be easier if more appropriate words rhymed with Nick, and at lunch the next day, he tells Nick so. By virtue of their location at the same lunch table, he also tells Zac and Kevin, who share mortified glances when Nick says, "What, quick, slick, thick..." and then makes a wide-eyed and alarmed look of his own as his trail of thought goes to the same place Joe's had earlier.
"This is what I'm saying," Joe says, sighing in a long-suffering manner.
Nick looks briefly apologetic, and then pats Joe's hand, saying, "I'm sure you'll come up with something."
Joe grins at him, appreciating the confidence. He nods to himself. "Yeah, I totally will."
He chews on a carrot stick happily, pondering words that might rhyme with Jonas, and is in the middle of muttering something to himself about bonus and onus when Kevin clears his throat and gets a look on his face like he's going to try and start explaining to Joe the inherent unacceptability of spending most of his free time wearing a skirt and rhyming about how awesome Nick is.
"I just want to cheer, and lead others to cheer," Joe says stubbornly, cutting him off before he can begin and then ignoring Kevin's pained but silent response.
Nick grins at him, like he's actually proud of Joe's commitment to school spirit, or something, and Kevin gives up, letting himself get distracted by the fact that Zac is already halfway through stealing all of Kevin's fries.
---
Demi sits down beside Joe in the biology class they share after lunch and says, "You know, I bet if you straightened your hair and grew it out a little more, it would look super pretty." She smiles tentatively, like she's almost certain this is the sort of goal Joe would be interested in pursuing, but she's ready to turn her smile apologetic if she's wrong.
Joe runs a thoughtful hand over his hair, not truly curly, like his brothers, but getting long enough that the waves are becoming more pronounced. "Straightened, huh?"
She nods, more enthusiastic this time, her smile bolstering. "Yeah, I could lend you mine if you want, or you could come over and try it out. To see if you like it. Maybe this weekend?" Joe has a brief moment of panic, considering that he's being asked out on some kind of a date in disguise, but she continues, saying, "Some of the other girls from the squad are coming over for a make-over night. I know it's kind of lame, but it's just an excuse to get to know each other a little better, eat some junk food and watch bad movies."
Joe considers this, still running his fingers through his hair. He supposes this might not be the response least likely to get him beat up some time soon, but he was invited, after all, so eventually he has to admit, "That sounds pretty awesome," and grins at her.
Demi grins back at him and hands him her address, so apparently he's going.
---
Team-building with the cheersquad, which is what Nick insists on referring to Joe's make-over night with the girls as, goes pretty awesomely. They eat candy and Demi was so right about Joe's hair, he's totally the prettiest one at the party.
Once again, it seems as though Nick agrees, given the way he practically pins Joe to the inside of his bedroom door as soon as Joe gets home, running his hands through it, biting his lip.
"You look..." he says, drifting off to stare openly, his tongue pressing against his lip.
"What?" Joe croaks, dipping his head closer to Nick's, his hands still entangled in Joe's hair. "Pretty?" He bats his eyelashes, but his weak attempt at comedy does nothing to diffuse the heat sparking between them.
"Beautiful," Nick says, shaking his head earnestly.
Joe smiles, shy and proud, but he makes himself say, "Keep it a secret, okay, Nick? You have to keep that a secret."
Nick's eyes are still a little glassy, and his hands have slipped down from Joe's hair to rest on the base of his neck, but he says, "But everyone who sees you will know that you are," like Joe's beauty is an objective truth Nick can't possibly be expected to contain.
Joe laughs a little, a soft breath, and says, "Just that you think it, Nick. Can't let people know that you think it. That's just between us, okay?"
Nick nods even more seriously this time, "I know that," but he adds, softly, "But between us it's okay? This is okay?" he asks as his hands move, cupping Joe's face and drawing him in closer.
Joe shudders a breath and says, just before their lips touch, "Yeah, Nick. It's okay."
So there's that. There's Nick and the secret moments they share together, shy kisses and even shyer touches, hidden glances and Saturday afternoons stolen away together, or sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to take bike rides through neighborhoods they don't know and where no one knows them so they can hide away in little parks and hold hands on unfamiliar swing sets, so they can kiss under the stars.
And in the daytime, there's breakfasts with the family and walks to school, classes and new friends and practice, lots of practice. Joe has cheerleading practice three times a week, and Nick has soccer practice at all the same times, except for two extra ones for basketball, so they're both busier than usual, but their free time still mostly matches up. At the end of their practices, whoever is done first waits around, an unspoken agreement between them, and they walk home together, tired, sore, and happy, and talk of their adventures and glorious deeds.
Joe gets to know all the names of the guys on Nick's teams, who plays what and who Nick feels is kind of a douche, and who he likes, and Joe shares similar insights about the cheerleaders.
They don't stop eating with Kevin and Zac, who are still in the same holding pattern of not nearly as much holding as Zac would like they've been in since the 8th grade, but Nick and Joe do gradually start spending roughly the second half of their lunch breaks milling around on the quad with the crew of jocks and cheerleaders who apparently feel that's the cool way to spend their time.
It's nice to be outside, Joe supposes, and it's kind of fun to hang out with a big group of people and watch them all preening for each other, dating each other and he enjoys having the opportunity to participate in and contribute to their in-jokes. Some of them he thinks he even likes, like Demi, so all in all, Joe's pretty happy with the way junior year is shaping up.
There's a mild kerfuffle about actually allowing Joe to wear the skirts at games, but Demi busts out some equality-fu and a surprisingly thorough knowledge of the student handbook, and Joe's skirt is allowed to stay slung low on his hips.
At the first game of the basketball season there's a certain amount of shocked gasping when the people in the stands realize Joe's not just a kind of weirdly proportioned girl, but then the actual game starts and the team is dominating, Nick is kicking serious ass, and everyone forgets about Joe and his lack of gender conformity as his voice becomes just another in the din of cheering fans.
---
Joe definitely figures he'd get more flack for running around in a skirt and generally making a ridiculous fool out of himself if Nick wasn't such an easy person to be a cheerleader for. Everyone loves Nick, as Joe knew they would, his teams, the fans, and even though Demi is constantly reminding Joe that technically he's a cheerleader for the whole basketball team, really, screw that. The squad doesn't cheer at Nick's baseball games, lacrosse matches and soccer games, but Joe goes to those games too, dressed in full regalia, waving his pompoms and homemade signs.
Making signs is probably Joe's third favorite part of being a cheerleader. After the outfits, and the way Nick looks at him in them.
He likes thinking up slogans, he likes the sparkles and the puff-paint that gets on his hands and in his hair. He likes the sheepishly but involuntarily proud way Nick laughs when Joe reveals a new one at a game.
Some of Joe's most successful signs have been Nick J is off the chain (that one really caught on - because Nick is) Jonas for President, and although it seemed to lack broader appeal, he's still personally quite proud of Nick Jonas: in the lead for good. Joe doesn't feel he can be faulted for accuracy just because other members of the team might have taken offense.
He likes the part with actual cheerleading too, likes taking his place at the base of the human pyramid or knowing that when he tosses Demi into the air, he's going to catch her. He likes the cheers she comes up with, likes moving as one part of a well-oiled and well-coiffed machine. He likes the girls on his squad, and even though Taylor is still creepy if you ask Joe, he has to admit that she really knows how to bring it, as it were, when they cheer. Joe thinks cheerleading is like dancing with eight other partners, always knowing where they're going to be and who is going to need Joe to move how and when. He's good at anticipating that kind of thing, and when the objective is cheering Nick (and sure, some other dudes) to victory instead of helping him attain it on the field, Joe finds he's rarely enjoyed himself more.
But as much as he likes being part of the squad, he likes the games he cheers alone almost better. He likes coming up with his own cheers, likes practicing them in the backyard while Nick watches, clapping and shyly correcting his footwork when Joe messes up. Likes it when Nick helps him practice his own routines, suggesting new flips Joe can try and complimenting him on them when he lands them right.
He likes sharing cheer strategies with Nick and listening to him talk about the newest thing the soccer team is trying on defence, likes lying on Nick's bed, brainstorming new cheers while Nick does his homework or stretches on his bedroom floor, and most of all Joe likes the way it draws them back together at the end of each day.
This particular afternoon he's stretched out on his back, three days before Nick's soccer regional semi-finals, tapping his bottom lip with a purple gel pen, and asks thoughtfully, "How do you feel about me shouting hip-hip-hurray for Nicholas J whenever you do something I think is awesome?" Nick does a lot of awesome stuff. Joe sees no reason to restrict his cheering to the moments when Nick scores a goal or makes a basket or gets a home-run. Although those things happen a lot, too.
Nick pauses mid stretch, chest and arms bent as he touches his distant toe, looks up and grins, "That's great, Joe, that's great," sheepishly proud where a normal fifteen year old would probably be mortified beyond belief.
Joe grins back, and scribbles it down. He really is totally awesome at this.
---
Their parents never come to Nick's games. Kevin Sr. has a policy about taking pride in your own accomplishments, not looking to others for approval and praise, and it's always been his excuse when he's too busy with other families from their church to pay attention to his own. It's always infuriated Joe, made his fists clench as he watched Nick scan the stands, every game, every time throughout their childhoods, but Joe's grateful, now, that their father isn't there.
He's grateful to be the one Nick looks for, grateful to be enough, pompoms and handmade signs and all, to make Nick smile, enough for Nick to try and win.
---
The only flaw in Joe's otherwise obviously brilliant plan is that Nick doesn't really do much to sufficiently distance himself from Joe's shenanigans in public. Despite Joe's best efforts, Nick never does anything of the kind when Joe tries his best to telegraph with his over enthusiastic spelling out of Nick's name with his arms that Nick's acceptable response is to roll his eyes and sigh in a grudgingly tolerant manner, to turn to his buddies on the team and say something like, "Brothers, man, what are you going to do," and then shrug in the manly way Joe always imagines Nick acting with his sports friends when he imagines their interactions. Not that he does that a lot or anything.
The point is, instead of following the exasperated younger brother script Joe has envisioned for him, Nick consistently responds to Joe's antics with huge smiles and pink cheeks. He waves up at Joe whenever he runs onto the soccer field, or basketball court, just like all the other guys do with their cheering girlfriends, and what with Joe standing around with pompoms at his sides and signs proclaiming Nick's awesomeness, he's kind of afraid they're sending the wrong message.
This fear becomes particularly pronounced on the final night of the soccer regionals. Despite once being on the teams with him, Joe has actually never paid more attention to the rules and regulations of the sports Nick is apart of, so he knows exactly what this game means. It means they're one step closer to competing for state, and it means Nick has been running an extra 45 minutes every morning the last two weeks. That's still on top of the rest of his sporting activities and his unwavering commitment to getting straight-As.
So Joe knows what's at stake, and for that reason, for Nick, he cheers his effing heart out, rousing coordinated cheers from the stands as he waves the Nick J is Off the Chain sign like his life depends on it, and when Nick scores in the last seconds of the game and they win - they WIN - Joe loses himself to the mindless euphoric joy of it just like everyone else.
He doesn't think about what he's doing, just lets his feet carry him down off the stands and through the crush of cheering fans, parents and friends, follows the flow of people out onto the field and in that mass somehow finds Nick. Finds him and throws up his arms, meaning it just as one last cheer, one last gesture of pride and congratulations, but then Nick's arms are around him, picking Joe off the ground and spinning him around, his skirt twirling out beneath him, and Nick kisses Joe, hard and quick, for all to see.
---
After the game, like always, the team goes out for burgers and milkshakes and all the girlfriends come along. And as always, Joe comes too. He sits in the back of Jason the goalie's truck, crammed in beside Nick, and Joe keeps his eyes open and on the road stretching out his passenger window, and hopes everyone will assume Nick's arm is wrapped so tightly around his shoulders to make room for the two other people sitting back there with them.
Most of the rest of the team has already arrived when they get there, taking up half the diner, three and a half booths already spilling over with letterman jackets and the slips of girls borrowing them.
Nick keeps his arm around Joe as they saunter over to the least crowded table, and he lets Joe sit down first like the gentlemen Nick should be better at hiding that he is.
Demi is there, and Selena; their boyfriends are both on the team, and they smile at him, sharing big, proud grins that their team, one of their teams, has made it this far. Joe smiles back.
"Are you going to drive out to the finals in Dallas?" Selena asks Joe, dipping one of her fries in her chocolate milkshake. Joe has always liked the way Sel does her nails, and briefly considers whether or not he could get away with asking her to show him how she gets them so nice before digesting her question.
"Mmm?" he hums, stalling for time. He hadn't really thought that far. Nick plays, he cheers, that's the only system Joe has.
"Some of us are driving up, you know, if we can get enough people to chip in for the van," Demi says, and Joe doesn't need much help filling in who the someone elses will be. The soccer team doesn't technically have cheerleaders, but what with Joe being Joe and most of the girls dating guys that are on the team, as well as a few of the others, just like Nick, Joe imagines most of the squad will be going.
"We could wear our uniforms, even, you know. Just from the stands, but... it might be good, you know?" Sel says, smiling hopefully.
Joe nods, absent agreement to give himself time to keep thinking it over, what it would look like, how he would convince their parents, but then Nick is leaning over, breaking from the conversation about defense tactics he was having with David to say, "Of course, you're coming. You're my lucky charm, Joe." He's smiling, but his voice is far too serious, too low and too close to Joe's ear.
He laughs, louder than necessary but needing to change the mood of the moment before other people feel the heat off Nick, notice the way his other hand is on Joe's thigh under the table. "Sure, Nick," he says, grinning at Demi and Sel like, can you believe this guy. "Lucky Joe Danger, that's what they call me."
The girls laugh too, and so do a few other people within earshot, and the conversation moves on, more in depth discussion of the game, more plans for how they're going to win the next one, the big one, and all the while Nick keeps his arm around Joe and Joe doesn't have the words or the self-control to get Nick to stop.
---
That night after they get driven home, Nick hugs Joe for a full minute, just standing there in the hallway, and says, "Night, Joe, Iloveyou," in one hurried breath against Joe's forehead as he kisses him goodnight.
Kevin's in the bathroom, brushing his teeth with the door open, and when he finishes, he follows Joe back into his bedroom, closing the door behind and looking at Joe so seriously, so sadly, standing there in his stripped pajamas.
Joe crawls under the covers and faces off with Kevin moodily, picking at a stray thread on his blanket and finally asking, when Kevin doesn't speak, "What?" Even though he's fairly certain he doesn't want to hear the answer. Kevin doesn't cheer the way Joe does, and he certainly doesn't dress that way, but he comes to almost all of Nick's games. He was there to see them on the field that night. He's been there for a hundred other moments like it.
Kevin sighs heavily, arms crossed wearily against his chest, and says, "Just because you're wearing skirts and growing out your hair doesn't mean you can be his girl, Joe."
Joe doesn't look at him, just furiously blinks back the moisture in his eyes, and answers, almost petulantly, "I don't want to be his girl. I just want to be his."
Kevin sighs and sits down heavily beside Joe on his bed, seeming to take a thousand hours before finally saying, gentle like he's sorry to have to be the one to tell Joe this, "That's messed up."
Joe puts his head in his hands, and laughs until he can't breathe. Kevin stays with him, rubbing his back as his laughter turns to tears, making unspoken promises that everything is going to be all right.
---
Zac shows up at their house for breakfast the next day, which is something he does a lot, but Joe finds himself more appreciative of it than usual. Not that he's expecting that Kevin's going to announce that Joe has recently admitted to being secretly dating their younger brother at the breakfast table, but, well, better safe than sorry.
Zac steals half of Kevin's pancakes and he and Joe talk a little bit about their respective hair straighteners, and then they walk to school together in two rows of two. Zac tries to hold Kevin's hand while Kevin doesn't notice and talks animatedly about a documentary he heard is coming out on sea turtles, and Nick tries to hold Joe's hand while Joe doesn't let him by keeping both hands tucked into his pockets.
When they get to school, Joe and Zac share a sympathetic look and Joe makes a mental note to finally sit Kevin down and return all his favors of recent emotional revelation dropping and get him to make out with Zac already. He knows Kevin wants to, or would want to, if someone actually presented this to him as an option. At least Joe thinks so. He's never seen Kevin pay any attention to anything that wasn't gymnastics, church, sea life, family, or Zac, so at least for Kevin's sake Joe hopes he's right, because if not, Kevin is going to have a very boring life.
Nick gets hailed by a group of dudes from the soccer team who are lounging against their lockers as soon as they get inside, and he pulls Joe along with him to go say good morning, or yo, or what's up, or whatever it is people like Nick do. Joe's never had friends who weren't related to him, trying to date someone who was related to him, or girls, so he doesn't really know.
Nick says hey to everyone and then David and Nick fist-bump, because from what Joe understands, David is Nick's favorite on the team. He doesn't really seem like the type of person Nick would choose as a friend, too cavalier with the rules to be as serious as Nick, but he's a nice guy, so there's that. He nods a hello at Joe, at least, which is more than anyone else on the team does. Joe smiles back and carefully takes two steps further away from Nick's side, preventing him from casually slinging an arm over Joe's shoulder.
He tunes out of their conversation about, well, he doesn't know because he tunes it out, and doesn't snap back to attention until he feels Demi's hand on his neck, squeezing a hello.
"Hey, loser," she says, thinking she's pretty funny.
Joe smiles, because in her own lame way, Demi kind of is. Joe happens to appreciate lameness as a comedic strategy. "Hey."
"Practice today," she says, in case he didn't know.
Joe does, and he assures her of this, "Wouldn't miss it."
Nick pauses in his conversation to smile in a way that indicates Joe is deserving of praise for remembering both what day it is and what his scheduled plans are. It's a little condescending, but then again, Joe supposes it's nice that Nick appreciates the little things.
The bell rings and Joe and Demi head one way while Nick goes the other, waving and promising to see Joe at lunch.
As they walk, Demi says, "You okay?"
Joe stumbles a little, laughing awkwardly, "Why wouldn't I be?"
She shrugs. "Just looked like maybe things were a little tense between you and Nick. Everything okay with you guys?"
Joe's stomach drops and he thinks, Jesus. He knows that tone. It's the same one Demi uses whenever one of the other girls is messing up because she's broken up with her boyfriend, or fought with her boyfriend, or been cheated on by her boyfriend, or whatever.
"Everything's cool," Joe promises her, a too big smile and an unconvincing nod.
Demi smiles at him, worry wrinkling her forehead. "Hey, I mean, I know it's... complicated."
Joe almost chokes, his voice coming out way too high when he parrots, "Complicated? Being brothers with Nick?"
She tilts her head, and just says, "I'm around if you ever want to talk, that's all I'm saying."
Joe cannot count the ways he will never be taking her up on that, but still, he means it when he says, "Thanks, Demi."
---
At lunch, Zac accidentally spills milk all over Kevin's jeans, and when Kevin makes Joe come with him to the bathroom to clean up, Joe realizes that maybe it wasn't an accident.
"Did you set me up?" he demands in a scandalized whisper as they walk.
Kevin ignores him until they get into the bathroom. He checks the few lonely stalls to be sure they're alone, and then he says, "You have to be more careful."
Joe raises his hands in the air, eyes widening in exaggerated disbelief. "We're in the bathroom! At school!"
Kevin glances around shiftily, even though they know they're alone. "Can't you talk to him?"
"To Nick?" Joe gapes. "We're talking about the same kid, here?"
Kevin sighs. "He's not as naive as you think, Joe."
Joe laughs. "I don't think Nick is naive. I think he's... caught up."
"Caught up?"
Joe shrugs. "In the moment, in the thrill of it all, being a star, having a big bunch of cool friends. And I'm just... I can be a part of that for him, being like this," he waves at himself, tight jeans and a purple v-neck that hugs his chest, tame enough to get out of the house in, but just barely.
Kevin shakes his head, looking vaguely horrified. "That's not all it is, Joe. Not at all."
Joe scuffs his shoes on the bathroom tiles and says, "So what is it, then?"
Kevin puts his hands on his head, turning in an exasperated half circle away from and then back to Joe. "What's it for you, Joe?"
Joe stares at his toes for a very long time, until he finally says, "You can't ask me that. Okay, Kevin? Just don't ask that. Because you really don't want to hear the answer."
He knows he deserves a fight, but Kevin's always been one to give in easily when he knows his family really needs it, so Joe isn't really all that surprised when Kevin just says, "Okay, Joe," and walks out of the bathroom without another word.
---
Joe's cheerleading practice ends before Nick's soccer one that day, so he camps out on the bleachers, waiting for Nick. He watches him, barely aware there are other players on the field, watches Nick run like something's chasing him, his face a frozen mask of tension funneled into concentration.
When the coach blows the final whistle, Nick is the first to break off from the team, waving David off as he shouts something to Nick, bypassing the showers and locker room entirely in favor of running over to Joe, jogging up the bleacher steps and dropping down beside him, cheeks red, puffing in and out. Joe watches the rest of the team scatter, most of them moving in the direction of the change rooms, some simply walking off towards home.
He turns around, squinting at Nick, still winded from a hour's worth of hard running. Joe smiles tentatively, but Nick doesn't smile back.
"This isn't a phase for me," he says, the moment he regains his breath.
Joe just sits there, floored, until he can think, belatedly, fucking Kevin. He opens his mouth to talk but Nick doesn't give him a chance, barreling on in a tone harsh tone from disbelief and hurt, "It's not. You're not some placeholder for me until I go to college and meet a nice girl."
Joe tucks his knees up to his chest and makes sure he means it when he says, "It would be better if I was."
"Better for who?" Nick demands, all the control slipping from his voice, his eyes.
"Better for you," Joe answers softly.
Nick shakes his head, looking up at the sky and then back down at Joe. He takes Joe's hand in his, there in the open sunshine, and just says, "No, it wouldn't."
---
It's spring. The basketball season's been over since January, ending with the team only taking second place in regionals, something Nick had taken weeks and some serious cheering from Joe to forgive himself for, and what with the soccer team going to state at the end of the month, Joe supposes it's not that surprising that the whole school and nearly the whole town has become gripped with soccer fever.
Still, it's a strange phenomenon to be a part of, even tangentially. When he goes to the corner store to get himself and Nick a soda, the clerk asks Joe to tell Nick good luck at the game. When he goes jogging with Nick in the mornings, cars honk at them and people cheer encouragement from their rolled down windows.
The team is practicing almost constantly, classes getting cut short at the end of everyday for players to get more drills in, and Joe's just as busy with the cheerleading squad. Demi's running with the idea of the whole team going along, showing their school colors and school spirit, and they practice just as hard on new cheers and routines. They even make spirit baskets for all the players, and no one questions Joe's right to make Nick's.
He knows they're supposed to be, like, cupcakes and gag gifts, but Joe spends almost a week on his. He can't bake if his life or Nick's depends on it, but he buys Nick a ton of sugar free gum and some fake chewing tobacco Nick can chew up and spit out when he's frustrated or wants to look cool. He gets Nick a new tube of that ridiculous black paint Nick insists on putting on his cheeks at every game, and writes him a new cheer. It's meant to be a cheer, anyway, but Joe realizes half-way through that it's really more like a song, and not one he could ever sing to Nick in front of other people, but he writes it down in careful, delicate script, rolls the paper up and slips it into Nick's basket with the rest.
---
Nick can't sleep the night before the game. Joe knows, because around midnight Nick sneaks into his room, crawling into bed with Joe and putting his cold hands against Joe's bare chest.
Joe strangles a cry of outrage at Nick's icy onslaught, forcing himself to lie still as Nick burrows closer, claiming Joe's warmth as his due.
"You nervous?" Joe asks, eyes open and looking up at the ceiling, his hand cupping the back of Nick's head as he rests it on Joe's shoulder.
"Excited," Nick corrects. Joe can hear the confidence in his voice when Nick says, "We're going to win."
Joe smiles, not sad exactly but something like it, wistful maybe, and says, "Of course you will."
Nick smiles back, Joe can feel it against his skin, and then he kisses Joe's shoulder, his hands trailing boldly down Joe's front.
"What do I get when we do?" Nick asks, letting Joe catch his wrists just shy of their destination, turning his face up to look at Joe in a dangerous mix of coyness and bravado.
"What do you want?" Joe asks, amazing himself by keeping his voice steady.
Nick grins, not a trace of shyness now, and says, "You, Joe. Just you."
---
The drive to Dallas goes fast, Joe and six girls crammed into the van Demi's rented, singing along to the radio and climbing half out their windows to wave at the bus carrying the soccer team and coaches whenever they catch up with them.
When they get to the stadium Joe is stunned by how large it is, how it's already half full even though the game isn't for several hours.
Their opponents are already on the field, running through one more set of drills, their coach shouting at them and waving his hands. Joe sits with the other girls as near to the pitch as they can get, making sure they have enough space to stand and cheer in case Demi can't find a way to get them onto the sidelines of the actual field to do their routine during the half.
Joe keeps both eyes out for Nick, and lets the rest of the girls worry about the rest of the team. Eventually they stream out, their new uniforms bright and blazing, determined smiles on their faces. Nick's eyes find Joe's in the stands, and Joe gives into the temptation and blows Nick a kiss, worth the stupidity of the risk for the helplessly euphoric grin Nick answers it with. He makes a show of catching it in the air, and tucking it safely into his pocket, and Joe goes red, studiously not looking at anyone around him for a solid five minutes after that, not trusting himself to smile and laugh it off to anyone who might be looking.
Twenty minutes before the game starts, Kevin and Zac show up, driving up on their own in Zac's hatchback. They're holding hands.
The day before Joe took Zac aside, hands on his shoulders, and just said, "He doesn't get it. I know you think you're not being subtle, but trust me. It's too subtle for Kevin."
"He's not some oblivious idiot," Zac responded instantly, loyal to Kevin till the end.
"Not about most things, no," and boy, did Joe know that for sure. "But about himself? About getting how awesome he is? How people might notice and love him for it? Kevin's a goddamn fool."
Zac stood there for a long time, hope and doubt warring on his face, until finally he said, "Just tell him?"
Joe clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Just tell him."
Given the smiles on their faces now, Joe feels he's entitled to throwing up his arms in victory, and cheering his own name.
---
They're down a point at the half, and Joe doesn't have to strain to see the frustration rolling off Nick. He looks to Demi, and the rest of his squad, and they nod at each other, slipping down the stairs of the stadium, hopping the fence onto the pitch. By the time the refs and other team notice what's going on they've formed a line, pompoms out, and they spend the next ten minutes cheering for their team, cheering for victory, cheering for Nick. When it's over, Joe is at the top of the pyramid, arms stretched into the air, and the whole place is cheering for them, but Joe hears Nick's voice loudest of all.
---
The second half is fast, brutal, injuries handed back and forth and no points scored until finally, finally, while Joe stands on his seat and screams at the top of his lungs, Nick scores and the game is tied.
They go into overtime, and Joe's heart doesn't stop racing for a second, not one, until he sees David and Nick finally pulling ahead of the other team's relentless defense, passing the ball back and forth like they've planned this whole thing, every footstep, and then - in a moment that seems to hang suspended, outside all the rest - Nick passes the ball one more time back to David, and he shoots, and he scores.
The stadium blows up, and Joe along with it, cheering and half crying with the sheer joy of it.
Somehow, through all the hundreds of people, Joe gets to the field and gets to Nick, who immediately breaks away from the euphoric huddle of teammates surrounding him and David, runs to Joe and when he reaches him, Nick lifts Joe up, hoisting him onto his shoulders, raising his own arms in the air and cheering like they're both champions.
Joe gives himself up to it, cheering with him, their voices echoing together in their shared triumph.
---
The team has three hotel rooms booked, and they all stay, the squad and even Kevin and Zac, and they celebrate together until dawn, laughing and toasting each other, not even needing to exaggerate the details yet, just reveling in the simple reality of their victory.
When morning comes, Joe finds Nick alone in the hotel lobby, sitting at the piano, his fingers tracing the keys. Joe hasn't heard him play in years, but Nick still looks completely natural there, totally at home.
He grins at Joe when he hears him coming, tired but so proud, and Joe sits down on the bench beside him.
"Everyone's looking for you," Joe says, leaning into Nick a little. "You're the man of the hour," he laughs, "or the night. Whichever. Don't you want to go drink from the keg of glory with all your admirers?"
Nick shakes his head, a smile of simple, unwavering love on his lips, and he says, "I told you, Joe. I just want you."