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Sunday Morning After
by Danielle

Nick had a good time on Saturday night. But now it's the Sunday Morning After and oh boy, is he ever paying for it.

Where? What? God, would someone shut that damn ringing off? He burrowed further into the pillows and tried to bury his ears from the sound. Stupid bugger wouldn't go away. With a silent groan, as to not further disturb the jackhammers doing the cha-cha in his head, he shot his hand out and ripped the phone off the dresser, putting the receiver to the pillow, then realizing that part was supposed to actually go next to his ear.


"Where are you?" Low voice. Oh that was good. Low voices were nice. Thank you low voice. You are my friend.

"What…what time is it?" Yes, sentences. Good. We still have speech. Tongue not working well, but it can form words. Good.

"It's one-thirty…in the afternoon. Are you all right?" Awww. Low voice cares. Nice low voice.

"Hang on." He rolled over and put the phone on his stomach, rubbing his hand over his face. Jesus, it was bright in here. He closed his eyes again and raised the phone back to his ear. "Kev? What's up?"

"I'm just calling to check up on you. You were having quite the time last night."

Nick grunted. "Paying for it now."

Kevin could hear the barely veiled pain in his voice. He was familiar with the jackhammer chorus line. He grinned. "I'd like to tell you that you can keep sleeping, but it's time to get up. We've got a fan conference in an hour and a half."

Nick winced at the thought of the screams. "Do you think….maybe…earplugs? Or could they do the conference in sign language?"

Nick would roll his eyes at the chuckling on the other end of the phone, but that hurt too much. He should count his blessings. Usually, his wake up call was a loud bang on his door and Kevin booming "CARTER, ASS UP NOW!!" at the top of his lungs. "It seems to me you were having a good time yourself last night. That why you’re not banging my door down?"

There was a snort on the other end of the phone, "I’m not banging your door down because I don’t feel like having the rest of day filled with you whining about how much your head hurts or how mean I am. So consider this your first warning. If I don’t hear movement, then it will business as usual, got it?"

Nodding even though Kevin couldn’t see him, he saluted. "Aye Aye, Cap’n. Getting up."

"Good." There was another snort of stifled contempt, "Make sure you don’t leave housekeeping to wake up your guest this time."

Nick’s hand shot out beside him and met up with a warm, solid lump in the bed and his eyes widened. "Who…."

I remember yelling hey DJ,

Jack the volume I love this song

And then it all gets hazy. . .

Where were my friends to save me?

The phone dropped from dead fingers as he saw blond hair peeking over the top of the sheets and his eyes widened. He thought he was over his blonde period. Apparently not.

Carefully, he pulled the sheet down with pinched fingers and turned away, almost afraid to see eyes looking back at him. He grimaced and turned back around.

Had a blast, I assume

I’m really not sure.

Exactly where am I now, baby?

Wake up and tell me your name ohmygodohnoohgodno. Nonononononononononononononono. Oh FUCK no.

He flew out of the bed so fast he slammed backwards into the wall, his head splitting off from the rest of his body in the impact, and it would have rolled away if he hadn’t grabbed it, swearing in pain. "Oh my god! Oh my god!"

Blue eyes opened sleepily and blinked up at him. Nick blinked back, unable to utter a word. Well besides the three that kept running around in his head over and over. Oh. My. God. He watched as blue eyes got wider and wider. Then the body that went with them sat bolt upright and lifted the sheet to do an inspection for clothes. Wow, he’d never quite heard that noise before. It was not a happy noise.

And then he realized that maybe his clothing situation was just as not good. Looking downwards, he didn’t get any further than looking down his arms before… Oh Jesus. Oh my fucking god.

I looked down at my arm, baby

And something’s looking back at me

And I cannot believe it.

Oh my god. I woke up with a snake tattoo.

What in the hell was that? There was a freaking snake on his arm. A snake. With dice for eyes. Oh fuck. Oh fuckity fuck fuck!

The same inspection was going on in the bed and from the sound of it, the discovery was just as pleasant as his was. Panicked blue eyes met his and an arm was waving in the air too fast for him to make out what it was, but there was definitely something there.

If that screeching didn’t stop, his head was going to explode. He fell onto the bed and clapped his hand over the screeching mouth, which was being protected by two furiously batting and scratching hands. He gave his captive a little shake, "God, shut up! Are you trying to make my head explode?!"

There was a sharp mumble of words behind his hand, he was pretty sure they were not complimentary, but right now he had bigger freaking problems. He winced as a fingernail gouged into his arm. He hissed and glared. "Are you going to stop that screeching? I know you’re just as messed up as I am and it’s not going to be doing your head any favors either."

The eyes glared back and the head nodded.

Slowly, he peeled his hand away and sighed in relief when the screeching did not start again.

"One word. Boxers. For God’s sake, no one wants to see that."

He could feel the heat climbing his neck as he glared in indignation. "Same goes for you. Definitely could have done without waking up to that."

Nick looked around the room and found his own clothes easily enough, then threw the rest of the pile on the bed. Once he had his boxers and shirt on, he sat down on the other bed and scrubbed his hands over his face. This was so wrong in so many ways. How in the hell was he going to explain this stupid tattoo on his arm? He was never, ever going to live this down. He looked over his shoulder at the disappearing pile of clothes. Ever.

He felt a shift on the bed and heard footsteps going into the bathroom before another screech ripped through his head and he groaned in pain.

"Oh my god! OH MY GOD!! Oh my fucking god. NO. Jesus…not…fuck no!"

That did not sound good. He stood up slowly and the world tilted for a second as he got his land legs back underneath him. Leaning heavily on the wall, he shuffled to the bathroom where he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a condom on the floor. He squinted. Fuck. It was used.

Oh. Hell. No. Nononononononononononononononononononono. Jesus god, no.

Blue eyes met blue eyes and they both uttered the same thing, "Fuck no!"

Suddenly, boxers and a t-shirt were not enough clothes. A full body cast would not be enough coverage at this point.

Eyes met again as they both shuddered. Suddenly Nick felt hands shoving him out of the bathroom, "Mind? I have business to attend to."

Feeling the damning heat rising up his neck again, Nick nodded and went back into the main room, pacing back and forth. What in the hell was he going to do? No one could see this or he'd be a dead man. But how do they get themselves both out of this room when the whole freaking floor was probably up and about at this point. Not to mention the search party probably getting organized. He could only hope they didn't think to look in his bathroom.

He tried to figure out how in the hell this happened to him. Even though it hurt like hell, he started up his brain and begged it to remember what happened last night.

By the time the party was over

Tequila was my claim to fame

(I couldn't remember my name)

I was dancing … when I last saw my keys

That was my first mistake

'Cause what happened to me?

There wasn't much to remember, just flashes of shots (way too many), and dancing and music that was too good to stand still and lights everywhere and the sweltering heat. He remembered being poured into the limo, dragging someone behind him….shit. No need to know who that out of focus face he remembered seeing right before he passed out was. He was so dead.

His heart leapt out of his chest and did a circle of the room before slamming back in his chest as the bangs he had been expecting on his door finally came. He crossed himself and slowly walked to the door and prayed that the bathroom would stay quiet and closed. He stopped just shy of the door and yelled through it, "I'm up Kevin! Jesus, lay off!"

Hopefully that would get rid of him. He didn't even want to think of what would happen if he came in here and that bathroom door opened. Oh bad. Oh Badbadbadbadbad.

"Open up, Nicky. It's not Kevin."

Oh bad. This was so bad. He would take Kevin willingly right now. Not Brian. God, anyone but Brian. He closed his eyes and prayed harder than he ever had in his life. Maybe if he prayed hard enough….

"Nick? C'mon man, let me in. This is important."

Swallowing the pansy-assed whimper that wanted to come out of his mouth, he opened the door and stood covering most of the opening with his body. "What's up, Bri?" Ok, that sounded normal. Just a little crack in the voice, nothing the hangover couldn't excuse.

"Have you seen Leighanne? She said she was going to come back with you guys? I woke up this morning and she wasn't there."

Nick was really praying that the panic he could feel coming off him in waves was not something Brian could smell. Dogs could smell fear, it was quite possible choir boys could smell panic. Stranger things had happened. "No man, hav…*cough* haven't seen her." He winced at the fact he couldn't even get that sentence out without twitching. Dead. Man. Walking. He plastered a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry Rok, I don't even remember how I got back here."

Brian sighed and pushed Nick backwards. "Are you sure, Nick? Kevin said the last time he saw Leigh she was pouring you through this door."

He shook his head, "Sorry man, I don't remember a thing before Kevin calling and waking me up this morning." Nick was pretty sure that he had neon colored panic waves coming off of him right about now. Hell, he could smell his own panic at this point. How Brian couldn't was beyond him. He tried to look casual as he leaned in the bathroom doorway. There hadn't been so much as a peep from there since he opened the hotel room door and Brian was starting back towards it again. Maybe prayers were answered.

Or not. He wondered if he could make Brian believe that the lovely barfing sound that just came out of the bathroom was a great voice trick he'd learned from a ventriloquist. Not a freaking chance. Maybe if he peed himself right now, he could distract Brian….

Or Brian could reach around him and open the bathroom door. Shit. Oh shit of shits. Oh my god. Yep, he was definitely going to pee himself. And there was no way he was going to be able to blame that on creating a distraction. He. Was. So. Dead.

Brian was going to have to blink at some point, Nick thought. And he had the ridiculous realization that everyone in this room had blue eyes. Shaking himself mentally, he put his hand on Brian's shoulder. "It's not what it looks like."

Wow, he didn't know Brian's eyebrows could go up his forehead that high. Damn. He was giving Kevin's Brows o' Death a run for their money.

Brian lifted a hand to stop Nick's babbling and opened his mouth once, then again, as he tried to say something. Finally he just closed his mouth to a thin white line and shook his head before walking back out of the room without a word.

Nick did the only thing he could do at this point. He threw up. Fainting turned out not be such a bad idea either.

"Carter!" Ok, whoever was shaking him had to die. Now. "Fuck Carter, get the hell up!"

He opened his eyes and groaned. "Jesus, that's twice today I've woken up to your ugly face."

There was a snort of disgust, "Yeah, like it was the highlight of my fuckin' life." Throwing a towel into the garbage can, there was another snort, this time of contempt. "Next time you decide to hurl, can you maybe do it into something before you swoon?"

Nick raised his head off the floor, "That sentence was so wrong in so many ways. First, there will be NO next time, because we're both dead. There's a witness now. And he's not going to forget easily. Second, I did NOT swoon. Swooning would indicate there was something swoon worthy and your face ain't it."

He decided not to take that smack to his head personally. Which really was big of him, considering who was doing the smacking.

There was more activity in the hallway now, they could both hear it. What in the hell was he going to do? The chances of either one of them getting out of this room and off of this floor without being seen were shot. Brian made damn sure of that. And he had a feeling he was going to be paying for this morning for the rest of his damn life.

Beside his head, he could see fingers picking at the carpet. "How am I going to get out of here?"

They both sat there, trying to think of any way. At all. Without bloodshed. With would be okay, but only as a last resort. When neither of them could come up with a plan, he decided to fall back on the ever ready Plan B. "Okay, fuck it. We're just going to do this."

He got up and walked to his suitcase and pulled out one of his sweatshirts that had a hood on it and threw it across the room. "Put that on."

He was vaguely surprised when there wasn't an argument. Maybe god was making up for that whole bathroom thing. He took a pair of sunglasses out and slipped them on. Taking out another pair, he slid them across the bed where they were caught and put on. "So what's this wonderful plan you have?"

Nick threw on a pair of sweatpants and his sandals, pulling the both of them out of the door and into the busy hallway. "Just keep walking and don't stop."

All activity in the hallway ground to a dead halt as everyone watched the two slouching figures walk to the elevator.

Fingernails were digging into his arm.

"This was your great plan? Just keep walking? Fucking perfect, Carter."

Nick stopped walking. "I didn't see you come up with something better. I was going to take all the heat for this, but you know what? Fuck it, welcome to the fire, Timberlake."

With that, he wrenched the sunglasses off Justin's face and whipped down the hood. He pulled the shocked man to him and laid a kiss on him right in the middle of the hallway. When he pulled away, he looked at all the shocked faces around him, "So now you know. If anyone…I mean ANYONE..mentions this in my presence ever. I will not hesitate to kill you. We were drunk, we're young, we're stupid. Live with it!"

With that he marched both himself and Justin to the elevator and inside with as much attitude as he could muster. Never let it be said he was a coward.

Justin wiped his hand over his lips and spit onto the floor, "I think I’m gonna throw up."

The doors to the elevator closed and silence reigned in the hallway. And then, person by person, applause started. A.J. fell to his knees and looked up at his bandmate. "You are my new fucking GOD!"

Kevin grinned and opened his door, pulling an equally grinning Lance Bass into the hallway with him. "Meet my accomplice. Prank Wars is now officially closed." Kevin held both his and Lance's hands above their heads, "Team Low Down and Dirty has kicked your asses. Long may we reign!"

Bowing, Lance held a videotape up in the air. "Commemorative video will be available through Happy Place Productions for the fee of 29.95 and a non-disclosure waiver. And I'm sure my bandmates enjoyed the show just as much as we did." Another door opened at the other end of the hallway, as the remaining three members of 'N sync stepped into the hallway, applauding and whistling.

"Shit yeah! I'm almost afraid of what we're going to have to do to top this next year." Joey Fatone clapped both Lance and Kevin on the shoulders and kissed the videotape. "But that was so worth it, I don't even mind losing."

Brian wrapped his arms around Leighanne and rested his chin on her shoulder, "So are we ever going to tell them nothing happened?"

Everyone looked at each other in thought and almost as if on cue, they all had the same answer. "Nah!"

The end.

Song lyrics in italics are from Amanda Marshall - Sunday Morning after.

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