The thing that always surprises Kevin about how Nick is an adult now is not that Nick is an adult, but that when Kevin was Nick's age, he didn't feel nearly so grown-up.

When Kevin was Nick's age, Backstreet had been going for hardly a year, Denice and Jane were still around to take charge of everything, and Kevin was mostly concentrating on trying to find jobs that would let him leave for days at a time to sing. And trying not to miss his dad.

He failed at both, although the former didn't matter so much once they got flown to Sweden and he could actually live off his per diem. The latter. The latter still gets him, at odd moments. There isn't a day goes by that he doesn't want to grab a phone and tell his dad something, that he pauses, and thinks "oh, yeah", and maybe tries to remember whatever it was he wanted to share in his evening prayers. He prays almost every day, mostly to talk to his father.

When Kevin was Nick's age, he was still a kid, really, still living off his family, still shy, and scared, and *young*.

Nick, though.

Nick is an adult, in every sense of the word, and Kevin wouldn't trade his childhood for anything, but sometimes he thinks Nick grew up easier, because even when people expected him to act maturely, even when they ran off to push their four younger children into stardom, they didn't dump all their responsibilities on his shoulders. They didn't make him a father/older brother/mentor/friend whatever it was he was. He's not sure, even now, except that whatever it was, it was an awful lot like what his brothers were to him, right after his dad. There's nothing about his father's death that makes him *grateful*, but it did prepare him for Nick.

Nothing could have prepared him for Justin.

Nothing could have prepared him for discovering, when he thought he was safely grown-up and self-aware, that things were totally and completely different, and that this man, this just-yesterday-a-boy, would be the one to open up his world.

Nothing could have prepared him for the friction of lips on stubble, the clash of muscles, the sight of Justin beneath him, biting chapped lips, eyes wide open, staring at him until neither of them could focus on anything.

Justin is everything like Nick, and nothing, same life, same quick awakening and pull to maturity, and yet totally and completely different. Which is a good thing, because Nick is still Kevin's son/younger brother/charge/friend, and Justin is just himself, and Kevin feels grown up for the first time in 11 years without feeling *old*.

He runs a hand over Justin's head, newly shaved, and with one finger in a beltloop pulls Justin closer.

"Hey," Justin says, grinning, and Kevin kisses him. It's hot, the slide of tongues, breath hissing from between their teeth, a hand sliding down his back, stroking the curve of his ass, and Kevin shudders.

"Love you," he murmurs, and makes a note to pray before bed.