Concerning the Aformentioned

Title: Concerning the Aformentioned
By: Mickeylover303
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Words: 672
Summary: By all means, Warrick thought (or rather knew) he was a sensible man...when it came to certain things.

***

“So…” Warrick began somewhat uneasily as he opened his locker door, the hinges squeaking as he slightly tilted his head towards Nick. “You and Greg, huh?”

“Yeah,” Nick replied slowly as he looked warily at the other man; body tense and his mouth on the verge of forming into a frown. “Not that you have a problem with that…right?”

“Nah, man.” Warrick shook his head in a casual manner, not at all intimidated by the underlying threat in Nick’s words. He took off his shirt, wrinkling his nose at the lingering smell of the alcohol a suspect spilled on his shirt earlier.

“Just wondering, you know. Since you neglected to actually tell me about it,” Warrick said, not able to keep the accusatory note out of his voice.

Nick seemed to immediately relax, but didn’t say anything to Warrick’s jibe as he opened his own locker door.

“How’s he doing, now?” Warrick tried again, not wanting to drop their conversation just yet.

Nick paused in his actions before he began to pull his shirt over his head; the fabric muffling his voice. “Good…better.”

“I’m not what?” Nick asked as he pulled his shirt over his stomach, the expression on his face contorting into one of confusion.

Warrick waited uncomfortably and pretended to busy himself, searching his locker for the extra shirt he already held in his hand. “Nothing, never mind,” he eventually said, shaking his head as he unfolded his shirt.

“No, what?” Nick asked, a curiosity creeping into his voice that promised the kind of persistence that Nick was known for. “What were you going to ask me?”

“Nothing,” Warrick said again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You think I’m – Wait, wait a minute, now.” Nick cocked his head to the side, any traces of the slight tension between them from earlier now gone. He crossed his arms, leaning against the lockers as he turned to Warrick. He blinked deliberately – once, twice – before giving his full attention to the man beside him. “Are you grilling me, Warrick?” he asked, a burgeoning smirk accompanying the incredulity in his voice.

Warrick ignored the perceptive look on his friend’s face, refusing to admit or deny anything. “And you think this because…?” he asked, trying to keep an air of indifference concerning the current topic of discussion.

Nick made a choking sound that quickly became genuine laughter, the sound tinged with a hint of surprise but still somehow managing to be patronising. “I can’t believe-“

“So, I can’t be curious, now?” Warrick asked pointedly, focusing his attention on buttoning his shirt and not on the fact that Nick still hadn’t wiped that inane grin off his face.

“There’s curiosity and then there’s-”

“I’m Greg’s friend, too,” Warrick cut in sharply; partly angered but mostly self-conscious because of the situation he placed himself in.

There was a moment of silence between them, and Warrick could still feel Nick’s gaze on him as he continued to fix his shirt. But at least Nick wasn’t laughing anymore.

“What?” Warrick asked, turning to the other man whose stare had yet to waver.

Nick shrugged, moving closer to Warrick. “Nothing. I just never thought you of all people would get defensive on me about Greg.”

“What makes you think I didn’t talk to Greg about it?”

“Greg would have told me,” Nick said without hesitation, and Warrick noted how the corners of Nick’s mouth were beginning to lift again.

Warrick coughed, clearing his throat before his eyes finally made contact with Nick’s. “Well, I know you, and you know the deal,” he said, not bothering to clarify the meaning behind his words.

Nick’s mouth turned into a full-fledged smile, eyes softening even as Warrick slammed his locker door shut, the sound of the metal clanging not deterring the almost grateful expression on Nick’s face.

Warrick brushed past Nick, straightening his collar before stopping at the entrance of the locker room; hand resting on the wall and back turned to the other man. “And Nick…”