Title: Counting Sleep
By: it-glitters
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: I actually wrote a purely romantic fic. It's dedicated to chemfishee and has been beta'd by the wonderful geekwriter143
Summary: Romantic fic - Nick is obsessed with Greg's sleep.***
Thirteen, fourteen…dammit. Nick lost count of Greg's eyelashes again. The highest he had gotten was twenty-three, since it was hard to keep track when Greg kept moving.Nick sighed and moved in closer to his sleeping partner. Greg was never still, not even in his sleep, but Nick was never angry that Greg moved. It brought him peace to feel the movement, to listen to the deep breathing of Greg's contented sleep, and to hear Greg's happy little snores.
He started to count again. One, two, three... and then Greg's eyelids started to flutter open. Nick held his breath, hoping that Greg wouldn't actually wake up. Greg closed his eyes and flung himself onto his side, slamming his leg and arm over Nick's body and pulling him in tight.Their noses were nearly touching as Nick started to count again. It was harder this time since Greg's lashes were a little blurry so close up. He counted anyway. He got up to twelve before Greg snuggled into his neck and made it impossible to see his eyelashes anymore.
Nick wrapped his arm around Greg and slid his fingers into Greg's hair. He separated a small section and began to count. Counting things on Greg was Nick's version of counting sheep. It was just that sometimes he got too involved with counting and watching Greg to actually go to sleep.
Greg's breath was hot on his collarbone, but Nick didn't mind. He let go of the bit of hair he'd been counting and settled for counting each hot puff of air as it settled against his skin. He wanted to count Greg's heartbeats, but their hearts were too close together for Nick to get an accurate number. He knew, however, that each beat was coming steadily, one after the other.
He had never let Greg know about his nighttime obsession, not about the counting or the staring. He didn't know why he hadn't ever mentioned it, but he supposed that he didn't want Greg to worry. He didn't need Greg to worry about him getting enough sleep. He had enough to worry about. Nick just wanted to keep it to himself. It was his special indulgence, something that only he knew about.
Greg moved again and tightened his leg around Nick's body. Nick lost count of the breaths. He had been somewhere in the nineties, but he didn't mind starting again. One, two, three... each one coming out evenly, strongly. Nick started to feel himself growing sleepy.
Unconsciously, his breathing synched with Greg's. Their chests touched on each breath in, parting only slightly with each exhale. Nick continued to count each one.
Greg started to smack his lips and hum contentedly. Nick wondered what Greg was dreaming about. Something good, he knew, since the nightmares caused a different, though still familiar, pattern in Greg's sleep. Nightmares were accompanied by restless legs and soft, frightened whimpers. If it was one of Greg's sex dreams, it would have started with shallow breaths soon followed by an erection, which, even in his sleep, Greg always managed to thrust gently against Nick's hip.
Nick knew every cycle of Greg's sleep. Sometimes when Greg would wake, he would tell Nick about the dreams he could remember. Nick already knew whether they had been good or bad based on the way Greg had slept. He never let on that he already knew, he would just listen intently to Greg's vivid descriptions.
Nick loved those early morning talks. He always set the alarm for fifteen minutes sooner than they needed to get up, knowing that it would take a while for the haze of sleep to fade. That was his favorite time. That was when Greg would sit up in their bed and rest his back against the wall. He would talk animatedly while Nick just gazed up at him from the pillows. Those times were after the pleasant dreams; after the dreams that made Greg smack his lips and hum.
After the nightmares or the sex dreams, they would make love. The alarm would go off and Greg would just roll into him, needing him the moment his eyes opened and his brain flicked on. After the nightmares, their lovemaking was slow and desperate, just clinging to one another to prove that they were really alive, really safe in each other's arms. After the sex dreams, it was more frantic, Greg desperate to come and Nick desperate to please him. It never mattered that they both had morning breath or that they only had fifteen minutes. For those fifteen minutes, they were the only two people in the world.
Greg continued to hum softly in his sleep, and Nick felt his eyelids starting to grow heavy. Greg was soft and warm and real and no one could take that from him. Greg was in his arms, and, in the sanctuary of their bed, that was all that mattered.
***
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