Title: First Time For Everything
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Note: Beta'd by the good egg Catlover2x.
Summary: For the first time, Greg is scared of initiating something with Nick. Written for the LJ csianti_block challenge #3 "Popping Cherries".

***

It had to happen eventually - and six years into their relationship - Greg Sanders was the one who was scared of trying something new. It had always been him trying to coax Nick into doing something he was reticent about, whether it was standing on a surfboard for the first time or getting on stage to sing karaoke at the lab Christmas party.

But lately it had been Greg to change the subject, or fob it off with promises to talk later, or his favourite excuse "I can't share my Nicky with anybody else" whenever his partner tried to talk about the possibility of having children. He had regretted how it would make Nick's face fall, even though he covered it up quickly. Nick came from a large family, and his siblings had gone on to have their own families - holidays at the Ranch were, at first, a daunting affair of noise and spectacle. Greg knew Nick wanted children one day, but it seemed like the odds were against them. He had heard Nick discussing it on the phone with his sister Beth one night, the words "˜surrogacy' and "˜adoption' had been bandied about, and then the comment that felt like a punch to the gut: "Greg's a little skittish. He thinks having kids means he'll have to grow up."

He knew Nick didn't mean anything by it, but it still felt like an insult. As if Nick was casting aspersions upon his maturity. So Greg liked to play the fool - the eternal brat"”a bit, but he was deadly serious about things that mattered; his job, his relationship, his friendships. If they took children on, they would be a thing that mattered as well.

He didn't tell Nick he had heard him, but the phrase kept repeating itself in his head every now and again. Especially at work if somebody like Warrick or Sara gave him one of those exasperated looks they liked dishing out. He was still mulling over it when he got the call from Mara.

Mara was one of his oldest friends; they had been partners in crime ever since they were teenagers. Their friendship had survived high school, the difficult years of college and the tyranny of distance when their jobs led them to living in different states far apart from each other. They had become even more united as their original group of friends started going down the more traditional way of life - married, kids, the McMansion in the burbs. Although both he and Mara were happily paired off, they took a certain glee in laughing behind their hands at the submission to the stereotypical dream they had managed to avoid.

It was rare occasion that he was at home and answered the phone when Mara called that night. They usually had to play phone tag for at least a week before they managed to talk - it didn't help that he worked nights. But he and Nick were assigned on different cases and his had wrapped up pretty easily, while Nick had last been seen grimly poring over some bloodied artefacts in one of the labs knowing he was quite possibly about to pull a double shift.

After some small talk which did nothing to hide Mara's strange hesitancy, she managed to spit it out - she and Harry had decided they were going to try for a baby. "We're both finally at the same stage where we want one now," she had told him, her voice all but begging for his approval.

"Wow, that's great," he had replied numbly. And he was happy for her, but there was a selfish part of him who was thinking, "˜Well, that's that then. It's only me who's left now'.

"Are you still trying to tell me you don't you ever think about it?" she had asked him, for she already knew that Nick had tried broaching the subject.

"Umm, yeah, sure," Greg replied, in what was really only a half-lie... because by avoiding it, he was still thinking about it in a way, wasn't he? "Mara, can I call you back later? My cell's ringing, it could be work."

She had replied in the affirmative, although she knew he was lying. And he knew she knew, which burned him even more. This was the first person he had made friends with in junior high, the first person he whispered his secret that he liked boys and girls to, the first person he had gotten drunk with... and he couldn't even have an honest discussion with her about what he was feeling. If he couldn't talk to her, and he couldn't talk to Nick, then who the fuck was left?

He sighed and threw himself onto the sofa, which was starting to age and he was sagging into it a little further than was actually comfortable. How could they have a family if they couldn't even manage a functioning sofa?

Taunting him, within easy reach, was a photo on the coffee table of Nick surrounded by his small army of nieces and nephews. It was taken last Thanksgiving. Nick, the only member of his family without kids, posing with reminders that he had none. And Nick was good with kids; every kid they ever came across loved Nick, knowing on some primeval level that he was the most trustworthy person they could know. He remembered Nick's sister Kat watching them at play and saying wistfully "It's a shame..." before her other sisters glared her into silence.

It's a shame.

He hoped it wasn't a kneejerk reaction he was having, of being the last in his group of friends. The eventual submission into maturity, society dictating that they had to be a certain way to gain the status of adulthood. But he looked down at the photo again, saw the gleam in Nick's eyes, and tried to imagine for the first time his beautiful partner as a father. He imagined a little Nick, or a little Greg running around after them, and as bizarre as the concept seemed it was a pleasing one as well.

I am not getting a house in the 'burbs, though, he shuddered. And no baby talk. And the kid will be dressed well, no cutesy clothes. A pair of Baby Doc Martens would be cool. And okay, one Tigger pantsuit, with the ears and the tail...

He jumped up, as if he had been burned. I'm going fucking crazy.

In the kitchen he poured himself a shot of Nick's bourbon, even though he usually hated the taste of it (unless he was tasting it while kissing him). He downed it quickly, and then against his better judgement took a second shot. He winced as fire rocketed down his throat and burned his stomach, then spreading throughout his veins. His hands shook slightly as he twisted the cap on the bottle and placed it back in the cabinet. He leaned against the kitchen counter and jumped slightly at the sound of a key in the front door.

Nick entered, looking tired and miserable. But as he turned to see Greg his face lit up. "Hey, babe. Got a break on the case and got off earlier than I thought."

Greg studied the smile, felt his heart lighten at it, and for a brief instant saw the ghostly images of two children yet to come run toward their father as he closed the door.

"G?" Nick asked, as he hung up his jacket. "Are you okay?"

Greg shook his head as if to clear the muddled thoughts away. He didn't know if what he was about to say meant an immediate jump into parenthood, or whether it would just be an acceptance and a happiness that they both now wanted it and would take it as it came, but he knew that what he was going to say would change everything between them. Not for worse, not for the better; just different, and just as good.

"Do you want a drink?" he asked, as Nick crossed over to him. "I have to talk to you about something."

A horrified look instantly crossed Nick's face, and Greg had to immediately jump in.

"No, no. It's good, I swear."

Raising a quizzical eyebrow, Nick gave him a gentle kiss of greeting, which Greg returned hungrily.

"It's all good," Greg breathed.

***