Title: In the Dark
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters do not belong to me. I write and post for fun only.
Summary: Sequel to ‘Stepping Out’. Lying next to Nick in the dark, Gil starts to come to terms with his feelings.

The a/c kicks on with a low hum and the sudden rush of cool air drying the sweat on his skin makes Gil shiver. He fumbles in the dark for the sheet to cover himself, but most of it is trapped under a dozing Nick. He tugs at a corner experimentally and Nick mumbles and shifts a little. It’s not enough to free the sheet, so Gil resigns himself to the slight discomfort and tries to fall asleep.

In the time they’ve been together, if you can really call it that, Gil’s only stayed over at Nick’s twice. Once when they’d both had a little too much too drink and had decided that Nick’s house was within walking distance (they later figured out it was over five miles, but somehow that night it hadn’t seemed that far away), and now. He looks around him, seeing only shades of gray and the fuzzy outlines of furniture in the dark, and he tries to remember the color of the bedspread and the carpet and if the closet is light or dark wood.

Next to him, Nick mumbles again and turns over onto his stomach. He’s an active sleeper, constantly twisting and turning, occasionally muttering or calling out. He warned Gil about it the second or third time they slept together. “If it gets to being too much, just shove me out of bed. Chances are I won’t even wake up,” he said laughingly. He was so light-hearted and matter-of-fact about it that Gil assumed that Nick has slept like this ever since he was a little boy. Sometimes though, Nick whimpers, his muscles lock and he starts sweating; Gil is sure this is a recent addition and he wonders if Nick is even aware of it.

He shouldn’t be here, not when there are so many loose ends, but he hasn’t been very good at making decisions or at sticking with them lately. It’s easy when he’s alone; he can theorize, assume what others’ reactions will be, pretend those reactions won’t matter to him. But when it comes to the crunch, he has no willpower. And he hadn’t expected Nick to deliver an ultimatum. Had he though? When Gil thinks back to the scene in his office, he doesn’t remember Nick ever saying, or even implying, the words ‘or else.’ At the time, however, that’s all he heard: that everything might end right there and then, that the decision was being taken out of his hands. He realized that all the anger and bitter disappointment he’d felt only a few hours before Nick confronting him was just a defense mechanism, a severe case of sour grapes.

A strange whirring sound distracts him and it takes a moment for him to realize that it’s his phone vibrating on the night stand. He reaches over and picks it up, holding it at arm’s length in an effort to make out the caller ID. Sara. He wonders if it’s business or personal; either way he can’t just ignore it. He rolls over to sit on the edge of the bed, and flips the phone open, trying to speak quietly so that he doesn’t wake Nick.

“Gilbert? I can hardly hear you.”

He clenches his jaw so tight it hurts. “What is it?”

“Greg and I think we have something. When are you coming in?”

Despite the fact that his heart jumps at the thought of a breakthrough in Warrick’s case, he’s suspicious about Sara’s motives for calling him. She never used to check in until she was certain she had something, and now she just thinks she does.

“Can it wait?” he asks, then jumps slightly as he feels an arm snaking its way around his stomach and warm lips on the small of his back.

Sara makes a little sound of surprise. “Oh. Of course. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” he answers before he can stop himself, then hangs up and puts the phone back on the nightstand. That last response really didn’t serve any purpose.

“D’ you have to go in?” Nick’s voice is drowsy, his accent stronger than normal.

“No. It’s alright.”

Nick’s arm tightens around his waist. “Then lie down again. It’s still early.”

Gil allows himself to be pulled back so that he’s lying against Nick’s chest and resting his head on Nick’s shoulder. Nick and he have never cuddled and he’s not altogether comfortable with it. Ordinarily positions like these are the starting point for sharing confidences and exchanging sentiments, and Gil isn’t ready to do that with Nick. In truth, he’s never been ready to do that with anyone. He lies tensely, waiting for Nick to begin, wondering if Nick is waiting for him to begin, until he realizes from the sound of his breathing that Nick has fallen asleep again. He slowly relaxes, allowing himself to enjoy the warmth of Nick’s body against his.

Not for the first time he wonders about Nick’s feelings for him. In the past he’s shied away from such speculation, unready for any conclusions it might lead to. He certainly hasn’t asked Nick. Knowing one way or another would mean that he would then have to settle on how he feels about Nick. Somehow the lack of real knowledge is comforting; he doesn’t need to make any long-term decisions or alter his course.

Still, his course is being altered, isn’t it? Sara is pushing him one way, and Nick is pulling him another, and while he finally managed to understand what Sara wants, he has no real idea of what Nick expects from him. He tries to think back to when he was Nick’s age, to remember if he’d been looking for permanence in his relationships back then or if he’d already decided that he was best alone. He’s never been so cynical as to not believe in love; he’s just never really believed in it for himself. At least not the kind of romantic love that would make him think he can forsake all others, even himself, for somebody else.

Nick shifts underneath him, and he raises himself slightly to allow the movement, then lies back on his pillow. In the dark, with Nick sleeping next to him, it’s easier for him to imagine that they’ve always been like this and to admit that there’s one future he wants above all others; it’s easier to forget that they both have obligations and ties that could pull them apart at any time, and that he doesn’t really know Nick very well.

Maybe if he wasn’t in so deep, maybe if he was younger, maybe if he bought into the ‘better to have loved and lost’ bullshit, maybe then it would be easier for him to figure out a way forward. As it is, he’s paralyzed with indecision. If it all turns bad, it won’t be because he did anything to make it go that way. Boy, what a consolation that will be, he thinks ironically.

The alarm clock buzzes and Nick groans. He shuts it off and then turns on his side and flings an arm across Gil’s chest. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Sleep well?”

“Fine.”

“Who was that on the phone?”

He can’t come up with a lie quickly enough. “Greg and Sara think they have something.”

Nick sits up abruptly, suddenly looking wide awake. “Really? What?” he asks excitedly.

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“It was Sara. I didn’t…” Gil stops talking and just shrugs uncomfortably.

Nick stares at him for a couple of seconds, then reaches for his own phone and dials a number, hanging up almost immediately. After a couple of seconds, the phone rings, and Nick flips it open.

“Yes?” he asks in a impatient voice, then winks at Gil. “I called you? Sorry, man, I must have pressed speed dial by mistake. I hope I didn’t wake you…. Oh, you’re still at work? What’s up? Uh huh… Uh huh…”

Gil watches as Nick’s eyebrows climb in surprise.

“Whose? Weird… Uh huh… OK, Greg, see you later. Yeah, I should be there in about an hour.”

Nick hangs up and stares silently at the phone in his hand.

“What?” Gil asks impatiently, when it become obvious that Nick isn’t going to say anything. “Nick, what?”

“They matched a fingerprint they found on the inside of Warrick’s car to McKeen.”

“I don’t understand.”

“One fingerprint. On the passenger door, right underneath the window,” Nick says slowly, sounding slightly sick. “The same area was covered with GSR.” He finally looks up at Gil. “What does it mean, Gil?”

It means I should have taken Sara’s call, Gil thinks. It means I let my personal stuff stand in the way of the investigation. He feels a surge of anger and he’s not sure if it’s aimed at Sara, Nick, himself, or this whole impossible situation.

“I have to go,” he says, getting up and pulling on his pants.

Nick gets up as well and comes to stand in front of him. For a second Gil meets his worried eyes, then he turns his attention to his belt.

“Gil. I know what you’re thinking. Don’t.”

Gil shakes his head and reaches for his shirt.

“Stop this,” Nick says. “You couldn’t have known.”

“No, I couldn’t. But the fact remains that we’ve wasted hours, because I can’t keep my professional and my personal lives separate.” Gil finishes buttoning his shirt. “I can’t go on like this, Nick. This has got to stop.”

Nick flinches, then steps back and puts his hands on his hips.

“Warrick was my best friend. And I let him walk out of that diner alone and he was shot. How do you think I feel?”

“You’re not to blame.”

“And Warrick flipped a coin with me for an assignment that led to my being ...taken. It was his idea. How do you think he felt until y’all found me?” Nick ends angrily.

“Nick, this conversation isn’t getting us anywhere.” He looks around for his socks and shoes and sits on the bed to pull them on. “I’ve got to get to work.”

“Gil.” Nick’s voice is softer, almost pleading. “I know how you feel. I’ve been there. Hell, I’m there right now. You’re not going to feel better shutting me out. We’re not the problem.”

Gil hesitates for a second, then pushes himself off the bed. “I have to go,” he says again, but now he’s trying to convince himself rather than Nick.

Nick must hear the uncertainty in his voice, because he steps closer to him and reaches up to cup Gil’s shoulder, his thumb working at the tight muscles in his nape. Gil doesn’t resist the ministration; in fact he leans slightly into it.

“Okay. I’ll be in myself in about half an hour. Gil…” Nick stops and licks his lips nervously.

“What?”

“I’m here for you. I promised. Remember?”

Gil nods and Nick smiles tightly.

“But you gotta let me. I can’t keep on doing this on my own. After we solve this case, you’re going to have to reach a decision about us.” He leans in and kisses Gil. “If I’m going to keep chasing after you, I’d kinda like to know that you’re willing to chase after me once in a while, as well,” he whispers.

Gil lifts his hand and traces Nick’s cheek, feeling the rough stubble under his fingertips. “Don’t give up on me,” he says thickly, the words pushing themselves out almost against his will. He’s never done this before; he’s over fifty, he’s had more affairs than he cares to remember, and he’s never put himself in someone else’s hands like this. He doesn’t know if it’s exhilaration or terror that’s making him feel nauseous.

Nick cups Gil’s hand in his, pressing it against his cheek, and turns his head to kiss Gil’s palm. “You have to go,” he says softly. “I’ll be there in a little bit.” He squeezes Gil’s hand, then drops it.

It’s not what Gil is expecting to hear, and for long seconds he stands there, trying to read the expression in Nick’s brown eyes, numbly waiting for something more.

“You have to go,” Nick repeats gently.

Gil takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. He nods briskly and turns on his heel. He’s at the bedroom door, when he hears Nick call his name. He stops, but he doesn’t turn around.

“I won’t give up on you,” Nick promises quietly.

Gil’s vision blurs. He opens his eyes wide trying to stop the sudden tears, and he can’t speak around the lump in his throat, so he just nods again and walks hurriedly out of the room.

He’s half way to the lab before his breath has steadied and he can start thinking about the case again.