Title: When "I'm Sorry" Just Isn't Enough
By: Read 300300
Rating: NC-17, just to be safe
Written for the Mistake Challenge
Pairing: main pairing Nick/Greg
Warnings: Slash, Language
Summary: Greg makes a huge mistake, but he’s not the only one that will have to pay for it.

Greg swallowed back a choked exclamation, clutching the letter in his hands and sitting numbly onto the couch. The words in his head seemed to twist and turn out of his grasp as he tried to comprehend the meaning of the letters on the thick paper. Glaring up at him, accusing him, the news reached into a deep part of his soul… and crushed it.

Bits and pieces of memory called to him, drawing him down into the world of ‘maybes,’ the crucial moments when he could have altered the course of his life. The mistakes he had made were glaringly obvious; the pain he would cause was even more so.

A night out in the clubs, something simple and familiar to draw him out of the funk the new duties of his job had brought. Just a simple way to relax, to let the music wash over him and calm his mind. So simple…to feel the beat of blaring drums resonate with his soul as he moved in time with the music, sweat trailing down his brow and glinting in the spray of technicolor lights flashing around the room. It was all so simple.

---

Nick smiled up at him from the couch, the commercials during the football game temporarily forgotten in lieu of examining Greg’s new gear. Greg threaded his fingers through the last of length of fishnet, checking in the side mirror to make certain the glitter had stayed put in his hair and that his eyeliner was subtle enough to not be very noticeable.

---

Greg cradled his head in his hands, the letter falling to the wayside, its crumpled edges snagging on the weave of the upholstery. The events blurred in his mind, the timing convoluted and compressed, memory upon memory blending into one single ball of pain and regret.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, the words finally coalescing into a series of repetitive thoughts. The question escaped him, but the answer did not. The answer was right there on that stupid little piece of fucking perfect white paper with its perfect little black text. Everything in black and white. Everything a clear, simple “yes” or “no.”

---

Yet there was nothing simple, nothing safe, about the patterns that the hands traced over his body. There was nothing resembling his new, safe, responsible life in the way that the blond man’s nails scratched down his back.

---

“You know, I’ve never quite gotten what you see in these clothes,” Nick laughed, standing and giving his lover a deep kiss, a small moan emanating from his chest as their tongues intertwined. “However, I have to agree that these do a little something for you.”

Greg winked, “Mmm, well, maybe I can convince you to go with me one day. Clubs are hella fun, and you would look great in eyeliner.” His eyes roved around the room, catching sight of the digital clock on the living room wall. “It’s about time for me to go on and leave.”

---

The door opened softly, and Greg looked up with a start. His eyes darted to the clock; he shook himself, surprised that he hadn’t noticed the passing of nearly a full hour. Nick walked into the house, carrying a couple of plastic bags. The groceries, Greg remembered; Nick had said that he would go get the groceries earlier that night before they had gone in to work. Milk, bread, ramen noodles, salsa, and cheese… the basic stuff that was easy to combine into simple dishes.

The insanity of the situation donned on him. It had been a normal day, and soon it would be just another normal night for the two of them. In a minute, one or the other would throw pre-made food into the oven and they would eat some semblance of dinner in about an hour, health choices be damned at this point because they were both worn out from work. Afterwards, they would take a little bit of relaxation on the couch, putting the dishes off until morning when they weren’t so exhausted. However, that tiredness wouldn’t extend to later, when their hunger was sated and other appetites came out to play. Their lips would twine in synch with their hips, sweat already beginning to bead on their bodies, the heat driving them wild in their love for each other…

---

The hands grabbed him and he turned, following their instruction, gasping as he was pushed against a wall. He moaned when fingers caressed his erection through the tight fabric of his jeans and felt the hot sweat begin anew as his pants were roughly lowered, the blond not even giving him time to say a thing before fingers were probing, sinking deep into his overheated flesh.

---

“Come home a little early, okay? I have a surprise for you,” the Texan chuckled, his voice casual and deep.

Greg nodded, checking one last time in the mirror to make certain that his hair was done properly. If there were one thing that he prided himself on, it was his hair. “This looks okay, right?”

“Well, if you’re going for that frumpy, stick in the mud look, sure.”

Greg pretended to pout, throwing in an effeminate accent just for the hell of it, “What? I can’t pull off the sexy, tousled, just got done doing it in the backseat of my car look?”

“Sexy? Hell, yeah! Come here…” Nick grabbed his lover and took him into another bruising kiss, showing him just how attractive he found the younger man to be. With a soft sigh, he finally let him go, knowing that the game was about to be back on soon. “You have no idea how hot you are… and when I think that all of this is for me… just for me…”

“Just for you,” Greg agreed, pulling back and turning to walk out the door. “See ya later, Nicky!”

---

Everything would be normal, if not for the letter carelessly sitting near him. Greg didn’t know what to do. He knew he couldn’t hide it, knew he had to tell Nick tonight. Nick had a right to know. The mistake he had made was nothing compared to the mistake he would be making if he tried to lie or, worse, not tell his lover at all.

Oh, god, Nicky…. Not only would Greg’s life change with this revelation; Nick’s would too. The thought was enough to make him nearly crumble. Realization struck him, completely and unfalteringly, stealing the breath from his lungs, and he knew he could never escape the truth.

The thought made him want to vomit. He had hurt the person for whom he cared the most, and nothing was going to be able to change that. He had made a mistake, but he wasn’t the only one that would have to pay for it.

Yet there was still a chance, still the possibility… Horror dawned on him. No, there was no other chance; he remembered that the letter in the pile, right on top of the one bearing the news to him, was addressed to Nick. Same letterhead. Same font. Bringing the same news, he supposed. He knew from where they had come: Lifeshare Blood Center. They had both given blood on the same day at work, something that the Crime Lab participated in every few months, and never had they received anything afterwards.

There was nothing that could be in that letter except an identical attempt to beat around the bush and deliver the bad news in as easy a way as possible. Yet he knew there would be no impersonality when he told his lover, no detachment that an unfeeling letter could bring. Greg wanted to delude himself—tell himself that Nick would want to use him as comfort—but he knew the truth was that Nick would probably want to kill him. Or worse, leave him and have nobody there to try to soothe the fear that Greg knew would eventually settle into the Texan’s heart.

---

Mere seconds after being forcefully shoved against the wall, Greg heard a zipper being lowered and felt the distinctive sensation of a cock pushing so deep into him that he couldn’t help the deep-throated moan that escaped him. He thought to say no, all the while knowing that he had neither the heart nor the desire to do so. It had been so long since he’d felt the heat and the passion that drove him to the brink so quickly. He winced as an especially hard thrust hammered into him, squirming between the hard wall and the even harder chest of the man behind him.

---
“Have a good time, G,” Nick called out, his attention already back on the television.
---

“G? Hey, Greg? Want to come help me put these up?” Nick called from the now-lit kitchen. When he got no response, he walked forwards into the living room, leaning against the door frame and observing his lover. “Greg, what’s wrong?”

The words nearly tumbled out of his mouth, but he thankfully held them back. It hurt to think them, much less say them. Besides, he knew that the second they passed from his lips, his life would be different.

The oddest thing was that, at the moment, all he wanted was one more day of not knowing, one more day to just be as normal as possible. One day to maybe appreciate how in love he was, how much it would hurt for him to have to give that up, how much he would hate to ever hurt Nick. He shook his head a little; those were the thoughts he should have been having at the club, not now when it was too late and he would never have those moments again. He knew that he would never be clean again.

“Nick… you should probably sit down for this.” The words came from out of nowhere, Greg’s mouth on auto-pilot while his brain was running around, acting as if it were a chicken with its head cut off.

The look on Nick’s face was one of deep concern, his eyes conveying that he had heard the odd note in Greg’s tone. Nodding, he sat down on the couch next to his partner.

“What’s up, man?” He asked, deliberately keeping his tone casual, knowing that sometimes it took a few seconds for Greg to get at what he was really saying. It was one of his lover’s quirks that he had noticed: Greg tended to cover up his real emotions with his zaniness, overplaying his loud, open nature and inherent love for the absurd to such a point that most people missed the emotional depth that he had at many times. He put on too much of a show of ‘being fine;’ once one knew him well, it was easy to tell subtle differences between when he was acting crazy and childish for fun and when it was to cover up something a littler darker. This time, Greg definitely had something going on below the surface. Even his quick smile didn’t deter the thought that something was amiss.

“Nick, I… I got a lett-” Greg shook his head, knowing that wasn’t the place to start. He knew that if the other man was going to understand at all, then he had to have some sort of reference to what Greg was feeling first. Not that he deserved to have an understanding lover at this point, he realized painfully. He sighed before starting over, “Have you ever made a big mistake? Not just a ‘threw my white dress shirt in with a red towel’ mistake, but a really, really huge mistake? Something that made you want to believe that there was no way that you could ever be a good person again?”

Stokes nodded slowly, intuitively realizing that it was not a good idea to interrupt Greg once he got started for fear of never getting him back on subject again.

“Well, I guess I’ve done something like that. I don’t—I guess I just don’t know how to tell you. I mean, I never thought it would come to this. Ever.” He inhaled sharply, part of his mind disbelieving that this was happening. “About six months ago, the last time I went to the club? Remember that?

“Well, I know it kind of surprised you that I stopped going after that, but I… I fucked up. I got totally smashed, and there was th-this guy. And he… As I said, I was drunk, and he was looking for action, and the next thing I knew… I’m so sorry, Nicky,” he ended in a murmur, catching sight of Nick’s angry, hurt eyes and seeing the way that the older man’s hands clenched into tight fists.

“You slept with him?!” Nick couldn’t keep all of the fury out of his voice; no matter how hard he tried to keep it contained, some of it still leeched into his words, turning his tone harsh.

Greg’s hands flew out in a questioning gesture. “I wasn’t… I didn’t mean for it to happen, Nick. I love you; it just did, and I don’t know how to explain it except that I was so drunk that I couldn’t even see straight. Hell, I had to call Bobby that night to bring me home since I couldn’t remember the street name.”

“Yeah, great, you can remember Bobby’s number but not our address! What? Are you sleeping with him too?” He knew that his words were venom, spoken out of pain, but he couldn’t stop them for his life. Nails dug into his palm; only minutes later did he realize that they were his own. “Are you fucking him too, Greg?!”

“God, Nicky! No! It was just the one time, I swear,” he stood as he said this, starting to pace from one side of the room to the other. “But I—there’s more.”

“Great, you’re fucking Sara too! It’s not enough that you have to play one field, you have to have everyone!”

“Goddamnit, Nick! Would you just fucking listen to me?” His voice was so loud that he knew the neighbor’s might call the police if he didn’t tone it down some; at this point, he was too upset to care. Breathing deeply, he tried to calm himself down, knowing how easy it would be to get into a primal battle of who’s the top dog at this point when they were both so pissed that they couldn’t see straight. “Listen, it was a mistake. A one time mistake, I swear! I never meant to do it, and I never wanted to do it. It just happened. I don’t know how. But you have to know that I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“But why tell me now? Why not just tell me then and get it over with?”

Greg sat down again, collecting his thoughts very briefly before he could speak. “I made another mistake by not telling you then. I should have. Maybe if I did, we wouldn’t have to be having this conversation now. Nicky… I’m positive.”

“Positive about what?” His brow cocked, giving his face a slightly confused expression.

“I’m HIV positive.” He lowered his head as he spoke. “And so are you.”