Title: Looking for Home
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil/Nick, Nick/OMC
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters do not belong to me. I write and post for fun only.
Summary: Sequel to A Man of Turmoil. Series 5

Nick frowns at the printout of the ad in his hands and then looks around.

“The ad says three rooms.”

“Yes, yes, three rooms. One, two, three!” the landlady tells him eagerly, pointing out the hallway, a room the size of cell and what Nick supposes could be termed a small cupboard, if one were feeling generous. Which he’s not.

“It’s not quite what I’m looking for,” he says. “Thanks, anyway.”

“You theenk about it for a while. No say no yet. Theenk!” the landlady leers at him.

He beats a hasty retreat back to his truck and wearily checks out the next address. It’s only a ten-minute drive away and he decides he can fit in one more viewing before going to work. The ad promises a light and airy living space, which probably means there’s no roof, but what the hell.

The house has a roof, but it’s also opposite a school, which will mean a lot of noise and traffic just as he’s getting home and hoping to catch some sleep, so he doesn’t even slow down.

 

“How’s the search going?”

“Don’t get me started,” Nick groans.

“That good, huh?” Warrick grins at him. “I told you, man. You should buy. You’re not going to get lucky twice with renting.”

Nick shrugs. Through the years he’s thought of buying, he’s even looked at a couple of houses for sale, but something keeps holding him back. Owning a house feels far too permanent; it means that he’s ready to settle, grow roots in Las Vegas. But he’s not ready, not by a long shot. Other than the job, there’s nothing to keep him here. Not really. And every job eventually ends.

“Did you look at those apartment communities out around East Russell?”

He did. They’re the first thing he looked at, liking the idea of a pool and a gym in close proximity. He hated them. In fact he’s hated everything he’s seen so far. Every place is either too big or too small, too far from work or too close to the center, too old, too new, too expensive, too bright, too dark, too whatever. The truth is that he resents having to move like this. It’d be different if he were going someplace, like when he first came to Las Vegas. Now it feels as if he’s being chased away against his will. On the other hand it’s like he told Grissom: he no longer feels safe in his home, even though he’s reinforced the locks on all the windows and doors and installed a complicated alarm system.

“Well, I’ll keep my eyes open for you, man. Something’s bound to come up.”

“Yeah,” Nick says dubiously. “Thanks.”

 

During breakfast with the team, the conversation moves back to Nick’s luck, or lack thereof, in finding a new place to live. He wishes they’d pick a different topic, especially when Catherine and Sara start drilling him on what exactly he’s looking for, and then start disagreeing between themselves on whether he should be looking in one of the older or the newer neighborhoods for a house or for an apartment. Warrick rolls his eyes at him and smiles, then gets up from the table.

“Interesting as this all is, I’m beat. See you tonight, after the women have sorted you out.”

Nick wishes he could follow, but it seems rude when Catherine and Sara are supposedly trying to help him. After unsuccessfully trying to interject a few comments of his own, he resigns himself to rearranging toothpicks on the table.

“Did you check out that place posted on the board in the break room? The price sounded pretty reasonable.” Sara asks him suddenly.

“No, I didn’t notice it. Do you remember the location?”

“Ummm, close to Paradise Park I think. East Tomkins?”

“I’ll swing by the lab again and check it out right now,” Nick says, relieved to have found a valid reason to make his escape. What he really wants to do is go straight home and sulk, but the thought of facing Sara later that night keeps him honest. The least he can do is get the ad, call and try and arrange an appointment.

As luck would have it, the landlord is available and can show him the apartment immediately. Nick thanks him, and heads for the exit. On the way out, he notices that the door to Grissom’s office is open and the light on, and he decides to stop by. Grissom is sitting at his desk, which is covered with files and papers, but he’s actually leaning back in his armchair, reading a journal.

“Hey, Griss. Working on HR stuff?”

Grissom looks surprised, then slightly shame-faced, and finally he smiles.

“Yes,” he says smoothly. “Exactly. Working hard.”

“Uh huh. I can see that.”

Grissom closes the journal, keeping a finger between the pages to mark his spot.

“What are you doing back here?”

“Sara told me she’d seen an ad for an apartment rental, so I thought I’d check it out.”

“How’s the search going so far?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Personally I’ve always found the search a pain in the ass. And that pales in comparison to the pain of the move itself.”

“Yeah. Well. I suppose finding someone willing to help you move poisonous spiders and carnivorous beetles is pretty difficult.”

Grissom laughs. “I generally go for less exotic and more benign roommates.”

Nick’s not quite sure how to respond to that, so he decides to ignore it. “Anyway, I gotta go. See you later, Griss.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

 

It’s not until he turns the final corner that he realizes that the apartment he’s about to see is less than two blocks away from Brian’s house. He sits in his truck, the engine idling, trying to work out what he should do. Even if he likes the apartment, he doesn’t think he wants to live this close to Brian. On the other hand, he hasn’t seen anything he likes so far. What if this is the place? Besides which, what are the odds they’ll ever run into each other? And so what if they do?

Finally, he decides that if nothing else, good manners demand that he show up for his appointment.

“My granddaughter lived here, but she just got married. Maybe you know her? Janet Rhys?”

Nick nods. “Yeah. She’s on days, right?”

“That’s right. She wanted to sell, but I figured in this market we’re better off renting, especially if it also helps out somebody in the LVPD. I was in the force myself. 40 years.” He waves his hand to indicate the apartment. “What do you think?”

It’s great, Nick thinks. It’s exactly what he’s been looking for, even though he didn’t know it until now. He wanders though the rooms and wishes with all his heart he’d never seen it, because he really can’t pass it up now that he has.

“It’s nice,” he says inadequately. “But…”

“Listen, I like you. That’s how I am, I make up my mind quick. I’ll knock 10% off the rent if you make up your mind right now. You wouldn’t believe some of the people that came here looking at this. I’m really surprised at the ilk of some of Janet’s co-workers. 10% off if we sign right now.”

Nick tries to weigh the options, but there’s only one thing he wants to say.

“Okay. Done.”

“Great. Standard terms, 3 months deposit, minimum one year lease but you can have it longer if you want. I’ll need references and to run a credit check, but if you pass, it’s yours.”

“I thought you wanted to sign right now,” Nick protests.

“Listen, sonny, I like you, but business is business.”

“Okay. Let me know. I work graveyard, so just leave a message on my voicemail if I don’t pick up.” Nick takes out a business card, writes his social security number and private phone number on the back of it and hands it to the old man.

“Will do, Nick. I’ll be in touch by tomorrow.”

 

Nick can’t resist driving by Brian’s house. He unconsciously slows down as he studies the façade. The blinds are shut and the sprinkler is on in the front yard. He wonders if Brian is home. An image of Brian lying asleep on his stomach, his face tucked into the crook of his elbow flashes in Nick’s mind, causing a sharp tug in his heart. There are moments he misses Brian so much that it almost hurts, even though deep down he knows that they’re not right for each other and they never were. Not for anything longer term, at any rate. All the same…

He realizes he’s now crawling along and he turns his eyes back front, starting to increase speed. And that’s when he sees him: Brian is standing on the sidewalk a few yards ahead, his hands on his hips. He’s obviously been running, his light gray T-shirt darker with sweat along his neck and down the front of his chest.

Nick stops and they stare at each other through the windshield. Brian smiles tentatively, but he doesn’t approach, so it’s left up to Nick to climb out. He stands on the driver’s side, the hood between them.

“Hey,” Brian says.

“Hey,” Nick answers almost inaudibly, his mouth dry. Somewhere in his head he hears a voice yelling at him to get back into the truck and drive away, and he doesn’t exactly ignore it, but he doesn’t think he can move.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was just in the neighborhood,” Nick says and he can tell that Brian doesn’t believe him. “How are you?”

Brian raises his arm in order to wipe his forehead on his sleeve, uncovering his tight abs for a second and Nick’s eyes are drawn to the glistening skin there. He looks back up just as Brian drops his arm again, but something in Brian’s eyes tells him that Brian saw him.

 

Later Nick thinks that if Brian had looked triumphant, or even just self-satisfied, he’d have walked away. But that’s not the way it went. Because in one split second Brian’s eyes moved from mirroring the same animal hunger and need that Nick felt, to bewilderment, as if he couldn't understand why Nick was rejecting him. And ultimately, Nick hadn’t.

He lies in bed, one arm crossed under his head, staring up at the ceiling. Brian is sleeping, in almost exactly the same position Nick had pictured him in a few hours ago, his face buried in the pillow. Nick can tell from the way the sunlight shifts outside the blinds that it’s getting to be late afternoon. He has to get up pretty soon, go home and get ready for work. His stomach rumbles, reminding him that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast. Yet he just lies there, listening to Brian breathe next to him, trying to prolong the moments of not thinking, of simply being.

Brian shifts slightly, mumbles something and then pushes his face deeper into the pillow, as if he’s fighting waking up. Nick rolls onto his side and traces a small ragged scar along Brian’s shoulder with his fingers. Brian mumbles again, then raises his head, and Nick finds himself staring into a pair of bleary gray eyes.

“Nick,” Brian croaks, as if he’s surprised to see Nick there, and his eyes grow wary.

“Bri,” Nick responds gently.

“I— what time is it?”

Nick looks at his watch.

“After five. I need to go pretty soon.”

Brian raises himself on his elbows and looks over Nick’s head at the alarm clock, as if to confirm that it’s really that late. He opens his mouth, clearly about to say something, then shuts it again and looks away.

“What?” Nick asks.

“Nothing,” Brian answers and shifts to sit on the side of the bed, his back to Nick, his elbows resting on his knees. “Jesus, I’m exhausted. Too much fucking exercise.”

Nick laughs and sits up as well. “Okay if I use the shower?”

“Help yourself,” Brian says.

“I thought you said you were exhausted,” Nick says when Brian joins him in the shower, his mind clearly not on bathing.

“Work though the pain, my coach always used to say,” Brian answers.

 

“Can I call you?” Brian asks as Nick is about to leave.

Nick pauses at the door and looks back at Brian.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly, struggling to find a truthful response that won’t imply that he’s regretting this day. If he admits to regret, even to himself, he also admits to being the kind of weak asshole who blames everybody and everything but himself for his actions. “Let’s play it by ear.”

Brian smiles crookedly. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“I’m sorry.”

Brian shrugs. “No problem. It was just a fuck,” he says, his voice hard, giving lie to the nonchalance he’s trying to convey. “Nice enough to repeat, but if you’d rather not, hey, that’s life.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what? I’m not doing anything.”

Nick sighs trying to ease the pressure that’s suddenly crushing his chest. “This isn’t how I wanted it to be. You— ”

“You’re so full of shit,” Brian interrupts him angrily. “You’re just like me, only you don’t want to admit it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were all big words about not caring if people knew you were gay. I was just the dickhead that didn’t want to come out, right? So tell me, Nick, how many people know you’re gay?” Brian waits a couple of seconds, then laughs contemptuously when Nick remains silent. “It got buried, right? One of your friends at the lab covered for you. And you let him or her do it. But you still blame me for reacting the way I did, even though I apologized for it.”

“I don’t blame you,” Nick says. “I was angry at first, but I don’t blame you.”

“Yeah, right. Whatever.” Brian turns away.

“I don’t love you,” Nick says to his back and Brian swings around, looking incredulous.

“I know that. I don’t love you either. What does that have to do with anything? As long as we don’t love anybody else, we can be together can’t we? It’s not like we’re cheating on anybody.”

“No, I guess not,” Nick says slowly, then adds in a moment of dawning truth: “But see, Brian, I feel like I am. Cheating on someone, I mean.”

Brian stares at him. “I guess I was wrong. You are in love with somebody.”

Nick shakes his head in protest, unready to go there.

“Yeah, right,” Brian repeats, only this time he sounds sympathetic rather than dismissive. “Well, you know where to find me.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “It doesn’t have to be for a fuck. We can just go out for a beer and a pizza if you want.”

He comes up to Nick and cups his cheek, then bends his head and kisses him. “If you’re in love with him, tell him. That oughta settle it one way or another. Don’t be a wuss. Tell him.”

“Tell who?” Nick asks stupidly, but Brian just laughs.

“Oh, you know who,” he drawls.