Title: The One Where Nick's a Good Friend and Warrick is a Manwhore
Author: sandersyager
Characters: Nick/Warrick pre-slash, Warrick/OMC referenced
Category: relationship, romance
Spoilers: none
Rating: PG
Summary: "It was gay at downward facing dog..."
Disclaimer: These characters belong to CBS, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Thanks to blueraccoon for letting me borrow her Stephen Bond for this. It's all her fault. Hers, and maybe edgecity, but most of what I write these days is their fault.
Related Fic: The One Where Nick Likes Chick Flicks and Warrick's Still a Manwhore

He shows up at Nick's door, three in the afternoon, chilled even though it's climbing toward ninety outside. Nick just takes a look at him and pulls him inside, parks him on the couch and forces a cup of coffee into his hands.

"He belongs in New York. You'll die in Vegas. Deal with it," Nick says. "You liked him, he liked you, he left. You knew it was coming. Stop being such a chick about it and move on." He turns on the TV, keeping the volume low, and Warrick considers getting up and leaving. Nick's got a point, he could have been less brutal about it, but it's not like he would have if the situation were reversed.

"Screw you, Stokes," he mutters, slumping further down on the sofa.

Nick leans against him, shoulder pressing against his arm. "Unless you're offering, bro, shut up and finish your brooding so I can get back to sleep."

"You and me? It'd never work," Warrick sighs, eyes focused on the game, mind mostly on Nick's thigh lined up against his. "You're right, you know? I liked him, still do. Called him this morning and some other guy answered. I just hung up, turned my phone off."

"What are you? A thirteen year old girl?" Nick looks at him with a smirk and Warrick just shrugs.

"You got one more time for that shit, and then I'm kicking your ass, princess," he says, punching Nick in the shoulder. This is what he needs, time to just be a guy, watch the game, talk shit and be a guy. "Any chance we can call for a pizza?"

Nick groans. "Man, in case you forgot, I gotta work tonight. You're lucky I let your ass in and now you want me to feed you?"

"Hey, I'm heartbroken over here and you're my best bud. Isn't that what you're supposed to do?" Warrick already has his phone out, scrolling down to the number for Luigi's.

"Fine, but you're paying and I'm getting breadsticks." Nick gives in, getting up to grab a Coke from the fridge. "And you're not keeping me up all day whining about that guy, seriously. It's what you get for hooking up with a tourist."

"He wasn't a tourist," Warrick says. He places his order, remembering to add Nick's breadsticks and getting hot wings, too, because he knows Nick wants them but won't say so until after the food has arrived. "And it's not like you'd have said no to him," he finishes after he's hung up the phone.

"Say no to you all the time, don't I?" Nick drops back onto the couch, sprawling across the far corner.

"Yeah, but you don't want me, or you'd have done something about it now."

"Man, you go through a chick a week, and at least as many guys, and if they're all anything like that architect, I really ain't your type," Nick says, nudging Warrick with his foot.

"He does yoga, Nick. Yoga and all that hair, and his mouth... I coulda been happy for a very long time," Warrick says, leaning his head back against the couch and turning to look at Nick.

"Yoga is a selling point?"

"You never saw him in downward facing dog." Warrick half-groans, sliding even further into the couch.

"I hate you."

"You love me," he answers automatically.

"Yeah," Nick nods. "I do. You'd think I'd know better by now, especially since you drag your sorry ass over here every time this happens. 'Course, I thought you'd get it by now, too." He sighs, propping a foot up on the table. "You gotta stop doing this, man. You don't fall in love, but you still fall pretty damn hard and then you crash and you end up here. That doesn't tell you anything?"

Warrick looks back at him. "Thought we already covered you being a good friend and me screwing up."

"Damn it, Warrick," Nick drawls, no heat, just affection in his voice. "You ever going to stop looking for the impossible and see what you got already?"

"What's wrong with wanting a relationship?"

"Not the point, man." Nick says softly. "Tell you what, when you get over this whole Stephen thing, let me take you out. I figure you've taken a shot at everyone else in Vegas, so..."

"What are you implying?" Warrick raises one eyebrow.

"Nothing that ain't been said before." Nick smiles innocently.

"So, I've enjoyed the company of... a lot of people. So what?"

Nick coughs. "Manwhore."

"Weren't you just trying to convince me to go on a date with you? No wonder you're always home and alone." Warrick pokes him to emphasize the last two words, choosing the places he knows Nick's most ticklish, and gets punched in the arm for it.

Nick's still laughing when he says, "It's those damned shirts, 'Rick. You buy 'em two sizes too small, can't get 'em buttoned all the way up. What am I supposed to say?"

"This from the man who thinks dressing up is switching from a black short sleeved tee shirt to the long sleeved one," Warrick smirks, getting up to answer the door.

"This conversation just got really gay. Like super gay," Nick calls.

Warrick comes back with the food and looks at Nick as he places it on the table. "It was gay at downward facing dog, nowhere to go but down from there."

"Oh, god, just shut up," Nick laughs, turning his face into the couch. "Seriously, he was just one guy, 'Rick, and you'll be okay. I'll even let you make me the rebound guy."

"How about wing man?" Warrick manages to ask with a completely straight face, handing Nick the box of chicken.

Nick just glares at him then bursts into giggles again, struggling to get to his feet to find plates and napkins. "You're so lame, but it looks like we're stuck with each other. Could be worse."

"Yeah?" Warrick's skeptical.

"Yeah. You could be moving to New York. Then who would I have crying on my shoulder?"

"I hate you."