Title: Meet in Dreams
By: Caroline Crane
Fandom: CSI: Miami
Pairing: Speed/other, Speed/Delko. Sort of.
Rating: PG13 for mentions of masturbation and general patheticness
Summary: Two friends and a typical night in Miami.
Warnings: Angst. Self-pity. Nothing good can come of this.

They don't do this that often, but every time they do Tim has to wonder why. It always ends the same, with him holding court at a table near the bar, entertaining a group of girls until Eric works his way through them. Kind of like the opening act. It's not that he minds so much, because he's always been the guy girls think of a 'nice'. He doesn't really mind that either, because he is a nice guy.

The fact that he doesn't want to sleep with any of them probably helps.

This should be easy for him, these nights when Eric decides he's been spending too much time home alone with his books and his TV tuned to the Discovery Channel. He knows that's what Eric thinks of him, that he's just some egg-headed lab rat who needs someone to force him out into the real world. Out into...this, this neon-tinted Miami drama that unfolds after dark every night and isn't even close to the real world.

And he doesn't really mind; it's nice that Delko wants his company, that he thinks of Tim as a friend, at least when it's convenient. But sometimes it's hard to keep up the smile and act the part of the 'safe' friend while he can see Delko wrapped around some girl out of the corner of his eye. They're moving on the dance floor in that way that Tim knows he'll never be able to move, no matter how many lessons or drinks he has. Eric teases him about it sometimes, about his lack of rhythm and the fact that he'd be a lot better at picking up chicks if he would just learn to relax.

Tim doesn't tell him that it's not girls he's interested in picking up. He doesn't say anything to that, because he knows he'll never dance the way Eric does and he's okay with it. Sometimes, though -- sometimes he wishes Eric wasn't so damn good at it.

He knows the girls would flock to Delko anyway, that it's his easy charm and the smile that promises mind-blowing sex that draws them just as much as his prowess on the dance floor. Tim should know; that fuck me smile has featured in plenty of his own fantasies. Only Delko doesn't swing that way, and Tim's told himself at least a thousand times since they started hanging out together that he'll never be the one who ends the night warming Eric's bed.

Part of him doesn't even want to, because they work together and Tim knows better. He knows how fast that would get out of hand, exactly how messy it would be. He can picture Horatio's face when he figures it out -- and he would, that much Tim knows for certain -- and he knows how it would end. He knows that even if it happened, even if his wildest fantasies actually did come true, that it could never mean anything. He's seen Eric go through too many girls and he knows how his friend feels about commitment. Sometimes Tim even gets a little pissed on behalf of the girls Eric strings along, and he has to laugh at that because he really is as nice as they all think he is.

He's not surprised when Delko and the tiny brunette he's been dancing with head back to the table hand in hand. He picks up his drink and drains the glass so Eric won't notice the slight tremor that rolls through him when his friend leans over to whisper in his ear. Instead he focuses on the chosen girl as she giggles with her girlfriends over her grand conquest, as though she's expecting this thing with Delko to last beyond tomorrow morning.

He almost feels sorry for her. Almost.

"We're gonna jet," Eric says, voice low and thick with the promise of sex. And that's really not fair; not fair at all, but there's nothing he can do about it. Maybe someday he'll work up the nerve to tell Delko the truth, and then Eric won't do that leaning thing anymore at all. Only that whisper is all Tim gets, and he's not sure he's willing to give it up.

He nods, smiling politely when the disappointed girls who've been hanging around waiting for their turn with Eric make their excuses and move on. They all smile a little sadly at him, like he's the pathetic guy who every girl wants to be friends with but no one wants to sleep with, but he doesn't let it bother him. Sometimes he thinks they can tell that he's not interested. Other times he's sure they just feel sorry for him, but in the end it doesn't really matter.

He waits until they've all moved on and forgotten all about him before he stands up and makes his way across the dark room. He's felt eyes on him for awhile now, returned a glance or two between smiling politely at Eric's leftovers and watching Eric himself. That's all over now, though, because Eric's gone home with some girl whose name he won't remember in the morning, and Tim's free to seek his own company for the rest of the night.

Sometimes Tim wonders if Eric would believe him even if he did tell him the truth. He wonders if anyone would believe that he has a life outside the lab; it's not like the rest of them aren't married to their jobs, after all, so really he's no different than Calleigh or Horatio. Except for this...this secret that has nothing to do with the Discovery Channel and going home to his apartment to sleep alone.

The guy who's been eyeing him for almost an hour now is tall and dark, with a crooked smile and just enough muscle to fill out the t-shirt he's wearing. He's pretty in a masculine way, and just familiar enough to remind Tim of someone he can't have. Part of him hates himself for doing this; that same part of him wants him to turn around, to go home alone and fantasize about Eric while he jerks off. But there are times when fantasies and his own hand just aren't enough anymore, and it's not as though he doesn't know he's this pathetic.

That dazzling smile looks a little too familiar when the guy leans close and whispers in his ear, and Tim feels a little sick for a second. "Looks like your friend bailed on you."

"Yeah." He pretends not to hear the regret in his voice. Making small talk isn't what he wants right now; none of this is what he wants, but he's not too proud to take the next best thing.