Title: Faded Paper
By: juneprota
Pairing: Greg/Warrick
Author's Note: This is one of those stories that I will always feel there's room for improvement, but for now I'm setting it free from the editor's pen.
Summary: Sequel to Vegas Native Rule #1. As the years pass, Greg and Warrick seem to find each other again and again.
Greg returned home winter break and promised himself he wouldn't contact Warrick. He knew it'd be too hard talking to him and not being with him, knowing that Warrick would eventually find someone else. He didn't want to put himself through that kind of torture.
In the end, it turned out he had no self control. He called Warrick within 30 minutes of arriving home, before he had finished unpacking his bags. He called the next day too, and the one after that. Eventually the calls dwindled as they're apt to do. Greg was busy with school, paintballing, hanging out...all that stuff teenagers do. And Warrick was doing all the things that young professionals do...working, clubbing, going to bars, meeting new people.
The call wasn't completely out of the blue. They had just talked two weeks before, but Warrick wasn't expecting to hear Greg's voice when he picked up the phone. He definitely wasn't expecting the news Greg had to share. "So, I'm going to be in Vegas for a few days next week."
Warrick was automatically suspicious. "Really?"
He could hear the pout in Greg's voice. "Don't sound too excited about it, now."
Warrick lowered his voice. "You know I'd love to see you." He coughed to clear his throat. "So why are you coming?"
"To see you of course."
"And you told your parents that?" Warrick shook his head at the question. A fucking teenager.
"I told them I'm checking out UNLV and I am. I have an admissions interview."
Warrick sighed and shook his head again. Greg was making him feel old. "Greg..."
"I don't want to hear it Vegas. I'm old enough to make my own decisions. My only question is...are you going to make me book a hotel room?"
"You know I wouldn't." Warrick searched for a pen and paper. "When are you getting in?"
"Babe, I'm so so sorry. I got called in on a case and can't pick you up. I left a key and some cash under that fucking gnome outside the apartment building. Love ya. Bye." Greg shook his head as he listened to the voicemail on his way to baggage claim. Warrick had been bitching about the garden gnome for the last month. He was disappointed that he wouldn't see Warrick right away, but just being in the city made him feel better.
During the cab ride, Greg thought about the reason for his semi-impromptu trip. Over the last few months, Greg had missed Warrick more than he thought possible. He wanted to be with him, not in four years, now. If he could just show Warrick how good they would be together...
When Greg's cab pulled up to the building, he had to admit Warrick had a point. The gnome was an eyesore. Greg paid for the cab ride and walked over to the gnome. The key and some cash was under it just as Warrick had said it would be. He let himself in and up the two flights of stairs to Warrick's apartment. On the door was a post-it note written in Warrick's barely legible handwriting. "Make yourself at home." So Greg did. He left his shoes at the door next to Warrick's, hung up his coat in the hall closet, and set Warrick's cash on the coffee table. He didn't need it. He took his suitcase into the bedroom and found a few empty hangers in the closet along with a post-it on a one dresser drawer. "It's yours if you need it." Greg unpacked his clothes and pushed his empty suitcase under the bed. He took his toiletries into the bathroom and found space amongst Warrick's in the medicine cabinet and shower shelves.
He brought Warrick's present into the kitchen and unwrapped it. Honestly, it was more of a present to himself than Warrick. He hooked up the coffee machine and put the Blue Hawaiin in the freezer. Once it was all set up, he spent the next 20 minutes searching for the take-out menus Warrick hid from company. He finally found them under the sink behind a huge unused crock-pot that Greg guessed was a gift from his grandmother.
Greg placed his order with a Chinese restuarant close by and went in search of Warrick's post-its. It was an ah-ha moment when he found them in the music/office/junk room.
Warrick took the post-it off his front door and read it as he walked in. "My home is a lot messier." The message made him smile. He took off his shoes at the doorand hung his jacket next to Greg's in the closet. He approached the bedroom to find the door closed and another post-it. "If you don't wake me up, I'll kill you. If you wake me up before making some cofee, I'll kill you twice." Warrick rolled his eyes and headed to the kitchen. He wasn't even sure he had coffee in the apartment.
He hadn't noticed it when he walked in, but his $15 coffee maker was now on the kitchen table. The counter space had been filled with a new and improved coffee maker. Warrick groaned. He did not need some complicated contraption. He found the instruction munual next to the machine along with a post-it of instructions. "1. Stop bitching. It's easier than it looks." Warrick left the coffee to brew and woke Greg.
He kneeled down next to the bed. Greg was lying down on his stomach, but facing Warrick, still asleep. He took Greg's rare stillness as a chance to look him over. The sheet was resting low on Greg's hips. His back was smooth with the exception of two fading bruises on his shoulder and mid-back. Warrick brushed his fingers over them and figured they were from a the paintball game Greg had told him about a few days ago. He looked at Greg's face. His lips were parted and there was a small wet spot below them. Warrick knew he had it bad if he was beginning to think Greg's drooling was cute. Greg's hair was shorter than the last time he saw him. It made him look older...more conservative. He ran his fingers through it and woke Greg up. "Hey, babe."
Greg's eyes openend quickly. "Warrick."
Warrick smiled. "In the flesh."
Greg sat up and leaned over to kiss him.
"Don't you want your coffee?"
Greg just shook his head and smiled. "It can wait."
Two hours later they were still in bed and completely exhausted. Warrick glanced at the clock. He had somewhere to be in an hour. "Hey, do you want to meet my grandmother?"
"Grams? She's like your parent."
"Well, yeah."
Greg teased. "Four months and I'm already meeting the in-laws."
Warrick's jaw tightenend. "I was just--"
Greg wouldn't let him back out of the invite. "Warrick, I'd love to."
Warrick got out of bed. "Good, we have to be at church in an hour and I already told her I was bringing a friend. I'll start breakfast and you can grab a shower." Warrick threw on his sweats and headed to the kitchen.
He was finishing the potatoes when Greg walked in with a towel around his waist. "What should I wear?"
"What you're wearing now looks good."
Greg didn't smile or laugh. He was too tired for humor. "Ha. Ha."
"You bring a suit?"
"Yeah, for my interview."
"Wear that."
"Yes, sir." Greg was about to leave to get dressed but Warrick stopped him.
"Could you finish this up while I grab my shower?"
Greg's eyes widened. "You know I don't cook."
"I'm asking you to make sure the potatoes don't burn and to pull some Eggo waffles out of the toaster when they pop up. If you can't handle this, there's no hope for us." Warrick gave Greg a peck on the cheek and headed to the shower.
"Good to know what's at stake." Greg pulled a chair up to the stove, sat down, and stared at the potatoes.
An half hour later and they were both fed and dressed. Warrick stook in front of Greg, straightening his tie. "You know, I haven't seen you in a suit before. You clean up nice Sanders."
"You're looking pretty good yourself Vegas."
Warrick gave Greg a short kiss and squeeze to the rear. "On with the show."
After church, they ended up spending the rest of the day at Grams house. They ate a homecooked meal and Grams pulled out the photo albums filled with pictures that chronicaled Warrick's life.
"You were so cute."
Warrick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, those glasses looked great."
Greg kept looking at the polaroid. Warrick was 14 years old in it, according to the writing on the bottom and he was all attitude. The scowling teenager was wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and red hightops and sitting on what Greg recognized as Grams front steps. "Can I have it?"
"What would you want that for?"
He turned to Warrick. "I don't have any pictures of you."
Grams mumbled to herself, "where's my camera." She walked off unnoticed to search for it as Greg and Warrick continued their conversation."I want something to remember you by."
"You think you'll forget me?"
"Never."
Warrick brought his hand to Greg's face and moved in to kiss him. There was a flash and the whir of Grams Polaroid camera. She handed the photo to Greg. "For you."
As Greg and Warrick were leaving, Grams shooed Warrick. "Go on child. Wait by the car. I need to talk with Greg."Warrick rolled his eyes but silently obeyed and walked away. She turned to Greg. "You know, my grandson's never brought anyone to church before. I don't get a chance to meet many of his friends."
"Yeah, I kind of figured." Greg looked back at Warrick who was leaning against his Jeep and talking to a neighborhood kid still in his church clothes. He'd known what it meant when Warrick invited him to meet his grandmother. Greg knew Warrick liked to keep the things important to him private.
Grams nodded and sighed. "You live in California."
Greg pulled his eyes from Warrick to look at Grams. "I'm coming back." He said it with all the conviction he felt.
"Yeah, I think you will. It may take awhile, but you'll make your way back." She hugged Greg. "You've got family in me. If you ever need anything, just call." She pressed a scrap of paper into Greg's hand.
"I will. Thank you."
They had to leave. Warrick needed to get some sleep before his shift.
The next night, Greg had to ask. "Not to sound self centered or anything, but why didn't you take this week off?"
They were in bed and it was a few hours before Warrick had to get ready for yet another shift. Warrick was sitting on the edge of the bed. Greg had come up behind him and draped his arms across Warrick's shoulders. Warrick took one of Greg's hands in his own and ran his thumb over Greg's palm. "I...uh...needed the hours." His and Greg's relationship had been a whirlwind. The weeklong romance in the winter. This quiet week of domesticity in the spring. Their relationship was perfect. Greg was perfect. Warrick recalled a conversation he had with Nick last winter..."when you fall for a tourist, you fall for an illusion." The truth was illusions come when you fell in love quickly. Warrick didn't want to ilude Greg. He took a deep breath and told a truth he was still ashamed to admit. "I kinda blew a chunk of change on a couple of bets and at Blue Diamond last week."
"Blue Diamond?"
"It's a casino."
"How much is a chunk?"
Warrick squeezed the hand in his. "A paycheck give or take."
Greg pulled his hand from Warrick's and moved his arms away from Warrick's body. Warrick was sure that Greg would pull entirely away from him, but Greg surprised him by climbing into his lap. "So instead of spending this entire week with me, you gambled?"
"You know that wasn't the decision at the time."
"I know. I know that." Greg sighed. "I love you, Warrick. And I know that doesn't mean a lot. How I feel isn't important and I have no right to talk about how you spend your money or free time. And you--"
Warrick interrupted. "It actually means a lot."
"What?"
"The fact that you love me. It does mean a lot. Say what you have to say, Greg."
"The gambling thing is kind of disappointing. I think you're so much better than that and I'm sure you were just having fun, but that type of thing snowballs. And a paycheck is so much money and--"
"Breathe Greg." Warrick waited until he took a deep breath. "You're not saying anything I haven't thought before."
"Then why?"
Warrick motioned for Greg to get off his lap so he could lie down. He set up the pillows against the headboard so he was half sitting up. Greg sat facing him, cross-legged. "It's....a distraction." Greg silently encouraged Warrick to continue. "I knew this job would be tough, but...a couple weeks ago we had this case...and it didn't end so well."
"What happened?"
"You don't need to hear about it."
Greg bristled. "I'm not a kid, Warrick."
"Yeah, you kind of are." Warrick used the hand in his to pull Greg towards him until the teen was half-sprawled against him. "A fucking high schooler." Warrick shook his head and kissed Greg. When he pulled away, Greg was regarding him seriously, looking far older than his age.
"Could you promise me something?"
"Maybe."
"The next time...the next time you need a little distraction, you'll call me instead?"
Warrick answered immediately. "Sure."
"Promise?"
He took a little longer to respond. "I promise, Greg."
Warrick felt the body next to him move to get out of bed. He let out a sleepy, "stay."
"I have my interview in an hour."
Warrick grunted. The possibility of Greg attending UNLV wasn't a topic to be discussed around him. "How you getting there?"
"I just thought I'd call a cab."
"Won't get here in time. Take my Jeep. Keys on the kitchen counter."
Greg continued getting ready as Warrick slept on. He grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter. He kissed a sleeping Warrick goodbye and left.
When he returned a few hours later there was a post-it on the front door. "Shooting hoops with Nick. Will be back before work."
By the time Warrick got home, there was only enough time for him to chow down on the Chinese Greg had ordered for them and get ready for work.
It wasn't until the next night, Warrick's night off, that they talked about Greg's interview and UNLV. They were out to dinner at an Indian restaurant, sharing an order of Tikka Masala. "So, how did the interview go?"
Warrick watched Greg grimace quickly before smiling. "I dazzled them with my wit and charm of course."
"I had no doubt that you would impress UNLV. The question is did UNLV impress you?"
"It's a good school. The staff and faculty I met were great. The facilities have a lot to offer."
"You know, you could have a second career as a spin doctor. Answer the question, Greg. Berkeley or UNLV?"
"It's not that simple, Warrick. Vegas has a lot to offer."
"What'd you say when you first came here? Nothing to do for someone under 21. Strip clubs, bars, clubs. And you're not interested in seeing Cher or Celine Dion anytime soon. Vegas or Berkeley....sounds like an easy decision to me."
Greg looked at his plate and pushed some food around with his spoon. "Well it isn't."
"It should be. You don't drop Berkeley to go to UNLV. That's just stupid and you're not stupid." Greg didn't respond and Warrick sighed. "Since you've already wrung one promise out of me, will you promise me something? Promise me, you'll go to Berkeley."
Greg finally looked up. "Let me think about it." He wasn't giving up yet.
When Warrick stepped through his door after a long shift, he almost laughed at the site before him. Both Nick and Greg were both asleep on the sofa. Greg was drooling. Nick was snoring. There were opened bags of Twizzlers and Cheetos around them, three empty pizza boxes and two half-empty two liter bottles of rootbeer on the coffee table. Warrick walked up to turn off the television which was displaying a paused game of Final Fantasy. He'd let Nick crash on the sofa to complain about it tomorrow, but he wanted Greg in bed with him.
Warrick kneeled in front of Greg. "Babe, wake up."
Greg's eyes opened and he reached for Warrick, throwing his arms around Warrick's neck.
When Warrick stood up, Greg practically crawled his way up his body, so Warrick was carrying him. "Jesus, Greg." He had a good 50 pounds on Greg, but that didn't make Greg light.
"Missed you." The words were quietly murmered into Warrick's neck.
Warrick walked them back to the bedroom, and as soon as he took a seat on the bed, Greg was kissing him. He tasted like Cheetos, Rootbeer, sleep and it was good. Because Warrick could imagine a life like this, coming home to Greg, a life with Greg.
Greg pulled away, his lips kiss-bruised, his breathing heavy. He brushed his lips against Warrick's again, moving away just enough to get the words out. "Anything. Anything you want Rick. I'll do anything."
Warrick groaned into Greg's mouth and pulled the body on top of him impossibly closer.
Greg ran his hands up Warrick's sweat-slick back, completely sated. Warrick shifted and stopped thrusting, filling the condom. He didn't bother moving away to save Greg from his full body weight, as if Greg would let him. Instead he collapsed on Greg and brought his lips to the crook of Greg's neck. He placed a few gentle kisses there. "God, I'm going to miss you so much."
"You don't have to." Greg ignored the sudden tension in Warrick's shoulders. "I could move down here and we could--"
"Greg." Warrick pulled back when Greg didn't stop talking. "Greg, stop, baby, stop."
"Rick, I just want to be with you." Greg's eyes were getting wet.
Warrick kissed Greg, as he wiped away tears that silently fell. When he finally pulled back, Greg turned his head to the side so he was't facing Warrick. "Why don't you want me...us?"
Warrick took Greg's chin in his hand and turned Greg so he was facing him. "Believe me, this isn't about not wanting you. You know I do. This isn't about us...because, fuck, Greg I know we'd be good together. I like seeing your toothbrush next to mine and your dirty clothes on my bathroom floor. I like coming home to you, listening to you, kissing you, making love to you.
Greg's eyes were focused on Warrick, looking for lies that weren't there. He brought his palm to the side of Warrick's face and Warrick turned into kissing the palm. "I love you Greg. But you're 18. I'm not letting you turn down an ivy league education so you can shack up with some old gambling addict of a cop."
Greg smiles a bit. "Who the hell are you talking about? I want to shack up with the young, hot, scientist with a dark past."
Warrick rolls his eyes. "You get my point though. If you don't go to Berkeley, you'll regret it, resent me. If you don't have a few solo experiences, you'll always wonder. You can't go straight from living with your parents to living with a lover. You need a little you time. Am I making any sense?"
"No, not really. But the message is clear. You think the college I attend and these lame experiences I'm supposed to have are better than a relationship with you."
"Greg..."
He suddenly sat up, ready to get out of bed. "Whatever, Rick."
Warrick wrapped his arms around Greg, stopping him from moving. "Don't be mad at me. You have no idea..." His voice caught in his throat. "It'd seriously kill me if I thought I took something from you."
Greg shook his head. Warrick didn't understand by doing this he was taking this potential relsationship from Greg.
"Please, promise me, Greg. Promise me you'll go to Berkeley.You'd make me so happy."
Greg turned around to look in those sad green eyes. He knew Warrick would never understand...Greg could talk until he was blue in the face and Warrick would still be talking about Berkeley and sleeping with other guys. He shook his head and gave a small smile. "Sure. I promise. Anything for you, Vegas." Greg brought Warrick's hand to his lips and brushed a kiss to his knuckles. "You know I love you right?"
Warrick squeezes him a little harder. "I love you too, Greg. So much."
Greg stood awkwardly in front of Warrick, his carryon bag next to his feet. Warrick stepped toward him, putting his hand on Greg's hip. Greg's hand flew up to Warrick's chest. "Warrick. After this week..." Greg looked away and blinked away tears he wouldn't let fall. "After this week, it's going to be hard. Too hard." He looked back at Warrick. He could almost see the poker face slide into place...and maybe it was better that way. He tried smiling. "We should be friends. Just friends."
Warrick dropped his hand from Greg's hip and took a step back. "Of course."
"We'll call and email and visit."
"No we won't. You'll be too busy with classes."
Greg stepped closer to Warrick, his voice lowered. "Never too busy for you, Rick." He hugged Warrick. As he pulled away he couldn't stop himself from brushing his lips against the full ones in front of him. He was pulling away before Warrick could react. He picked up his bag, ready to go through security. "Later, Vegas."
"Bye, Greg."
They didn't talk much after that. A part of Greg was hoping that Warrick would realize how much he missed him and pick up the phone. After a few weeks it was clear that Warrick had made his choice and wasn't going back on it. Greg spent the majority of the summer in his bedroom alone, hanging out on the beach alone. It was mid-July when his friend Eric dragged him to a party on the beach. "Dude, I don't know what happened to you, but you've got to get over it. These are the best years of your life." Greg got wasted for the first time that night, drinking jungle juice out of red plastic cups. He talked and laughed with some old friends, met a few new ones, flirted a little too much with every nearby hot guy. The next morning, he and Eric got breakfast at Denny's. They laughed and joked about the night before and Greg realized that maybe he could enjoy life away from Warrick. It woouldn't be as good...but, it'd do.
Meanwhile, Warrick would regret his decision at times. When he told the whole story to Nick, he only got a wide-eyed, slack-jawed stare out of his friend. "What'd you go and do that for?" But he kept reminding himself that it was the best for Greg. Sometime in August, he and Nick went to a bar and Warrick managed to get a little attention from a girl at the other end of the bar. "She's been staring at you all night, bro. You gonna make a move?"
Warrick freezes. "I can't. Greg--"
Nick interrupted. "Greg is a few hundred miles away enjoying his life, just like you wanted him to be. What're gonna do, live like a hermit for the rest of yo--for the next four years."
Warrick looked down at his beer, hearing what Nick didn't say. There was a very good chance that he and Greg wouldn't get back together after Berkeley, that Greg would move on without him. And he knew that when he made the decision. Hell, Greg had said as much at the airport. "We should be friends."
Greg had given him a chance and now Greg wasn't waiting around for him. Warrick thought about Greg starting at Berkeley soon, meeting new people. He walked across the bar.
Every once in awhile, Warrick would get a call during shift. He'd listen to the voicemail during break. There'd be a babbling Greg hyped up on caffiene cramming for a test, going on about stupid teachers, stupid tests, and how he was a "freakin' genius." Greg always chose him for those calls, because he knew Warrick would be the only one to appreciate them. Warrick would return the call later the next day to see how Greg did. He always did well.
And sometimes, in the middle of the night, Greg would wake up to the song "Casanova Brown" playing, and he'd immediately answer his cell phone. They'd talk about something inconsequential, like Warrick's coworker's latest cockroach race or the chick in Greg's English class that he's sure used to be a dude. Sometimes Greg would get that call during a class or lab...he wouldn't hear his phone ring and end up with a voicemail. He hated those voicemails because they represented a moment where he wasn't there for Warrick when he had asked Warrick to depend on him. Warrick must have known this, because those voicemails always ended with him announcing what he was doing for the rest of the night....shooting hoops with Nick, going out with a couple friends, reorganizing his music collection.
And sometimes there'd just be a call out of blue. It was a week after spring break that Greg recieved one of those calls. It'd been over a month since he and Warrick last talked, but they fell into their lazy banter easily.
"What's up, Vegas?" Greg flopped on his bed and grinned at the ceiling. He didn't care if his roommate thought he looked like a loon.
"Nothin' much." Warrick continued after a short pause. "Actually, I have all this vacation time saved up...and thanks to a certain someone...I can actually afford to use it." Warrick couldn't believe it'd been over a year since he gambled last. It was easier to cut it out of his life than he thought. "You doing anything this summer?"
Greg pitched his voice lower. "I've always got time for you." He cleared his throat. "Actually...I'm getting an apartment off-campus and need to move all my stuff. You could use that very nice body of yours to help me out."
"You want me to spend my vacation, lugging around boxes and furniture."
"No. No furniture. Just boxes. And after we're done...we could get a hotel room near the beach, lay out in the sun, go sailing maybe..."
"Now that sounds like a vacation. When do you want me?"
Warrick arrived in Berkeley in the middle of May. Greg met Warrick outside of his dorm. He couldn't stop himself from nearly running toward the man and hugging him upon seeing him.
"What did you do to your hair?" Warrick's hand was running over Greg's blonde, brown, and green spiked hair.
"Yeah, yeah, I know."
"What happened?"
"Well, I dyed it blond about 4 months ago. And then two month's ago was St. Paddy's day, so I thought it would be cool to add green streaks. But I didn't realize the stuff I had bought was permanent, so....yeah. I'm trying to grow it out."
"And the spikes?"
"I think they look cool."
"Hmm." Warrick couldn't believe how good it was to see Greg, bad hair and all. Berkeley had treated Greg well. He'd filled out a little since the last time Warrick saw him, adding muscle to his lean form. His skin tan. Eyes brighter, happier. Hell of a lot happier than when Warrick saw them last. "So, let's get this work out of the way."
It only took two trips to move Greg's things. Once they were done they checked into the hotel room with the intention of relaxing and catching up before going out to find something to eat. Warrick wanted nothing more than to fall into bed with Greg, but he'd made a promise to himself. Just friends. Things were already complicated between them, he didn't need to make it worse. Greg though, apparently didn't get the memo. Within seconds of closing the door, Warrick's back was against it, Greg's lips brushing against his jaw. "Wanted to do this all day. Please, Rick." Warrick had never been very good at saying no to Greg. He moved his face a little so their lips connected.
They spent the night getting physically reacquainted, and Warrick couldn't help but notice that Greg had learned a few things in their time apart. But, hell, so had Warrick. The next morning, he stood on the balcony in a pair of linen pants. He was leaning on the railing, looking down at the beach. It was still early, but a crowd was starting to gather.
Greg came out to join him with a sheet wrapped around his hips and held up by his hand. The spikes in his hair were gone, replaced by messy bedhead. Greg looked at the sight before him. The sun shining down on carmel colored skin. Near-transparent pants riding low on hips. Greg swore sometimes Warrick looked more god-like than human. Little did he know, Warrick had spent the morning thinking about how he'd recieved a gift from God in Greg. No matter the status of their relationship, Warrick would always be grateful for Greg's presence in his life. Greg dropped a kiss on the smooth back before him. "You've spoiled me, you know."
Warrick turned around, "and how's that?"
"All the other guys..." Greg did a meaningless gesture with his free hand, "how's anyone supposed to compare to you?"
Warrick didn't want to think about Greg with other guys, so he kissed him instead.
It took a couple days before they were able to drag themselves away from the hotel. Greg had pulled a few connections and used a bit of the cash he had saved up from his part time job to rent a sail boat.
"Are you sure you know how to work this thing?"
Greg leaned over to kiss Warrick for no reason. "Positive. My dad made it a point to teach me." A half hour later, Greg was finally moving away from what Warrick thought looked like a mass of ropes, flags, and pulleys. Greg sat across from Warrick. "You know, I've never seen you like this."
Warrick's eyeroll was hidden behind his sunglasses and lost on Greg. "There's not a lot of water in the desert."
"No, I mean this. Your mood."
"Oh, that. Well, this is me carefree. Like it?"
Greg moved to sit next to Warrick. "I love it."
Greg was introduced to Alek by a friend. His attraction to Alek wasn't immediate. It was something that took time to develop. And if Greg was honest with himself, which he was, he was most likely more in love with the relationship than with his boyfriend. They ate dinner together almost every night. When Greg was in the library cramming, Alek would bring him take out and make sure he ate. He met Alek's parents after dating for a few weeks. They had weekly brunches with his parents, every Sunday. Greg spent Thanksgiving with his family. Greg knew all of Alek's friends and knew for a fact that Alek would cancel plans with his friends to spend time with Greg. Alek was his and Greg was still with him because of it.
Greg hadn't spoken to Warrick in months when he received a call one evening in January. Greg reached over his boyfriend of four months to pick it up. Greg's flirtatious tone was automatic. "Hey, Vegas. What's up?"
"Greg." Warrick's voice was thick and Greg immediately knew something was wrong. "Grams. She..." Warrick trailed off.
He kept his voice calm and level. "Warrick, babe, what happened?"
"She had a heart attack. She's in a hospital. They don't know... I didn't have anyone to call."
"Yeah. You did. I'll be there as soon as I can, babe. I'm gonna hang up now and see if I can get a flight out tonight, okay?
Warrick wanted to tell Greg he didn't have to, but the truth of the matter was he wanted Greg here. "Yeah, okay."
Greg hung up and was surprised to find himself blinking away tears. He couldn't bear the thought of something happening to Grams. He never mentioned it to Warrick, but he called Grams every other week, right after his calls with Papa Olaf. She sent him a care package every month. She was the only family Warrick had and she had accepted Greg as part of hers without question.
He called a cab for a ride to San Francisco International. The cab would be twenty minutes. He got on his computer and started looking up SFO's phone number, while he dug through his desk drawer for the emergency credit card his parents had given him.
"Who is Warrick?"
Greg spun around. He had forgotten his boyfriend, Alek, was in the room. "He's a friend."
"You called him 'babe.'"
Greg turned around and kept working on what he was doing. He didn't have time to deal with Alek. "So, I did."
"And you called him Vegas."
He found the card and phone number. "He lives in Vegas."
"Is he the guy that wrote you that letter in your wallet." The piece of faded paper in Greg's wallet was more than two years old now. He'd spent his entire summer after senior year re-reading that letter, holding onto the hope that one day, some day he and Warrick would be together again. Things had changed and Greg knew he should have thrown that letter away a long time ago. But everytime he tried, he couldn't. And now, it was just a mainstay in his wallet, like the snapshot of him and Warrick on Grams couch was now a fixture in his underwear drawer.
Greg had started pulling on jeans over his boxers. "What the hell were you doing in my wallet?"
"You asked me to get cash for pizza a few weeks ago, remember?"
Greg turned his back to Alek and continued pulling on his jeans.
"So you're going to see him."
Greg went to his closet to pull out a shirt to put on. "He needs me."
"We just got back to Berkeley, Greg. We haven't even seen each other for the last month with finals and winter break. He can't wait a few fucking days?"
"We'll spend time with each other when I get back." Greg pulled out his backpack, dumped the contents and started shoving random clothes and toiletries into it. He even remembered to grab a few CDs he had burned for Warrick.
"And I'm supposed to just wait here, while you go off to meet your...what did he call himself?" Alek's voice dripped with disgust when he continued. "Your first love."
Greg's eyes snapped up. "I called him that." His eyes went back to his bag and packing. "And I don't give a fuck what you do while I'm gone."
Alek had gotten out of bed and started pulling on his own clothes. "You know, eveyone thinks you're so fucking smart, Greg. They'd all be surprised to find out what an idiot your are. Chasing after some dude that fucked you over two years ago just because he calls and says he needs you. That's fucking bullshit."
"His grandmother, the woman who raised him, may be dying. I think that warrants a visit."
"Bullshit, he's probably lying just to get you to visit him. A long distance booty call, Greg. That's all you are."
Greg was in Alek's personal space within two strides. Alek was shorter and smaller than him, almost petite for a guy, blonde hair, blue eyes, and spoiled like no other. Everything Warrick wasn't. He didn't even have the common sense to move before Greg grabbed his shoulders and shook him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? How fucking old are you? There is so much more going on in the world then your petty college drama bullshit." Greg's phone started ringing, signaling the arrival of his cab. "When I get back, I want all your shit out of this place. We're over."
Greg left and called the airport on his cab ride over. He managed to get a seat on a flight leaving in an hour. When he finally got to Vegas, he called Warrick. Grams was at Desert Palms and still in surgery. Not a good sign. Greg got to the hospital and found the waiting room Warrick was in. Greg sat next to Warrick silently. He tried to take Warrick's hand in his but Warrick was already moving it up to Greg's hair. "Your hair's a mess."
"I know."
Warrick pressed a kiss to Greg's hair, murmering a soft "Thank you."
Grams was out of surgery within the next hour. The doctors said both Greg and Warrick could visit her one at a time for 10 minutes before they had to leave so she could get her rest. Greg went in last. He practiced smiling before entering the room. Looking as depressed as he felt wouldn't help make Grams feel any better.
"Warrick told me you were here, but I didn't believe him."
Greg smiled and hugged the woman. "You said I was family didn't you?"
"I sure did. I'm glad your here, especially for Warrick. You know how sensitive he can be."
Greg gave a small smile, knowing Warrick would cringe at being called sensitive. "Yeah, I know. You know, for someone that just had a heart attack, you're looking pretty good Grams." They both knew she looked less than a hundred percent, but Grams took the compliment in stride.
She shook her head. "It was just that damn Tae Bo. I was kicking and punching...my heart just couldn't take a second more--"
Greg couldn't stop himself from laughing. He managed to get a few words out between laughs. "You did not have a heart attack doing Tae Bo."
Grams gave a soft laugh. "No. I didn't. But I think that's what I'm going to tell the folks at church."
Greg sat down in the chair next to her bed.
"Greg, honey, did you get your hair cut in the dark?"
He ran his hand over the half buzz cutt, half mohawk on top of his head. The cut didn't turn out quite how he wanted it. "Yeah, yeah, your grandson already gave me grief over it."
"Speaking of Warrick, could you take care of him Greg? Make sure he gets home, gets some real sleep, and cheers up before he comes back here. I don't know if I want him back here if he's just gonna mope and look like I just died. Tell him I'm still alive and doing just fine."
"I'll see what I can do, Grams."
Greg left the room and went back to Warrick who was leaning against the hallway wall. "Come on, Vegas. Time to go home."
Warrick automatically shook his head. "I can't just leave her here."
"She demanded you go home, get sleep, and cheer up. Your negativity is bringing her down."
Warrick rolled his eyes but pulled himself away from the wall nonetheless. "Fine."
They entered Warrick's apartment and Greg announced, "one out of three. Sleep and cheering up are left."
"I don't think I can sleep."
Greg turned around to look at Warrick. The man looked dead tired. He wouldn't be surprised if he passed out as soon as he hit the mattress. "I'm sure a guy like you has massage oils somewhere."
Warrick managed to answer around a yawn. "Under the bathroom sink."
"Good. Go to the bedroom and get undressed. I'll be there in a sec." Minutes later, Greg was walking into the bedroom with the oils. He looked at Warrick who was lying on his stomach with his boxers on. "Still awake?"
It took a few seconds for Warrick to answer, but he let out a pillow-smothered "yeah."
Greg straddled his thighs and rubbed oil between his hands before starting on Warrick's shoulders and neck, which he knew would be tense. Within ten minutes he could hear soft snores beneath him. He dropped a kiss behind Warrick's ear and climbed out of bed.
He wasted time washing the few dishes lying in the sink, putting away the CDs scatttered on the coffee table, uploading the music he had brought to Warrick's computer. He eventually wandered to the music room and picked up the acoustic Warrick had out. He started strumming the first song he memorized, a song Warrick had played for him nearly two years ago, during that winter vacation.
"You're playing our song." Warrick walked into the room and sat on the floor, his back resting against an unused amp. "You changed it."
"Made it better." Warrick didn't answer, Greg had improved on the original song. "Why aren't you sleeping?"
"You've been up as long as I have. I'll sleep when you sleep."
Greg put the guitar away and stood up. He reached for Warrick's hand to help him up. "Come on." Greg didn't let go of his hand when he stood up, instead they remained joined at the fingertips as they walked through the apartment to Warrick's bedroom.
When they reached the bedroom, Warrick slowly undressed Greg, removing his t-shirt. Greg reached for his belt, but before he could undo the buckle, strong arms were around his waist. Greg didn't have to think about returning the embrace. His reaction was immediate. Warrick's face was pressed against the juncture of Greg's neck and shoulder. Greg felt a chaste kiss placed there and felt more than heard the words "thank you for coming."
"Of course I came. We're..." Greg didn't know how to continue. He would always be there for Warrick. It wasn't an obligation, a responsibility he had signed on for. It was just what you did when you...cared for someone. Greg pulled back so he could look at Warrick, so he could convey all of that without a word. Warrick gave an imperceptible nod and Greg continued, trying to lighten the mood. "Grams says I'm family."
"Really?"
"So, would that make us brothers?"
Warrick smiled and pretended to think about it. "Nah, that'd make us cousins."
Greg wiggled his eyebrows. "Kissing cousins?"
"I thought you had a boyfriend?"
"I did...we broke up before I left."
"What happened?"
Greg shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing important. Come on, let's go to bed."
Warrick nodded tiredly and got into bed, Greg joining him. Warrick spooned behind Greg and kissed the smooth shoulder in front of him before falling asleep. Greg stayed for another day, making sure Grams and Warrick would be okay. As he flew back home, he thought over the last few days. He couldn't believe that he made it through two days, shared a bed with Warrick, and managed not jump his bones. Maybe he was growing up. Maybe he and Warrick could just be friends. Maybe it didn't have to be complicated.
Greg stayed in Berkeley in the summer for a research position at a lab. Jake was the lead singer of a punk band that played at a little club Greg frequented during those warm months. Jake was sexy, intelligent, and had a dry sense of humor. Jake invited him out to breakfast after one of his shows. Soon enough they were spending all their free time together. They had so much in common, more than he and Warrick ever had. They surfed, partied, talked into the wee hours of the morning. Soon enough they were everyone's favorite couple. Greg was in love. They moved in together in the fall, and Greg could honestly imagine being with Jake for the rest of his life. His relationship with Jake was uncomplicated. That constant ache in his chest, that consistant longing he had with Warrick didn't exist with Jake. He'd wanted Warrick so much, more than Warrick would ever want him and it'd hurt. Jake wanted him. They wanted each other. They loved each other and it was good. Everything Greg had ever wanted.
Warrick was busy working toward his CSI 2 certification. He'd started going to his old community center to help out with mentoring programs. And while doing that he was living the life of a typical bachelor. He hung at the bar with Nick, hit the clubs by himself, and dated a string of women and men. Nick called him Master of the 3 Week Relationship. While most of his relationships were that short, some lasted longer.
In fact, he'd been dating Lisa for 3 months when someone knocked on his door late at night.
"I wasn't sure you'd be home."
"Greg." They hadn't spoken in nearly 9 months. They hadn't seen each other since that January, one and a half years ago.
"Yeah...um...hi, Warrick. Do you...uh...have time to talk?"
It had to be close to two in the morning. "Greg..."
"You promised." Immediately, Warrick knew what Greg was talking about. A conversation, they'd had during that winter break so many years ago.
Would you turn me away?
Never.
"Hold on for a sec. I'll be right back." Warrick walked back to his bedroom and started pulling on clothes over his boxers.
Lisa turned to him from bed. "Where are you going?"
"I got called into work." Warrick couldn't help the lie from slipping out.
"Okay. Be safe." Lisa turned over and went back to sleep.
Greg and Warrick sat in a semi-private booth at the restaurant.
"What’s going on, Greg?"
He looked down at the fork he'd been fiddling with for the last 10 minutes. He shook his head, tried to laugh, and failed. "It's stupid really." He repeated himself. "Really stupid." He knew it wasn’t enough of an explanation. "I guess I just...just needed to see a friendly face."
Warrick reached across the table and lifted Greg's chin so their eyes meet. "You have to look up to see it. Come on man, you gotta tell me what happened."
Greg nodded and looked around. "Can we...uh...go somewhere, more private?"
"Sure, you got a hotel room?"
He shook his head. "I came straight to you. I don't really have any mon--"
"Don't worry about it."
Warrick checked Greg into a hotel, paying for two nights. They went up to his hotel room. When Warrick closed the door behind him, Greg turned around to face his...he gave a sad smile. "Vegas...I don't know how to repay you."
"You know you don't owe me a thing." Warrick toed off his shoes and climbed on the bed, resting his back against the headboard. He motioned for Greg to join him. Greg climbed on the bed next to him, their legs barely touching. "So are you going to tell me what's going on or keep me waiting in suspense?"
"It's stupid. I was stupid."
"Let me be the judge of that."
Greg nodded, but didn't look at Warrick. "You know, before you there was no one...and even these past few years...there hasn't been anyone serious. And then I met Jake and...I can't believe I'm talking about this with you."
Warrick's hand went to Greg's knee and gave a supportive squeeze. "I know you have a life outside of what we had. You don't have to worry about my feelings."
"Jake...I loved him. I do...did...do...I don't know." Greg rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm so confused. I was planning a future with him, you know. We were talking about what we'd do after I graduate and I catch him in bed with a friend. And it's not even a one time thing. I find out it's been going on for months. And then I start thinking about it and wonder how many people knew. Replaying conversations in my head and all his friends had to know. Some of mine probably did. And I've been with him for so long." Greg choked on his words. "I don't even know how to move on and it hurts so much."
Warrick pulled Greg to his chest and ran his fingers through the blue and blond hair. "Shhh."
"I just wanted to see someone that wasn't a jerk and wouldn't lie to me."
"Hey, I've had my jerk moments and I've lied before."
"Have you dated someone for a year and had a three month long affair with their best friend?"
"Can't say that I have. I don't really understand infidelity."
"I don't see how I can ever trust anyone again. God, Warrick, everyone knew and no one told me."
"Did I ever tell you about how I dated my best friend?"
"No."
"Well I did. We met freshman year. I didn't have a lot of friends that made it to college, you know. We had chemistry together and she was the only person that gave me the time of day. I still had the lanky, awkward, nerd thing going on. By the end of freshman year we were inseparable. I bulked up over the summer and at the beginning of sophomore year we started dating. We dated for over three years. Things got harder when I started my job. The hours were tough. I knew we were going to break up, but I thought it'd be…you know, civil, friendly. We'd known each other so long. We just grew apart. Come to find out she'd been having an affair for 6 months. I didn't think I'd ever love someone again."
"Did you?" Greg thought he knew the answer.
"Yeah. I did. It was an accident, but I did. And it felt deeper and stronger than anything I had felt before."
"Really?"
"Yeah, but I guess that's the way love feels every time. That's how it felt with Jake?"
"It felt more...realistic."
"Yeah, I know what that's like too."
"So, who are you with now?" Greg wasn't stupid. There was a reason they weren't at Warrick's place.
"Her name's Lisa."
Greg teased. "Trying chicks again?"
"Hey, don't knock it till you try it."
"Yeah right." Greg's fingers traced random patterns on Warrick's shirt-covered chest. "So does it feel deeper and stronger with her?"
Warrick sighed. "Not yet. It could though. She's a great woman." And Warrick was lying. Because here he was in the middle of the night, lying in bed with an ex of sorts. Even more telling was the fact that he'd lied to her about it. Instead of just telling her that an old friend needed him, he'd lied.
Greg and Warrick were lying down their sides now, facing each other. "You know, Jake and me...it was never as good as...I wanted it to be...I made myself believe it was...but I just couldn't forget..."
Warrick didn't stop him when Greg kissed him. But he was the first to pull away. "Greg. This thing with Lisa...I'm trying to make it work." Another lie. After tonight, Warrick knew he and Lisa wouldn't be together much longer. But Warrick wasn't ready to jump into anything with Greg again, especially since he was going through what sounded like a pretty rough break up.
Greg nodded. "My timing always sucks, doesn't it?"
"Mine isn't so good either."
"Could you, um, stay here, stay the night?"
"Sure, we'll try to get some sleep."
When Warrick woke up the next morning, Greg was gone. In his place was a piece of faded paper that Warrick recognized. On one side was the Bellagio's logo with his scrawled handwriting from years ago. On the other side was fresh ink.
Hey, Vegas.
I had to head back to Berkeley. Finals and all that. Hold on to this for me. I'll be back for it.
Love, Babe.
It was a little over a year before Warrick saw Greg again.
Warrick was walking with Nick toward the DNA lab to meet the new tech. Nick had been talking about it all day, grinning like an idiot. Warrick didn't know why he was so excited. They got new staff all the time. He turned the corner and saw Greg, his Greg, brightly-colored shirt, crazy hair leaning against a table.
"Hey Vegas."
Warrick grabbed Greg's wrist and dragged him out of the lab room, through the halls, into a restroom and into a stall, shutting the door behind him. He pushed Greg against the door and kissed him. Warrick finally pulled away when Greg started laughing. "Missed me?"
"A little bit."
"You have that thing I asked you to hold on to?"
Warrick continued kissing Greg as he dug in his back pocket for his wallet. He opened it up and pulled out the 5 year old piece of paper. Greg reached for it, but Warrick wouldn't let it go. Instead he joined their hands with the piece of paper in between.
Neither seemed to care that they were both on the clock, that people were probably looking for them. They were where they'd always wanted to be.
Together.
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