By: Caroline Crane
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: AU. Greg leaves Las Vegas after the explosion, and Nick learns a lesson about regret.
Author's notes: The first part of this may seem very familiar to you. That's because it is lifted directly (with some minor editorial changes) from the five things fic I wrote about Greg awhile back. This is a continuation of the scenario in which Greg is fired because of the nerve damage he suffers after the explosion.
It probably seems like I just can't let go of the post-"Play With Fire
And since it's me, it's Nick/Greg-centric, of course. Lots of angst, and I'll be posting here as I go, but the final product won't appear on any archive until I'm done with the entire thing. If WIPs aren't your thing, I'll announce when the edited version goes live. There will probably be somewhere in the neighborhood of 20-25 parts, all told, if you like to keep track of that sort of thing. The first two parts are short, but you know how set-up goes. Length will vary according to what's happening in the scene. Title from Indigo Girls' "History of Us". I think that's all I have to say for now. Except this: Funnily enough, writing this fic is making me want to write road trip fic. My brain is a house of horrors, I'm telling you.
He'd been hoping to be done by the time the night shift started, but he'd been in Vegas for a long time and as it turned out he'd managed to collect a lot of stuff in the lab over the years. Part of him was tempted to leave it all behind, to let the next flunkie deal with the mess. He couldn't bring himself to walk away, though, mostly because leaving meant it was finally over.
It was hard to believe any of this stuff had survived the explosion; some of it hadn't, like the CDs that were permanently melted to a drawer inside the wreck of what used to be the DNA lab. Other things had survived; things that really shouldn't have, like his textbooks from Berkeley and a plastic key chain in the shape of a surfboard that one of his friends had sent to remind him of what he was missing in California.
He wouldn't have to miss it for much longer, because soon he'd be staring at the ocean again and the desert would be a distant memory.
The door opened but he didn't look up; he was determined not to let anyone see how much this was getting to him, especially not Grissom. He knew Gris felt bad about having to let him go, but that didn't make it any easier to leave. It didn't make the situation any less unfair, and it didn't make him any less angry that a stupid accident had cost him his dreams.
"Hey. What's up?"
Nick, and from the sounds of it Grissom hadn't bothered to spread the word yet. Not that he had any reason to, Greg reminded himself bitterly. It wasn't like anyone would really notice once he was gone.
"Just cleaning out my desk."
"Wait...what?"
He looked up at Nick, smiling grimly at the other man's confused expression. "I'm outta here. Night shift's gonna have to find another whipping boy, because I'm not the right man for the job."
"Why?"
Greg held up his hand, watching it shake for a few seconds before he lowered it again and gripped the edge of the table in front of him. "Can't do my job if I can't even hold onto a sample, can I?"
"Jesus," Nick murmured, his voice low and shocked and if Greg didn't know better, he might have thought Nick sounded a little sad. "I'm sorry, man, I guess I didn't notice."
"Yeah, that was the idea," Greg answered, turning back to the last few books he hadn't packed up yet.
"But they can't just fire you, can they? I mean can't you go for physical therapy or something?"
"The doctor says it's nerve damage. It might stop someday, but Grissom doesn't want to keep me on the payroll while I wait. They need somebody who can process evidence, and I'm damaged goods now."
"They can't just fire you," Nick said again, more forcefully this time. Greg could hear the rest of his sentence even though Nick didn't say it out loud: They can't just fire you after you got hurt on the job. They can't just throw you away like you don't even matter. Only they could, and that was exactly what they were going to do. He didn't have an answer for Nick; he'd been wondering the same thing since Grissom gave him the news, trying to figure out how they could just cut him loose after Catherine had caused the explosion that left him so damaged. He hadn't been able to come up with an answer he could live with, so he'd stopped thinking about it at all.
"Doesn't matter," he finally said, still carefully not looking at Nick as he loaded the last of his books into the box. "Vegas is getting a little old anyway. Plus, the surfing's lousy."
Something else he'd probably never do again.
"So you're just leaving? Does Grissom know?"
Greg looked up at that, his features twisting into a scowl for a moment before all the fight rushed out of him again. "It doesn't matter, Nick. There's nothing for me here. I came to Vegas because of this job, now that it's over there's no reason to stay."
"Come on, man, of course there is."
He knew Nick was trying to help, that he was doing that Nick thing where he tried to make everything better. Greg wanted to tell him that there was no way it could ever be better, because all he'd ever wanted was to be part of the team and now that was never going to happen. He had a feeling that if anyone would understand that it would be Nick, but there was no way he was going to ask Nick for pity. He didn't even want it, not really. What he wanted was to go back in time and figure out a way to be anywhere but inside that lab when it blew.
"Forget it," he said, sparing Nick a quick glance as he spoke. "It's done, I leave this afternoon."
"So that's it," Nick said, his voice flat and for a second Greg could almost believe he really cared. "You're just leaving, just like that?"
"Just like that," Greg echoed, his voice falsely cheerful as he lifted the box and struggled not to drop it. "Look, man, I appreciate the concern, but I gotta go."
"Wait," Nick called after him as Greg headed for the hallway. He could hear Nick behind him but he didn't slow down; the last thing he wanted to do was drag this out, not even with Nick. The other man seemed determined to have his say, though, and Greg knew there was no way he could outrun him. "Can I...give you a lift or something?"
And God, what he wouldn't have given to hear that pleading tone in Nick's voice just a few weeks ago, back before his entire life turned upside down. But now he knew what it was, and he wasn't about to play victim to Nick's latest crusade to do the right thing. "Thanks, but I've got it covered."
Nick nodded and Greg took that as a sign that he was finally going to let it go. He swallowed a surge of disappointment and shifted the box in his arms, pausing long enough to glance back at Nick. "So I guess I'll see you around."
"Listen, G..." Nick paused and looked down at the ground, letting out a frustrated sigh before he looked up again. "Take care of yourself, okay?"
Greg nodded and shouldered the door open, not glancing back to see if Nick stayed to watch him walk away.
~
The funny thing about time was that there always seemed to be plenty of it, until suddenly there wasn't anymore. As soon as Greg told him he was leaving the regret started to set in, and by the time Nick watched Greg walk out of the lab and his life he knew he'd blown it. He wanted to go after Greg, to tell him all the things he'd always thought there would be time to say, but Greg had made it pretty clear that it was already too late.
He was leaving, going back to California to try to forget all about Vegas and the explosion, and Nick was going to have to live with the fact that he'd missed his chance. And the worst part was that he hadn't really known whether or not he wanted that chance until it was taken away from him. He'd spent a lot of time over the past few years telling himself that getting involved with Greg was a bad idea, because they worked together and because the whole lab would know about it, and mostly because they were totally incompatible. For a long time he'd managed to believe that, but all his carefully crafted excuses seemed stupid when he watched Greg walk out of the lab for the last time.
He spent the first few days telling himself it was just as well, that at least they hadn't started something that would complicate Greg's decision to leave. Only he didn't even know if there had ever been any chance of them starting anything; Greg flirted, sure, but he flirted with everyone, and Nick had never been able to tell if the other man meant anything by it or if he was just being Greg.
His first reaction had been to blame Grissom; it wasn't fair that Greg wasn't given a chance to get better, that he was just tossed out like he didn't mean anything after an accident that wasn't his fault. If anyone should be held accountable it was Catherine, and even though Nick knew it was an accident it hadn't stopped him from saying it to Grissom.
The look on his boss' face had made him even angrier at the time, but after he calmed down he understood what it meant. There was surprise and regret and a sort of dawning realization that at the time Nick had thought was Grissom's way of patronizing him. It took him a day or two to figure out that it wasn't patronization at all; the truth was that Grissom knew, he could tell exactly why Nick was so upset about Greg leaving. It had probably been written all over his face when Nick stormed into his office to confront him, yelling about fairness and recovery time and Catherine's role in ruining Greg's life.
When he was done feeling guilty about blaming Catherine he finally got around to feeling weird about the fact that Grissom knew, but somehow even that wasn't as bad as not having a clue what to do with all his leftover feelings for Greg. So he tried throwing himself into work, and when that didn't distract him enough to forget the look on Greg's face when he said goodbye, he found himself down at the county personnel office, sweet-talking the girl behind the counter into giving him Greg's parents' phone number.
It was a lot easier than he'd expected it to be; he'd half expected to have to go crawling back to Grissom when Personnel turned him away, but all he'd had to do was turn on his most charming smile and hint around that he might be interested in getting more than just a number from her, and she'd practically handed him Greg's file. He felt a little bad about it, but once he had Greg's number in his pocket it was a lot easier to forget about what he'd done to get it.
Since then he'd been carrying the slip of paper around in his pocket, taking it out every once in awhile to look at it. He'd read the numbers so many times now that he could recite them from memory, but he still hadn't dialed them. Part of him wanted to, just to make sure Greg was okay and that he was moving on with his life. Or maybe he was hoping it would give him some closure, that if he knew Greg was okay he could get on with his own life.
Every time he thought about making the call he came up with an excuse not to, and a week later he was still trying to convince himself that Greg wouldn't want to hear from him. It had gotten so bad that he'd found himself pulling the number out of his pocket right in the middle of a shift, and when he felt someone lean over his shoulder he realized that he'd been doing it again.
"What've you got?"
Nick started at the sound of Catherine's voice, crumpling the paper in his hand and shoving it back in his pocket. "Nothing," he answered, although he could tell by her expression that she didn't believe him. "It's personal."
For a second Catherine just looked at him, her lips pressed together as though she was trying to decide whether or not to say whatever was on her mind. "Does it have anything to do with Greg?"
He'd managed to avoid mentioning Greg around Catherine since the other man left; he hadn't talked about Greg with anyone since that day in Grissom's office, as a matter of fact, and for a second he wondered if Grissom had told Catherine what Nick had said. "I told you, it's personal."
"Okay," Catherine said, and when she shrugged he thought she might actually let it go and leave him to work their case in peace. He should have known better, though; he'd known Catherine as long as he'd known Greg, and he knew she never let anything go. "It's just that you've been moping around like you lost your best friend since he left. I didn't realize you guys were so close."
"Yeah, well, there are a lot of things you don't know about me." The anger in his voice surprised even him, and he could tell by her expression that she hadn't been expecting that reaction. He knew it wasn't her fault; it was all just a terrible accident, he'd told himself that at least a thousand times in the past few weeks. It was hard not to blame her, though, especially when she was still here and Greg...wasn't.
"Nick, come on..."
"Forget it," he interrupted. "I need to make a call, I'll be back in a few."
He didn't wait for her to answer before he walked out of the house, past the lines of yellow police tape and into the cool night air. He dug through his pockets until he found his cell phone, dialing the number he'd memorized a week ago. When he heard the first ring he thought about hanging up; he wasn't sure what made him decide to call right then, but it was only 9:00 in California and now that the phone was ringing he couldn't just hang up.
A few more rings and he realized no one was going to pick up, then the line connected and an unfamiliar voice -- Greg's father, he assumed -- told him to leave his name and number. For a second he considered hanging up and trying again later; there was no reason to leave a message for Greg's parents, especially when he wasn't even sure if Greg had gone home to them. Grissom had told him that Greg was back in California, though, and at the very least he was probably in regular contact with his parents.
He took a deep breath and waited for the beep, then he started talking before he could change his mind again. When he hung up again he wasn't even sure exactly what he'd said, but for some reason he felt a little better. He was pretty sure Greg would get his message eventually, and at least this way he'd know that Nick hadn't forgotten about him as soon as he left town.
Another wasted night, and Greg was starting to think moving back to California was a mistake. He didn't regret leaving Vegas; staying there would have been way too painful, especially with the risk of running into people from the lab. He'd thought going back to a place where he knew people would be the best thing, but now that he'd spent a few painful evenings catching up with old friends he was starting to think he'd been wrong.
Maybe he should have gone back to New York or San Francisco, or maybe even somewhere he'd never been before like D.C. It would be easier to start over where people didn't know him, where he didn't have to wonder if everyone he talked to felt sorry for him. He hadn't told anyone except his parents why he left Vegas, but every time he got together with his friends it felt like they knew anyway, like they could take one look at him and the way his hands shook and guess exactly what had happened.
Most of them had heard about the explosion, and they were all smart enough to put two and two together once they saw him try to pick up a glass without spilling beer all over the table. None of them had to say it out loud; they all knew exactly what he wasn't telling them, and it made being around them more uncomfortable than he'd expected. He'd thought nothing could be worse than having Grissom tell him it wasn't working out, then having Nick show up while he was trying to make a graceful exit. It turned out he was wrong, though, and it was getting to the point where he was thinking up excuses to avoid seeing anyone.
He could tell his friends expected him to be his old self, so he tried to keep up the jokes and the witty comebacks whenever anybody asked him why it had taken him so long to come to his senses and get out of the desert. And if they believed that his life there had been one long party it wasn't really hurting anybody. It didn't hurt to let them believe what they wanted, because it saved him from telling them the truth.
The truth was way too hard to think about, and he knew what would happen if he tried to talk about it. He'd never be able to keep the wistfulness out of his voice, or the bitterness when he got to the part where Grissom had replaced him before Greg even got a chance to pack up his things. He couldn't think about the regret in Nick's voice when he said goodbye; it was way too close to what he'd been hoping to hear for years, and if there was a chance that Nick felt something for him...well, that was the kind of thing he was better off not knowing.
He dropped his keys on the counter in his parents' kitchen, sighing at the sight that hadn't changed much since he was a teenager. Same wallpaper, same dark woodwork making the room look a lot smaller than it was, same white phone on the wall next to the microwave. The light on the answering machine was blinking, meaning his parents weren't back from the party they'd gone to. He reached into the fridge for a soda before he pressed the button on the machine, leaning back against the counter as he popped the top on the can and listened to his parents' messages.
The first message was his aunt calling to remind his mother about their lunch date for the next day, and he started to wonder why he'd bothered listening to his parents' messages at all when a familiar voice made him choke on a mouthful of soda. He reached up absently to wipe his mouth as he listened to Nick's voice, his throat tight and his heart pounding too fast at the unexpected sound.
"This is...uh...Nick Stokes. I'm a friend of Greg's...from the Vegas crime lab. I'm trying to get in touch with him, just to see how he's doing. If you could give him my number and ask him to call me I'd appreciate it."
Nick rattled off his phone number, but Greg was too stunned to hear the rest of the message. He'd never expected to hear from any of them, and definitely not from Nick. Sure, he'd heard the regret in Nick's voice when he left, but that had just been Nick's own frustration at not being able to fix the situation. It didn't have anything to do with Greg; it couldn't. It couldn't, and Nick was probably just calling to check up on him because he still hadn't gotten over feeling guilty about not being able to put everything back together again.
There was a time when Greg thought Nick's eagerness to fix everything around him was sort of charming; he knew it didn't go over that well with the other CSIs, and he'd heard some of the lab rats gossiping behind Nick's back about being Grissom's pet. Greg knew Nick wasn't just trying to suck up to Grissom, though, and that was the thing he liked best about Nick. He really did want to help everyone, and he took it personally when he couldn't.
Only Greg had never been on the receiving end of that kind of pity before, and now that he was he didn't want it. He didn't want to be reminded of what he'd given up -- no, what had been taken from him -- and he definitely didn't want Nick to be the one doing the reminding. If Catherine had called, or Jackie, or even Grissom, it wouldn't have been so bad. He could take pity from any of them -- he could even take it from Sarah or Warrick or any of the other lab techs, but he couldn't take hearing Nick's voice on his machine. On his parents' machine, of all things.
He pressed erase as soon as the message ended, before he had time to write down Nick's number. And he didn't regret it, because there was no way he was going to call Nick back to thank him for the pity. He wasn't going to waste his time making Nick feel better, not when the situation had never had anything to do with Nick in the first place.
The back door opened while he was still staring at the machine, and he flinched when he heard his parents' voices as they let themselves into the house. He swallowed against the weird flutter in his stomach and turned to face them, forcing a casual grin when his mother caught sight of him.
"You're home," she said, and when his parents exchanged a quick look it was obvious they'd spent most of their evening talking about how well he wasn't bouncing back from the accident. "I thought maybe you'd stay out with your friends."
"Most of them have to work in the morning," he reminded her, regretting it as soon as the word 'work' escaped his lips. "Aunt Lisa called to remind you about tomorrow."
"Thanks, hon," she said, crossing the room to press a quick kiss to his forehead. There had been a time when he would have pulled away and made a big show of insisting he was too old for that kind of thing just to make her laugh, but now whenever she kissed him it made his throat close up and he couldn't bring himself to put up a fight. "Anyone else call?"
"No." His gaze strayed to the machine automatically, but the light wasn't blinking anymore and he knew Nick's message was gone. It wasn't really a lie; the message hadn't technically been for them, and there was no reason for them to know one of his former coworkers was calling to check up on him. When he didn't call back Nick would take the hint, if he hadn't forgotten about it already.
For a few days after he called Nick felt a little better. He felt like he'd done something, at least, and now all he had to do was wait for Greg to call him back. When that didn't happen right away Nick told himself it didn't mean anything; it was possible that Greg didn't talk to his parents every day, so maybe they hadn't given him the message yet. Or maybe he was busy settling into his new life, looking for an apartment or a job or maybe even rethinking his decision to leave Las Vegas.
And that was probably too much to hope for, but Greg had left Las Vegas without giving himself any time to think about it, and it was possible he'd change his mind and come back. It happened all the time, and maybe after Greg had a little time to think about it he'd realize that leaving didn't solve anything.
After a week passed without a call from Greg Nick started to wonder if he'd ever gotten the message, but he wouldn't let himself call back. He didn't want Greg's parents to think he was being pushy, and there was always the chance that Greg had gotten his message and just hadn't called him back. Then again, it was possible he'd written the number down wrong, or maybe the machine was broken and they'd never heard Nick's message at all.
He'd come up with at least a dozen different scenarios by the end of the first week, and it was getting to the point where he jumped every time he heard a phone ring. For the past few hours he'd been working hard not to think about it; he was working with Grissom for the first time in ages, and the last thing he needed was for his boss to start wondering what was wrong with him. It had been bad enough when Catherine and Warrick were constantly giving him weird looks, but convincing Grissom that nothing was wrong would be almost impossible.
It didn't help that Grissom had already figured out exactly what was bothering Nick; he hadn't said anything about it since that day in his office, but every time Grissom looked at him Nick got the feeling he was thinking about it. And okay, it had probably come as a surprise that Nick had taken Greg's leaving so hard, but it wasn't completely out of left field. They'd always been friends, and in the past year or so Nick had found himself seeking out Greg's company during slow shifts more and more.
Maybe if he'd let Greg know he was interested in more than just conversation the other man would still be in Vegas, but there was no way Nick was going to know unless he talked to Greg. He pulled his cell phone out and checked it for the hundredth time, scowling at the almost fully charged battery before he shoved it back in his pocket.
"Hey Gris," he said as he loaded his kit into the back seat of Grissom's truck, "you haven't heard anything about Greg, have you?"
He climbed into the passenger seat to find Grissom watching him curiously. "Such as?"
"You know, people calling for job references, that kind of thing." As soon as he asked the question he wished he hadn't, but Grissom was the only one who knew how important this was to him, and he was the only one who might have any information about Greg.
"That's confidential information, Nick," Grissom answered, and Nick was glad it was dark in the truck so the other man wouldn't see him blush. He didn't really see what was so unethical about just telling Nick if Greg was looking for a new job, but he knew Grissom and he'd known better than to ask in the first place.
"Can you at least tell me where he went? Did he say anything?"
And he wasn't looking, but he could feel Grissom's curious expression as the other man glanced over at him. He had no idea what Grissom was thinking, and as far as he was concerned he never needed to. All he wanted from his boss was information, but he wasn't sure he was going to get even that much.
"As far as I know he went back to L.A. The forwarding address he left was care of his parents in San Gabriel." Grissom paused long enough to steer the truck into the flow of traffic, glancing over at Nick again once they were headed back toward the lab. "I take it you haven't heard from him?"
Nick swallowed a frustrated sigh and glanced out the window, watching the landscape pass by in a blur without really registering it. "I called and left a message at his parents' place. He hasn't called back."
"He's been through a lot. Just give him some time," Grissom answered, and Nick felt his face flush an even deeper shade of red.
He had no idea why he was telling Grissom any of this; it was a little creepy, talking to his boss about something he wasn't even sure he understood. Grissom was the last person he'd ever go to for relationship advice, even if he had a relationship to seek advice about. This thing with Greg...well, he had no idea what it was, but it definitely wasn't a relationship. Maybe it could have been a few months ago, but now all he was really hoping for was a phone call. He wouldn't let himself think about what happened after that, not when he still didn't even know if Greg wanted to talk to him.
They spent the rest of the blessedly short trip back to the lab in silence, and Nick spent the remainder of their shift avoiding Grissom as much as possible. It had been almost easy to ask those questions in the darkness of Grissom's truck, but now that they were back under the harsh lights of the lab he couldn't even look at the other man without blushing. And it just showed how desperate he really was if he had to stoop to asking Grissom for information, especially when he'd known before he even asked the question that Grissom would never tell him if anyone had called about Greg.
By the time he finally made it home to the silence of his house he knew he had to do something before this got even more out of control than it already was. He just needed to talk to Greg, even if it meant annoying his parents. He checked his messages to make sure Greg hadn't called and then picked up the phone, dialing the number from memory and waiting while the line connected. After two rings someone picked up, and when he heard the familiar voice say 'hello' his heart skipped a beat.
"Greg?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Nick started to wonder if Greg could hear him when the other man finally answered. "Nick. Hey."
"Hey," Nick echoed. It was strange, but just the sound of Greg's voice started a spark of heat in his stomach that spread all the way to his toes. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but there was no one there to see him so he didn't bother trying to stop. "I called about a week ago..."
"Yeah, sorry," Greg interrupted, "things have been a little crazy around here."
"It's cool," Nick answered a little too quickly. He hadn't called to make Greg feel guilty, but there was something about his tone that seemed off, and Nick couldn't put his finger on exactly what it was. "I was just checking in, seeing how you were doing."
"I'm good. Just busy entertaining my many admirers."
Greg laughed, but it sounded a little forced, and Nick couldn't quite convince himself that it was just the connection making Greg's voice sound so flat. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure what or even if Greg wanted to hear it. All he'd wanted for the past three weeks was to hear Greg's voice and know that he was okay, but now that Nick had him on the phone he had no idea what to say.
"So you're planning to stay in California?" Nick asked, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. What he really wanted to do was beg Greg to come back to Vegas, but he knew he couldn't do that without explaining why it was so important to him.
"Looks that way. Speaking of which, I've got a job interview to get to, so..."
"Right, no problem," Nick answered, fighting back the panic that rose in his throat when he realized Greg was going to hang up. They'd barely said anything; Nick had no idea how Greg was doing, if he was happy or even if he'd made any more progress in his recovery. "Listen, G..."
He paused as he searched for something else to say, anything to make this feel less awkward. What he wanted to know was whether or not he could call again, if Greg was planning to cut everything about Vegas out of his life and if Nick was included in that. He wasn't sure how to ask, though, so in the end he just shook his head and hoped Greg would understand what he wasn't saying. "Keep in touch, okay?"
For a second Greg didn't answer, then Nick heard the muffled sound of a throat clearing, as though Greg had pulled the receiver away from his mouth for a moment. "Sure," he answered a moment later, but he didn't sound all that sure. "I'll talk to you later."
The line went dead before Nick could say goodbye; he wasn't sure how long he stood there listening to dead air, but when he finally made himself hang up the phone his limbs felt heavier than they had in a long time. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but he had a feeling Greg hadn't been all that happy to hear from him.
Four days later Greg was still trying to figure out why he felt guilty about lying to Nick. He was starting to think he should get caller ID for his parents' phone just so he wouldn't have to think up another excuse to get rid of Nick the next time he called. And he knew there would be a next time, because Nick wanted to 'keep in touch'. That was something else Greg still hadn't figured out; it wasn't as though they'd ever been all that close. Sure, Nick hung out in his lab when he didn't have anything better to do, and they had a lot of things in common. But they'd never really been what Greg would call friends, at least not in the sense that they ever did anything outside of work.
There was a time when Greg assumed that was because Nick didn't want to, but now he wasn't so sure. It was one thing for Nick to call just to make sure he was okay and settling in, but keeping in touch implied that Nick wanted to hear about what he was doing now that he was back in California. And maybe it was just Nick's way of making sure the explosion hadn't ruined him, but it felt like more than that. Something about the way Nick's voice had sounded...
"Earth to Sanders."
Greg snapped out of his reverie with a start, grinning sheepishly as someone slid into the seat across from him. "Hey," he said, forcing the memory of Nick's voice to the back of his mind. "I was starting to think you weren't going to show."
"Yeah, sorry. A student showed up at the tail end of my office hours looking for the answers to the secrets of the universe. Freshmen."
Greg grinned as the other man shook his head and let out a dramatic sigh. He glanced around the crowded UCLA cafeteria, noticing for the first time since he'd sat down that the room had almost completely filled up. He had no idea how long he'd been lost in memories of Nick's phone call, but he was pretty sure it had been too long.
"Listen, Steve, thanks again. If you hadn't called..."
"Least I could do," the other man answered, waving off Greg's speech before he even got started. "What are friends for? Although I've gotta say I was a little surprised to hear you'd left Vegas. I thought you'd found paradise out in the desert."
He managed not to flinch at the mention of Vegas, but he knew Steve wasn't going to buy the excuse he'd been feeding the rest of his friends. They'd known each other since junior high, and they'd been through enough that Steve could tell when he was lying. Besides, he was starting to feel guilty for all the lies he'd told since he'd been home, and he didn't really want to lie to the guy who'd given him a heads up on the opening in UCLA's Chemistry lab.
"Vegas is great," he finally answered, hoping that part of the truth would be enough to satisfy his friend's curiosity, "but it was time for a change of scenery."
When Steve shook his head Greg knew he wasn't buying it, but he managed to keep his expression neutral as he waited for the inevitable question. "Last time we talked you seemed so jazzed about that whole CSI thing. What happened with that?"
He never thought he'd find himself wishing he hadn't told anybody about his career goals, or the fact that Grissom had started to warm up to the idea of letting him train to be a CSI. He'd only been out in the field twice -- and the first time had been a disaster -- but when Grissom recruited him to go undercover with that coin dealer he'd been excited enough to tell anyone who would listen. "Yeah, well, that sort of got put on hold after the accident."
He forced himself to hold Steve's gaze until the other man nodded, understanding and something a little too close to pity for Greg's comfort dawning in his expression. The he cleared his throat and looked down long enough to pick up his coffee, and Greg swallowed a rush of relief that his friend wasn't going to pry. "Whatever, man, it's just good to have you home. So how'd the interview go?"
"Pretty good, I think," he answered, forcing a casual grin. The truth was it had been the first interview he'd done since he was hired by Clark County, and he'd actually been a little nervous. He could do the job in his sleep, but that hadn't helped him feel any less conspicuous with five people staring at him from across a conference table. The nervousness made his hands shake almost as much as they had in the first few days after the explosion, and he'd spent most of the interview with them clenched in his lap so no one would notice. "I just turned on the patented Sanders charm."
"It's in the bag, then," Steve said, and even though Greg knew his friend was teasing him he couldn't help smiling. It was the first time he'd felt almost good about his decision to move back to L.A., even if working in a research lab wasn't exactly his dream job. It was something he was good at, anyway, and if his tremor ever got any better he might actually be able to keep this job.
His expression clouded at that thought, but he pushed it away as quickly as he could and focused on Steve again. "Thanks again, man. If you hadn't called I wouldn't have heard about it."
Steve shook his head, and when he smiled this time there was no trace of the pity Greg had seen a few minutes ago. "Like I said, that's what friends are for. And now that you're back we can hit the waves again. Just give me a call when you're ready for me to kick your ass."
Greg laughed a little shakily and looked down at his lunch, pretending to be fascinated with his barely touched sandwich so Steve wouldn't see his reaction to the challenge. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to surf again, not if he couldn't get his tremor under control. He wasn't ready to admit that, though, not even to his oldest friend.
"That would be a first," he finally answered, and when Steve laughed he managed a genuine grin.
They spent the rest of their lunch talking about surfing and all the gossip Greg had missed while he was out of town, and by the time Steve had to get back to his office Greg actually felt a little better about the whole situation. It was nice to catch up with his friends after being away for so long, and it was kind of nice to be on familiar ground again. Being around all the things he'd missed while he was in Vegas just made him miss Vegas more, though, and by the time he got home he found himself almost wishing he hadn't left Vegas without saying goodbye to anyone.
His mother was in the kitchen when he let himself into the house, and he just managed not to roll his eyes at her predictability. He was surprised she hadn't offered to drive him to the interview herself, although he had a feeling she'd had to stop herself from doing exactly that. "Hey, Mom."
"Hi, honey," she said, her expression filled with mock surprise that only reinforced his suspicion that she'd been waiting for him. "How'd it go?"
"One smile and they were eating out of my hand," Greg answered, and when she smiled he found himself grinning back in spite of himself. His parents had a right to be worried about him after what happened, and he knew his mother in particular was thrilled that he'd come home after he lost his job. But he'd been hanging around pretending not to mope for almost a month now, and he could tell they were relieved to see him making an attempt to move on with his life.
"They'd be crazy not to snap you up while they've got the chance," she answered, and he knew she meant every word of it. "You're a genius, after all."
She smiled indulgently and he had to bite back a laugh; she'd been telling him that his whole life, but somehow it was still kind of reassuring to hear her say it.
"Thanks, Mom," he said as he backed toward the hall that led to the second floor. "I'm gonna go change."
He was almost out of the kitchen before she said his name, and he stopped short and turned back to look at her. "I almost forgot, someone called for you." She scanned the counter in front of her until she found what she was looking for, then held up a slip of paper and read the message. "Someone named Nick, he said he was a friend of yours. He said he'd call back later."
It was obvious she wanted to ask just what kind of friend Nick was and how Greg knew him, but he wasn't up for that particular conversation. He wasn't even sure how to answer, because the fact was that he had no idea how to define Nick's place in his life. Technically Nick didn't even have a place in his life anymore, but apparently he hadn't gotten the hint yet. Greg forced what he hoped was a casual smile and thanked her for the message, then escaped to his room to try not to think about what exactly Nick wanted from him.
It hardly took them any time at all to rebuild the lab. If Nick didn't know what it looked like right after the explosion he almost wouldn't have believed that it had happened; the reconstruction was flawless, and aside from the new instruments they'd ordered to replace all the damaged stuff there was really no change at all. Which just made Greg's absence all the more conspicuous, at least in Nick's opinion. He almost wished they'd rebuilt the lab with a completely different look, so he wouldn't expect to see Greg every time he happened to glance through the glass.
He still couldn't stand Hodges, but he could barely bring himself to talk to the new girl, so he found himself bringing his evidence to Hodges for processing whenever he could. And he knew it was stupid, but it felt less disloyal to Greg for him to deal with someone he couldn't stand. If he didn't deal with Greg's replacement then he wouldn't have to blame her for taking Greg's place; he knew that was totally unfair, but he couldn't help thinking it every time he saw her.
As soon as he caught sight of the lab that empty feeling started in the pit of his stomach, and he took a deep breath and braced himself before he stepped inside. "Hey," he said, nodding when Hodges glanced over his shoulder, "you got those results yet?"
"I paged Grissom."
"Yeah, well, Grissom's out in the field, and he wants me to pick them up and bring them to him."
For a second Hodges just looked at him, then his mouth quirked into a superior little smirk and he reached for the printout Grissom had asked for. He held it out, but as soon as Nick reached for it he pulled it back out of reach. "Reduced to running errands for the boss? That hurts."
Nick scowled and reached for the report again, but Hodges managed to step backwards out of his reach. "It was just a joke, no need to get so testy." He said, side-stepping the lab station without ever taking his eyes off Nick. "So tell me," he said, smiling enigmatically at Nick's dark expression, "why have you been so...out of sorts lately? It wouldn't have anything to do with the unceremonious departure of a certain lab tech, would it?"
"Just give me the damn report," Nick snapped before he could stop himself. He knew as soon as he said it that it was a mistake, and when Hodges' eyes flashed he swallowed a frustrated groan and reached for the paper again, yanking it out of Hodges' grip. He turned on his heel before Hodges could say anything else, forcing himself not to look back at the other man's smug expression.
Maybe it was time to rethink his strategy of avoiding Greg's replacement, especially if it was making the rest of the night shift suspicious. It was bad enough he hadn't been able to shake his mood for the past few weeks, but if Hodges had noticed...he shook his head and let out a frustrated sigh, digging his keys out of his pocket as he reached the parking lot and headed for his truck.
It shouldn't matter what Hodges or anybody else thought, but that didn't make Nick comfortable with the idea that people were talking about him. He hadn't thought his mood was all that noticeable, but Catherine had called him on it, and he'd caught both Sara and Warrick giving him weird looks a few times over the past couple weeks. At the time he'd told himself it was just his imagination, but now he wasn't so sure.
When he reached the crime scene he parked and took a deep breath, taking a few seconds to pull himself together before he went inside. He knew he needed to get this under control, to put it behind him so he could move on with his life. Calling Greg and hearing that he was okay should have done the trick, but when it didn't Nick had found himself calling again. That was less than twelve hours ago, and when he'd gotten Greg's mother on the phone he'd told himself he was being ridiculous. If Greg wanted to talk he'd call back; he knew how to reach Nick, even if he hadn't written down Nick's home number.
So he hadn't let himself call again before work, and he told himself it was for the best. Only he'd spent the entire shift thinking about Greg, wondering where he'd been when Nick called and trying to tell himself he wasn't jealous of the new people in Greg's life. He didn't want to be jealous; he wanted to be happy for Greg -- he wanted Greg to be happy -- but he wanted to be a part of what made Greg happy.
More than that, he wanted Greg to want Nick back in his life, even if it was just a phone call every once in awhile. If he was honest with himself Nick had to admit that he wanted a lot more than phone calls, but he'd take whatever he could get. Only Greg wasn't even calling, and Nick was starting to get the feeling he wasn't going to. He tried to tell himself that Grissom was right, that he just needed some time and as soon as he got over being fired he'd come around. Nick had heard his voice on the phone, though, and it didn't sound to him like Greg was bouncing back.
He didn't think about it before he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and before he could talk himself out of it he'd already dialed Greg's number. It was way too early to be calling, but the sun was up so hopefully he at least wouldn't wake Greg's parents. He held his breath while the phone rang, and when it connected and he heard Greg's voice on the other end he had to remind himself how to speak.
"Hey. It's Nick." There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and this time Nick didn't try to tell himself it was just a bad connection. He swallowed a sigh and told himself he should have expected it, that Greg probably didn't want to think about anything that reminded him of Vegas, and that included Nick. "Listen, I know it's early..."
"It's seven o'clock in the morning," Greg said, and Nick found himself smiling in spite of the sudden rush of nerves in his stomach.
"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't wake anybody, did I?"
"No, my folks are gone already," Greg answered. "Why are you calling so early?"
"I was just thinking about you," Nick said, and God, could he sound any more pathetic? As soon as the words escaped his lips he blushed hot and dark, and he was thankful that at least Greg couldn't see him. "I mean I was just wondering...you know, how your interview went."
Another pause, but before Nick could panic and hang up Greg started talking again. "It went okay. I haven't heard anything yet."
"Yeah? So where's this great job you left Vegas for?"
"I didn't...UCLA," Greg answered abruptly, and Nick could have kicked himself for being such an idiot. "There's an opening in the research lab."
"Look, G, I didn't mean..."
"Forget it," Greg interrupted, the dismissal managing to make Nick feel even worse somehow. "Things just worked out the way they worked out."
And he knew it was true, but that didn't make it any easier to live with. "What about UNLV? Just because you're not working at the lab anymore doesn't mean you had to leave Vegas."
There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line, and Nick ignored the shudder that ran down his spine as he pictured Greg with the phone pressed to his ear and his eyes closed. "Look, it's done. You can't fix this, Nick. You can't fix everything."
"I…that's not what I meant." He wasn't sure what Greg thought he wanted to fix exactly; there was a part of him that wished he could make this all go away, that they could go back to before the explosion so he could make sure Greg was safe. He knew that wasn't going to happen, though, and Greg had to know he didn't really think it could. "I'm just saying it's not too late to change your mind. People do it all the time."
Another long pause, and when Greg spoke again his voice sounded as flat as it had the last time Nick talked to him. "I have to go."
"Greg, wait," Nick said, but by the time he got the words out the line was already dead. He let out a frustrated sigh and slammed the phone shut, tossing it on the passenger seat and reaching up to run a hand over his face.
He started when someone knocked on the window of the truck, and when he looked up he found Grissom frowning at him. Too late he remembered that he was supposed to be delivering evidence, and he pushed his conversation with Greg to the back of his mind as he reached for the report and climbed out of the truck. "Looks like all the DNA we found was the vic's," Nick said as he handed the results to the other man. "You still need me to take pictures?"
Grissom shook his head and looked down at the DNA results, scanning the page before he looked up at Nick again. "Warrick took care of that," he finally answered, frowning at Nick for another moment before he continued. "You should go home."
"I thought we were putting in overtime on this one," Nick said, frowning as he glanced at his watch. Their shift was almost over, but it was a pretty big case and he'd assumed when Grissom called him back out to the scene that they were working all day.
"Go home, Nick. Get some rest," Grissom answered, and when he turned and headed back to the scene Nick knew he was being dismissed.
"I'm fine," Nick called after him, but Grissom didn't even look back. And this was just perfect; not only had he managed to piss off Greg, but now Grissom didn't even think he could do his job.
Greg wasn't surprised when the phone rang again half an hour later. He knew it was Nick before he even picked up, and for a few seconds he thought about just letting it ring. Ignoring Nick hadn't made him go away yet, though, and he knew if he didn't pick up the phone that Nick would just keep calling until he did. He let out a heavy sigh and picked up the cordless extension just before the machine picked up. "Hello?"
"Hey. Look, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to..."
"Yeah, I know," Greg interrupted. He sank onto the couch in his parents' living room and closed his eyes for a second, picturing Nick in his own living room back in Vegas. The only reason Greg knew what it looked like was because he'd seen the crime scene photos from when Nick's stalker attacked him, and he had no idea if it still looked the same. He'd never even been inside Nick's house, and that was part of the reason he couldn't figure out what Nick wanted from him. "Look, what's this about?"
"What do you mean?" Nick sounded genuinely confused, and for the first time Greg started to wonder if maybe Nick didn't even know why he kept calling. It wouldn't be all that surprising, really; Nick never seemed to think about why it was so important to him to fix whatever was wrong around him, it was just something he did.
"I mean why do you keep calling me?"
There was a long pause on the other end of the line, and he knew Nick was thinking hard about his answer. He'd never really been much for the direct approach; if he was they probably would have had this conversation a long time ago, but he was starting to think it was the only thing that would work with Nick.
"We're friends, right?" Nick finally answered, and Greg wanted to laugh because even Nick didn't really sound sure. The truth was that they weren't really friends, not the kind that stayed in touch long distance, anyway. They were just two guys who used to work together, and if Nick wanted to be friends he was sure as hell getting a late start. "It's not the same around here without you."
That was a little closer to the truth, and Greg's heart skipped a beat in spite of his resolve not to let Nick get to him. He'd wondered for a long time what it would be like to hear that low, intimate tone directed at him; if he was still back in Vegas he'd probably be throwing himself at Nick right now, but he wasn't and it was too late to do anything about it. And it just figured that it would take him leaving Vegas for Nick to figure out what they'd been doing all this time. If he could get his hands on Nick he'd hit him for being such an idiot -- either that or kiss him until neither of them could remember why they'd waited so long.
He couldn't do either, though, and he knew it was his own fault. If he'd hung around Vegas instead of running straight back home...but he couldn't plan his life around Nick's indecision, and it wasn't like Nick had ever said anything. He still hadn't, not really, so Greg had no idea if he was just hearing what he wanted to hear or if Nick really did want him.
"Just tell Grissom when he hires a new tech to look for someone with a sparkling personality and keen fashion sense. I'm irreplaceable, of course, but he can try."
Nick cleared his throat and Greg could almost picture the other man shuffling uncomfortably on the other end of the line. "They...uh...they already hired somebody. I haven't really talked to her."
He told himself he shouldn't be surprised. Almost a month had passed since he left, after all, and they couldn't just wait around on the off chance he made a miraculous recovery. That was the whole reason Grissom had let him go in the first place. "Yeah?" he said, swallowing hard when his voice wavered. "Is she cute?"
"She's not you."
Greg had no idea what that meant; he knew what he wanted it to mean, or at least what he would have wanted it to mean a month ago. But he'd known Nick for long enough to wonder if the other man was just trying to be nice, to spare Greg's feelings by pretending Greg really was irreplaceable. "I am pretty cute," he answered with all the bravado he could muster. "It must suck having to be compared to me."
"Trust me, there's no comparison," Nick said, and this time Greg was almost sure Nick was flirting with him. It wasn't the first time, but it was the first time Greg hadn't been able to write it off as a joke. He'd never been sure whether or not Nick meant it when he flirted -- sometimes he didn't even think Nick knew -- but there was something about his voice this time that told Greg he knew exactly what he was doing. He told himself it was just because he couldn't see Nick's easy grin or that twinkle in his eye that always made Greg wonder if Nick was teasing him. He could picture it, though, and the image sent a shiver up his spine.
"So how are your hands?" Nick asked, and Greg flushed when he realized that he'd just been sitting there listening to Nick breathe.
"Well I've been told they're pretty good, but I don't like to brag."
Nick's laugh made him weak in the knees; it always had, but it was even more intense when it was right in his ear. And it was easy to flirt with him, to fall back on jokes so he wouldn't have to think about what they were doing. Only Nick's voice was making him think about things he'd never thought he could have, and now that he knew he could have had them he found himself wishing he'd never left Vegas in the first place.
"I'm serious. Are you...you know, has it gotten any better?"
"A little." It wasn't a lie; the doctors kept saying it was probably just a stress reaction, and as soon as he learned to relax it would go away completely. Only he hadn't figured out how to relax yet, and the sound of Nick's voice wasn't doing much for his nerves. "I'm thinking I can make it work for me. I could save the lab a lot of money on an oscillator."
"Very funny."
Greg rolled his eyes at the admonishment in Nick's voice, but there was a small part of him that had to admit it was nice that Nick cared. "I'm fine. It'll either go away or it won't. I've seen all the specialists and they all say the same thing."
Nick sighed on the other end of the line, and Greg wasn't sure whether to be flattered that he cared or annoyed that Nick thought he was taking Greg's condition more seriously than Greg was. He was the one who had to live with it; Nick got to keep his job and live his life, and the only thing that had changed for him was that Greg wasn't around to entertain him anymore.
"It'll get better," Nick said, and he sounded so determined that Greg had to fight back a laugh. "And when it does you don't have to stay in a lab. There's the CSI training program..."
"Nick," Greg interrupted, letting out a heavy sigh before he continued. "Just let it go, okay?"
"Yeah. Sorry." Nick paused and just for a second Greg closed his eyes, letting himself picture the man on the other end of the line as he listened to Nick breathe. And this was a bad idea, because there was a part of him that wanted to believe Nick when he said it wasn't too late to change his mind. When Nick spoke again his voice was a little strained, and Greg had to swallow hard against the sudden lump in his throat. "Can't blame a guy for trying, right?"
He wanted to ask what exactly Nick was trying to do, but he wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer. He was pretty sure he already knew what it was, and he was scared of what he'd do if Nick said it out loud. California was his home; it was where he came from, and he liked it here. He'd liked Vegas too, but if he was honest with himself he'd have to admit the thing he missed the most was Nick. There was no way he could go back there just on the off chance that something would happen between them; if it didn't -- or worse, if it did and then didn't work out -- he'd be right where he was after the explosion. Only it would be even worse, because he wouldn't even have the potential.
"It doesn't really matter anymore," he finally answered, but his throat was still tight and it was a battle to push the words out.
"It matters."
Something about the way Nick said it actually made Greg blush, and he was glad suddenly that the other man couldn't see him. Nick wasn't really all that good at spelling out what he wanted, but Greg was pretty good at reading between the lines. And he was pretty sure this was a bad idea; he knew he should end it before it got started, but he knew he wouldn't.
"So are you going to keep calling here or what?"
A soft laugh right up against his ear made his pulse race, and when he closed his eyes he could almost imagine Nick's breath brushing his skin. "Unless you tell me not to."
He knew exactly what he should say. If he told Nick not to call anymore Nick would stop; it was for the best, because nothing could happen between them. Even if it did, Nick still lived in Vegas and Greg's life was here now. It could never work, and if they tried to make it work they'd both end up disappointed. He should say no right now, make it clear to Nick that it was too late for whatever they might have had.
"It's a free country," he heard himself say instead, his heart sinking as soon as the words escaped his lips. Then Nick laughed and Greg had to fight back a groan; he hadn't realized how much he missed that sound until he heard it again, and now that he had he was pretty sure it was going to kill him.
For the first time since Greg left, Nick wasn't dreading the night shift. He still thought of Greg every time he walked past the lab, and he still wasn't that crazy about having to deal with Greg's replacement, but now when he thought about Greg he remembered their last conversation and the begrudging way Greg had said 'it's a free country'. Every time he thought of it he caught himself grinning; it was the first sign he'd gotten that Greg really did want to hear from him, and he wasn't above hoping that meant there would be more.
Maybe Greg would even loosen up on the subject of moving back to Vegas after awhile, but even if he didn't at least he hadn't cut Nick out of his life. That was something, and Nick couldn't help hoping it meant Greg wanted their friendship to become something more. Granted, it was a little more difficult now that they didn't live in the same state, but as far as Nick was concerned it was worth whatever obstacles they had to work around. With any luck Greg's move was only temporary, and as soon as Nick talked him into coming home they could move forward.
He was still grinning when he reached the break room, but when he saw Catherine and Sara sitting at the table he forced his features back to a neutral expression. "Hey," he said as he crossed the room and opened the fridge.
"Hey yourself," Catherine answered, turning in her chair to watch him as he pulled a burrito out of the freezer and put it in the microwave. "You're in a good mood."
Nick shrugged and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and doing his best not to smirk. "Something wrong with that?"
"After the way you've been moping around here lately, yeah," Catherine answered. "Don't tell me Greg's back."
Any urge to smirk disappeared as soon as she said Greg's name, and he bit back a flash of anger and turned away from her. It wasn't so much that he blamed her for being curious, but hearing Catherine say Greg's name just reminded Nick of why Greg wasn't around in the first place. He didn't want to hold her responsible; if he could he'd take all the blame for what happened, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't convince himself that it wasn't her fault.
Maybe if he'd done something differently he could have protected Greg -- maybe if he'd just told Greg how he felt he wouldn't have been in the lab that day. Just one tiny difference and everything could have turned out okay, but there was also the chance that one tiny difference and Greg would have ended up dead. He shuddered at the thought and pulled the microwave open, not bothering to check his dinner to make sure it was heated. He wasn't hungry anymore; in fact, the thought of eating made his stomach turn.
"No," he finally answered, forcing himself to turn and face the two women watching him, "Greg's not back."
"But you've talked to him."
"Wait," Sara interrupted, her gaze shifting from Nick to Catherine and back again, "you and Greg? I thought that was a joke."
"He's a friend." He'd told himself that so many times over the past few years that it was almost automatic, but he'd never believed it and now he wasn't sure why he'd been trying so hard to convince himself it was true. He wanted a lot more from Greg than just friendship, and now that Greg was gone it didn't really matter who knew.
"How's he doing?" Catherine asked, and Nick had to bite back the urge to tell her it was none of her business. She didn't look particularly surprised to hear that Nick had talked to Greg, and he wondered all over again if Grissom had told her anything. Then again, the whole night shift seemed to be talking about him and Greg, so chances were that Grissom hadn't needed to say anything.
"He's okay," Nick said. "He applied for an opening at UCLA."
"So he's not coming back."
"Doesn't look that way," Nick answered, working hard to keep the anger out of his voice. It wasn't her fault; she hadn't asked Greg to pack up and leave without so much as a goodbye, and he knew if it was up to her Greg would still be in Las Vegas. Catherine nodded and just for a second Nick could see the regret in her eyes; it made him feel a little better, and he took a deep breath and forced himself to relax.
"Well tell him I said hi," she said as she stood up, pushing her chair in and nodding at Sara. "You ready to go see Doc?"
When Nick glanced at Sara she was still staring open-mouthed at him, but as soon as he caught her eye she snapped her jaw shut and stood up. "Yeah," she said, taking a few steps toward the door before she glanced at Nick again. It was hard not to laugh at her confused expression, but before he lost his resolve Catherine grabbed her by the arm and pushed her out of the break room.
He waited until he was alone to think about what he'd just done; it wasn't really that big a deal, especially not considering Grissom already knew. Besides, at least half the night shift probably believed it already, so confirming the rumor about him and Greg wasn't going to hurt him. Unless Sara or Warrick had a problem with it the truth really wouldn't make any difference at all, and if they did...
They were his friends and he knew he should care what they thought, and maybe a few months ago he would have. Maybe that was part of the reason he'd never done anything about his attraction to Greg when he had the chance, but now that he had another chance he couldn't make himself care what anybody else thought about it. He hadn't felt like this about anyone in...well, ever, and he didn't want to lose it just because some of his friends might not like it.
Besides, there wasn't anything to tell -- not yet, anyway -- and he didn't want to screw this thing up by getting ahead of himself. He couldn't stop people from talking, but he didn't have to give them any fuel for the fire. Whatever happened between him and Greg was between them, and he'd deal with telling his family and friends when he figured out a way to get Greg back in his life full time.
Greg wasn't surprised when they called to offer him the UCLA job. He could do the job in his sleep, and they were probably just grateful they wouldn't have to train him to use the equipment. What did surprise him was the twinge of regret he felt when they made the offer, and the brief, irrational urge to turn it down. He took the job anyway, but after three days as UCLA's newest lab tech he still wasn't sure he'd made the right choice.
It wasn't that he didn't like the job; it wasn't all that exciting, but it was easy enough and at least he was working days. Working on a college campus was a lot more relaxed than working in the crime lab, and he didn't miss having five different people throwing samples at him at once. He didn't miss getting chewed out by the CSIs when their stuff didn't automatically get shifted to the top of the pile, and he definitely didn't miss their habit of taking out the hard cases on the lab staff.
Sometimes he missed the pace a little, though, and when he found himself sitting in L.A. traffic he sort of missed the night shift. And there was probably something wrong with that, but he tried not to think too hard about it. At least his tremor hadn't been a problem so far, and he had a feeling it had a lot to do with the slow, steady pace of working in a university lab. So this job was really the best thing for him, but no matter how many times he told himself that he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd made the wrong decision.
It was all Nick's fault. He kept calling, asking about Greg's life and talking about Vegas, reminding Greg of all the things he was missing. Greg knew he was doing it on purpose, and it was as annoying as it was flattering. He didn't want to be flattered by the attention -- he didn't want to hang on Nick's every word and look forward to the next time he called. There was no future in whatever they were doing, because he wasn't moving back to Vegas and eventually Nick would figure that out and give up.
This would all be a lot easier if he didn't like Nick so much. That was the problem, because Greg had been waiting years for Nick to finally look around long enough to realize they were perfect for each other, and now that Nick finally had they couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't even sure he wanted to now, because for all he knew Nick was only interested because he thought Greg needed him. The last thing he wanted to be was one of Nick's charity cases, like that dead hooker whose funeral Nick had actually paid for.
He wondered if Nick would have done the same for him if he'd died in the explosion, if he would have felt so guilty that he hadn't been able to save Greg that he would have tried to make up for it after Greg was dead. Then again, they'd never slept together, so maybe that was where Nick drew the line.
One thing he knew for sure -- his new job definitely gave him too much time to think, especially when he found himself planning his own funeral and wondering who would show up. He wondered if Nick would make the trip all the way to California for the service, if he could really make himself feel that guilty over something that had nothing to do with him. Or maybe Nick didn't feel guilty at all; maybe he really was just so blind that it had taken Greg leaving for Nick to realize he kind of liked having Greg around, and this was his twisted way of making up for lost time.
They'd talked a few more times since Greg asked Nick if he was planning to keep calling, mostly about Greg's plans and what was going on back at the lab. It was weird to hear about life in Vegas going on without him, but he'd known it was going to and it got a little easier to hear about it every time. So in a way he was sort of grateful that Nick had been so insistent about keeping in touch -- he just wished the sound of Nick's voice didn't make him think about things that were never going to happen.
It was bad enough living under his parents' roof again; his sex life hadn't exactly been on his mind when he moved back in, but now that Nick was calling every few days just to check in Greg found his thoughts straying more and more. He'd even caught himself thinking about it at work a few times, and the worst part was that there really wasn't anything he could do about it. It wasn't like he had any prospects, and he definitely wasn't going to ask his friends to set him up.
To make matters worse, Nick had one of those voices that sounded even better over the phone than it did in person. Way too many times Greg had caught himself closing his eyes while they were on the phone, pretending Nick was right next to him and whispering in his ear. It was bad enough when they were just talking about work; if they ever graduated to anything more than thinly veiled flirting Greg would have to move out and make his parents swear they wouldn't give Nick his new number.
Not that moving out was such a bad idea; he loved his parents, but he had a job now and it would be a lot easier to commute to work if he wasn't driving in from the suburbs. He let out a heavy sigh as he let himself into the house, dropping his keys on the counter and thumbing through the mail on his way through the kitchen. The door that led to the living room swung open as he dropped the mail back on the counter, and he glanced up just in time to watch his mother walk in.
"Oh, you're home," she said as he pulled the refrigerator open and reached for a soda. "You just missed your friend Nick."
He stopped just short of rolling his eyes; they'd been doing this for about a week now, and he could tell she was just dying to ask who Nick was. She was probably telling herself he was an adult and she shouldn't pry, but it was obvious that it was killing her. He knew he should just tell her and get it over with, but every time he tried to come up with the right words he found himself at a total loss.
"He...uh...he didn't leave his number, did he?"
For a second she just frowned at him, and he could tell what she was thinking before she said anything. Nick had called at least six times since he'd been home, and even though she didn't know about every call she knew Greg had talked to him. She'd handed him the phone herself when Nick called to ask him about his new job, so he knew she was wondering why Greg didn't have his number.
"No, honey, I'm sorry."
"It's complicated," he said in answer to the question she hadn't asked. "He's just somebody I worked with in Vegas."
For a second she looked a little surprised, but as soon as the emotion surfaced she forced it back down. Her smile was a little forced, but he told himself it didn't mean anything. "I'm glad you're staying in touch with your friends. Should I ask him for his number when he calls back?"
When, not if, and Greg knew it shouldn't surprise him that she could see right through him. "That's all right, I can find it." He pushed the kitchen door open and then paused, glancing back over his shoulder at his mother. "Listen, Mom, he's just a friend."
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," she answered, smiling a little more genuinely this time. He could tell she didn't believe him, but he didn't bother trying to argue with her. The truth was that he really didn't know what Nick was to him, exactly, and he knew he'd never be able to explain that to his mother.
He grabbed the cordless phone from the living room and ran up the stairs, dialing the number for the crime lab from memory. When the line connected and a feminine voice said 'Clark County Crime Lab' Greg frowned; he'd been gone less than two months, and already they'd replaced him and gotten a new receptionist.
"Hi," he said, swallowing a sudden, unexplainable rush of nerves. "Is Nick Stokes in?"
"He's off tonight," the girl on the other end of the line said, "can I take a message?"
"You wouldn't happen to have his cell phone number handy, would you?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I'm not allowed to give that out." He'd known she was going to say that; he knew lab policy probably better than she did, and he knew handing out cell phone numbers to just anybody was strictly against the rules. If Nick was working Greg would just page him -- that number he knew by heart -- but he'd never called Nick's cell phone before.
He knew he should just hang up and let Nick call him back. It would be better if he did, because then Nick wouldn't start thinking that Greg looked forward to talking to him. Only he couldn't be sure that Nick would call back tonight, and there was a pathetic, masochistic part of him that wanted to hear Nick's voice. He could ask to talk to Grissom and see if he had Nick's number, but then he'd have to explain why he wanted it, and he had no idea how Nick would feel about that.
"Listen," he tried again, "we probably never got a chance to meet. You're new, right?"
"Actually, I'm just temping," the girl answered, but her voice was still a little frosty and Greg knew she wasn't falling for it. She hadn't hung up yet, though, and that meant he still had a shot.
"Maybe you've heard of me, I used to work the night shift. My name's Greg Sanders."
There was a brief pause, then she cleared her throat and he heard the sound of something rustling on the other end of the line. "Can you hold for a minute?"
"Sure," he answered, frowning when he heard the line click and someone's idea of music begin to play. Too late he realized that she might have called Grissom to ask if she was allowed to give him Nick's number, and he thought about hanging up. But if she had called Grissom it was already too late to stop her, and that would still leave him without Nick's phone number. He was almost ready to hang up anyway when she finally came back on the line, and if Greg didn't know better he would have sworn she sounded amused.
"Would you like his home number as well?"
"Okay," Greg said, reaching for a pen as she read him Nick's cell number. He had a sinking feeling she had gone to Grissom; giving out home numbers was strictly against the rules, and there was no way a temp was going to break that rule without going straight to the boss. He wrote down the second number and thanked her, and when she giggled he knew he was missing something, only he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what it was.
Nick made himself wait until the second ring before he picked up the phone. He knew who it was before he answered, but that didn't stop his heart from beating just a little faster when he finally reached for the receiver. "Stokes."
"That's how you answer your phone?"
He grinned at the sound of Greg's voice; it had only been a couple days since the last time they spoke, but the more he talked to Greg the harder it was to stop himself from calling every day. And he knew this thing between them was going to cost him a fortune in long distance charges, but he couldn't even make himself care.
"What's wrong with the way I answer the phone?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and picturing Greg on the other end of the line.
"Nothing, if you want to be Grissom when you grow up. I bet that's how he answers his phone at home too."
Nick rolled his eyes at the insult, but he didn't bother trying to suppress his grin. It was the first time Greg had ever called him; he knew that meant something, so he didn't care how much Greg made fun of him. "What do you say we don't talk about Grissom?"
He expected Greg to make a joke about why Nick didn't want to talk about Grissom, but instead of a sarcastic remark there was a long pause before Greg cleared his throat. "Fine by me," Greg said, his voice hesitant as though he was trying to decide whether or not he should say whatever was on his mind. "Only you should probably know that I didn't have your phone number."
As soon as he said it Nick realized what he was getting at, but listening to Greg stammer his way through an explanation was kind of cute. "What are you talking about?"
"I never wrote down your number that first time you called," Greg admitted, and Nick could just picture his sheepish expression. "So I called the lab and I got some temp. I think she asked Grissom if it was okay to give me your number."
"She didn't ask Grissom."
"She must have, she...wait. How would you know?"
"Because she called me about two minutes before you did and asked if she should give you my number."
More silence on the other end of the line, and Nick was starting to think maybe he'd said too much. He could have let Greg believe the new receptionist had gone to Grissom; it wouldn't have made a real difference, especially considering Grissom already knew there was something going on between them. Greg didn't really need to know that the entire night shift was talking about them. "Look, G..."
"Is that why she laughed at me?"
"She laughed?" That could only mean one thing -- by the time Nick showed up for work tomorrow the entire lab would be talking about the fact that Greg had called looking for him. He wasn't sure when his life turned into a soap opera, but he was starting to wish his coworkers would find something else to talk about.
"She seemed like she knew who I was."
And okay, now he just sounded suspicious. Nick knew Greg wasn't stupid, and he knew the other man wouldn't fall for whatever lame excuse Nick came up with. He couldn't tell Greg the entire night shift thought they were involved, though, not if he actually wanted it to be true at some point. "She might have heard me mention you."
"So you talk about me?"
Nick grinned at that, because at least Greg hadn't hung up on him. In fact, he sounded almost flattered by the idea that Nick talked about him with people he didn't know. He couldn't remember if he'd ever actually mentioned Greg in front of the new girl, but whether she'd heard about Greg from him or from somebody else on the night shift didn't really matter. "Your name might have come up once or twice."
"Oh." And he wished he could see Greg's expression, because it was hard to tell over the phone if the smile in the other man's voice was happiness or embarrassment.
So far all they'd really talked about was work and Greg's plans for the immediate future; they hadn't broached the topic of what exactly they were doing, and lately Nick had been wondering if that was something they could even talk about over the phone. It was way too hard to tell what Greg was thinking when all Nick had to go by was his voice. "Listen, G, I've been thinking. I'd like to see you."
"What, you want me to send you some pictures?" Greg laughed, but it sounded a little shaky and Nick could tell Greg knew what he meant. "Usually I charge for that."
"Yeah? How much are we talking?" He stood up as he spoke, one hand holding the cordless phone against his ear as he made his way over to his computer. Once he'd pulled up his web browser he balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder long enough to type in the URL for a travel agent.
"Depends what you're looking for," Greg answered, and Nick could almost picture the other man relaxing as Nick let him change the subject. "I might be able to get you the professional discount."
Nick laughed, his cheeks flushing when Greg's voice dropped an octave. "I have a feeling you're worth full price."
He waited until the page loaded, then he typed in 'Los Angeles' and 'Las Vegas' and glanced at the calendar on his desk before he put in dates. When he was finished he clicked the 'send' button and waited while the computer looked for the information he'd requested.
"Oh, I am," Greg answered, his voice low and more flirtatious than Nick had heard since before the explosion. "Charm, good looks, brains...I'm the total package."
"Modest, too," Nick said, grinning at the dismissive noise on the other end of the line. "I'm serious, you know. You could come back just to visit. Flights aren't bad right now, and there are a lot of people who were disappointed that you didn't give anybody a chance to say goodbye."
He knew it was a low blow; he knew exactly why Greg left the way he did, but that didn't make it hurt any less. The only reason Nick had gotten a chance to say goodbye was because he'd been in the right place at the right time, and if he'd had a few days' notice...well, things might have been a lot different. But no matter how Greg had left, Nick wanted to see him again, to look at him and touch him and know one way or the other if there was anything between them.
"I just started a new job, I can't start asking for time off to go on vacation."
And he'd expected that kind of response, but it was worth a try. "It was just an idea. Hey, before I forget, you left some CDs and stuff in the lab. Give me your address and I'll get them back to you."
"I got all my stuff out of the lab," Greg answered, some of his earlier suspicion creeping back into his voice. "Must be somebody else's."
"I don't know anybody else on the night shift who listens to Marilyn Manson," Nick said, glancing at the small stack of CDs that had been sitting on his desk for the past few days. "They must be yours."
He could picture Greg frowning on the other end of the line, and for once he was almost sorry the other man was so smart. And it really was a shame he'd left Vegas, because he probably would have been a hell of an investigator. Nick held his breath while he waited for an answer, half expecting Greg to start asking questions he didn't have the answers for.
"Guess I missed some stuff," Greg finally said, and Nick swallowed a relieved sigh and reached for a pen to write down the address Greg recited. He read it back just to make sure he'd gotten it right, then he set the pen down and stood up again.
"So I'll get that stuff back to you as soon as I can. And about that visit...just think about it, okay?"
"Look, Nick..."
"Just think about it," Nick said again, cutting off whatever excuse Greg had been about to make. "I'll talk to you soon." He waited for Greg to say goodbye before he hung up, then he set the phone back in its cradle and headed back to his computer.
The last thing Nick had said to him was 'I'll talk to you soon'; he remembered because at the time he wondered exactly how soon Nick meant, exactly how much time he had to come up with a believable reason why he couldn't go back to Vegas just to visit. Obviously 'soon' didn't mean the same thing to Nick that it did to Greg, though, because it had been almost a week since they last spoke, and he was starting to think maybe Nick had decided this thing between them wasn't worth it after all.
Maybe he'd come to his senses and realized there wasn't anything between them, that Nick was just holding on to what could barely even be described as a friendship out of some weird sense of loyalty. Or maybe he'd just gotten busy with a really tough case and just when Greg finally gave up on him Nick would call again, all apologies and easy charm, and Greg would fall for it all over again. Of course he could call Nick himself and find out what was going on. He could just call and tell Nick that he'd been thinking about it and it was better that they didn't talk anymore, that it would be easier for both of them if they just forgot about each other.
He'd picked up the phone at least a dozen times in the past few days to do exactly that, but every time he did he found another reason to put it off. Leaving a message on Nick's machine would be the easiest way to handle it, but he knew Nick would just call him back and argue about it until he couldn't remember his very good reasons for ending things before they really got started. And he knew Nick wanted to start something -- any doubt he had left was erased when Nick said 'I'd like to see you'. Then there was the fact that Nick had been talking about him at work; granted, it was probably along the lines of '...when Greg worked here', but something about the way Nick had avoided the subject made Greg wonder.
Those kinds of thoughts just made it harder for him to put an end to whatever they were doing, though, so he shook his head and glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The problem with the steady pace of a university lab was that sometimes things got a little too quiet, and the past few hours felt as though they'd already lasted for days. Finally he decided it was close enough to quitting time to call it a day, and he shrugged out of his lab coat and hung it on the rack near the door. He fished his keys out of a drawer and waved to the other tech on duty, then he pushed the lab door open and headed for the stairs.
He let himself out of the building and took the stairs two at a time, but when he heard someone calling his name he stopped short and turned back. A grin lit up his features as he watched Steve jog up the sidewalk toward him, his chest rising and falling heavily when he finally caught up with Greg. "You've been spending too much time in your office, man," Greg said, laughing at the look Steve shot him. "You know, they've got a gym right on campus."
"Thanks for the tip," Steve shot back when he caught his breath, falling into step next to Greg. "Listen, I was hoping to catch you before you left. I've got a last-minute date..."
"Let me guess, you need some fashion tips," Greg said. "You're not wearing that shirt, are you?"
"Hilarious, as usual," Steve answered, rolling his eyes when Greg grinned. "No, see, the thing is, I've been after this girl to go out with me forever, but she's got a friend and she wants me to bring somebody along. I think she's nervous about the whole one-on-one thing."
"So she's been talking to your ex-girlfriends?"
"Come on, man, I'm serious. You'd be doing me a huge favor," Steve pleaded, and Greg swallowed a sigh as he stopped in the center of the sidewalk to look at the other man. "You're the only guy I know who's not attached. It's just one night, and you might even like her."
Greg's hand tightened around his keys when they began to shake a little, and he prayed Steve wouldn't hear the tell-tale rattle of metal against metal. He'd known where this conversation was going as soon as Steve mentioned his date, but the last thing he wanted to do was suffer through a painful blind date with some girl he'd never see again. "I can't. I'm...sort of seeing somebody."
He didn't know what made him say it; it wasn't a complete lie, but it was close enough to one to make him feel guilty. The truth was that he didn't owe Nick anything -- he could go out with whoever he wanted, and for all he knew Nick was doing the same. Only he had a feeling Nick wasn't seeing anyone, and that thought was enough to make his hands shake even harder.
For a second Steve just looked at him, and Greg knew his friend was trying to decide whether or not he was lying. "Since when?"
"It's complicated," Greg answered, and that, at least, wasn't a lie.
"Anybody I know?"
Greg shook his head and started walking again, his hands clenched so tight he knew he'd have impressions in his palm from his keys. "He's somebody I knew in Vegas."
"You never told me you were seeing a guy in Vegas," Steve said, and now he just sounded betrayed. Greg had to stop himself from rolling his eyes; he felt bad enough about the sort-of lie, but now he was going to spend the rest of the day feeling guilty for not just giving in and doing a favor for a friend.
"Like I said, it's complicated." He stopped when they reached the lot where he parked, turning to face the other man. "Look, I'd help you out if I could."
"Yeah, sure, no problem," Steve answered, and Greg swallowed against an even sharper stab of guilt when his friend just let him off the hook without question. "Long distance, though...you must really like this one."
Greg shrugged and glanced longingly at his car, wishing he'd left work ten minutes earlier. It wouldn't have made a difference to anybody in the lab, and at least it would have spared him from this conversation. Part of him almost wished he could bring himself to forget Nick long enough to go out with Steve and have a good time; if nothing else it would be a distraction, and if he wasn't hanging around at home he wouldn't be tempted to call Nick. But every time he imagined telling Nick he'd been out on a date he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, and he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it.
"I better go if I want to get ahead of the traffic," he finally said, turning back to Steve long enough to flash what he hoped was a convincing grin. "We should have lunch if you can tear yourself away from the coeds. You can tell me all about your date."
Steve laughed and took a few steps backwards, calling out a threat about filling him in on all the details before he turned and headed in the other direction. Once he was gone Greg let out a deep breath and headed for his car, his hands still shaking slightly as he fumbled with the lock. When he finally got the door open he slid into the driver's seat and slid the keys into the ignition, gripping the steering wheel hard until his hands were steady enough to drive.
By the time he actually made it home the tremor had subsided almost completely, but when he walked into the house his fingers started trembling all over again. His mother was standing at the stove, so engrossed in the story she was telling that she didn't even look up when he walked in. The person she was talking to was sitting at the kitchen table, sprawled so casually in one of his parents' kitchen chairs that he looked like he belonged there. As soon as he saw Greg he unfolded himself from the chair and stood up, and when his mother realized she'd lost her audience she finally stopped talking and looked over at Greg.
"Oh, there you are. I was starting to think you weren't coming home after all. I tried to call when Nick got here, but they said you'd already left."
Greg opened his mouth to say something like 'what the hell are you doing here' or maybe to ask his mother what she thought she was doing letting strangers in, but the words got stuck behind the lump in his throat. He didn't notice how hard his hands were shaking until the keys slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud, and when he realized they were both still staring at him he almost wished it had been him hitting the floor instead of the keys.
Nick was halfway across the kitchen before he realized what he was doing, but as soon as he did he stopped himself. It was harder than he expected to keep himself from reaching down to pick up the keys Greg had dropped; it seemed like such a natural thing to do, but something about the look on Greg's face made him stop short. Instead he watched helplessly as Mrs. Sanders put a hand on Greg's shoulder, gently but insistently urging him toward the door.
"You boys go in the living room and catch up," she said, glancing at Nick long enough to smile reassuringly before she turned back to Greg.
He paused long enough to pick up the small stack of CDs he'd left on the kitchen table, then he followed Greg into the living room. When the door swung shut behind them Nick heard the clink of metal as Greg's mother picked up his keys, and he saw the flinch Greg tried to hide. His hands were curled into tight fists at his side, and all Nick wanted to do was reach out and ease his fingers out of their death grip. But Greg still hadn't said a word -- he hadn't even looked at Nick since they left the kitchen -- and Nick had a feeling touching him right now would be disastrous.
It wasn't the first time he'd wondered if this was a bad idea. The look Grissom had given him when he'd asked for time off on short notice was enough to make him doubt his decision, but that wasn't half as awkward as fielding questions from everyone on the night shift about where he was going. Mostly he'd just smiled and changed the subject; he didn't want to lie outright, but it wasn't anybody's business where he was going. Not that any of them needed him to tell them anything -- they'd all guessed exactly where he was going as soon as word got around that he'd put in for leave.
Not even a week of innuendos and weird looks from his coworkers had been as nerve-wracking as the past few minutes, though, and if Greg didn't say something soon Nick was going to do something drastic. He followed Greg up a flight of stairs and down a hall, stopping when they reached what he assumed was Greg's room. There were boxes stacked along one wall, and a single bed under the only window in the room. At first glance it looked like Greg's parents hadn't changed a thing since Greg first moved out, but Nick was too busy watching Greg to worry much about the décor.
"What are you doing here?"
"I told you, you left these behind," Nick answered, but the excuse sounded stupid even to him now that he was actually standing in front of the other man. He held up the stack of CDs, but when Greg didn't move or even relax his death grip on his fingers Nick swallowed a sigh and set the CDs down on the corner of the dresser. "And I knew you weren't going to come back to Vegas."
"So you just show up without even calling? How'd you get my mom to let you in?"
He shrugged at that, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I told her who I was and she let me in. She seemed happy to see me."
"Yeah, well, she's never had very discriminating taste."
Nick grinned even more brightly at the insult, because at least if Greg was making jokes it meant he wasn't that upset that Nick had showed up unannounced. And okay, maybe it was a shock to find Nick in his kitchen when he got home from work, but once he got over that Nick knew he'd want to talk. At least he hoped Greg wanted to talk; there was always the chance that Nick had been reading his signals totally wrong, but if he was then Greg had been sending out some pretty weird signals for a long time now.
"She's crazy about you, she's been talking about you non-stop since I got here."
For a second Greg looked down, and if Nick didn't know better he might have thought the other man was blushing. He hadn't realized when he got on the plane that afternoon how hard it was going to be to keep his hands to himself once he was in the same room with Greg again, especially when he found himself in Greg's bedroom. Only they weren't really alone, because Greg's mom was right downstairs, and suddenly Nick felt like a teenager worried about getting busted by his parents.
He wasn't sure what to make of the fact that Greg was still staying with his folks; part of him wanted to believe that it meant Greg wasn't putting down roots, that maybe there was a chance he wasn't in California to stay. But Greg had a job now, and Nick didn't want to get his hopes up about something that might not happen. So far he hadn't even been able to talk Greg into coming back to Vegas for a visit, and whenever he brought up the subject Greg either changed it or got defensive.
"So you came all the way out here to bring me some CDs," Greg said, taking a few steps toward the dresser. When he was close enough to touch Nick caught his breath and held it, fighting the urge to reach out as he watched Greg tilt his head to read the titles of the CDs. "Where'd you find these?"
"Melted inside a drawer," Nick admitted, smiling self-consciously when Greg glanced up at him. "I figured the lab replaced everything else, these should be replaced too."
"You got Grissom to approve that?" For a second Greg forgot about his tremor and reached out to pick up one of the CDs, but as soon as he caught sight of his shaking fingers he pulled his hand back again. Nick's heart sank when he realized Greg was embarrassed, but he knew anything he said would just make it worse.
"Not exactly." Nick's shoulders fell as he let out a defeated sigh, his smile turning sheepish. "Maybe it was a dumb excuse, but I wanted to see you. I miss you."
It was the first time he'd actually said the words, and when Greg looked up sharply he wished he could take them back. Neither of them had ever said anything about what they were doing; the whole point of this trip was to figure that out, but suddenly he wasn't so sure Greg was ready for that. He'd been through a lot of changes in the past few months, changes that would be hard enough for most people to deal with. For someone like Greg it had to be even harder to adjust to limitations he'd never dealt with before, and Nick was only starting to realize what those limitations were.
"Look, G..."
"So how long are you staying?" Greg interrupted, and Nick found himself almost grateful. He'd had no idea what he was going to say, and he'd already put his foot in his mouth more than once since Greg got home.
"My flight's on Sunday morning. I tried to get Sunday night off too but Gris didn't go for it. Listen, if this is bad timing..."
"No," Greg said a little too quickly, and this time Nick was sure he was blushing. It was the first sign he'd gotten that this wasn't a huge mistake, and before he even realized what he was doing he was moving forward. When Greg didn't move away Nick took a chance and reached up, resting one hand on Greg's shoulder right at the juncture of his neck. They'd been this close a hundred times before in the lab, and Nick had never really thought that much about it. He'd never let himself think about it, anyway, and now that it was all he could think about he could have kicked himself for wasting so much time.
He knew he should say something else; he'd worked out a whole speech on the plane, but now that Greg was standing right in front of him he couldn't remember any of the words that had seemed so important a few hours ago. All he could think about was the muscles twitching under his fingers and the warmth radiating off Greg through his clothes. He wanted to feel more of that, to slide his hands under Greg's shirt and touch his skin. He wanted Greg to touch him too, but his hands were still clenched at his sides and Nick knew it was because he was trying not to tremble.
He wasn't sure which of them moved first, but suddenly Greg was even closer and when Nick breathed in he caught the familiar scent of cologne mingled with chemicals. It was comforting, in a strange way, and distracting enough that he didn't hear Greg's mother calling for them until after Greg tensed and pulled back. He wanted to ignore the interruption, to reach out and haul Greg forward by the front of his shirt just so he could breathe in that scent again, but before he got the chance Greg pulled out of his grip and took a few steps toward the door.
"Are you staying for dinner?"
"Your mom asked me to." Less than a second ago he could have sworn Greg wanted Nick to kiss him, but just like that all the awkwardness was back and suddenly Nick felt guilty for accepting the dinner invitation without waiting to find out if it was okay with Greg. "But if that's not cool I can head back to the hotel and give you a call in the morning."
Greg was shaking his head before Nick even finished. The force of Nick's relief took him by surprise, and he didn't bother fighting the grin that lit up his features. "She'll never let you out of here without feeding you first."
When Greg smiled Nick's stomach did a little flip, and he was glad he hadn't eaten anything yet. He hadn't planned for dinner with Greg's parents on his first visit, but as long as Greg wasn't kicking him out he wasn't going to complain.
"Your folks are great," Nick said as he climbed into the passenger seat of Greg's car.
Greg wasn't surprised at how well Nick got along with his parents; he was the kind of guy who could put anyone at ease, and his parents had always liked all Greg's friends. So it didn't really bother him that Nick had spent the past two hours charming both his parents, it was just kind of...weird. The fact that Nick was actually in his parents' house was weird, and the fact that he looked so comfortable there was even weirder.
Nick had managed to steer the conversation away from what he did for a living as much as possible, and Greg knew that was for his benefit. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed that Nick didn't think he could handle hearing about the crime lab, but he had to admit that it was sort of nice that Nick thought of it. It made for an enlightening dinner, anyway, and Greg had learned all sorts of things about Nick's family and life in Texas that he'd never heard before.
He knew he was supposed to say something about how much his parents had liked Nick, maybe make a joke about how they seemed to like him more than they liked Greg. There were things he was supposed to say, things he'd said before to other people he'd brought home to meet his parents. Only he hadn't brought Nick home, not really, and he was still trying to figure out what exactly Nick expected from him.
"Well, they are my parents," he said, forcing a smile as he started the car and pointed it toward the hotel where Nick was staying. And he could have killed his mother when she'd asked Nick to stay with them, but Nick had even had an answer for that, almost as though he'd thought about it before he showed up on Greg's doorstep. Maybe he had; he was trained to view situations from every possible angle, after all, and Greg was pretty sure the last thing Nick wanted to do was spend the night in the guest room right next to Nick's parents.
Checking into his hotel before he caught a cab to Greg's house was smart. Even smarter was the cab itself, because it meant he either had to call a cab to pick him up, or Greg had to give him a lift back to the hotel. There was no way his mother was going to let Nick take a cab after he'd just spent the entire evening charming her, and he had a feeling Nick had been betting on that.
Greg wasn't stupid. He knew where this was headed, and there was a part of him that really wanted to stop thinking and just go with it. But there was another part of him that knew Nick was going to want to talk eventually, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that. While they were just flirting over the phone every few days there was no reason to put a label on anything, but as soon as they made it real there was no turning back. He couldn't tell himself they were just friends anymore, and he couldn't tell himself that it was just a little harmless flirting.
It was bad enough when he found himself thinking about Nick's voice in the middle of the day, wondering when the other man would call again and thinking about all the things he could say to keep Nick on the phone. If they did this everything would change...everything except the fact that Nick was still going to get on a plane on Sunday and go back to Vegas and a life that didn't include Greg.
He'd talked himself into and back out of just telling Nick it wasn't going to work at least a dozen times by the time he finally pulled up in front of Nick's hotel, and when he pulled into a parking space and shut off the engine he turned to find the other man watching him. The drive hadn't been very long, but it was long enough that the silence between them felt heavy, and Greg knew Nick was waiting for him to say something. He was supposed to give some kind of signal, to let Nick know one way or the other if this was what he wanted.
The almost kiss in his bedroom should have been enough to let Nick know how he felt, and in a way Greg kind of wished they hadn't been interrupted, because then at least their first kiss would already be over. It would have been awkward and kind of weird considering they'd been standing in his parents' house at the time, but at least it would have been done and he would have spent the past couple hours thinking about the kiss instead of what had almost happened.
"Look," he said at the same moment that Nick said, "Greg," and when Nick laughed nervously Greg's stomach fluttered. For some reason it made him feel a little better to know Nick was nervous about this too, that he wasn't sure what was going to happen. If he'd gotten out of the car and started toward his room like he was expecting Greg to follow him and just start taking his clothes off it would have been a lot worse, and Greg flushed when he realized that was sort of what he'd been expecting. He knew Nick, though, knew what kind of guy he was, even if they'd never actually been in this situation before.
"Why'd it take you so long?" He didn't even know he'd been thinking the question until he heard himself say it, but once it was out there he didn't want to take it back.
Nick shrugged and granted him one of those sheepish smiles, the kind he usually reserved for getting himself out of trouble. "I guess I just figured there was plenty of time."
He thought about pointing out the three weeks after the explosion, those three weeks when Nick could have said something that might have made it easier for Greg to stay in Vegas even after he was fired. But Nick hadn't known Greg was going to get fired, and he hadn't known he was going to pack up and leave town as soon as he did. Maybe if Greg had said something...but it didn't matter now, because it was done and he couldn't undo it.
"I used to think you were totally clueless. It was kind of cute, the way you'd get so intense about your cases and make everything so personal, but you never really noticed what was going on around you. Like the way Sara panted after you when she first moved to Vegas. Maybe you were just too caught up in following Warrick around back then to notice."
"I noticed," Nick said. When Greg glanced over at him his palms were flat against his thighs, pressing hard as though he was trying not to touch anything he wasn't supposed to. The knowledge that Nick was trying not to touch him made his cock stir, and he had to struggle to focus on what Nick was saying. "I just wasn't interested. And I wasn't following Warrick around."
Greg laughed in spite of himself, some of the tension lifting as he caught Nick's embarrassed frown. "Right, so I imagined the way you used to try to one-up him all the time just to get his attention."
"I wasn't...we're always up for the same promotions," Nick said, letting out an exasperated sigh when Greg laughed again. "If I was trying to get anyone's attention it was Grissom's, and trust me, it didn't have anything to do with me wanting to sleep with him."
He laughed even harder at that, and when Nick grinned at him his heart skipped a beat. And maybe Nick wasn't going to own up to his crush on Warrick, but it didn't really matter now anyway. That was a long time ago, and now...now Nick wanted him, even if he'd figured it out too late. Greg's smile faded and he looked down at his hands where they still rested on the steering wheel, sending up a quick prayer of thanks that they were steady for the moment. "And now?"
"I still don't want to sleep with Grissom." Nick finally gave in to the urge to touch, one hand leaving his thigh to slide behind Greg's neck. It was warm and strong and familiar in a way that made Greg's chest ache, and he found himself leaning automatically into the fingers that stroked his skin just above his collar. "This isn't about Warrick or Grissom or Sara."
"That just leaves Catherine," he said, but when Nick winced he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "Sorry."
Nick shook his head and pulled his hand away from Greg's neck, leaving his skin suddenly feeling cold. For a second panic gripped him as he pictured Nick telling him to forget it and getting out of the car, but instead the other man sighed and shifted in the passenger seat until he was facing Greg. "Listen, do you want to come in for awhile?"
This was the moment he'd been waiting for all night, the moment when he was supposed to say no and tell Nick it was too late. He wasn't supposed to nod and pull his keys out of the ignition, and he wasn't supposed to get out of the car and follow Nick into the hotel. He wasn't supposed to get on the elevator and watch as Nick pushed the button for his floor, his fingers starting to tremble a little when Nick glanced at him and smiled in that way that always, always made Greg's knees weak. By the time the elevator finally reached Nick's floor he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk down the hall to Nick's room, but a few seconds later he found himself being ushered into a nondescript hotel room, then Nick's hands were on his shoulders and he forgot all about what he wasn't supposed to be doing.
He was taking this slow. He was taking it slow because it was too important not to, but he was pretty sure the pace was going to kill him. Since the moment he watched Greg walk into the kitchen all he could think about was touching him, just to feel warm skin and a pulse and know that Greg was real and alive and standing in front of him.
He'd thought seeing Greg would be enough, but as soon as they were in the same room again he knew he'd been wrong. So far all he'd gotten was a stolen moment in Greg's bedroom and then a fleeting touch in his car, but once they were in Nick's room with no chance of an interruption he couldn't help himself. His hands found Greg's shoulders the second the door closed behind them, the warmth of Greg's body through his shirt so overwhelming that Nick had to close his eyes for a second just to catch his breath. His hands traced the curve of Greg's shoulders, down his arms and then back up again, and when Greg leaned back into him Nick couldn't help himself -- he had to lean down and press his mouth to Greg's neck.
This was the part he couldn't plan for; he could predict Greg's reaction to his unannounced visit, and he could predict more or less what Greg's parents would be like. He even predicted the few moments of hesitation before Greg followed him up to his hotel room, but this...this part he didn't really let himself think about, because until it happened he wasn't positive it would. It wasn't a question of whether or not Greg wanted him -- he was pretty sure about that much, at least, but he'd listened to Greg hesitate or change the subject every time Nick mentioned coming back to Vegas, and he didn't know if that meant Greg was writing off just the city, or everyone he'd left behind.
But now Greg was leaning back into his touch, his neck elongated and his breath coming faster as Nick kissed a path from just below his ear to the base of his jaw. And he was still taking this slow, but it had been nearly two months since they last saw each other and suddenly it didn't feel like he was rushing anything. He'd never been much of a talker, but he could hear himself murmuring words against Greg's skin and he knew he couldn't stop them even if he wanted to. Then Greg turned in his arms and slid a hand behind his neck, pulling him forward and pressing their lips together and...God, he'd waited too long for this moment.
It was like catching fire from the inside, the words he still hadn't said pressing hard on his chest and Greg warm and alive in his grip. He kept on murmuring against Greg's lips until a tongue slid into his mouth, effectively shutting him up. His hands slid down Greg's back and under his shirt, pushing up against hot, smooth skin that he'd pictured a thousand times. He felt a shudder roll through the body pressed against him as his fingers sought out Greg's scars, brushing gently across too-smooth skin he hadn't seen yet.
"Does it hurt?" he asked when he pulled back to look at Greg, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of wet, kiss-swollen lips and half-closed eyes.
Greg shook his head, his mouth twisting into something that might have been irritation for a second before he took a step backwards and pulled his shirt over his head. And Nick wanted to see, wanted to run his hands over the scars just like he wanted to touch every part of Greg, but not if it meant making Greg self-conscious. Because he was curious, but more than that, he was relieved -- that Greg was okay, and that they still had a chance even if he wasn't in Las Vegas anymore.
When Greg started to turn Nick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, gripping just hard enough to get his attention. He wanted to say that it didn't matter, but the words sounded all wrong in his head and he knew if he said them he'd just make it worse. Instead he pulled Greg forward again, his free hand in Greg's hair to fit their mouths together. He slid his other hand down the center of Greg's chest to rest against his stomach, cataloging each breath and every little shiver that shook the skin under his fingers.
They were still standing just inside the door; the bed seemed like it was miles away, and part of Nick wanted to drop to his knees right here and suck Greg until he screamed Nick's name. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought, his hand dipping lower on Greg's stomach to trace the waistband of his jeans. He wanted everything at once, wanted to kiss Greg until he was breathless and suck him dry, wanted to fuck him hard and fast to make up for months of waiting, or fuck him slow to make it last as long as he could. He wanted to feel Greg's legs wrapped around his waist, and he wanted Greg on his knees, where he could see the scars and know that this wasn't all some crazy, vivid dream.
But more than anything he wanted whatever Greg wanted to give him, and when Greg moaned against his mouth and pulled him closer Nick found himself thinking thank God over and over again. He kicked his shoes off as he steered them toward the bed, mouth moving against Greg's and his hands on Greg's hips to keep him from falling as they stumbled across the carpet. When Greg's legs hit the edge of the mattress they stopped, and he let go long enough to tug his own shirt up and off. It hit the floor somewhere behind him as he swayed forward again, passing by Greg's mouth to press hot kisses to his neck.
He got a low, throaty groan for his efforts, and when Greg's hands slid down his back Nick's cock twitched painfully inside his jeans. He worked Greg's pants open with expert fingers, sliding a hand inside Greg's boxers to ease his cock out. The groan that got him made him instantly harder, and when he registered the sight of Greg's cock in his hand all he could think about was how long he'd been waiting for this moment. Way too long, and he wanted to suck Greg more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life.
Until he heard a low, breathless chuckle he didn't realize he'd said it out loud, but when he glanced up Greg was grinning at him. "You've been watching too much porn."
He bit back the urge to remind the other man that he wouldn't have to watch porn if Greg hadn't left town without so much as a warning. Instead he stroked Greg's cock a few times, watching as Greg's eyelids fluttered and his teeth sank into his bottom lip. "Is that a yes?"
"Whatever...Jesus...whatever you want," Greg answered, his fingers gripping Nick's shoulders hard.
"Anything?"
"Anything. Nick, please..." He pressed hard against Nick's shoulders with his hands, and Nick had to swallow hard against the rush of emotion that came along with Greg's words. Greg probably wasn't even listening to what he was saying, but the blind trust in his words hit Nick hard and he leaned forward for another kiss, letting go of Greg's erection long enough to push his jeans and boxers down his thighs. He eased the other man back onto the mattress, then dropped to his knees and pulled Greg's shoes and socks and then the rest of his clothes off.
Once he was actually on his knees in front of Greg he slowed down again, running his hands slowly up Greg's calves, then past his knees and along his thighs. He followed the path of his fingers with his mouth, pressing soft kisses along the insides of Greg's thighs. The other man's legs parted automatically, his hands braced against the mattress to hold him up. Nick glanced up to find Greg watching him; his eyes were half-closed and his cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted, and Nick wished he had a camera so he could capture this sight and keep it forever. For a few seconds he just looked, burning the image into his memory for the countless nights when Greg wouldn't be there with him.
His chest tightened at that thought and he tore his gaze away, closing his fist around Greg's cock for the second time and focusing on the way Greg's hips moved in time with his hand. A few more strokes and he leaned forward, letting out a hot breath against the head before he closed his mouth around Greg and slid as far down his length as he could. His own cock ached with the need to be touched, and he reached down with his free hand and unbuttoned his jeans, fumbling with the zipper for a second before he finally got it down.
He moaned around Greg's cock at the sudden release of pressure, pressing his palm against his own length to ease the ache between his legs. And he knew he was never going to last long enough to do everything he hadn't let himself think about over the past few days, but it didn't really matter now that they were together. Even bad sex with Greg was better than no Greg at all, and he could have kicked himself for all the time he'd wasted -- time he could have spent learning the weight of Greg's cock, heavy against his lip as he slid his mouth almost all the way off to tease Greg's head with his tongue.
He could have learned months ago how Greg would feel moving underneath him, could have taken him against the wall just inside his front door because they were too far gone to make it to the bed. He could have kissed Greg a thousand different ways by now, storing each one in his memory so he'd know just what to do to make the next one even better. He would know what Greg's skin felt like before the explosion, whether he'd had a freckle where now there was a scar, or if his back had been flawless before his whole world came crumbling down.
Nick moaned helplessly at the thought, the sound vibrating around Greg's cock and making the other man thrust up into his mouth. His own hips moved in a steady rhythm as he let Greg fuck his mouth, reaching up to grip his hips and guide him faster and faster until finally Greg tensed and came, heat and salt against his tongue. He waited until Greg stopped shuddering before he pulled off and kicked the rest of his clothes off, pressing warm, soothing kisses up Greg's stomach and then his chest, finally stopping when he reached Greg's neck.
The chest underneath him rose and fell heavily, Greg's breath harsh in his ear as he panted for air. Nick's hands traced random patterns over every inch of skin he could reach, his hips moving rhythmically against Greg as he mouthed a path from Greg's neck to his collarbone. And he knew he could come just like this, that he would come if he didn't find some way to distract himself, but it felt way too good to be pressed skin to skin with Greg after all this time apart.
A hand slid between them and Nick shifted automatically, groaning against Greg's shoulder as he thrust into the other man's grip. He realized he was murmuring again when Greg's other hand slid into his hair, forcing his head up to meet the other man's gaze. He had no idea what he'd been saying, but when he looked in Greg's eyes and saw the fresh lust there he knew it had something to do with all the things he wanted to do to Greg.
"So fuck me," Greg practically growled, and God, he wanted to, but Greg's hand was still moving on his cock, firm, almost rough strokes making Nick moan and thrust even harder against the other man. There were condoms...somewhere, but a second later Greg twisted his wrist and it didn't matter anymore. Nick's eyes widened in surprise and he came helplessly in Greg's hand, his muscles corded with tension as his orgasm shook through him.
Way too soon he collapsed on Greg's chest, his face pressed into the warmth of Greg's neck. "Sorry," he murmured against skin slick with sweat, although he wasn't sure if he was apologizing for coming too soon or for wanting more than he should. He pressed another kiss to Greg's skin as a hand trailed through his hair, breathing in the mingled scents of sweat and Greg and sex.
When he thought he could look at the other man without doing something stupid like blushing or crying or opening his mouth to say all those things he might have already said he pushed himself up on one elbow, reaching for the corner of the sheet and wiping off first his stomach and then Greg's hand. He grinned sheepishly when Greg laughed at him, wondering for a second if he should be insulted until he looked up and saw Greg's expression. He was pretty sure he'd never actually been in love before -- he'd never felt anything like this, anyway, and suddenly a weekend together didn't seem like nearly enough time to figure things out.
"Greg..." he began, but that was as far as he got before Greg's hands were on his chest, pushing him back onto the mattress to straddle his thighs.
"Just...shut up," Greg said, his mouth twisted into something less than anger and more than determination. "Okay?"
His only answer was a sharp nod, because he couldn't remember what he'd been about to say when Greg was sitting on top of his thighs, hands still pressed against Nick's chest. Then he leaned down and caught Nick's mouth against his own, tongue pressing past Nick's teeth to taste himself on Nick's tongue, and Nick decided there would be plenty of time for talking later.
So far Greg had done a pretty good job of avoiding actual conversation, but he knew sooner or later Nick was going to start talking again. He talked a lot more during sex than Greg expected, mostly about how much he wanted Greg and how much he'd missed him. A few months ago Greg would have given anything to hear more of that, but now...now all they had was a day, then Nick would be gone and Greg would be left thinking about all those things he'd tried so hard not to hear.
The real problem was that he wanted Nick to miss him -- he liked that Nick thought about him when he wasn't around. He liked that Nick wanted him so much that he'd gotten on a plane without bothering to tell Greg, and he really liked the way Nick touched him. He liked the feeling of that mouth on his skin, those hands mapping every inch of him like Nick was trying to memorize him. And that was all part of the problem, because this was supposed to help him get Nick out of his system, not let him burrow so far under Greg's skin that he'd never be able to forget.
He wasn't sure how long they'd been asleep -- a few minutes, or maybe a few hours -- when Nick's hand slid down his hip, thumb moving in slow circles on Greg's skin as that mouth found his neck again. He'd kissed Nick into silence once already, and he'd kept kissing Nick until they finally drifted off into an exhausted, dreamless sleep, but he wasn't sure how many times he could get away with it before Nick called him on it. He was an investigator, after all, and he knew a lot more than Greg did about getting information out of suspects.
"You asleep?" Nick murmured against his ear, his breath hot and tickling Greg's skin.
"Yeah," Greg answered, smiling in spite of the butterflies in his stomach when Nick laughed and inched a little closer. He could feel Nick's cock pressed against his back, half-hard already, and he pressed back into the sensation. Maybe part of it was just another attempt at distraction, but Nick had made a promise earlier about fucking him and Greg was still waiting for him to follow through.
As though Nick could read his mind his hand left Greg's hip to dip between them, pressing his top leg gently toward his chest. He 'hmmed' low in his throat as his hand slid back down Greg's leg, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of Greg's inner thigh just enough to send a shudder through him. And he never would have figured Nick for a tease, but when a finger pressed between Greg's cheeks only to disappear again almost right away he couldn't stop the disappointed groan. A second later he felt the mattress shift, and he looked over his shoulder just in time to watch Nick stand up.
For a second he was mesmerized by the sight of Nick's strong, solid back and a perfect ass that led muscular thighs, but when Nick reached for his bag and started digging around Greg frowned and rolled onto his back. "What, am I boring you already?"
Nick didn't answer right away; he could be frustratingly single-minded when he wanted to be, but it was a lot more annoying when Greg was naked and hard than it was when they were in the lab. When he finally found what he was looking for he straightened up and turned back to the bed, smiling that dazzling smile that made it impossible for Greg to stay mad at him. "Trust me, G, the last thing you are is boring."
He dropped whatever he'd been looking for on the mattress -- condoms and lube, Greg surmised with a quick glance -- before he slid back down next to the other man and pressed their lips together. Greg sighed into the kiss, parting his lips and pressing up against Nick until they were side by side again. He slid one leg over the other man's hip, groaning against Nick's mouth when their cocks brushed together. And it was amazing just to be with Nick this way, but he knew it could be a lot better.
He pulled away with a gasp and turned onto his other side, reaching for the small tube Nick had brought with him and pressing it into the other man's hand. Nick laughed softly against his neck and took the lube, his lips brushing across Greg's shoulder as he opened it and squeezed a little onto his fingers. Greg drew his top leg up toward his chest again as Nick's hand slid between them, moaning and pushing back when the first blunt finger slid inside him.
It had been a long time since he did this, so the stretch felt wider than it should have, but he pressed back into it anyway and ignored the slight twinge of discomfort. A few seconds later Nick's finger sank even deeper and the discomfort melted into a mixture of pleasure and anticipation, and he closed his eyes and pressed back against the warm body behind him.
A low murmur of approval escaped Nick's throat as he slid a second finger in to join the first, his mouth working its way from Greg's shoulder all the way to the sensitive skin just behind his ear. "You never said anything," Nick murmured against his skin, his voice so soft that for a second Greg thought he'd imagined it.
When he said it again Greg realized that not only had he really heard it, but Nick was expecting an answer. The last thing he wanted to do right now was talk; what he wanted to do was spend the next twenty-four hours thinking as little as possible, but he had a feeling Nick wasn't going to let him get away with that.
"I wasn't sure." His voice was embarrassingly breathy, but if Nick noticed he didn't seem to care. Besides, Greg's whole body was already flushed, so it didn't make much of a difference when the sound of his own voice made him blush.
"You weren't sure of what?"
"Wasn't sure...you wanted me," Greg answered, his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to concentrate long enough to remember how to work his voice. "God, Nick..."
He squeezed his muscles around the fingers buried inside him, and when Nick groaned and pulled out of him he reached for one of the condoms Nick had dropped next to him. His fingers trembled too much to open the package, so he handed it back to Nick. Strong fingers pulled the condom out of his hand, but when Nick's hand caught his and warm lips brushed across his fingers Greg forgot how to breathe.
He was supposed to be self-conscious about his tremor; it bothered him whenever his friends stared, and it bothered him more when they asked him about it like it made him different somehow. So he didn't want to like it when Nick deliberately kissed his knuckles, then squeezed his fingers before letting go and tearing the foil open. It was just another one of those things he didn't want to get used to, because in a day Nick would be gone and they'd be back to phone calls, and Greg would spend way too much time trying to decide whether or not he'd just imagined all this.
Before he managed to talk himself completely out of this Nick rolled the condom down, reaching for the lube and letting out a soft hiss as he ran a slick hand over his cock. A second later he was pushing inside Greg, his breathing erratic as he fought the urge to push too fast. It felt like forever before he was all the way in, slick fingers gripping Greg's hip just a little too hard. And even that felt good, better than Greg would ever admit. Then Nick started moving and Greg closed his eyes tight and pressed back into the sensation, urging Nick to move a little faster when he couldn't take the excruciating pace anymore.
Nick's hand left his hip and slid under his leg, gripping his cock hard enough to make Greg moan and tighten convulsively around the other man. For a second they both froze, but when Greg finally relaxed Nick started moving again, his hand stroking roughly in time to his thrusts. "How long?"
And it was funny how he understood exactly what Nick was asking from just two words. He could pretend he didn't, but he knew Nick would spell out the question if he had to, spitting each word out from between gritted teeth. And there was no way he was going to tell Nick the humiliating truth, no way he was going to own up to two years of hero worship that eventually grew into full-blown, pathetically unrequited love. "Don't know," he choked out, grunting when Nick thrust a little harder. "Awhile."
Nick's teeth grazed his neck and Greg shuddered, half expecting the other man to force the issue until Greg admitted the truth. There was no way Nick could know, though; he might have figured out how Greg felt about him after Greg left, but he'd been totally oblivious for a long time. If he thought the truth would get him something he'd admit it gladly, but all it would do now was make Nick feel guilty that it had taken him so long to wake up. Either that or it would make him feel like he owed Greg something, and that was the last thing he wanted. All he wanted from Nick was...this, just enough time to get it out of his system so he could get on with his life.
That was the end of the conversation for awhile, and when Nick spoke again it was to moan Greg's name when he came. That and the persistent pressure on his cock were enough to pull Greg over the edge, and he let go with a low, broken moan. For awhile they stayed that way, Nick's cock still pulsing inside him and their breathing slowly evening out. He knew it couldn't last forever, though, and when Nick finally pulled out of him Greg closed his eyes and tried to ignore the hollow feeling in the center of his chest. It didn't mean anything; it was just because he knew this would all be over soon, and there would be plenty of time to worry about that once Nick was gone.
He was still trying to convince himself that was true when strong arms wrapped around him again, Nick's lips brushing the scars closest to the top of his back. Greg tried not to shiver at the touch, but he knew he'd failed when Nick's arms tightened even more around him. Part of him wanted to pull away, to pretend he was exhausted until Nick finally fell asleep again, but Nick's chest felt good pressed against his back and Greg didn't want to move.
"If this had happened before would you have left anyway?"
The question was soft, but Nick's mouth was close to his ear and Greg heard the words clearly. He fought the urge to tense in Nick's grip, swallowing a sigh and forcing his eyes open to look down at Nick's hand pressed against his chest. "I don't know. Maybe not."
"So come back," Nick said, and his voice was so full of determination that for a second Greg almost wanted to say yes.
"Right, because Grissom'll just give me my job back because you want him to," he said instead, rolling onto his back to look at the other man. He held up a hand and watched it shake until Nick reached out and closed his own hand around it, entwining their fingers together. "He gave me my walking papers for a reason. Besides, you said yourself that they already replaced me."
"He'd find a place for you if you wanted to come back," Nick said, and he sounded so sure of himself that Greg wanted to laugh. "You're doing lab work now and it doesn't interfere."
"It's different," Greg answered, but he wasn't sure he'd be able to explain exactly how even if he wanted to. He didn't want to tell Nick that the tremor all but stopped when Nick wasn't around, that it didn't interfere with his new job as long as he wasn't thinking about anything stressful. He didn't want to have this conversation at all, because there was a part of him that sort of wished he hadn't left Vegas the way he did.
Nick's free hand slid through his hair, and he closed his eyes against the sensation. He didn't want Nick's pity, but he wanted Nick, and he wasn't sure how much he'd do to hold onto that. "Look," he said, forcing his eyes open to look at the other man, "Grissom made his decision, and I have to live with it. His loss, right?"
"It's not just his loss," Nick answered, and when Nick kissed him again Greg prayed Nick wouldn't hear how fast his heart was beating.
All things considered, Nick was feeling pretty good about his visit by the time Sunday morning rolled around. He wished they had more time, but even if he had another day or two it still wouldn't be enough. Still, they hadn't done a lot of talking in the past thirty-six hours, and he knew there were still a lot of things that needed to be said. It was hard to focus on conversation when Greg was right there in front of him, though, and once Nick was back in Vegas all they'd have was conversation.
He'd brought up the lab a couple more times after that first night, but he hadn't pressured Greg to consider coming back again. He couldn't really blame Greg for not wanting to go back after the way he'd left; if Greg was embarrassed about getting fired it was understandable, even though it wasn't his fault. That was the part that really bothered Nick -- if Greg was still living in Vegas things between them would be perfect, so it was hard not to blame Grissom and Catherine for the fact that they were stuck dealing with a long-distance relationship.
It wasn't a situation he ever thought he'd find himself in, but his feelings for Greg weren't like anything he'd ever felt before. Before he'd decided to fly to California they'd been intense, but now that they'd spent two nights together he was even more determined to make it work. His resolve got a little stronger every time he caught sight of Greg, and as he watched the other man walk out of the bathroom and run a hand through his already wild hair Nick's heart skipped a beat.
"You sure you're up for this?"
Greg rolled his eyes, but he was smiling and Nick knew he wasn't nearly as annoyed as he was trying to sound. "If you ask me that one more time I'll let you take a cab."
He wasn't about to sacrifice what little time he had left with Greg, even if it was just a ride to the airport. Greg was the one who'd offered to drive him, after all, and if he wanted to sit in traffic on his way home Nick wasn't going to talk him out of it. He tried and failed to stifle a grin as he reached for his bag, swinging it over his shoulder as he followed Greg out of the room. When they reached the elevators he pushed the down button and turned to look at Greg, reaching out to rest a hand on the other man's shoulder.
"I wish I could stay longer, but Sara's got one of her conferences starting tomorrow and Cath's got the night off for some thing with Lindsey."
Greg shrugged off the explanation, the motion making Nick's hand slip off his shoulder and onto his back. He let his fingers linger there for a second before he pulled his hand away; touching Greg had become sort of a fetish for him in the past two days, and it was hard to keep his hands to himself when he knew that soon he wouldn't be able to touch Greg at all.
"Duty calls, right?" Greg said as the elevator doors opened. He stepped inside and waited for Nick to follow before he pushed the button for the lobby. "Besides, I have to work tomorrow anyway."
"Right," Nick answered, glancing curiously at Greg as the elevator began to move. He didn't want to think that Greg was happy to be getting rid of him; he'd seemed pretty glad to have Nick around for the past two days, even if he'd been a little surprised when Nick showed up on his doorstep. Nick had expected him to be shocked, but once he got over that everything had gone exactly the way Nick hoped it would. He knew where he stood with Greg now -- he thought he did, anyway -- and that was the whole point of this trip.
"So where'd you tell Grissom you were going?" Greg asked as they reached the lobby and stepped out of the elevator.
It was the first time Greg had voluntarily brought up the subject of anything to do with Las Vegas since that first night, and Nick couldn't help wondering what exactly he was asking. The truth was that he hadn't needed to tell anyone anything -- Grissom had figured it out even before Nick did, and it didn't take the rest of the night shift long to read between the lines. He knew there was going to be a lot of teasing and maybe a few weird looks when he got back to the lab, but he didn't care about any of that. He had no idea how Greg would feel about it, though, and he didn't want to jeopardize whatever chance he had of convincing Greg to come home.
"I didn't," he finally answered, stopping at the desk long enough to drop off his key before he followed Greg out of the lobby and toward his car. "I just told him I needed a couple days off."
He couldn't tell from Greg's nod if that was the right answer or not; Greg had always been a little confusing, but ever since he left Vegas he'd been different in ways Nick hadn't really expected. He kept telling himself it shouldn't be that surprising considering -- of course Greg wouldn't be as quick to joke around and make light of his situation after what he'd been through, but he'd never expected Greg to seem so...resigned. He'd given up on the crime lab and becoming a CSI a lot more quickly than Nick ever would have expected, and he didn't seem to want to consider trying again.
Nick tossed his bag in the back of the car before he slid into the passenger seat, stealing a quick glance at Greg's profile as he buckled his seat belt. After their first night together Greg's hands had stopped shaking almost completely, and when he started the car and pulled out of the lot they were as steady as they had been before the accident. It made Nick wonder why Greg was fighting the idea of going back to Vegas so hard, especially when he knew Grissom would take him back. At least Nick thought he knew that; maybe he just needed to hear it from Grissom instead of Nick.
"I've got plenty of room at my place, you know." He knew bringing up a touchy subject was probably a bad idea, but pretty soon he'd be on a plane anyway, and then it wouldn't really matter. "In case you change your mind about that visit."
Greg sighed dramatically, but his mouth twisted into an almost-smile, and Nick couldn't help grinning back. "Are you always this stubborn?"
"Only when I want something," Nick answered. And he'd missed that smile most of all, the one that made Greg look like a kid with a secret. It made him want all sorts of things he was pretty sure he couldn't have, but knowing that didn't help him want them any less.
He wanted to tell Greg to come home even though he already knew exactly what answer he'd get. He'd beg if he thought it would make any difference, but they'd already had that conversation once, and he knew the answer hadn't changed yet. That didn't mean he was going to stop asking -- all it meant was that he'd be more careful about how he asked. He'd do whatever Greg needed, and if that meant finding an excuse to get Greg back to Vegas, that was exactly what he'd do.
He stretched out his arm and let his hand rest against the back of Greg's neck, swallowing a relieved sigh when the other man didn't flinch away from him. "Listen, tell your parents thanks again, would you?"
"You already thanked them like ten times," Greg answered, glancing over at Nick long enough to grin at him. "If you really want to score points with them you could send them a fruit basket."
Nick smiled sheepishly at that; it was true that he'd probably laid it on a little thick when he met Greg's parents, but meeting the folks wasn't something he was used to. Then there was the fact that they both knew exactly where Greg had spent the weekend; he'd called on Saturday morning so they wouldn't worry, but Nick still felt a little weird about the whole thing. It made him feel like a kid on prom night, trying to convince his date's parents that they weren't really doing anything wrong.
He didn't say anything else until Greg pulled up in front of the terminal, putting the car in park before he looked over at Nick. It had been a long time since anything really made Nick nervous, but lately whenever he thought about Greg his stomach fluttered. It was even worse when Greg was right in front of him, looking at him with a cross between expectation and uncertainty. Nick unbuckled his seat belt and leaned across the arm rest, adjusting as best he could to the awkward angle as he pressed their lips together.
Greg's mouth was warm under his, his fingers clenched around the front of Nick's shirt as though he was afraid to let go. Nick's heart skipped another beat at that thought and he surged even closer in the cramped space, suddenly wishing they weren't in a public place surrounded by busy people on their way out of town. He wanted...everything -- more time, a sign that this thing between them was going somewhere, some kind of assurance that Greg felt the same thing he was feeling.
He settled for another kiss, harder this time and a little desperate, and even that wasn't enough to calm the flurry of butterflies in his stomach. When he pulled away again he smiled and let his hand linger on Greg's neck for another moment, then he opened the door and forced himself out of the car. He opened the back door and grabbed his bag, then leaned back into the car.
"I'll give you a call," he said, hesitating for a second when Greg nodded. "And just so you know, I didn't have to tell Grissom where I was going."
Greg watched Nick disappear into the terminal, and after Nick was gone he stared at the empty space where the other man had been for longer than he really wanted to think about. He tried convincing himself that Nick hadn't really meant anything by what he'd said, but if that was true then Nick wouldn't have said it. No, there was only one thing he could have meant -- Grissom knew about them, and if Grissom knew...there was no telling who else knew.
It made sense, especially when he considered that some temp on the night shift knew who he was when he called looking for Nick. Not that Greg really minded -- he'd never been the shy type, and he'd never cared who knew the specifics of his love life. So it didn't matter to him if the entire night shift knew exactly where Nick had spent his weekend. What did bother him was the fact that Nick was concerned with who knew about his personal life -- he always had been, for as long as Greg knew him he'd kept that kind of information to himself as much as he could. It didn't make any sense that he'd tell the whole night shift he was going to visit Greg.
He wanted to go after Nick, to follow him through the airport like the hero in one of those cheesy romantic movies just so he could ask what exactly Nick had meant and why it mattered that Grissom knew where he was. He wanted to know enough to risk his car getting towed, but he didn't know which flight Nick was on or even which airline to start with. He didn't know anything, and that was just starting to sink in as he pulled away from the curb and pointed his car toward the freeway.
This weekend...it wasn't supposed to happen at all, but once Nick was standing in front of him Greg told himself maybe it was for the best. At least now they knew what they'd been missing, and they wouldn't have to spend the rest of their lives wondering. He'd told himself the not knowing was worse -- as long as he didn't know for sure his imagination could invent all kinds of amazing possibilities, but once they slept together he'd have the reality to dispel whatever wild fantasies he could come up with.
He'd never expected the reality to live up to the fantasy. That wasn't supposed to happen, just like Nick wasn't supposed to show up in the first place, then leave him with a promise to call like this was just the first step in their relationship. They didn't even have a relationship -- a relationship was about fun, it was about two people who connected on a level that defied explanation. And okay, they had that second part down, that much Greg was sure of after the past two days. But he wasn't having any fun, and he couldn't believe Nick was really looking forward to a string of phone calls and an occasional weekend here and there.
Then there was the fact that Greg was already thinking about the next time, as though they'd agreed to see each other again. Only he was pretty sure they had, because even though neither of them had said the words out loud it was pretty obvious Nick hadn't just said goodbye.
He told himself he was being stupid, that it was just sex and as soon as Nick was back in Vegas none of this would feel so intense. But Nick was gone already and Greg could still feel him, his hands on Greg's skin and their mouths fitted together and Nick pressing inside him. He could still feel Nick's fingers tracing the scars on his back when he thought Greg was asleep, sending little shivers up and down his spine, and he could feel the weight of Nick's cock on his tongue as Greg took him into his mouth. It was just sex, but it didn't feel like just anything, and he knew how hard it was going to be to forget.
Maybe if they'd left the hotel room for more than just to get some food things wouldn't have felt so intense between them. At the time it had been easy to rationalize -- it wasn't like Greg had brought extra clothes with him, and they didn't really have enough time to go sightseeing. Besides, Nick hadn't seemed all that anxious to go anywhere, and Greg hadn't seen the point in arguing. Now that it was over he knew he probably should have, but that was the problem with hindsight.
He let out a heavy sigh as he pulled up in front of his house and shut off the engine, closing his eyes for a few seconds to try and clear his head before he went inside and faced his parents. It was too much to hope that they weren't home -- he wasn't that lucky, and even if he was he knew he'd have to face them eventually. Still, he kind of wished he didn't have to do it in the clothes he'd been wearing the last time he saw them.
He tugged his collar up a little as he walked up the driveway, making sure his shirt was buttoned all the way up to hide the bruises on his neck and collarbone. Just as he suspected, when he walked into the kitchen both his parents were sitting at the table, sipping coffee and passing sections of the paper back and forth. They both glanced up when he walked in, and he willed himself not to blush. "Hi."
"Hi, honey," his mother said, setting down her section of the paper long enough to smile at him. "Did you have a good weekend?"
"Yeah," he answered, heat creeping up his neck even though he was way too old to be embarrassed about his sex life. "I would have mentioned it before Nick showed up, but he didn't tell me he was coming."
"He mentioned something about that," his mother answered in a way that made Greg wonder if she knew more about his relationship with Nick than even he did. "Such a nice boy. Very polite."
Greg rolled his eyes when his father echoed the sentiment; hearing Nick referred to as a 'boy' was bad enough, but it was pretty obvious his parents were already crazy about him. He swallowed the irrational urge to tell them Nick wouldn't be sticking around and turned toward the door that led to the rest of the house, pushing it open and heading upstairs before they could ask him any more questions. It didn't really hurt if his parents wanted to think Nick was an important part of his life, and it definitely beat explaining that he'd just spent the whole weekend with someone they'd probably never see again.
He wouldn't have to worry about it if he had his own place. He'd been putting off looking for awhile, but he was running out of excuses and he wasn't even sure anymore why he kept stalling. It would make everyone's life easier -- his parents wouldn't have to wonder where he was when he didn't show up for dinner, and he wouldn't have to fight so much traffic on his way to work. Moving out was the next logical step in getting his life back together, and now that he had a good job he could afford it.
He pulled on clean clothes before he went back downstairs, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting down at the kitchen table. "Can I have the classifieds?" he asked, smiling his thanks when his father handed them over.
"I thought you were happy with your job."
"I am," Greg answered as he flipped to the rentals. "Figured it's time to start looking for my own place. I can't keep cramping your style forever."
He grinned when his father smiled at him, ignoring the knowing look in the older man's eyes. He'd always been able to talk to them about the really important stuff, but there were some things he'd just as soon never talk to his parents about.
"There's no rush, honey," his mother said, and Greg had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "You know you're welcome to stay here as long as you like."
"Yeah, I know." He smiled and turned back to the paper, scanning the apartment listings in the city for something that sounded reasonably livable. She was still worried about him -- he couldn't blame her, not after the explosion and the rehab, but he couldn't use that as an excuse to stay. As long as he was still living with them it felt way too much like this was temporary, and it was way past time to make it feel permanent.
Nobody asked Nick about his weekend on his first night back in the lab. He told himself that was a good thing, that maybe it meant they were finally learning to mind their own business, or at the very least moving on to a more interesting topic. There were a few looks -- some of them knowing, some of them just curious -- but they were easy enough to ignore, and as long as nobody asked him it didn't have to matter what they thought.
And he knew he wasn't fooling anybody, but he wasn't sure he was ready to talk about it yet. There was still a sense of unreality about the whole thing, like maybe he'd just imagined the past two days with Greg. It would be easy to believe that it was all his imagination if he didn't have bruises and marks on his skin to show for it, marks that were shaped an awful lot like Greg's mouth. Greg's mouth that he could still feel on his own, against his skin and swallowing his cock, and Nick was already half-hard just from the memory.
He shook his head and refocused his attention on the crime scene he was supposed to be working, telling himself there was a time and a place and this past weekend was supposed to help him get a grip on his feelings, not make them even worse. Things between him and Greg were more concrete now, they had a focus and a direction and that meant he should be able to focus on his job and think about Greg only when it didn't interfere with anything else. He'd always been able to do that with relationships in the past, and there was no reason that now should be any different.
Only it was, just like everything about Greg was different from what Nick usually let himself feel. It was all new and exciting and terrifying all at the same time, and he knew before he even got on the plane back to Vegas that he was too far gone to do anything about it.
He'd called Greg when he got home, but his mother said Greg was out for the afternoon. She'd kept him on the phone for a few minutes, telling him again how much they'd enjoyed his visit and inviting him to drop in any time. Like he was just down the road. Like he could just get in his car and come over for Sunday dinner, spend time sucking up to Greg's parents just the way Greg had accused him of doing. Part of Nick wished he could, and that same part of him had actually spent the flight back considering the appropriateness of sending Greg's parents a fruit basket.
He caught himself grinning at the thought and wiped the smile off his face, dropping another suspicious fiber in an open envelope and painstakingly labeling it before he moved on. He stood up, straightening a back stiff from the past hour of collecting samples, wincing at the brief, sharp pain that shot through his lower back. There was still work to do, but right now all he wanted was a long, hot shower and his bed. He hadn't gotten much sleep in L.A., and there hadn't been time for more than a quick nap before he had to be at work.
What he could really use was a massage, but there wasn't much chance of that happening. The thought conjured a memory of Greg's hands on his back, mapping the muscles of his shoulders as he kissed his way down Nick's spine. As soon as the image flashed in his mind he pushed the memory away, closing his eyes for a second to clear his head. Too late he realized that was the worst thing he could do, because as soon as his eyes were closed he could feel Greg's hands on him even more clearly, breath hot against Nick's mouth in the seconds before Greg kissed him.
"Hey, man. You okay?"
Nick's eyes snapped open at the sound of the familiar voice, his cheeks flushing as he found Warrick watching him curiously. "Yeah, fine. Sorry. Just a little tired."
"Right." Warrick drew the word out in a voice that let Nick know he wasn't buying anything Nick was trying to sell, but he didn't really want to know the truth. "You about done in here?"
"Yeah," Nick answered, dropping the last of the evidence in his kit before he snapped it closed and picked it up. "I've got some samples to drop off in Trace. You following the body?"
Warrick nodded as he led Nick out of the hotel room and down the hall toward the elevators. He was one of the few people who hadn't been giving Nick weird looks or asking anything about Greg, but Nick knew he'd heard the rumors. It was impossible to work the night shift and not have heard them -- hell, at this point he was almost sure it was impossible to be employed by Clark County and not have heard about Nick and Greg.
They rode down to the lobby in silence, Warrick carefully avoiding looking at Nick and Nick carefully avoiding noticing. He understood -- they were friends, but they weren't that tight and the idea of Nick and a guy had probably come as a pretty big surprise to Warrick. It had definitely come as a surprise to Sara, and he had a feeling there were more than a few people in the lab who still wondered if it was all some elaborate joke.
And he had to admit that it was kind of nice that at least one person in the lab wasn't looking at him like he was some kind of specimen. That was exactly how it had felt since he got back to Vegas; he'd been telling himself all night that it was only because it was his first night back, that as soon as everybody got used to seeing him again that they'd stop looking at him like he was one of Grissom's more exotic experiments. Except that he'd only been gone two nights, and no matter what everyone thought they knew, there was no one on the night shift who actually knew what happened in California.
"So I'll drop these at the lab and meet you at Doc's," Nick said as they reached the parking lot.
Warrick nodded once and turned toward his car, and a few seconds later he was pulling away, leaving Nick to stare after him. He told himself he was glad, that he was grateful to have one person around who wouldn't press him to talk about something that was none of their business. Because he didn't want to talk about it, at least not with anyone who wasn't Greg. Only Greg hadn't called him back yet, and Nick was starting to wonder exactly where he'd been all day that meant he couldn't return a simple phone call.
He rolled his eyes when he caught himself worrying about whether or not Greg was rethinking this whole thing. They'd both been there in that hotel room, and Greg had been just as anxious as Nick to hold on to every moment, to memorize every touch. Nick had seen it in his face, clear in his expression every time he caught Greg watching him. They hadn't needed to say it because they'd both felt the exact same thing, and trying to put it into words would just make it seem less real.
That was what he'd told himself at the time, but now his phone wasn't ringing and he was almost three hundred miles away and he felt...helpless. He told himself that Greg just needed time to think things through. He just needed time to think about Nick's offer, to swallow his pride and come back to Vegas where he belonged. The important thing was that he knew how Nick felt now -- that had to count for something, and if it wasn't enough to get Greg to move back then at least it would be enough to get him to visit.
He drove back to the lab on automatic pilot, barely noticing the people he passed on the way to the trace lab. For once he avoided Hodges and dropped off his evidence with the new girl instead, forcing himself to smile when she did. She had to know why he'd been avoiding her since she started working the night shift -- there were enough big mouths in the department that he knew someone would have told her, and maybe that explained why she didn't quite meet his gaze when she took his evidence.
As soon as he could he escaped from the lab, pausing when he passed Grissom's office. He told himself he shouldn't, but he could see Grissom at his desk and he didn't really look that busy. Besides, it wouldn't really hurt to ask -- nobody would have to know except him and Grissom, and if Nick got the answer he was hoping for it might help him convince Greg to reconsider.
He walked into the older man's office before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, knocking on the doorframe as he stepped into the room. "Gris, you got a minute?"
"Something wrong?"
"Not exactly." Now that he was standing in front of Grissom he wasn't sure why he was doing this, but it was too late to back down now. So either he made up some problem with the case, or he said what was on his mind and got it over with. "It's about Greg."
"How's he doing?"
"Better," Nick answered automatically, willing himself not to blush at the fact that his boss knew exactly where he'd been during his short vacation. He wasn't entirely sure it was true; Greg's hands shook an awful lot that first night, especially when he first saw Nick, but by Sunday morning it was almost as if he didn't have a tremor at all. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I've been trying to talk him into coming back, but he doesn't think you'd take him back."
"It's not a matter of my not wanting him here," Grissom said. Nick watched as he folded his hands carefully in front of him on the paper-strewn desk, and for a second he felt more like a kid in the principal's office than an adult talking to his boss. "His qualifications were never the issue, he knows that. The question was whether or not he could perform his job."
"Yeah, I know," Nick answered, biting back a rush of impatience, "but now the question is whether or not there's still a place for him on the night shift."
For a few sickening seconds Grissom almost looked like he was going to tell Nick no, that Greg was gone and that was that. He felt the anger clenching in his stomach, a hard weight just sort of resting there and making him feel a little queasy. Then Grissom shook his head and let out one of those little sighs that let Nick know he was trying to find the right way to explain a concept he was sure his audience wouldn't understand.
"I can't promise him his job back, Nick. We've already got a full staff. But if he's ready to come back and he wanted to apply for any future openings, his application would be at the top of the pile."
Nick knew that was the best he was going to get, and he knew better than to push any more. Instead he nodded and took a few steps toward the door, telling himself it was better than a flat refusal. "Thanks, Gris."
"You're welcome. Now I believe you've got a case to solve?"
Nick grinned sheepishly and turned on his heel, walking out of Grissom's office and toward the front door. It wasn't exactly the answer he'd been hoping for, but it was better than it could have been, and with any luck it would help convince Greg to change his mind.
He knew he should have called by now. He should have called back that first night when he knew Nick would be at work and left a message on Nick's machine, just so that he could say he'd tried. Nick had called since then, of course -- he was nothing if not persistent, and Greg never would have figured him for the type who couldn't take a hint. Only he had a feeling Nick knew exactly why Greg was avoiding him, and he knew Nick wasn't going to give up easily.
The problem was that Greg didn't know what he wanted. Sometimes he wished Nick would just forget about him, move on with his life and forget they ever knew each other. Other times he wanted Nick to call -- or worse, he found himself hoping Nick would show up out of the blue again. He'd caught himself thinking about it on the drive home from work the past two days, wondering what he'd do if he walked into the house and found Nick sitting at the kitchen table, making conversation with his mother as though he belonged there.
He knew it wasn't going to happen. Nick might be stubborn and more impulsive than Greg had ever given him credit for, but he wasn't going to blow off work. That was an obligation he took seriously, and not even Greg was enough of a distraction to make him forget that. Not that Greg wanted Nick to ruin his career over this...whatever it was. He couldn't really call it a relationship, but it was more than just sex. If it was just sex Nick wouldn't have called as soon as he got back to town on Sunday, and he wouldn't have called again on Tuesday when Greg didn't call back.
It was Wednesday now, and Greg left work and drove straight to his appointment with an apartment manager just a few blocks from campus. And he wasn't wondering if there would be another call from Nick on the machine when he got home, just like he wasn't feeling guilty that he hadn't called Nick back. He'd been busy, and apartment hunting wasn't easy in L.A., so he had a good excuse. He had an excuse, and Nick was just going to have to understand that he had a life of his own.
Only he knew Nick wouldn't ask for an explanation when Greg finally called him back, and that made him feel even worse. No, Nick would be understanding, he wouldn't push or try to make Greg feel bad for blowing him off. He wouldn't say anything out loud, anyway, but he was good at making Greg feel guilty without actually saying the words.
Like that thing at the airport, announcing out of the blue that Grissom already knew about them. That was a message -- it had taken Greg awhile to decipher it, but he finally got what it meant. It had been Nick's way of telling him that this wasn't just some fling for him, that he wasn't just getting Greg out of his system. He wanted...something, something Greg probably couldn't give him. The hints about coming back to Vegas, the way he kept bringing up Greg's old job -- even the way he'd inspected Greg's hands when they were together, like he was trying to convince himself that Greg was all better and the tremor was gone.
Part of him was thrilled that Nick wanted him back in Vegas. He couldn't help it -- two years was a long time to carry a torch for someone he never thought he'd have a chance with, and it was hard not to react when he found out how wrong he'd been. That was why he'd spent a whole weekend in a hotel with Nick, why he'd driven him to the airport and let Nick kiss him goodbye like they were actually going to see each other again.
He knew better, but he'd let it happen anyway because he'd wanted it for so long than he couldn't pass up what was probably his only opportunity to have it. But now...now Nick wanted Greg to be exactly the same as he was before the explosion, and that was impossible. Even if he hadn't lost his job because of the accident he would have changed. It was inevitable, just like it was inevitable that Catherine would start being more careful in the lab and Sara would start rethinking the way her life was going.
These things were supposed to change people -- hadn't he heard that from every doctor and every shrink the hospital had paraded past him before they finally sent him home? They hadn't done him any good, but now he wished he could get one of them to explain some of this to Nick.
None of his frustration changed the fact that Nick wanted him, though, and whenever the thought snuck up on him he still felt the same wave of startled awe. It was enough to make him think about showing up in Vegas for a weekend, just for a second before he really thought about what it would mean to show up in Vegas, and then the panic took hold again. Because he wanted...more, more of Nick and more of whatever they'd started in that hotel room, but just the thought of Vegas made his hands twitch against the steering wheel as he pulled up in front of the apartment complex that advertised quiet and a partial view.
The view bit was crap, he knew that much, and considering the residents were most likely almost all students he figured the quiet part was crap too. Still, the price was right, and as long as it was clean and available he didn't care about much else. It was just a place to sleep, really, and student housing meant they wouldn't require a full year's lease. He wasn't sure why exactly that was important, but whenever he found himself thinking about it he just told himself he wanted to keep his options open.
Not that he had many options these days, he reminded himself as he let himself into the rental office. He pasted on his friendliest grin for the benefit of the receptionist, told her his name and settled into one of the worn armchairs pushed back against the far wall. He flipped through a brochure while he waited, staring at the different floor plans without really taking in the details. This was the fourth place he'd looked at, and the apartments were already starting to blend together. The truth was that they all looked pretty much the same -- four white walls, worn, nondescript carpet, and a balcony that was just big enough to display the nonexistent 'view' every complex in L.A. boasted.
The door to the inner office opened and he looked up, turning his smile back on as a tired-looking man in a dingy white work shirt walked toward him. "Mr. Sanders?" the man asked, holding out his hand as he descended on Greg.
"Greg," he answered, taking the other man's hand and shaking it briefly.
"Thanks for waiting," the manager said, producing a ring of keys out of nowhere. "You wanted to look at the one bedroom model?"
"If you've got any available," Greg answered, dropping the brochure back on the table as the other man led the way to the door.
"Just so happens one just opened up. It's right this way."
Greg followed him up a set of concrete stairs, past a sun-bleached concrete pool at the center of the complex. They stopped at the far end of the second story, and Greg listened to the traffic in the background as he waited for the manager to find the right key. At least it sounded like Vegas, he told himself as he followed the older man inside, blinking against the sudden change in light.
Once his eyes adjusted he glanced around -- there was a small galley kitchen just off a bland, square living room carpeted in what probably started off as beige shag. The balcony was past a set of sliding glass doors on the far side of the living room, but at least it was the second floor so he wouldn't have to worry too much about break-ins. The bedroom looked pretty much like every other apartment he'd looked at, and there was a small bathroom at the end of the hall. Less than five minutes later he'd seen the entire place.
"Of course this model doesn't have a view," the apartment manager said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the balcony, "so the rent's a little lower. There's another unit opening up at the end of the month..."
"But I could move in to this one right away."
"Once your application and credit check are processed, of course," the older man answered, pursing his lips for a second before he continued, "the unit would be available immediately, yes."
Greg nodded and took one last look around, ignoring the nagging feeling that he should think this through a little more before he did anything drastic. "Great. Can I fill out that application today?"
When the machine picked up Nick let out a frustrated sigh and hung up the phone. He didn't bother to leave yet another message -- he knew it wouldn't do any good, and besides, he'd already left three messages for Greg since Sunday. He was starting to feel like a stalker; this wasn't the way things were supposed to go, he wasn't supposed to spend more time on the phone with Greg's mom than with Greg himself. At first he'd told himself Greg just needed a little time to take everything in, that he was adjusting to a lot of changes and once he got used to the idea Nick could start working on convincing him that things could work between them.
Only it had been nearly a week since Nick last spoke to Greg, and he was starting to think he'd pushed too far with that parting shot about Grissom. He'd pushed too hard and made Greg nervous, and now he was backing off entirely. That was exactly the opposite of what was supposed to happen, but Nick couldn't do anything to fix it if Greg wouldn't even return his calls.
He was still brooding when the phone rang; the sudden break in the silence made him flinch, and he reminded himself that it was probably just a family member or Grissom calling him in on his day off as he reached for the cordless. "Stokes."
"Still trying to be Grissom when you grow up?"
The sound of Greg's voice sent a wave of relief through him, followed quickly by anger. He wasn't surprised that the first thing out of Greg's mouth after five days of silence was a joke, but that didn't mean he had to go along with it. "If you don't like the way I answer my phone you could always call somebody else."
A long pause was his only answer, and he worked hard not to regret snapping. If Greg didn't want to deal...well, Nick didn't have to like it, but he couldn't make Greg want the same things he did. He was starting to think that maybe Greg hung up, but a few seconds later a throat cleared and he had to sit down before his knees gave out on him.
"Guess I should have called earlier."
He was probably just hearing what he wanted to hear, but it almost sounded like Greg was sorry. Whether it was just guilt or an actual apology Nick had no idea, but he let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes to picture Greg on the other end of the line. "Look, G, I'm not...I just need to know what we're doing here."
"I was hoping you knew," Greg said, and there was just enough nervous laughter behind the joke to make Nick think that maybe he hadn't imagined everything he thought Greg felt about him. "It's just been a really busy week, but I should have called."
"Yeah? What have you been doing all week?" And he wasn't jealous -- he didn't have any claim on Greg, for one thing, and he couldn't expect Greg to just sit around in his room when Nick wasn't around.
"I found an apartment."
The words hit him harder than they should have. As soon as Greg said it Nick told himself he shouldn't be surprised, that Greg didn't have any intention of moving back to Vegas, and it was only a matter of time before he found a place of his own. That didn't make him feel any less like he'd just been punched in the stomach, though, and he had to remind himself to breathe before he could even think about coming up with an answer.
"When...when are you moving?"
"As soon as my application goes through," Greg answered. "They're waiting on the credit check, but I should get the keys on Monday. Would have been nice if I could have moved in over the weekend, but what can you do."
"Yeah, lousy timing," Nick heard himself say, but he wasn't really paying attention to the conversation. His brain was already working overtime to think of something, anything he could do to stop this from happening. When he caught himself wondering who owed him a favor and how he could get them to mess with Greg's credit history he shook his head and stood up, pacing the living room in an effort to regain some control. Or maybe just some sanity.
He forced himself to focus on Greg's voice as the other man tried to sell him on the new place, but it sounded a lot like Greg was trying to convince himself this was the right thing to do. Somewhere in the back of Nick's head a voice was screaming for him to tell Greg that it wasn't, that this was the worst thing he could do. He wanted Greg to pack up his stuff and leave his parents' house, sure, but he wanted Greg to move back to Vegas. He wanted Greg here, in his house, with him all the time. And maybe that was moving way too fast considering they weren't even really dating, but he was way beyond thinking rationally about what was happening between them.
"Listen, G," he interrupted, stopping Greg right in the middle of telling him how close his new place was to campus, "there's something I need to tell you. It's the reason I've been trying to get a hold of you all week. I talked to Grissom..."
"Nick," Greg warned, but it was already too late, because he was talking right over Greg as though he hadn't even heard him.
"He can't guarantee you your job back, but he made it pretty clear that when you're ready your name would be at the top of the list. If you called him he might bring you back as a trainee -- there's money in the budget for a new CSI, and someone's going to get promoted this year..."
"Nick." Louder this time and laced with anger, and Nick paused long enough to realize what he was doing. He was pushing again, but suddenly he wasn't sure he cared whether or not he pushed Greg away completely. If Greg didn't even want to try then there was no point in Nick waiting around just to be disappointed later. "I'm not coming back."
"Why not? We're talking about the job you always wanted. You don't have to throw that away just because you're embarrassed."
"I'm not embarrassed," Greg snapped. "This isn't about why I left."
"Then what's it about?" Nick asked. He knew any second now Greg was going to get really mad, maybe even tell him to lose his number, but if they couldn't even talk about it then there was no reason for Nick to keep calling. "You can spend the rest of your life feeling sorry for yourself if you want, but it's not going to change anything."
He knew he shouldn't have said it. He knew as the words were leaving his mouth that he was going to regret it. Greg had every right to be angry about what happened to him, and it wasn't the kind of thing anyone could just get over. That didn't mean he had to let it ruin his life, though, and Nick couldn't believe the Greg Sanders he'd known for the past five years was going to give up just because of a temporary setback.
"G, I'm sorry," he said when he was met with heavy silence on the other end of the line. "I didn't mean..."
"Do me a favor," Greg interrupted, "save it for somebody who wants to hear it."
The line clicked before he could answer, and Nick sat frozen on his couch and listened to static until the dial tone finally roused him out of his trance. He hung up the phone and dropped it on the coffee table, closing his eyes and running his hands over his face. He still didn't know what was going on between them, and now he wasn't so sure he was ever going to find out.
It took Greg a few hours to start feeling guilty, but by the time he started to regret hanging up on Nick it seemed like it was too late to call him back. The truth was that Nick had been right -- Greg was embarrassed about the way he left, and he'd spent a lot of time feeling sorry for himself in the past few months. Those weren't the biggest reasons he didn't want to go back to Las Vegas, but they were close enough to the truth to sting.
Not that he was entirely at fault. Nick just wouldn't let the Vegas thing go, and even though part of Greg was flattered, he was getting a little tired of hearing about it. He didn't want to call Grissom and ask for his job back; he liked California, and anyway he was making more money at his new job than he had been at the crime lab. He'd told Grissom once that it wasn't about the money and he still believed it, but he wasn't sure he could make Nick understand what it was about.
Maybe Nick was right and he was just letting his pride get in the way of his happiness, but it wasn't like he was miserable in L.A. He liked his job, he liked his friends and it was kind of nice to be close to his parents again. His new apartment wasn't much to look at, but it wasn't that different from his place in Vegas, and besides it wasn't like he was planning to spend a lot of time there. All California was really missing was Nick, but he had a feeling he'd screwed that up anyway.
It wasn't that hard not to think about it while he was busy repacking the few things he'd bothered to unpack in the first place. Getting his keys and moving his things from his parents' place to the apartment took up most of his free time for almost a week, but when he found himself alone in an apartment surrounded by boxes it was hard to stop himself from thinking. There wasn't much else to do, really, because unpacking all the stuff he hadn't seen since Vegas just reminded him of exactly what he'd left behind.
Everything reminded him of the lab -- his textbooks, the coffee mug he'd kept on his lab station for as long as he could remember, even that stupid surfboard keychain he'd fished out of his drawer the day he'd packed up the last of his stuff. He pushed the memory of the lab to the back of his mind and tried to focus on the future, on everything he could do now that he was back in California. His hands had stopped shaking so much, and with any luck he'd be ready to get back out on the waves by next season. Steve had made him promise he'd drag his surfboard out of his parents' basement, and now it was leaning against the wall in his new living room, just waiting for Greg to pull himself together.
There was a lot to look forward to, and nothing that he'd left behind couldn't be replaced or forgotten eventually. He wasn't missing anything -- not even Nick, because sure, Greg had wanted him for a long time, but it wasn't like they were committed or anything. Even if they were it wouldn't matter, because he was here and Nick had no intention of leaving Vegas. He wanted Greg, but on his own terms, and he was asking for something Greg couldn't afford to give.
When he got to the stack of CDs Nick had bought to replace the ones that had melted in the lab his lips twitched into an involuntary smile -- it was impossible not to picture Nick standing in the door to his bedroom looking nervous and hopeful, a little confused but determined too, like he knew what he wanted and he wasn't planning to take no for an answer. And he hadn't, at least not until Greg hung up on him.
Before he could stop himself he was reaching for the phone, telling himself it was too late even as he dialed Nick's number. He expected to get the machine -- part of him wanted to get the machine, so he could leave a message telling Nick he was sorry but it was probably for the best if they just called it off now. That was the smartest thing to do, because he wasn't going back to Vegas and Nick wasn't going to let the subject drop.
He rehearsed his speech in his head while he listened to the phone ring, and when the machine did pick up he told himself he wasn't disappointed. It was better this way, because now he wouldn't have to hear Nick agree that they should quit while they were ahead. He steeled himself for the beep, but before Nick's recorded voice got to the part about leaving a name and number the line crackled, and a second later a sleepy voice murmured 'hello?' in his ear.
"Nick."
A second of silence, then Nick's throat cleared and he heard the rustle of sheets and God, Greg could just picture him stretched out on his mattress. "Greg?"
"Yeah. Sorry. For waking you up. I mean, I'm sorry for hanging up on you -- that's why I called, but I thought you'd be at work."
"So you called to apologize to my machine?" He sounded more awake now, but Greg couldn't tell if he was still mad or just tired.
"I guess. I didn't really plan it out first."
Nick laughed at that, and when Greg heard him moving again he couldn't help picturing it. He bit back a groan and closed his eyes, but all that did was make Nick's voice sound even more like it was right in his ear. "I figured I blew it for good. I didn't expect to hear from you."
And he was so stupid, because he'd had the perfect out and he'd screwed it up. All he'd had to do was not call, just forget about Nick and move on with his life, and Nick would have done the same. It would have been so easy, but then he never would have gotten to hear Nick's voice, still thick with sleep and whispering right in his ear. He hated himself for being so weak, but he closed his eyes again anyway and leaned back on the couch to picture Nick on the other end of the line.
"Look, I just...I need to know what you want from me."
Nick sighed heavily and Greg tensed -- he knew what was coming before Nick said it, but he'd asked and he couldn't take it back. "I want you to come home."
"I am home," Greg answered, and there was a part of him that actually meant it.
"You know what I mean," Nick said, and this wasn't fair, because his voice was low and thick and Greg wanted to ask what he was wearing just so he could hear Nick say 'nothing'. "We've got a shot at something here. The timing sucks, yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't still try."
"It was one weekend. It doesn't change anything." He didn't believe that any more than Nick did -- they'd both been there, and they both knew how much had changed in one weekend -- but he almost wished it was true. At least then it would be easier to walk away.
"You know that's not true. Even if it was just the weekend it changes things."
He wanted to tell Nick that it was just sex, because even though it would be a lie it would still sting. But just the fact that he knew exactly how to hurt Nick stopped him from saying it; he had no idea when he'd gotten this weak or this sentimental, just like he didn't know when he'd fallen in love with Nick or what to do about it. "So what do we do now?"
"Come to Vegas," Nick said, talking fast so Greg wouldn't have a chance to interrupt, "just for a visit. We need...we should do this face to face."
It had barely been two weeks since the last time they saw each other, but Greg knew exactly what Nick meant. He hadn't been able to think about anything else since the moment Nick got out of his car, but he knew exactly what would happen if he went back to Vegas. Nick would spend the entire time trying to convince Greg of why he should move back, and Greg would spend the whole time feeling completely off-balance. "I can't."
He expected an argument, but instead Nick just sighed and tried again. "I'll come there, then. I've got a couple vacation days left, and I can get Warrick or somebody to switch shifts with me."
And this was a bad idea, because one weekend had changed things, but another one wasn't going to make any difference. All it would do was make it harder to finally call it off when they figured out it wasn't working, and that had to happen eventually. Vegas wasn't that far from L.A., but it might as well be in an ocean away while they were trying to work out a relationship.
"I'm not going to change my mind," he said, even though he knew Nick wasn't going to stop trying.
"I know," Nick answered. "I just need to see you."
He knew he was going to regret it before he agreed, but when he opened his mouth the words tumbled out, yes and okay and he had to bite back a desperate hurry. He wanted Nick there now, wanted the waiting to be over with so he could lose himself in feeling for awhile and not have to think about what happened when Nick went back to Vegas.
It took two weeks for Nick to clear his schedule. Two weeks for three days with Greg, and he'd had to threaten to tell Warrick exactly why he wanted the time off to get him to switch nights with Nick. It was worth whatever he had to do, though, worth the looks from everyone at work and the crowded flight and the stares he got when he saw Greg waiting at the gate and stopped short, forgetting for a second where he was and that there was a crowd of people behind him.
He was jolted back to reality when someone collided with him, and he mumbled an apology and tightened his grip on his bag, threading his way through the crowd to stop in front of Greg. "I thought you were at work."
"Left early. Told them I had to pick someone up at the airport."
Nick didn't even try to stop himself from reaching out, fingers sliding through Greg's hair and down the back of his neck. For the first time in his life he didn't care who was watching, but he wasn't sure how Greg would feel if he kissed him right in front of an entire airport full of people, so he settled for sliding his arm around the other man's shoulders and looking around. "Which way's your car?"
Greg laughed and nodded toward the right, and several frustrating minutes later they found themselves in the relative privacy of the airport parking lot. There were a few people around, but most of them were too focused on their bags to notice Nick catching Greg around the waist and pressing him up against his car.
"When do you have to be back?" Greg asked, his hands already working their way under Nick's shirt, and maybe he wouldn't have minded the public kissing so much after all.
"Monday afternoon," Nick answered between kisses, the words murmured against Greg's mouth. And he didn't want to talk about going back; he didn't even want to think about leaving, not until he had to. "Think you can take Monday off too?"
"I already did." Greg pulled away with an effort, palms flat against Nick's chest to push him to a safe distance. "My place. Now."
Nick grinned at the breathless demand and tossed his bag in the back seat, then slid into the passenger seat and shifted to try to find a comfortable position in his suddenly too-tight jeans. He had no idea where Greg's new place was, but unless it was actually in the airport it was way too far away. The drive into the city went by in a blur, and by the time he was actually inside Greg's apartment Nick couldn't remember a single thing about the drive. There was some small talk about Greg's folks and Nick's flight, but most of the drive was more or less a tension-filled silence, and Nick had to fight to keep his hands to himself so he wouldn't cause an accident.
Once the door closed behind him he forced himself to stop long enough to look around, taking in the boxes still stacked around the living room and the couch pushed up against the far wall. He wasn't really interested in Greg's décor, though, and when Greg grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him forward Nick got the impression he wasn't really interested in giving Nick a tour.
"Nice place."
"It's a dive," Greg answered, the words muffled against Nick's neck, "but it's close to work."
His hands slid back under Nick's shirt, pushing the fabric up and over his chest. Nick pulled back long enough to tug it off, dropping it on the floor before he reached for Greg again and pushed him forward toward what he assumed was the bedroom. He got Greg's shirt off before they reached the bedroom, and by the time they actually made it to the bed there was a trail of clothes behind them. And this was all he'd been thinking about for the past two weeks, but when Greg was finally stretched out under him Nick paused, bracing himself on one arm to look down at the other man.
"What?" Greg asked, and God, he actually sounded worried that Nick might be changing his mind. He had no idea...he couldn't, because if he did he'd never worry about how Nick felt about him again.
"I meant what I said, G. I miss you." For a second Greg's eyes clouded and Nick thought maybe he'd screwed up already. He was starting to develop a real talent for saying exactly the wrong thing whenever Greg was concerned, but he'd flown back to California so they could work everything out, and that wasn't going to happen if he didn't say what he was thinking.
Greg shrugged and slid one hand down the center of Nick's chest, and when his mouth twitched into a grin Nick's heart skipped a beat. "Of course you do. Your life's gotta be pretty boring without me around."
He laughed and rolled onto his side, playfully swatting Greg's hip. "Smartass."
"I don't know if my ass is smart," he began, but he trailed off with a gasp when Nick's hand slid over the ass in question, two fingers pressing against the taut skin behind his balls. Nick took advantage of his surprise to press their lips together, his tongue sliding into Greg's mouth as he pressed the tip of his finger inside the other man.
When he pulled away Greg was panting, one knee bent and slung over Nick's hips to give Nick better access. And he looked better than Nick remembered, pale skin flushed and his whole body pressing back into Nick's touch. His eyes were closed, and before Nick could stop himself he was leaning forward, pressing kisses to Greg's eyelids, then his cheeks, feathering kisses along whatever skin he could reach. He wanted...everything, and he knew three days was never going to be enough.
His stomach clenched at the thought but he pushed it away roughly, pulling his hand away from Greg to push him onto his back again. "Do you have any protection?"
"Yeah," Greg answered, his voice breaking on the single syllable, "in...in the drawer."
He gestured vaguely toward the nightstand, and jealousy surged up hot inside of Nick as he wondered who else had been in this bed since Greg moved into his new place. He pushed himself up long enough to open the drawer and pull out a box of condoms, dropping it on the mattress and grabbing the lube before he crawled back over Greg. "We need to talk."
"Now?" Greg asked, part frustration and part whine, and it was so cute Nick couldn't help laughing.
"I just want to know if you're sleeping with anybody else."
For a second Greg just looked confused, then he frowned and shook his head. "Jesus...no. I mean I know I've got a reputation and all, but I'm usually a one-person kind of guy."
"Good," Nick said, biting back a comment about exactly what kind of reputation Greg had. "Me too."
"So is there anything else you wanted to talk about, or do you think we can get back to what we were doing?" Greg asked, thrusting up against Nick to illustrate his point.
Nick bit back a groan and fumbled for the lube he'd dropped on the mattress. "I'm good for now."
He squeezed some of the clear liquid onto his fingers and dropped the bottle again, shifting onto his side to slide two fingers inside Greg this time. He knew better than to read too much into the fact that Greg wasn't seeing anybody else, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted it to mean something, wanted it to mean that Greg felt the same way he did. Even if it didn't automatically spell a future for them it was a start.
His mouth moved on Greg's skin, down his neck and then his chest, seeking out all the spots on Greg that made him gasp and clamp down hard on Nick's fingers. Greg's hands flexed against his shoulders, digging in hard enough to leave angry-looking red marks against Nick's skin. When he started babbling Nick pulled back long enough to reach for a condom, sliding it down his length and running a slick hand over his cock before he knelt between Greg's legs and pushed his knees toward his chest.
He slid into tight heat in one smooth motion, closing his eyes against the urge to push when Greg tensed. His hands moved in soothing circles along Greg's skin, his breath coming in short gasps as he waited for Greg to relax. When he finally did Nick sank into him, leaning forward to brace his hands on either side of Greg's shoulders. He pressed their lips together for a hard kiss as he began moving his hips, in slow circles at first until Greg was panting and pushing up against him, murmuring things like now and more and a few things Nick couldn't make out.
"Pushy," Nick muttered just to hear Greg laugh, but he shifted a little, angling his hips until he found the spot that made Greg gasp and arch up against him. And there were a thousand things he needed to tell Greg, but he knew if he said any of them right now it would be way too easy to write it off as the heat of the moment, and when he said 'I love you' for the first time he wanted to make sure Greg believed him.
Instead he focused on hitting Greg's prostate with each stroke, over and over until finally Greg was begging incoherently. He reached between them and wrapped a strong hand around Greg's cock, stroking in time with his own thrusts until Greg was pushing up into his hand, demanding more without saying a word. Nick gave it gladly, tightening his grip and pressing his thumb hard along the underside of Greg's cock over and over until he came with a low, broken moan.
He thrust one more time, groaning when Greg clamped down hard on his cock to hold him there, burying himself as deep as he could before he came. Warm hands slid across his sweat-slick back when Nick collapsed onto Greg's chest, breathing hard against his neck. He wanted to go back to the beginning and start all over as soon as he caught his breath, because getting up and cleaning themselves up meant they were going to have to talk, and suddenly he wasn't sure he was ready for that. What he wanted to do was stay just like this for as long as possible, with Greg's fingers tracing little circles on his back and his heart beating against Nick's ear.
It was impossible, though, and too soon Nick was pushing himself up, pulling out of Greg and forcing himself off the mattress to find the bathroom. He was washing his hands when he felt something move behind him, and he glanced in the mirror to find Greg watching him.
"You want a shower?" Greg asked, the corners of his mouth turning up in a suggestive grin.
Relief hit Nick hard and he smiled back at Greg's reflection before he turned around, pulling the other man close. "As long as you're coming."
"We just did that," Greg answered, raising and eyebrow as he looked Nick up and down. "But we could always try again."
His hands hadn't trembled once since Nick showed up, but now that they were sitting across from each other in a public place and Nick was looking at him with that intense, determined expression Greg felt like his whole body was shaking. He felt like he might fly apart just from the weight of Nick's gaze, even though he knew it wasn't physically possible. There was a first time for everything, after all, and if working at the crime lab had taught him anything, it was to expect the unexpected.
They'd managed to avoid the conversation Greg knew was coming for most of Saturday. They'd even managed to leave the apartment long enough for Greg to give Nick a tour of campus, and eventually they found themselves in a booth at the back of a diner not far from Greg's place. He knew they were going to have to talk -- that was the whole reason Nick had flown to California in the first place -- but he wasn't looking forward to it, and he'd been hoping to avoid it at least until tomorrow.
He waited until the waitress took their order and walked away, watching out of the corner of his eye until he was sure she was gone. "I think she likes you."
"Who?"
"The waitress, what's her name? Debbie? Donna?" And okay, they both knew he was just putting off the inevitable, but Nick couldn't blame him for trying. They still had another whole day together before Nick had to go back to Vegas, and as far as he was concerned conversation could wait.
"I wasn't listening," Nick answered. "Anyway, she's not my type."
"What's wrong with her?" Greg asked, glancing toward the front of the restaurant in time to catch her looking over at them. "Too short? Too blonde. It's not because she waits tables, is it?"
Nick laughed and reached across the table, catching Greg's hand and threading their fingers together. It wasn't the first time he'd ever touched Greg in front of other people -- there had been plenty of seemingly innocent touches when they were still working together, and then there was the whole making out in the airport parking lot thing. That had taken Greg by surprise; he'd always figured Nick for the private type, but holding hands in a public restaurant definitely wasn't discreet.
"She's not you, for one thing."
He was tempted to make a joke about Nick's hidden romantic side, but there was a part of him that worried if he made fun of it Nick would stop. He might even let go of Greg's hand, and even though he'd never admit it, he kind of liked the fact that Nick was willing to touch him in front of other people. It made him wonder if things would be different if they were still in Vegas. He'd never know for sure how they would have juggled work and a personal life if he'd stayed, but then again, if he'd stayed Nick might never have gotten around to doing anything about the way he felt.
"Look, G, there are some things I need to say."
And he'd known this was coming, but it still made his stomach clench to hear Nick say the words. He wasn't even sure what he was so nervous about; he knew what Nick was going to say, and he knew it wasn't going to change anything. If he thought it would work he'd cut Nick off, tell him he already knew and there was no point in saying it out loud. But this was the whole point of the weekend, so instead he just pulled his hand out of Nick's and nodded.
"I know you don't want to talk about going back to Vegas. I know..no, just hear me out," he said when Greg opened his mouth to interrupt. "I want this to work, and I think you do too. If we have to do this long-distance until you're ready I'll live with it. But you can't expect me to stop wanting you around."
"So you're just going to hang around and wait for me to decide I can't live without you." He hadn't really meant the words to come out like that, but he didn't want to take them back. It was the truth; Nick did expect him to change his mind and go running back to Vegas eventually, and the only real question was how long he was willing to wait.
"That's not what I meant," Nick answered, but they both knew it was. "I love you. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."
He'd expected hearing the words out loud to make him feel different somehow, but they didn't change anything. They were still stuck in an impossible situation, and unless Greg gave in and moved back to Vegas he didn't see how it was going to change.
"So I'm supposed to grovel to Grissom for my job just on the off chance things work out with us? What happens if they don't?" Guilt shot through him when Nick winced and looked away; he knew this wasn't how Nick had been expecting this conversation to go, and part of him wanted to take it all back. He wanted to forget about the logistics and just enjoy the fact that Nick loved him, but he knew that as soon as Nick was back in Vegas their problems would start all over again.
"Look," he said, reaching out to brush his fingers across Nick's knuckles, "I'm just saying 'what if'. You can't say for sure that you'll still want me around in a year."
When Greg touched him Nick looked at him again, his mouth set in a determined line and just for a second Greg wanted to agree to whatever Nick asked. "We've known each other for five years. I'm sure."
He wanted to believe it; it was easy when Nick looked so sure, so determined to convince Greg that this was what he wanted. But that didn't change the fact that it had taken Greg leaving town for Nick to do anything about the way he felt, and it didn't change the fact that Greg had just signed a lease and started living his life again.
"Look," Nick said when Greg didn't answer, "we don't have to decide anything now. I just wanted you to know that I'm not screwing around here."
Nick leaned back in the booth and smiled, but even though he was trying not to show it Greg caught the hint of worry in his expression. Guilt shot through him and he wished suddenly that he'd just said 'I love you too' and kept his mouth shut about the future, but it was too late for that now. He'd missed his moment, and now they were going to spend the rest of the weekend with this conversation hanging over them. He knew they'd both try to ignore it, to pretend nothing had changed and they were still working it out, but it would still be there between them.
Just a few months ago he would have given anything to hear Nick say he wanted Greg, let alone that he loved him. There was a time when he would have settled for casual, because he'd always assumed that was what Nick was about. Everybody at the lab always joked about Nick's commitment issues and Greg had never expected to be the exception to that rule. Now that he was...now that Nick was offering an actual commitment Greg wasn't sure he could believe it. He wasn't even sure he wanted it, because saying yes meant giving in and going back to a life he'd already left behind.
Nick’s hands slid down Greg's back, thumbs pressing along either side of his spine until he found that spot that made Greg gasp and arch back into his touch. His mouth followed the path of his hands, soft kisses followed by gentle nips that made Greg shudder against him. He was taking his time, methodically mapping every inch of Greg, and he’d never admit it, but they both knew exactly what he was doing.
He didn’t want to believe that this was it, that he’d never get another chance to touch Greg or kiss him or even say those words he hadn’t said to anyone since college. Neither of them wanted to admit that this might be the last time, but still Nick was committing every touch, every breath and every contented murmur to memory. He just wanted to hold on to these few days together because he didn't know when it would happen again. It didn't mean this was the end, but he'd used up all his vacation time and if Greg wouldn't come to Vegas it might be awhile before they saw each other.
It wasn't the end of anything -- Nick didn't want it to be, and he knew Greg didn't either. If he did Nick wouldn't be in his bed right now, kissing a hot trail down the side of his hip. He was the one who'd called Nick, after all, when Nick had finally decided to take a hint and give up on Greg entirely. And maybe he would have changed his mind eventually and called Greg himself, but he hadn't and that meant something. It meant Greg wanted this as much as Nick did, that he didn't want to let it go no matter how hard it was to work out the logistics.
They hadn't talked about it since their conversation in the diner. They hadn't talked about much of anything since they made it back to Greg's apartment, not about what they were doing or where they went from here or even what to do with the rest of their time together. It was Sunday night already and they'd barely gotten out of bed all day -- they hadn't talked about that either, but they both knew Nick would be going home tomorrow and somehow they'd agreed not to waste any time without ever saying it out loud.
His hand slid between Greg's thighs, thumb stroking the taut skin just behind Greg's balls. Greg gasped and splayed his legs apart, pushing his hips up until Nick's thumb pressed inside him. And that wasn't the sign of somebody who didn't want this, of someone who was just biding his time until Nick was out of his life. No, this was Greg wanting him -- wanting Nick and nobody else. He'd already admitted that he wasn't seeing anybody else, and Nick wanted that to mean that there was still a chance he'd change his mind about Vegas.
He wanted to believe a lot of things -- that Greg loved him too, that this thing between them meant more to him than his pride. He wanted to believe that Greg would change his mind eventually, and yeah, maybe he was just waiting for the day that Greg would decide he couldn't live without Nick. Nick didn't really think that was so much to ask, especially when he already knew he didn't want to live without Greg.
Greg shifted under him and let out a low moan, pushing back against his hand hard enough to get Nick's attention. Nick knew what he was asking for, but he wanted to make it last as long as he could. He wanted to draw this out all night if possible, or maybe just make Greg want it so much that he was begging by the time Nick finally slid inside him. That thought made his cock twitch, but he ignored his own need and pulled his hand away from Greg, leaning over him to press his mouth to the side of Greg's neck.
He licked a path along hot skin, pausing to press another kiss to the top of Greg's shoulder before he moved down his back. It had taken him awhile during that first weekend to get used to the sight of Greg's scars; he'd spent too much time tracing them with his fingers, reassuring himself over and over that Greg was fine. Now they were just another part of Greg, just something else for Nick to remember when he was on the plane headed home.
His heart caught in his throat at the thought, but he swallowed hard and did his best to ignore it, focusing all his attention on the warm expanse of skin underneath him. He'd never get tired of watching Greg shift restlessly under his touch, always pressing back for more even when Nick's hands gripped his hips to hold him to the mattress. He loved just watching Greg move -- he never realized just how much until he couldn't see Greg every day at work, and now that he'd seen Greg like this he couldn't imagine going back to not knowing.
It was impossible, because even if he wanted to forget he knew he wouldn't be able to. No matter what Greg decided Nick wasn't going to stop wanting him, wanting him around and wondering what he could have done to keep things from getting this far out of control. He wasn't really blaming himself -- not anymore -- but he couldn't stop himself from feeling sort of...helpless. It should have been easy to fix their problems, but so far Greg had shot down every idea Nick came up with, and he wasn't sure what else to do.
Greg shifted under him again, pushing back and then turning in Nick's grip until they were face to face. Just for a second Nick could see everything Greg hadn't said in his eyes, then he reached up and pulled Nick down for a hard kiss, and Nick could feel what he wasn't saying.
"Love you," he murmured against Greg's mouth, the sound lost in the kiss as Greg rocked up against him, hands gripping him hard enough to bruise as he struggled to pull Nick closer. And just like that all his plans to take it slow were forgotten; it was all he could do to hold on long enough to reach for a condom before he was kneeling between Greg's legs, hands under his hips to line them up before he slid inside. He'd lost count of how many times they'd done this, but he still had to struggle to catch his breath when Greg's legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him in even further.
He choked back a harsh moan and started moving, hands braced against the mattress on either side of Greg's chest. Greg surged up to meet each thrust, his head back and his lips parted and God, Nick was never going to be able to leave. He couldn't get on that plane knowing that as soon as he was gone Greg would start looking for ways to talk himself out of this. He couldn't just leave, not when they hadn't really settled anything.
So far all they'd really proven was that they were compatible in bed, and that didn't prove that they'd be good together for the long haul. It felt like enough, though, and Nick knew plenty of people who'd based relationships on a lot less. He couldn't remember ever wanting something to work as much as he wanted this, anyway, and that had to count for something.
Way too soon he was panting and thrusting harder, Greg's voice in his ear urging him to move faster and faster until all he could hear was the blood pounding against his eardrums. He wasn't sure which of them lost control first, but when he tensed and buried himself deep inside Greg he felt wet heat hit his chest and then Greg's arms on his back to pull him close. He turned his face into Greg's neck, pressing breathless, almost desperate kisses to sweat-slick skin.
A hand slid through his hair, tightening just enough to pull him up until he was facing Greg. For a second he thought Greg might actually say some of the things he'd been avoiding since yesterday, but a second later he surged up to press their lips together again. Nick told himself it was okay. He didn't need to hear the words -- he already knew how Greg felt, and hearing it out loud wouldn't really make a difference.
"I'm not giving up," he said when Greg let him up for air. As soon as he said it he wondered if he was pushing too hard again, but they didn't have much time left and he couldn't go home without something.
"I know." Nick expected him to sound annoyed, maybe even a little angry, but instead Greg just sounded resigned. "I know how stubborn you are."
Nick grinned at that, reaching up to push a few damp strands of hair away from Greg's forehead. "You make that sound like a bad thing."
"Well it can get kind of annoying," Greg answered, the corners of his mouth twitching with a barely suppressed grin, "but I've had a few years to get used to it."
Nick rolled his eyes and shifted until he was lying on his side next to Greg, their shoulders pressed together and the mess on his stomach starting to dry. He knew he should get up and wash up a little, but the last thing he wanted to do was get out of Greg's bed. "I thought it was part of my charm."
"Depends who you ask."
He glanced over to find Greg smiling, all traces of tension gone for the first time since Nick got off the plane. His heart clenched hard in his chest and for a second he couldn't move -- he couldn't speak or do anything, then Greg leaned in and kissed him again and suddenly it didn't matter if he never remembered how to breathe. This was all he needed, right here in this crappy apartment in a city he'd barely even seen. He just had to find a way to make Greg see it too.
I'm not giving up. The words had been playing over and over in his head since Nick said them, that low, determined voice whispering in his ear even after Nick was gone. He knew Nick meant it -- there was no doubt about that, just like there was no doubt in his mind that it wouldn't work. It couldn't, because they'd spent almost four days together and they hadn't come up with a solution to their biggest problem.
He knew Nick wanted to stay together, but as far as Nick was concerned that meant Greg giving in and moving back to Vegas. And he could keep saying he believed Greg when he said he wasn't going to change his mind, but they both knew it was a lie. Nick was just waiting him out, waiting for Greg to give in and turn his whole life on end again just to make Nick happy.
There was a part of him that wanted to give in. It made sense -- they'd met in Vegas, Nick's career was there and Greg could find another job if he went back. There was always the University of Nevada, and once or twice when things were slow at work he'd caught himself surfing the job openings on the UNLV web site. As soon as he realized what he was doing he made himself stop, reminded himself of all the reasons he'd moved back to California and why it was a bad idea to go running back to Nick.
It was flattering, knowing how much Nick wanted him, and when he kissed Greg and said 'I love you' it was hard to remember why he wasn't giving in. Even harder was stopping himself from asking Nick to stay when they got to the airport, telling him to forget Vegas and his job and stay with Greg. If they could make it work they could make it work anywhere, but he knew the answer he'd get if he asked. And maybe that made him a coward, but he didn't want to hear Nick say no. He didn't want to hear the lame excuses about Nick's career or the promotion he'd put in for, he didn't want to listen to Nick call Vegas 'home' or try to justify why his job was more important than Greg.
And that was what it came down to in the end -- he'd be giving Nick a choice, and he knew exactly what Nick would choose. Love...love was one thing, but Nick had put his career first since the moment Greg met him, and he knew that wasn't going to change because of him. He could have said 'I love you' and 'don't leave' and a hundred other things that would have left him feeling needy and pathetic, but in the end Nick would have left anyway, and Greg would have regretted every single word.
So he'd kept his mouth shut and let Nick kiss him goodbye, and he hadn't gone after Nick when he got out of Greg's car and walked into the airport. He'd even managed to smile and wave when Nick stopped to look back at him, and if it looked like maybe Nick was waiting for Greg to stop him, it only lasted a second before Nick turned and walked away. By the time he was back on the highway he'd almost managed to convince himself he'd imagined it, and by the time he was back in his apartment he knew what he had to do.
It wasn't what he wanted. It wasn't what either of them wanted; he knew exactly how Nick was going to react, and just the thought of never touching Nick again was almost enough to make him change his mind. If he just hung in there for a little while, just pretended he really believed they could make a long-distance relationship work...but all that would buy him was a little more time, another weekend or two of Nick in his bed and every time Nick went home they'd be right back where they started from.
And maybe if he'd never left Vegas casual sex with Nick would have been enough, but he wasn't in Vegas anymore and the two weekends they'd spent together so far were way more intense than he'd ever expected. He'd never expected Nick Stokes to fall in love with him, though, no more than he'd expected to fall in love with Nick.
So it was better this way, because making a clean break now meant they could both go back to their lives without any unrealistic expectations for some future that was never going to happen. He believed that -- mostly -- but his heart was still in his throat as he waited for the phone to ring, and when it finally did he had to force himself to pick up the receiver. "Hello?"
"Hey."
He could hear the smile in Nick's voice, sending warmth straight to the pit of his stomach and God, he was never going to be able to do this. Only he had to, because he knew Nick wouldn't. "Hey. How was your flight?"
"Beats me," Nick answered, his voice low and intimate in Greg's ear, and if he closed his eyes he knew he'd be able to feel Nick's breath on his skin. "I slept through pretty much the whole thing."
It was strange how easily he could picture Nick on the other end of the line, his bag probably still sitting just inside his front door and his shirt wrinkled from sleeping on the plane. He knew Nick better than he ever thought he would -- better than he wanted to, because it made starting this conversation a lot harder than it should be. All he had to do was tell Nick it was over, that he'd thought about it and it wasn't going to work, and that would be it. He knew Nick would be mad, but eventually he'd get over it and when he did, he'd see that Greg was right.
"You're working tonight?" he said instead, rolling his eyes at himself at the stupid question. He already knew Nick was working tonight -- if he wasn't on tonight he wouldn't have left L.A. until Tuesday.
"Yeah," Nick answered, "but I've got a couple hours before I have to be at the lab. Enough time for a shower and maybe a quick nap."
And picturing Nick asleep in his own bed wasn't helping at all, especially when Greg knew exactly why Nick was so tired. He could still feel it in his own stiff muscles, still remember the glide of Nick's hands on his skin and his mouth pressed hard against Greg's. It would be a long time before he forgot any of it, but wanting Nick didn't change the fact that they didn't have a future.
"Look, Nick," he said, forcing the words out before he had a chance to change his mind. He needed to do this now, because if he let it go -- if he told himself Nick needed to get some rest and put it off until later -- the chances were he'd never do it at all. "We need to talk."
He could almost see Nick tense on the other end of the line, the sharp, barely audible intake of breath and the sudden change in Nick's voice telling him everything he needed to know. "About what?"
"About this. Us. Whatever we're doing."
"I thought we already settled all that," Nick said, defensive now, and Greg swallowed the swell of guilt. But Nick wasn't stupid, and no matter how good he was at denial he had to know this was coming eventually.
"We didn't settle anything," Greg answered, fighting to keep the exasperation from creeping into his voice. He knew it would just start an argument, and he wanted to get this out before they started yelling at each other. "Come on, Nick, you know this can't work."
"What are you talking about? Just a few hours ago you seemed to think it could work just fine."
"Yeah, well, I've had some time to think about it."
"Four hours. I've been gone four hours and you decided our whole relationship is a wash? Do I even get a say in this?"
And now he wasn't even trying to stay calm, because Nick was already angry and part of Greg resented having to be the one to be realistic about the situation. "Jesus, Nick, what do you want me to do? Wait around until you get tired of using all your vacation time to come out here? You're still expecting me to change my mind and go running back to Vegas."
"You're right." Nick had never been any good at hiding his emotions, and Greg could hear all the anger and confusion in his voice. He didn't want to listen anymore -- he didn't want to hear it and know he'd put that hurt there. He didn't want any of this, not the memories or the knowledge of what could have been if he'd just stayed in Vegas a few more months. "You're right, I want you back here. Can you blame me? You haven't given me one good reason why you won't think about it. I love you, G, and I know you love me too. So what's the problem?"
The problem was that Nick kept saying he was willing to do anything, but never once had he even considered giving up his job to be with Greg. It was a lot to ask, but Nick had been asking him to do the exact same thing for months, and he didn't seem to think it was too much to hope for. Greg couldn't bring himself to say any of that to Nick, though, because if he did and Nick agreed he'd never know if Nick was there because he wanted to be or if he'd just felt like he owed it to Greg.
He wanted too much -- he wanted everything Nick wanted and more, and he was terrified to ask for any of it because he already knew what the answer would be.
"Look," he said, working hard to keep his voice even, "we had a good time and we both got what we wanted. So let's just...save ourselves the complications."
"The complications." Nick laughed, bitter and mirthless and Greg swallowed a fresh rush of regret. "Maybe you got what you wanted, but I sure as hell didn't. What the hell have we been doing here?"
"Getting it out of our systems." And he'd expected this to be hard, but he'd never expected it to physically hurt to say the words. "Look, Nick, I'm sorry..."
"Don't," Nick interrupted, his voice thicker now and colder than Greg had ever heard it. "Don't try to pretend this was just sex because you're too much of a coward to deal with it."
"I'm not a coward," Greg shot back, anger flaring up to edge out the guilt that had settled heavy in his chest. "I'm trying to be realistic here."
"You keep telling yourself that, G. Maybe someday you'll even believe it."
A second later the line clicked and Greg's heart plummeted into his stomach. He wasn't surprised that Nick hung up on him -- it was a lot better than some of the endings he'd dreamed up to this particular conversation. It was over, and that was the important thing, because it didn't matter what Nick wanted or even what he wanted. The point was that they wanted the same thing, but they wanted it on different terms, and he couldn't just ignore it and pretend it would all work itself out eventually. Maybe Nick could live that way, but Greg didn't even want to try.
For days Nick was so angry he couldn't even think about Greg without wanting to break something. He managed to keep his temper mostly in check at work by focusing on the job, but his house was a different story. There were a few broken dishes and a new hole in the wall of his bedroom to remind him of just how much this was affecting him, and if he didn't find a way to get past it soon he was going to have to start eating off plastic.
Every morning when he got home he picked up the phone, then slammed it back down again when he realized what he was doing. He wasn't going to call Greg and beg him to come back. He wasn't going to keep banging his head against the same brick wall; Greg had made it pretty clear that he didn't even want to try, and if that was how he felt Nick wasn't going to try to change his mind. There was no point, because Greg was just as stubborn as Nick when he wanted to be, and it was pretty obvious that he'd made up his mind about this.
So he didn't want to move back to Vegas. Nick could deal with that -- he didn't like it, but he wasn't going to force Greg to do something he didn't want to do. There were other options, things he'd just started to think through when Greg called and told him it was over. At the time he'd been so blindsided by Greg's determination that he hadn't brought up any of the alternatives he'd thought of so far, and now...now he wasn't sure it was worth trying.
Maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe he should have taken the hint when Greg never said a word about how he felt. He let Nick talk as much as he wanted, but he never said anything back and that probably should have been a clue that he wasn't in it for the long haul. Maybe it really was just sex for him, but even as he thought it Nick knew it wasn't true. He'd been there when Greg kissed him, seen the look in his eyes when he pulled Nick close and all the words he was holding back when Nick kissed him one last time in his car.
Greg wanted this, maybe just as much as Nick did, but he pushed Nick away anyway and that was the part Nick didn't understand. It didn't make any sense, because if they loved each other they should be able to find a way to make it work. He couldn't make it work on his own, though, and if Greg wouldn't even admit that he wanted this then Nick wasn't sure what else to do.
He reached the break room and pushed the door open too hard, letting it swing shut behind him as he made his way to the coffee pot and grabbed a cup, stopping just short of crushing the paper in his grip. And even the coffee was all wrong now that Greg wasn't around anymore -- Nick had just spent three days drinking Greg's expensive coffee, and he'd nearly forgotten how much he liked it until he had to come back to the Folgers provided by the county.
"Okay, what gives?"
He started at the sound of Catherine's voice, glancing over his shoulder and noticing for the first time that he wasn't alone in the room. She was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in front of her and some case files stacked next to it. She wasn't working on the files, though -- in fact, she was leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest, watching Nick as though she was waiting for him to explode. "What?"
"Come on, Nick. Everybody knows where you went last weekend, and it's pretty obvious from the way you've been storming around here that it didn't go the way you were hoping. You want to talk about it?"
And sometimes he hated being such an open book, because it meant he couldn't keep anything from the people who saw him every day. Most of them knew better than to ask him about it, but Catherine wasn't just anybody. She had a bad habit of calling him on his moods, and he knew she wasn't going to let it go until he told her something.
"Not really," he answered, taking a sip of weak coffee and cringing before he put the cup down on the counter next to him.
Catherine sighed and shook her head, just looking at him for a few long moments before she spoke again. "Well you better talk to somebody, because it's starting to affect your job, and that affects me."
He wanted to laugh at that, because it just figured she'd find a way to make this about her. If it wasn't for her and that stupid exploding sample...but he wasn't going down that road again, because it never got him anywhere. "You don't want to hear it, trust me."
"Try me."
It was no secret around the lab that he and Greg were involved; most people talked about it behind his back, but he knew the word had spread a long time ago. Catherine was the only one who'd ever asked him about it directly, though, and if she wanted to know maybe telling her wouldn't hurt. At least he'd be able to say it out loud, maybe work out some of it so he wouldn't feel the need to go home and start breaking furniture. "Okay. The trip was fine -- more than fine, it was great. Then I got back and called Greg and he broke it off."
"He waited until you got home to break up with you?"
"Yeah," Nick answered, letting out a mirthless chuckle at her expression. "He couldn't do it to my face, he knew I'd just talk him out of it."
"So why didn't you talk him out of it over the phone?"
Nick shrugged and picked up his coffee again, lifting the cup all the way to his lips before he remembered and set it back down again. "Because I was mad. I wasn't thinking straight, I guess. He's just so damn stubborn. You know he won't even think about coming back here? When I ask why he won't give me a straight answer, but he thinks that means there's no hope for us."
The shock in her features faded into something a little too close to pity for Nick's comfort. "I hate to say it, but he's got a point. If neither of you is willing to budge...I've never done the long distance thing, but I hear it's not much fun."
"I told him I'd do whatever it takes," Nick answered a little too emphatically. When he heard the sound of his own voice he sighed, reminding himself he wasn't arguing with Greg. He didn't have to convince Catherine of anything, and yelling at her about it wasn't going to do any good. "He won't tell me what he wants me to do."
"Wow. I mean I knew you and Greg were..." She trailed off and gestured vaguely in his direction, and Nick tried to ignore the surge of anger that came along with the fact that she couldn't bring herself to say the words. Catherine was the last person he ever expected to be shy about sex, but they'd never talked about him and another guy before. "I didn't know it had gotten serious enough for you to be thinking about moving in together. That is what you're talking about, right? Greg moving back here to live with you?"
He shrugged, suddenly self-conscious about telling anybody but Greg how he felt. "That's one option, yeah, but it's not the only one."
She wasn't trying to hide her surprise; Nick didn't really expect her to, because he'd known Catherine long enough to know she'd speak her mind even if it wasn't any of her business. Still, she seemed more surprised that Nick could actually be serious about somebody than that he was serious about Greg in particular. It shouldn't have made him feel better, but for some reason it did.
"Are you thinking about leaving Vegas?"
"No," he answered automatically. It wasn't entirely true; he'd considered the possibility, but Greg hadn't asked him to move to L.A. and there was a part of Nick that was afraid that meant Greg didn't want him there. He hadn't brought it up while they were together because he hadn't wanted to make Greg feel obligated to say yes, but now he was starting to think that was a mistake. Maybe if Greg knew exactly how serious he was...but it was too late for that now. "Even if I was, it doesn't matter anymore. He made it pretty clear that it's over."
"That doesn't sound like the Greg I know."
"What are you talking about?"
Catherine shrugged and stood up, picking up her coffee cup and tossing it in the trash before she turned back to Nick. "Look, I only know what I saw while he was still working here, but it was pretty obvious even back then that he had it bad. The way he watched you during meetings, the way he always came up with information to help out with your cases first...he's not the kind of guy who just gives up. If he was he would have given up on you a year ago."
"Yeah, well, he's changed a lot since the accident."
"Maybe." She picked up her files and crossed to the door, pausing when she reached it and glancing back at him. "But maybe he just needs to hear just how far you're willing to go."
"I told him..."
"I know what you told him, Nick. Some people just need to be hit over the head with it, you know?"
One last smile and she was gone, leaving him alone with a cup of cold coffee and a hard knot in the pit of his stomach. It seemed now that he was the last person to notice that Greg had feelings for him, and if he'd missed something as big as that, maybe he was missing something else important. Maybe she was right and he should have told Greg exactly how far he was willing to go to make sure they had a shot...but Greg had made up his mind, and Nick knew it would take something huge to change it.
He still wasn't sure how he'd gotten to this point. Just a few months ago his life had been pretty much perfect -- great job, lots of friends and his own place in the biggest party city in the country. Living in Vegas had been fun for awhile, but he didn't really regret giving any of it up, and if it wasn't for Nick he probably would have stopped thinking about it a long time ago.
A few nights with Nick shouldn't have changed anything. A few well-chosen words and some really good sex shouldn't have been enough to make it impossible to forget, but three weeks later he was still thinking about it. He thought about it all the time, and he still hadn't figured out what he regretted more: ending it, or ever starting it in the first place. If he'd known what it would be like with Nick...but if he'd known there was no way he would have been able to say no, even if he'd known how it would end.
It wasn't the first time he'd ever screwed up a relationship. It wasn't even the worst mess he'd ever made, but it felt like it, and he had a feeling that had something to do with how much he still wanted Nick. Regret didn't even begin to cover it -- this was a constant weight in the center of his chest, a knot in his stomach and a trembling in his hands that he'd thought he was finally done with.
He was a mess, and even though nobody had said anything yet he knew it was coming. He'd broken a couple test tubes in the lab, and every time he went home his mother gave him that look that let him know she was worried but she didn't want to say anything. She'd stopped asking him about Nick a couple weeks ago -- at first he was relieved, but it turned out that never even hearing his name was even harder than having to come up with new and increasingly vague answers for why they weren't talking.
That was why he was here tonight, sitting in a dark, noisy club with Steve on one side of him and some guy from the Sociology Department on the other. If he'd known when Steve said 'hey, let's go grab a beer after work' that he meant 'I know this guy', Greg would have said no. He would have gone straight home to spend the night staring at the TV and telling himself he wasn't pining. It had become sort of a ritual, and he was mostly okay with it.
Steve had known him for a long time, though, so Greg didn't figure out he was actually on a date until they'd ordered a round of drinks and some guy he'd never seen before slid onto the chair next to him. And he was cute in a college professor kind of way, so maybe if Greg wasn't head over heels for somebody else he wouldn't have spent the whole night comparing this new guy to Nick. He wouldn't have found fault in the way the guy smiled or the sound of his laugh, he wouldn't have thought his clothes were too conservative and his hair just a little too long.
He might even have liked the guy if it wasn't for Nick...but that was starting to become a recurring theme, and he didn't know what to do about it. Killing Steve for blindsiding him was one option; he knew he wasn't much fun to be around lately, but it still bothered him that his friend assumed that just because the sociology professor was gay and Greg liked guys that they'd be perfect for each other. As far as he could tell that was the only thing they had in common -- granted, it was hard to make conversation in a noisy bar on a Thursday night, but so far the guy had spent most of the evening trading Stupid Freshman stories with Steve.
It made Greg feel more like a third wheel than a guy on a blind date. In fact, if he didn't know Steve was straight he'd think they were perfect for each other. So he didn't really feel all that guilty when he finished his second beer and stood up, dropping a few bills on the table before shouting an excuse over the bar noise and leaving Steve and his professor to their conversation.
He was barely out the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he swallowed a sigh and turned to face his friend. It didn't surprise him that Steve had followed him out of the bar, but the last thing he wanted to do was explain why he couldn't sit at that table for another minute. And Steve looked mad, but he didn't have a right to be. Greg hadn't asked to be set up -- he hadn't even agreed to the date in the first place.
"Greg, man, what gives? You don't just blow a guy off like that."
Greg rolled his eyes and reached into his pocket for his keys. "I'm not blowing anybody off. You asked him out, not me. Besides, you guys seem to be having a pretty good time without me."
"Come on, if you'd open your damn mouth I wouldn't have to hold up your end of the conversation. He's a nice guy, what's the problem?"
"The problem..." Greg trailed off, not bothering to check his frustrated sigh this time. "Look, just because he likes guys and I like guys doesn't mean we're meant for each other. I'm sure he's great, but I'm just not interested."
"This is about that guy in Vegas, isn't it?" Steve shook his head when Greg opened his mouth to argue. "Man, why didn't you just tell me you were serious about the guy? I thought you said it was practically over."
"It's complicated," Greg answered, but he didn't need to see Steve's frown to know how lame that sounded. There was no way to explain this thing with Nick to an outsider, though, not when Greg didn't really understand it himself. "Look, I'm sorry about...what's his name?"
"Eric," Steve said, his features finally relaxing into a grin. "Don't worry about it, I'll think of something to tell him. But seriously, what's the deal with this mystery guy of yours?"
"There's no deal. It's over," Greg said, ignoring the way his throat tightened around the words. "It has been for awhile."
"Yeah, right. Don't bullshit me, man, I've known you too long."
"I'm not. There's really nothing to tell." It wasn't exactly true, but he wasn't going to stand on the sidewalk outside some trendy college bar and pour out his heart to anybody, not even one of his oldest friends. He didn't want to talk about it -- he didn't even want to think about it, he just wanted to go home and forget this whole night had ever happened.
Whether Steve believed him or just figured out he wasn't getting an actual answer Greg didn't know, but he finally let Greg go with a promise to give him a call over the weekend. And he would have laughed at the fact that Steve was stuck on a date with a guy, but he felt too guilty about it to see the humor in the situation. He should have been able to get through a few drinks with the guy, even if he wasn't interested. But just sitting there knowing he was on a date -- sort of, anyway -- made him feel like he was betraying Nick.
And it was stupid, because he didn't owe Nick anything. They were over, he'd ended it and Nick had made it pretty clear that he didn't have any intention of trying to change Greg's mind. He hadn't called, hadn't even tried to get in touch with Greg even to see how he was doing. Not that Greg had really expected him to -- maybe he hoped, just a little, but he couldn't really expect Nick to come chasing after him. He probably wouldn't have, not if Nick had said to him the things he'd said to Nick. He didn't have a right to expect Nick to want him after that, didn't have a right to want to pick up the phone and call just to hear that voice one more time.
But Nick was supposed to love him, and if he really loved Greg like he said he did he wouldn't just stop because of a few words. He was probably still pissed, yeah, but Nick was a forgiving guy and eventually he'd get over it. He'd probably be glad to hear from Greg, just so he could gloat about the fact that he was right. All he'd had to do was sit back and wait for Greg to realize he couldn't live without Nick, that he didn't want to give up what they had even if it meant picking up and moving back to Vegas.
It wasn't the first time he'd thought about it, but it was the first time he'd really considered doing something about it. The question was what to do -- he could call Grissom and talk to him about a job, but his hands were still a problem and there was no way he could lie his way around that. There was still the University of Nevada; he'd read a couple job postings for lab techs in the Biology department -- it wasn't his specialty, but it was a job and it was in the right city. That still left him and Nick on opposite schedules, though, and he wasn't sure Nick would be willing to transfer to the day shift even if Greg moved back to Vegas.
By the time he'd walked the few blocks to his apartment he had the whole thing worked out, from quitting his job to breaking the news to his parents to the conditions Nick would have to agree to. His hand gripped his keys tight, the other in his pocket to stave off the worst of the shaking. And he grinned when he reached the sidewalk in front of his apartment building, because if this was a movie he'd walk up the stairs to find Nick waiting in front of his door. Only it wasn't a movie, and he was only a little disappointed to find nothing waiting for him but a flyer for some new restaurant down the street.
It wasn't until he'd let himself inside and turned the lights on that the reality of what he was thinking about started to sink in, and his stomach pitched a little as he slid his jacket off and dropped his keys on the kitchen counter. He had no idea what to do -- did he call Nick and say 'I'm an idiot' and 'you were right' and hope that Nick still wanted to hear it? Then again, it was all true, so even if Nick didn't want to hear it Greg needed to say it.
He reached for the phone and dialed Nick's number, fingers trembling against the receiver as he waited for the line to connect. When it finally did he heard Nick's voice, just a recording but close enough to the real thing to make Greg's heart skip a beat. He listened to the entire recording before he hung up without leaving a message. He was about to dial Nick's cell phone number when a loud knock on his door interrupted him, and he scowled and gripped the receiver as he crossed the living room and unlocked the door.
"Look, Steve..." he began as he pulled the door open, expecting to find his friend about to launch into one last effort to change his mind. Only it wasn't Steve standing in his doorway, one hand raised as though he was about to knock again, and Greg's hands shook so hard that it was all he could do to keep his grip on the phone. "Nick. What...what are you doing here?"
~
This was either the smartest or the dumbest thing Nick had ever done. Right now it was still a toss-up, and when the door opened and he found himself face to face with Greg he had to swallow against a fresh rush of panic. Greg looked just as shocked as Nick expected him to be, but he didn't look mad, and that was a start. "Can I come in?"
Greg nodded and stepped aside, pulling the door open wide and waiting for Nick to brush past him before he shut it again. And he'd never wanted to push someone up against the door and kiss him so much in his life, but he knew if he wanted a chance to fix this he had to do it right. That meant taking it slow, making Greg hear him out and hoping that when he was done Greg wouldn't kick him out again.
He'd been trying to convince himself that wasn't going to happen since he left Vegas, but there was still a small part of him that was terrified he'd misread the whole situation. He wasn't any good at this kind of thing -- he'd spent so many years putting his career above everything else that he wasn't sure he remembered how to put a relationship first. Just showing up at Greg's place was probably the worst thing he could have done, especially after the way they left things. Maybe he should have called, told Greg exactly how much he wanted this and let Greg decide if he was willing to try again.
But it was too late now, because he was standing in Greg's living room and Greg was looking at him like he was waiting for Nick to disappear into thin air. "Who's Steve?"
"What?"
"When you opened the door you called me Steve."
"Oh. He's nobody. Just a friend," Greg answered. "He...uh, he was trying to set me up with this guy. I thought he was here to try to convince me to change my mind."
And he didn't have a right to be jealous, but it was impossible to ignore the heat rising up his neck at the thought of Greg and some other guy. "What guy?"
"Nick. What are you doing here?"
He took a deep breath and told himself it didn't matter what Greg had been doing for the past few weeks -- what mattered was what Nick was about to say, and whether or not Greg would kick him out when he was done. "I've got an interview with the L.A. crime lab."
For a second Greg just looked at him like Nick was speaking a foreign language. He'd expected surprise, maybe a little confusion, so he told himself to be patient and wait out the shock. A few seconds ticked by, then a few more, and he was starting to wonder just how long this kind of shock was supposed to last when Greg finally spoke again.
"Wait...what?"
And okay, he'd expected that too, so he took a deep breath and launched into the speech he'd planned so carefully on the plane ride from Vegas. "I meant it when I said I'd do whatever it takes. I thought you knew that. I know I pushed you to come back to Vegas, but...look, am I wasting my time here?"
Suddenly he wished he'd called first, because three weeks was a long time. But Greg had said himself he wasn't ready to date again -- sort of, anyway -- and Nick wanted that to mean that he still wanted Nick. It was hard to tell from Greg's impassive stare what he was thinking, but when his hand twitched and he dropped the cordless phone he'd been holding Nick was moving before he realized what he was doing.
"Jesus, Greg," he murmured, catching Greg's hand in his and threading their fingers together. For a second Greg gripped his hand hard, then he shook his head, but he didn't try to pull away.
"I'm fine. It's stress-related, supposedly. It was better for awhile."
Nick knew what Greg wasn't saying -- he thought he did, anyway. When things were good between them, when Greg was settling into his new life and Nick wasn't pressuring him to make more changes he'd started to get better. But Nick kept pushing, and finally he pushed just a little too hard. He felt like he should apologize, like maybe he should be telling Greg he was sorry for ever calling him in the first place. He'd spent the past three weeks telling himself it wasn't too late, and until now he'd almost believed it.
"I'm sorry. If I'd known..." But he should have known -- he was trained to notice these things, and he should have seen the clues that were right in front of him. He didn't want to let go of Greg, not now and maybe not ever, but when Greg tugged at his hand Nick reluctantly released his grip.
"You'd really leave Vegas?" Greg asked, and when Nick heard the uncertainty in his voice he couldn't help hoping it meant what he thought it did.
"Yeah," Nick answered, his hands curled into fists to keep himself from reaching out again. "Anything, G. It's just a job."
A laugh escaped Greg's throat at that, high and a little startled. "Now there's something I bet nobody ever expected to hear you say."
Nick grinned, but the truth was that it really was just a job. Just like being a cop had been just a job -- one he loved, but he'd given it up to make his father happy. He could give up Clark County -- he could give up anything Greg asked him to -- because Greg made him happy, and that was more important than any job. "If L.A. County hires me I'll be doing the same job, just in a different place."
"So you're saying..."
And he would have laughed at the fact that Greg was going to make him spell it out, but Greg's smile was gone and he looked almost nervous about the answer. "I'm saying what I should have said a month ago. If you want to stay in California I'll sell my house and move out here, I'll get an apartment and we can take it slow if you want -- whatever, I just want this to work."
Until he said it out loud it didn't really hit him what he was offering, but as terrifying as it was to hand over his entire future, it was worth it if it meant a second chance. He'd never wanted anything -- anyone -- so much, and if it meant starting over in a new city that's what he'd do. He opened his mouth to tell Greg that, to lay all his cards on the table for the first time in his life, but before he got the words out Greg was moving forward, hands on his chest and a familiar mouth pressed against his.
Nick's lips parted automatically, tasting beer and mint and Greg for the first time in way too long. He swallowed against the tightness in his chest and wrapped his arms around Greg's waist, pulling him as close as he could get. When they parted again Nick's hands were under Greg's shirt, pressed flat against warm skin and moving in slow circles on Greg's back. He felt the scars under his fingers, the tiny shudders that ran through Greg's body when Nick touched each one in turn.
"When's your interview?"
"Tomorrow," Nick answered. "It's not a sure thing, but Grissom knows a guy in the L.A. office. And if this one doesn't work out..."
That was as far as he got before Greg was kissing him again, but Nick decided that the details could wait until later. When Greg murmured 'love you' against his mouth Nick stopped thinking at all, hands pushing Greg's shirt up his back as he pulled Greg in the direction of the bedroom. There would be plenty of time for talking later -- he didn't have to be back in Vegas until Saturday night, and once his interview was over he was planning to spend the next two days showing Greg exactly how much he'd missed him.
~
Greg pulled up in front of the one-story house, shielding his eyes against the sun as he turned off the car and got out. It was hard to believe that it was actually theirs -- that he was a homeowner -- but he'd listened to Nick's speeches about equity and investment property and pouring rent money down the drain so much that he finally gave in just to shut Nick up.
He wasn't sorry, because he would have lived in a tent if Nick asked him to, but he liked this house. He liked that it was theirs, with both their names on the mortgage in official-looking black ink. It was a commitment, and even though Greg didn't really need a piece of paper to convince himself that they were both serious, it still felt good to know it was there. He'd told Nick that once when Nick caught him staring at their copy of the mortgage papers, and the fact that Nick hadn't laughed at him made Greg fall in love all over again.
It seemed like he did that a lot -- definitely more than he'd ever admit -- and when he walked into the house and found Nick standing in the middle of the living room wearing a tool belt his heart actually stopped.
They'd gotten the house cheap because 'it needed TLC', according to the realtor, but until they actually moved in Greg had no idea that Nick really knew how to do any of this stuff. Like the French doors he was installing to separate the living room from the dining area -- he spent a lot of time talking about investments and resale value, but Greg had a feeling that Nick didn't have any more intention of ever budging from this house than Greg did. They were both commuting again in L.A. traffic, but it was worth it to come home to a quiet neighborhood in the hills where their neighbors weren't right on top of them.
"Hey," Nick said when he glanced up to find Greg watching him. "Come here for a second and give me a hand."
Greg dropped his backpack on the floor and crossed the room, holding the door in place while Nick secured the hinges to the wall. He had to keep his eyes on the floor so he wouldn't stare at Nick's arms and forget what he was supposed to be doing -- they didn't have time for that right now anyway, because they were supposed to be at his parents' house in just a little over an hour.
When Nick was done Greg let go of the door and let Nick pull him close, kissing him slowly before he reluctantly pulled away. "We've gotta get going if we don't want to be late."
The last thing he wanted to do was stop kissing Nick -- what he really wanted to do was start with the tool belt and slowly peel off everything Nick was wearing, but he knew if they blew off his parents' anniversary party he'd never hear the end of it.
"In a minute," Nick answered, his mouth trailing along Greg's jaw to the spot just under his ear that he knew drove Greg crazy. And he was playing dirty, but Greg fell for it anyway, letting out a low moan and tilting his head to give Nick better access.
"Nick..." He summoned up the last of his resolve and flattened his hands against Nick's chest, pushing just hard enough to slip out of his grip. "That's so not fair."
Nick just grinned, but he let Greg retreat to a safer distance. "You didn't say what you thought of the door."
"It looks great," Greg answered, his eyes never leaving Nick and his tool belt. If Nick noticed he didn't complain -- instead he reached down to unbuckle the leather belt, and Greg swallowed hard as he slid it off his hips.
"You want a shower before we go?"
It took him a few seconds to remember what Nick was talking about, but when he finally did he flushed and looked up again. "Depends."
"On what?"
"On whether you're coming with me."
Nick grinned and set his tool belt down, crossing the wooden floor he'd made Greg help him refinish and sliding his arms around Greg's waist. "I thought you said we didn't have time."
Greg shrugged and closed a hand around the front of Nick's shirt to tug him toward the master bedroom. "So we'll be a little late. My parents will understand."
***
Next story in series - Safe As Houses.
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