Title: Put Your Record On
By: it-glitters
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R
Summary: Post ep ficlet for the April 26th 2007 ep.

***

Greg sat down on the couch in the house that he and Nick shared, and let out a pitiful sigh as he opened his Corona Long Neck. Logic told him that it needed a lime, but he didn't feel like going to the kitchen and cutting one, so he just sat there and took a deep swig from the bottle. He needed something melancholy to match his mood.

He picked up the remote to his massive 300-disc changer and went immediately to disc 153. The first 150 discs were his, and the second were Nick's. And Greg knew that the third disc in Nick's side was Corinne Bailey Rae. Nice and slow. "Like A Star" flooded the room at a low level and Greg relaxed into the couch that they had splurged on six months after they had moved in together. More extravagant in cost then either of them would have bought when they were single, their combined contributions had eased the pain of the final price tag.

Greg closed his eyes and let himself drift as the song switched over to "Enchantment". He felt someone taking the beer from him, he opened his eyes to protest that he needed the beer, but he opened them to find that it was just Nick, forcing a lime wedge into the slim hole. He handed Greg his beer back and then sat on the couch with his own.

Nick let his head roll back and forth with the beat of the music. He took a swig of his beer, never looking directly at Greg. "You want to talk about it?"

Greg shook his head and leaned back until his head could hit the back of the couch and he could look up at the ceiling. He let out a gentle burp.

Nick grinned and went back to bopping along with the record, after he had put his arm over the back of the couch, letting his fingertips rest on Greg's shoulder. Maybe sometimes you feel afraid, but it's all right came out of the stereo, followed by her telling them to let their hair down. You're going to find yourself, somewhere, somehow.

By the time the chorus of "Put Your Record On" came on again, Nick was up, dancing around the room. Or, at least as much as Nick did. It was more a shimmy in one spot. Greg eyed him carefully.

"That's it, Moody Blues over there, you're coming over here." Nick wiggled his fingers.

"Can't," Greg protested. "The new songs too slow."

And it was, but Nick just skipped over it to "Trouble Sleeping" and pulled Greg to his chest.

"Fine." Greg just stood there and let Nick manually sway him from side to side.

"That'll never pass. Come on, no one's watching, just groove."

"Groove?" Greg couldn't hide the grin that was forming on his face. "Fine." He followed Nick in the personal square shuffle that he was currently engaged in, followed by occasionally shuffling around Nick's self-created box.

Nick grabbed Greg's hands and held them up, so that they were dancing facing each other. "You can't still be mad."

"I was never mad." The song ended and Greg kissed Nick on the cheek before turning the music off. "Thanks for the dance."

"OK," Nick said, sitting down on the couch again and picking his beer up again. "You weren't mad, but I come in here, you've got a Corona without lime, and you're listening to your 'Greg sad' record."

"For the record," Greg said pointing at Nick's chest, "That's your CD. And secondly, I lost something today."

"Lost something?"

"Yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

Greg sighed and slumped his shoulders. "The feminine mystique."

"As in the book?"

"Not the book, moron." Greg turned from him and took another long swallow of beer. "More like, ok, when we lost all that evidence in the wedding case, I saw into their world, and it wasn't as secret and scary I thought it was. It's like ours, only with more accoutrements."

Nick grimaced at the memory. "As much as I love bringing that up again, I think I got the worst of that case."

Greg laughed. "Yeah, your poor truck, dude. That and the fact that I made you suck my cock for like an hour because you got that girl's number."

Nick finally laughed. "And I have no idea, to this day, how you stayed hard for that long. I mean, I was pulling out all the stops."

"Will power. OK, that and I had totally cheated and jerked off before you started."

"Bastard. See if I ever suck your dick again."

"Oh, you will."

"Damn. You're right, I really will."

They grinned into their beers for a moment, both remembering their own versions of that case and the repercussions. Nick finally broke the silence. "So, what are you all melancholy about today?"

"Brothels."

"Hey, they provide a safe place for the working girls, they pay taxes. At least it's better than walking the streets." Nick had a brief flashback to Kristi, then pushed it out of his mind again. It was a road that he wouldn't go down again.

"No, more like they always seemed so glam, you know? Like back in the day, and the lovely lady of your choice comes back with you into your room…"

Nick glared over at him. "I thought I had banished every 1950's book from this house. You and your weird obsession."

"Back in the days of Old Vegas…"

"When it was run by the mob and a lot more people died," Nick pointed out.

"And they had that old fashioned sort of romance…"

"And you'd become a Lake Mead floater for living with another man," Nick countered.

Greg pondered it again. "At least the girls are safer in brothels."

***