Title: The First Reprieve
Author: High_Striker
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nick & Warrick
Summary: It's hard to cope when someone's discovered everything there is to know about you. It's even harder when you feel alone, and when you feel like nothing more than a stupid disappointment. But sometimes a friend can make all the difference in the world.
(Set during Season 2, approximately one week after the episode 'Stalker')
Warning: Spoilers for Stalker, m/m sex

There was no doubt about it. He would never be able to look at the simple, well kept abode the same way again. Even as he turns to look back at his car and the lawn he can still imagine the crime scene tape wrapped around the entire building. Seeing the new oak door made his stomach twist uncomfortably as he moved to ring the doorbell, his eyes immediately noticing the extra two locks on the door, and the sticker for an alarm system in the glass window just to the left.

It all felt so wrong, so guarded and unnatural. But, he supposed, that was life. He'd only been here a couple dozen times over the past few years, and it had easily become familiar to him. In fact he'd never felt so at home in a place that he didn't consider his own.

He jumped a bit when the door opened a few inches, the chain lock keeping it from moving any further.

"What do you want?" That throws him for a loop, because he's never heard any hostility in the Texan drawl ever directed at him before, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt.

But a second later the door closes, and then it opens enough for him to get inside. He barely made it past Nick before the door was shut again, all the locks being securely fastened once more, serving to make him feel even more uncomfortable. His eyes travel around the living room, and as his focus shifts to the newly replaced ceiling he can't help but wonder how his best friend can even imagine staying there.

The next obvious change is the fact that Nick's Texas A&M rug was rolled up and sitting against the wall, along with the pieces of a broken end table. It actually hurts to see it sitting there, waiting to be thrown out, especially when he knows how much value it actually had to Nick.

It's the sound of pen on paper that makes him turn around to watch Nick once more. His quirked eyebrow is wasted though, because whatever Nick is busy scribbling down on his notepad is enough to keep his attention. Instead of interrupting whatever it was Nick felt the need to be doing he made his way over to the ruined furniture to see just how bad the damage had been.

Only he was surprised to see a massive stack of books and several boxes stacked up behind the demolished items. Curiosity immediately got the best of him, and he started scanning over the titles, wondering when exactly Nick had decided he'd wanted to be an ornithologist. After scanning the first few books he looked towards his friend and finally noticed that the various bookshelves weren't nearly as full as they used to be.

Seeing that Nick was still completely immersed in his writing he took the chance to peek inside the box that was sitting atop of several larger ones. "What is all this stuff, man?"

"It's nothing, look I'm busy alright?" Nick's voice shoots back, the words harsh, and stopping him from actually concentrating on what's inside the box.

"Nothing? Nick-" Warrick pauses, staring at the unbelievably intricate figurine in his hand his eyes momentarily gazing down to the dozens of other figurines laying on top of a thick stack of papers.

"I was just getting rid of some junk, that okay with you?"

"Damn, bro, if you think this stuff is junk then I'd like to see what you think doesn't fall under that category." It's a slight attempt at humor, with the smallest bit of hope that it'll help ease Nick into a better mood. He glances over to his friend, and lets out a quiet sigh when he notices the man is still hunched over his desk writing furiously as if there's some sort of deadline he has to beat. After a few more seconds he lets his attention go back to the items in the box, and he can't help but wonder how much time had gone into the figurines.

That's when he sees the first sketch, and he decides that no matter how much time went into the figurine he's holding, then it must've taken ten times as long to complete this. It's not particularly large, but the extreme attention to every little detail makes it hard to keep his mouth closed. The little signature in the bottom corner is enough to confirm that it had been drawn by Nick. "Jesus, Nick- these are..."

"A waste of time." He turns abruptly, noting the change from anger to something that sounded far more like defeat.

"They're incredible." But the words don't seem to register in Nick's mind, and a second later he can tell the anger and frustration is back. Before he can even say anything else Nick takes one quick swing, successfully ripping the paper out of the thin notebook and crumpling it into a ball in one swift move. He throws it across the room almost as if the thing is on fire, and Warrick watches as it hits a large metal object on the coffee table before bouncing to the floor alongside what appear to be a few hundred more crumpled sheets of paper.

For the first time since he's arrived he notices that the metal box is actually a police scanner, and though it's on, the volume has been turned down so no sound is coming out. His concern is skyrocketing, as he tries his best not to think that Nick may be traveling down a path that'll lead him directly to the point Sara's life is at.

It soars even higher when he looks around him and notices that there are forensics textbooks lying on almost every surface in the living room, not to mention the pile Nick has stacked up on his desk. He walks over to the crumpled piece of paper, watching Nick start writing on another sheet out of the corner of his eye. "What are you doing, Nicky?"

Nick stiffens, which actually surprises Warrick because he hadn't thought it'd be possible for the man to tense up any more than he already was. And his curt answer is just as surprising.

"I'm growing up."

"What in the hell do you mean you're growing up?"

"I'm a joke, Warrick- a stupid fucking joke- don't you get that?" He's standing up now, only his tone changes as the next words come out, "Bet you didn't even know that of all the CSIs here in Vegas, I'm the only one who's never had a single paper published. That I'm the only one who has yet to present at a conference. And no matter how hard I try, I just can't write a fucking paper to save my own damn life."

Warrick can't get a thing past the lump in his throat. He's already thrown off by the mere fact that Nick has already dropped the 'f-bomb' twice when he isn't really sure if he's ever heard any actual swearing from the Texan before. And even that surprise isn't enough to cover just how self-deprecating his words are. His mind starts trying to reprocess events in the past; times when they've made fun of Nick, gave him a hard time. As more and more memories start popping up he wonders if they've been as cruel as he's starting to think. Because he's not so sure their view of Nick as humble and modest is quite right anymore.

If anything the man probably thinks he's a disappointment, and even worse that he possibly thinks that his life is one too. "Nick- you're not a joke-"

"Bullshit. Just ask Ecklie, or Grissom- hell you can ask anyone in my damn family. I'm... I'm sick of it- all of it..."

And then he sees it, sees how defeated Nick is, how beaten down physically and emotionally. In an instant he's holding his best friend in his arms, not willing to let go.

He feels safe, like nothing can go wrong. There's safety, comfort even, in the arms wrapped tightly around him, and he can't even remember the last time someone has given him a hug, though he suspects it was just before he left home for college. Another curse almost escapes, because he feels like the walls he's been spending years building are starting to fall back down.

The next thing he knows, Warrick is whispering into his ear, and he distantly recognizes that there's an apology in there for making fun of his hobbies, for making him feel like shit. Which makes him tense, because he doesn't want Warrick to be sorry, to feel guilty.

"I didn't mind you, actually... I was mad at Greg for it- I was kinda mad at Sara too, they made me feel like I was a joke... but- then you were laughing too, and I- I love it when you laugh." The words are out before he can even fully process what he's just said, and the moment that realization hits he starts berating himself for being so stupid. Now he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Warrick to pull back in disgust, maybe even place a few well aimed hits to his chest. It's happened before, and it really doesn't seem like too much of a stretch at the moment.

Especially if Warrick ever found out that Nick had been jealous of Lillie Ivers.

The silence is nearly deafening, and then Warrick pulls back, his piercing green eyes studying him. It's at that moment that Nick starts battling his own body, trying to maintain some control, especially over his libido.

Thoughts are racing through Warrick's mind, because he knows this is an opening for him to help Nick. It's his chance to tell the man he's perfect, to tell him he's the best friend anyone could ever ask for, that he's proud of him, and the list of what he should say keeps growing longer until he blurts out the one thing that he had definitely not planned on. "I like you."

Nick can't help but curse the man now, because he's just lost control. There's not a single thing he can do as his body pushes in closer to Warrick. Just before he takes the plunge their eyes meet, and he smiles ever so slightly before his lips latch onto Warrick's. Then he silently curses the fact that those arms are still latched around him; not because they're holding both their bodies so that they're practically molded into one person, but because he can't move his arms that have been successfully pinned to his sides.

Before he can even think of a way to rectify that little problem his world is literally turned upside down, where the only thing he can see is the tight fabric of Warrick's pants over his ass, or the floor. Which doesn't really leave him with an option as he uses his now freed arms to keep him from hitting anything as Warrick carries him towards the hall. The mere thought of being able to control himself is gone, because those hands are securely holding his hips, and he can't help but chuckle ever so lightly.

There's no doubt in either of their minds as to what's next. Nick's completely positive that the other man has to be feeling the hard-on pushing into his shoulder.

When Warrick's hands slowly start to lower then raise Nick's legs repeatedly he lets out a quiet moan, his hands seeking purchase on Warrick's waist. The moment that movement stops he can't help but let out a slight groan of frustration until his back hits the bed. From there it's all a messy tangle of limbs, and hands exploring and quickly trying to get rid of their clothes as they try to keep their lips attached to the other's skin at all times.

It isn't long before they've managed to shed the motley of clothing, both continuing their own little battle of dominance. Every few moments one would flip the other onto their back, all the while using everything they could for their advantage. After a few seconds the sheets were already long since pushed right off the bed in a heap.

Both men were panting lightly, when Warrick pushed Nick onto his back once more, rolling them over. He started leaving a trail of kisses down Nick's chest, silently admiring the tanned skin and the firm muscles.

Knowing that they weren't going to last much longer, Nick immediately reached for the nightstand, desperately trying to open the small drawer. Warrick didn't even need to ask what had caused Nick to let out a soft groan before he whispered, "It's okay, we'll improvise."

Before Nick had the chance to respond Warrick had started to slide his index finger into Nick's mouth, and that was all it took for Nick to take charge again. It was slightly clumsy, but both were too eager to even notice as Nick pushed back, and turned, while Warrick let himself fall onto his back.

Nick immediately focused solely on getting Warrick's finger as wet and covered with as much saliva as he could, and when the fingers pulled away he immediately straddled Warrick's hips before leaning forward. The second their lips met he slid one of his fingers inside of Nick, unable to hold back a smile as Nick moaned, neither one ending the kiss through it all.

Using his remaining free hand he guided Nick's hands to the headboard, before pushing his groin up off the bed, and wrapped his second hand around both their cocks just as he inserted a second finger. It was awhile before he got into a steady rhythm so that his strokes would match each thrust of his fingers.

When he let go of his own dick, Nick pulled up for a moment to see why one of the best things he'd ever felt in his life had stopped. It didn't last long when he felt Warrick's fingers tighten around his cock moving up and down his length as fast as he could. "Warrick- wait, I'm gonna-"

Except he didn't stop, "Trust me Nicky- just let go."

When he saw that Nick still didn't want it to end quite yet he redoubled his efforts. He looked up just in time to see Nick's grip on the headboard tighten, his knuckles turning white, his mouth wide open as he tried desperately to keep bringing enough oxygen into his body. And Warrick had never thought those brown eyes had ever looked more beautiful in his entire life.

He looked down just in time to see Nick's cock spasm ever so slightly while his hands kept working before the feeling of warm cum covered his hand and chest. "Just trust me, Nicky- it's not even close to over..." his voice trailed off as he took a deep breath of air, before wiping the cum from his hand onto his own dick, spreading it as far as he could before swiping up what had spilt onto his chest and adding that to the mix.

Nick moaned in protest when he pulled his fingers out. The man was nearly placid as he used both hands to guide Nick just where he wanted him.

Both cried out loudly when Warrick let go, allowing Nick's weight to impale the man on his cock. He couldn't help but chuckle breathlessly when he saw Nick's eyes widen ever so slightly as he finally realized that Warrick had planned this.

Once Warrick arched his back, trying to get as deep into Nick as possible, Nick managed to slide both legs beneath them, wrapping them tightly around Warrick's waist before he started to move himself up and down. Noticing that Nick was already hard once more, Warrick did his best to match Nick's own forceful rhythm.

It doesn't last too much longer before Warrick starts to feel that slight sensation building up. Not quite ready for it to be over he gingerly pushes forward, gingerly settling Nick onto his back, both legs still securely fastened around his waist. He leans forward, forcing Nick's legs even farther apart which elicits a loud moan, and he only stops when his body is pressed against the other's engorged cock.

This time around he starts slow, trying to bring Nick closer to orgasm while letting himself settle just enough to make this last a bit longer. It doesn't take much for him to begin speeding up, especially when Nick starts mumbling incoherently. Soon he's thrusting almost as hard as he can, using the baseboard of the bed for extra leverage.

Warrick doesn't even realize that he's moaning far more loudly than Nick, and even after he fills his entire body spasm from his release he keeps thrusting, until seconds later he feels the warm fluid spill out between them.

Nick's entire body slumps down, allowing himself to be absorbed by the mattress and his pillows. And, even though he wants nothing more than to collapse right next to his best friend, Warrick carefully pulls out, and eases himself off the bed. He can feel Nick's eyes following him as he grabs their underwear, and wipes himself off before ever so gently wiping Nick's own body so that they're relatively dry.

Warrick doesn't waste another second before grabbing the sheets off the floor and throwing them over Nick as he hurriedly climbs back onto the bed. Seconds later Nick's settling with his back against Warrick's chest, the feeling of those strong arms enough to let him drift off to sleep.

It's not long before the man's breathing evens out, as Warrick watches him, slowly tracing his fingers over the small scar on Nick's forehead. They haven't really solved any problems, but he hopes that he's on the right track.

Though it's harder than almost anything he's ever done he silently frees his arms from around Nick's still body before forcing himself to get out of the coziest, most comfortable bed he's ever been in. The clock shows he's been asleep for almost nine hours, and he stretches before heading out of the room.

Another two hours pass before he Nick finally makes his first appearance in the doorway. He pauses momentarily by the pile of demolished furniture before he turns his gaze back to Warrick.

"I put em back where they belong." He quickly nods his head towards the bookshelf, and smiles when he sees Nick's eyes go wide at the sight of all his bird books back in their proper resting places on the shelves. Nick stutters for a few moments before he decides to cut him off, "You aren't stupid, man- and you're definitely not a joke. Besides, I love it when you talk about birds, the way your eyes light up- how you smile. And I'm definitely interested in watching you make some of those figurines..."

Nick doesn't move, so Warrick takes the initiative and crosses the room, pulling Nick into his arms. "Thanks..." It's mumbled, but it's also the most honest 'thanks you' he's ever received.

"Anyone ever puts you down- just let me know, and I'll take em down. I... I care about you, man. Don't ever forget that, Okay?"

"Okay." Nick whispers against his chest. They both know what word Warrick meant when he said care, but at the moment neither one is quite ready to say the 'L' word out loud. Things aren't back to normal, they're not even okay, really, but they're getting there.

They still have each other, and, even more importantly, they both have hope.