Title: The Dating Ritual
Author:podga
Pairing: Nick/OMC, Gil/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters do not belong to me. I write and post for fun only.
Summary: Nick moves forward with Brian and re-examines a few moments with Grissom. Sequel to A Pretty Good Night.

Nick comes to realize that, unsatisfying and unfulfilling as his love life has been so far, there’s one part of the dating ritual that he’s been spared: making that first call to somebody you don’t know so well, and wanting to make a half-way good impression. Or, at the very least, not to come off sounding like a total idiot.

Telling Brian he’d call had been a knee-jerk reaction, his attempt to take control of the situation. It’s what he’s always done with women in the past, promise to call, then leave longer and longer intervals pass, until he finally stops calling at all. It’s not something he’s particularly proud of, but it works and he likes to think nobody ever got too attached. The difference is that in the past he’d been hoping to avoid involvement. Now? Now, he isn’t so sure. On the one hand this feels like what he’s been waiting for his entire life, a chance he doesn’t want to pass up. On the other hand, he’s scared of what lies around the corner. Terrified, actually. Making the call should be the least of his worries at this point, but he wishes with all heart that he’d let Brian continue taking the initiative.

He unclips his phone from his belt, puts in on the table in front of him and stares at it. Just the thought of picking it up and dialing Brian’s number makes his mouth go dry. And what is he supposed to say? Invite Brian out for dinner? A movie? A basketball game? Shit! He might not be sexually interested in women, but at least he knows what’s expected of him. This is unchartered territory.

“Are you waiting for it to ring or trying to make it levitate?”

He looks up to see Grissom looking at him quizzically and… he flushes. He feels the heat rise to his cheeks, even as he berates himself for losing his cool like this.

“Hey, Griss,” he says, hoping Grissom won’t notice anything out of the normal. “How’s your case coming? Any suspects yet?”

“Too many,” Grissom says, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He sits at the table across from Nick. “The problem is finding one where evidence, means, motive and opportunity all combine. If you and Sara are almost done with your 406, I’m going to pull one of you to help out.”

“I think we’re pretty much there. One of us should be enough to tie up the loose ends.”

Nick waits on tenterhooks as Grissom stares at him in apparent consideration. He hopes Grissom will pick him over Sara, but he’s not holding his breath. Grissom seems to trust her abilities more, and he certainly has more patience with her.

“You didn’t answer me,” Grissom says suddenly. “Are you expecting a call?”

“No. No, I’m not,” Nick says. Then something makes him add, “I’m supposed to be the one calling.”

Grissom takes a sip of coffee.

“A little late, isn’t it? Or maybe a little early?”

“Probably,” Nick agrees. He knows Brian isn’t on duty tonight, but if he’s anything like Nick, he probably maintains the same sleep schedule when he’s off, so he’s most likely still awake. And Nick wouldn’t be surprised if the party is still going strong.

“I always found answering machines helpful,” Grissom muses.

“Answering machines?”

Grissom holds an imaginary receiver to his head. “Sorry I missed you. Call me.” He stands up and smiles down at Nick. “With mobile phones the norm now, it’s harder to do, of course.”

Nick laughs. “Grissom, you surprise me. I always thought you’d take a more direct approach.”

Grissom is already headed out of the break room and he doesn’t respond to Nick’s comment. At the door, he turns back to look at Nick. “After you’ve made your call, go see Archie in the AV lab. I’ll ask Sara to wrap up on her own.”

The moment Grissom leaves the room, the butterflies start up in Nick’s stomach again. Just do it, he mutters to himself, and he picks up the phone and dials quickly before he loses his nerve. If he’s lucky, he’ll get Brian’s voicemail.

The phone seems to ring forever and there’s no voicemail. Nick mutters a curse. Then it strikes him that he can still use a variation of Grissom’s trick and he sends Brian an SMS: ‘Tried reaching you. Call me. NS’

 

As luck would have it, Brian calls him right as the whole team is sitting down to breakfast together.

“Stokes,” he says crisply, and he hears Brian chuckle.

“Not alone, eh?”

“No.”

“OK, I won’t keep you. Are we still on for tonight?”

“Sure.”

“You want to come over to my place around nine or so?”

“OK. See you then.”

Nick flips his phone closed and starts studying the menu, trying to ignore the sudden silence surrounding him. For the first time the obvious curiosity of his teammates seems to him intrusive rather than good-natured or natural. He suppresses an urge to lash out at them and tell them to mind their own business, and is perversely irritated that by not uttering a word, nobody is giving him the opportunity to do so.  He finally looks up from the menu and glares at them, daring them to say anything, until his eyes meet Grissom’s and what he sees in them makes him forget his anger. Because he could swear Grissom looks disappointed, but not in that impatient way that Nick usually seems to provoke in him, but rather as if something has hurt him. A split second later Grissom’s eyes narrow in a smile as Catherine leans over and whispers something in his ear, and Nick tells himself he must have imagined the whole thing.

 

“Hey, Nick. Come on in!”

Brian’s smile helps ease the tension that has been building in Nick since this morning, although his heart is still beating a lot faster than it normally would.

“Hey,” he says.

Brian’s home looks different tonight and Nick realizes that most of the furniture had been pushed out of the way yesterday. It now looks less like a bachelor’s concept of party central, and more like a home. Brian himself looks different as well, more relaxed in a short-sleeved T-shirt showing freckled forearms, low-riding jeans and bare feet.

“Are you working tonight?” Brian asks.

“No. You?”

“Yeah. Actually I wasn’t supposed to be, but there’s some stomach flu going around, and my sergeant called me in about an hour ago. I’ve got to punch in at eleven, so we’ve only got an hour and a half.”

“Oh.” Nick isn’t quite sure what to say or do. He stands with his hands shoved in his pockets, mimicking Brian’s stance.

“It might be more comfortable in the bedroom,” Brian says.

“What?”

“Or the couch, if you prefer. Although my mother’s coming to visit tomorrow evening, so I’d prefer not to risk staining the cover.”

“Wh- what?” Nick repeats, feeling a bit desperate, and Brian bursts out laughing.

“I’m kidding. You look so nervous standing there, like you’ve never done this before.”

Nick gazes at Brian helplessly, wanting to act cool, to say something to diffuse the situation, but he’s beyond words. He watches Brian’s expression slowly change in realization, and he swallows convulsively, waiting for whatever might come next.

“You haven’t, have you?”

Nick shakes his head.

“Fuck. What is this, some kind of experiment? A walk on the wild side?” Brian asks angrily. He takes a step closer to Nick, his gray eyes blazing. Suddenly he looks big and dangerous, even though he’s only an inch or so taller than Nick.

“No.”

“What then?”

Nick isn’t prepared to answer that. Instead he asks a question himself, one that has been puzzling him since Brian’s kiss yesterday.

“How did you know about me?”

Brian finally backs off. “I didn’t know for sure, not until you let me kiss you. But it wasn’t that hard to guess.”

“How?”

“You know cops talk a lot, right? And everybody pretty much shares the same opinion about you: everybody thinks you’re a great guy. Except, not so much with women, are you? You go out on a date with one, but then you never call her back. Just about the only reason you get away with it is that you don’t go out on dates that often, at least not with women in the LVPD, and you don’t kiss and tell. And I got to thinking, maybe you don’t kiss, period. At least, not women.”

Brian smiles humorlessly. “Not much to go on, right? I might not have seen it, if I didn’t do pretty much the same thing myself. Or if I hadn’t noticed you and hadn’t started paying attention when you were around or when your name was mentioned. So you don’t have to worry.”

Nick slumps tiredly against the door. “What now?”

“What do you mean?”

“We haven’t made a great start, have we? And you’re right, I’ve never done this before. But it’s not an experiment. It’s something I…” Nick pauses and swallows hard. “I don’t know the rituals.”

Brian frowns. “The rituals?”

“Dating guys. What to do. I have no idea.”

“Oh.” Brian tries to look serious, but his eyes have lightened and there’s a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “Well, I’m no expert myself, but I can tell you what I like in terms of rituals.”

“Okay.”

“No flowers.” Brian starts ticking off items on his fingers. “No opening doors for one another. No musicals. No candles. No bubble baths. No walking hand-in-hand. Did I mention no musicals?”

“What does that leave?” Nick asks, conscious that he’s being teased, but finding that he doesn’t really mind.

“Pizza. Beer.” Brian clasps Nick’s neck and pulls him against his body, winding his free arm around Nick’s waist. “And fucking. I like the fucking ritual a lot.”

“Sounds pretty simple,” Nick says.

Brian kisses him, a wet, hungry, open-mouthed kiss that arouses Nick as much as the feel of Brian’s hardening cock against his leg. “Oh, it is. Simple as pie. Nothing much to it at all,” Brian groans against Nick’s lips.

 

“How was your weekend?” Grissom asks idly as they’re driving out to their first crime scene of the night.

“Good.”

“Do anything special?”

“No. No, not really,” Nick lies as he unconsciously touches the spot on his shoulder, where Brian bit him a little too hard. “You?”

Grissom doesn’t respond. He’s looking out of the window, although there’s not much to see in the dark, and he seems to have lost interest in the conversation.

Under any other circumstances Nick would have been annoyed at Grissom’s dismissive behavior, but tonight he accepts it with relief. He needs time to think, to figure out how he feels about everything that’s happened between Brian and himself and everything that might happen in the future. He wishes it hadn’t all happened so fast, but on the other hand, why not? It’s what he’s been wanting since before he left Dallas, isn’t it? To satisfy himself, to live his own life. Except that it doesn’t feel as good as he’d expected it to. He thought he’d feel liberated somehow. Instead he feels more trapped than ever, because all the decisions still lie ahead of him, but there’s no going back any more either. His one and a half hours with Brian proved that conclusively.

“Did you ever make that call?”

“Huh?”

“In the break room.”

“Oh. No. I sent an SMS.” Nick is aware how close he came to saying ‘I sent him an SMS,’ and he feels a sense of despair he hasn’t felt in years. He can’t do this. He can’t add yet another layer of lies to his life.

“You said something in the break room, about expecting me to take a more direct approach. I’ve been thinking about that.”

“Yeah? And?” Nick asks a bit impatiently, when Grissom doesn’t continue.

“I’d say direct approaches don’t really leave you any alternative options, do they? It’s the equivalent of burning all your bridges behind you. Any soldier will tell you that’s a poor strategy, especially if you don’t know what lies ahead.”

“That’s almost tantamount to equating life to a constant battle.”

“Isn’t it?”

Nick is silent for a few miles, trying to think, but finding himself concentrating blankly on the sound of the tires on the asphalt.

“I guess so,” he says finally, acknowledging that it’s how he’s lived his own life ever since he was nine years old. “But it shouldn’t be. There should be peace, as well.”

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Grissom turn his head towards him.

“There is, Nick,” he says. “You just have to accept that sometimes things are what they are.”

Nick needs this conversation to end right now. Accept what? That he picked his path a long, long time ago and that it’s too late to change everything? Or that he can no longer stick to it and he has to make a choice that will end up hurting a lot of the people who love him? “I have no idea what that means,” he says harshly.

“I think you do,” Grissom says mildly.

“No. And it’s none of your goddamn business anyway.” His sudden outburst shocks Nick, probably more than it does Grissom. He stares straight into the darkness with burning eyes, impatient for the first sight of the crime scene.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Grissom says flatly.

 

 

They say nothing further to each other until they reach the crime scene and there all their interactions remain strictly focused on the job at hand. Grissom leaves earlier with Brass, so Nick makes the long drive back alone.

He smiles when he remembers Brian’s teasing him about dating rituals, but thoughts of Brian lead him back to the uncertainty of what he’s going to do next, which is something he doesn’t want to deal with any more tonight. He tries to distract himself by getting angry at Grissom and his behavior and his cryptic remarks, only it doesn’t quite work out the way he’d planned, because out of nowhere he remembers stroking Grissom’s hair, trying to make him feel better on Black Friday all those months ago. He remembers the feeling clearly, as if it were yesterday, and he realizes that for those few hours, he’d found the acceptance Grissom spoke of and even now he continues to feel the peace of that and it comforts him. Things will work out, he thinks in a sudden surge of optimism. He's not sure how, but they will.