Title: Seven Short Days
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 begins to wonder about Brian and about Grissom. Sequel to Of Heroes and Comics.

“Man, some weeks just seem longer than others, don’t they? This one feels like it lasted about three years.” Warrick slams the door of his locker with a loud metallic clang that makes Nick jump. “Wanna head out for some breakfast?”

“Nah, I’m beat. I think I’m just gonna go home.”

Warrick looks surprised for a split second, then nods smilingly, claps Nick on the shoulder and walks out of the locker room. Absurdly, Nick immediately feels lonely and wishes he’d accepted the invitation. He’s never refused before. In fact, he’s probably the only one who can always be counted on for breakfast, whether it’s the entire team or just part of it. No wonder Warrick was taken aback.

He heaves a sigh and finished tying his shoelaces. Unlike Warrick, he doesn’t feel like the past week was long; it seems to have flown by, and that it was only yesterday that Grissom sent him on the 406 behind Roy’s. Seven short days. Maybe the most important in his life, although so far he’s tried to just go with the flow and not think about anything too much. Just stay focused on the here and now, live in the present. Tomorrow, next year, they don’t matter.

But it’s all catching up with him and he needs to get home and be on his own for a while. Process how he feels, figure out what’s going on, where it might all lead to and what he’s going to do about it. Try and make sense of it all. He stands up. Home. Breakfast. Sleep. Time enough for the rest afterwards.

 

 

The ringing of his mobile drags him out of a deep, dreamless sleep. Keeping his eyes closed, he fumbles for it blindly and puts it to his ear.

“Stokes,” he mumbles.

“Hey, what’s up?” he hears Brian’s cheerful voice and, still half-asleep, doesn’t control his reaction, doesn’t even know it’s coming until he says the words.

“Aw, shit.”

“Well, hello to you to,” Brian says breezily. “Did I wake you or something?”

 “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“So you’re in bed?”

Despite himself, Nick grins at the suggestive tone in Brian’s voice. Nobody can deny that the guy has a one-track mind. “That’s where I do most of my sleeping,” he says.

“Want me to come over?”

No, he thinks, but that’s not quite true. He does want Brian to come over. He just doesn’t want sex, but he doubts Brian is looking for simple companionship for a couple of hours.

“I’m kinda beat,” he says carefully.

There’s a pause. Nick can hear the faint sound of traffic and music in the background. The tune is mellow and sad, not like anything he’d imagine Brian would choose.

“What are you listening to?” he asks.

“Huh? I don’t know, just some junk on the radio,” Brian answers. There’s another pause and Nick can feel himself slipping back into sleep.

“Nick. Why don’t you ever invite me to your place?”

Nick snaps awake at the question. Brian’s tone is offhand, almost disinterested, but there’s a feeling underneath that Nick thinks he recognizes, because he’s experienced it so often himself, when something is important, even though he doesn’t want it to be.

“It’s only been a week,” he prevaricates, but Brian is right. Nick hasn’t invited him to his house. In fact, other than that first call, and even then Brian ended up taking the initiative, Nick hasn’t called Brian unless it was to respond to a message on his voicemail.

“Right.”

Nick doesn’t know if it’s the thought of Brian sitting alone in a car somewhere in traffic, or the song that he now recognizes as “Cry on Shoulder of the Road” and which he knows, absolutely and one hundred percent, isn’t ‘just some junk on the radio’ that Brian happened to be listening to, that make his resistance crumble away and instead of any other answer, he gives Brian his address.

“You know where that is, right?” he asks.

“Hey, I’m LVPD. I know these things,” Brian responds, his voice cocky, but there’s still that something else underneath.

“How long before you show up?”

“Ummm. Ten minutes? Maybe fifteen? What does it matter, man, it’s not like I’m expecting you to clean the house for me.”

“You have no idea where I live, do you?” Nick asks smiling, relieved to hear Brian almost back to his normal self.

“Fuck you,” Brian says cheerfully and hangs up.

 

 

Nick gets up to go to the bathroom, careful not to wake Brian up. When he’s finished, he doesn’t return to bed, but stands at the door, studying the man in his bed, not really knowing if the thrill he feels in the pit of his stomach is anticipation or fear.

Until a couple of hours ago, there had been no doubt in Nick’s mind as to what Brian was offering. If it was complicated in any way, that was due to Nick, his inexperience, his baggage. Now he’s starting to wonder if he misinterpreted the entire situation, and Brian along with it, from the get-go. He recalls Brian’s awkwardness when issuing that first invitation, his checking to ensure that whatever happened between them stayed that way, his sudden anger when he thought Nick was only experimenting. Nick stayed on the surface, on Brian’s casual attitude, on his cheerful admittance that he liked sex, on his almost obsessive avoidance of anything that could be half-way construed as romantic.

And yet… Brian was also the one to call every single day in an effort to get them together, and it’s certainly not because Nick is all that good in bed. Hell, half the time he doesn’t even know what he’s doing yet. And if Brian isn’t exactly touchy-feely or tender or interested in everything Nick says, maybe that says more about Nick’s expectations than about Brian’s feelings or intentions. When he thinks about it, he realizes that it’s not only going to be the sex that’s different in a relationship with a guy, and that he’s been a bit too conditioned by dating women for so many years.

Which begs the question if he really wants a relationship with a guy. With this guy.

“What are you doing up?” Brian’s voice is thick with sleep. “Come back to bed.”

Nick walks slowly to the bed and climbs back in, instantly relaxing in the warmth as he focuses once again on the immediate present. Ignoring everything else is easier when he’s not alone with his thoughts. He realizes he’s forgotten to turn off the bathroom light and groans, and starts to get up again.

“Where are you going?” Brian’s warm palm cups his shoulder.

“Light,” Nick grunts.

Brian slides his hand further along Nick’s back, looping his arm around Nick and pulling him against him.

“Leave it,” he whispers. “I like to see what I’m doing.”

 

 

Nick keeps his eyes closed and listens to the rustling of clothes as Brian tries to dress quietly. It’s not that he doesn’t want to acknowledge Brian’s departure, he’s just too comfortable as he is right now, and he doesn’t want to let go of the mood. Then he hears a yelp of pain, followed by low cursing, and he can’t pretend to be asleep anymore.

“What happened?”

“Stubbed my toe.”

“Why don’t you turn on another light?”

The mattress sinks as Brian sits down. “I’m almost done anyway.” He bends over and kisses Nick. “What are you doing later?”

“Probably sleep a little more. And I’m getting that Luna cable package installed today.”

“One hundred and fifffty channels, allll sports, allll the time!” Brian exclaims, mimicking the enthusiastic voice of TV commercial announcer. “It’s just a rip-off, man. Mark my words, it’ll end up being things like synchronized diving and women’s soccer. Or worse.”

Nick grins. “Well, you don’t have to come and watch, then.”

Brian stands up and shrugs on his jacket. “Nah, I figure you’ll need something to distract and comfort you when you realize you’re spending that much money just to watch golf.” He pauses at the door. “Call me later if you feel like doing something.”

“Okay,” Nick agrees.

 He hears the outside door slam shut and he rolls onto his stomach, burrowing into the pillow. He half-heartedly tries to pick up the thread of his earlier thoughts about where all this is going and about the future, but he’s too sleepy.

 

 

“Hey, Griss, how was your weekend?”

Grissom looks up briefly from a file. “Fine, thank you.”

Nick sits at the meeting table. There’s no sign of the rest of the team yet, and Grissom has returned to his reading, so he sits in silence, his hands clasped together and resting on the table.

“Stop jiggling,” Grissom says suddenly.

“What?” Nick realizes he’s been bouncing his knee against the table leg and he stops. “Sorry.”

Grissom nods and flips over a page. Nick’s eyes wander around the room, looking for something to divert his attention, but he ends up staring at Grissom.

About a year ago, someone had started a list about what Grissom was most likely to do for fun. They all knew about the roller coasters, of course, and from time to time other details emerged, like cockroach racing or poker, but nobody was quite sure what was true and what wasn’t, because it didn’t all seem to tie together. The list would disappear and reappear at odd times. Nick was pretty sure that nobody on Grissom’s team had ever actively contributed to it, and that Greg was most probably responsible. At some level it bothered him, more because he thought that Grissom would hate the intrusion into his privacy if he knew about it, rather than because he felt the list was mean-spirited in any way. Still, it intrigued him: what did Grissom do on weekends?

“Did you catch any of the coverage from Salt Lake?”

“Ice hockey final,” Grissom responds absent-mindedly.

“Yeah? What did you think?”

Grissom looks up at him as if he doesn’t understand the question.

“I watched it on cable,” Nick continues determinedly, aware that he’s quickly starting to sound like a complete geek. “I got that new sports package from Luna Cable.”

“A hundred and fifty channels? I heard about that. Sounds like a rip-off,” Grissom says dismissively, unknowingly echoing Brian’s words.

“Well, it’s not like they’re all transmitting all the time. I mean not original programming; they show repeats, as well. You can just watch what interests you.” Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic, no doubt about it. And how did he end up defending Luna, when this started out as him trying to figure out what Grissom does over the weekend? Plus Grissom is giving him that look again, like he doesn’t know whether to be disappointed or amused.

“Stop jiggling,” Grissom repeats, and Nick pulls his knee well away from the table and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest. In his head he starts pleading for someone, anyone, to walk into the meeting room. Where are they all, anyway? It’s not like them to be this late. He checks his watch and realizes with a sinking feeling that it’s he who’s too early.

“I’m going to get a cup of coffee before the others come. Do you want some?”

Grissom points to his half-full cup. “Thanks, anyway,” he says.

Nick nods and nearly bumps into Warrick on his way out. His relief at seeing his teammate is short-lived, because the first words out of Warrick’s mouth are to ask him about the cable package.

“I’m just on my way to get a cup of coffee before we start. I’ll tell you later,” he mumbles at Warrick, almost shoving him out of the way, and he could swear that that choking sound behind him is Grissom smothering a laugh. Well, fuck him anyway, Nick thinks in a sudden spurt of anger. Brian was right: other than as a boss, what Grissom thinks or feels is completely irrelevant. And come to think of it, he’s not that great a boss, either; they’ve just all been way too accommodating towards him.

They’re all there when he gets back into the room with his coffee, and Grissom is already handing out assignments. “Nick, you’re with me,” he ends.

“Great,” Nick mutters under his breath, a childish act that he can’t bring himself to feel even slightly ashamed about. He realizes it’s a little louder than he intended it, when not only Grissom’s head snaps up, but Catherine stops on her way out the door to turn around and gape at him, before hurrying out.

“Did you say something?” There’s an undercurrent of anger in Grissom’s flat tone.

“No.”

“OK. Good.” Grissom stalks out and Nick follows him.

Despite his earlier thoughts, deep down he knows that Grissom’s thoughts and feelings are not at all irrelevant, at least not to him. Even though they should be. And despite everything that’s happened, the last seven days are too short to cure him of that.