Title: Sweet and Sour
By: VicXntric
Pairing: Hodges/Nick
Summary: David Hodges knew the old Nick Stokes was in there somewhere. In the meantime, he could make do with what he had. Then things start going right, and that's when the real trouble begins.
Rating: NC-17"So all this stuff is only since his...since what happened to him?"
"Well..." Jacqui looked at their male breakfast companions before answering Wendy. "There had been talk before that he might be interested in guys, but no one ever knew for sure. As for the rest of it--"
David quickly finished off his coffee and pushed his plate aside. "You ladies sit here and dish. I'm heading home."
"Ladies?" Bobby looked affronted.
"Since when aren't you up for rumors and innuendo?" Jacqui wanted to know.
"I didn't think anyone said dish anymore," Wendy commented.
Smartasses. All of them. Nothing he couldn't handle though. "I'm not a slave to language trends," he told the newest tech. "Jacq, it's not rumor and innuendo after it's been discussed a couple dozen times, then it's just boring. Dawson, if you don't want to be called a lady, don't sit and dish with them." Smug that he'd managed to retort to all three people in one breath, David stood up, dropped enough money on the table to cover his part of the bill and even managed relatively polite goodbyes to everyone, all the while ignoring Bobby's pointed, knowing look.
That look didn't annoy him as much as it might have in other circumstances, David reflected as he got in his car, mostly because Bobby didn't know everything about the situation. He knew a lot, but definitely not everything. Not even the best part. Bobby knew that David didn't like hearing about the new and very active love life of one Nick Stokes, and Bobby knew that David Hodges had a thing for Nick Stokes. Bobby probably thought the two were related--that David got jealous when hearing about all of Nick's one night stands.
Which he didn't.
Get jealous, that is.
Not that jealous.
No, what bothered David the most about this sudden parade of partners was that Nick's actions were just...not Nick. Nick Stokes did not pick up a new guy every night, or if he did, he'd never been so obvious about it that people in the lab could discuss it. It was one of the reasons there hadn't been much surprise when his co-workers learned Nick preferred men--Nick hadn't been seen with any women, hadn't been seen with anyone, for a couple of years. Everyone assumed he saw people at some point, but Nick had always kept his private life private and never let it interfere with his work.
Technically, it still wasn't interfering with his work, although there were a couple of guys in other departments--guys who considered themselves players--who ended up a bit broken-hearted in Nick's wake. That also wasn't like Nick Stokes, but the general consensus was that Nick's behavior was that of a man happy to be alive and out to enjoy the life he almost lost. Because Nick remained the sunny, affable guy he always was when not on the prowl, most people just let it go, claiming it was an understandable reaction to the trauma.
That was usually the point when David chose to back out of the conversation rather than risk blurting out his opinion--an opinion that was probably absolutely right, but had been overlooked by everyone else. As far as David was concerned, Nick Stokes wasn't acting on his joy at being alive. He was reacting to the marriage of Warrick Brown.
Apparently, this possibility had gone over everyone's head--except David's. No one seemed to have noticed that it was only after Warrick's nuptials that Nick suddenly decided he was interested solely in one night stands, all the while growing more nervous in Warrick's presence. David had, though. David had noticed plenty. For more than a year before Nick's abduction, David had noticed that Nick smiled more if Warrick was around; that he was more likely to blush at Warrick's teasing than anyone else's; that he practically hung on Warrick's every word.
Unfortunately, there was no way for David to point this out to anyone without admitting that since his arrival in Las Vegas he had spent the majority of his time watching Nick whenever he could. If people knew that, then it could be speculated that--god help him--David Hodges was actually pining over Nick Stokes.
Which he wasn't, of course.
David Hodges didn't pine. Wasn't meant to pine.
Now, Nick...Nick was ideally suited to pining. Nick had big, brown eyes that could be soulful and heart-breaking when he thought no one was paying attention. He had a wide, dazzling smile that somehow still hinted at melancholy beneath. He could star in the instructional video "How to Be Beautiful While Pining."
David flicked a glance to the rear-view mirror. Flinty grey-blue eyes were not meant for pining, they were meant to freeze annoying people to the spot so David could verbally shred them. David's smile was more inclined to be smug and tinged with cynicism or bitterness, depending on what sort of day he was having.
So it was just as well that he didn't.
Pine, that is.
That was almost as stupid a word as dish.
"Hey, Dave--"
"David," David corrected, just as he always did when Bobby tried to shorten his name. But what could you expect from a grown man who let people call him Bobby?
Bobby ignored it, just as he always did. "I've got a couple of things for you. I need to know what the exact components of this gunpowder are--there's something else in there. And this residue off a bullet from Catherine's case isn't biological--hoping you can identify it."
"Add it to the pile," David nodded toward his inbox, then went back to preparing trace for the GCMS.
"And..."
"You said a couple," David told him without looking up. "A couple is two. You're done now."
"Jacqui had a few questions about you after you left yesterday."
"Hell." David started the machine, then gave Bobby his full attention. "What?"
"She wants to know if you're thinking about getting in line, is all."
"In line?"
"The one to Nick's bed."
"Dawson!" David hissed, looking around on pure reflex. Then he remembered what a busy night it was and that all the CSIs were still out in the field. "Do you mind?"
"No one's around. I checked." Bobby perched on the edge of a table and crossed his arms, settling himself comfortably. "Anyway, Jacqui thinks you might as well, if you want to."
There was no way he was going to dignify that with a response.
"Gideon thinks it would be a bad idea, though."
David rolled his eyes. Was that supposed to get a reaction out of him? Was he supposed to be surprised that Bobby had spilled all this to his partner of more than fifteen years the minute he got home? Or that Gideon had an opinion about the subject? Gideon had an opinion about everything.
"Actually, Gideon mentioned it would probably be a good idea for you to go out with anyone except Nick."
"QED," David muttered.
"Pardon?"
"Gideon has you, your daughter, two dogs and a job--how does the man have any time to worry about my love life?"
"He's a multitasker," Bobby grinned.
David shook his head, fighting not to return the grin. The printer began kicking out the results, and he turned to read them.
"So?"
"So what?" David asked absently, he thought--hoped--their conversation was over and was now wondering how many databases he'd have to search to get a brand name for the paint.
"So what are you going to do?"
It boggled the mind. Really. "How could that possibly be any of your business?"
"Fine." Bobby stood up. "Say, when are you going to come by for dinner again?"
"You mean when is Gideon going to get the chance to interrogate me again? Let me check my calendar."
"Thursday?" Bobby asked from the doorway.
"Sure," David decided to log onto Dupont first.
"Cool."
Then David was alone in his lab again. As he watched the computer scroll through various formulas, he considered how many times he'd been invited to a co-worker's home for dinner in Los Angeles. Easy enough. Never.
The Las Vegas Crime Lab had definitely been a wake-up call after the LAPD, especially if one worked Gil Grissom's graveyard shift. In LA, the precision David always prided himself on bringing to his job had earned him the labels of anal and picky, but it had also given him an identity in the lab. He was the guy who checked and double-checked and whose trace evidence wouldn't be broken down in court--he was also the snotty son of a bitch. In Vegas, checking, double-checking, triple-checking were the norm, and David even had to step things up a bit.
On the other side of the coin, sucking up was something of an art in Movie Town, and David had no problem kissing a little bureaucratic ass when necessary. Unfortunately, he was never able to bite back some of his more cutting remarks when confronted with blatant human stupidity, which usually cancelled his efforts and earned him the reputation of someone with a lousy attitude. Sucking up on Grissom's graveyard shift? Not a good idea. It had definitely been a surprise to learn that his co-workers were more tolerable of his sarcasm than his smarm. Simply put, most of the scientists in the Las Vegas Crime Lab were there to work in the country's No.2 lab, and they had no time to bother faking friendliness, admiration or anything else.
Truth to tell, David was glad to stop fawning over his superiors, although the habit had died hard. He'd gotten so used to doing it that sometimes he still sounded like a bootlicker even when he was completely sincere. He was being reminded more and more of his first job out of university, where he didn't have to suck up because there was no where to move up but he still enjoyed going to work every day. St. Peregrine's Infirmary in San Francisco had lousy wages, long hours and should have been depressing considering the majority of their patients were sex workers, but those years were some he now looked back on fondly--not the least because they had provided as much of an education as his degree.
Now, after more than a decade, he was finally in another job that made him feel the same way.
It was actually worth an interrogation or two.
But no one needed to know that.
"It's not showing up on any manufacturers in the database," David explained as he handed Nick the printout. "Either the twist doesn't match the strand rate or the fiber content doesn't match the twist."
Nick pursed his lips, "A custom-made string...well, cord. If we can identify it, it could be a big lead."
"I'll see about breaking down the components of the dye used. That might give you--" David stopped as Warrick strolled into the lab.
"Hey," Warrick nodded to them both. "Hodges, you get a chance to look at that glass from my arson?"
"It was actually two types of glass, a plastic, and something as yet unidentified," David said, stepped away to get a couple more printouts. "It's in mass-spec right now." He handed Warrick the papers with as much good grace as possible, because he really had no reason to be extra rude. Warrick had every right to be in the trace lab, and hadn't interrupted anything really important. It wasn't like David cherished those moments alone with Nick in his lab or anything.
"Cool," Warrick perched on the edge of the table to wait. "Hey," he bumped Nick with his elbow. "Tina says there's a couple of guys she works with that she wants you to meet. Says they aren't the kind you'd run into in the clubs."
Nick's laugh sounded awfully forced to David, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
"Yeah, that's what I told her," Warrick grinned. "That my boy Nicky's a player now. Not interested in blind dates. She wanted me to ask you anyway."
"Henpecked, much?" David asked as he handed Warrick the printout. It really shouldn't infuriate him that Nick blushed at Warrick's teasing.
Warrick barely wasted a glare on his remark, reading over the results. "Good," he nodded to himself. "Maybe I can get this thing wrapped and catch a few z's before I have to go into court."
"You have court tomorrow, too?" Nick asked. "Which case?"
"Basengi."
"Yeah?" Nick frowned, "That's the one I'm being called for. Why do they need both of us?"
"They shouldn't." Now Warrick was scowling, too. "C'mon," he sighed. "Let's track down the ADA and find out what's going on. At least one of us should be able to get a break."
"Yeah," Nick left his printouts on the table. "I'll be back in to finish this in few, okay?"
"I'll await your return with bated breath," David mustered up his driest tone.
Nick gave him a crooked grin and followed Warrick out of the lab.
David let out a sigh once both men were out of earshot, and couldn't help glaring at Warrick's back. Really, did the man have to flaunt it like that? Look, I just have to crook my little finger and Nick follows. I just have to drop my voice an octave and Catherine melts.
The part of David that reminded him to be fair--a part he preferred to ignore, as it usually made life more difficult--told him that Warrick's actions with Nick, at least, were completely innocent. Warrick had practically carried Nick through the first month of his recovery and had been supportive of Nick's coming out--no judging and only the friendliest of teasing. It wasn't Warrick Brown's fault that he was hopelessly straight, sexy as hell and capable of making people fall in love with him without even trying.
David sighed again as he began preparing some trace Sanders had brought in. Maybe he would take Gideon's advice after all--Lord knew the man had given him enough of it over dinner. He didn't really feel like going out to meet someone new, though. It was time-consuming and often disheartening. David was realistic enough to know that he was never going to stop a room, even though he could be fairly decent-looking when he put some effort into it. It would probably be simpler to phone someone he'd been with before, even though it had been months since he'd been with anyone. He was quite sure he wouldn't have much trouble finding someone who would say 'yes' to what amounted to little more than a booty call. Because however much trouble David Hodges may have attracting a guy he wanted into his bed the first time, once he did, there was rarely a problem getting them back a second time.
Just another bonus from having worked in St. Peregrine's Infirmary. A definite misfit in his small hometown in Ohio, David had actually felt more comfortable among the transsexuals and drag queens and sex workers than he had with most people back home. In turn, the patients were somewhat protective of the just-out kid who was shy but could turn bitingly sarcastic when provoked. They were as full of advice as Gideon Riggs, although theirs was of a decidedly different sort. David listened, though, figuring they probably knew what they were talking about, especially since some of them made a very good living.
He began employing those tips his last year at Berkeley. Put them into different orders and you practically had different formulas, and David Hodges had always been good with formulas. His sex life had gone from zero to sixty within a month of figuring his first formula. That, and his first few years out of Berkeley, had left him more than a little jaded about relationships--as if living through his parents' disastrous example for eighteen years hadn't done enough damage.
The problem was that David often had a tendency toward shallowness himself--he knew it, even if he didn't like admitting it--and preferred pretty boys with great muscles. Sadly, the majority of the pretty boys with great muscles rarely thought David was worth their time, so whenever David did manage to get one of the conceited jerks into his bed, he employed every formula he had to make them insane. Although he usually had to put too much concentration into it to really enjoy himself and let go, the sex was still pretty damn good and some nasty little part of him got a whole lot of satisfaction out of making the vain glories beg and then come back for more--David always smirked at that pun.
Occasionally, there had been relationships, but rarely more than a few months--the other problem was that once David got over their looks, he rarely found anything else, and quickly grew bored. There had been two men who had held his interest for longer, but one had used his intelligence to manipulate, and the other had eventually caved into family pressure and married his high school sweetheart. For the most part David liked his solitary life with only the occasional fling. Finding someone who was decent-looking and a decent person and intelligent enough not to bore him to tears had always taken more effort that David was willing to expend.
He'd long given up on finding the entire package when Nick Stokes first crossed his path. Nick, who went beyond intelligent, pretty and decent and all the way to beautiful, inside and out.
"Hey, Hodges," Greg poked his head through the lab door. "You get anything on those soil samples?"
"Just starting them," David refrained from any insults because he was grateful to Sanders for the interruption. He had been halfway to maudlin for a moment.
"Alr--Nick," Greg said, making David glance up briefly. Sure enough, the man himself was returning. Greg stopped him just by the doorway of the lab. "Uh...I wanted to talk to you for a minute."
David looked intently into his microscope and listened with all his might. He'd never had any qualms about eavesdropping in the lab, he figured CSIs ought to know better than to discuss anything really serious in a building with glass walls.
"Sure, what about?"
"Brendan," Greg sounded uneasy.
"What about him?" Nick's voice had suddenly become guarded.
"Look, I don't like doing this, but he asked me to ask you."
"Ask me what?" Nick's careless, distant tone was really starting to bother David.
"If you're going to call."
"Never said I would."
The extra drawl in Nick's voice set David's teeth on edge. It wasn't particularly unkind, but it wasn't like Nick, either.
"That's what I told him," Greg agreed. "But he wanted me to ask, anyway."
"Well, there you go," Nick said in the equivalent of a verbal shrug. "He's a big boy, he'll catch on."
And now Nick was moving into jerk territory.
"He said he knew what it was," Nick added coolly.
To hell with Gideon's advice. Maybe he would ask Nick Stokes out after all.
The hotter they were, the harder they begged.
That had always been David's motto.
David adjusted his collar and ran his fingers through his hair one last time. Okay. Keys. Check. Wallet. Check. Night stand--condoms, lube and a few extras. Check. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Good thing he wasn't nervous.
He wasn't, actually. Not too nervous. There was no point in being nervous until he knew for certain whom he was meeting--the warm and friendly Nick he'd asked out or the coolly amused Nick who'd accepted. If it was the former, there was time enough to become nervous, and if it was the latter there was no need at all. David never got nervous when it came to formulas.
As he drove to P.F. Chang's, he recalled Nick's brief, flustered moment before they decided on a restaurant and then on just meeting there. David found it strange that Nick wasn't used to being taken out--apparently the man hopped into the sack after a simple invitation, without bothering with any niceties in between. Parking at the restaurant, David reminded himself that it might very well be Nick's choice to run his love life that way, but some part of him couldn't shake the feeling that Nick was allowing himself to be taken advantage of. Did David want to be one of many who did that? Maybe it would be better if they didn't go further than dinner.
Twenty minutes later, Nick hadn't shown up or called and David began worrying that something might have happened to him. Finally, he arrived--without an apology--and David started going over some of the deadliest moves he'd ever heard in St. Perry's as they were shown to their table. David waited until their drink orders were taken--at ten in the morning, but this was Vegas so no one batted an eye--before speaking. "I thought maybe you were called to a scene."
"No," Nick shrugged carelessly. "Don't usually go out to eat when I hook up with a guy."
"I thought a little civility would be a nice change for you," David shot back, his tone even more coldly casual. "But hell, we can forget this and go back to my place. It'll save me a few bucks."
Nick's cool façade faltered for a split-second, David could see his surprise and something else that was gone before it could be identified. "May as well eat. You'll probably need the energy."
Not a bad recovery, but the boy was definitely an amateur. "That's more like it. I never figured you for a cheap...date."
"Know a lot about rates, do ya?" That comeback was quick and sharp.
Still a softball for someone like David, though. "Glass houses, Nick. I might not have been working here, but that doesn't mean I haven't heard."
That actually threw Nick off until their drinks arrived, which David found heartening. If it had been him, he would have replied with something especially cruel, maybe something about old queens loving gossip, but that was obviously out of Nick's league. It was nice to know that whatever else Nick was trying to do to himself, actual nastiness had not become second nature. David could have told him that you had to have been regularly exposed to it from an early age.
The food was delicious--surprisingly delicious, even for an upscale franchise--but dinner followed an unpleasant pattern. Nick would do his best to prove that this dinner and anything else that might happen meant very little to him. David would reply in kind and things would progress until David successfully slapped Nick back down. Then Nick would fall silent while he rallied himself and it would begin all over again.
The last time David had been to a dinner where so many insults had flown was...well, actually it was with the last person he'd been seeing. But then it was to be expected when dining with a drag queen and her roommates--one of whom had been a gossipy old queen. Of course, the barbs at that table had been playful, everyone trying to outdo one another with bitchiness. It had actually been one of the few relationships in which David paid more attention to personality that looks, because usually he liked them pretty, but not that pretty. The relationship fizzled before it started, but they were still friends.
With a painful jolt, David looked across the table at Nick and realized that a similar outcome was no longer possible in his current situation. This was not about who could out-snark the other and there was no undercurrent of humor anywhere. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to salvage whatever tenuous friendship had existed between them before this. It meant that there was really only one way this night could end. It would have to end at his place--or Nick's, but David would prefer to be on home turf--with sex. With damn good sex, because anything less could lead to amusement and maybe a sense of superiority from Nick--or even worse: pity from Nick.
Silence had fallen the last time the waiter came by to return David's credit card and receipt and continued through dessert, which David found something of a relief. Usually flinging insults invigorated him, but this had been a very tiring dinner.
Nick set his fork down and pushed his plate aside. "We done playing?"
Years of practice allowed David to keep his expression bland. "We're done. Back to my place?"
"Sure. What the hell?"
David nearly told Nick to leave off the what the hell? part next time. It reeked of false bravado. "I live in the Equinox Gardens on Solandra. Number seventeen. Unless you want to leave your truck here and I'll drive."
There was a missed beat before Nick replied. "Better not. Doubt I'll be there very long."
David arched an eyebrow as he stood. It was the only acknowledgment he gave that Nick's last shot was a pretty good one. Then, although it took more effort than he'd expected, he walked to his car without looking back as though he was positive Nick would follow. Once he was away and checked the rear view mirror, he saw Nick's truck was indeed, right behind.
As he drove through the front gate of his complex and then made sure Nick was able to drive in as well, David was torn between relief and disbelief, unable to shake the feeling that things just shouldn't be happening this way. Oh, whatever else, the sex would be good for both of them--he had plenty of ways to make sure of that, but it would also be bitter, maybe even hostile. David could take that as well as dish it out, and even enjoy it, but he never expected it to be like that if he ever had the opportunity with Nick.
Somewhere, way back in one of those fantasies he barely acknowledged at all, David had always imagined that Nick would be able to bring enough tenderness, enough sweetness to any encounter to tide them over until David figured that part out for himself.
With a sharp shake of his head, David parked his car and watched as Nick found the visitors' parking with no trouble. He remained where he was while Nick walked toward him, wondering again just how bad an idea this was. Then he quickly got out of the car before Nick could even begin to suspect something was wrong.
Silently, he led Nick to his townhouse and went inside, flicking on the lights as he passed them. When he turned to face Nick, David was somewhat gratified to see him looking around curiously but trying to conceal it. For a brief moment, David thought Nick might back out after all. He shrugged out of his blazer, forgetting that he was wearing a thin, tight-fitting sweater until he saw Nick's expression.
For the first time that night, Nick looked truly interested.
David only had a brief moment to try and decide whether he felt smug or nervous. Then Nick was moving toward him and anticipation took over.
Nick trailed a finger lightly from David's collar to his belt. "You asked me out," he said. "So you go first." His tone was just indifferent enough to be a challenge, as were the two fingers that slid briefly under the hem of his sweater.
David never expected to be jittery about this part--he'd never before had a problem undressing in front of a potential lover. He might not be as gorgeously built as Nick--he'd taken a peek at the shirtless CSI in the locker room whenever he had the chance, he was no fool--but David had never had any complaints either. His workout was probably nowhere near that of Nick or Warrick, but he did laps in one of the complex's pools every day, a couple of miles at his gym's Olympic-sized pool three or four times a week and even weights every now and then. Keeping that in mind, David pulled his sweater off before Nick decided to help him.
And Nick stared.
Nick actually looked impressed, and David suddenly felt some good humor--absent all evening--returning. Then he noticed something else in Nick's expression and narrowed his eyes. No. Surely that couldn't be...it was. David's lip curled.
The son of a bitch had the nerve to look surprised.
What had Nick thought? That he was doing David some sort of big favor by sleeping with him? That he'd have some entertaining interlude to look back on later?
Well, this pretty boy was in for a bit more than he'd planned.
David grasped the back of Nick's neck and pulled him in close for a hard, devouring kiss. There was only the briefest hesitation from Nick before he responded, opening his mouth under David's demanding lips and reaching out to touch David's bare torso. Allowing himself a single shudder under Nick's eager fingers, David then focused his attention on his goal, and the first step was exploring every recess of Nick's mouth while unbuttoning Nick's shirt.
He found Nick's nipples, and Nick moaned into his mouth, giving David the next step in his formula. He began kissing his way down, stopping briefly to suck on Nick's collarbone hard enough to leave a mark, then took a pebbled nipple between his teeth. Sucking, nibbling and even nipping by turns, David used his fingers to assure the opposite nubbin wasn't neglected. Nick stumbled back a few steps until he came up against a wall, his hands alternately cradling David's head and clutching at his hair.
As he worked his way down, lavishing attention on the hard abs and navel, David reflected briefly that Nick wasn't making any attempt to take the lead. That was a bit of a disappointment, because there was nothing David loved more than topping a top, but he soon decided those breathless little noises that kept escaping Nick more than made up for it. Nick clutched at his shoulders, trying to draw him back up, but David remained intent on his new task--getting Nick's jeans opened enough to partially free his erection. He only licked the head briefly before standing again. "Bedroom?" he asked Nick.
Nick was looking a little dazed, but he nodded and followed willingly when David hooked a finger into a belt loop to tug him along. "Do you--have what we need?" he asked when David gave him a push onto the bed.
"What do you think?" David actually impressed himself in that moment. It was no easy feet to keep your tone dry and bored when you were taking off your pants and had a half-naked Nick Stokes waiting on your bed. He leaned over for another deep kiss before concentrating on turning half-naked into completely naked. Nick was eager to help, kicking his jeans off the rest of the way once David got them past his knees.
With no lead up at all, David suddenly bent and took three-quarters of Nick's length into his mouth.
"Jesus!" Nick yelped as he tried to sit up, only to fall back again. "My god..."
This part was certainly no chore for David. Nick's cock was as beautifully proportioned as the rest of him and Nick's reaction was everything he could have hoped for. He stopped only briefly to retrieve a condom and some lube from the night stand, casually pushing Nick's hands away when the younger man reached for him. Instead, he applied his mouth to the straining erection again, while he deftly coated his fingers with lube and slid one hand under Nick's taut, arching body. One, then two fingers slid in with no trouble, and he wrung another cry from Nick when he rubbed one finger against the sensitive gland.
Now it was time for the second part of this formula.
Withdrawing both fingers and mouth, David knelt between Nick's legs and opened the condom, rolling it on while Nick watched with hot, dark eyes. "You want this, right?" he asked.
Nick's only answer to draw his legs up.
David carefully pushed past the ring of muscle, and then sank himself into that tight warmth. In that instant he wanted to say to hell with the formula, to let this be it, to just let go now, because oh my god, this was Nick and he never actually thought this would happen--
No.
No, goddamn it. If he let himself go now it would be just like every other one night stand Nick had, and if nothing else, Nick was damn well going to remember him.
Regaining control, David began to thrust slowly, and smiled when he noted that Nick's erection softened considerably when he was entered. That was all he needed to know to complete this equation. A few more thrusts, sliding across Nick's prostate as he went, and Nick pulled his legs higher. That's when David eased himself out, leaving Nick blinking in confusion.
"Is something wrong? What are y--oooohhh..." Nick's eyes slid shut as David began tracing all the contours of his thighs and hipbones with a very agile tongue, then used that tongue to coax him back to full hardness. David took Nick right to the edge, then sat up and lifted the toned legs, thrusting inside to take Nick back down.
The second time David did this, Nick didn't ask any questions.
The third time, Nick did a lot of panting and some very creative cursing.
By the fourth, Nick was writhing on the bed, a fine sheen of sweat glistening over his body and frantic pleas babbling from his mouth.
David brought Nick's ankles to rest on his shoulders, and drove into him for the last time, riding him hard and fast. He was pounding against the prostate now, and Nick soon hardened again, but this time, David encircled him with a hand still slick with lube and began pumping him in time. Nick didn't quite scream when he came, but the strangled cry that escaped him was close enough. As Nick bucked wildly in the throes of his powerful orgasm, David finally let himself go, thrusting into the writhing body beneath him.
Oh god...oh god,yes! David wanted to shout, but managed to keep himself to a series of loud groans as he collapsed on top of Nick's still-twitching form. He listened to Nick's ragged breathing while trying to catch his own, then carefully withdrew. Nick's legs fell limply to the mattress, his eyes were closed and he didn't move except for the occasional shiver.
Allowing himself a small smirk, David disposed of the condom and grabbed a small towel to clean up a little. Nick's body was completely lax, and he didn't let out so much as a murmur when David wiped him off a bit and then tossed some covers over him.
Nick let out a soft snore and David nodded to himself--if Nick had been capable of anything except sleep, it would have meant David's formula had failed. With a sigh, David slid under the covers. Everything had gone exactly as he'd planned. He'd just have to deal with the fact that very little had gone the way he wanted.
Fortunately, he had plenty of experience in that area.
Nick floated briefly before struggling to the surface, knowing even before he was fully awake that he was emerging from the heaviest sleep he'd had in a long time. It actually felt good, and he stretched luxuriously. A twinge in his legs--and a few other places--brought him more sharply into focus. They weren't unpleasant twinges--just the opposite, in fact, and Nick found himself smiling as he opened his eyes.
"Wow," he murmured, recalling the events of that morning. He looked around the shaded room, then reached to turn on the bedside lamp, the movement sending another series of tiny sparks through his nerves. Flopping back onto the bed, Nick shimmied his hips and stretched a little more, just so his body would remind him again how thoroughly--and amazingly--it had been used.
Who knew David Hodges was so mind-numbingly talented?
And where the hell was the guy, anyway?
Nick sat up and looked around, taking in the room's sleek, somewhat retro furnishings before his eyes fell on a piece of paper on the night stand that he hadn't noticed before. Curious, he picked it up.
I had an appointment and didn't know if you were particularly annoying when you're woken up, so I didn't bother. Shower is through the first door on your left. There should be coffee left in the kitchen.
Even David's note had a bit of an attitude. A small sound of amusement escaped Nick.
His jeans and shorts were at the foot of the bed, his shoes and socks on the floor beside it. He scooped everything up and headed for the bathroom. He took the briefest of showers and did his best to leave the room just as he'd found it. It felt--not uncomfortable, but...odd to be left alone in someone's place, especially considering it was the first time he'd ever been there. He couldn't imagine any of the other men he'd been with leaving him alone in their apartments, and he certainly wouldn't have felt comfortable leaving any of them at his place--not even those he'd dated from work. But then, they had been from other departments, whereas Nick had been working with David for nearly four years. What's more, neither of them had practically assaulted a messenger in an attempt to help him. That's what he'd heard from Greg, anyway, although he'd never been able to picture it. Now it was a little easier to believe.
He found his shirt draped over the back of dining chair and slipped it on. He hadn't planned on getting any coffee, but the scent of it wafting from the kitchen was too much to resist. It wasn't Blue Hawaiian, and Nick wondered why he thought it would be. It was definitely some sort of specialty blend, though.
As he stood at the counter, sipping, Nick tried to decide whether he actually enjoyed the "date" or not. Not the sex, because there was no question about that part, but dinner?
No, you didn't. Because he was rude.
Yes, you did. Because he was rude.
David was one of the few people who didn't act as though everything Nick was doing was all right. Nick rarely made excuses for things he did or things he said since the abduction. He didn't have to, because everyone seemed willing to do that for him. Almost as though to make up for the eggshell treatment from his friends and co-worker, most of the partners he said yes to were getting rougher and meaner all the time. Nick knew it was stupid and dangerous, but that was exactly what he wanted--he had to stay alert, he had to keep focused on what could happen if he'd chosen poorly. That way his mind didn't wander off to--
Best friends who'd gotten married.
--subjects best left alone.
Nick didn't need a shrink to tell him this was immature, self-destructive behavior. Which was just as well because he'd stopped going the moment his required visits were up.
When David asked him out, he'd actually felt hurt--betrayed somehow. Which was ridiculous because they weren't close or anything. They just happened to have fun bantering at work. If David had asked him at any other time, he might have said yes for very different reasons rather than to--
Well, he still wasn't entirely sure why he'd accepted. David was nothing like the men Nick usually chose--Nick liked them to be several inches taller and about thirty pounds heavier than he was. Looks didn't really matter, because Nick would always just close his eyes and picture--
Don't go there.
--someone else, anyway.
David and Nick were about the same size, but that quickly became a non-issue in light of David's lean, toned body and highly aggressive nature. In many ways, he was the one of the most aggressive partners Nick had been with, except that David hadn't tried to dish out anything but pleasure.
And he had. A lot of it.
One of the best things about it, though, was that David made it impossible to think about anything except what he was doing at that very moment. Without having to be watchful and wary. It was a relief that Nick hadn't even known he'd wanted.
It was also something Nick very much wanted to experience again.
Really, wouldn't it be only polite to ask David out for dinner in turn?
David wasn't exactly shocked when Nick asked him out for dinner a few days later. He'd actually been expecting it, what with the looks Nick had been casting in his direction. Those looks were a heady combination of shyness, heat and newfound admiration that David kept telling himself should really piss him off. What Nick needed was to be reminded of the definition of "one night stand" and to be told that he had no right look so appealingly shy considering his recent track record. So, of course, when Nick asked him to dinner there was only one thing David could reply.
Yes.
He might be cynical, but David Hodges wasn't stupid.
Nick didn't try to maintain his stone-cold player attitude at dinner this time, and was his usual friendly, good-natured self.
David was having none of it.
Any attempt Nick made at conversation that went beyond work was so ruthlessly squashed that he gave up before long. He didn't seem too unhappy with the mostly silent meal.
They went to Nick's afterward where David spent a very long time exploring every bit of Nick's skin with fingers, lips, teeth and tongue. Every bit except the most important ones, that is. Instead, David focused on areas he knew were often ignored and found that in Nick's case, the navel, the backs of his knees and the small of his back were all extra-sensitive.
The only time David actually touched Nick's straining, leaking erection was to wrap his fingers tightly around the base to hold Nick off. Seeing as he was practically fucking Nick's navel with his tongue and occasionally nuzzling along the pelvic bone while he prevented Nick's release, he knew it was particularly torturous. He flipped Nick onto his stomach and spent an equally long time tracing the contours of his back, and when David applied his tongue to the creases where thigh met buttock, Nick bucked so hard he nearly jolted David off the bed. By the time David focused he attention between those firm cheeks, Nick was practically sobbing, and this time, Nick did scream when he came, although his face was pressed into the pillows, muffling most of it.
Nick greyed out for several minutes, made an unsuccessful attempt to say something when David was cleaning him up, and then fell into a deep sleep.
David got dressed and went home.
A week later, Nick invited him for breakfast after shift. David said there was no reason to bother with food anymore, so they went to Nick's where David tormented Nick until he begged, then fucked him until he was exhausted and left shortly after. Again.
And so it went until, almost before David realized it, more than a month had passed. A month during which he and Nick met three or four times a week. Five weeks of abundant great sex, a minimum of conversation, and intricate head games were enough to leave David both infuriated and weary. The head games were especially provoking because David had the suspicion he was the only one playing them. Nick either was unaware of or choosing to ignore their necessity.
For the most part, Nick accepted the limitations David silently imposed on their encounters. From time to time he would make the attempt to talk or touch without it being sexual and then look disappointed when David firmly blocked these attempts, but none of it was enough for him to call the whole thing off.
That kept things mostly silent, because Nick wasn't much of a talker during sex. It was something that had surprised David, actually. Oh, he could wring all sorts of noises from Nick, but there were few actual words. David found he liked it that way. The near-silence made the sex even more intense and helped avoid any more complications. Further to that end, David did everything he knew how--and he knew plenty--to see to it that Nick was too busy before and too tired after for anything more than a brief sentence or two. If they were at Nick's, David was always up and gone less than an hour after they were finished. If they were at his place it was more difficult, but he usually managed to find somewhere else to be.
There were times when David wondered what the point was to all this, when he could have just as easily had great sex with any number of guys and not have to expend so much energy plotting and calculating how much time, how much talking, how much touching they could do without crossing his self-imposed line. But this was Nick. Nick wanted to be with him and if David turned that opportunity down, that would make him an idiot. Right? And even though Nick wanted to be with him, David had no way of knowing what or where Nick's feeling might truly be, so all these precautions were for the best. Right?
Right.
That's what David told himself for what seemed like the hundredth time as he answered his door. On the other side was Nick, all warm smiles and soft brown eyes, damn him. It was really unfair because the original deal had been for the Nick who was cold-hearted and a jerk, not this one who made David think of lazy mornings and holding hands and all that other crap that normally made his teeth hurt.
David stood aside to let Nick in, eyeing the bag he was holding warily.
"I brought breakfast," Nick said, lifting the bag slightly.
"I didn't invite you for breakfast."
"I know, but I thought--"
"Later," David took the bag from him and set it on the counter.
"We never get to later," Nick pointed out, trying even though David had successfully backed him up against a wall. "We--" The rest of his words were muffled as David stopped the conversation the way he always did. "Wait," he insisted, pushing David's hands away from his belt. "C'mon--"
"Don't tell me you're actually tired of sex." David stepped back and folded his arms. They were done. He was ready to deal with that. He was.
"It's just...do we always have to be so--" Nick shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't you ever just relax?"
That was a bit rich coming from him. "Of course I relax," David retorted. "With my friends."
Nick blinked. "We're not friends?"
"Is every guy you've slept with a friend?" David knew he sounded especially caustic with that question.
"No. But that's why I never slept with any of them more than--David, this is different."
"Not really. It's just lasting a bit longer."
Nick tilted his head slightly, but before he could ask any more questions, David grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him in for a searing kiss.
For a split-second, Nick didn't react and David thought he was going to be pushed away, but then Nick's arms came up and he melted into the kiss. David moved from Nick's lips down to his throat while his hands slid up under Nick's shirt.
"David..." Nick's fingers slid through his hair. "David, I just wanted toooooohhh," he gasped as David zeroed in on his nipples. "Umm...I thought...I wanted us to disc--"
Dammit. So much for Nick not being a talker. He should have known it was too good to be true. So it was back up to devour those lips again and muffle anything else Nick had to say.
Thankfully, Nick got the hint the second time and didn't speak when David pulled his shirt up and off. Trailing his fingers along the warm skin as he went, David moved behind Nick and nipped lightly at the nape of his neck before applying his tongue. He trailed his tongue down Nick's spine and smirked inwardly when he felt the Texan shudder.
Putting his hands on the slim hips, David steered Nick toward the bedroom with every intention of keeping him far too busy to worry about anything as trivial as speech.
Nick enjoyed waking up in David Hodges' bed. He didn't even mind waking up in David's bed alone--not much, anyway. He was getting a little tired of waking up to David's empty house, though.
It was completely unreasonable of him. Nick knew that. David had the right to think he only wanted meaningless sex--hell, he'd thought so. It also made him look like an idiot to stay at David's for hours afterward when David always left as soon as possible--Nick knew that, too. David was giving him the most blatant of hints--get up and get out. Nick was willing to that, but it was difficult since he was usually deeply asleep. If David wanted him out, then David was going to have to wake him up, especially considering it was the chemist's fault he slept like the dead.
Sitting up and throwing back the covers, Nick stretched again and scrubbed at his hair. This was the confusing part. Why clean and then cover him up if Nick was supposed to leave? Why let him fall asleep at all? For that matter, why even take it into the bedroom? The living room, on the table, even against the damn door--Nick had been with men in all those situations and afterward the only thing to do was leave. But get up from a soft, warm bed when you're sated and wonderfully exhausted? That was a bit much to ask of anyone.
On the other hand, David always managed to leave.
With a sigh, Nick got up to use the bathroom, but decided against a shower or coffee. David hadn't left a note after the first time, but when Nick got up, when were always clean towels waiting on the counter and coffee brewing in the kitchen. He glanced the clock on the night stand as he was getting dressed. Half-past one. No, it would probably be best for him to go home and get ready. As of three o'clock, he was on-call--it was graveyard's month for out-of-town scenes and his week as Lead CSI. It was his first time as Lead since returning to work, and he wanted to be sure to be prepared if a call came in.
As he drove home, Nick told himself firmly that if he wanted to repay David for the pleasure and--and what? Security? Was that was it was? Nick wasn't certain, but it felt as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Ever since his abduction, Nick began wondering if his very nature had somehow made him a target for everything that had happened to him. That, combined with the rethinking of life-decisions that came with any near-death experience--so his shrink had said--put him in at cross purposes. Even as he decided to stop hiding his preference for men and begin dating, he also decided that to avoid another Nigel Crane or Walter Gordon, he was going to have to stop being so open. That wasn't him--it had never been him. He made himself get out there, though, just to show everyone that he was okay. That he was recovering nicely and certainly didn't have any problem with--
Warrick's marriage.
--anything anyone else had to do to deal with the trauma, because it wasn't just his trauma. Nick knew it had affected everyone else in the lab as well, even though it was never mentioned--not to him, anyway. It wasn't in him to deliberately keep from connecting with the people he met, or to tell himself he didn't care if his coldness might cause some hurt feelings, but he did it anyway. After the first month, he deliberately avoided hooking up with anyone who might start to care. It was much simpler that way. He might not have been happy with what he was doing, might have hated himself for doing it, but most of his friends seemed satisfied with his behavior, so that had to be good enough.
Letting out another sigh, Nick walked into his empty house.
Now he'd found someone he could be himself with, someone he could trust, who was able to keep his mind off--
His best friend.
--anyone else when they were together, and who didn't seem the least bit interested in anything serious. Shouldn't he be feeling grateful instead of vaguely dissatisfied? He should, and if he wanted to demostrate his gratitude he really out to abide by David's wishes. It was something Nick had to keep reminding himself, because it was becoming more and more difficult to do. You ingrate.
Yes, it was supposed to be just sex, since that's what it had been about when David first asked him out. But that had been more than a month ago. If they were still seeing each other, shouldn't things have progressed beyond discussing work and then jumping into the sack? He'd always had fun talking to David at work and imagined the same would apply to conversations that weren't centered around the job. He had questions he wanted to ask David--about how extensive his horror movie collection was; how he'd got the strangely-shaped scar on his shoulder; where the hell he'd learned to do what he did in bed. Actually, Nick could live without knowing the answers to those questions, and if he had to, he could live without much conversation between them--he didn't mind the quiet when he was with David. What he was having trouble with the way David rejected any touch that wasn't sexual. Couldn't it just be about reassurance and affection sometimes?
Why did he care so much, anyway?
Before when he thought about David, what came to mind was a guy who was bitingly funny when in a good mood and bitingly sarcastic in a bad one. Who complained about the trace you'd dropped off but got it back to you in plenty of time and with exacting results.
And now?
Showered, shaved and in fresh clothes, Nick continued to ponder as he went into the kitchen to make himself some lunch. Other than the fact that the man was very talented, Nick didn't know anything more about David than he had before. So why had his feelings changed? Just the great sex? Really? Didn't that make him woefully shallow? It wasn't the same way he felt about--
When his cell warbled at him, Nick was actually grateful. "Stokes."
"Nick? It's Conrad."
Ecklie. This couldn't be good.
"I understand you're the Lead CSI on call this week?"
"That's right."
"Well, I just got off the phone with the Sheriff, and he had a request from the Lincoln County Commissioner."
Where the hell was this going? "Okay..."
"It seems they've got a scene out there--very suspicious circs, they think it might be a multiple--and they're requesting assistance from Clark Country."
"Oh," Nick was intrigued. "And the Sheriff gave his okay?"
"Of course. You up to taking a look at it?"
"Sure," Nick agreed at once. "Where exactly is it?"
"Pioche."
"Whoa. That's nearly four hours."
"I know that," Ecklie said flatly. "I told them it would be evening before you got out there. You'll need to stop by the lab to pick up the faxes, anyway. So far you're cleared for the expense of a hotel for at least one night. We'll have to discuss it if you need more."
"Okay," Nick was wrapping up his sandwich one-handed, eager to be on his way. Then his enthusiasm wavered, "Did--did you talk to Grissom about it?"
"He's the graveyard supervisor," Ecklie pointed out. "Who do you think I called first? He's the one who told me to send you out."
"Oh." Wow. "Okay, I'm on my way."
"Good."
Nick flipped his phone shut and quickly cleared his cupboard. He wondered if Grissom had any idea how much it meant to him to be sent out on this call. Even as Lead CSI, with a case like this, Grissom could have easily bypassed him to send Catherine or go himself and no one would have batted an eye. Grabbing his spare kit from his hall closet--his usual kit was in the Denali already--Nick decided the best way to show his appreciation was to be sure he was an absolute pro on this case.
"He's on his way back. He stayed the extra day because he wanted to interview the little girl himself."
"But Sara's already back," Archie sounded confused. "I didn't think she'd want to leave him alone. After what happened in interrogation--"
"Well," Greg shrugged. He didn't seem to consider as big a deal as Sara had. "That was before they'd found the bodies--and Cassie. He was just so sure Cassie was still alive and time was running out."
"He's not going to get into trouble or anything, is he? I mean, he was right."
"I don't think so. I hope not. Sara was just worried because--y'know."
David refrained from rolling his eyes by looking back down at the newspaper he was holding. He was careful to show only the regular interest anyone would in an unusual case. Nearly everyone in the lab had already heard of Nick's outburst, so neither of the younger men seemed to find it odd for David to be paying attention to their conversation.
"Do you know if he's coming here when he gets back? I wanted to double check what exactly he wants done with the surveillance tape."
Greg shook his head. "He's probably going home to crash. I hope so, anyway. Catherine switched off with him for the rest of the week so he won't be on call."
David drained the last of his coffee--Greg's coffee, technically--and strolled back to his lab. Likely he wouldn't be hooking up with Nick for a day or two, then, and that was certainly for the best. If Nick was as affected by this case as it sounded, then David was the last person he needed to be around. David just didn't do comforting or cheering up.
With a determined effort, David focused his attention on his work. He was only approved for another hour of overtime and he wanted to get his desk cleared before leaving for the day. He was so successful that when Nick spoke his name a half-hour later, David jumped and nearly broke his nose on the microscope.
"You're back," David said. It wasn't his wittiest remark, but it was better than the first thing that crossed his mind--good God, you look terrible.
"Yeah," Nick's voice was raspy. He cleared his throat several times. "Are you here much longer?"
Oh, no. Don't ask, Nick. It's a bad, bad idea. "I've got about another half an hour."
Nick nodded and glanced toward the door briefly before looking at David again. "Would you--do you want to come on over after?"
Say no. Say no. Make up some sort of excuse. "Sure. If you want."
"I'd like that," Nick's smiled trembled a little.
"I'll be by when I'm done," David said, struggling to keep his expression bland.
"Okay," Nick looked and sounded so grateful that it brought an unexpected lump to David's throat.
He watched Nick leave, then rubbed his forehead. Dumb move. Such a dumb move. Possibly the dumbest move ever. Yet how could he have done anything else? How could he say no when Nick was pale with exhaustion? When Nick's eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed? When Nick was clutching a piece of crayon-colored construction paper like it was a lifeline? It would take a much harder heart than David Hodges possessed.
That didn't mean this wasn't a Really Bad Idea.
When David arrived at Nick's he still had no idea what he was supposed to say. Maybe when he actually saw the Texan he'd think of something eloquent and helpful. Then Nick opened the door, looking no better than he had in the lab, and David waited briefly to see if inspiration struck.
Nothing.
"Hi," Nick stood aside to let him in.
Maybe something like good job, David mused as he walked in. No, that's too--that's just stupid. Something along the lines of brilliant work, finding that little girl. No. Start with something like sounds like it was a rough case, how are you holding up? Yeah. That's actually--
Before David could complete the thought, let alone voice it, Nick's lips were on his and Nick's hands were gripping his shoulders tightly.
Oh. Oh. David automatically tangled his hand in the soft hair and took control of the kiss, tremendously relieved. If this was the way Nick wanted to deal with a rough case, then at least it was something David could definitely help him with. On the other hand, Nick was clutching at him so desperately that David knew he was going to have to throw his formulas out the window.
But just this once.
Sliding his hands under the thick hooded sweatshirt Nick was wearing, David was surprised to find not one, but two more shirts underneath. He tore his mouth from Nick's long enough to ask--"What's with all the layers?"
"Cold," Nick murmured into his neck. "Ever since I jumped out of the boat." He pressed himself close to David as if trying to absorb body heat. "No matter what I do. Just cold..."
David swallowed hard, but managed to sound like his usual self when he spoke. "Okay," he pulled Nick's sweatshirt and one t-shirt up and off together. "We'll get these clothes off you and get you warmed up." He could feel Nick's breath against his neck, and Nick's fingers--unusually clumsy--fumbling at the buttons of his shirt. Letting go only long enough to discard his shirt, David pulled Nick against him again as they stumbled toward the bedroom.
Nick's remaining t-shirt was pushed up and David immediately bent to apply lips and tongue to the sleek torso. "David..." Nick breathed, gripping a handful of the chemist's hair. "David, please..."
"Easy," David murmured, puffing a breath on the moist skin and making Nick shudder. "Calm down, Nick. You know I'll take care of you." Easily, he dropped to his knees and made short work of Nick's belt and zipper. He slid the jeans and shorts down slowly, taking Nick's erection in his mouth only briefly before continuing downward. "Step out," he prompted, and Nick did, holding on to David's shoulders for balance as David removed his socks as well.
David ran his hands up the backs of the muscular calves to trace light teasing patterns behind Nick's knees. When he began placing kisses on the inside of Nick's thigh, Nick's legs gave way and he sat down hard on the bed. Smiling, David continued to move his lips closer to his goal.
"No...no..." Nick moaned, sounding so distressed David stopped immediately.
"What is it?"
"Don't do this," Nick pleaded, pulling David up the length of his body to kiss him again. He fumbled for the night stand with one hand. "I don't want...I can't wait. Just this once, David, don't...don't..."
Under Nick's urgent hands, David forgot any notion of formulas and stepped back only long enough to quickly shed the rest of his clothes. He took the lube and coated his fingers, meeting Nick's lips again as he worked one hand under Nick's body.
"That's good. That's enough," Nick insisted, even though David had barely gotten his second finger inside.
David frowned. "Nick, usually we do a lot more--"
"No," Nick panted. "I want it like this. Please, David."
David was used to hearing Nick beg. Normally, he loved it, but this--this was different. He knew Nick wanted--needed--something more from him.
He just wasn't sure what it was.
In the meantime, though, he could at least give Nick something else to think about. He tore open the condom wrapper and knelt on the bed before rolling it on. "Are you sure?" he asked again.
Nick's only response was to hook one leg around David's hip.
Taking a deep breath, David positioned him and tried to go as slowly as possible. When Nick let out a tiny hiss, David froze and began to withdraw.
"Don't stop," Nick raised his other leg to lock it around David as well. "It's fine now."
David braced himself over Nick, his arms trembling with the effort. He'd always prided himself on his self-control and this was taking every bit he possessed.
"David..." Nick wrapped his arms around David's neck and lifted himself enough for several more hungry kisses. "Please, I need this...I need you..."
No one had that much willpower.
David set a hard pace right from the start, not even bothering working his way up to it. He knew he had just the right angle because of the moans and gasps his movements were wringing from Nick, who arched his back and bucked his hips as he came, chanting David's name over and over. Although he tried to hold back, David felt himself being carried along.
It was frantic and primal and insane and David couldn't remember ever feeling anything so intense before.
He collapsed on top of Nick, trying to catch his breath.
"Just like that..." Nick's voice was little more than a quivering whisper.
Allowing himself a moment of weakness, David buried his face in Nick's neck before regretfully easing away. Nick let out a small noise of discomfort and David winced in sympathy. Normally, he would be up and out of bed to clean himself off, but now it was all he could do just to roll over, get rid of the condom and grab something to clean up with, then shift enough for Nick to throw the covers over them both.
David kept his eyes focused determinedly on the ceiling, even though he could sense Nick looking at him. He had already crossed too many of the lines he'd never meant to tonight, and he knew he had to distance himself from this situation before things got any worse. So no matter if the urge was there, he was not going to look at Nick. He knew what would happen--he'd pegged Nick as a cuddler long before they'd ever slept together. It was the most important line David had drawn and thus far he had been able to maintain it. It didn't matter that he felt drowsier than usual, more sated than usual, and closer than usual, stepping over that line now would mean Really Big Trouble.
So he lay still, listened to Nick's soft sigh and waited, just as he always did. It took a little longer than usual, but eventually Nick's breathing deepened and evened out. David let out a sigh of his own and mustered what little willpower he had left to make himself sit up. One glance told him that Nick was indeed sound asleep, so David got out of bed, quietly collected his scattered clothes and headed for the bathroom.
He only took the time to pull on his boxers before going to the sink and splashing water on his face. He leaned over the sink, one arm propped on either side, and bent his head to he wouldn't have to look at his reflection. What the hell was that?
Stupid.
Fantastic.
Whatever it was, don't do it again.
He rinsed his face once more and was just drying off when he heard Nick speaking.
Damn. So much for a clean getaway.
He opened the bathroom door and stuck his head out. "What did you say?"
Nick spoke again. David couldn't make out what he was saying, but he sounded upset about something.
Taking a deep breath, David walked back to the bedroom. "I didn't catch that. What did you--"
"I'm here...I'm here...she'll drown--she'll drown if I can't breathe. I can't breathe."
Oh, god. David took another halting step into the room. Nick didn't seem to be moving much, but his words and tone said this was a horrible nightmare. "Nick," he said sharply, hoping that would be enough.
"Stop the boat, let me out...oh, God...let me out!"
"Nick!" David hurried to the bed, and shook him slightly.
"They can't find me..." Nick whispered, sounding hopeless. "If they can't find me how will I find her?"
David took him by the shoulders and gave a harder shake. "Nick, you're dreaming."
Nick jerked awake, his expression one of blind terror, and David instinctively tightened his grip.
"Nick?"
Sitting up, Nick drew in great lungfuls of air. "Oh, God, that's messed up..." he gasped, holding onto David's arms and bowing his head. "Oh, jeez..."
Before he even realized he was doing it, one of David's hands came up to smooth Nick's hair as he tried to remember whether it was better to talk about a nightmare or to try to take someone's mind off it.
"God..." Nick swayed slightly, but then stiffened his back. "I'm sorry, David."
"Nick, do you understand the whole concept of this subconscious thing?" David's tone wasn't as dry as he would have liked, but he was just glad his voice didn't shake. "It means you can't control what you dream. What the hell are you apologizing for?"
Nick let out a sound that--technically--could have been a laugh and dropped his head even lower.
David decided to believe it was a laugh, since he wasn't sure how to deal with the other option. He wasn't even sure how to deal with the current option, and cursed himself for being so lousy at the whole reassurance thing. Nick seemed to be okay now, but he was holding himself rigid, and David suspected it was the only way he could keep from trembling.
For crying out loud, say something! David ordered himself, Say something, dammit! "Nick, was it this recent case or your kidnaping?"
Nick lifted his head slightly, but not enough to actually look at David. "No one ever calls it that."
Oh. Shit. "Sorry. What do they call it?"
"They don't," Nick sighed. He took several more long breaths. "It was both. It was my kidnaping and Cassie. If I wasn't found, then she wouldn't be found because I had the bubblegum she should have been using for a trail, and it was in my ears so I couldn't--" Several shudders wracked his body before he caught himself again, "It was just...all twisted together..."
"Do...you have these often?"
"Not for a while. Not since--" Nick stopped and looked up at him.
David was relieved that although Nick's eyes were damp, there was no sign of any actual tears. "Since what?"
"Since we started...this."
David, who always made sure he had something to say, was at a complete loss. All he could come up with was--"Too tired to dream?" That, and try to sound as smug as possible.
He obviously succeeded, because Nick let out a soft laugh. "Something like that."
"Well, let this be a lesson to you. Next time don't be so pushy--I know what I'm doing."
Did he really just say that?
Nick's eyebrows shot toward his hairline, then a smile ghosted across his face as he shook his head and let out another soft laugh.
The worst seemed to be over and a shiver of relief went though David.
Wait. That wasn't relief, he was just cold.
"I was just getting dressed when I heard you," he said as he worked to loosen Nick's grip.
Nick frowned briefly, then his eyes widened and he released David. "Oh. Sorry, I--sorry." He tried to smile, but it wavered dangerously. "Thanks. I--I'm glad you were still here."
Impulsive decisions are never the right ones. Impulsive decisions are never the right ones.
"Usually when I wake up from one of these..." Nick's voice shook for a moment before he caught himself. "Well, thank you."
Oh, hell. "You're welcome. Now shove over. I'm freezing."
Nick blinked, then quickly shifted to make room.
David climbed back under the covers and settled himself against the pillows. Nick stared at him uncertainly, and it only took the slightest tug for him to nestle close. Before he had time to think about it, David wrapped both arms tightly around him.
With a sigh that bordered precariously on a sob, Nick pressed his cheek against David's shoulder. As he did, David was swept by a wave of tenderness stronger than anything he'd felt in well over a decade.
That's when he knew he was in Really Big Trouble.
David was awake.
Mostly.
All but one arm. The one currently trapped under Nick's body--that arm was still asleep.
He raised his head enough to get a glimpse of the clock. It was only a little past five, which meant there was plenty of time before the graveyard shift began. That didn't concern David nearly as much as the fact that he probably wasn't going to get out of there before Nick woke up.
Especially since Nick seemed to be awakening at that very moment.
When Nick shifted slightly and then stretched, David slid his arm free, grimacing at the unfreezing needles that assaulted him.
"Hey," came a drowsy voice.
Fuck. "Hey."
A kiss landed on David's bare shoulder. "I really appreciate you staying."
It really was ridiculous to be stuck in the middle of an awkward "morning after" when they'd been seeing each other for over a month.
"Do you want some coffee?"
Apparently, David was the only one who noticed the awkwardness.
"Don't bother," he said as he sat up. "I have to get going."
"Right. This must have really messed up your schedule."
If Nick meant that to be at all snide, he completely missed the mark. David doubted he did, though, and somehow that made it even worse. "Don't worry about it," he muttered. "Really." He got up and quickly left the bedroom, despite the temptation to turn around and see Nick sitting among the tangled sheets. David used the bathroom and got dressed quickly, but Nick was up and waiting for him when he emerged.
"I was just wondering if you want to meet up for dinner before shift."
"Can't. Sorry."
Nick didn't seem surprised. "How about breakfast after?"
"We stopped bothering with that after the second time." That seemed like an excellent parting shot, so David headed for the door.
"David--"
"What?" David spun around, snapping a bit more than he meant to.
Nick opened his mouth, but promptly shut it again, shrugging helplessly.
Okay, you dodged that bullet. Now get the hell out. Unfortunately, his mouth had other plans. "There's a little place about a block from where I live--Sirk's. I go there almost every day after work unless I grab breakfast with the other techs. So if you don't see me leaving with the labrats..."
"Okay, I--" Nick nodded, breaking into a smile, "Okay."
David left before he did anything else phenomenally stupid.
Of course, Nick showed up at Sirk's after shift. David knew he would, which is what he took the lone corner booth.
"Hi," Nick's smile was cautious as he sat down. "You weren't kidding when you said 'little.'"
With two small booths, three tables and counter with four stools, twenty-five people was capacity at Sirk's. "I think it's just a hobby for the owners," David nodded toward the woman approaching their booth, coffee pot in hand. A woman who would have definitely been zoftig in her younger days but was slowly working her way toward blowzy. David could have cared less, Esmé told it like it was and made the best hash browns he'd ever tasted.
"Morning, you," she said as she filled his cup. "How was work?"
"I work in a crime lab," David retorted. "Take a wild guess."
"Must be an off day," she observed. "You've used that one before." She turned to Nick, and picked up his cup. "Good morning," she smiled at him.
"Mornin'," Nick returned the smile.
Esmé's smile widened as she handed Nick a menu. "I'll be back in a few, boys."
"Yeah, you've got a real rush this morning," David said dryly. There were five other customers, which was about average for the hour.
"Smarting off does not get you faster service," Esmé informed him before sashaying--Esmé pretty much sashayed everywhere--back to the kitchen.
Nick was observing the exchange with interest, then his eyes widened as he took a sip of his coffee. "Hey. This is your coffee."
"No," David held up his own cup. "This is my coffee."
"You know what I mean."
"Esmé gets it from some gourmet place in San Francisco. She lets me buy it at cost."
"Nice lady. What kind of name is Sirk's, though?"
David blinked. This was not the conversation he expected to be having. "Name?"
"Sirk's, it's just an odd name. I thought maybe it would be a Morrocan or Indian restaurant."
"Bad signage," David couldn't help smiling, because Nick had actually hit on an amusing point.
"What?"
"Apparently it was supposed to be Sir K's after Esmé's late husband. She got a relative to make the sign and he screwed it up, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings, so..."
"So...Sirk's," Nick was grinning now.
David caught himself before he grinned back--barely. He decided he'd better use this opportunity to get answers to some of his questions, because he was determined that after this breakfast, things would return to their former state or end.
Really.
"I have a question," he finally announced and Nick nodded encouragingly. "How bad did these nightmares get before you had me as--among other things--your own personal tranquilizer?"
Nick's smile disappeared, but before he could say anything, Esmé returned. "Know what you want, boys? If you're really--" she caught the look David shot her. "No chatting today. Gotcha. The usual for you, then?" When David nodded, she turned to Nick, "What about you, honey?"
David rolled his eyes.
"I'll have the Western Skillet, thanks."
"You got it," Esmé took back the sheet that was her breakfast menu and off she went.
Nick took another sip of coffee, wrapping both hands around the mug. David couldn't help wondering if he was still feeling cold. "David," Nick began again. "I'm not--you aren't...that is, I don't want you to think--"
"Is that the reason you were never with anyone more than once? Nightmares?" If that was the case, David knew it would change everything.
It was obvious from Nick's expression that he wasn't thrilled with this particular topic, and he hesitated before answering. "No," he finally said, somewhat unwillingly. David quickly squelched that tiny ray of hope. "Not really. Sometimes it was, but--y'know, it's not like I have nightmares every night. Or that I slept with someone different every night, either."
"But often enough," David returned, but didn't clarify whether he was referring to the men or the dreams.
Nick sighed. "It depended on the guy. Most found it a good reason to call it a night--well, day. Some were okay, some got scared. One guy kicked me out of bed--literally. Some guys--" he stopped abruptly.
David saw him shudder. "What?"
"Some guys were really...turned on by it," Nick finished quietly.
Bile rose in the back of his throat. "What kind of sick fucks were you hooking up with?" he hissed. "What the hell--"
Nick shook his head.
"Why in God's name did you accept when I asked? What did you think I was going to do to you?"
"Nothing. I knew it wouldn't be like that," Nick said firmly. "And even though I usually looked for--" he met David's eyes briefly. "I don't know why I accepted when you asked me."
"Moment of insanity?" David couldn't keep the chill out of his tone.
"I'm starting to think it was a single moment of sanity," Nick said, his eyes on his coffee cup.
Alarm bells began sounding in the back of David's mind, which only annoyed him further. Oh, sure. Now you warn me. Where the hell were you yesterday when I first started losing my damn mind?
"David, things have...changed between us, haven't they?"
David focused his gaze out the window, not knowing what he'd say if he looked into those earnest brown eyes. "I don't see why they would."
"But--" Nick stopped and sighed. "We always got along well at work. Don't you think we would be good together outside of work? I mean, beside always just--"
"There's really no point," David cut him off.
"What--"
Esmé appeared at that moment with their breakfast. She obviously picked up on the tension at the table, because she was all business as she served them. "Enjoy your meal," she said and gave David a look that threatened to get the whole story out of him at some point, then left them alone.
David didn't doubt she would.
"So there can't be anything else between us?" Nick asked.
"No." For the first time, Esmé's breakfast wasn't making his mouth water.
"Why not?"
"Because it's one thing to be a stand-in for someone else during sex, but I'll be damned if I start doing it out of bed, too," David finally voiced the fear that had been hovering at the back of his mind since that first dinner.
Nick blinked in confusion. "Wh-what? Stand-in? For who?"
"For the guy you're really in love with, Nick," David snapped, knowing this really shouldn't be making him so angry. Nick couldn't help how he felt.
"I'm...not in love with anyone," Nick said slowly.
"Oh, really? So your feelings toward Warrick are just friendly?"
The color abruptly drained from Nick's face. "You--what? Warrick?"
"Well, you weren't sleeping around before he got married," David observed casually. He pushed his food around on the plate as though he actually had an appetite.
"That doesn't mean--" Nick swallowed hard, "I...after what happened, when I was recovering--he was so good to me...I couldn't help it..."
"Nick." This conversation did not hurt. It didn't. "It was before that."
"How--?" Nick looked miserable, although that certainly wasn't the reason that David's heart felt as though someone was squeezing the hell out of it. "I didn't think anyone...that is, I tried not to be obvious--" He winced, making David's chest tighten even further. "No one ever brought it up. I didn't think anyone--do many people know?"
"None of your fellow CSIs seem to have noticed, if that's what you mean. Probably too close to you both to see it," David was amazed that he was able to maintain his usual bored tone, although he had the feeling it wouldn't be for much longer.
Nick fiddled with his food, then set his fork aside.
His temper was starting to get away from him, and David tried unsuccessfully to rein it in. "So although I have no idea why you think I make a decent stand-in for Warrick Brown and on some days I can even find it flattering--if I really squint--I'm not--"
"That's not--that isn't true," Nick interrupted.
David reminded himself they were in a public place and managed to keep his voice low. "Do you expect me to believe that you don't close your eyes and picture Warrick?"
The way Nick shrank back against his seat let David know he'd made a direct hit, even though Nick was shaking his head in denial. "Maybe I--maybe I did before, but--"
"But not with me? With everyone but me?" Did Nick think he still believed in Santa Claus, too?
"Yes," Nick's voice was quiet but steady.
"Oh, come on. What the hell do you take me for?"
A tiny spark of anger lit the dark eyes. "Y'know, David, maybe we're too close for you to notice a few things."
"We're not close, Nick," David surprised even himself with the iciness of his voice. "We're just sleeping together."
Hurt flashed across Nick's features and David decided he'd had enough. His throat was too tight to say anything else, anyway. He got up from the booth and stalked to the door, ignoring the startled looks from the other customers, most of whom he knew by sight. As he left, he only gave Esmé a curt nod in response to her--"On your tab?"
David kept up his swift pace until he'd reached his own door and let himself in, suddenly too tired to even bother slamming it. His anger had evaporated quickly, leaving him feeling weary and stupid and small. He'd barely gotten his jacket off when the doorbell sounded. Tempting though it was to ignore it, David knew there was no point. Nick wouldn't give up--he wouldn't be Nick if he did. Taking a deep breath, David opened the door.
Nick stood on the other side, holding two foil-wrapped packages. A small frisson of amusement penetrated David's tangled emotions. Esmé wasn't about to let him miss his breakfast, especially not when it meant a few extra minutes in the company of a good-looking man. He could just imagine her bombarding Nick with questions and playfully flirtatious remarks, and Nick's resulting blush. It had delayed Nick long enough for David to get home, and for that David was grateful. The only thing that could have made this situation any worse would have been for Nick to have caught up with him on the sidewalk.
That didn't mean this wasn't going to make David's Top Ten Worst Moments Ever.
"Can I come in?"
Still not trusting his voice, David shook his head.
"Okay. I just--" Nick shifted, and met David's eyes briefly. "I thought you should know that you were right about some things. I did--do--have feelings for Warrick, even though I know nothing will ever...well, anyway...and yeah, it's true that usually I thought about him when--"
"That's all I needed to know. Thanks," David started to shut the door.
"Wait, please."
David wondered if there would ever come a time when he didn't respond to that note in Nick's voice. To cover the effect it had on him, he fixed Nick with his coldest stare.
"David..." Nick met his gaze without blinking. "I don't know why I do half the things I do anymore, but I know--I know that one of the reasons I went out with you a second time, one of the reasons I like being with you...David, with you--it's the only time I can be sure I'm not going to think about Warrick."
Oh.
It was far from perfect, but perfect would have only made David suspicious.
He stepped back from the door, making room for Nick to pass. "Lucky for you I haven't had my breakfast yet," he said and was rewarded with a tentative smile.
"You and Hodges?" Sara remarked casually.
"Uh...yeah," Nick glanced at her, but she was busy sorting through their victim's paperwork, making several piles. He went back to highlighting suspect calls on the phone bills. "Where did you hear?"
"Greg mentioned it. Here's another phone bill--different company."
"Thanks," Nick added it to his "unchecked" pile--he would sort them by company when he was finished checking the numbers.
"I think Greg heard it from Archie."
Nick nodded--he doubted David had told all the other techs, that just didn't seem like him. True, Bobby had been giving him speculative looks even before the non-breakfast as Sirk's, but for David to tell everyone? More likely the techs found out using whatever arcane means by which they always seemed to know lab gossip before anyone else.
He and David had gone out several times in the last few weeks, and anyone could have seen them. They hadn't tried to keep it a secret. Their jobs were separate enough that a relationship wouldn't be considered a conflict of interest. And Nick didn't mind people knowing, really, beyond the usual discomfort he felt at his personal life being the subject of gossip. He hadn't cared much when his one-night stands were commonly discussed, but he didn't want whatever was between he and David to become fodder for the rumor mill.
"I'm glad you stopped...whatever the hell you were doing before," Sara commented. She could have been discussing the weather.
Nick couldn't help grinning, "Me, too."
Sara was the only one of his teammates to ask Nick outright. Greg just gave him teasing or knowing looks whenever he mentioned getting results from Hodges, to which Nick would merely shake his head and continue working. Catherine barely blinked and easily tossed "you and David" into their usual conversations as though it was perfectly normal. If Grissom knew at all, and Nick suspected he probably did, he gave no sign of it. Warrick, other than an odd look or two, didn't seem to have much of an opinion. That could have been because they hadn't spent any time together outside of work since Nick forced himself to suggest that belated bachelor party. It was something of a relief, because Nick wasn't entirely sure how he'd react to Warrick's reaction. Nick kept telling himself that even without the complications of his feelings, their friendship would have changed after Warrick's marriage--most friendships did.
That didn't make it any easier.
What did make it easier was spending more time in David's company, because what Nick had told David about not thinking of Warrick when they were together still held true. Even when he wasn't doing things to Nick's body that turned his mind to mush, David was perfectly capable of keeping Nick on his toes.
By the end of the first week, during which they'd spent the majority of their off hours together, Nick had realized that if he was going to learn anything about David Hodges, he was going to have to pay attention. To what David said, because although David could spout, ramble or even brag endlessly, most of it was snark and he rarely revealed what he was actually thinking or feeling. Even more, to what David did, because though they often seemed to be completely at odds with what he said, David's actions were what revealed the man. Nick knew this was true of most people, that what they did was more indicative of character than what they said, but David seemed to take it to a new and strange level.
That discovery was a relief to Nick because it meant that he hadn't been imposing on David when he would stay. The care, the towels, the coffee had all meant Nick had been welcome to remain at David's. All of these considerations--except the coffee--continued, the only difference being that now David was almost always there as well. Rarely in the bed--Nick still slept more deeply--but in the house somewhere. Most often, David would be in the kitchen and he would greet Nick with, "I suppose you want some coffee," and Nick would give him a quick kiss before accepting a cup. The first few times he did this, David looked at him as though he was crazy, but now it was something of a habit. If they were at Nick's, then it was--"Remind me to get you some decent coffee," as he accepted a cup and Nick's kiss.
Accepted, because unless it was going to lead to sex, David rarely initiated physical contact. He didn't seem to mind it, always reciprocated it, and after the first few weeks, he began to offer it when he knew Nick would enjoy it--along with some sarcastic comment, of course. What David didn't do was give the slightest indication that he particularly wanted or needed it.
Nick didn't let that stop him, though, partly on the off-chance that David did need and want it, but mostly because Nick simply couldn't spend so much time with some he cared about and not show his affection through touch.
That's just what Nick was doing one early afternoon some three months after their first date. They'd passed the morning with simple, enjoyable sex--something Nick thought David needed to become more accustomed to. It wasn't that Nick didn't enjoy it when David took over and did things that brought him to the brink of sanity, but he also liked being coherent enough to make sure David enjoyed himself and having enough energy after to do something besides snore.
They were in Nick's bed, Nick curled in close while David idly toyed with his hair. Nick nuzzled David's shoulder, and his eye fell on the barbell-shaped scar. "How did you get that?"
"What?" David sounded drowsy--Nick liked that. He liked that David was able to relax in his bed, because much of the time David still seemed to be on his guard.
"This scar."
"Oh." David yawned before continuing, "Would you believe I was bitten on a safari when I was twenty?"
What?! Nick was just about to bombard David with dozens of questions when he realized exactly what David had said. He propped himself up on one elbow. "No."
David's eyebrows rose. "No?"
"No, I wouldn't believe you were bitten on a safari when you were twenty."
David grinned at him. Not his usual smirk or that smug, superior smile, but an honest-to-God grin that lit the grey eyes and made him look years younger.
Nick couldn't help but grin back. "David..."
"Sounds better than saying I got if from a bad cast."
"A bad cast?" That sounded pretty strange in itself.
"I was...nine?" David frowned in remembrance. "No, eight, because my parents were together. My dad took me to the lake to do some fishing--I was just getting the hang of casting. One time I went to cast and my hook got caught."
"Ow."
One corner of David's mouth kicked up. "That's not the best part. The best part is that I registered that my hook had got caught somewhere, but not exactly where, so I tried to yank it free. That's when I realized where it was caught."
Nick winced in sympathy.
"Then I freaked--which I thought was what you were supposed to do in that situation--and my dad couldn't get near me before I pulled the thing right through. Six stitches, three hours of my mom giving my dad hell for it and a week off from gym class."
"Poor baby," Nick clucked, kissing the scar.
David gave him an arch look.
With another quick kiss, Nick settled back against him and felt David's fingers in his hair again almost immediately. He mulled over the fact that David's parents were obviously divorced, but only briefly. Mostly Nick wondered what exactly it was going to take to see that real smile on David's face again.
He'd been right, of course.
If there was the option of physical contact, then that was the option Nick inevitably chose. Nick was uncomfortable with PDAs, though, for which David was grateful, but there were plenty of private displays of affection. Why just sit and watch television when you could do so with your head on someone's shoulder or in their lap? And if you happen to be close enough to touch someone, then why not kiss them, too?
David usually shrugged and went along--there were certainly more difficult things to adjust to than cuddling with Nick Stokes.
"Dreaming about anyone in particular?"
David was able to catch himself before he jerked his head away from the microscope, and looked up as though Greg hadn't caught him off guard.
"Anyone I might know?" Greg grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye.
"What are you doing here?" David asked as though he hadn't heard Greg's query "I won't have your results for another few hours."
The teasing look changed to one of indignation. "A few hours? I dropped that off with you as soon as shift started."
"Oh, you mean this isn't Be An Unprofessional Day? Considering your questions--"
Greg rolled his eyes. "I was just showing concern for a colleague. How much can you do in your sleep?"
The question immediately brought David back to the previous day. He had awakened and was spooned up behind Nick, who was still sleeping after their morning's activities. Not willing to get up just yet, David pressed his face into the crook of Nick's neck, inhaling deeply.
Nick murmured something indistinct and pressed back against him. With a smile, David ran a hand down Nick's flank, prompting a purring sound from the Texan. Then Nick shifted his hips so his ass was nestled firmly against David's crotch, taking David from half to fully erect.
"Nick?" he whispered, wondering if the man was awake and teasing.
"S'good, yeah?" Nick mumbled, stretching languidly.
David grinned against Nick's shoulder, then slid his hand to grasp Nick's cock. It only took a couple of strokes before Nick was erect as well. "You awake now?"
"Mmm..."
Lifting his head, David peeked over at Nick's face. The Texan was smiling, but definitely still asleep. With a sigh, David released Nick's erect member and rested his hand on a firm butt cheek instead. He always wondered about proceeding in this situation, even though it was so, so tempting.
"Why y'stoppin'? Dav'd..?"
Hell with it. David wasn't sure how awake Nick was, but he seemed to enjoy what was happening and who was doing it, so David reached over him to get a condom. He wrapped his other arm around Nick from underneath and began caressing his chest.
With brief flash of gratitude to St. Perry's for learning the knack of opening and putting on a condom one-handed, David moved his hand down Nick's thigh to the back of his knee. He tickled the area slightly and got a little moan out of Nick as he coaxed that leg forward.
"How're you doing, Nick?" David bit gently on Nick's earlobe.
"M'good..."
David checked and found Nick was still loosened from earlier, so it took almost no effort to slide in completely.
Nick let out a long, breathless groan.
Oh, God... David closed his eyes and fumbled forward to take Nick in hand again, pumping in a slow, languorous rhythm and matching his own thrusts. He felt as though he would be perfectly happy to stay on the brink and maintain this pace forever. Almost too soon, he felt warmth on his hand as Nick came with a satisfied moan, and then his own release was upon him. Not the hard, heated momentum he was used to, but deep, sultry pulses of coma-inducing pleasure. David buried his face in Nick's hair, trying to hold on to those sensations.
"David?" Nick was slightly more coherent.
"Hmm?" was all David could manage.
"Whazzit called?"
What? "What?"
"S'name for it, yeah? Doin' it asleep?"
"What the hell?"
"How'm I gonna ask ya t'do it again sometime?"
Another grin got away from David and he thought it was probably a good thing Nick had his eyes shut, what with all the dopey smiling he'd been doing. "I think you just did," he said, and kissed the nape of Nick's neck.
"Cool."
The best thing about memories? They could be relived in mere seconds if need be. Especially if, say, there was a rookie CSI who still needed chasing out of one's lab. David prepared to send another scathing remark in Greg's direction, but he forgot about it when he looked at the younger man. Greg's eyes were wide and a blush stained his cheeks.
David only had a moment to wonder what sort of expression the memory had put on his face before Greg cleared his throat. "I'll uh, I'll be back for my result later," he said, then beat a hasty retreat.
Bending back over the scope, David allowed himself a smirk. Who knew scaring off Greg Sanders would be one of the extra benefits to this whole cuddling thing?
David unlocked his car door, but when he tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. For a split-second he wondered just how tired he was, but then he saw the hand braced against the window. Annoyed, David leaned against the door and folded his arms. He'd just finished a double and then some and was so exhausted he'd almost considered calling Nick to say he wouldn't be by. But Nick had worked three doubles and a triple with only four-hour breaks in between, so David figured if Nick still had the energy for them to get together, he could muster up more from somewhere, too. The last thing he needed was to have a discussion--and he knew exactly what it would be about--with Warrick Brown.
"I want to talk to you."
David yawned, hoping to get the point across that he really didn't need this right now.
"What are you doing?"
"Well, I was getting into my car."
Warrick frowned, "You know what I mean."
There was no way this conversation was going to go well, David knew, so he remained silent.
"Look, this isn't even about you, okay? It's just that Nick isn't ready for anything serious."
Smirking was a bad idea. David knew it by the way Warrick's expression darkened, but he couldn't help himself.
"This isn't the best thing for him right now."
Translation: You aren't the best thing for him. "Really," David tried to sound bored, but was unable to keep the edge out of his voice.
Warrick ignored it. "With everything Nick's gone through, he needs to be out there enjoying himself. Living life to the fullest, y'know?"
The man had left an opening wide enough to drive a tractor through, so David went for it. "Are you sure this isn't about you living vicariously through Nick now that you've managed to shackle yourself?" Then he watched as Warrick made a concerted effort to keep his temper.
"It's not that I think you're a bad guy," Warrick said, although his tone was dubious. "I just don't want Nick getting into something he's not ready for." He kept pausing as though expecting David to jump in. David refused to give him the satisfaction. "I know he doesn't show it, but he's still shaky sometimes. I just don't want him getting hurt."
There was nothing Warrick could have said that would have pissed David off more. "What the hell makes you think he wasn't getting hurt before he started seeing me?"
Warrick froze. "What?"
David took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "Have you said everything you wanted to say?"
"What do you mean hurt?" Warrick demanded. "Who? You mean some of those other guys he was with?"
"Here's an idea--why don't you ask Nick?"
Warrick looked away, "We haven't really hung out together lately."
David wasn't sure if he was implying anything, but just in case--"Don't try to pin that on me."
"I wasn't," Warrick looked troubled. "We just haven't talked much since...well."
Although he knew Warrick was honestly trying to protect Nick, it didn't make David feel any less hostile. He was tempted to just blurt out that Nick had been harboring feelings for more than a year, but that would have been an appalling betrayal of Nick's trust. Besides, it would be just his luck that upon hearing it, Warrick would suddenly, miraculously realize he felt the same way.
David didn't want to dwell on that possibility too long. "Are you done?"
"Hurt how?"
"I don't know, okay?" David sighed. "It's just a couple of things he's let slip."
"Is that where you're going now? To meet Nick?"
"Yes. Not that it's any of your business."
Warrick nodded his agreement. "Won't keep you any longer, then," he said quietly.
He watched Warrick walk to his SUV with his hands shoved deeply into his jacket pockets. With adrenaline still coursing through him despite the non-confrontation, David wasn't sure whether he wanted to go to Nick's, bend the Texan over a chair and make absolutely certain who Nick was thinking about or just drop his seat back and sleep for a solid ten hours. It occurred to him that he could probably do both, so he started the engine and sped toward West Charleston.
It left David inexplicably pleased that Nick opened the door before he'd even finished knocking--it was as though Nick was eager to see him. Standing aside, Nick let him in, then gave him a tight hug and a soft kiss. Keeping his plan in mind, David deepened the kiss and began roaming beneath Nick's shirt before Nick had the door shut.
Nick went along for several moments, but when David intensified things a bit more, he pulled back slightly. "Easy, David...just...whoa."
David stopped, but didn't release Nick.
"I--I'm kinda tired...I don't really--it's been a rough week."
That was a massive understatement. It had been an absolutely horrendous week. The kind of week that, thankfully, rarely happened more than once a year. The kind of week that made David want to write off the human race completely. The kind of week that left cops and CSIs despairing of ever making a dent in the evil that surrounded them. The cases even got to the techs, despite the glass walls that usually kept them slightly removed, and the week had been absolute hell for the CSIs.
Normally, cases involving children were handed out so that no CSI was weighed down with too many. That had been impossible during this week. Nick had drawn two particularly ghastly cases that had even shaken the hell out of stone-faced Vartann. Obviously, just the volume of horror made this different from the MacBride case, when someone had actually been saved.
So really, Nick's--"I'm not exactly in the mood..." shouldn't have come as a big surprise.
David let go and stepped back, but that only made Nick look more troubled. "Next time just call and say you want to crash."
"I..." Nick frowned. "I can't sleep yet...I'm still too--I know you must be wiped, too, so I thought we could just...unwind. Relax and then get some sleep."
"I thought you CSIs got together after shift for that," David wondered why he was arguing with something that sounded like a brilliant idea. "Help each other shake off the worst of it."
"Yeah," Nick agreed. "I did the other day--you had your double to work, and Greg had a case that really--well, Sara and I went home with him. But now you're off, and I'd rather..." He winced, "I guess I wasn't thinking..." Nick's voice trailed off, and he looked a bit dazed, making David wonder whether he was seeing the slaughtered five-year-old boy or the shattered body of the infant girl in his mind's eye.
David could have cheerfully kicked his own ass for letting his own fears and paranoia get the better of him. "What kind of beer you got?"
"Shiner Bock," Nick smiled slightly.
"That'll do."
Neither man suggested food, and after a couple of sips, David decided he didn't particularly want the beer, either. They were on the sofa, Nick leaning back against his chest while David kept one arm around him. Then Nick handed David his beer as well, and David set it on the end table next to his own, noting that it had barely been touched. Nick settled himself more comfortably and put his own hand over the one David was resting on his chest. The television was off and neither of them were inclined to speak. Instead, they were both content to let the sound of their combined breathing lull away the week's horrors.
David had no idea how long they remained there, but at some point Nick murmured, "We're unwound enough to sleep, yeah?" Then they both stumbled to the bedroom and fell asleep in a tangle of leaden arms and legs.
It wasn't until days later that David realized he'd barely thought about his conversation with Warrick. As a man used to dwelling on the discouraging things in life, he wasn't sure what to make of that.
Nick shook his head, not exactly sure what David was hoping to accomplish. "Y'know, if we'd just invited them to join us like I wanted, you could have saved all the energy you've put into glaring across the whole diner."
"Sit with us? Are you out of you mind?" David replied, but at least turned his attention back to their empty plates.
"I thought you got along with Bobby," Nick frowned. David and the ballistics expert seemed pretty tight the few times Nick had seen them interact.
"Of course I get along with Bobby," David snorted. "Find me someone who doesn't get along with Bobby."
"So...it's Gideon?" Nick glanced over at the man who was admonishing the little girl at his side not to take such big bites--that's what it looked like, anyway. "He seems like a nice guy," he added, although he didn't know Bobby's partner well at all.
Not as well as David, apparently. "When it comes to interrogation, the man makes Captain Brass look like a piker, except Brass probably doesn't lecture the perp afterward."
"Well...sometimes he does," Nick admitted.
"For a half-hour?"
"Ah...no," Nick chuckled. "Seriously? He lectures you? I think I'd pay to see that." That earned him a fairly serious glare of his own.
"He's gonna find a way to corner me in a day or two, anyway," David sounded disgruntled. "Why spend anymore time then I have to having advice heaped upon me?"
"About what?" Nick asked, and when the possibility occurred to him, he could hardly believe it. "About me?"
David was probably one of the few people on the planet, Nick reflected, who could give sarcastic looks.
"But he doesn't know me. We've only met a few times."
"Don't think for a minute that Bobby doesn't keep the man informed about all the interactions among the labrats and CSIs."
"So...what? Gideon warned you off me or something?" Nick joked and was shocked when David shrugged. Maybe it was horribly vain of him, but he was surprised to hear of the possibility of someone disapproving him as a potential partner for a friend. It was something that he really couldn't remember happening before, not even when he had his most irresponsible year in the frat house. Something else Nick didn't expect was the tiny, pleased feeling that zipped through him, making him grin. "You mean...he said not to go out with me? I mean, y'know, expressed his disapproval?" Nick snickered again because he sounded like Ozzie Nelson.
"It's disturbing how happy that makes you."
"No, it's just..." Nick leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. "Nothing like that ever happened to me before." That comment got him another of those looks. "I mean, I'm too boring for anyone to worry about like that. And it's a little bit cool."
David stared at him blankly, then smirked. Nick watched as the smirk almost turned into That Grin, but didn't quite make it before wryness twisted it again.
Damn.
"Congratulations, there's a first time for everything."
Nick was about to comment on that when he noticed a small figure approaching their table, he nodded to David who frowned but then followed his gaze.
"Hello, Ms. Dawson-Riggs," David said, surprising Nick because he didn't alter his normally dry tone when addressing the six-year-old. "Did your fathers send you over with a white napkin of truce?"
The child didn't seem bothered by it as she fixed David with solemn blue eyes. "You're being funny, right?"
Nick nearly choked on his coffee.
"Actually, I was going for droll," David deadpanned.
"Oh," she obviously had no idea what that meant.
"Are you going to sit down, Teghan?" Nick invited.
"Yep," Teghan said and climbed into the booth next to David. "Daddy said it was okay for me to come over and see you."
"He was right," David agreed.
"I heard him and Papa talking about why we didn't come and eat with you," Teghan went on. "That you weren't mad or anything."
Nick watched her with interest, she was surprisingly grown-up for six, and he realized that David changing his manner would probably be something of an insult for her.
"Really? And what did they say about it?"
"David," Nick kicked him under the table.
"Well..." Teghan chewed the inside of one chubby cheek as she considered. "Daddy said you just didn't want Papa to have any more fathers. I don't know what that means."
David actually looked bewildered as he exchanged a glance with Nick. "He said what?"
"That you didn't want Papa to have any more fathers for lectures."
"Are you sure he didn't say fodder?" David asked, sounding a little put out.
Nick buried his grin in his coffee cup.
"Oh." Teghan thought about that. "Maybe. What's that mean?"
"Ask your Papa," David suggested. "He'll know. Apparently, he's omnipotent."
The waitress stopped by with the check, which Nick picked it up before David could and Teghan hopped back down. "Time to go," she observed.
"Looks like," David got up as well.
"'Kay. Bye."
"Later, Tegs," David said.
"Bye, Teghan," Nick added, watching her heading back to her fathers who also looked ready to leave. Then he felt the check slip from his fingers. "David..." he sighed, following the chemist to the register.
Rather than arguing, David merely ignored Nick's protests as he paid and his complaints as they walked back to the car where he said, "You done being all well-mannered now, or do you want to walk?"
"I guess I'm done," Nick said, opening his door. He stopped when he saw Gideon hurrying toward them, his expression dark. "Uh...David?"
"Was that necessary?" Gideon demanded.
David glanced at Nick, then looked back at Gideon. "Well, yes, actually. I think it's illegal to leave without paying."
Nick barely kept from rolling his eyes. That was probably not going to make Gideon any less pissed off.
"Look," Gideon continued. "If you have a problem with me voicing my opinion, you really should have told me yourself."
David arched an eyebrow. "I have. Repeatedly."
"David..." Gideon's normally calm demeanor was gone. "Using my daughter? Sending her with a message like that? What the hell is wrong with you?"
"What?" David's eyes widened as he realized how the serious situation was. "Using..? Gideon, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"It was actually kind of sick, David. What were you thinking?"
Nick looked from David who seemed utterly bewildered, to Bobby and Teghan who were hurrying toward them.
"I'm not following you at all," David protested. "What did she say?"
Gideon glanced over his shoulder, then got back in David's face. "You told my daughter I was impotent? What the hell would prompt you to do that?"
David stared blankly, then choked a few times. By the time Bobby and Teghan arrived, he was leaning against the car, helpless with laughter.
Nick swallowed his own laughter before it got out of hand, since someone had to explain to Gideon--David obviously couldn't. But he was distracted by the sight of David laughing and for a moment forgot about everything else. If David truly grinning was distracting, David truly laughing was something else entirely. He looked relaxed and carefree and made Nick think things that he probably shouldn't be thinking in the presence of co-workers and their families.
"David!" Gideon barked. Bobby arrived and put a hand on his shoulder, and Gideon calmed visibly.
"What's funny?" Teghan asked, making Nick blink back to the current situation.
"Uh...Gideon," he said, because David was still beyond speech. "David told Teghan you were omnipotent."
"Yeah," Teghan agreed.
Bobby snickered a few times before giving in as well. Gideon dropped his head, and after a few seconds, his shoulders began to shake with silent laughter.
David recovered enough to add--"Now you've got a whole bunch of new words to explain to her." Then he was off again as he practically fell in behind the wheel.
"You okay to drive?" Nick grinned, getting in the passenger side.
"Yeah," David took several deep breaths, then pointed to Teghan. "I owe you, Ms. Dawson-Riggs," he told her. "Big time. Anything you want, you call me next week and you've got it."
"Okay!" Teghan agreed immediately.
"David!" Bobby and Gideon both protested.
"Hey," David waved them off. "You can't put a price on entertainment like that." He let out another laugh and closed the door before they could say anything else.
"Hey, David?" Nick ventured once they were away.
"Yeah?" David was still chuckling occasionally.
"How about we just skip the movie?" Nick suggested and waited anxiously for his answer.
David shot him a speculative look and his eyebrows rose again. "Oh sure, this way you don't have to pay for anything," he complained, but turned onto a street that would take them back to his townhouse.
"I told you not to say anything," Bobby was still smiling as Gideon drove them home.
"Oh, shut up," Gideon said amiably, his own lips twitching.
"It was worth it, though." Bobby added, running a hand through Gideon's glossy black hair.
"Worth it?"
"You were watching David laughing?"
"Yeah," Gideon nodded slowly. "I was waiting for him to stop so I could tell him off again."
"Well, I was watching Nick watch David laughing."
"Ahh..." Gideon smiled in understanding. "And..?"
"It's not often you get to see the moment someone goes head over heels."
"Really?"
"Oh, yeah," Bobby's grin widened.
"Well, well," Gideon glanced at their daughter in their rear-view mirror. "You're quite the little matchmaker, aren't you?" he asked her.
Teghan frowned in return. "How can I make them? I'm not even allowed to play with them."
After his pseudo-confrontation with Warrick, Catherine's more subtle interrogation the following week was actually enjoyable. Of course, it was a few days after the whole omnipotence fiasco, and David still chuckled whenever he thought about it. Adding to his good mood, Nick had been very adventurous when they got back to his place and for a few days after. Nick Stokes in an especially frisky mood made being grouchy impossible.
That Catherine--unspoken CSI den mother, although she'd kill anyone who suggested it--was asking him questions instead of asking Nick suggested the CSIs were taking this whole thing more seriously. With that in mind, he was able to remain civil--for him--in response to more of Greg's gleeful inquiries and Sara's blunt questions when their turns at interrogation came during the following week. It almost seemed as though Nick's friends were attempting to move past the point of merely tolerating him for Nick's sake. When David wasn't busy being worried about the implications of that, he was actually fairly happy.
That should have been his first clue.
It was barely noticeable at first. Nick began acting a bit odd, constantly cracking jokes that were more Greg Sanders' style and trying to make everything funny. Fortunately, he gave up after a couple of weeks, but it did herald more changes that David found disturbing.
As glad as he was that the ridiculous, over-the-top jokes had stopped, in their place were bouts of brooding that weren't any more normal for Nick than the new so-called humor. They were something David found easier to understand, though, when he considered everything Nick had to deal with. If he was going to be perfectly honest, long silences were definitely preferably to lame jokes.
That didn't worry David nearly as much as what happened over the next several week. Around the time of Teghan's mix-up, he and Nick had been seeing each other for nearly five months, and most of that time, they were either at work or together. That began to change--not noticeably at first, but by the time they'd passed the six-month mark, they had gone from spending five or six days a week to two or three together. It wasn't that David kept track or anything, just something he happened to notice.
David tried not to worry about it too much, because when they were together things were better than ever. In the bedroom they'd struck a balance between Nick's relaxed playfulness and the more intense edge David enjoyed. Out of the bedroom, Nick was even more affectionate. Before long, David's innate pessimism began to assert itself and whisper that Nick had to be compensating for something. He had narrowed it down to the fact that Nick was either seeing someone else--And we all know who that would be, don't we? he'd think snidely--or that Nick had merely been getting the hang of an actual relationship again and was ready to find someone more suited to him than a bitter, greying, sarcastic chemist. Even if that chemist can make him scream like a banshee, David reminded himself, but without his customary smugness. It was tough to feel smug when he recalled that also during the past weeks, Nick had been more relaxed in Warrick's presence than David had seen him for a long time.
People at the LA Crime Lab used to tell David--to his face, no less--that he thought he was entitled. What had annoyed him most about that was that they said it like it was a bad thing. Everyone was entitled to certain things--even if not everyone got them. And if he was willing to make an extra effort, wasn't he entitled to something in return? If he worked his ass off at his job, wasn't he entitled to respect for it? If he made a point not to act like an idiot, wasn't he entitled to get pissed off at the people who did? If he dedicated himself to a relationship, wasn't he entitled to the same in return?
Damn straight.
No one was going to do this for him--he'd learned that early on--so if he wanted to keep from getting the runaround and avoid being made to look like a fool, it was up to him to take care of it.
On the other hand, if Nick had a perfectly good reason for his recent behavior, then David was being an idiot. He didn't want to ruin what he had just because of his natural inclination to expect the worst.
But he'd seen people who hung onto relationships that had turned sour. He'd mocked people who hung onto relationships that had turned sour. That certainly wasn't going to be him.
So what were his options? Losing Nick by jumping to conclusions or being laughed at for trying to hold onto a guy everyone assumed was out of his league. What great choices.
What the hell was he supposed to do with that?
David grumbled as he gathered up his stuff in preparation to finishing his shift. He muttered an indistinct greeting to the new guy on day shift trace. Why Ecklie didn't put Henry in there permanently was beyond him. Sure, the young chemist was great at jumping in and picking up slack wherever he was needed--Henry could acquaint himself with a case faster than anyone David had ever seen--but constantly changing shifts was bound to burn the kid out. Then they'd be stuck with a series of moronic newbies to break in again.
"So...breakfast, yeah? Steak and eggs at Sal's?"
David stopped in the doorway of the locker room when he heard that familiar twang. Then his stomach plummeted when he heard a chuckle in response.
"Man, do you know how long it's been since we've been there? Hell, they probably have a new wait staff."
"Which means no more free coffee and crullers for you," Nick laughed.
"That's not me anymore, bro. You know that by now."
David decided he didn't really need anything from his locker, anyway.
What else was necessary? An anvil dropping on his head à la Wile E. Coyote?
Not for David Hodges.
David didn't expect to be able to sleep when he got home, which meant that unless he found something to do, the day was going to be endless. There had been no overtime shifts to pick up--crime in Vegas had dropped back to normal levels. Determined to pass the time by doing anything except thinking about Nick, he started in on some of his more hated chores.
It worked--for the most part. It didn't keep his mind completely off Nick, but at least he was getting something done. Besides, he told himself as noon approached, he didn't really have reason to expect a call from Nick. So what if they spoke on the phone nearly every day whether they got together or not? That didn't mean Nick was obligated to call him any more than David was obligated to call Nick. And one thing he definitely wasn't going to do was start calculating who called whom more often.
When his phone actually did ring, David nearly jumped out of his skin. Maybe, just maybe, the lab did need someone to work overtime. "Hello?"
"Hey. Good. I was worried you might be asleep."
Nick. It was Nick. He'd spent so much time adamantly telling himself that Nick wouldn't call that he was caught off guard.
"David?"
He cleared his throat. "Yeah."
"I meant to catch up with you after shift, but I missed you. You cut out early?"
"Something like that."
There were a few beats of silence on Nick's end. "Okay. Um...well, did you want to get together?"
"Now," David confirmed, although he knew he sounded blank.
"Well...yeah. Were you getting ready to crash or something?"
"No." David knew his voice was tight and pissed off, but that was better than risking a choke or shake creeping in.
"David?" Nick sounded uncertain.
"Yeah?"
"Do you mind if I come by?"
"No." Might as well get it over with.
"Okay," Nick hesitated again. "Okay, I'll be over in about twenty."
"Fine," David said, and hung up.
He considered taking a quick shower before Nick got there--he was feeling a bit grimy after all his cleaning. Then he shrugged off the idea. What the hell was the point now?
David regretted that decision briefly when Nick arrived, cheerful but concerned, and greeted him with a kiss. "Hi," Nick's smile faded when David didn't respond. "You okay?"
"Of course."
"Oh," Nick gave him a searching look. "Um...I was looking for you after shift to tell you I was going for breakfast with Warrick."
David blinked, briefly thrown to hear Nick say it so easily. "I know."
"Oh." Nick frowned again. "Okay, well...I think maybe we need to--can we sit?"
Thankful for the iciness that seemed to have enveloped him, David moved to the sofa. Without that chill he might be tempted to think of all the pleasurable hours he and Nick had spent on said sofa. That could possibly make him react, and whatever happened, however Nick decided to end it, he wasn't going to react. Over? No big deal. It was just sex, but you wanted to throw that other stuff in. Your loss. See you around, pretty boy.
"It was...a little weird."
David raised an eyebrow at the non-sequiter.
"Breakfast. See, I've been doing a lot of thinking and--"
"What a nice change that must be for you."
Nick drew back slightly, obviously stung.
David gritted his teeth, determined not to give in to the surprised hurt on Nick's face. Even when they'd first met, even before they'd started talking in a friendly manner, David had never actually let his sarcasm cross over into a personal attack with Nick, and certainly never in that freezing cold voice. It had never seemed right in the face of Nick's friendly nature, and was particularly cruel now. David had to will himself not to immediately apologize.
"What's going on?" Nick asked quietly.
Not answering was practically the same as sulking, and that was one thing David didn't want to give the appearance of. He wanted to be aloof and uncaring. Unfortunately, his voice had other ideas and had momentarily abandoned him.
"David," Nick made another attempt. "I know I've been bad company lately--for a while, really. It's been--I've tried--" He stopped, looking slightly lost. "Okay." A deep breath. "One of the reasons--there were a lot, but one of the reasons I never told Warrick how I felt was because--" He glanced at David and promptly floundered again.
David felt a spiteful satisfaction in the knowledge that his coldest look still had an effect.
"Because I always hoped that...that if I ever got over it, we'd be able to go back to the way things were before, y'know?"
Frowning, David didn't reply, waiting until Nick said something he expected to hear so that he'd know what to say.
Nick was watching him, and his shoulders slumped when David still didn't respond. "I didn't tell you when I first noticed because...I mean--oh, jeez, it still sounds dumb to say this, but about...uh, a month, I guess...a month now that it's not so bad to be around Rick anymore--not so painful." He ducked his head, obviously embarrassed at having to put it into words. "And I thought things could start getting back to--but that was stupid of me because they can't. Of course they can't, right?"
David almost felt as though Nick was speaking a different language.
"So Warrick didn't know, and I'm pretty much over whatever I felt, but--I'm stupid for not seeing it before." Nick's words began to tumble out faster. "I'm always going to be the one who got buried and he's always going to be the one who could have been, but wasn't and that's always going to be there, no matter what either of us try to do about it." He stopped, swallowed, and went on in a low voice, "I didn't even realize that was there until my stuff wasn't anymore."
At that moment all David could do was offer up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity watched over moronic chemists for making him keep his mouth shut throughout Nick's admission. He felt ill at the thought of what could have happened if he'd started spitting out all the venom that had been brewing inside him.
Nick shifted on the sofa, looking unnerved by David's continued silence. "And after that, it didn't take long to see that even without that other stuff, things weren't going to be the same. The last time he and I hung out, we were a couple of single guys. Now he's married and I'm out so...I guess I've just been..." his voice trailed off and he shrugged.
Grieving. Grieving. He's been grieving, you lousy, suspicious bastard! David cursed himself. From the day this thing went beyond sex, he's been nothing but honest with you and you're ready to rip him to shreds over something you made up. Blood always runs true, doesn't it, Davey-boy?
"David, are you going to say anything? Ever?"
David had plenty of things he wanted to say, preferably while peppering Nick with penitent kisses. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you can't get back your old friendship with Warrick. And I don't care how bad you think your company is, it's always better than being without you. And oh God, you have to forgive me for trying to deliberately hurt you when I know you'd never do anything to deliberately hurt me. He didn't say any of those things, of course. All he said was--"You really make it damn difficult to be a pessimist," and that sounded cryptic even to his ears.
Nick's frown became puzzled. "Okay. Umm...am I supposed to say thank you or apologize?"
"Oh, Jesus," David rubbed his forehead. "Whatever you do, don't apologize."
"David...is it about breakfast with Warrick? Because to be perfectly honest, I don't think it's something that's going to happen all that often."
"Nick, you don't have to--"
"We're still friends--good friends--but I don't think we're buddies anymore, y'know?"
Dear God, and he'd thought nothing could be more painful that hearing Nick say it was over? Since when did how much he hurt depend on how much Nick hurt, anyway?
"Is it that? Or--? Just give me a little help here, David."
"It's nothing you've done," David said, trying to give Nick as much assurance as he could. "It's my problem. It was my problem before we got together and--" --it'll be my problem long after you're gone. David managed to catch himself before he completed that thought, knowing it probably wouldn't go over well. "It's something I'm working on."
Nick still looked vaguely troubled, "Are you sure there's nothing I can do?"
David finally gave in partially to the urge that had been plaguing him and reached over to brush his fingers along Nick's cheek. The dark eyes widened--hardly surprising, considering it was not the sort of caress David was prone to. "I'll let you know, okay?"
His expression softening, Nick nodded.
They sat in silence for several minutes and David took the opportunity to steady himself a little mentally. When he thought his voice would sound somewhat normal he said, "I spent the morning cleaning. I swear my fridge had take out that's been hanging out here longer than you have." He was relieved to see a tiny smile curl Nick's lips. "So I'm gonna go take a shower while you decide what you feel like doing today."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," David stood up, but before he stepped away from the sofa Nick grabbed his arm and tugged slightly. More than happy to oblige, David leaned over for a quick kiss, then continued on to the bathroom.
Standing under the steaming water, David wished it could wash away the feeling of dread the conversation brought to the surface. Apparently he hadn't escaped Ohio completely unscathed, despite his best efforts. How else could he explain his eagerness to turn on and rip to shreds someone he was supposed to care about? Who did that? Who would gladly cause pain to someone who made them so happy?
"David?"
David opened his eyes at the sound of the Texan's voice, and barely had time to register his presence in the bathroom before the shower door opened, revealing a wonderfully naked Nick Stokes.
"I've made my decision," Nick said innocently.
That's enough thinking for today, David decided gratefully, and pulled Nick in under the spray.
There was never any way of guessing what sort of mood David was going to be in.
Nick had always imagined that sort of relationship would be too turbulent to suit him. He'd seen the results of turbulent relationships in his job far too often.
David, being David, naturally found a way to contradict that. Instead of being worried about what sort of mood he would encounter, more often then not, Nick was eager to open or answer the door and find out which one it was.
On any given day, David could be all sharp wit and biting sarcasm, using and twisting words so that Nick had to dig through them to find out what exactly he was saying before the man spelled it out in that dry tone of his. Adding to this were David's utterly baffling thought processes that managed to find only two degrees of separation between the Muppets and the DaVinci Code--and that had been one of their more normal conversations.
Other times, he would seem utterly bored with everything in life. Nothing surprised him, nothing concerned him--he was completely overcome with ennui. That's when Nick would try everything he could to spark a reaction, until David either cracked a smile or--more often--grabbed him and started kissing him senseless.
Neither man ever mentioned these games, but both knew that's what they were, and both loved playing them.
There were some times, though, that had nothing to do with games. Like last week after his breakfast with Warrick when David had started out so icy and then became so tender that it took Nick's breath away. Nick thought David might be bothered by his going to the diner with Warrick--that was why he'd tried to find the chemist before leaving--but suspected there might be even more to it that David wasn't saying. Nick pushed a little, from time to time, but he knew that badgering would only make David more close-lipped.
Or there were days like today, when he barely got in the door before David had him pinned against the wall, devouring his lips and nearly tearing off his shirt. Nick did get a glimpse of David's face, and knew in an instant what he was in for. David looked genuinely angry, and more often than not, that translated into torture. Nick didn't bother trying to stop him, since David's version of torture never left any scars, either physical or emotional. Only David would think of taking out his anger on someone by making them absolutely insane with pleasure.
Nick only had a moment to wonder what had pissed David off, and then David was crouched in front of him yanking down his jeans and shorts and nuzzling his balls briefly before swirling that talented tongue around the head of his cock. That's when Nick's train of thought jumped the tracks and coherence fled.
When David's mouth engulfed him, Nick decided that he'd probably be better off in bed for this, because he knew his legs weren't going to be able to hold him up much longer. He clutched at David's shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "You're overdressed," he managed to get out before David began attacking his neck.
David didn't answer and Nick made a mental note to find out what was going on. There was no way of telling whether David was angry or upset, although there wasn't always a whole lot of difference where the chemist was concerned.
"Bedroom," Nick murmured, searching for the hem of David's shirt. "David. Bedroom."
"Yeah?" David breathed along his neck. "Let's see you walk."
Well, he had a point there. With his jeans and shorts around his ankles, Nick knew he wouldn't have gotten far before falling flat on his face. Leaning on David for balance, Nick kicked them off, and his shoes and socks for good measure. "Okay," he got back to David's shirt and the warm skin underneath. "There. Bedroom."
Between David's heated kissed and busy fingers, Nick was barely aware of his surroundings until he found himself on his back on David's bed with the owner straddling him. David was still wearing his jeans, but that was fine by Nick because the feeling of denim against his erection was fantastic. Besides David's shirt was off, so there was plenty of lean, slender muscle to explore and that was fine by Nick, too.
When their kisses began to relax into slower, deeper ones, David abruptly climbed off Nick and the bed to shed his jeans before returning to the same position. There were only a few more kisses before David began shifting down Nick's legs, tracing patterns on Nick's skin with his tongue. Knowing David, they were probably alchemical equations, Nick thought blearily. How fitting considering David was something of a wizard in this area.
Oh, God help him. David's bizarre thought processes were contagious.
Then David began working his cock again, sucking hard at the head, licking down to the base and occasionally dipping lower to mouth his balls. Nick fisted his hands in the sheets when he felt David's fingers kneading at his thighs and gently handling his balls as well. Arching his back, Nick tried to force himself to calm down--rarely did David let him get to this point so quickly. "David...I can't--I'm going to--"
David ignored the urgency in his voice, instead he began taking more and more of Nick's length into his mouth, causing Nick to fumble for the night stand. When he tried to sit up, David finally acknowledged how close he was, taking the condom and lube from him. There was a brief pause in David's actions, and Nick arched his hips up in expectation, but instead felt David deftly rolling the condom onto his erection.
Oh.
Nick had topped on occasion, but was usually more than happy to let David take the lead. And while David was always willing when Nick wanted to switch, he'd never indicated wanting to be taken before this. Just the unexpectedness of it was an incredible turn on. As David finished adding a little extra lube and prepared to move back up the length of his body, Nick gathered himself, then made his move. He caught David off guard and rolled them both so their positions were reversed.
David could give new meaning to the phrase "topping from the bottom," and Nick suddenly decided he didn't feel like letting that happen today. Bracing himself on his arms, Nick stared down into stormy, grey eyes, "Hey, this was your idea."
In response, David wrapped his arms around Nick's neck and pulled him closer for a kiss, biting at his lower lip when Nick reached for the lube again. "Already done," he said.
"You were busy down there, weren't you?" Nick grinned.
David didn't even smirk. Nick couldn't tell if he was truly angry, but the man was definitely troubled over something. He tried to move downward in order to prepare David a bit better, but David held him with surprisingly strong legs, and it was all Nick could do to position himself properly. David had taken his word in similar situations, Nick decided, so he would take David's now.
Still, he eased himself into the tight passage as slowly as possible, stopping when David's breath hissed out between gritted teeth. Then David wrapped those long legs more securely around his waist, and Nick sank in the rest of the way. Nick reached between their bodies and grasped David's erection, running his thumb over the leaking head and prompting a low growl from the man beneath him.
Nick dipped his head down, David pushed up and as their lips met, Nick began to move. He could feel David's hands skimming over his ribs and clutching at his back, occasionally slipping down to squeeze his ass and encourage him to move faster. He tried to keep a steady, even pace so it could last, but David was making that moaning sound in his throat and God, he felt so good, so hot and silky and tight and then there was more warmth on his hand as David came with a sharp cry and Jesus, don't even try to hold back anymore just let go like that because it's so so good...
David's arms were still wrapped loosely around him when Nick's breathing and heart rate finally slowed to a somewhat normal speed. Carefully, he eased himself out of David and moved off to toss the condom. Before he could return, he found himself pinned on his back as David straddled him again, his expression still stony.
Why couldn't the guy fall asleep afterward like normal people?
"What the hell is wrong with you?" David asked.
"Okay, no one likes to hear that right after sex, David."
"Since when is it CSI policy to enter a residence at a scene with only one cop--one idiot cop there as backup?"
Nick tried not to gape in surprise, "How the hell do you know ab--"
"And hey, which cop was it, Nick?"
"What?"
"Oh, Dumb Ass Michaels, you say? The cop that isn't even supposed to be on the scene with CSIs anymore?"
"What did you call him?" Nick asked, startled by all the things David knew about the case that he shouldn't, considering it had only happened a few hours before.
"What do you think DA stands for?" David asked, his dry tone returning. "Half the force calls him that now."
Nick snorted, "Well, I hadn't heard. No one ever mentions the guy to me."
"I wonder why. And after his other fabulous performance at Catherine and Warrick's crime scene, he's not supposed to work them."
"David..." Nick put his hands on David's thighs.
But David wasn't even close to finished. "And he's especially not supposed to work a scene you're working. There should have been two uniforms and a detective on the scene, at least."
Nick nodded, "Caveliere got a call while I was en route--one of his kids was taken to the hospital. I'm not sure where the other uniform was, but--"
"Oh, I'm sorry," David was using his snottiest tone, one Nick rarely heard directed at him. "You seem to think I'm asking why the house wasn't properly cleared. I'm asking why you went into a house that hadn't been properly cleared."
"It had been properly cleared," Nick insisted, getting annoyed.
"There was a baby inside, in addition to the body. Dumb Ass missed it. That is not properly cleared."
"How did you--" Nick didn't allow himself to be distracted by David knowing things in a report not even filed yet. He was tired of being lectured. "A baby is hardly anything dangerous, David."
"It's not the sign of a properly cleared scene, either," David glared down at him.
"What was I supposed to do? Wait outside?"
"Hey, what a great idea," David feigned surprise.
Enough was enough. "David, I have a job to do."
"Well, I'd like to see your job description and read where it says you're supposed to enter a possibly dangerous scene improperly cleared by a moron who is a breath away from traffic duty."
That was an interesting tidbit. "How do you know this stuff?"
"Techs know all sorts of things," David's anger was briefly replaced by his usual smugness. "And what we don't know we can usually find out."
"Why aren't you guys out there putting criminals away, then?"
"Our methods would never stand up in court."
The guy had an answer for everything. It was just as well. Nick didn't want to get into a fight over this. "Look, it was just a one-time thing."
David didn't look the least bit mollified. "Do I need to start counting how often these one-time things seem to happen?"
Nick massaged light circular patterns against David's skin, and tried to lighten the mood. "Aw, honey, it's so sweet of you to worry," he grinned.
David's expression froze, and then he abruptly moved off Nick and the bed.
"Hey! Whoa!" Nick quickly sat up and managed to catch David around the waist, pulling him down to sit on the bed. "Lord, David, you are all kinds of exhausting." He kept his arms around David, who seemed to have turned to stone. "Look, I'm sorry for joking, okay? I don't like that you worry, but I can't help liking that you care enough to worry."
"I don't care."
Nick shook his head at the man's utter stubbornness. "Just who do you think you're foolin', huh?" He rested his chin on David's shoulder, "What's the worst that could happen if you acknowledged caring? I've got no problem with it. C'mon," he kissed David's ear. "You know I'm crazy about you, right? So what's--"
"What?" David stared at him and Nick couldn't tell if he was amazed or appalled.
Okay, maybe not. Now he was wondering if he'd made a mistake saying so, but it was too late to turn back now. "David, this is the longest I've been with anyone since...jeez, college, maybe. What did you think was going on?"
"Great sex," David replied promptly.
"That, too," Nick smiled. "I hope you don't expect me to explain, because I can't. I just know I rather be with you than without you."
"Who wouldn't?"
Nick's smile widened, because David's voice quavered just a little shy of smug that time. "At the moment, I'd rather be with you under the covers. I can't believe we're having this conversation while we're just--"
"--hanging out?" David finished for him.
Nick snickered and kissed David's shoulder. "Okay?"
David nodded and they both climbed back into bed. Nick waited until David was settled, and then fitted himself snugly against the lean body, prompting a very put-upon sigh. "You know, sometimes I wonder why you just don't invest in one of those body pillows."
"Because they don't make them with extra sarcasm," Nick retorted without even thinking about it, and heard David chuckle. In that moment, Nick realized why he hadn't had any luck getting David to laugh more. He'd actually been trying, and all he'd succeeded in doing was making himself look like a bigger dork than usual. It took something unexpected and preferably absurd to put That Grin on David's face or make him laugh. Tucking that information away for later, Nick decided to address something else he was curious about--seeing as he wasn't particularly sleepy anymore. "How do you techs know all this stuff, anyway?"
"I can't disclose tricks of the trade," David replied.
"C'mon," Nick coaxed, stroking David's ribs. "The report wouldn't even have been filed before you left."
"Fine." Another one of those world-weary sighs. "This is just in this instance, though. Methods vary depending on the situation. Detective Vartann called me when he heard."
Nick frowned. That didn't tell him a damn thing. "I didn't even know you knew Vartann that well."
"I don't really," David yawned. "But just after Wendy started, he was in the lab and saw her. He asked me about the chance of getting her number, and I said I'd see what I could do."
"So you set Wendy up so Vartann would owe you a favor?"
"Nope. That's the beauty of it," David snorted. "The day before Wendy asked whether Vartann was married. I told her 'no' and she asked if I'd give him her number. So she owes me, too."
"David!" Nick let out a horrified laugh.
"Hey, if they want to play 'ask him if he likes me' as though we're in junior high, then the least they can do is make it up to me for being so good-natured about it."
Nick nuzzled against David's neck as he laughed harder, whether at David's obvious pride in his scheme or the idea of David being good-natured, he wasn't entirely certain. Once he'd settled back down to the occasional chuckle, he felt David's hand in his hair, and his body began to relax almost on cue. "Here's an idea. I won't go into any more residences that haven't been cleared by two cops, and next time you want to lecture me, you'll do it before sex so I have something to look forward to, okay?"
"I wasn't lecturing," David replied. "I was questioning your sanity."
"Well, next time question my sanity before sex."
"Then we'd never get around to anything fun."
Although most of their seventh month had definitely been bumpy, as the eighth month neared, things were much smoother. When their eighth month anniversary rolled around--Nick didn't often note anniversaries of first dates or first times, but in their case it was both--it happened to fall on a night they both had off, so Nick made reservations at Empress Court. He knew David was touched, because he'd refrained from any of his usual comments about Nick's "sentimental tendencies." Nick didn't consider himself particularly sentimental, but maybe compared to David...
Their reservations were for seven, and Nick knocked on David's door at six, then walked in without waiting for an answer, which had become the norm. Glancing around, he saw David in the kitchen, talking on the phone and pacing, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, both of which were somewhat faded. He stopped dead when he saw Nick, and Nick could tell the exact moment he remembered dinner. Nick could also tell that dinner probably wouldn't be happening, because David was looking drawn and rather pale.
"Okay, Laurel, I've got to go for now. Look, I don't know what bright idea they'll come up with, but don't...just don't, okay?" David sighed, "Okay? Yeah. Yeah, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
David didn't talk much about his family, but he had mentioned his sister--she was the only one he sounded close to. This definitely wasn't good news. Good news didn't make a person slump onto a dining chair and pinch the bridge of their nose as if warding off either tears or a migraine. "David?" Nick took a step, then stopped. "What is it?"
"Uh...I'm going to have to bail on dinner."
"David," Nick couldn't keep the hint of reproach out of his voice as moved closer. "What's going on?"
"My parents," David said numbly.
Nick crouched beside his chair. "What about them?"
"They're getting back together."
Only David Hodges could make that statement sound like a death knell.
David was relieved that he had a few seconds while Nick puzzled his comment out. He briefly considered getting changed and going out to dinner after all, but gave it up since at the moment he barely had the energy to remain upright in his chair. When Nick first mentioned the "anniversary," David had been astonished that Nick wanted to commemorate their antagonistic first date, but went along with it, glad that Nick thought it was something worth celebrating.
"David?" Nick was still crouched next to his chair, one hand on his knee.
All he had to do was lean slightly toward Nick and he would be immediately engulfed in a warm embrace. David knew that, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He wondered if he'd ever be able to let his guard down that much.
Nick wasn't easily deterred--something that David was eternally grateful for--and he reached up to begin rubbing David's neck gently. "Y'know, that's not usually bad news."
"I know." David wanted to explain, intended to explain, because he felt that was the least Nick deserved. But now several years of rash spending, slander, grandiose promises, guilt trips and potential bankruptcies stretched in front of him and he still hadn't quite absorbed it all. "It's a long story," he said lamely.
"Okay." Nick stood, but continued massaging David's neck. "You still have some of that bourbon left?"
"Yeah," David nodded. He kept a bottle of bourbon for those occasions when they didn't feel like having beer--it was the same reason Nick now kept a bottle of Stoli at his place.
Nick drew David to his feet. "Why don't you go sit on the couch and I'll bring us some drinks, yeah?"
David couldn't help wondering if he was making too big a deal about this. No one had died, after all. Hell, no one was even getting hurt--technically. "Look, I'm sorry about dinner, but--"
"Hey," Nick wrapped his arms around David's waist. "Do I look like I'm worried about dinner?"
"No." David didn't even bother pretending he'd rather be alone as he might have at one time.
"No," Nick repeated. He kissed the corner of David's mouth and gave him a gentle shove toward the living room. "I'll be there in a minute."
David sank onto his sofa and closed his eyes, mentally calculating how much money he'd be able to spare over the next few years should it become necessary. Not that his parents were going to get a red cent, but he wanted to be ready in case Laurel needed help, and she probably would since she could never say no to their parents' requests for money. Opening his eyes briefly, he saw Nick on his cell. Cancelling the reservations, he realized, closing his eyes again with a real pang of regret.
He also had to figure out something reasonable to say to his mother when she called to break the "good news" in a day or two. Something that wouldn't get him a guilt trip, but also let her know he wasn't buying into the lie, either. He didn't worry about his father, since he doubted he'd be speaking to the man. They spoke three times a year, dutifully, on Christmas and their respective birthdays. That was the way it had been since David told his parents he was gay just after his second year at Berkeley and it suited him just fine.
The sensation of cool glass slipping into his hand made David open his eyes again just in time to see Nick sit down next to him, a glass of bourbon his hand. Helplessly, David tried to think of somewhere to start. He took a sip of vodka. "Just give me a minute."
"No rush," Nick said quietly, running his fingers through David's hair.
David made a mental note to try and remember everything Nick was doing. The guy had this whole comfort thing down pat.
"It's not--" Another sip of vodka. "There's no real trouble. Not really."
Nick, being Nick, helped him along. "You said once your parents split when you were nine?"
"Yeah. And when I was three. And when I was fourteen. And about three--no, four more times since I left home."
"Oh," was all Nick said, but David could tell he'd already gotten the idea.
"It's a pathetically predictable pattern--" David snorted with sudden amusement and took another swallow. "Spontaneous alliteration."
Nick raised his eyebrows, "Okay, you'd better go slow with that drink."
David smirked briefly. "It's been the same since--well, since they got married, I guess. And if it was just separate and reunite, separate and reunite, it wouldn't be such a problem."
"So what else is it?"
After a brief hesitation, David decided there was no harm in telling Nick. Some part of him even whispered that it would feel pretty damn good. "It usually starts with money getting tight, but it could be anything--it's almost never gradual. One day they're fine, and the next they can't stand each other, and they spend the next several months arguing and spitting insults before they finally split. Then it's a year or two of fighting about divorce, with accusations and lawsuits and spending money while they each try to 'start a new life' until they both realize they can't live without each other and get back together so they can start the whole thing all over again." David knocked back a little more of his drink, "That's the short version, anyway."
"What's the long version?" Nick asked quietly.
"The long version?" David sighed heavily. "The long version is that they spend money they don't have every step of the way. When they're getting back together, the sky's the limit, and when we were kids and didn't know what was going on, that was great. Then we get older and it was easier for them to get us to answer the phone in case creditors were calling--things like that. When they're splitting, they blow another pile of money each to start over." He took a big swallow of his drink. "The first time they asked me for money--the only time--was my second year at Berkeley. I was on a scholarship, but they convinced me to lend them some, anyway."
"Whoa."
"They never paid it back, of course," David shrugged. "I made it through all right. Lived on hot dogs and mac and cheese for nearly a year. God, I hate hot dogs. Wasn't crazy about them before that, but..." He felt slightly nauseous at the memory. "The good part is that I never had a problem saying 'no' to them after that. After a while they stopped asking me." Another sip of vodka to wash away the bad taste in his mouth. "Laurel never got the hang of it."
Nick nodded slowly. "That's what you were telling her on the phone."
"Yeah. She makes a good living, but now she's going to have a baby. She doesn't need any added hassles."
"Well, what about her...husband? Or boyfriend?"
"Neither. Just a baby. She sucks at relationships, too. I think she'll do well as a mom, though," David glanced at Nick to see his reaction, but there was no sign of censure on his face, only concern. "I want her to move out here. She loves New Mexico, and frankly, the closer she lives to me, the less she'd have to deal with our parents."
Nick raised his eyebrows in question and his hand stilled against David's neck.
"Scared to death of their gay son. Think it happened at Berkeley."
A half-grin. "And Laurel?"
"Knew before I did," David replied, prompting a chuckle as well. Okay, that's good. That's most of it, and you can just stop there. That's enough for the guy to deal with right now. Hell, that's already more than you've ever told anyone before. Now that he'd started, though, it was difficult to stop. "But even all that's not as bad as the...hostility. No, that's not--hate. It's hate. The things they say to and about each other are..." he shook his head. "And then when they get back together, it's like none of it mattered. By the time I was seven I knew that had to be a crock of shit. But say anything and it's: don't you trust your parents?" David sighed and finished his drink off. "So you just wait and watch to see when it'll fall apart again and you'll have to hear them call each other the worst sort of--why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, almost before he'd completely registered Nick's expression.
Nick blinked, "Like what?"
A frisson of irritation murmured through him, although he knew much of it was probably being redirected toward Nick from elsewhere. "Like I just gave you evidence that cracked your case for you."
"No." Nick ducked his head, "Well, maybe a little." He finished off his bourbon without meeting David's gaze, and when the doorbell rang, he jumped to his feet, looking very relieved. "I'll get it," he offered.
David glared after him, but couldn't see who was on the other side. Listening to that pleasant drawl made it difficult to remember he was annoyed with Nick at the moment. So did the delicious scent that wafted into the living room as Nick closed the door and strolled over to set a large paper bag on the table.
"What the hell is this?" David demanded.
"The Empress Palace doesn't deliver, but Jasmine Thai's is almost as good."
David stared at him.
Nick took his empty glass. "I'll get us refills and a couple of plates. Everything else we need should be in there," he nodded at the box before going into the kitchen, calling back over his shoulder. "There's chopsticks in the bag, yeah?"
David scowled after him, and willed himself not to start rooting through the wonderful-smelling sack.
"Chopsticks?" Nick asked when he returned, handing David a fresh vodka and seven.
"Do you mind?" David snapped.
"No, I'll find 'em," Nick sat back down on the sofa and began unpacking the bag.
"I'm being pissed off with you, here," David pointed out in case Nick had missed that fact.
"Okay," Nick said agreeably.
Oh, hell. Why did he even bother? "Did you get cashew chicken?" he asked.
"Of course."
David leaned in to see what else Nick had ordered, and as he did, he realized that most of the tension across his neck and shoulders had eased. He decided not to reflect on the reason for that because he knew he was liable to get all sappy. David hated it when anyone got sappy, but himself most of all and it was happening more and more often. Instead, he concentrated on filling his plate and the fact that Nick smelled great. Better than usual. Better than the food.
Glancing at the Texan, he finally registered what Nick was wearing--a pale blue linen shirt that David had never seen on him before. It was impeccably fitted, and with or without a jacket, Nick probably could have still strolled into the Empress Palace and turned every head in the place. Instead, Nick had called off dinner without a murmur and was sitting next to David--who was more conscious than ever of his faded jeans and ratty tee--and acting as though there was no where else he'd rather be.
David sighed. He was still only a step away from sappy.
"David?" Nick glanced at him.
"This stuff is just as good warmed up, right?" David took Nick's plate away and set it on the coffee table.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Absolutely," David said, and kissed him.
Nick made a muffled sound of either surprise or amusement, David couldn't tell, and wrapped his arms around David's neck, returning the kiss enthusiastically.
David trailed his lips along the square jaw. "Nice shirt," he muttered, just before latching onto an earlobe and biting gently.
"Thanks." It came out as a gasp.
"I want it gone," David said as he reached for the buttons.
"You bet," Nick began undoing his cuffs while sucking industriously at David's neck.
Once he got the shirt opened, David decided there was really no need to rush. So instead, he slid the shirt part of the way off Nick's shoulders and began tracing the well-defined contours of Nick's neck and collarbones with his tongue.
"Yours, too," Nick panted.
"It's nice?" David mocked.
"It's in the way," Nick's laugh was breathless.
David stripped his t-shirt off quickly, then finished peeling Nick's from his arms and tossed them both toward the armchair. Capturing Nick's lips again, David slowly bore him back until they were lying on the sofa. Nick shifted, parting his legs slightly so their groins were pressed together, making David groan into his mouth.
This was something that was happening more and more often, as David gradually began to ease up on his "down to business" attitude toward sex. There was definitely something to be said, he'd discovered, for merely exchanging long, deep kisses and soft, soothing touches, especially when they were accompanied by those little sighs of pleasure Nick made.
David broke off the kiss and studied the relaxed features of the man beneath him. Nick opened his eyes when the kissing stopped, and smiled up at David, "Doing better?"
"To put it mildly," David brushed some of Nick's hair off his forehead, trying to think of a way to voice his gratitude. "I'll make it up to you. Dinner, I mean."
"Don't be ridiculous," Nick smoothed a hand up David's spine. "Make up what?"
Something about Nick's expression, the gentle smile on his lips, awakened tiny but vicious motes of anxiety in David's stomach. He tried to ignore them and forced a smile.
"David," Nick gave him a quizzical look. "It's been eight months. Don't you think we're part the point of who does what for whom?"
"Um." Nice. Very eloquent. Moron.
"C'mon, you think I care whether we eat out or not?" The dark eyes were liquid.
The little motes suddenly grew teeth.
"Where else would I be? I mean, David, if you haven't figured out by now how much I--"
"Don't."
Nick blinked.
David levered himself up and off Nick, meaning to move completely off the sofa, but only getting so far as to sit on the edge. "If that's what I think you're going to say--don't."
"Okay," Nick propped himself up on his elbows. "Okay, lousy timing today. I can see that."
That pretty much confirmed it, and the motes began gnawing. Rending his insides with millions of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. "Fuck." David dropped his head into his hands.
After several minutes of tense, horrible silence, Nick asked, "Do you want me to go?"
"No," David said instantly.
Nick sat up, leaning close, but not actually touching. "It's okay. I can see why this it a bad time for me to say it."
"Nick..." David felt hopelessness overwhelm him, and didn't even bother trying to muster a wry tone or sarcastic quip. "There's never going to be a good time for you to say it. Ever."
Much to David's surprise, he felt an arm sneak around his waist. "I'll take my chances," Nick murmured.
To David's amazement, their disastrous excuse for an anniversary dinner didn't seem to discourage Nick in the least. David was grateful, since he was no where near ready for this to end, but he was beginning to wonder about Nick's judgement. He made himself shrug that off so he could enjoy the reprieve while it lasted.
He didn't even let the phone call from his mother upset him as much as it normally would. He managed to keep his mouth shut while she went on about how wonderful everything was, but when she began waxing poetic about how everything was going to work out this time, David couldn't help himself--"Really? You and Dad finally decided to get professional help?" That effectively put an end to that conversation.
But it was a phone call from a very upset, almost tearful, Laurel that made David's day. Once he managed to get her to calm down enough so he could understand her, that is, because at first his heart had been in his throat to hear her in such a state. When he found out the reason for it had been a huge fight with their parents over her refusal to lend them any money he started laughing with relief, at which point Laurel stopped crying and started scolding. It took a solid hour, but he managed to convince her that she was doing the right thing and their parents would find a way to get by--they always had. Just for good measure, he reminded her she now had someone more important to think about, which he knew was probably the reason for her refusal in the first place.
When he hung up, David was so relieved he barely knew what to do with himself, but Nick, who had been sitting beside him during the entire conversation, was more than happy to make a few suggestions.
It was almost enough to make David think this thing might last out the year.
David had never been fond of take-out. He had an innate mistrust of places that were take-out only. If his food wasn't right, then there damn well better be someone to complain to about fixing it. Most of the time David cooked for himself, nothing fancy, but at least always done properly.
In the past several months, his take-out-to-home-cooked ratio had practically flipped itself. The choice between preparing a meal or wasting time on the sofa with Nick was really a no-brainer. The benefits definitely outweighed the drawbacks, but that didn't mean there weren't any drawbacks at all. David had most of them covered, though--a minor rearranging of financial priorities, a dozen more laps in the pool each time, and the weekly cleaning of take-out containers from his refrigerator. He might have to smell all sorts of disgusting things at work, but David was damned if it was going to happen when he opened his own fridge.
It was something David did when Nick worked a double or, like today, had to be in court. David was just reflecting that they always got carried away and ordered too much from Tosco's when his phone rang. He abandoned his chore and moved to answer it, he had been half-expecting Nick to call while waiting to testify.
"Hello?"
"Oh, good. You're there."
David frowned. It almost sounded like--"Greg?"
"Yeah. Can you meet us at Nick's? We're on our way there now."
"We?"
"I'm bringing Nick home."
David's stomach bottomed out, and he had to remind himself that Greg sounded concerned but not frantic. "What happened?"
"I'm not getting into it while I'm driving. Just meet us there, okay?"
David hung up and raced for his car, taking every back lane, illegal shortcut he'd learned about to get to Nick's. Calm down, you idiot. If it was anything really serious, Greg would have taken him to the hospital.
He tried to think of something that wasn't serious but would still leave Nick needing a ride home hours earlier than expected. Nothing came to mind. Hell, maybe Nick's court date was postponed and this is Sanders' bright idea of getting me over there. No. Nick would have called me. No way he would have agreed to a stupid idea like that.
By the time he pulled up, he only got a glimpse of Nick disappearing through his front door. Greg was still getting out of the Denali and hesitated a moment before following Nick in. David was right behind him.
"What the hell is going on?" he demanded, catching up with the rookie CSI next to the closed bathroom door.
"Nick?" Greg knocked briefly. "David's here. I'm gonna go pick up Sara and give her the casefile."
There was a muffled response that might have been agreement, and Greg turned to go.
"Wait a minute!" David followed Greg back to the door and grabbed his arm. His first instinct was to go to Nick, but he needed to know what was going on first. "What the hell happened?"
Looking very surprised, Greg carefully freed his arm. "Nick was getting ready to testify in his case. You know, that Wedding Chapel Wars retrial? And he, uh...it kinda got to him."
David quickly filtered through his memory. Chapels. Elvis. Alien. Alien found near Area 51, buried-- "Fuck," he spat, making Greg's eyes widen. "Why is he testifying in that case?"
"Well, he testified at the first trial, but--Sara asked if he wanted her to take it over, but he said it was fine."
A headache of needle-like intensity began just behind David's right eye. Utter stupidity always had that effect on him. "And no one saw anything wrong with that?"
"Nick said he was okay with--"
David growled with exasperation. "Didn't you say you were leaving?"
Greg looked uncertain, but nodded and left.
David stalked back to the bathroom. Probably in there puking his guts out. Serves him right. What the hell is he trying to do to himself?
Without knocking or saying a word, David opened the door. All the chastising, sarcastic remarks he'd had at the ready disappeared the moment he saw the figure on the other side.
Nick was braced over the sink on arms that trembled, his head drooping low. He looked as though he shouldn't even be standing.
David sighed inwardly. "Nick?"
"I thought I could do it," Nick's voice cracked slightly.
It was on the tip of David's tongue to ask why he thought he had to do it, but he didn't bother. In fact, David couldn't think of anything to say, and he wasn't exactly sure what he should do, either.
"Okay," he took Nick by the shoulders. "You'd better sit down before you fall down."
He guided Nick out of the bathroom, stopping long enough to help him off with his suit jacket and toss it over a nearby chair. Nick yanked on his tie with a small gasp, even though it had already been loosened.
"Your collar's still buttoned," David pointed out.
Nick fumbled unsuccessfully with the top button until David pushed his hands away and unfastened it for him. He practically fell onto the sofa, and David finally got a good look at his face as Nick let his head fall back, his eyes closed. His skin was a sickly white, his lashes were wet and his lips were parted and trembling slightly as he tried to get his hitching breaths under control. He was also fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt, so David sat down beside him and unbuttoned those, too. When he'd finished, Nick grabbed his wrist and held on.
David's first instinct was to pull Nick into his arms, but he wasn't sure that was a good idea when Nick was having trouble breathing.
"I can still taste dirt," Nick rasped, but didn't open his eyes.
"I'll get you some water," David offered. "Unless you want something stronger."
Nick's only response was to tighten his grip on David's wrist.
"Okay. Do you want to--" David sighed and decided to stop thinking quite so much. "Come here," he tugged on Nick's arm.
Nick practically collapsed against him, resting his head on David's shoulder and wrapping one arm around his waist. David could feel the shivers that still ran through him.
"Dammit," Nick whispered.
"It's okay."
"No, it's not," Nick insisted, a slight choke in his voice. "Now my credibility is shot."
He should have known he'd say the wrong thing, David thought with an internal sigh. "What happened?"
"I was going over my testimony with ADA Walden--"
"This is that fake alien case?"
"Yeah. I was...I did okay until I got to the part about the dirt found in the victim's throat and--" Nick's voice broke and he swallowed hard.
David had dozens of questions he wanted the answers to, but he wanted to reassure Nick first. Unfortunately, he still didn't have the hang of that. "You weren't on the stand? Then how can there be anything wrong with your credibility?"
"I meant with the ADA."
"Fuck the ADA."
"David--"
"What the hell is wrong with him, anyway?" David had to let some of his frustration out somewhere. "Why is he putting you on the stand for this case?"
"I told him I'd be fine," Nick said in a low voice. "I didn't--I haven't--I only had flashbacks the first few months, so..."
"Flashbacks?" David hadn't even realized how much he'd tightened his embrace until Nick shifted, and even then he only eased up slightly. Flashbacks were a whole separate category than nightmares and ten times worse as far as David was concerned.
"I could taste--" Nick gasped. "It got so hard to breathe so quickly...one second I could breathe, and the next I just..." his voice failed him completely at that point.
David didn't know if Nick was talking about his actual burial or ADA's office, but doubted it really mattered. Unable to think of a thing to say, threaded his fingers through the dark hair, knowing how much Nick liked him doing that.
It did seem to help, Nick pressed closer and his shuddering eased a little. "I'm not sure what--I was talking to Walden about the coroner's report, and then...the next thing I knew, Greg was there--I didn't even know he was at the courthouse today...he told Walden he'd call Sara to get there right away and hauled me out of there."
Wonderful. Now on top of everything else, he had to be grateful to Sanders.
"Nick," David knew he should leave it there, but this was driving him crazy. "Why were you testifying in this case at all?"
"This is a retrial, and I testified in the first one."
"And when was that?"
Nick was silent for several long seconds. "About a year ago."
David gritted his teeth, "And it didn't occur to anyone that something might have happened in the interim than made your testimony a bad idea this time around?"
"Don't, David. Please."
That was enough for David to drop it immediately, even though he knew this was going to bother him for weeks. He didn't know what else to do, but Nick seemed content to just sit in silence, so David was determined to do that as long as necessary.
It was nearly ten minutes before Nick spoke. "I'm not going to let it affect my job."
"For God's sake, Nick! How can you--? Have you lost your--? What could possibly--?" David shut up before he sounded even more like a blithering idiot.
"David, I'm trying to get past it."
"Past it, my ass. You never get anywhere near it," David said before he thought. He felt Nick stiffen, and suddenly wondered if he'd crossed one line too many. With the sudden vision of Nick getting up and walking out for good, he frantically began to backpedal. "I didn't mean that. I didn't say that--that is, forget I said it."
"David--"
"I know, okay? I know I have no right to--"
"Yeah, you do," Nick said quietly. "You have the right, but that doesn't mean you are right."
David was so relieved that he decided not to say anything else.
"I'm just trying to--I don't want people feeling sorry for me. I don't want them looking at me like I'm some sort of freak."
So much for staying quiet. "Nick, you work for the Bugman's Nerd Squad on the graveyard shift. You're surrounded by cops and still came out. You're dating me. Being buried alive is the least of your problems if you're worried about your rep."
Nick pulled away from David and sat up straight.
Idiot. When are you going to learn to keep your damn mouth shut? David could feel Nick's stare and forced himself to meet the dark eyes.
Nick looked as if there were several things he wanted to say. He even opened his mouth to speak a few times. Then, to David's everlasting astonishment, Nick leaned against his chest and started laughing.
David wasn't sure if it was safe to breathe yet. No one would laugh like that if they were furious, would they? Then he noticed the tinge of hysteria in Nick's laugh. It grew stronger as Nick slumped lower so that by the time Nick was practically lying in his lap, David couldn't tell whether he was laughing or crying. Uncertain what else to do, David kept one arm across Nick's upper back and let his other hand rest on the dark head.
Eventually, Nick quieted, then shifted so he was lying on his back, his head on David's thigh. A few tears lingered in his eyes and he blinked several times to clear them. Instead, they slid down his temples, making David's chest tighten painfully. Nick drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Did you know you're the only person who calls it what it is?"
"I don't think denial is a good idea."
Nick gaped at him.
"For other people," David clarified.
To David's relief, Nick let out a watery laugh. He wiped a few tears from the side of Nick's face, and brushed the dark hair off his forehead. Nick closed his eyes and David could feel him beginning to relax.
"I don't want people to..." Nick stopped and sighed. "I don't know."
You have the right to say something, David told himself. He said you did. "I just don't see--you act like you're ashamed of it. And I don't see why you would be ashamed of surviving something most people couldn't."
Nick stilled again, then put his hand over the one David was resting on his chest. "I'm going to have to think about that one."
"Fair enough." David began combing through the silky hair with his fingers. "Because if you want something to be ashamed of, you've got plenty of other things to work with."
Nick looked torn between incredulity and indignation.
"Your taste in music, for one. Your inability to appreciate a good black and white horror film. The fact that you're 35 and still can't wrap a tortilla properly. Need I go on?"
"No," Nick was grinning now. "I get the idea."
David continued stroking Nick's hair, feeling his own tension beginning to dissipate and smiling as Nick's eyes drifted shut. He thought the CSI was falling asleep until Nick drew the hand he'd been holding up to his lips and kissed the palm.
"I love you," Nick murmured against his skin so that David felt as well as heard it.
"Nick--"
"Hey," Nick's voice was still soft and easy. "If I have to work on the denial thing, so do you."
David swallowed hard. "Fair enough," he said again.
"Hey, Dave."
"It's David." David didn't bother raising his head from the microscope.
"Haven't talked to you for a while."
Which was Bobby's way of trying to subtly get some sort of personal information from him. David saw no reason to make it easy. "We talk every day."
"I mean outside of work."
"We go out for breakfast with everyone twice a week." David had made a point of keeping that same schedule with his fellow techs, even though sometimes it was tempting to spend the time with Nick instead. He despised people who abandoned friends the moment they became involved and was determined to never be one of them.
"You aren't as talkative when we go out to breakfast."
David sighed. Bobby was so bad at this. David knew he could fence all day and never give the ballistics expert the slightest bit of information, but they both had work to do. "I'm not as talkative?" he asked, finally lifting his head. "As who? I talk as much as I always do. Not as talkative as Jacqui who lists everything that's wrong with her latest boyfriend? As Archie who gets practically giddy when he meets someone new? Or as Sanders who used to share way too much information about his dates? Not talkative like that?"
"Yeah," Bobby grinned unabashedly. "Like that."
"Bobby, when did you ever hear me go into detail about someone I was seeing?"
"This is different," Bobby protested. "This time it's someone we all know. And this is...what? Nine months, now? Ten?"
"Perhaps you've noted a correlation between the relationship's longevity and my refusal to discuss it."
Bobby made a reluctant noise of agreement.
"Besides, it's not like you share everything that's going on with you and Gideon."
"Please," Bobby rolled his eyes. "Not everyone wants to hear how the kitchen renovation is going. Or about Gideon's possible carpal tunnel. Or--" his voice hardened, getting David's attention. "That Gideon and I have bruises on the bottoms of our feet because we're constantly stepping on dozens of tiny plastic accessories."
David tried to keep his amusement to just a snicker, but couldn't. Although Teghan never actually asked him for anything--no doubt admonished not to by her fathers, David had remembered her showing him her two Bratz dolls and going on endlessly about them the last time he'd been over. He might have felt silly going into Toy R Us and buying six more dolls and a dozen outfits, but apparently it had been worth it. He'd had them delivered to Teghan and according to Bobby she'd been just as excited about that as seeing what was inside. If the toys were still making life difficult for the Nosey Parkers a few months later, well, that was just a bonus for him. "She hasn't gotten tired of them yet? That's nice to hear."
"I'll bet it is," Bobby tried to look stern, but couldn't quite pull it off. "There's little discombobulated feet all over the house."
David snorted and bent back over his scope.
"Don't you think it's about time you had dinner with us again?" Bobby didn't even bother hinting anymore. "With Nick, of course."
"Gideon wants to interrogate him, too?"
"Although for once, you should probably have us for dinner."
"Cannibalism is a crime in this country, I think," David said, and grinned at Bobby's exasperated sigh.
"Seriously."
"Seriously? Pick a restaurant and a day and I'll make the reservations," David hoped being agreeable would throw Bobby off.
He should have known it would only encourage the guy. "You mean you and Nick wouldn't have us over?"
"Anxious though you are to see all your friends in unbounded domesticity, Nick and I can't have anyone over, we don't live together."
"Haven't you two even talked about it?"
David straightened again, this time to glare at Bobby. "Do we have to have the whole 'professional boundaries' discussion again?"
Completely unrepentant, Bobby grinned at him. "You really should think about it. I'd like to see what effect it would have, because you've only been dating Nick for ten months, and you smile so much more."
That was the last straw. "Get the hell out of my lab."
Eyes twinkling, Bobby pushed open the door, "I mean it. Last week, Jacqui said she counted five or six times in one shift."
"Go," David racked up his glare.
Bobby left, and David glanced around covertly at the glass walls before letting his grin get away again.
David was really getting the hang of the whole relaxing thing.
The thought flitted hazily through Nick's mind as they came up for air. He nuzzled David's cheek briefly, then settled against him. It was one of Nick's favorite ways to waste a few hours. A long, slow make-out session broken up now and then by a review of their day or, more likely, one of those absurd, off-the-wall conversations David was fond of, all of which would eventually lead to sex. What kind of sex depended on--according to David--how provoking Nick had been. Nick had yet to find any relation between his behavior and how provoked David was, but the results were always enjoyable so he didn't worry about it too much.
Right now they were in the middle of one of those silences that could become quite long but were somehow never uncomfortable. Nick's shirt was almost completely unbuttoned so David could explore the warm skin inside while Nick had his hands under David's crew neck--one against his back and the other resting on his ribs.
David let out a brief sigh, one that alerted Nick that something was definitely on his mind. "What's the matter?"
"Bobby has been especially annoying the past couple of days."
"Aw, honey," Nick allowed his accent to thicken. "Tell me all about it."
"Stop that," David tugged sharply on a lock of dark hair, making Nick grin. "Or I'll throw you to the wolves--well, wolf."
"Wolf?"
"Gideon. Bobby's been making a pain of himself hinting around for us to have dinner with them."
"And you don't want to because..?"
"Because I'm a nice guy and I'm trying to spare you the Riggs Inquisition."
There were so many possible ways to reply that Nick didn't know which one to choose. He still wasn't sure whether David was truly bothered or merely irritated with the situation, so he decided to keep any smart remarks to himself for now. "Could it really be that bad? I mean, would it seriously bother you?"
"Of course it would. Gideon is going to be so...smug about the whole thing."
"And you have the market cornered on smug?" Nick asked innocently.
"Which will be twice as annoying," David continued, ignoring Nick's question. "Because he always claimed it wasn't a good idea."
"Well, then he was wrong and you were right," Nick pointed out. "Doesn't that mean you get to be smug?" He struggled to keep a straight face because David's expression said he didn't know whether Nick was serious or kidding, and it wasn't often he could turn the tables on the chemist.
True to form, David decided to change the subject. "And if that wasn't enough, Bobby wants us to have them over for dinner. That's what he said when I told him I'd make reservations somewhere, anyway."
Nick frowned, but was glad he understood where David was coming from in this case. "Have them over where?"
"Thank you," David sounded relieved. "When I pointed that out to him, he started in on the subject of...moving in."
"Shacking up?" Nick teased with a grin. David made it sound like such a foreign concept. Then the techs' abilities to turn up all sorts of information occurred to him and he started laughing, "Maybe Bobby found out that my lease is up in a few months."
Much to Nick's dismay, something that he'd meant to be a joke suddenly...wasn't.
"Huh," was all David said.
You have such a big mouth. Now he'll think you're pushing to move in together. That wasn't what Nick wanted--at least he didn't think so. The idea was only seconds old. He didn't know if ten months was too soon to consider moving in together--he'd never been near this point in any other relationship. The notion was almost immediately appealing, but somewhat daunting and Nick knew that now that it had occurred to him, it wouldn't be going away anytime soon. The last thing he wanted, though, was for David to think he expected anything, so this was the time to come up with something else to say. "There's no reason to--"
"Hypothetically--" David began at the same time.
Nick stopped. David's "hypotheticallys" were pretty much his way of announcing it was time for a bizarre, brain-twisting discussion on a subject he'd pulled from left field. If David wanted to blatantly change the subject, Nick was glad to let him. "Hypothetically..?" he prompted.
"When would you have to notify your landlord if you were--hypothetically--not going to renew your lease?"
Whoa. The lazy afternoon suddenly became much more interesting. "Why wouldn't I want to renew--hypothetically?"
"Let's assume--just assume--that some asked you to share their residence."
"Well," Nick willed his heart to go back to a steady rhythm. "I'm obligated to give a month's notice, but I'd like to give two. Assuming I wasn't going to renew."
"So...hypothetically it is something you would do?"
"Hypothetically...I just might."
"That's interesting to know," David said, and put a stop to any other conversation by kissing him.
Nick laughed softly against David's lips before returning the kiss, because it was just like David to simply leave it there. He wasn't surprised, either, when David's lips left his to trail down his jaw to his throat. Whenever talking became uncomfortable, David always prefered to switch to sex for a while, and Nick never had a problem with that.
Was David actually considering moving in? If Bobby had tossed the idea at him at work, he would have had much more time to think about it. His question made it sound like something he was amenable to, but knowing David, he could have phrased them that way to deliberately throw Nick off. About something so serious, though, Nick didn't think he would. Still, David was private about so many things that Nick couldn't imagine the chemist wanting to share his space--even with someone as close as they had become. Of course, living with David might be the only way Nick would ever learn everything else about him and David had to know that would happen if they moved in together and maybe the hypothetical was his way of--when the hell had David managed to get his jeans off?
Nick abruptly forgot about living arrangements when David began doing that horribly wonderful thing he did, kissing and licking nearly every inch of skin from Nick's knees to his chest except his cock which was straining upwards, leaking a steady stream of precum. Finally, David gripped the shaft with one hand and let the fingers of his other brush the hypersensitive head, making Nick buck his hips with a breathless curse. Slowly, slowly, that one hand moved teasingly down Nick's cock, gently grazed his balls and began working underneath and between until the slicked finger were nudging the tight opening.
Lying on David's couch with his ass hanging off the edge, some part of Nick said he should feel ridiculous, but the rest of him just felt impatient. "No no no..." he drew his legs up instinctively to give David better access. "Dammit, stop taking all day..."
"Let's not get bossy," David chided, dipping his head to bite Nick's thigh gently while sliding one finger inside.
"David..!" Nick growled.
"Hmm?" David sounded as if he was reading the newspaper instead of adding a second long finger and zeroing in on a tiny bundle of nerves.
"Oh, god!" Having nowhere to move, Nick clutched desperately at the sofa cushions.
"Easy, Nick," David murmured, and a third finger sent sparks zinging insanely through every nerve in Nick's body.
Nick knew David was saying something else, but didn't really care. It sounded like something about wanting to make sure Nick was ready because the only lube was on the condom unless Nick wanted him to go looking for some. Nick did not want him to go looking for some and managed to get his point across loudly, if somewhat incoherently, grasping blindly for David's shoulders as he did so.
David removed his fingers and Nick let out a choked sound that quickly turned into a moan when David entered him. There wasn't quite enough lube to make the entry painless, but Nick reveled in the burning sensation that was washed away by waves of pleasure as David quickly found the perfect angle. After a few thrusts he withdrew, making Nick blink in confusion until David began maneuvering him back onto the sofa. Nick shifted accordingly and pulled his legs up to his chest again so David didn't need to waste any time repositioning himself and thrusting back inside.
This was definitely better, Nick thought crazily, because he was able to wrap his legs around David's waist and press his heels against David's buttocks as they flexed in time to the vigorous pace. Nick had no idea what he was saying anymore--when he was saying anything. Sometimes there were words, sometimes there were moans, and sometimes David's mouth on his made sound impossible. Nick was so engrossed in pleasure that he barely felt his climax coming until he was splashing semen between their bodies and saying more of God only knew what while David thrust hard into him one last time, jerking frantically.
David collapsed on top of him, and Nick stopped clutching at his sides, wrapping his arms around the lean torso to smooth along the sweaty back instead. He closed his eyes, loving the sensation of David's breath against his neck while they both sought to regain their equilibrium.
Once his breathing had evened out, David lifted his head from the crook of Nick's neck. "So hypothetically, you might."
Nick laughed, any unease about the question disappearing in amusement at the way David picked up the thread of conversation as though nothing had happened in the meantime. "Right."
He could practically feel David gathering himself for something. "What about non-hypothetically? Would you consider living here with me?"
"Yeah..." Nick said slowly, but as soon as he did, he knew it was just what he wanted. What they both wanted. "In a heartbeat."
David sighed and pressed his face against Nick's neck again. After a few moments of silence, he let out a dread-filled, "Oh, no," which made Nick's heartbeat trip slightly.
"What?"
"If Dawson finds out he had anything to do with this, he's going to be intolerable."
David hadn't had any 'next day' regrets since early on in the relationship, but now he was wondering if the spur-of-the-moment decision was right one. He was not inclined to such impulsiveness and Nick, although more spontaneous, wasn't the sort to do it, either. It only took a few days for David to conclude that this impulsive decision was probably one of the best he'd ever made. Nick was so happy, so eager, so cheerfully confident about the whole thing that David found himself looking forward to the unknown for the first time since--Berkeley? Really?
That was actually really sad.
One of the few things he and Nick had in common was their attention to personal finances. As a result, they had dealt with all the details about leases and utilities and addresses by the end of the first month, even though there were three months before Nick's lease ended. That left two months for them to get Nick moved in--the rearranging of belongings and some necessary compromise went much more smoothly than David expected--and to tell their friends and family.
Laurel was the first person to learn of it, because David called her the next day--although certainly not in the panicked state that she later claimed. She'd been ecstatic for him and promised to visit after the baby came in order to disrupt their blissful domesticity. David didn't want to tell his parents, fearing they might see Nick as a potential source of money, and Laurel agreed on that point.
As for Nick's parents--David never pushed too hard to find out what was going on there. He'd met them during Nick's abduction--sort of. He had said "excuse me" to the Judge and slunk past him in the hallway on his way to the garage when Warrick brought in the prototype. The man had, frankly, scared the hell out of him, and David still wasn't entirely sure why.
Nick didn't seem worried even though he had only come out to his family in the past year, after the trauma of being underground. David had to admit his logic in the situation had been pretty good. While home in Texas with his whole family was there telling him how glad they were he was all right, he simply dropped the news. According to him, the family situation was "sixty-fourty" and since he seemed fine with that, David was happy to go along.
At work, there were a few raised eyebrows, more of disbelief than disapproval. Bobby was disgustingly smug about the whole thing and only his access to firearms prevented David from inflicting his full annoyance on the man. Ecklie called them in to lay out the rules about being aware of and accounting for possible conflicts of interest, which usually meant having a third party involved as a witness when handling evidence from a highly sensitive case. It was something they'd already been taking into consideration and had been dealing with for months, so there were no major changes to be made in that area. Their friends were happy for them, and that was all they had really been worried about.
Overall, it was proving to be a surprisingly smooth transition and things were going astonishingly well.
David forgot to expect the worst, so it was really his own fault when he was blind sided.
It was the same as most days had been for the past six weeks. David went home after work while Nick went to his old place to pick up a couple of boxes before heading for David's. Nick was figuring that when the final moving day came, it would only take a trip or two with his truck. David wasn't sure he agreed with that, but then, he didn't care how many trips it took.
Today, Nick walked in carrying two boxes that were fairly heavy for their size, if Nick's flexed arms were anything to go by. David had a sinking feeling he knew what was in those boxes. He took the top box and looked inside, relieved to see only CDs. He nodded to the box Nick was still holding, "I thought you got them all last week."
"I missed some. There's this and another box. That's it. Honest." Nick gave him an apologetic grin. "I'll just leave these in the guest room for now, yeah?"
"Yeah," David said. "Until we get the library wing built." The scary thing was that it wasn't that much of an exaggeration. They probably could use a third room just for books once Nick added his to David's. "I'll find a place for these," he added, indicating the CDs.
"Not the garbage," Nick warned good-naturedly as he headed for the guest room. "That was only funny once. Barely."
David snorted, then set the box down when the phone rang. "Hello?"
"David, it's your mother."
He remembered word for word what his mother said next, but after that things got a little fuzzy. David wasn't sure what else he said, but he had the impression that he'd somehow gotten the promise for Laurel to phone him the next day. Amidst a distracting buzz, odd thoughts flitted past. Should he even feel like this? This was overreacting, right? Should the news make his throat close and his heart clench so painfully?
Then the buzzing stopped abruptly when the cordless was taken from his hand.
"David?" Nick's voice was soft, cautious. "Who was it?"
Nick was standing right in front of him. So close that David knew all he had to do was lift his arms to embrace and be embraced in return. He couldn't. All he could do was make himself lean forward ever so slightly.
It was enough.
Nick's arms came up to wrap around him immediately. David still couldn't return the embrace. Instead, he let his head drop until it was resting on Nick's shoulder.
"David, please," Nick whispered. "Just tell me what's going on."
Nick sounded a bit scared. That wasn't right. David knew he was making too big a deal about this. He'd had no idea it was so important to him. So important that his throat was somehow suddenly raw and tight and it was difficult to force the words out. "Laurel lost her baby."
The arms around him tightened, then one of Nick's hand reached up to cradle his head.
David leaned heavily against the warm, sturdy body, thinking about how devastated Laurel must be, with only their parents there for comfort. But she had some good friends in Cincinnati, so hopefully some of them would be nearby. Although Laurel always felt that a child should have two parents, after more than twenty years had passed without finding anyone, she'd felt she couldn't wait any longer. At her age, it might have been her only chance. It had been risky, but Laurel had relaxed after the first trimester and when she wasn't asking David about Nick, she'd be telling him about her plans or running baby names past him. She'd stood up to their parents--the first time in her life she'd ever done it--for this baby and now it was over.
"David," Nick murmured. "I'm not going to ask you to talk about it until you're ready. But let's go sit on the sofa or lie down on the bed, okay? Just tell me which you'd rather do."
Once David registered Nick's words, he realized he was exhausted. That was rather disturbing, because he hadn't even been tired twenty minutes before. "Bed."
"Okay," Nick guided him toward the bedroom.
As he allowed Nick to remove the button down he usually wore over a t-shirt, it occurred to him that something didn't seem right about this. "This is..." he stopped when Nick looked at him intently. "Um...I'm overreacting to--I don't think it should be affecting me this much, should it?"
"I don't think you get to decide how much you feel about this," Nick's lips ghosted over his forehead. "C'mon and lie down, all right?"
David stretched out on the bed, hands clasped over his stomach, staring at the ceiling fan. He didn't move when Nick settled beside him, didn't even look at him. Nick didn't seem to mind, he slid one arm under David's shoulders and draped the other around his waist as though David's behavior were completely natural. David could feel Nick's chin on his shoulder, Nick's soft breath on his neck, but the Texan didn't say a word, even though David knew he had to have questions.
Finally, in a raspy voice he barely recognized as his own, David began to talk.
He told Nick about how much Laurel had wanted this baby. About how scared he was that she might just give up now. That he didn't trust his parents to do what was best for Laurel and not just take advantage and how that made him sick to his stomach with anger and worry. Worry that Laurel would just give and give whatever their parents asked and allow them to bankrupt her a second time. He explained to Nick that these past six years had been the longest his parents had ever been separated and that he'd thought that it had finally been for the last time. Laurel, though, had always hoped they would finally reunite and stay together and David knew she was probably convinced this reunion was it and she would do whatever they asked to help them with the new start. And she shouldn't have to do that when she'd already done it so many times before.
Eventually, he was just rambling and saying the same things over and over until he ran out of words and voice and fell silent again. At some point he'd turned onto his side and wound his arms around Nick, while Nick's hand had slid under his t-shirt to stroke his back, warm and soothing.
"Do you think she'll come out here if you ask her?"
David felt the tiniest of smiles come and go. That was exactly what his whole spiel boiled down to, wasn't it? He wanted Laurel somewhere their parents weren't likely to follow. Somewhere that even if they did, there would be someone nearby to keep them from taking advantage. That it even had to be done left a bitter taste in his mouth. That Laurel might just stay where she was added a sharp tang of fear. "I don't know," he said with difficulty. "She's self-employed, so that's not the trouble. And I'm sure if I could get her out here to stay for a while...she's had standing offers in New Mexico for years. She could make a good living there--better than Ohio, if she could just--"
"Put some distance between herself and your parents."
"Yeah," David sighed and closed his eyes. "Maybe if I buy the ticket, she'll feel obligated to use it."
"Let me do it," Nick said.
David wasn't sure he'd heard correctly, "What?"
"Let me get the ticket for her."
Surely Nick didn't think all this talk about his parents somehow meant he was looking for money? "Nick--"
"What if I told her I wanted to fly her out here as a housewarming present for you? She'd say yes to that, wouldn't she?"
"That's...she'd figure it out."
"But she'd say yes."
David's chest began to unclench a bit. "She probably would."
"Okay."
David finally focused on his surroundings again, more specifically, Nick's face on the pillow so close to his own. Nick was watching him with concern, but smiled when David met his eyes. "I'll...uh..." David cleared his throat in an attempt to get rid of the raspiness. "Just let me know how much the ticket is and--"
"No," Nick said quickly.
"But it's--"
"Let me take care of this, David," Nick brushed his lips against David's.
"Why?" David couldn't help asking, although he already had a good idea what Nick was going to say.
"Gotta suck up to the big sister," Nick smiled, eyes crinkling.
That wasn't what David expected to hear, but he couldn't help smiling in return. "That's a lot of sucking up."
"Well, keep in mind that at some point you'll have to do the same. Times five."
David didn't think it was a good idea to ponder that for too long. "Okay," he said. As if you were ever going to say no to him.
"Thank you," Nick said, kissing him again.
Only Nick would thank him for something like this. There was only one way David could show him how much in meant. "I love you."
Again, he didn't get the reaction he expected. A kiss, maybe misty eyes, a smile at least, but not those dark eyes staring into his, intent and serious. "I love you, too," Nick said.
"I know," David said easily.
That got him the smile, the glowing eyes, the kiss. "I'm glad."
End
- Main CSI page
- The new stories
- Gil/Greg stories
- Gil/Nick stories
- Gil/Warrick stories
- Nick/Greg stories
- Nick/Warrick stories
- Greg/Warrick stories
- Nick/Bobby stories
- Jim Brass stories
- David Hodges stories
- CSI: New York stories
- CSI: Miami stories
- Other pairings & threesomes
- Gen CSI stories