Title: The Long Haul
By: Caster
Pairing: David/Nick
Rating: G
A/T: Written in verse. Somehow, people let me get away with it. :D
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Summary: A love story written in verse.

***

You know you're in it for the long haul
When you let "G" sleep on your couch
Because his building's being remodeled
And he can't sleep since there's so much noise.
(You want to say the same thing about him.)

You know you want it to work
When you'll listen to Nick and Warrick gloat
Over which team won which football game
And about stats and teams and players.
(You have no idea what they're talking about.)

You know this has to last
When you find Garth Brooks in your CD player
And Top Gun in your DVD collection
And twenty-four bird books of various sizes on your bookshelf.
(Not to mention TiVoed Animal Planet specials.)

You know this is serious
When you're the first one who
Gets to see Nick after his burial
Because your name is on the medical papers.
(Warrick hasn't forgiven you yet.)

You know you're in too deep
When you eat natural peanut butter
And mac and cheese from a box
And Diet Coke, even though it tastes terrible.
(Not to mention the unhealthy chemicals.)

You know this can't end
When you start getting used to
Waking up to Nick cooking
Breakfast in your kitchen
(Even though it sometimes burns).

You know it's permanent when
The whole team drops by Nick's on Christmas Day
And you're there at the time, surrounded by boxes
Eating Chinese takeout on the floor
(Because the couch is already at your place).

You know it's more than what you ever thought it could be
When you see Nick playing with your little niece
And you think to yourself:
I would have a family with this man.
(That never happened; the government didn't let you.)

And you know it's love (you know it)
When there's a knock on the door
And it's his mom, crying
Asking Where's my son?
(I don't want him being with you.)

You know it's for real (you're so sure)
When you sit through every slur
Every low blow
Every derogatory remark
Every hateful word she says
(But you don't say a single thing back).

You just stand and listen (it hurts you to hear it)
As she accuses you of "changing" her baby boy
And you understand that she's confused and alarmed
Afraid she'll lose Nick somehow
Needs to put the blame on someone
And all you have to do is call the police and tell them
There's a mad woman in your house
(But you would never do such a thing).

And you know that he knows it's for real
When he gets back from the store
Balancing some grocery bags
And sees his mother yelling at you
And you're taking every word without a single complaint
And he manages to calm her down
Gets her in the guest room
Gets her to sleep
And then calls up his dad to tell him what happened
Tells him not to worry
That he knows where his mom is
And then he ends the call.

You know this is it
When you find yourselves on the couch
Both silent, quiet, and Nick apologizes
And you tell him not to
(Because he couldn't have known).

You know that this relationship's solid
When he falls asleep in your arms
And you're holding him on the couch
Feeling him breathe, in and out, and you're so thankful for that.
(He's not the only one who doesn't like the color green.)

And you know there's no reason to worry
When, an hour later, his mother emerges from the guest room,
And you want to let Nick go because you don't want to upset her
And you don't want to let him go because you shouldn't have to
And she just shakes her head, motions for you to be still
And quietly asks if you're hungry
And you figure Nick will be when he wakes up
And so you nod and she offers to make something
And you say there's some boxed mac and cheese in the kitchen
And she rolls her eyes and confesses That's Nick's favorite
And together you chorus I hate that stuff
And now you have something in common.

FIN.