Title: Those Days
By: Mardahin
Pairing: Eric/Ryan
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: This is my first foray into CSI: Miami fiction, so please be kind. I'm still getting a feel for the characters and dynamics, and this wasn't at all what I'd been planning for my first piece in the fandom. Thanks to Alexi for her help as a beta/cheerleader/psychological counselor, and to Sunhawk and Shadowfax24 who encouraged me to write Delko/Wolfe. Also, this is totally the CSI Miami version of an old Stargate Atlantis cliche. *Sighs* And here I billed myself as a cliche-buster, too.
Summary: There were days when it just didn't pay to show up to work.

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There were days that it just didn't pay to show up to work. And they weren't even the days you expected, which just made them worse. Sure, Halloween and Friday the 13th had their oddities, up to and including the random psychotic juror, but Ryan had found that it was days like Tuesday the 26th that endeavored to make his life Hell.

Take today, for example. The fifth of June. Clear skies, no tropical depressions on the radar, and a balmy 82 degrees. In other words, perfect. Except for the little things. Like a murder that seemed to have been about what was shaping up to be glorified cornstarch. Or the fact that his coffee-maker had committed suicide that morning. The fact that his shampoo ran out on the afternoon he had a sewer crawl, and he had to borrow some from Eric of all people. Not that it smelled bad, exactly, but there was something a little too intimate about using someone else's shampoo; especially when that someone looked like Eric. You were only supposed to use someone else's shampoo if you spent the night, and that was something that definitely wasn't going to be happening any time soon.

Then there was the fact that he'd had to do the sewer crawl. It was Calleigh's turn, had been for the last week, and she was stuck in court. The fact that the end result of said sewer crawl was a box full of socks, stiffened with an unknown substance, and that was it, didn't help things. Ten hours on-shift, and all Ryan had to show for it was a stack of "results pending" socks and the makings of a sinus headache.

Life just wasn't fair.

Pulling on his shirt, Ryan shook his head and debated the aspirin sitting in the back of his locker. Normally, the lab's showers did a world of good when it came to headaches, but then normally his headaches came from spending all day staring into a microscope. Septic backwash was another story entirely. Raw sewage always gave him a headache, and while it smelled wonderful on its owner, Eric's shampoo was apparently an allergy Ryan hadn't known he had. As soon as he shut off the water, he started sneezing. It took almost five minutes for the spell to dissipate, and by the time it did all Ryan wanted was a cold beer and a quiet room.

That was when Eric walked back in, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Probably due to that new lab tech Boa Vista had hired with her nice, shiny grant money. Ryan shook his head, and turned away; that was a fight for another day. Or, really, not. It wasn't like Eric's sex life was any of his business; even if they were friends, private life was still private. It just grated that Eric had to be so cocky about it.

"Hey."

"Hey." Ryan looked up, and was surprised to find concern on his friend's face.

"You okay?"

Ryan frowned. "Um, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Eric shrugged, and turned to his own locker, grabbing a fresh shirt. "Could hear you sneezing from the hallway, man. Figured it must have been from the sewers."

"Oh, that. Yeah, must have been." Ryan could feel a blush rising in his cheeks, and resisted the urge to look away as Eric stripped off his ink-spattered shirt before pulling on the clean one. He was a grown man; he hadn't blushed at a coworker in years, regardless of his interest in them. And Eric might be cool about a lot of things, but that wasn't something Ryan really wanted to test now that they were finally getting along. Turning his attention back to his bag, Ryan gave his dirty clothing a final shove, wincing at the cloud of not-quite-dust that the movement caused before tugging at the zipper. It had been getting tetchy over the last few weeks, but Ryan had been figuring on another month before he had to break down and replace the bag; no such luck. With a disheartening 'chink', the zipper's pull-tab separated neatly from the plastic, and Ryan found himself unaccountably frustrated. He glared at the bag, and debated just chucking it back into his locker; it certainly couldn't get much worse than it was now. Except if he did that, then he'd have to disinfect his whole locker, and that was just more work than he wanted to make for himself. Biting back a curse, he shouldered the broken duffel and slammed the door of his locker. The violence felt good, calming, and he was considering doing it again when a hand touched his shoulder.

"You sure you're okay?"

Ryan looked up, finding Eric suddenly in his personal space. "I, uh. You know, just one of those days." He took a deep breath, prepared to shrug it off and go home, and instead found himself sneezing again. He got up to five before he lost count, and by the time he stopped Eric had managed to find a package of Kleenex somewhere. Ryan didn't bother looking up, just accepted the tissues gratefully. "Thanks. This is definitely not my day."

"No problem." There was a pause, and when Ryan looked up he found Eric studying him curiously. "What?"

Eric shook his head, gaze darting away for a brief moment before settling on Ryan's again. "Nothing, man. Just glad I didn't have to go looking for that kid's stash."

Ryan wanted to scowl, knew it was the expected reaction, but instead he found himself reaching up and tracing a finger along the line of Eric's jaw. It was something he'd always wanted to do, but never considered following through on - the kind of thing that led to very bad places, in very short order. Eric's expression shifted from teasing to confused, but before he had the chance to voice his obvious questions Ryan leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. It was a light touch, and in any other circumstance Ryan might have classified it as "chaste". As what remained of Ryan's common sense kicked in and he began to pull away, Eric startled him by prolonging the contact, leaning into him instead of away. When the kiss ended, Ryan cautiously opened his eyes, and again found Eric studying him, only this time it was a different form of perusal. When he'd considered this kind of thing, not that he had ever done so, Ryan had come up with any number of possible reactions from his interest of the moment.

Eric blinking at him and then pulling him back in for a searing kiss hadn't been anywhere on that list. Somewhere, in the deepest corners of his mind, Ryan knew that this was an incredibly stupid idea. As his duffel hit the ground, however, Ryan just couldn't bring himself to care. Eric tasted good, sweet and spicy, and the heat of his skin was incredible, even through the cotton of his shirt. When Eric backed him up against the lockers, Ryan let out groan of protest, pushing back and reversing their positions. Now that Ryan knew where he stood, he certainly wasn't going to be an innocent bystander; he'd spent the last year proving that he could give just as well as he could take. He and Eric shifted again, ending up against the back wall as they each sought more skin, more contact, more pressure.

Reality intruded when someone cleared their throat, and the two men froze, suddenly reminded of exactly how public the locker room was. Ryan looked up, already knowing who he'd see, but praying that his gut instinct was wrong.

It wasn't. Horatio was standing in the doorway, staring intently at his sunglasses. "Gentlemen."

Before Ryan could think of a response that didn't involve words likely to get him in even more trouble, Horatio turned and walked back out of the room. Ryan really wished he could consider that a good sign, but he'd known H for too long to think his boss would just let this slide. Eric cleared his throat and stepped away, color high in his cheeks as he avoided Ryan's gaze. "I...look. I'll take the heat with H, all right?"

Ryan blinked; that wasn't at all what he'd been expecting, but then Eric had been full of surprises since he'd walked into the locker room. He shook his head, attempting to clear it and remember what the hell he'd been thinking when he'd first kissed Eric. "No, no. I started it. I-"

Ryan was cut off when Valera poked her head into the locker room. "Wolfe? You still here?"

Ryan used the excuse to separate himself from Eric, stepping into the central aisle. "Um, yeah. Right here. What did you need?"

"Was on my way out, and Radhja asked me to drop off the results for your mystery powder."

"I thought that wasn't going to be ready until tomorrow?"

Valera shrugged. "I guess somebody likes you." She passed him the paper and turned to leave, pausing in the doorway. "Any idea why Horatio's standing outside looking like he just won the lottery?"

Ryan put on the most innocent face he could muster, while internally smothering a groan. "Nope, not a clue." He glanced down at the print-out and frowned. "Hey, is this what I think it is?"

She shrugged, stepping out into the hall. "That would depend on what you think it is. I'm out of here, got a hot date."

Once she was gone, Eric pushed off the wall and stepped into the aisle next to him. "So what did you think it was?"

Ryan passed over the paper, reaching down to pick up his duffel again. "Let's just say I'm not going to hold you accountable for your recent actions, and leave it at that, okay?"

Eric reached out, placing a hand on Ryan's wrist. "Look this stuff lowers inhibitions, right? That means there was something there to start with."

Ryan shrugged him off, snagging the paper as he headed toward the door and avoiding Eric's gaze. "Look, you don't have to humor me, all right? A warm body's a warm body. Let's just forget about it."

Eric let him go, and Ryan could hear his friend adjusting things in his locker as he approached the door. As he opened it, however, he was surprised to find Eric right behind him. "They say it takes two to tango. If you're dealing with H, the least I can do is buy you a beer."

Ryan felt his cheeks flush, and silently cursed what he now knew to be drug-inspired physiological reactions. "I, uh, probably shouldn't go out tonight. Let this stuff clear my system and all."

Eric responded with an easy grin as he shouldered his own duffel. "My place it is. I'll meet you in the parking lot in ten."

"But, I, uh..."

"Later, man."

Ryan was left staring at the door, wondering what exactly he was getting himself into. With a resigned sigh, he adjusted his broken bag and headed for Horatio's office. He had the feeling it was going to be one of those nights, too.

~ Finis ~

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