Title: When Everything Changed
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Note: Beta'd by the amazing Catlover2x, who supplied the prompt and the idea.
Summary: There was one night in the hospital where everything changed between them, but for Greg they haven't been changing quickly enough. Written for the LJ 25fluffyfics community (prompt #25, Writer's Choice, 'change').

***

Greg Sanders is nervous. It shouldn't be anything new, driving to Nick Stokes' house – it's a route he's taken many times before. But this is the first time he has done so since the accident at the lab, the first time since he got out of the hospital, the first time since… everything changed.

It still seems like a dream, coming out of a drug-induced haze to find Nick by the side of his bed. A Nick whose breath smelled of the whiskey he had taken to steel himself before finally coming there. His eyes were watery, and Greg had just assumed that it was due to the alcohol; until the words Greg had always wanted to hear came spilling out of Nick's mouth, and Greg wasn't even sure if it was real, or a dream, or if Nick was really there but was saying something entirely different.

He had promptly fallen asleep again, and when he awoke the next morning Nick was gone. His heart had sunk, and he became angry at the drugs for tormenting him as he was already in enough pain, when a dishevelled Nick appeared in the doorway, having just returned from the bathroom. They had sized each other up across the small hospital room, the early morning sun streaking their bodies with darkness and light. Greg had reached out to Nick with his one free hand, and Nick was beside him instantly. And Greg had realised that maybe the night before wasn't a drug-fuelled fantasy.

So far, he hadn't said anything quite as eloquent in return. Nick had told him he was to heal up first, before he made up his mind about what he wanted. Greg already knows what he wants, but he fears Nick is becoming skittish so he agrees. It was just that the healing process was taking too damn long. The skin grafts are itching, causing him to become restless. But the restlessness he feels isn't just contained to the physical realm, he wants to get out of this limbo state with Nick. He hates feeling so needy, but he wants to be held. He wants to be comforted. He wants to just lie down and feel somebody looking out for him. He's tired of his empty apartment, tired of his parents being too far away, tired of the brakes having already been applied when his dream of Nick is finally becoming a reality. He wants his life to be in motion again, to be able to call Grissom, and not be fobbed off about returning to work and being told that it's too soon.

Which is why he is grateful for tonight. Some semblance of normality is returning. ‘Date Night' with Nick. That's how he had always referred to it before Nick's revelation in Ward 27, a private joke with himself and only himself. But tonight it really is Date Night. His palms are sweaty, and he can feel a pool of sweat collecting in the bandages on his lower back that even the aircon of his Ghia can't chase away. That isn't good. He doesn't want anything to inhibit his recovery, but he is not passing up this opportunity of getting out of his apartment and spending some time with the man he… well, best not to get too ahead of himself just yet.

He finds himself rubbing his back against the car seat, and he inwardly berates himself and forces himself to stop. The itch is something he just has to live with. His cell buzzes in the front pocket of his messenger bag, and he pulls over so he can answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Greggo, where are you?"

Nick. Of course. As usual, Greg is running late, and this has caused Nick to go into overprotective mode.

"I'm on my way."

"I told you I would have come and picked you up."

"Yeah, I know, but I've got to get used to driving again sooner or later. And you know me, always pick Option A."

There is a slight pause, before Nick laughs in resignation. "How much longer will you be?"

"I just have to stop off at the convenience store. Grab some brewskis and some snacks."

"I have plenty of stuff here."

"I know. I just don't like to turn up empty-handed."

"I'd rather that you were here now, empty-handed, than on the road."

"What's that, Nicky?" Greg teases. "I couldn't hear you with all those hens clucking in the background."

"Hurry up, G," Nick growls, embarrassed at being called out on one of his more endearing traits.

They exchange goodbyes, and Greg smiles to himself before snapping the phone shut and putting the car back into gear.

At the convenience store his arms are laden with six packs and bags of chips when he makes it to the register. The young girl at the counter smiles at him, her nose-ring glinting in the fluorescent light. "Boys' night in?"

"Is it that obvious?" Greg grins, pulling the cash out of his wallet.

"Beer and chips, ooh yeah. Obviously a football game."

"Close, but no cigar, Nancy Drew. Baseball."

She slides his purchases over to him in brown paper bags. "Had to be one of the two. Have a good night."

Greg takes his change from her, but his hands are full so he wads it into a ball of paper and coin, and sticks it in his pocket. "Oh, I plan to," he jokes, his meaning probably lost on her.

A light rain begins to fall as he is struggling with the door to his car, increasing the humidity of the night. He doesn't want to get wet and fuck up his bandages even more, so he hurriedly shoves the groceries into the passenger side and eases himself in. He knows that Nick has probably also noticed the rain, and his worrying exponential has probably shot up by ten points, so he'd better get going.

The wad of change is digging uncomfortably into his thigh, even through the thick denim of his jeans. He jams his hand into the pocket, and fishes around to retrieve it. He straightens out the bank notes in the dim light from the convenience store sign, slides them into the note section of his wallet, and as he lets the coins fall into their own little pocket he realises he has been undercharged. He was given an extra $2.39 in change.

"Aah, dammit," he breathes, looking out through the windshield into the store beyond. The girl who served him is reading a magazine and popping her gum nonchalantly.

It's only two bucks, Sanders, get a grip, he thinks. It's a huge conglomerate, they can deal with a little loss. They probably shortchange people all the time to make for the difference.

He turns the car engine over, pulls the seatbelt across his chest, and reverses out of the slot.

He has only reached the next traffic light when the crisis of conscience continues.

That poor kid is going to end up with a short till. And they'll blame her. And in this day and age, probably dock her pay. And $2.39 is probably a third of her hourly wage. That means she would have to work for twenty minutes to pay them back for what is a can of Coke and a Butterfinger from the lab's vending machine for me on a normal day.

He is already late. He thinks of Nick waiting for him, jiggling his foot impatiently as he sits on the couch, and then probably crossing to the window to look and see if Greg is pulling into the driveway yet.

Hey, Greg, what would Nick Stokes do?

His internal Jiminy Cricket won't let him go. Nick Stokes, man of honour, wouldn't have pulled out of the parking lot. He would have gone back into the store straight away and returned the money.

Damn damn damn.

He executes a quick u-turn when there is a break in the double yellow lines, and heads back to the convenience store. His cell rings impatiently as he pulls back into the same parking slot he was in before.

"Hello?" he barks.

"G, where the hell are you?" Of course. It's the man himself.

"I'm still at the convenience store, Nick."

"Are they making you brew the six packs yourself?"

"Funny. Look, I'll be there soon."

"Okay. I really don't want to be calling for another update."

Greg is touched by the concern in his voice. "I promise. I'll be there in about fifteen."

He jumps out of his car, and the buzzer above the door sounds as he pushes his way into the store. The girl looks up from her magazine, and her brow furrows as she recognizes him.

"Mexico called, they said you had enough corn chips."

Greg gives her a tired grin. "Look, I know this will probably sound weird…"

"We have security cameras here, and I have an emergency button by my foot," the girl tells him, springing into alert mode.

Greg holds up his hands. "Hey, hey, nothing like that!"

She doesn't relax. "What then?"

"You gave me too much change. I just wanted to return it."

She shoots him a you-gotta-be-shitting-me look.

"Seriously!" Greg reaches for his wallet to show her the receipt, and lays two singles upon the counter, then searches through the coin pocket for the thirty-nine cents. He pushes the money through under the security bars and turns away, but stops when she speaks incredulously.

"Dude, I saw you leave the parking lot. You came back for two bucks?"

"Two bucks thirty nine," he reminds her.

"Whatever! Nobody ever does that. They only come back if we shortchange them."

"Yeah, well, karma's a bitch. I don't need it on my tail at the moment." Greg doesn't want to sound bitter, and for the most part he manages to keep it out of his tone.

"Uh, okay," the girl punches the register and puts the money away.

"Have a good night." Greg turns away again, but she calls out to him.

As he turns back, she pulls a red vine strap free from the box with a pair of tongs. "Here's karma rewarding you."

Greg takes the vivid licorice with a grin. "Thanks."

The girl shakes her head, amused, and as Greg gets back behind the wheel of his car he begins chewing the strap of candy happily, even though he is considerably damper now. He makes good on his promise, and gets to Nick's within the fifteen minutes. Just as he suspected, there is a sliver of light in the curtains through which Greg can make out a vague Nick-shaped impression watching for him. By the time he gets to the door, weighed down under the grocery bags, Nick is opening it and grabbing a couple from him.

"I was starting to think you had chickened out," Nick says as he lays his bags upon the counter and steps aside so Greg can do the same.

Greg stands somewhat awkwardly, now that his arms are free, unsure of how to greet Nick properly. "No way. I've been–"

Nick's hand is at his waist, drawing him in closer, and his lips meet Greg's. He has kissed him before at the hospital, but they were hesitant kisses, scared of hurting him. Nick isn't being rough now, but there is passion and happiness behind this. Greg can feel the other hand go automatically to his back, and he is about to flinch when Nick remembers and the hand comes to cup the back of his head, knowing even to avoid the bandages at the base of his neck. Greg gives a low moan, and Nick pulls away, immediately apologising.

Greg can't help but laugh. "That was a good moan, Nick."

He could swear that there is a blush starting on Nick's cheeks, but the other man quickly looks away, dimples appearing as he smiles widely. He begins to stack the six-packs in the fridge. "You taste like Red Vines," he states. "Had to have a snack on the way over, huh?"

"It wasn't a snack. It was a reward."

Nick gives him a puzzled look as he slams the fridge door closed with his butt, and moves back to the counter to begin pouring corn chips into a bowl. "Reward for what?"

"I got over-changed at the Stop-n-Go."

"They gave you too much change?"

"Yeah. I had already left the parking lot when I turned back."

"Then why did you go back?" Nick asked, ushering him over to the sofa, balancing two beers and the bowl. The game was already under way, but the volume was still low enough to talk, and it suddenly struck Greg that the game was just an excuse to get him here. Warmth spread through him, and he had to bite his lip to stop from grinning like a fool.

"Well, what would you have done?" Greg counters back.

Nick signals defeat. "Gone back."

"Exactly." Greg clinks his bottle against Nick's.

"What are we toasting to?"

Greg decides to drop all pretence. "Us."

Nick grins. "Good call." He leans in to kiss Greg again, but then pulls back. "Why did you ask what I'd do?"

Greg looks embarrassed.

"Greg," Nick drawls, knowing he won't have to coax very hard.

Greg sighs. "You know, you're lucky that I have a drunken admission of love to use against you, so you can't let this get out."

Nick rolls his eyes, his hand coming to rest on Greg's thigh.

Greg closes his eyes briefly at the comfortable weight, feeling that it took a long time to get here. "Just sometimes when I have a dilemma, I ask myself what I think you would do, and then I know what course of action I should take."

"I'm your Jiminy Cricket?" Nick asks in shock.

"Well, unfortunately you don't sing or dance, but, yeah, you're pretty close."

Nick begins to laugh.

"Oh, it's funny for you, but you have very exacting standards, you know. It's practically inhuman."

"I think it's great. I'm very flattered." Nick's lips brush against his again, and Greg goes in for the kill this time, pulling Nick in towards him, his hands moving up Nick's back, his tongue pushing impatiently past Nick's lips. This time Nick isn't as hesitant either, his mouth opens willingly, and Greg thrills as he gets to taste Nick fully. Nick forgets himself, and his hands move of their own accord, and Greg yelps into his mouth as Nick touches his back.

Nick mumbles a heartfelt apology, and Greg leans his forehead against his. "It's okay. My bandages got wet in the rain and they're just making the tissue more sensitive."

Nick gives him a quick kiss, and breaks free of his hold. "Wait here."

Greg watches him disappear towards the back of the house, and feels a strange void while he's gone. He curses his body for limiting him so. He finally has Nick, and there's not a damn thing he can do with him. Even macking out like a couple of teenagers is fraught with danger until he is healed.

Nick comes back to him with a small first aid kit in his hands, an elastic brace of some kind dangling over his arm.

"You have bandages?" Greg asks, although he knows he really shouldn't be surprised.

"Always prepared," Nick says, sitting down beside him. "Ribs," he says, indicating the elastic bandage. Greg nods, remembering that he's not the only one who's been dinged.

"I don't know, that kit looks pretty new."

Nick eyes him. "Okay, I bought it this morning. Just in case."

Greg wants to kiss him again, but he's scared of pushing it too far for one night, and his back is aching from the bandages that feel as if they have moulded themselves to his back.

"Just pull your shirt up, you don't have to take it off."

Greg raises an eyebrow. "You don't want to see me out of my clothes at all?"

Nick smiles at him patiently. "All in good time, Greg. It's too early for that."

Greg knows he's right, but he can't help but be disappointed. He does however find it amusing that his worry over his injuries has now progressed to the far more important level of wondering when he will be capable of certain physical activities with Nick Stokes. "I'm not sure I want you to see… it."

Nick immediately knows what he fears. "Greg, I don't care about all that."

"But I do."

Nick's hand cradles his cheek gently. "Let me do this for you."

Well, how can he refuse that? Greg sighs, and allows himself to be pulled down, until his head is resting in Nick's lap, and he realises that this may not be so bad after all. Nick's hands gently pull his t-shirt up, and bunches it around his neck. He carefully releases the Velcro on the pressure bandage and Greg lifts up to enable him to pull it free. Nick picks the tape free from his skin, and Greg winces, his fingernails scratching against the denim of Nick's knee.

"Sorry, babe," Nick whispers, and it's the first such term of endearment he has used. It's almost enough to make Greg forget about what is going to be revealed.

Almost.

The bandage is peeled away slowly, and Greg steels himself for Nick's reaction. But there is none. Nick methodically folds the stained and wet bandages, and places them in a plastic bag for disposal. He tenderly pats dry the ravaged skin, and applies the medicated ointment and powder that Greg is always carrying with him at the moment. His fingers are gentle, and they work deftly, applying the merest of touches. Finally he wraps Greg's waist with the elastic, asking, "Not too tight?"

Greg shakes his head, reassured by the comforting pressure over the bandages. Already he's used to it, even though he'd rather do without it.

For the first time in weeks, Greg feels so comfortable and safe that he could fall asleep soundly right here and now. The discomfort from the ruined bandages is gone, and his eyes are growing heavy, but as he feels his shirt sliding back down his back, he rolls to his side slightly, looking up at Nick. Nick leans back, and their eyes meet. Greg arches up as much as he can, and claims a kiss. Then he sinks back down onto Nick's lap; they sit wordlessly, just looking at each other, knowing that this is good, and right.

***