Fic, N/G: Clay, 3/4?, PG-13
May. 28th, 2005 03:29 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
acroarcs.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: Clay
Author: acroarcs
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Setting: Late season 5
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, and I don't make any money from it.
Summary: Nick tries to cope without the deal.
Notes: Follow-up to "Denver" and "Broken". Where the others went from (mostly) sad beginnings to (mostly) happy endings, this one is the reverse. It originally had a non-angsty ending, but it didn't feel right.
Denver
Broken
Clay
“And Alyssa took it out on her best friend?” Sara asked.
“Ex-best friend, I’m guessing she would say, since best friends don’t usually sleep with your boyfriend,” Nick said. “Then she destroyed the evidence of their friendship. A whole photo album of pictures.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. The two of them looked so happy in the stack of photographs he’d reconstructed, so unlike the way they looked now - one dead, the other getting brought in for the crime.
“How did she think she was going to get away with it if she left a trail of evidence everywhere?” Greg asked.
“She probably didn’t think about it,” Nick said. “Just did what came to mind.”
“Crime of passion,” Sara added. She stood up, throwing her empty yogurt cup in the trash before going to the sink to wash her spoon.
Greg nodded, although the confusion on his face seemed to say that he’d never forget he was leaving evidence in the same situation. Nick smiled and filed that away as yet another thing that separated Greg from the rest of the world in his mind. Each item on that list made him smile, but the real truth was that having the list at all made him happy. Greg caught the smile and returned it, and the two of them stared goofily at each other across the break room table before Nick’s pager broke the moment.
He reached down, silenced it, and brought it up where he could see it. “Brass,” he said. “Looks like they got Alyssa James over here in a hurry. I should probably head over there, as it’s the reason I’m here late.” Greg made a coughing sound as Nick stood up. “A reason I’m here late,” Nick corrected himself.
“Better,” Greg said. A glance at Sara revealed that she was trying to hide an amused smile.
After the ensuing uncomfortable pause, Nick tried again. “I should get going,” he said, this time actually taking steps toward the break room door. Greg watched him pass with an expectant look, and Nick was halfway to the door before he figured out why. He glanced around to make sure no one was visible in the hallway, then turned around. Sara had turned around completely, trying to appear unobtrusive by picking up the paper towels and looking at them intently.
He gave the hallway another quick once-over before bending down to give Greg a quick kiss goodbye - and it was a quick kiss, even if Greg seemed to have other ideas on how long and deep it should go. Nick pulled away and stood up, trying to give Greg a glare that said “Watch yourself.” Based on the way Greg giggled, though, it probably looked more like “Wait until I get you home.”
“I’ll see you later,” Greg said.
“Yeah,” Nick said. As he finally left the break room, he tried not to let the last few seconds get added to the other list, the one he was trying not to keep. The one of all the times Greg made him question whether or not this was really a good idea.
***
Swing shift had been over when the interview started, and by the time Brass was done questioning Alyssa James, there shouldn’t have been any reason for Warrick to still be around. Yet there he’d been, tapping Nick on the shoulder in the viewing room.
“You’re still here?” Nick had asked incredulously.
“I saw the way you looked on the way to the interview,” Warrick had answered.
“How was that?”
“Like you could use a drink.”
Although Nick had tried to beg off, he’d still found himself talked into going to an all-night bar, some dive Warrick knew, which was why he was sitting on a stool and staring at a glowing neon sign. Staring at a sign, trying to forget about the second list running through his head. Why couldn’t he concentrate on the first instead?
“For someone who didn’t want to come, you sure are hitting it hard,” Warrick said, interrupting the train of incidents in Nick’s thoughts. “How many is that?”
Nick glanced down at the beer in his hand. He could remember a nearly empty bottle a moment ago, but this one was nearly full. “Lost count,” he said.
“Man, I’m gonna be dragging your ass home, aren’t I?” Warrick said. Nick bit off a reply that he hadn’t wanted to come in the first place. “That rough a case, huh?” Warrick asked.
“Yeah,” Nick said noncommittally. It wasn’t exactly a lie. All the cases were rough, and if he hadn’t been preoccupied by issues with Greg, having to stare at pictures of Katie Bowers and Alyssa James for hours on end probably would’ve gotten to him. Watching the interview would have gotten to him, but he hadn’t actually listened to it at all.
Warrick stared at him for a moment, although Nick barely registered that fact. “Something else going on?” he asked.
“No, man,” Nick said. He suddenly felt irritated. Dodging the truth he could rationalize, but he didn’t like outright lying.
“Right,” Warrick said, skepticism creeping into his voice. He stood up. “We better get you out of here before they serve you another.”
Nick looked at his beer again. It was empty. “Yeah,” he said.
Warrick threw some money on the bar. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you home.”
Neither spoke in the parking lot, but it was clear that Warrick meant for Nick to follow him to his car. Nick briefly thought about heading for his jeep anyway, but decided that he wasn’t fit for driving or for arguing with Warrick about it at the moment. He quietly climbed into the passenger seat of Warrick’s car, tilting his head back into the headrest.
Warrick pulled the car out of its parking space. “Look,” he said, “I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it, but there’s something going on here. Something other than a case has got you messed up, and you need to admit it.”
“Sure,” Nick said wearily. Warrick looked over at him, but he didn’t explain. What was there for him to say? That he was having problems dealing with his relationship with Greg? To explain that, he’d have to talk about his orientation, which meant he’d have to explain why he’d never said anything about it before. Why he’d kept it hidden. That part was easy enough. Even in a drunken stupor, he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. While he didn’t think Warrick would turn on him if he ever found out, he didn’t know for sure that Warrick wouldn’t just stop the car and leave him to walk home from whatever part of Las Vegas they were in. Come to that, he wouldn’t want to admit to that fear anyway, since all it did was provide evidence for the distrust Nick held, a distrust even for his closest friends. How could he explain that? Why would he want to?
His mind supplied one answer. Greg would want him to, would say he should just get it out in the open. But Greg was pushing him too hard, and Greg was wrong. Nick didn’t say a word on the drive home.
The sky was starting to lighten as Warrick arrived in Nick’s driveway. Nick stumbled out of the car, fumbling with his keys as he walked up to his door. It was only once he got the door open that he realized Warrick was behind him. Nick shot him a questioning look.
“Really shouldn’t have driven here,” Warrick said. “All right if I crash?”
“Sure,” Nick said. There was something in the back of his mind telling him it wasn’t fine, but he was too tired and too drunk to care. He shut the door behind them. Warrick helped himself to the couch while Nick went to the bedroom. He collapsed on the bed without undressing, not even stopping to take off his shoes.
***
Nick woke up to a blinding headache and someone calling his name. It was Greg, asking where he was and why Warrick’s car was in the driveway. He struggled to remember why, then recalled in a hurry that Warrick was on his couch. He also recalled feeling that that had been a bad idea, and now he knew the reason why.
He got out of bed and made his way down the hallway, keeping one hand on the wall for balance and the other on his head for the pain. Greg and Warrick were staring at each other in the living room.
“Sanders,” Warrick said, “what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Greg said indignantly.
They both looked over at Nick as he staggered into the room. “So,” Nick said after a moment. “There’s something else.” He rubbed at his temple, his eyes flicking from Warrick to Greg, then back to Warrick. “Warrick, are you okay to drive home?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Warrick got up from the couch and stalked toward the door, watching Greg the entire way. “I’ll see you tonight,” he muttered before walking out.
When the door closed, Greg let out an audible breath, and Nick realized Greg had been holding it in. “I guess Warrick knows, then,” he said quietly.
“I guess so,” Nick said. He kept rubbing at his head, but he could see Greg trying to twist into a position to see his face behind his hand.
“Nick?” Greg asked. He sounded worried.
“Just go home, Greg,” Nick said. He walked over to the couch, grabbing hold of the back to steady himself.
“You don’t mean that,” Greg said. He approached Nick, put an arm around his shoulders.
“Yes, yes, I do,” Nick said. He shrugged out from under Greg’s arm. “You don’t know when to stop pushing, do you?”
“Pushing?” Greg asked. “Pushing how?”
“You want to kiss in front of Sara,” Nick said. “You come in even though Warrick’s car is out there. You’re pushing me too hard, and it’s pushing me away.”
“We can talk about this in the afternoon,” Greg said. “You’ve been drinking, you need to sleep.”
“We’re going to talk about it now,” Nick said. He felt his hands tighten on the cushions. “You can’t keep pressing me into situations like this.”
“Nick, you have to work through it…” Greg was choking back tears.
“I don’t have to work through anything,” Nick said. He kept his voice quiet, but it was still forceful and Greg stopped talking. “And where do you get off lecturing me about this? You never told anyone you were gay, either. Why is it suddenly so important?”
“Because now I can talk to Sara,” Greg said. “And that’s made things so much easier on me.”
“Easier on you, easier on you, easier on you,” Nick said. He punched at the couch. “Harder on me.”
Greg moved closer again. “Maybe with Warrick knowing, things’ll change for you, too. Someone to talk about it with.”
Nick shook his head, backing away from Greg. “Talk about it with Warrick? Are you even listening to what you’re saying?” He leaned down, putting his elbows on the couch and putting his head in his hands. “And anyway, shouldn’t that have been my decision to make when I was ready?”
“You’re right,” Greg said. “You’re right, Nick, and I’m sorry.” He reached toward Nick again, tentatively this time. Fingers brushed against Nick’s back, then an entire palm. “I didn’t think, I should’ve realized you were uncomfortable earlier.” The hand moved across his back before Greg’s other hand joined it, the two coming to rest on Nick’s shoulders.
Nick let Greg stand behind him, let himself feel Greg’s warmth, let himself feel the hands working down his back. It would be so easy to give in, to just accept Greg’s words and Greg’s hands. They were massaging him, kneading his skin as if Greg were trying to shape clay between his fingers. Molding him into something new.
Nick turned around. Greg’s hands came off as he jerked back in surprise, and Nick caught them in the air. He held them lightly, not wanting to let go, but not wanting to hold on. “You can’t do this, Greg,” he said. “You can’t just say some words and make problems go away.”
“Then how do they go away?” Greg asked.
Nick ignored the question. “You can’t just make me into whatever you want.” He dropped Greg’s hands and walked back toward the bedroom.
He heard Greg’s voice quiet behind him. “I’m not.”
Nick ignored that as well. He went into the bedroom, sitting down on the bed. He unlaced and removed his shoes, then took off his socks and shirt as well. He was about to start on his pants when he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. Greg was standing in the doorway, his face streaked with wet tears in one direction and lines of the morning sunlight that was peeking through the blinds in the other. Nick met his gaze, but quickly broke it. He slowly removed his pants, mindful of the pair of eyes watching him, and climbed into bed. He deliberately lay down so that he faced away from Greg.
There was a long silence, followed by the rustling of moving fabric and the unmistakable sound of a zipper opening. The mattress moved and sank behind Nick. He’d already told Greg to leave once, and he played with the idea of telling him again, but despite the argument he still felt better with Greg nearby.
He felt a hand on his side. He brushed it away, and the hand disappeared.
Greg didn’t try to touch him again for the rest of the morning.
Author: acroarcs
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Setting: Late season 5
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI, and I don't make any money from it.
Summary: Nick tries to cope without the deal.
Notes: Follow-up to "Denver" and "Broken". Where the others went from (mostly) sad beginnings to (mostly) happy endings, this one is the reverse. It originally had a non-angsty ending, but it didn't feel right.
Denver
Broken
Clay
“And Alyssa took it out on her best friend?” Sara asked.
“Ex-best friend, I’m guessing she would say, since best friends don’t usually sleep with your boyfriend,” Nick said. “Then she destroyed the evidence of their friendship. A whole photo album of pictures.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. The two of them looked so happy in the stack of photographs he’d reconstructed, so unlike the way they looked now - one dead, the other getting brought in for the crime.
“How did she think she was going to get away with it if she left a trail of evidence everywhere?” Greg asked.
“She probably didn’t think about it,” Nick said. “Just did what came to mind.”
“Crime of passion,” Sara added. She stood up, throwing her empty yogurt cup in the trash before going to the sink to wash her spoon.
Greg nodded, although the confusion on his face seemed to say that he’d never forget he was leaving evidence in the same situation. Nick smiled and filed that away as yet another thing that separated Greg from the rest of the world in his mind. Each item on that list made him smile, but the real truth was that having the list at all made him happy. Greg caught the smile and returned it, and the two of them stared goofily at each other across the break room table before Nick’s pager broke the moment.
He reached down, silenced it, and brought it up where he could see it. “Brass,” he said. “Looks like they got Alyssa James over here in a hurry. I should probably head over there, as it’s the reason I’m here late.” Greg made a coughing sound as Nick stood up. “A reason I’m here late,” Nick corrected himself.
“Better,” Greg said. A glance at Sara revealed that she was trying to hide an amused smile.
After the ensuing uncomfortable pause, Nick tried again. “I should get going,” he said, this time actually taking steps toward the break room door. Greg watched him pass with an expectant look, and Nick was halfway to the door before he figured out why. He glanced around to make sure no one was visible in the hallway, then turned around. Sara had turned around completely, trying to appear unobtrusive by picking up the paper towels and looking at them intently.
He gave the hallway another quick once-over before bending down to give Greg a quick kiss goodbye - and it was a quick kiss, even if Greg seemed to have other ideas on how long and deep it should go. Nick pulled away and stood up, trying to give Greg a glare that said “Watch yourself.” Based on the way Greg giggled, though, it probably looked more like “Wait until I get you home.”
“I’ll see you later,” Greg said.
“Yeah,” Nick said. As he finally left the break room, he tried not to let the last few seconds get added to the other list, the one he was trying not to keep. The one of all the times Greg made him question whether or not this was really a good idea.
***
Swing shift had been over when the interview started, and by the time Brass was done questioning Alyssa James, there shouldn’t have been any reason for Warrick to still be around. Yet there he’d been, tapping Nick on the shoulder in the viewing room.
“You’re still here?” Nick had asked incredulously.
“I saw the way you looked on the way to the interview,” Warrick had answered.
“How was that?”
“Like you could use a drink.”
Although Nick had tried to beg off, he’d still found himself talked into going to an all-night bar, some dive Warrick knew, which was why he was sitting on a stool and staring at a glowing neon sign. Staring at a sign, trying to forget about the second list running through his head. Why couldn’t he concentrate on the first instead?
“For someone who didn’t want to come, you sure are hitting it hard,” Warrick said, interrupting the train of incidents in Nick’s thoughts. “How many is that?”
Nick glanced down at the beer in his hand. He could remember a nearly empty bottle a moment ago, but this one was nearly full. “Lost count,” he said.
“Man, I’m gonna be dragging your ass home, aren’t I?” Warrick said. Nick bit off a reply that he hadn’t wanted to come in the first place. “That rough a case, huh?” Warrick asked.
“Yeah,” Nick said noncommittally. It wasn’t exactly a lie. All the cases were rough, and if he hadn’t been preoccupied by issues with Greg, having to stare at pictures of Katie Bowers and Alyssa James for hours on end probably would’ve gotten to him. Watching the interview would have gotten to him, but he hadn’t actually listened to it at all.
Warrick stared at him for a moment, although Nick barely registered that fact. “Something else going on?” he asked.
“No, man,” Nick said. He suddenly felt irritated. Dodging the truth he could rationalize, but he didn’t like outright lying.
“Right,” Warrick said, skepticism creeping into his voice. He stood up. “We better get you out of here before they serve you another.”
Nick looked at his beer again. It was empty. “Yeah,” he said.
Warrick threw some money on the bar. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you home.”
Neither spoke in the parking lot, but it was clear that Warrick meant for Nick to follow him to his car. Nick briefly thought about heading for his jeep anyway, but decided that he wasn’t fit for driving or for arguing with Warrick about it at the moment. He quietly climbed into the passenger seat of Warrick’s car, tilting his head back into the headrest.
Warrick pulled the car out of its parking space. “Look,” he said, “I don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it, but there’s something going on here. Something other than a case has got you messed up, and you need to admit it.”
“Sure,” Nick said wearily. Warrick looked over at him, but he didn’t explain. What was there for him to say? That he was having problems dealing with his relationship with Greg? To explain that, he’d have to talk about his orientation, which meant he’d have to explain why he’d never said anything about it before. Why he’d kept it hidden. That part was easy enough. Even in a drunken stupor, he knew enough to keep his mouth shut. While he didn’t think Warrick would turn on him if he ever found out, he didn’t know for sure that Warrick wouldn’t just stop the car and leave him to walk home from whatever part of Las Vegas they were in. Come to that, he wouldn’t want to admit to that fear anyway, since all it did was provide evidence for the distrust Nick held, a distrust even for his closest friends. How could he explain that? Why would he want to?
His mind supplied one answer. Greg would want him to, would say he should just get it out in the open. But Greg was pushing him too hard, and Greg was wrong. Nick didn’t say a word on the drive home.
The sky was starting to lighten as Warrick arrived in Nick’s driveway. Nick stumbled out of the car, fumbling with his keys as he walked up to his door. It was only once he got the door open that he realized Warrick was behind him. Nick shot him a questioning look.
“Really shouldn’t have driven here,” Warrick said. “All right if I crash?”
“Sure,” Nick said. There was something in the back of his mind telling him it wasn’t fine, but he was too tired and too drunk to care. He shut the door behind them. Warrick helped himself to the couch while Nick went to the bedroom. He collapsed on the bed without undressing, not even stopping to take off his shoes.
***
Nick woke up to a blinding headache and someone calling his name. It was Greg, asking where he was and why Warrick’s car was in the driveway. He struggled to remember why, then recalled in a hurry that Warrick was on his couch. He also recalled feeling that that had been a bad idea, and now he knew the reason why.
He got out of bed and made his way down the hallway, keeping one hand on the wall for balance and the other on his head for the pain. Greg and Warrick were staring at each other in the living room.
“Sanders,” Warrick said, “what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Greg said indignantly.
They both looked over at Nick as he staggered into the room. “So,” Nick said after a moment. “There’s something else.” He rubbed at his temple, his eyes flicking from Warrick to Greg, then back to Warrick. “Warrick, are you okay to drive home?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Warrick got up from the couch and stalked toward the door, watching Greg the entire way. “I’ll see you tonight,” he muttered before walking out.
When the door closed, Greg let out an audible breath, and Nick realized Greg had been holding it in. “I guess Warrick knows, then,” he said quietly.
“I guess so,” Nick said. He kept rubbing at his head, but he could see Greg trying to twist into a position to see his face behind his hand.
“Nick?” Greg asked. He sounded worried.
“Just go home, Greg,” Nick said. He walked over to the couch, grabbing hold of the back to steady himself.
“You don’t mean that,” Greg said. He approached Nick, put an arm around his shoulders.
“Yes, yes, I do,” Nick said. He shrugged out from under Greg’s arm. “You don’t know when to stop pushing, do you?”
“Pushing?” Greg asked. “Pushing how?”
“You want to kiss in front of Sara,” Nick said. “You come in even though Warrick’s car is out there. You’re pushing me too hard, and it’s pushing me away.”
“We can talk about this in the afternoon,” Greg said. “You’ve been drinking, you need to sleep.”
“We’re going to talk about it now,” Nick said. He felt his hands tighten on the cushions. “You can’t keep pressing me into situations like this.”
“Nick, you have to work through it…” Greg was choking back tears.
“I don’t have to work through anything,” Nick said. He kept his voice quiet, but it was still forceful and Greg stopped talking. “And where do you get off lecturing me about this? You never told anyone you were gay, either. Why is it suddenly so important?”
“Because now I can talk to Sara,” Greg said. “And that’s made things so much easier on me.”
“Easier on you, easier on you, easier on you,” Nick said. He punched at the couch. “Harder on me.”
Greg moved closer again. “Maybe with Warrick knowing, things’ll change for you, too. Someone to talk about it with.”
Nick shook his head, backing away from Greg. “Talk about it with Warrick? Are you even listening to what you’re saying?” He leaned down, putting his elbows on the couch and putting his head in his hands. “And anyway, shouldn’t that have been my decision to make when I was ready?”
“You’re right,” Greg said. “You’re right, Nick, and I’m sorry.” He reached toward Nick again, tentatively this time. Fingers brushed against Nick’s back, then an entire palm. “I didn’t think, I should’ve realized you were uncomfortable earlier.” The hand moved across his back before Greg’s other hand joined it, the two coming to rest on Nick’s shoulders.
Nick let Greg stand behind him, let himself feel Greg’s warmth, let himself feel the hands working down his back. It would be so easy to give in, to just accept Greg’s words and Greg’s hands. They were massaging him, kneading his skin as if Greg were trying to shape clay between his fingers. Molding him into something new.
Nick turned around. Greg’s hands came off as he jerked back in surprise, and Nick caught them in the air. He held them lightly, not wanting to let go, but not wanting to hold on. “You can’t do this, Greg,” he said. “You can’t just say some words and make problems go away.”
“Then how do they go away?” Greg asked.
Nick ignored the question. “You can’t just make me into whatever you want.” He dropped Greg’s hands and walked back toward the bedroom.
He heard Greg’s voice quiet behind him. “I’m not.”
Nick ignored that as well. He went into the bedroom, sitting down on the bed. He unlaced and removed his shoes, then took off his socks and shirt as well. He was about to start on his pants when he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. Greg was standing in the doorway, his face streaked with wet tears in one direction and lines of the morning sunlight that was peeking through the blinds in the other. Nick met his gaze, but quickly broke it. He slowly removed his pants, mindful of the pair of eyes watching him, and climbed into bed. He deliberately lay down so that he faced away from Greg.
There was a long silence, followed by the rustling of moving fabric and the unmistakable sound of a zipper opening. The mattress moved and sank behind Nick. He’d already told Greg to leave once, and he played with the idea of telling him again, but despite the argument he still felt better with Greg nearby.
He felt a hand on his side. He brushed it away, and the hand disappeared.
Greg didn’t try to touch him again for the rest of the morning.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-05-28 08:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-28 08:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-28 09:25 am (UTC)That is great, how you expressed that. So cute.
I vote for a happy ending too but I'm just hopelessly sappy. :-)
no subject
Date: 2005-05-28 07:16 pm (UTC)pwease?
no subject
Date: 2005-05-29 01:40 am (UTC)And I'd like to put a vote in for a happy ending. The boys deal with so much bad things at work that they should be home together, and happy.
But that doesnt mean that there cant be some more angst on the road to a happy ending...
Greggo? No! *sobs*
Date: 2005-05-29 02:29 am (UTC)And despite the fact you never asked for a vote, it's a 5 to 1 deal here. Those Banana Pancakes better be working for you (Speaking of which, I love his Sitting, Waiting, Wishing, but don't use that one! *stashes song away* If music is what creates your writing mood, you're only allowed HappySappy songs from here until the end of this story.)
I can't wait for chapter 4! He felt a hand on his side. He brushed it away, and the hand disappeared.
Greg didn’t try to touch him again for the rest of the morning.
Gah, my heart is breaking. Please don't leave it like this!
no subject
Date: 2005-05-29 05:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-30 06:15 am (UTC)