Fic: Fifth
Jul. 5th, 2005 09:57 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
polytikal.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: Fifth
Author: polytikal
Rating: R (for language)
Summary: He missed the day.
A/N: Really, I have no idea what I was doing. I started the first half this morning, and finished the second half tonight. So, if it feels like 2 different fics, you know why. I just wanted something cute and fluffy. Hope I did at least that much.
It's not ever supposed to cold in Vegas. Especially in July. Hell, even the winters were pretty damn hot. It is a known law of the universe that Las Vegas is always supposed to be hot. Always. But, here I am, sitting in 27 degrees of freeze-my-ass-off weather. I could be inside my house sitting next to a nice, warm, cozy fireplace while sipping on hot chocolate, but no, Greg insisted that we come out here for some God forsaken reason. I have yet to find out what that God forsaken reason is, but knowing him, it'll start off as something that I'll think is childish, immature, foolish, and unnecessary and end up being something that I'll do more often. Because, you know, that happens a lot. Like putting pepper in macaroni and cheese. Macaroni & cheese is perfect the way it is. Was. Still is. Whatever. So, one day, we're eating it, and he pops up behind my back and shakes the pepper shaker into my bowl a good 7 times before I can ask him what he's doing. He simply replies, "S'good,". Yeah, okay, so it was pretty good. And I'll admit, I put pepper in my macaroni and cheese now, but I'll never let him know that.
I've changed a lot over the last couple of years, and I have him to thank for most of that change. Because yeah, now, I put pepper in my mac & cheese, punch my pillow twice before I go to bed, wait for the phone to ring at least five times before picking it up, run my floss through water before using it, set my alarm clock 8 minutes later than I want to wake up, and turn the volume up in my car stereo before turning the engine off. Why? In that order, because s'good, doing so makes it softer, so they think we were in the middle of having amazingly hot monkey sex and taking longer to pick up the phone than usual, I haven't figured that one out yet, because those extra couple of minutes are so worth it, and so I get a deafening blast of sound when I least expect it to wake me up and make sure I make it to work or home without falling asleep at the wheel. There are other ways I've changed because of him, but they're subtle and unnoticed, and I think we both like to keep them that way.
I'm still kind of wondering why I'm out here, though. And somewhere between the cold and the mac & cheese, he dropped a jacket and a blanket in my lap. He's rummaging frantically through the trunk of his car, which has made it's new home in my garage. It's strange how all of a sudden more than half of the stuff from his apartment were accidentily left at my place. It started with his toothbrush, then his pillow, his CD collection, his posters, his pictures, his t-shirts, jeans, and socks, his stereo, his dildo, his porn, his eyeliner, shampoo, hair products, and I love thinking about how far we've come. And I think I heard something that sounds like a eureka coming from the back seat of his car.
"Found 'em!"
I love that smile.
"God, I thought I'd lost them or something."
"What?"
"What do you think?"
"Um, could you be any more vague?"
"Nicky, what's today?"
"July... 5th?"
"No, it's... oh. What time is it?"
"1:37 AM."
"We missed the 4th of July!?"
"What exactly do you mean by 'missed', G?"
"Damnit. I wanted to shoot fireworks with you!"
"And... what's stopping you?"
"JULY 5TH!"
"Right."
I should've expected Greg to be the kind of person that absolutely had to do things when they're supposed to be done; not a second later, and not a moment before. Because he's right. You're not supposed to open your presents on December 26th, not supposed to go Trick-or-Treating on October 30th, not supposed to fuck each other's brains out on February 15th, not supposed to countdown on January 1st, and definately not supposed to shoot fireworks on the 5th of July.
"Damnit, Nick."
It's that particular tone and face that makes my heart a little heavier.
"G, it's fine. We can still shoot them off if you want."
"But it's July 5th!"
"Only by 97 minutes."
"Only 97 minutes. That's like saying your cock is only 27 inches."
"Wow. Imagine being fuc-"
"Nick."
"Baby, just give me the lighter."
"No."
"Now."
"And to make it worse, it's fucking freezing out here! Don't we live in Las Vegas!? It's practically illegal to be cold."
"G."
"Why does everything always have to get screwed up?"
"Greg."
"I just wanted to have some fun."
"Sanders."
"Fate blows me through a lab window, fate screws up my 4th of July, fateMMm--"
And suddenly it's not so cold because our lips are touching, our tongues are moving, his hands are creeping around my back, and he makes me warm all over.
"Fate brought us together."
"No, my hot ass, nine beers, one porno and a dare brought us together."
"Okay, but what I said was very Oprah. What you said is very Springer."
"You watch Oprah?"
"Shut up."
I press my lips against his again, and I realize that he's been shivering this entire time.
"Don't you have a thicker jacket?"
"I repeat, don't we live in Vegas?"
"You should always be prepared."
"Why do you think the condoms and lube have a nice home next to our bed?"
"Here, take mine."
"Oh, now you offer me your jacket?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Remember that big bus accident a couple years back? You know, the one where I freaked on the field?"
"Vaguely."
"I was freezing my ass off then, too. You asked me if I had a bigger jacket, and I didn't. And you know what you did with yours?"
"I... gave it to you?"
"You threw it on the ground. Didn't even offer it to me."
"We weren't together back then."
"Oh, please! You were 3 seconds away from fucking me right there!"
"I'm 3 seconds away from fucking you anywhere."
"Cute."
"Take my jacket, baby."
"I will. Just so you can freeze your ass off, too."
"Alright, alright."
I slip off my jacket and help him put it on. It's about 3 sizes too big, but that makes it all the more cute.
"Oh yeah. Nice and warm."
"G, lighter. Please."
"No. I'll do it."
One more smile and he's running down the driveway like he's 9 with an armfull of fireworks that probably weigh more than him. He's trying to light up a Black Cat, failing miserably with curses flying out of his mouth. When he finally gets it going, he skips a couple feet away and jumps up and down in anticipation. It goes off, creating what sounds like 20 gunshots in a row. I'm expecting the neighbors to come flying out of their front doors looking for a body.
"GREG!"
"What? Oh."
I'm almost sprinting down the driveway probably wearing the most annoyed face I can make, and he looks like he just broke his mom's China.
"Are you crazy?"
"Yes."
"You."
"Me."
"Come here."
He hops into my arms and swings his legs around my waist. Scrunches up his nose in the way he knows I love. Kisses me once. Twice. He's beautiful.
"Sorry."
"I love you."
"Love you, too."
"Hmm. Suddenly, I'm not in the mood to shoot off fireworks any more."
"Oh, brother. After all of that fuss."
"What say you and me go inside and make some fireworks of our own?"
"You know how to make fireworks?"
"I meant fuck me, dummy."
"I knew that."
I don't know when I became so bad at picking up sexual innuendo, but I know when I fell in love with this guy.
"Maybe next 4th of July?"
"Nah. I'm liking July 5th more and more."
FIN
Comments welcomed and greatly appreciated.
Author: polytikal
Rating: R (for language)
Summary: He missed the day.
A/N: Really, I have no idea what I was doing. I started the first half this morning, and finished the second half tonight. So, if it feels like 2 different fics, you know why. I just wanted something cute and fluffy. Hope I did at least that much.
It's not ever supposed to cold in Vegas. Especially in July. Hell, even the winters were pretty damn hot. It is a known law of the universe that Las Vegas is always supposed to be hot. Always. But, here I am, sitting in 27 degrees of freeze-my-ass-off weather. I could be inside my house sitting next to a nice, warm, cozy fireplace while sipping on hot chocolate, but no, Greg insisted that we come out here for some God forsaken reason. I have yet to find out what that God forsaken reason is, but knowing him, it'll start off as something that I'll think is childish, immature, foolish, and unnecessary and end up being something that I'll do more often. Because, you know, that happens a lot. Like putting pepper in macaroni and cheese. Macaroni & cheese is perfect the way it is. Was. Still is. Whatever. So, one day, we're eating it, and he pops up behind my back and shakes the pepper shaker into my bowl a good 7 times before I can ask him what he's doing. He simply replies, "S'good,". Yeah, okay, so it was pretty good. And I'll admit, I put pepper in my macaroni and cheese now, but I'll never let him know that.
I've changed a lot over the last couple of years, and I have him to thank for most of that change. Because yeah, now, I put pepper in my mac & cheese, punch my pillow twice before I go to bed, wait for the phone to ring at least five times before picking it up, run my floss through water before using it, set my alarm clock 8 minutes later than I want to wake up, and turn the volume up in my car stereo before turning the engine off. Why? In that order, because s'good, doing so makes it softer, so they think we were in the middle of having amazingly hot monkey sex and taking longer to pick up the phone than usual, I haven't figured that one out yet, because those extra couple of minutes are so worth it, and so I get a deafening blast of sound when I least expect it to wake me up and make sure I make it to work or home without falling asleep at the wheel. There are other ways I've changed because of him, but they're subtle and unnoticed, and I think we both like to keep them that way.
I'm still kind of wondering why I'm out here, though. And somewhere between the cold and the mac & cheese, he dropped a jacket and a blanket in my lap. He's rummaging frantically through the trunk of his car, which has made it's new home in my garage. It's strange how all of a sudden more than half of the stuff from his apartment were accidentily left at my place. It started with his toothbrush, then his pillow, his CD collection, his posters, his pictures, his t-shirts, jeans, and socks, his stereo, his dildo, his porn, his eyeliner, shampoo, hair products, and I love thinking about how far we've come. And I think I heard something that sounds like a eureka coming from the back seat of his car.
"Found 'em!"
I love that smile.
"God, I thought I'd lost them or something."
"What?"
"What do you think?"
"Um, could you be any more vague?"
"Nicky, what's today?"
"July... 5th?"
"No, it's... oh. What time is it?"
"1:37 AM."
"We missed the 4th of July!?"
"What exactly do you mean by 'missed', G?"
"Damnit. I wanted to shoot fireworks with you!"
"And... what's stopping you?"
"JULY 5TH!"
"Right."
I should've expected Greg to be the kind of person that absolutely had to do things when they're supposed to be done; not a second later, and not a moment before. Because he's right. You're not supposed to open your presents on December 26th, not supposed to go Trick-or-Treating on October 30th, not supposed to fuck each other's brains out on February 15th, not supposed to countdown on January 1st, and definately not supposed to shoot fireworks on the 5th of July.
"Damnit, Nick."
It's that particular tone and face that makes my heart a little heavier.
"G, it's fine. We can still shoot them off if you want."
"But it's July 5th!"
"Only by 97 minutes."
"Only 97 minutes. That's like saying your cock is only 27 inches."
"Wow. Imagine being fuc-"
"Nick."
"Baby, just give me the lighter."
"No."
"Now."
"And to make it worse, it's fucking freezing out here! Don't we live in Las Vegas!? It's practically illegal to be cold."
"G."
"Why does everything always have to get screwed up?"
"Greg."
"I just wanted to have some fun."
"Sanders."
"Fate blows me through a lab window, fate screws up my 4th of July, fateMMm--"
And suddenly it's not so cold because our lips are touching, our tongues are moving, his hands are creeping around my back, and he makes me warm all over.
"Fate brought us together."
"No, my hot ass, nine beers, one porno and a dare brought us together."
"Okay, but what I said was very Oprah. What you said is very Springer."
"You watch Oprah?"
"Shut up."
I press my lips against his again, and I realize that he's been shivering this entire time.
"Don't you have a thicker jacket?"
"I repeat, don't we live in Vegas?"
"You should always be prepared."
"Why do you think the condoms and lube have a nice home next to our bed?"
"Here, take mine."
"Oh, now you offer me your jacket?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Remember that big bus accident a couple years back? You know, the one where I freaked on the field?"
"Vaguely."
"I was freezing my ass off then, too. You asked me if I had a bigger jacket, and I didn't. And you know what you did with yours?"
"I... gave it to you?"
"You threw it on the ground. Didn't even offer it to me."
"We weren't together back then."
"Oh, please! You were 3 seconds away from fucking me right there!"
"I'm 3 seconds away from fucking you anywhere."
"Cute."
"Take my jacket, baby."
"I will. Just so you can freeze your ass off, too."
"Alright, alright."
I slip off my jacket and help him put it on. It's about 3 sizes too big, but that makes it all the more cute.
"Oh yeah. Nice and warm."
"G, lighter. Please."
"No. I'll do it."
One more smile and he's running down the driveway like he's 9 with an armfull of fireworks that probably weigh more than him. He's trying to light up a Black Cat, failing miserably with curses flying out of his mouth. When he finally gets it going, he skips a couple feet away and jumps up and down in anticipation. It goes off, creating what sounds like 20 gunshots in a row. I'm expecting the neighbors to come flying out of their front doors looking for a body.
"GREG!"
"What? Oh."
I'm almost sprinting down the driveway probably wearing the most annoyed face I can make, and he looks like he just broke his mom's China.
"Are you crazy?"
"Yes."
"You."
"Me."
"Come here."
He hops into my arms and swings his legs around my waist. Scrunches up his nose in the way he knows I love. Kisses me once. Twice. He's beautiful.
"Sorry."
"I love you."
"Love you, too."
"Hmm. Suddenly, I'm not in the mood to shoot off fireworks any more."
"Oh, brother. After all of that fuss."
"What say you and me go inside and make some fireworks of our own?"
"You know how to make fireworks?"
"I meant fuck me, dummy."
"I knew that."
I don't know when I became so bad at picking up sexual innuendo, but I know when I fell in love with this guy.
"Maybe next 4th of July?"
"Nah. I'm liking July 5th more and more."
FIN
Comments welcomed and greatly appreciated.
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no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 03:11 am (UTC)Oh, I love you
Date: 2005-07-06 03:12 am (UTC)I totally love you.
There are other ways I've changed because of him, but they're subtle and unnoticed, and I think we both like to keep them that way.
Can I have a fic about those? *smiles pretty*
"We missed the 4th of July!?"
Awww, I can just see him ....
"And... what's stopping you?"
"JULY 5TH!"
Hahahahahaha.
I should've expected Greg to be the kind of person that absolutely had to do things when they're supposed to be done; not a second later, and not a moment before.
You know, that's funny. Because I don't see him like that. I see Greg as the "fireworks at any time of the year" kinda guy, and the person that gives Christmas gifts for days before and after Christmas on purpose, just to keep the holiday spirit alive for a tiny bit longer.
He hops into my arms and swings his legs around my waist. Scrunches up his nose in the way he knows I love. Kisses me once. Twice. He's beautiful.
This is just such a cute mental image that I don't know if I can finish my angsty fic. Damn you, Drew.
I thought it was good. Funny, sweet, and a realism that makes me grin like a fool. Plus (you'll think I'm crazy), it's not smutty. Not that I don't like smut, but I love general sweetness. Just day-to-day Nick and Greg showing their love for each other in small ways, and I loved it.
And to wrap up the longest comment ever, *kiss*. I thought it was brilliant.
Re: Oh, I love you
Date: 2005-07-06 03:26 am (UTC)Ahh, I'm the same way. Smut is great, but sometimes I'm just in the mood for fluffy nonsmut.
This was great and I'm glad you finally got around your writer's block.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 03:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 03:26 am (UTC)"Why does everything always have to get screwed up?"
"Greg."
"I just wanted to have some fun."
"Sanders."
"Fate blows me through a lab window, fate screws up my 4th of July, fateMMm--"
XDD Loved this.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 03:36 am (UTC)"Wow. Imagine being fuc-"
"No, my hot ass, nine beers, one porno and a dare brought us together."
"I'm 3 seconds away from fucking you anywhere."
Lmao. And for the record, I'm not mad at you or anything :p
no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 03:56 am (UTC)And I so think Nick should have forked over his coat in Chasing the Bus!
no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 03:59 am (UTC)"Fate brought us together."
"No, my hot ass, nine beers, one porno and a dare brought us together."
"Okay, but what I said was very Oprah. What you said is very Springer."
that is the greatest 3 lines of dialog ever written.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 04:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 04:52 am (UTC)The dialog is perfect!!
Great job darlin
no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 04:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-06 08:21 am (UTC)So adorable!
no subject
Date: 2005-07-13 06:28 pm (UTC)Ah, too funny. This was a good time. I quite like it when they're just hanging out doing dumb things. They're way too cute for their own good.