Final Chapter. Three Scales- Chapter 3
Sep. 8th, 2005 07:05 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
fred-bear.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: Three Scales - Chapter 3- "Captus Libero"
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fred_bear aka jennybel75
Chapters: 3/3
Rating: PG13, maybe R for one swear word
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Pairings: Nick/ Greg
Disclaimers: I don't own them, I just like playing with them.
Summary: Unrequited love's a bitch- or is it?
A/N: Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta catloverx2 for all her support, advice and general wonderfulness! Mwah! This is chapter 3 of 3 for this fic.
X-posted at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
csi_slash and nerdswithbadges
Three Scales, part 1- 3 Libras
Three Scales, Chapter 2- "Libre me"
‘Time, Nicky, that’s all you need, just a little time’ is the mantra that seems to have taken up residence in my head as I drive home. Repeating itself over and over in synch with the rhythmic swishing of the wiper blades and I wonder if I can hypnotise myself into actually believing it.
God knows I’ve tried enough things to forget you before this.
Going to a club, finding a guy who, after a good few beers, looks kind of like you. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I fuck him I can get you out of my system. Of course it never works, he’s never you, is he? He doesn’t have your beautiful angelic eyes, your smartass little smirk, your goddamn energy. And it’s still your name I cry out when I come.
Or just avoiding you, trying to keep completely out of your way. It was easier when you were still in the lab; I could just hand the DNA evidence to whoever I was working with at the time for them to give to you. Of course that never really worked either, you’d come and seek me out, talking about neoprene and skin and romance or, God, something and I’d be drawn right back in.
Sighing, I turn into the parking lot for my building, a leaden weariness enveloping me as I turn off the truck and just sit. I can’t help but wish that I hadn’t seen you with her last night, then I could have continued on in blissful ignorance, always with that tiny spark of hope at the back of my mind. But that spark’s been extinguished now, as surely as if it had been caught in the downpour which is still beating down like angels’ tears outside my truck.
I can feel the prickling behind my eyes again, but I can’t, won’t let the tears come. I’ve been able to control it all day, so why give in now? It will make no difference to anything. Just deal with it, accept it and move on.
I reach to grab my umbrella out of the passenger seat pocket. Damn it, it’s not there, I must have left it back at the lab. Or is it by the door to my apartment? Whatever, it’s not here and I’m going to get totally soaked. Just sums up my day really.
Steeling myself, I jump out of the truck, slam the door and run flat out, head down, to my building. Fuck. I slam into someone standing by the door, trying and failing miserably to shelter under the small awning there. “Sorry, I just didn’t se–” I start to say as I look up and see you there. You’re standing there, outside my door, looking cold, wet and miserable, hair plastered to your head.
“Greg, what the fuck are you doing out here in the rain?”
“Waiting for you to get home Nick, what else?” you say with quiet earnestness, “And let me just say you took your sweet time about it. I’ve been standing here for the last twenty minutes waiting for you.”
My body seems to have frozen along with my brain and I just stand there staring at you dumbly.
“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in? I mean, it’s all well and good to stand here and have a one-sided conversation with you, but I’d really rather do it some place dry.”
Your comment snaps me out of whatever alternate reality I’d just zoned into and I start fiddling with my keys, trying to get the door open. It doesn’t help that my hands are shaking and slippery with rain and perspiration. I fumble and drop them on the ground.
You lean down, pick them up and hand them back to me, fingers brushing lightly over my own. God. “Greg, I–”
“Shh, Nick, inside.” Is all you say as I finally manage to get the door open.
I step aside and motion for you to go in. I follow, closing the door gently behind me. “Uh, let me go get you a towel Greg.” I say as I move to walk past you to the bathroom.
Your hand snakes out and grabs me around the wrist. “A towel can wait Nick, it’s not like I won’t dry out and I think we need to talk. Now.”
Talk, right. Fuck. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, God looks down and says “Oh, that Stokes boy’s not miserable enough yet. Let’s make it worse.”
“Okay Greg,” I sigh, “Let’s talk. What is it you want to talk about? What I told you in the car? I meant it. I am happy that you’ve found someone; I’m just going to need a bit of time to process alright? There, we’ve talked.” Now can you just go and stop torturing me with the fact you’ve found someone who isn’t me.
Your hand still hasn’t left my wrist; in fact you seem to be gripping me tighter. I finally look up at your face and gasp at the anger I see there. Eyes turned from a fallen angels’ to an avenging ones’.
“So that’s it huh? You’ve said your piece so we’ve talked. I don’t know about Texas Nick, but where I come from “talking” means two people having a conversation, interacting, discussing issues. Not just making flat out statements and dismissing the other person. Did it not occur to you that I might have something to say about all this?”
“What Greg? What can you possibly have to say but ‘sorry Nick, I’m in love with someone, someone who isn’t you’. I already know that Greg, you don’t have to rub it in. Fuck.” I sink down onto the sofa, barely noting that I’m dragging you with me, and close my eyes, wishing that the pounding in my head would stop.
My eyes snap open again as I hear the last sound I ever expected to right now. Laughter. Coming from you. That’s right, laugh at me, laugh at stupid lovelorn Nick.
“You think this is funny Greg? Funny that I dream about you? Funny that every time you smile at me I feel it like a sucker punch to the gut? Funny that I love you?”
Shit.
Your laughter stops as abruptly as it started and I can see the words forming behind your eyes. “Nick, I’m not laughing at you; I’m laughing at me and how badly I’ve fucked this up. Since your definition of talk is more in line with tell, let me tell you what actually happened last night.”
And you sit there, still holding my wrist, and tell me about Belinda, how she’s your oldest and best friend. How she knows you better than anyone else in the world and how she was in town to give a guest lecture at UNLV. And how you’re not in love with her.
“But I saw you kiss her Greg,” I mutter, half to myself, “and it looked like the real deal to me.”
“Yeah, I kissed her Nick. You want to know why? She wouldn’t quit teasing me about my big crush, the one I’ve had for years. She wanted to know why I hadn’t done anything and why I hadn’t kissed them yet. I said I was too damn scared. Then she asked me how I’d kiss you if I had the chance, so I told her to try and see. So, yeah, I kissed her and the reason it seemed like the real deal is because I was wishing it was you. Like this.”
Your hand moves from my wrist up to cup my face. You lean in and gently kiss me, tongue tracing, teasing, demanding entry and it’s like I’ve stopped breathing at this very moment. I open my eyes and see you looking at me with those eyes like fallen angels’ and I’m waiting for you to pull away, tell me it’s a mistake. But you don’t and I start to live again.
Author:
fred_bear aka jennybel75Chapters: 3/3
Rating: PG13, maybe R for one swear word
Warnings/Spoilers: None
Pairings: Nick/ Greg
Disclaimers: I don't own them, I just like playing with them.
Summary: Unrequited love's a bitch- or is it?
A/N: Many, many thanks to my wonderful beta catloverx2 for all her support, advice and general wonderfulness! Mwah! This is chapter 3 of 3 for this fic.
X-posted at
csi_slash and nerdswithbadgesThree Scales, part 1- 3 Libras
Three Scales, Chapter 2- "Libre me"
‘Time, Nicky, that’s all you need, just a little time’ is the mantra that seems to have taken up residence in my head as I drive home. Repeating itself over and over in synch with the rhythmic swishing of the wiper blades and I wonder if I can hypnotise myself into actually believing it.
God knows I’ve tried enough things to forget you before this.
Going to a club, finding a guy who, after a good few beers, looks kind of like you. Thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I fuck him I can get you out of my system. Of course it never works, he’s never you, is he? He doesn’t have your beautiful angelic eyes, your smartass little smirk, your goddamn energy. And it’s still your name I cry out when I come.
Or just avoiding you, trying to keep completely out of your way. It was easier when you were still in the lab; I could just hand the DNA evidence to whoever I was working with at the time for them to give to you. Of course that never really worked either, you’d come and seek me out, talking about neoprene and skin and romance or, God, something and I’d be drawn right back in.
Sighing, I turn into the parking lot for my building, a leaden weariness enveloping me as I turn off the truck and just sit. I can’t help but wish that I hadn’t seen you with her last night, then I could have continued on in blissful ignorance, always with that tiny spark of hope at the back of my mind. But that spark’s been extinguished now, as surely as if it had been caught in the downpour which is still beating down like angels’ tears outside my truck.
I can feel the prickling behind my eyes again, but I can’t, won’t let the tears come. I’ve been able to control it all day, so why give in now? It will make no difference to anything. Just deal with it, accept it and move on.
I reach to grab my umbrella out of the passenger seat pocket. Damn it, it’s not there, I must have left it back at the lab. Or is it by the door to my apartment? Whatever, it’s not here and I’m going to get totally soaked. Just sums up my day really.
Steeling myself, I jump out of the truck, slam the door and run flat out, head down, to my building. Fuck. I slam into someone standing by the door, trying and failing miserably to shelter under the small awning there. “Sorry, I just didn’t se–” I start to say as I look up and see you there. You’re standing there, outside my door, looking cold, wet and miserable, hair plastered to your head.
“Greg, what the fuck are you doing out here in the rain?”
“Waiting for you to get home Nick, what else?” you say with quiet earnestness, “And let me just say you took your sweet time about it. I’ve been standing here for the last twenty minutes waiting for you.”
My body seems to have frozen along with my brain and I just stand there staring at you dumbly.
“Well, aren’t you going to invite me in? I mean, it’s all well and good to stand here and have a one-sided conversation with you, but I’d really rather do it some place dry.”
Your comment snaps me out of whatever alternate reality I’d just zoned into and I start fiddling with my keys, trying to get the door open. It doesn’t help that my hands are shaking and slippery with rain and perspiration. I fumble and drop them on the ground.
You lean down, pick them up and hand them back to me, fingers brushing lightly over my own. God. “Greg, I–”
“Shh, Nick, inside.” Is all you say as I finally manage to get the door open.
I step aside and motion for you to go in. I follow, closing the door gently behind me. “Uh, let me go get you a towel Greg.” I say as I move to walk past you to the bathroom.
Your hand snakes out and grabs me around the wrist. “A towel can wait Nick, it’s not like I won’t dry out and I think we need to talk. Now.”
Talk, right. Fuck. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, God looks down and says “Oh, that Stokes boy’s not miserable enough yet. Let’s make it worse.”
“Okay Greg,” I sigh, “Let’s talk. What is it you want to talk about? What I told you in the car? I meant it. I am happy that you’ve found someone; I’m just going to need a bit of time to process alright? There, we’ve talked.” Now can you just go and stop torturing me with the fact you’ve found someone who isn’t me.
Your hand still hasn’t left my wrist; in fact you seem to be gripping me tighter. I finally look up at your face and gasp at the anger I see there. Eyes turned from a fallen angels’ to an avenging ones’.
“So that’s it huh? You’ve said your piece so we’ve talked. I don’t know about Texas Nick, but where I come from “talking” means two people having a conversation, interacting, discussing issues. Not just making flat out statements and dismissing the other person. Did it not occur to you that I might have something to say about all this?”
“What Greg? What can you possibly have to say but ‘sorry Nick, I’m in love with someone, someone who isn’t you’. I already know that Greg, you don’t have to rub it in. Fuck.” I sink down onto the sofa, barely noting that I’m dragging you with me, and close my eyes, wishing that the pounding in my head would stop.
My eyes snap open again as I hear the last sound I ever expected to right now. Laughter. Coming from you. That’s right, laugh at me, laugh at stupid lovelorn Nick.
“You think this is funny Greg? Funny that I dream about you? Funny that every time you smile at me I feel it like a sucker punch to the gut? Funny that I love you?”
Shit.
Your laughter stops as abruptly as it started and I can see the words forming behind your eyes. “Nick, I’m not laughing at you; I’m laughing at me and how badly I’ve fucked this up. Since your definition of talk is more in line with tell, let me tell you what actually happened last night.”
And you sit there, still holding my wrist, and tell me about Belinda, how she’s your oldest and best friend. How she knows you better than anyone else in the world and how she was in town to give a guest lecture at UNLV. And how you’re not in love with her.
“But I saw you kiss her Greg,” I mutter, half to myself, “and it looked like the real deal to me.”
“Yeah, I kissed her Nick. You want to know why? She wouldn’t quit teasing me about my big crush, the one I’ve had for years. She wanted to know why I hadn’t done anything and why I hadn’t kissed them yet. I said I was too damn scared. Then she asked me how I’d kiss you if I had the chance, so I told her to try and see. So, yeah, I kissed her and the reason it seemed like the real deal is because I was wishing it was you. Like this.”
Your hand moves from my wrist up to cup my face. You lean in and gently kiss me, tongue tracing, teasing, demanding entry and it’s like I’ve stopped breathing at this very moment. I open my eyes and see you looking at me with those eyes like fallen angels’ and I’m waiting for you to pull away, tell me it’s a mistake. But you don’t and I start to live again.
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