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Sep. 18th, 2005 07:41 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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nickngregI COME BEARING FIC!!! Woo-hoo! Finally, a story.
Title: Remembrances
Nick/Greg
PG-13
Challenge: 'Sick' at ngchallenge
Summary: Greg reflects on what he used to do...
Random A/N: Ban Republican marraige!
Greg used to compulsively clean; he remembered that with startling clarity . Every day, he'd go over everything with Clorox and paper towels, never caring whether the object was in it's right place as long as it was spotless. He never ate food in his house either, not unless he couldn't get around it, but that usually only happened around holidays.
Every day, he'd wipe down the edges of doors and the undersides of counters and the inside of his closet; he'd purify them, all the places that could hide something. Then, he'd change tactics, compulsively cleaning himself for hours, scrubbing away the dirt and grime. Even when he was certain all the actual dirt was gone, Greg still didn't want to leave the sanctity of his shower
Things just got worse when he began working for labs; the stench of decay seemed to hang in the air around him. His time in the showers became longer and longer; he moved from Clorox spray bottles to pure bleach.
And yet, that was better, he thought. Better that people should know that he was dirty, that they understand he was unclean where nobody could see him, that they subconsciously realize he fucked guys on weekends without actually knowing that he did. It was better, he decided.
He had been careful; nobody knew anything for sure, but he knew that they could probably see it on him just like they could see the dirt on his hands.
-
Greg rolled over as he pushed away his thoughts. He curled around Nick, sighing when the older man placed a sleepy kiss on his neck. He couldn't even bother to get up and go take a shower, so great was his tiredness, and even if he had, he didn't want to leave Nick's arms.
Besides, it was their tenth anniversary, and he wasn't going to waste a minute of it.
Title: Remembrances
Nick/Greg
PG-13
Challenge: 'Sick' at ngchallenge
Summary: Greg reflects on what he used to do...
Random A/N: Ban Republican marraige!
Greg used to compulsively clean; he remembered that with startling clarity . Every day, he'd go over everything with Clorox and paper towels, never caring whether the object was in it's right place as long as it was spotless. He never ate food in his house either, not unless he couldn't get around it, but that usually only happened around holidays.
Every day, he'd wipe down the edges of doors and the undersides of counters and the inside of his closet; he'd purify them, all the places that could hide something. Then, he'd change tactics, compulsively cleaning himself for hours, scrubbing away the dirt and grime. Even when he was certain all the actual dirt was gone, Greg still didn't want to leave the sanctity of his shower
Things just got worse when he began working for labs; the stench of decay seemed to hang in the air around him. His time in the showers became longer and longer; he moved from Clorox spray bottles to pure bleach.
And yet, that was better, he thought. Better that people should know that he was dirty, that they understand he was unclean where nobody could see him, that they subconsciously realize he fucked guys on weekends without actually knowing that he did. It was better, he decided.
He had been careful; nobody knew anything for sure, but he knew that they could probably see it on him just like they could see the dirt on his hands.
-
Greg rolled over as he pushed away his thoughts. He curled around Nick, sighing when the older man placed a sleepy kiss on his neck. He couldn't even bother to get up and go take a shower, so great was his tiredness, and even if he had, he didn't want to leave Nick's arms.
Besides, it was their tenth anniversary, and he wasn't going to waste a minute of it.
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