[identity profile] pknight.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] nickngreg
Title: Slow Ride
Author: PK Night
Challenge: N/A
Rating: R-ish
Warnings/Spoilers: Grave Danger, Play With Fire, Stalker, ...lots...; Slightly angsty, but not really
Summary: Greg plans a night off for him and Nick.
Note: Inspired by Bonnie Raitt's "Slow Ride", lyrics after story. Established relationship.

*****

When the alarm went off, Greg reached over and slapped it off. He rolled over and looked at Nick, who was firmly on the other side of the bed and hadn’t stirred. Good. It was Nick’s night off from work, and Greg had requested the same night off. He had a plan.

He rolled out of bed as he normally did when getting ready for work. He went in to shower, being quiet so as not to wake Nick. Not yet, anyway.

He went into the kitchen and began preparing the food for his plan.

An hour later he heard Nick stirring, stumbling slightly on his way to the shower—Nick didn’t wake easily any more, and he hasn’t quite gotten used to the night shift again.

There were a lot of things they hadn’t quite gotten used to again. Greg was losing Nick, he could feel it, and was going to do his best to stop it.

Greg’s boyfriend stumbled into the kitchen and stood, blinking in confusion at the light and the activity. “What?” he asked, dumbfounded.

“I took the night off,” Greg said, and finished wrapping one of the sandwiches, putting it into the basket. “I have a surprise planned.”

Nick sighed and leaned against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest. “Greg, I was planning to get things done tonight. Laundry, clean up a bit, maybe go through some of the closets and toss out stuff we don’t use any more.”

Greg looked at Nick steadily. “We can do that later, Nick. Go get dressed and come with me.”

“Greg,” he sighed again, and Greg narrowed his eyes. He stepped very deliberately towards Nick, who was watching him warily now. Greg leaned against Nick, crossed arms and all, and pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling a tremor of relief in his stomach when Nick uncrossed his arms and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss until they were both breathing harder.

“Please?” Greg said, faking a pout with wide eyes.

Nick smiled for the first time in what seemed like days, and said, “Okay, fine. We’ll play your way tonight.”

Greg smiled and went over to grab the basket. “Great,” he said. “Grab your keys, we’re taking your truck.”

“Oh, it’s my surprise but I have to drive?” he asked, and almost frowned.

“You’re not driving; we’re just taking your truck. Your vehicle has a better sound system, which I still maintain is unfair.” Nick’s lips quirked at that and he followed Greg out to the parking lot.

Greg pulled out of the parking lot and soon they were on their way out into the desert, the setting sun getting in their eyes. Nick had been surprised at Greg’s choice of music—some classical station on the radio turned low—but hadn’t commented. Mostly they let the music and quiet wash over them, soothing them after a difficult period of work. Work was always difficult, but lately they hadn’t been relaxing as much. The changes in the last few months were enough to make anyone lose their equilibrium, but Greg felt as if Nick was slipping through his grasp somehow.

After a half-hour of driving, and several turns, Nick finally ventured, “Where are we going, Greg?”

Greg glanced over. “I wanted to just get us out here where we can relax,” he said, rather than answering. “Away from the city, the lights, the noise, the pressures, the reminders of the job.” Feeling unaccountably nervous, he reached for Nick’s hand on the bench seat between them. “I miss it being just us,” he said, his voice getting quieter with each word. “I miss you,” he said.

Nick squeezed his hand. “I haven’t gone anywhere, Greg,” he said, sounding confused.

“I know,” Greg said, biting his lip. “But it feels like you have. It’s just…” he trailed off, waiting for the music to fade away. “Everything is changing. I’m trying to get my bearings with the new status quo but it doesn’t feel like it’s working. I feel like I’m losing you.” He nearly swallowed on the last words.

Nick was silent, and Greg could feel the nerves jumping under his skin. He pulled off the road, watching the last bit of sunlight on the horizon rather than look at the man he loved, sitting quietly beside him and not responding.

After what seemed like several minutes but was probably only a few seconds, Nick reached out and covered the nape of Greg’s neck with his palm, and the heat felt so good to his tensed muscles that he leaned against it. Nick’s fingers massaged for a few moments then began pulling until Greg fumbled with his seatbelt met Nick in the middle of the seat.

They sat in the rapidly fading light, Greg’s thigh stretched over Nick’s, their arms looped around each other, and Greg sighed heavily, releasing tension with his breath. “I love you, you know,” he said, resting his forehead against Nick’s.

Nick smiled. “I love you, too, Greggo,” he said. After a moment he went on. “If you want to know the truth, I’m having trouble adjusting, too. I worry about you in the field; I don’t want you to get hurt, I don’t want you in danger.”

“No more than I want you,” Greg said, frowning. “Is that why you’ve been pulling away? Because you’re afraid that things will happen now that I’m in the field?”

Nick opened his mouth to speak, but stopped, and looked ashamed. “I guess it is,” he said. “Hell, Greg, can you blame me? I’ve had guns drawn on me, a man fall through my ceiling, and been…” He trailed off, still not actually able to say “buried alive”.

“I know,” Greg said, his fingers soothing the back of Nick’s neck. “Believe me, I know what you’ve been through. And I can’t promise that things won’t happen to me. And I can’t say that I’m better off in the field than in the lab, but I feel like I’m doing more, being more productive, and that’s important to me.”

Nick nodded in response. “You’re good in the field,” he said suddenly. “You learn quickly. And I’m proud that you’re so good about being bounced back to the lab sometimes. It can’t be easy, but you do it anyway.”

Greg felt as if he wanted to blush, so he nuzzled Nick’s ear. “Not like I can say, ‘No, I’m never going back there’, you know?”

“Yeah,” Nick said, his breath drawing in sharply. They spent a few more moments, tangled together, breathing together and reveling in being there. “Are we better?” Nick asked, somewhat plaintively. Greg closed his eyes and responded with a kiss.

Greg nearly hits his head on the top of the cab as he moved over Nick. They smile at each other, the last of the bad tension leeching out of them, and the fun kind of tension ratcheting up another notch as Greg settles with his knees on either side of Nick’s hips. The kisses heated, fires too long banked roaring suddenly to life. Nick groans against Greg’s mouth, pulling the slighter man’s hips down as his own rise.

Nick ripped his mouth away, groaning as if it hurt to do so, breathing ragged. It had been a while since they’d done this, Greg thought, a while since they’d been this frantic for the feel and taste of each other. They’d had sex, but it had been almost perfunctory, going through the motions, and that had almost hurt more than anything.

Now the passionate, can’t-wait-for-caution, please-yes-now feeling was back, and Greg knew he wouldn’t last long, especially not when Nick’s mouth latched onto his neck, sucking and biting as if he wanted to eat Greg alive. Not when Nick’s hand was sliding down his chest, his stomach, to the waistband of his jeans and yanking impatiently until the button slips through. Not when Greg feels Nick’s fingers—trembling slightly with eagerness, hotter than they’d been in ages—wrapping around his length. He grunts slightly, and his own hands are shaking as he follows suit with Nick’s pants, feeling Nick hard and hotter than should be humanly possible in his hand.

And they haven’t done just this in far too long. It feels illicit, and makes Greg feel like a teenager again, fresh but eager for exploration, this exchanging handjobs in the cab of the truck. But he knows if he wanted more he just had to ask. Nick, too knows, but they both seem content with just this, this basic re-beginning.

And then it’s just gasps, breath caught in the throat, low moans, the rasp of skin on skin, the wet sound of lips meeting and tongues thrusting, names whispered reverently, falling over the brink and ragged breathing as they slumped together boneless on the seat.

Without dislodging Greg, Nick reached for the glove compartment and the extra napkins he kept stashed there, and cleaned them both up as best he could, the zippers on their jeans making more noise than they should in the darkness. Then he pulled Greg even closer, shifting until he could lean against the door with Greg half lying on top of him. It was precarious at best, and Greg could slip to the floor any second, but it was too nice to stop just yet.

Greg studied Nick’s face in the dim light from the panel—he must’ve left the lights on when he pulled over, and God knows how long they’d actually been here, lucky these were deserted roads. Nick’s face was almost none the worse for his experience underground, maybe a few of the lines were a little deeper. No, most of the scars were internal: the nightmares, the little twitches when he spotted unexpected ants out of the corner of his eye, the reaction to bubble gum, and the sound of his own gun firing on the range made him pale.

Greg hadn’t gotten out unscathed. He hadn’t been able to watch any live web feeds since, always flashing back to the glimpses he’d caught of Nick underground. The sound of gunfire affects him too, and he has to check the impulse to reach out and touch Nick, to reassure himself that the worst hadn’t happened.

Greg ducked his head, trying to burrow into Nick, his heat and scent, and remember that they were there, and they were fine, and that’s what counted.

Nick’s hand stroked his back, over the burn scars there, and kissed behind Greg’s ear, which was the closest part he could reach. “Think we can find our way home in the dark?”

Greg smiled at the unintentional double meaning and replied, “Absolutely.”

Slow Ride

Feels like nothin’ happens fast enough
Well maybe I just want too much
But when something's wrong between us, Baby
Nothin’ feels right.

I think it's time we cleared the air
Take a long drive far away somewhere
Tell me everything you feel inside
we got nothin’ but time.

Slide over, Baby
Here by my side
I wanna take you on a Slow Ride
On a Slow Ride.

Your history shows on your face
Yeah, you've been hurt you've been betrayed
Now we can't change the past, but we can
Leave it behind.

We'll forget about tomorrow, Baby
We'll just steal away into the night
And we'll just be two shadows, Darlin'
In the dashboard light.

Slide over, Baby
Here by my side
I wanna take you on a Slow Ride
On a Slow Ride.

(Formatting on lyrics not mine...)

Feedback?

Date: 2005-10-12 09:53 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] carolina30363.livejournal.com
I liked it a lot...very powerful!
Good job!

Date: 2005-10-12 11:52 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] burningchaos.livejournal.com
Oh this was wonderful...

Date: 2005-10-12 11:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] serenity151979.livejournal.com
Oooh, I really liked this. I'm going to read it again right now! Great writing.

Date: 2005-10-12 01:42 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] realm-of-red.livejournal.com
Beautiful! I could feel the sadness that Greg had over feeling like he was losing Nick. Printing this off to read again! Thanks!

Date: 2005-10-12 04:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imyourally.livejournal.com
Ah, that was really good. I love those lyrics. They just sort of fit with them.

Date: 2005-10-12 05:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] anmani.livejournal.com
Nice and to the point. Severe trauma just spreads like rings in the water and the art of returning to calm waters is so hard.

Beautiful.

Date: 2005-10-12 07:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] slightly-frayed.livejournal.com
This is absolutely beautiful. Your words flow so well and at the same time, they convey that gorgeous emotion clear as day. Thanks. :)

Date: 2005-10-14 04:38 pm (UTC)
sillie: Aidan curls drawing (Boytouching)
From: [personal profile] sillie
*loves*

Date: 2005-10-14 08:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] el-gilliath.livejournal.com
I loved it! and Slow Ride was actually playing in my ear as I read it, so that made it even more great!

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