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Apr. 1st, 2005 09:55 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
girlnorth.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: The Intricacies of Grief, 4/?
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: Up to and including "Who Shot Sherlock?"
Disclaimer: Yeah, right.
Previous Parts:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Nick rolled over again. The bed in Jacqui’s spare room was fine, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the most comfortable bed in the world. Like the princess and the pea, Nick felt the tiniest discomfort. Though what he felt wasn’t under the mattress, but somewhere deep within, an emotion he had no desire to uncover. Memories of his dad kept surfacing as he closed his eyes – squeezed them shut – trying to usher the memories away and fall asleep, to no avail.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
Nick sat down on his couch in shock. He’d waited years to hear his dad say those words, and after the way he left Texas, never really thought he’d hear them. Never actually thought he’d hear anything from his dad and when he called out of the blue, pride was the last thing he thought they’d be talking about.
“You are?”
“I am. You turned your life around, got things all straightened out.”
“What are you talking about, Dad?” Nick was confused. His dad had never approved of his career choice, so he didn’t really think he was talking about making CSI III. And if anything, the rest of his life was more screwed up than it had ever been.
“I heard all about that business with the hooker, son. Now, that was quite a little mess, but I was just happy to hear that you were… involved with her. It was good news.”
Nick felt sick to his stomach. Kristy Hopkins was a friend, she meant something to him. Her murder devastated him, but all his dad could see was that she was a woman and that Nick fucked her. All that was important was that his son wasn’t a homo any more.
“It was a mistake, Dad,” Nick said evenly. “It didn’t change anything.”
“I don’t understand. You slept with her. Obviously you were attracted to her.”
“Yeah, Dad, I did sleep with her, but everything’s not black and white, you know? And if anything, it just reinforced what I already knew about myself.”
“It’s black and white for normal people, son. I’ve never had the urge to go to bed with a man.”
“And I doubt I’ll ever go to bed with another woman.”
Nick got out of bed, too agitated to sleep. He looked in the mirror hung over a chest of drawers and ran a hand over his face. His crimson-rimmed eyes were bloodshot, and he felt as good as he looked. He was almost ready to take some sort of sleeping pill, but not quite. He rarely took any kind of drug, alcohol being the one exception. He couldn’t stand being out of control, hated letting anything or anyone have that much power over him. He went to a psychologist once, and she attributed it to his molestation when he was a kid. He hadn’t gone back. It probably had something to do with it, but he hated shrinks who thought that your whole life was decided by one incident. It had changed him, sure, and it was part of what shaped his character, but it wasn’t the core of his identity. There were many facets of his life that made him the man he was.
He wondered what Greg was doing. He closed his eyes and sighed. It had been stupid to let Greg come with him. Not only had his presence caused tension with his family, but it was confusing the hell out of Nick. He was letting Greg get close, closer than he ever let anyone get, and it scared him. Greg was his friend, but Nick had always kept his friends at arm’s length. They probably wouldn’t describe him that way; he had always been tight with his fraternity brothers and other friends he’d made, but they only saw the part of him he left them see. Greg somehow saw beyond the exterior, and Nick didn’t know what to do with that. The fact that there were moments that Nick just wanted to grab him and kiss him senseless didn’t help the matter, especially when he didn’t think Greg would reciprocate. The thought of his lips on Greg’s, their bodies pressed together, stirred a yearning in his groin, and he grabbed his wallet and keys and left the room. He was almost to the front door when he heard someone behind him. Hoping it was Jacqui, he turned around hesitantly.
“Where are you going?” Greg asked, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, thumbs hooked in the loops, and fuck Nick needed to get out of there before he yanked Greg’s hands out of his pants and replaced them with his own. Having those thoughts was all kinds of wrong for all kinds of reasons, including the fact that he felt like he was dishonoring his dad.
“Uh, just out,” he said.
“You want me to come along?” Greg asked, a little too casually. Nick could see a hint of hurt in his eyes, and he knew it was because he was going to leave without telling Greg. Not that Greg would ever intentionally let him know that it bothered him, all his attention was focused on Nick, on how he was doing.
“Yeah,” Nick said, though he really, really didn’t. The whole purpose of getting out was to stop thinking about Greg, but then maybe if they were out doing something, if he wasn’t just wallowing, he could keep his mind where it should be and out of his pants. Or Greg’s.
“Where are we going?” Greg asked as he buckled his seat belt.
“I don’t know,” Nick answered. Where do you go when your father has just died, a father whom you haven’t spoken to in a few years, who has practically disowned you, but whom you never stopped wanting to gain approval from, and you can’t stop thinking about jumping your friend and co-worker who just wants to be there for you in your time of grief? Nick’s obvious answer was a bar, but alcohol was a bad choice as long as Greg was with him. He was afraid he would do something he’d regret.
“Do you want to go to a bar or something?” Greg asked.
Well, hell.
“Yeah,” Nick found himself saying, as he started the car and headed in the direction of a familiar bar.
It wasn’t yet noon, but the smoke in Shorty’s was already thick. Nick didn’t think it ever really cleared out. Shorty’s was the definition of dive bar.
“Sorry,” he said to Greg as they sat down. “It’s not the nicest bar in town, but it’s where I always went when I didn’t feel like bumping into anyone I knew.”
Greg shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been in my share of pits.”
Nick smiled at that. Despite his big talk, Greg seemed so innocent.
“There are things about me you don’t know,” Greg said, taking a swig of his beer.
“Yeah?” Nick asked, glad to be talking about something other than his dad and what a disappointment he was to him. “Like what?”
Greg shook his head. “If I wanted you to know, I’d have told you.”
“Come on, now,” Nick said. “You brought it up.”
“Let’s just say that you’ve made assumptions about me, about my background and the things I’ve done in my life, and not all of them are correct.”
Nick eyed him, wondering.
“I mean,” Greg continued, “people make a lot of assumptions about you that aren’t true, why would you think it would be different for me?”
“You just always seem so open about everything,” Nick said.
“And I am, mostly. I’ve never denied who I am, I just don’t feel the need to correct people’s assumptions.”
“And who are you?” Nick asked with a lump in his throat.
“Nick,” Greg said, taking another drink of his beer, “let’s just say we play for the same team.”
TBC in Part Five
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R for language
Spoilers: Up to and including "Who Shot Sherlock?"
Disclaimer: Yeah, right.
Previous Parts:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Nick rolled over again. The bed in Jacqui’s spare room was fine, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it was the most comfortable bed in the world. Like the princess and the pea, Nick felt the tiniest discomfort. Though what he felt wasn’t under the mattress, but somewhere deep within, an emotion he had no desire to uncover. Memories of his dad kept surfacing as he closed his eyes – squeezed them shut – trying to usher the memories away and fall asleep, to no avail.
“I’m proud of you, son.”
Nick sat down on his couch in shock. He’d waited years to hear his dad say those words, and after the way he left Texas, never really thought he’d hear them. Never actually thought he’d hear anything from his dad and when he called out of the blue, pride was the last thing he thought they’d be talking about.
“You are?”
“I am. You turned your life around, got things all straightened out.”
“What are you talking about, Dad?” Nick was confused. His dad had never approved of his career choice, so he didn’t really think he was talking about making CSI III. And if anything, the rest of his life was more screwed up than it had ever been.
“I heard all about that business with the hooker, son. Now, that was quite a little mess, but I was just happy to hear that you were… involved with her. It was good news.”
Nick felt sick to his stomach. Kristy Hopkins was a friend, she meant something to him. Her murder devastated him, but all his dad could see was that she was a woman and that Nick fucked her. All that was important was that his son wasn’t a homo any more.
“It was a mistake, Dad,” Nick said evenly. “It didn’t change anything.”
“I don’t understand. You slept with her. Obviously you were attracted to her.”
“Yeah, Dad, I did sleep with her, but everything’s not black and white, you know? And if anything, it just reinforced what I already knew about myself.”
“It’s black and white for normal people, son. I’ve never had the urge to go to bed with a man.”
“And I doubt I’ll ever go to bed with another woman.”
Nick got out of bed, too agitated to sleep. He looked in the mirror hung over a chest of drawers and ran a hand over his face. His crimson-rimmed eyes were bloodshot, and he felt as good as he looked. He was almost ready to take some sort of sleeping pill, but not quite. He rarely took any kind of drug, alcohol being the one exception. He couldn’t stand being out of control, hated letting anything or anyone have that much power over him. He went to a psychologist once, and she attributed it to his molestation when he was a kid. He hadn’t gone back. It probably had something to do with it, but he hated shrinks who thought that your whole life was decided by one incident. It had changed him, sure, and it was part of what shaped his character, but it wasn’t the core of his identity. There were many facets of his life that made him the man he was.
He wondered what Greg was doing. He closed his eyes and sighed. It had been stupid to let Greg come with him. Not only had his presence caused tension with his family, but it was confusing the hell out of Nick. He was letting Greg get close, closer than he ever let anyone get, and it scared him. Greg was his friend, but Nick had always kept his friends at arm’s length. They probably wouldn’t describe him that way; he had always been tight with his fraternity brothers and other friends he’d made, but they only saw the part of him he left them see. Greg somehow saw beyond the exterior, and Nick didn’t know what to do with that. The fact that there were moments that Nick just wanted to grab him and kiss him senseless didn’t help the matter, especially when he didn’t think Greg would reciprocate. The thought of his lips on Greg’s, their bodies pressed together, stirred a yearning in his groin, and he grabbed his wallet and keys and left the room. He was almost to the front door when he heard someone behind him. Hoping it was Jacqui, he turned around hesitantly.
“Where are you going?” Greg asked, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets, thumbs hooked in the loops, and fuck Nick needed to get out of there before he yanked Greg’s hands out of his pants and replaced them with his own. Having those thoughts was all kinds of wrong for all kinds of reasons, including the fact that he felt like he was dishonoring his dad.
“Uh, just out,” he said.
“You want me to come along?” Greg asked, a little too casually. Nick could see a hint of hurt in his eyes, and he knew it was because he was going to leave without telling Greg. Not that Greg would ever intentionally let him know that it bothered him, all his attention was focused on Nick, on how he was doing.
“Yeah,” Nick said, though he really, really didn’t. The whole purpose of getting out was to stop thinking about Greg, but then maybe if they were out doing something, if he wasn’t just wallowing, he could keep his mind where it should be and out of his pants. Or Greg’s.
“Where are we going?” Greg asked as he buckled his seat belt.
“I don’t know,” Nick answered. Where do you go when your father has just died, a father whom you haven’t spoken to in a few years, who has practically disowned you, but whom you never stopped wanting to gain approval from, and you can’t stop thinking about jumping your friend and co-worker who just wants to be there for you in your time of grief? Nick’s obvious answer was a bar, but alcohol was a bad choice as long as Greg was with him. He was afraid he would do something he’d regret.
“Do you want to go to a bar or something?” Greg asked.
Well, hell.
“Yeah,” Nick found himself saying, as he started the car and headed in the direction of a familiar bar.
It wasn’t yet noon, but the smoke in Shorty’s was already thick. Nick didn’t think it ever really cleared out. Shorty’s was the definition of dive bar.
“Sorry,” he said to Greg as they sat down. “It’s not the nicest bar in town, but it’s where I always went when I didn’t feel like bumping into anyone I knew.”
Greg shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I’ve been in my share of pits.”
Nick smiled at that. Despite his big talk, Greg seemed so innocent.
“There are things about me you don’t know,” Greg said, taking a swig of his beer.
“Yeah?” Nick asked, glad to be talking about something other than his dad and what a disappointment he was to him. “Like what?”
Greg shook his head. “If I wanted you to know, I’d have told you.”
“Come on, now,” Nick said. “You brought it up.”
“Let’s just say that you’ve made assumptions about me, about my background and the things I’ve done in my life, and not all of them are correct.”
Nick eyed him, wondering.
“I mean,” Greg continued, “people make a lot of assumptions about you that aren’t true, why would you think it would be different for me?”
“You just always seem so open about everything,” Nick said.
“And I am, mostly. I’ve never denied who I am, I just don’t feel the need to correct people’s assumptions.”
“And who are you?” Nick asked with a lump in his throat.
“Nick,” Greg said, taking another drink of his beer, “let’s just say we play for the same team.”
TBC in Part Five
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no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 06:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:07 pm (UTC)stoleborrowed from my kids baskets or all the coffee I've begun drinking. I'm expecting it to die off any minute now...no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 07:42 pm (UTC)I loved seeing Nick fret over Greg, lol. And, aw! The flashback with his dad made me feel bad for him. Wonderful part! :)
no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 10:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 10:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 10:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-01 11:10 pm (UTC)it's beautiful anyway.
mary
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Date: 2005-04-02 01:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-02 02:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-02 09:53 am (UTC)OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! WHOWHATWHENWEREWHY!?! THAT'S NOT _ENOUGH_! *runs around in little circles* I REQUIRE MORE! _MORE_!
Thank you.
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Date: 2005-04-03 08:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-04 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-04 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-04 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-04 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-04 07:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-10-31 09:40 pm (UTC)Hope you update again soon, because I will really like to see where you take this!