nickngreg | Summer Love prompt (Reply)

Better late than never, I suppose. Just a little silly oneshot for the Summer Love prompt for September. And, coversely, the first fic I've posted on here, so be gentle. I have other fics on ff.net....my username is HappensToBeMe. If you want to read other stories I wrote.
Anyway.

Title: Exhausted
Rating: T (suggestive...er...images? content?)
Summary: Greg forgot to drink water.

Of all the seasons, Greg hated the Vegas summer the most. Crime did not take a summer vacation, and so, in some of the hottest temperatures he had ever felt, Greg would be in the sun measuring tire tracks or printing vehicles. And it did not help that summer heat made Nick Stokes all the hotter, no pun intended.

On one such scene, Greg found himself on his hands and knees. A shooting had happened in a nice suburban neighborhood, and naturally the damn cartridge casings had rolled under the parked cars on the street. Right in the middle too, so instead of just bending over and picking them up, Greg had to lay on his belly and stretch to reach the casings. The heat of the asphalt scorched his stomach and chest as his gloved fingers just brushed the last casing he reached for. He felt several beads of sweat roll down his temples and he grunted with victory when his fingers closed around the metal cylinder. Squarely smacking the back of his head on the underside of the car, he peeled himself off the hot street and bagged his precious evidence. At least today Nick was working a case with Warrick in Henderson. It was not that Greg did not want to see Nick; he always wanted to see Nick. Wanted to see all of Nick.

No, it was more of what seeing Nick did to him these days. After coping with a severe crush for all of seven years, Greg was not sure he could hold his tongue or his bodily control. Especially in this heat. Nick always wore tight t-shirts, it was his staple uniform. But in the Vegas sun, the shirt clung to his contours even more, leaving absolutely nothing to Greg’s fevered imagination. Not to mention the dewy sheen of sweat that always settled on Nick’s forehead, one Greg would always imagine Nick would have after they fucked. It was always a wonder to Greg how he could be sweating bullets but Nick would only be a little damp along his hairline. Must be the Texan in him, God knows they have some rough summers.

“Greggo, what d’you have there?” Greg nearly jumped out of his skin and singed his hand on the blazing mirror of the car he was leaning on. Nick was walking toward him, and damn him, he was wearing a dark red shirt. The dark red shirt. The one that was the best of the best in the shirtdom of Nick. Greg tried to swallow, but the combination of the desert air, complete shock, and mild arousal left him choking.

“Nick,” he rasped, “I thought you were with Warrick.” Nick came to rest in front of Greg, holding out his hand for the evidence bag Greg was clutching.

“It was just a B&E. Print, hit, arrest,” Nick drawled. Maybe it was the sun getting to his head, but Greg could have sworn his accent was growing thicker with the rise in temperature. “Griss told me to come check up on you.”

“Oh, great. Griss still thinks I need checking up on.”

“Naw, just some help. Get you out the heat sooner, you know?” Greg shrugged noncommittally and handed Nick the evidence bag, shivering in spite of the weather as their fingers brushed together. “Anything else?”

“Not really. I found a bullet lodged in the brick wall over there,” Greg pointed, “And the gun under that car. The perp must have tossed it after shooting out the windows of the house.” Greg took a step forward and swayed a little, his knees turning suddenly to gelatin. His breathing was louder in his ears, and his head was spinning, making him stagger further. He could hear Nick’s voice far off, but then his vision turned white, then yellow, then black. He did not even feel the heat of the pavement as it hit his face.

There was a dim buzzing engulfing his brain. Greg groaned and rolled over to shut his alarm clock off. Only it was not there. In fact, he was not even sure he had moved. He gave his head a little shake but immediately regretted it as a wave of nausea rolled over him. He cracked his eyes, head screaming at the light. He was laying in the back of his Denali, with the windows open. He was pretty sure the truck was moving, but he was definitely not driving. He opened his eyes a little wider, recognizing the form in the driver’s seat.

“Nick?” he rasped, his throat dryer than before. He felt the Denali slow and stop.

“G?” Nick turned around in the seat to look at Greg. “Are you dead, man?”

“What happened?” Greg asked as Nick shoved a bottle of water in his lax grip.

“I have no idea, G. You were talking one minute and then the next you were drooling on the pavement. I think you have heat exhaustion. I’m driving you to the hospital.”

“No. No, I don’t think I need a hospital,” Greg said as he sipped the water, feeling a little better with each sip. “The water is really helping. I was pretty dehydrated, I guess.”

“Didn’t you drink water while you were working?”

Greg shook his head and immediately felt the flush of embarrassment color his cheeks. “I guess was concentrating a little too hard on getting all the evidence.”

“Are you sure you don’t need to go to the hospital? We’re almost there. We could just get you checked out.”

“No, I’m okay. Really,” Greg said, as Nick gave him a disbelieving look. Nick nodded and turned back to face the windshield again. It was a tense moment before Nick said something that made Greg’s heart flutter.

“You were saying things while you were out.” Oh, God. What had he said? Knowing himself, he had probably confessed his undying attraction to Nick, especially Nick clad in red t-shirts. He probably spoke such outrageous nonsense that the real reason Nick wanted to go to the hospital so badly was to check him into the psych ward.

“Nick—I—whatever I said, I didn’t mean. It was the heat exhaustion talking.” Nick was looking at him uncertainly through the rearview mirror.

“That’s too bad. I’d like to see my red t-shirt on your bedroom floor, too.”

Of all the seasons, Greg loved the Vegas summer the most.