Title: Two Reasons

Author: Nicci

Pairing/Rating: Nick/Warrick. NC17

Series/Sequel: Sequel to Friendship First. This story can be read as a stand-alone.

Archive: Yes at "Imagine," and WWOMB. Anywhere else, please asks.

Feedback: Yes, would greatly appreciate it.

Warnings: None

Summary: Warrick has an apparent change in heart. Nick struggles in a pool of confusion.

Notes: A while back, someone on the Warrick_N_Nick group issued a challenge that included a party for Gil, to show Gil’s blank look, and balloons, and some other stuff. Well, this is my version of that challenge. X-Freak, thanks so much for the beta job. All remaining mistakes, of course, belong to Warrick and Nick. You didn’t think I was going to take ownership, now did you? :-)

Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigations and its characters are the product of CBS Productions, Alliance Atlantis Communications, Touchstone Television, and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. I’m only borrowing the characters for fun, and when done, will graciously returned them back to their regularly scheduled program. This fan fiction is strictly for entertainment purposes.

Two Reasons
By Nicci
September 2003

"A man always has two reasons for what he does—a good one and the real one."
John Pierpont Morgan
~~~~

Warrick. His long, brown arms are swooping around a petite body, almost lifting her short stature off the floor. She’s laughing and grabbing Warrick’s shoulders to steady herself. The colorful bouquet of balloons float in the air and a single rope-string wraps around her hand, anchors the
balloons, prevents them from escaping her hand.

Nick is stunned into gawking at the unfolding scene. It’s shocking, unexpected, and as unusual as staring at an otter outside its watery den. If he’d glanced at the others in the break room, he would’ve discovered similar reactions. But in his case, his reactions mean more than that.

The kiss, it’s hot. Passionate, Warrick deepens the kiss. His fingers mix into heavy, wavy, hair as he’s maneuvering her head, positioning his lips on hers for something deeper.

The air in the room turns thick and hush, almost not breathable. The silence ripples down his back, spurring on the nervous jitters he’s beginning to feel. The jitters rapidly transforming, a surprised heat rushed through the pores on his skin. Rising to a boiling point, the blood flushed his cheeks to an embarrassing color.

"Wow, how does he rate the kisses of a beautiful girl?" Sara says.

Her question jerks him back from staring. He reminds himself it isn’t nice to gawk at people. The visual in front of him has shaken him in a way nothing ever has. He sticks his hands inside his pants pockets, searching for a calmness he doesn’t feel.

"Hey, everyone. This is Dani," Warrick says, waving his hand in the air for attention. For some unexplainable reason, she hits him on the arm and thrusts the balloons into his face. Then he goes through roll call like an emcee presenting his guests of marching band soldiers.

She smiles, and says, "Hi."

Like soldiers caught on the high note of discordant music, they all murmur "hi," including Nick.

Gil has this expression on his face that says, "Kissing isn’t allowed in my break room." Nick thinks, why the hell don’t you enforce that rule?

"This is for you, Gil," Warrick says, taking the bouquet of balloons from Dani and thrusting them into his hands.

Gil stares at the balloons in a way that’s unique to Gil Grissom: a blank expression of "What am I to do with this?" You can tell he isn’t used to this kind of attention. Discomfort was all over his face when they’d dragged him into the break room for the impromptu gathering.

He hesitates until Catherine gives him a little shove. "Thanks, Warrick and Dani," is all he could say still, looking confused.

"You’re welcome," Dani says, looking at Gil in wonder as he’s looking at the gift in his hand. Warrick smiles warmly, and Nick stares at Warrick. Their eyes meet over the top of Dani’s head, and just as quickly, Warrick shifts away and presses in close to her side.

Putting together a party for Gil was spontaneous. All the participants decided that a small spread of food and balloons would be nice. Warrick offered to bring in food and balloons. But, man, Nick didn’t expect the woman. Was she on the list or something?

Warrick and Dani.

Nice sound, phonetically anyway. But what the fuck, did Warrick just dig her up from somewhere? He thought the sound was supposed to be Nick and Warrick. Like how perfect
their names rhyme together.

Nick checks her out and he sees this one obviously doesn’t do drugs like Lily. Her eyes are big, bright, and intelligent and her skin is way too clear to have suffered with over indulgence of the illegal kind. Couldn’t say the same for Lily: eyes that showed signs of weakness, age, and the transparent haze from heroin usage. Nick sees that she’s beautiful, more gorgeous than Lily. Dani has classical features with a fine bone structure, sleek nose, and thin lips, set in a glowing beige skin-tone oval shaped face. And tiny, when she stands her fullest height she comes to Warrick’s shoulders.

Of course, she must be the heir apparent, the one that comes after Lily. Because, no way could Nick ever compete in this category, although he hadn’t thought he needed to try.

Obviously doing this rescue from the paws of an addicted woman is * out of the question *. Maybe Dani is secretly an axed murderer that Warrick has the misfortune to meet. Maybe Gil would receive a call to investigate a crime scene at her home. Nick would console Warrick and would give him the comfort he’d surely need. "Hey bro, you sure can pick them," he would say to Warrick.

And just maybe, he’s out of his mind and doing too much fantasizing. It appears by just looking at them that Warrick is in capable hands and this time he doesn’t need interference by him.

Confused, Nick wonders how Dani could know Warrick so well. She’s comfortably hanging onto Warrick’s arm, gazing at him, smiling and talking to Gil and Warrick as if she belongs there. When could Warrick find the time to fit her in his schedule between the times he was with Nick? Nick wants to ask, hell, he needs to know, but Warrick, he’s staying far away from Nick.

Nick bids everyone goodnight, a sort of waving to all at once. His last effort to communicate with Warrick non-verbally -- come on and look at me, man -- sucked. He can’t stay another minute. The party was great he tells Gil when he finally wanders over to talk to him. Who in turn tells Nick how surprised he was, and it wasn’t necessary for the team to go through the effort.

"Why not, you’re a great boss and we wanted to express our appreciation," Nick tells him, seeing Gil smiling brightly. At least someone will be happy going home tonight. But he doesn’t tell that to Gil, he wouldn’t understand, anyway.

He slips out of the break room with his blue cap riding on his head, which shields his eyes from the fluorescent lights above. Then he rushes across CSI parking lot to his Tahoe, parked among cars and similar trucks except his has a scratch mark running across the side of the driver’s door.
Probably some kid with nothing else better to do but mark up automobiles on the run. Seeing the scratch mark made him angry. Who wanted to ride in a damaged truck, anyway?

Fuck the scratch mark.

Nothing will be the same.

Nick yanks open the truck’s door, hops in, and throws his keys onto the passenger seat. Now that he’s away from prying eyes, shudders run through his body and moisture forms on tired eyes. He’d waited a long time before Lily appeared on the scene to get in line of Warrick’s radar. He
thought everything was going fine until tonight, until Warrick kissed Dani. And he has no idea what went wrong.

He needs just a few minutes to pull himself together, to mourn the plans he’d hoped he would share with Warrick tonight.

"Nick, Nick." He hears Catherine voice through the closed truck’s window. He turns his head slightly to the right and quickly uses the back of his hand to wipe his eyes.

"One minute," he says and grabs his truck keys from the seat. Turning on the ignition, he presses a button and the window slides downward in a smooth glide.

"Are you okay?"

"I’m fine, Cath," he says, lying. Damn, Cath can smell trouble a mile away. She’s always there for him.

Cath is peering into the semi-darkness. Looks straight at him, she says, "Are you sure? Your eyes are kind of bright."

"Stop mothering me. I said I’m okay." Annoyed, he knows the tone of his voice is giving him away.

Before she could respond, they hear talking. A group of people is coming out of the CSI building, and Catherine turns to follow them with her eyes.

"Hey, guys" Catherine says, waving. "It was fun. Have a good night."

Gil, Warrick and Dani wave back at Catherine. "You too, Cath. What’s left of it," Gil says.

Nick is surprised Dani attended the gathering for Gil. Really, it’s in the wee hours of the morning. They work the nightshift and their schedule could extend beyond the time the sun sets high in the sky. She must be in love.

Nick remains silent and hides in a spot of darkness the parking lights don’t catch through the windshield. He’s observing Gil, Warrick, and Dani talking among themselves. And so is Catherine. Several times, Warrick glances over at the truck. Nick sees this and wonders until Warrick’s arm curves around Dani’s shoulders. She returns the embrace and leans against him.

Her long hair is swinging below her shoulders as she’s looking up at Warrick talking to Gil. His arm slips down to her small waist and she pats him on his backside. Warrick must’ve said something outrageous because Nick hears laughter bouncing across the parking lot. Warrick smiles down at her and, although, the expression on his face is less clear in the dimming lights. Nick imagines the warmth the smile brings.

He knows the feeling of that smile, the sense of belonging, and the lust he feels when Warrick looks at him that way. He remembers the number of times he pulled back from kissing Warrick, losing the chance to capture the warmth of that smile on his lips. He didn’t want to overstep his boundary; yet, the urge to do so was strong. If only he’d known those times were missed opportunities, and now he won’t have another chance.

Nick starts up the engine to his truck. Guess he’s wrong about Warrick in so many ways. All this time and now he feels stupid, hurt, and betrayed.

/ "Warrick, man. You know I’m bi-sexual." /

/ "Yeah, okay. That’s cool." /

Warrick never did say, but when they were together, he didn’t need to. He feels the imprint of Warrick’s hand on his back whenever they’re out together, in public, mingling with the masses. Feels his presence overwhelming him when Warrick whispers an observation or something of the other in his ears. Feels that pull between them that makes him hard and breathless, and wished they would move to the next level.

"Oh god, Nick. I’m so sorry," Catherine says.

Nick whips his head around towards Catherine; he forgot she’s standing there. She’s touching his face. Fingers are skimming down the side, patting the moist skin. She says. "Damn him. I knew it."

"Knew what?" He says in a voice soft as a kitten meow.

"You’re in love with him."

He shakes his head silently denying her words.

"No, don’t. You can admit it. I’ve suspected for a while. But dammit."

The need to lie is heavy. Catherine is sharp, smart, an observant lady, and she has been around the block several times. Cath knows the lay of the land. "What’s wrong, Cath?" he asks as his head lolls against the headrest of the truck’s seat.

"I could’ve sworn he cared for you too. What happened?"

"I don’t know." And he doesn’t know for all the money in the world, but he doesn’t think Warrick is in love with him either.

It’s this thought that stays with him on his way home, not so much of Cath’s perception of Warrick in love with him. It’s the why this has happened now that bothers him. A question of why Dani and not him sort of thing, and it’s still there when he gets home and when he gets roaring
drunk, alone in his apartment.

Nick thinks. Lily, Dani, who the fuck cares? What different does it all makes now.

~~~~

White bed sheets stick to his sweaty skin. The smell drifting from the sheets is stale and sour, strong odor of liquor hovering around his nose.

The ache in his head is impossible, the pain is the size of a Carnival cruise ship thrashing heavily against a raging sea. How much did he drink, anyway? His stomach fights the vile undertaking of not upchucking his latest folly. Stagnant liquor in the stomach and insufficient nourishment couldn’t be good for anyone. He’s sure his inside is turning to rust.

What really awakens him is the shrill sound of the telephone that doesn’t thumps but screams from within his head. He utters a loud moan and grabs the hateful thing off its cradle. Eyes closed he mumbles, "Yeah, Stokes."

"Hey, Nick. Are you awake?"

Nick drags himself upright. "Hi." The voice on the phone catches him unaware. It’s the least of what he expects to hear. "What time is it, anyway?" he mutters.

Hesitation, then he hears, "It’s 2:00pm. In. The. Afternoon."

"Ha, ha," Nick says, sprawling on the bed. A hand begins to roam up and down his chest as the warmth of Warrick’s voice flows through him.

"Nick, about tonight,"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah man, wake up."

Then he remembers. "We’re going to the movies, right. Um, it’s my turn to pick out a show. I want to see "40 days and 40 nights."

"Isn’t that the movie about a guy that abstains from sex for 40 nights?"

"Yeah."

"Um, are you trying to tell me something, Nick?"

"No, bro. I heard it’s funny as hell. I thought it would be a good one to see."

"You would."

"Be nice."

"Nick. Look, I just called to say I can’t make it tonight."

"Oh." The nausea in his stomach that was fading, resurrects.

"Sorry, man. There’s a situation I need to attend to."

"Is it work related?" He has to asks even though he *knows * the something has a name written on it that spells D. A. N. I.

"Nah. I’ll see you at work."

"Sure. Call, if you need me."

"Thanks, later. "

Nick slumps down into the bed with the phone still in his hand after signing off.

"See you at work," Nick mimics, and his mind works through the meanings. Usually they’d hang out together on Saturday and Sunday, depending on the work schedule. All Nick can think of is that Warrick is dumping him because this is their first time not being together since they started
seeing each other on a regular basis.

The phone slides out of his hand. Nick is off the bed like a shot, off and running to the bathroom. He crouches over the toilet, in pain, relieving the contents in his stomach.

~~~~

Nick arrives at work and he discovers, to his dismay, Warrick hasn’t shown up, yet. It’s late and Warrick always arrives before him. He barges into Grissom’s office without permission and demands a reason why.

"Have you seen Warrick?"

"Excuse me, Nick. I’m having a discussion with Catherine."

Turning to Catherine, he says, "Sorry." Without missing a beat, Nick faces Grissom, "Well, have you?"

"What’s the problem, Nick? Can’t you wait until I’m done here?"

"No…"

"Gil, it’s okay. Talk to Nick. I’m going to the lab and check the evidence on my case. We’ll finish our conversation later," Catherine says.

"Thanks, Cath," Nick says.

Gil leans back into his chair and stares at Nick with displeasure. His mouth flattens into a straight line. Gil isn’t happy with the intrusion. Nick doesn’t care.

"Has something happened to Warrick?"

"And this couldn’t wait?"

"Honestly, no."

"You want to tell me why?"

"No. Well. He told me something about a problem. I’m just concerned."

"When did you talk to him?"

"Saturday morning."

Gil gives him a curious look. "He’s fine, Nick. Warrick is taking a couple of vacation days."

"Are you sure he’s okay?"

"As far as I know. Now, can we get back to work?"

"Sorry, Griss. Thanks."

Nick’s out of Grissom’s office like a rocket, more than a little embarrassed. He’s anxious, he wants to explode, hands coil into tight balls, and as he rushes through the hall, an idea flashes in his mind that Gil probably thinks he’s crazy. The drinking binge he indulged in over the weekend doesn’t help at all.

Catherine grabs and pulls him into the break room after he practically knocks her shoulder off in the hall, quite unaware of what he’s doing. He glances at the room, remembering, sees the balloons dangling in the air in a corner, debating whether to pop them just because. He’s too upset to face Cath directly.

"Nick, sit down."

"Oh man, Cath. I’m blowing it." Elbows on his knees, Nick scrubs his face in anxiety.

"I think you should calm down. What brought this on?"

"Warrick. He called and canceled our date last Saturday. Said something came up."

"Okay, but why would this upset you?"

"Cath, I’m not going to deny my feelings for Warrick. We’ve been hanging out together every weekend for the past two months. I find it strange this Dani shows up and Warrick acts out of character and takes off."

"Yeah, I was surprised. We put a rookie in his spot."

"I was all prepared to talk to him. You know, clear the air."

"Where you stand with him?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"This isn’t the place for it."

Nick sits up straight, facing Catherine. "You’re right. Man, I was furious. Still am."

"Nick. I know what I said the other night. But, could you’ve misunderstood Warrick’s intention? I never pegged him as either bi or gay."

Nick’s heart thumps in his chest. How many times has he thought the same over the past weeks? Never have they gone past just being together, never kiss, never done anything intimate. "I think we’re more than friends. How many guys do you know spend all of their free time together? We go to the movies, see sport games together, have dinner. I’ve even gone with him to his jam sessions with his friends. I can feel it. The way he hovers over me, his consideration when we’re out. There’s chemistry between us, Cath."

"Yeah," Cath says, shaking her head up and down. "Even Sara mentioned something about you two."

"Sara?" Nick frowns. He doesn’t have the time or energy to deal with her cynicism.

Cath flags her hand from side to side. "No worries there. She thinks you guys are cute."

Nick groans. "Yeah, okay. Right now, there’re no guys. Do you think he’s hooked up with this Dani?"

Catherine shrugs. "Honestly, I’ve no idea. Warrick isn’t exactly open about his personal life. We should get back to work. But Nick, I do think you should talk to him. You guys must clear the air because, you know, we all have to work together."

"Sure, that’s what I want."

"Just be sure you do it someplace private. Okay?"

Nodding in agreement, Nick says, "Thanks, Cath."

~~~~

Two weeks later and Nick has tried to engage in conversation with Warrick. He calls him at home and gets his answering machine. He leaves messages and never receives a return phone call. At work, they’re like two strangers working together for the first time. Tension is so thick between the two, not even a knife could cut through it.

Maybe it’s luck, but it seems quite annoying to Nick that Gil hasn’t put him on the same team with Warrick. And the reason why could be interference from Cath, who seems able to get through to Gil in a way no one else has. Nick certainly hopes not. He’s under enough strain, a constant feed to his well of anger. The ideas of betrayal and rejection and not knowing the reasons eat at him constantly. The last thing he needs is this unwarranted protection scheme from Gil and Cath.

Work at CSI keeps him going. He pours all of his concentration into his case files. Like now. Lost in the evidence of green, blue, and white imperfect circles mutating at the other end of the microscope, he takes a step backwards. Ready to move the equipment’s lever to another position when he senses that someone’s in the Lab with him.

Part 2

"Whoa," he hears the voice and a hand touches him at the small of his back, steadying him.

"What do you want?" Nick flinches away.

"I work here." Warrick parries back an answer.

Nick can’t help but look at Warrick. Ask a thirsty man what he’d do with water dangling in front of him. Nick fights the urge to touch, though. Everything about Warrick shouts unapproachable. Warning! Forge ahead at your own risk.

"Yeah." Nick gives Warrick his back as he looks through the microscope.

"Gil asked me to check the status on the evidence for the murder case," Warrick whispers.

"Gil can just come…" Nick whirls around with every intention of kicking Warrick out of the lab. The words hang in the air. Warrick has stealthily moved closer, he could just reach out and be right there. What shocks Nick, though, is his tired-looking eyes streaked with broken red vessels.
Warrick looks worn and sad, not the distant image he spotted a minute ago.

Is he imagining things? Nick wants so much to smooth away the pained expression he thinks he sees.

"Warrick, we need…"

"What I want is an answer to Gil’s question."

The mood, the expression, are gone like a wisp. Warrick glides away from Nick with a look of loathing on his face. Nick remembers the phone calls, the unanswered messages. He remembers this man is someone he doesn’t know. Friendship requires participation and just maybe this one isn’t worth saving. What regrets Nick may have had for his disgruntled behavior towards Warrick disappears.

"Tell Griss I’m still examining the evidence. I should have viable results in an hour or two." Nick responds in a brisk but professional tone. He goes back to work, putting Warrick out of his sight.

"I’ll let him know," Warrick says.

"You do that."

Nick steals a quick glance at Warrick as he treads to the door, "Warrick."

"Yeah?" He stops and looks over his shoulder at Nick.

"Tell Dani I said hello."

His eyes widen at Nick’s absurd request. "I will."

Oh fuck you too, * bro *. But why does his heart feel a knife has sliced it into pieces?

~~~~~

Another dreaded, ho-hum Saturday approaches and Nick has absolutely nothing to do. All of his Saturdays seem the same, which starts out having him staring at the sunlight filtering through the blinds, strips of light and dark dancing on his ceiling. It’s early, just past sunrise, with three hours of sleep and here he’s wide-awake, again. Like every Saturday and Sunday mornings. Like forever.

He’s a child, a miserable, distraught, lethargic child. His mother wouldn’t be proud of him right about now. His father would give him this stern look and tell him to get his ass in gear.

/ "Son, haven’t you learned yet that everything in life isn’t yours for the taking, and sometimes you have to make do with what you have." /

Lessons learnt here in Las Vegas, away from his politically driven, legally bound, straight lace family. He can do exactly what he wants and fail as many times as it happens without the heat of disapproval burning his back. He wants to go home but he can’t because there he would face not only his parents’ disapproval but their disgust as well.

/ "I’m pining after a man who doesn’t want me, mother. Can you help, please?" /

He wishes at some point in his life he’d confided to his sister. His sister is hip and liberal in her thinking. She wouldn’t reject him because of his desire for men.

He wishes he could get rid of the ache between his legs, preferably with the help of a certain man. He wished he could have a drink right about now, although he has given up hard liquor for now. Too much and his mind just spins and spins; he thinks about going home. He thinks about how that move would hurt him too much. Warrick wouldn’t be there. His parents wouldn’t understand.

He spreads his bare legs across the bed. His roving fingers twirl the curly hair just before the hand sweeps up and down his chest. He doesn’t remember the last time he had sex. He doesn’t remember his life from before. He’s going to die of sheer boredom.

He has to get up from this bed and move. Otherwise, he’ll become haunted. By a man slightly taller than he, having broader shoulders, and hips somewhat wider than his. He imagines how those hips would fit in the cradle of his body. He wonders what his pale legs would feel like wrapped around the broad part of the hips.

The man has a body that could stand a bit of exercise yet isn’t flabby. The face has character: moustache, a slight beard, and sexy, lush, rosy lips. His best features are his eyes. Eyes so green, it’s shocking to see them settled in a warm, walnut-brown, colored skin. He dreams of lush lips
are pressing against his. Feels the wet-warm of sense impression on his chest. Imagines the mouth slicking down his body; seeking, finding, and pleasuring him as he watches the low, simmering green lights inflame to a darken shade of lust. The eyes look up at him with more than just need.

Warrick.

The palm of his hands glide down to his stomach, the fingers touch the band of his brief, then dive through the opening. He’s pleasuring himself fed by his imagination of the tall, dark, man that he thought would be his and isn’t. He hears a groan, and realizes he’s alone. The fingers don’t stop the back and forth flow. He needs this, it’s been a long time; he’s almost there until…

Soft, curvaceous, and utterly female, she dares to interpose onto his daydream. With beautiful skin and mischievous eyes, she’s laughing up at the man of his dream.

His imagination doesn’t like the intrusion, and neither does he. He loses his arousal. He thinks he’ll never have sex again. Man, this is so sick. He has to move, do something.

Decides to do what everyone does on a boring Saturday morning. Take stock of his apartment and begins to clean as if his life depends on it.

To get his blood moving and to dull his mind in the act of performing mundane work, convincing himself he can’t go home. Not really, and he can’t have what he never had.

He changes the bed linen, he dusts the furniture in all of the rooms; he mops the floors, vacuums the carpet, shines the kitchen to a sparkling glimmer, and when he opens the refrigerator he learns that he needs food.

He isn’t hungry but he needs food, and the replacement of ordinary products and goods. He has to do something.

~~~~

At first, Nick walks up and down the aisles of the supermarket staring at the different foodstuffs completely confused. What is he supposed to be purchasing, anyway? Gazes at the different sized boxes of packaging float across his eyes. Pick something. Otherwise, he would be here forever and staring. His stomach grumbles. He realizes he hasn’t eaten breakfast. He decides lunch should be something light and easy, so he heads over to the fish counter.

He pulls a ticket with a number on it from the machine. There appears to be a group of people ahead of him. Which is fine with him; he’s not exactly in a rush to go home despite the lingering need to eat.

"Number 40," the grocer yells.

No one steps forward and the grocer calls the number again. A minute later, he yells number 41. A lady rushes up to the counter with packages in her hand. She wasn’t there when he’d walked up to the counter. If he’d known she was there, he probably would’ve walked away.

Nick stands firm to his grounds, can’t let a slip of a woman drive him away. Hasn’t he already given up too much for her?

She gives the grocer her order as she holds several packages tight within her arms. Nick wonders how she’s going to handle another one. Doesn’t the woman believe in shopping carts? On receiving her order she turns, moves her head up and down, side to side, looking for something or someone. Their eyes meet in mid-stream and her mouth curves into a smile. Nick is sure he frowns in response. She comes over to him and he wants to run away.

Fuck!

"Hey, Nick. How are you?" She’s an excitable little woman.

"I’m fine," he responds, politely. His mother would be proud.

"Do you need help with those packages?" Ah, man. Now he’s helping the enemy.

"Would you, please. I’m waiting for someone."

Nick relieves her of a box or two and stuff wrapped in cellophane packaging. He curses in silence. Just what he needs: a blissful and domestic picture of Dani and Warrick grocery shopping together.

"That was a great little party you guys gave your boss. I finally get to meet Warrick’s scientist friends. I don’t know how you guys do your job." Dani rolls up nose, frowns and gulps.

Good thing she’s good looking or otherwise that expression on her face would scare off the best of them. "Yes it was. Grissom deserves it." He looks over at the counter, wishing the grocer would hurry up and call his number.

"Warrick talks a lot about you," she says, her head bobbing here and there.

Weird chick, can’t keep still. Doesn’t Warrick know where to find her? Then it hits him, her words, and what she’d said. Warrick talks about him. "Hope it’s good stuff."

"Huh?"

He really doesn’t want to have this conversation. The ingrained need to be polite came through anyway. "I said, I hope it’s all good."

"Oh yeah, it is. He said that when you joined CSI you were the least experienced of the group. Your skills have improved greatly since then. He thinks you’re one good investigator."

There’re plenty of times he feels the people at CSI don’t appreciate his efforts, especially his boss. Warrick and him used to discuss job stuff when they were together. And why hasn’t Warrick shared those feelings with him. He’s smiling, suddenly feeling rather good about himself and the warmth of the words fills him with confidence. Warrick thinks I’m good investigator.

"Tell Warrick, I said thanks for the compliment."

Dani gives him a strange look. A shopping cart rolls to a stop in front of her. The cart is full with foodstuff brimming off the top. Nick blinks at the staggering amount of food. He hands over the packages in his arm to Dani.

"It’s about time." She complains to the woman handling the cart. "We’ll never finish on time at this rate."

"I couldn’t help it. The market is crowded. The worst time of day to shop."

Nick is surprised, relieved, and disappointed. He really expected to see Warrick instead of this giant, blonde-haired woman. She’s as tall as he is.

"Sharon, this is Nick, a friend and co-worker of Warrick’s."

"Hi. It’s nice meeting you," Sharon says, smiling.

"The same here," he says, giving her the once over. Not bad, he thinks, although he isn’t interested, just nodding at good looks when he sees it.

"We gotta go," Dani says, suddenly in a hurry. "We’re giving a party tonight and we still have a lot of work to do." She grabs the side of the cart.

"That’s because someone likes to wait to the last minute," Sharon says, giving Dani the evil eye.

Dani groans. "Don’t be telling Nick my bad habits. Nick. Why don’t you come to the party?"

"What?"

Dani gives Sharon a look. "A party. You know, dancing, food, and talking. I’m having one tonight with friends and I want you to come."

Taken aback at the invite, Nick tells Dani, "I don’t think I can make it."

"Oh please, yes you can. Please say that you’ll come." Dani begs, and again looks at Sharon, who has turned red from embarrassment.

What is she, a wicked evil witch feeding off miserable souls? She doesn’t look bitchy. He would never have thought she’s the gloating type. Hell, how would he know? Maybe she doesn’t know about him. He still doesn’t want to go to the party but maybe he needs to, to get some type of closure.

"Okay, I’ll come. Give me the time and location." He hears himself responding dopy like.

Dani actually claps her hands in delight. Sharon rolls her eyes and smiles at him. He thinks he’s truly a fool.

"Good." Dani yanks open her pocketbook for pen and paper, and starts writing down the information. "Here you go. I’ll see you tonight. And Nick, you’ll make me very happy. I
like you."

What arrogance. He smiles. "Do you want me to bring anything, a bottle of wine or something?"

"No. It’s nice of you to ask. We have plenty of food and drink. Our friends chipped in to help with the final touches. We do this several times a year. It’s how we keep in contact. You’ll have fun, so do come, okay," she says with emphasis.

"Dani, we have to go. Nick, it’s been nice meeting you."

Nick watches them leave, thinking he has lost his marbles. Or he’s a desperate fool for wanting to be around Warrick in any way he could.

His appetite, however, took off with that pushy bitch, Dani. Harsh, harsh, words but he now needs a drink.

~~~~

He knocks on the door expecting to see Warrick, actually has prepared himself for the eventuality. What he gets is not Dani or Warrick or Sharon, but another woman, who waves him
inside the house. She doesn’t ask who is he or why he’s there.

He enters a place filled with strangers at another stranger’s home who so happens to be the girlfriend of the man he wants. Nick shivers at the oddity of the situation. At first glance, the guests seem cool and casually dressed. He feels comfortable inside his skin. He has on dress pants and a rather unstylish shirt. The guys at CSI always tease him about his poor taste in clothing but it’s his style. He likes it.

Dani’s home is nice: large, airy, and unpretentious. The living room contains overstuffed sofa and chairs, covered in huge padding, thick enough for a man to sink in comfortably. Flickering flames from an assortment of candles give the place a warm glow, almost seductive. Guests are standing,
sitting, talking in groups, soft music filters through the air. But where’s the hostess and the host?

Nick weaves through the crowd of people, wanders into the dining room. More people, and the room is huge, the dining table can easily sit twenty people. They are helping themselves to the large spread of food. True to Dani’s word, it’s obvious that Nick’s offer to add to the abundant
food supply was unnecessary. He’s beginning to suspect money here. Maybe not extreme wealth but enough money to live well, party well, enough to furnish a house in upscale furniture and style. Warrick has done well.

He grabs a beer. A woman with luscious, straight, light-brown colored hair blinks her eyes at him.

"Nice party," he says to her.

"Always," she says. "You’re new here, aren’t you?"

"Is it that apparent?"

"Not really. I’m familiar with most of the people here," she says, smiling.

"Okay. I’m looking for Dani. Can’t seem to find her, anywhere."

"Ah, follow me. My name is Cindy," she says, extending her hand.

"Nick, here."

Her hand finds its way into his, soft and firm. She grabs him by his arm and pulls him away from the dining room into the kitchen, where he hears music coming from a piano. The sounds are beautiful and haunting.

"Beautiful music. Does Dani play?" For some reason, the image he has of her doesn’t coincide with piano playing.

"Dani? No way," she says, laughing. "That’s someone else playing."

There’s another crowd of people standing around listening to the music. Cindy pulls him down several steps into a room situated off from the kitchen.

He’s watching where he’s going, trying not to bump into anyone. Cindy is squeezing through; her hand attached to his wrist pulls him along. He’s holding onto to his beer, trying not to let any of the liquid splash through the opening on the top of the can. He thinks Cindy may like him.

"There she is." Cindy tilts her head towards Dani.

Oh yes, there she is, sitting right there, right there, with him. He should’ve guessed the piano player is Warrick. Warrick is wearing this sumptuous, dark-slate-blue-colored, silk shirt. He knows this because he was with Warrick when he made the purchase. Dani, her wavy hair framing around her face, looks like an angel in black: black hair, black top. Don’t they look great together? Isn’t this the reason why he came to the party, to see how well they fit together, to put an end to this ridiculous longing.

"Yep." He sighs softly. "That’s Dani." He takes a swallow of beer, hoping Cindy hasn’t detected the bitterness, the nastiness, and the jealous tone in his voice.

"Warrick is such a fantastic piano player. His music is wonderful," Cindy whispers.

"They look great together," he whispers back.

"Hey Nick!" Dani squeals, standing up and waving her hand.

Warrick is smooth, keeps playing the piano but the expression on his face is shock, which turns to disgust.

Nick, he’s feeling pathetic. The worst idea he has ever had, wanting to come here. He quickly turns and retraces his steps back through the kitchen, the dining room, and out into the living room, mindlessly squeezing through the crowd of people, hearing the laughter surrounding him.

Sometime during the migration to the front door, he drops off the can of beer. He’s out of there. Enough with the torture and stupidity, time to move on, now.

Before Nick can open the door, a hand grabs him around his arm. It takes all that he has to not punch out the person that’s touching him. Instead, Nick goes through the motions of push and pull, of catching himself before he does something stupid, and he jerks his arm out of the grasp of the person holding him. He thinks he accidentally bumped into someone. He turns to apologize to the person and the place is full with people. He wonders just how many people did this girl invite anyway.

Comes full face to Warrick and before long, he’s forcibly taken inside long, strong arms. Chest presses against a hard chest, lips grasping his, he has no choice but to sink into the embrace.

And there, right there in front of a bunch of people, Warrick kisses him. As if this is the most natural thing to do. Holding him tight and trapping him so he wouldn’t escape.

Touch of softness is everything he dreams and more. And he wants more, more and hungers for more, and opens up for Warrick. Lets him in, and Nick increases the tension, steps into the embrace, closes up the space between them and nearly breaks Warrick’s neck with a bear hug. The scent of cologne tickles his nose.

The kiss becomes brutal, and he isn’t letting go. Nick follows everywhere Warrick turns. Noses are bumping into each other, Warrick forcing his way inside of Nick’s mouth, sucking up all the air around them, and making them breathless. Nick grasps it, nips at it, and sucks the tongue deeply, lets Warrick has his way with him.

Denial has made the chemistry between them harder, more desperate, and neither one is willing to let go. It feels so fucking good to finally touch at will. No need for hesitation or questions, he can kiss as much as he wants, can insist that Warrick soothe him with his tongue, and enjoy the freedom of rubbing and pressing against the hard body belonging to Warrick.

"Whoa, it’s getting hot in here," someone yells.

"Damn, Warrick, nice…" a female voice says.

Remembering, oh man, there’re people here, Nick pulls away. Then he slumps into Warrick, sort of hiding away at his neck as Warrick catches his breath. Nick sees steaming green eyes raking over his face as Warrick cradles his head in his arms. Nick holds on dazed at what has just taken place.

Ignoring the onlookers, Warrick whispers into his ear, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I’m fine."

"Let’s get out of here. We need to talk."

"Sure."

Nick stands ready to face the hecklers expecting to see disdain and disgust on the partygoers’ faces. Instinctively, he moves closer to Warrick. It isn’t because he can’t handle them or their negative comments. He would go through any farce, any incident so he could be at this place with Warrick by his side.

He’s looking at Warrick waiting for his cue. Are they staying or leaving? Damn Warrick is relaxed, and has a smile on his face that makes Nick giddy with lust. And apparently, the people do not care. They’ve gone back to the business of partying, sliding them furtive smiles of warmth, of acceptance. Who are these people anyway? Friends of Warrick’s until Dani confronts them, and he remembers they’re her friends and this is her house. Fuck. What are they going to do?

His heart beats trouble, double time, and prepares him for the excruciating undertaking he’s sure will be happening. Coming between lovers has never been his thing. Stealing one is against his belief and one should be free before setting out into another relationship. He isn’t the type of person to steal, not ever, but, dammit wasn’t he here first? Nick isn’t certain about that considering how comfortable Warrick is with Dani, her friends, and how they seem to accept Warrick.

Nick slides away from Warrick and actually turns around to leave. A hand grabs him about his waist, and stays there. Again. This time he doesn’t hesitate to go with the pull, and sinks into Warrick’s side.

"It’s about fucking time." Dani’s hands are grasping her hips as if she’s the supreme authority, and what she says goes.

"Huh," Nick murmurs.

"Dani, you know I love you, right," Warrick says.

Nick flinches. Warrick squeezes his waist and smiles at him.

"You damn well should after all the trouble I go through for you."

The tension Nick feels is getting thicker by the seconds.

"I owe you my life."

Warrick turns Nick loose and strides over to Dani. Gives her such a big kiss that Nick feels not only embarrassment but also, he sees the fucking green monsters.

She hits him on the arm and laughs. Nick remembers a similar episode from weeks earlier. He’s confused more so than before.

"Oh no, buster. You owe me more than a life. I’m adding this to the ever-growing list. Next time, bud, and I sincerely hope there won’t be a next time, don’t’ use me as a camouflage."

"Yes ma’am."

And she smiles; a beautiful one at that for someone who has just lost her man to another man.

"Now, go you two. Nick, take care of him, okay? Keep in mind he can get a little thick in the head, sometimes."

When Warrick leads Nick out the door with his hand on his shoulders, Nick looks around and says, "Warrick, what was that about?" But nothing can take away the happiness he feels, even the convoluted relationship of Warrick and Dani. Warrick is leaving with him and that tells him a great deal, that he’s the one that matters.

"We’ll talk at your place, okay? I’ll met you there."

"Oh yeah." Warrick would have his own car. Nick isn’t thrilled with the separation; he still thinks this is a dream. For assurance and just because he can, he grabs Warrick’s face and kisses him. The kiss is a reminder to them both that something has changed between them.

Part 3

The drive home to his apartment is long and nerve-wrecking. Nick couldn’t get there fast enough and when he parks in front of his apartment complex, he looks around hoping that Warrick has arrived already. No such luck. He enters his apartment and immediately stops and thinks what if Warrick has changed his mind and decided he wants no part of him.

He tells himself to get a grip. Warrick wouldn’t be that cruel.

Suddenly, Nick bursts out laughing; for once his place is actually spotless and clean. As if fate knew something good was coming his way. He leaves his front door ajar.

He strides into the kitchen; jerk opens the refrigerator door, gets beer, and snaps the tab off the can with more force than necessary.

Half of the bitter liquid stings flowing down his throat when he hears, "Nick?"

Relieved, he responds, "In here, man."

Warrick strolls into the kitchen looking very serious, but then most time he looks that way. Nah, not true, only at work. "You want a beer?" Nick is offering.

"Sure, why not." Warrick is sounding less than certain right about now.

Ah, this is going to be rough, Nick thinks. So, he pulls out another can of beer for himself, and two beers for Warrick. Lowering the playing level with beers, he snickers to himself.

"Let’s go into the living room."

~~~~

They both were on their second can of beers, drinking in silence. The running commentary from the voice on the television is the only noise in the room. Neither one pay much attention to the voice filling up the quiet spaces. The tension in the room is taut and thick. It’s almost strange; there’s never been a time they couldn’t talk to each other. Sitting on the sofa, fingers playing with the moisture on the cans and with a foot of distance between them, reminds Nick of the changes.

"Warrick, talk to me."

Wet circles dampen Warrick’s jeans as he sit playing with the beer can. Typical lines carve deep on his forehead, and his eyes peer into space, clearly, Warrick is uncomfortable. Is it frustration, wariness? Difficult to surmise his mood in the quiet of Nick’s living room.

Warrick sighs. "Can I say I was attacked by a fit of insanity?"

"You can. Don’t think it will help the situation any." No glib response could erase the emotional trauma Nick has gone through.

"You’re right. It’s not easy to explain. I feel less than I should."

"I thought I’d done something, Warrick." Nick moves to the edge of his sofa, elbows on his knees as his head swivels to the side to face Warrick. It’s a position Nick takes when he needs to concentrate, to project the seriousness of whatever is going on at the time.

"No, you haven’t done anything. It’s all me, Nick."

"I was beginning to believe that I read the signals wrong. That maybe my sexuality is a problem."

"No man, that was never the problem." Warrick moves closer to Nick and nudges his shoulders.

"I don’t know, maybe you could start with Dani."

"Dani." A soft smile curls on Warrick’s face. "She’s one of my best friend. We attended ULV at the same time, and have remained friends since graduation. Remember what she said at the party about camouflage?"

"Yeah."

"Well, she was exactly that, except at the time it happened, she didn’t know. Man, was she furious."

"How so?" Just once, he wants Warrick to end the mystery about Dani.

"I went a little too far that night at Gil’s party. Dani was upset but she kept her cool until she got me home. Did she let me have it?" Warrick shakes his head and scrubs his face as if he’s relieved not to ever experience it again. "She already knew about you, and she told me just because I’m insecure is no reason to hurt you."

"Wow, and all this time, I thought… Nah, I can’t say it."

"Oh, I can imagine what you thought. She’s a bit direct. Means well, and most people love her. She loves her friends dearly. And if she thinks you’re wrong, you’d better start running for the hills."

Nick leans back against the sofa and puts his hand on Warrick’s thigh. Warrick weaves his fingers in with Nick’s. "Should I be thanking, Dani?" Nick asks, smiling at Warrick. Warrick gives Nick one of those half smiles that says, "yeah, right."

"Sharon hinted that Dani was planning to talk to you. I never thought she would move so fast."

"Okay got it. So that would explain the invitation and conversation at the supermarket."

"Scared you didn’t it."

"More like I wanted to punch out her lights. Very ungentlemanly. Really, I figured Dani knew nothing about me. She felt it was okay to invite to me to the party. But man, I couldn’t help thinking she’s one bitchy woman."

Warrick bursts out laughing. He brings Nick’s hand to his mouth and kisses his palm. Nick stares in surprise. There’s a lot more to Warrick and he couldn’t wait to discover the little things about him. Still holding onto his hand, Warrick says, "Don’t let her hear you. Your ass will be in deep trouble."

Nick leans against the sofa and stretches his arm on the back, strokes the nape of Warrick’s neck. "I thought you were angry at me when I showed up there. You looked disgusted."

"Not at you. Never at you." Warrick moves and Nick’s hand slips away. His eyes penetrate Nick’s with an intensity that heats up his skin, has Nick shivering slightly with discomfort from the hardening in his pants. "I was disgusted with myself. I was wrong. I miss you, Nick."

"I miss you too, but why, I still don’t get it."

"The more time we spent together, the more I became afraid. It’s as simple as that and as difficult. My relationships never seem to work out. After Lily, I became cautious. When we were together, I was feeling it. Man, was I feeling it real bad. I panic, thinking this couldn’t work out."

"Have you ever heard of communication? You should’ve said something Warrick."

"Yeah and if it didn’t work out?"

"How would you know if you didn’t try?"

Warrick closes his eyes and sighs with his whole body. Both of them have had relationships that haven’t turned out well. His last one was with Kristy and she is dead. Warrick was with Lily, though, Nick doesn’t know how deep it was between them, except Warrick was hurt. Nick wanted to show him differently, that being together didn’t mean instant failure.

"Man, do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? Long before Lily. I wanted you to see me, afraid that if you did, you would be disgusted by what I am. I trusted you, Warrick."

"God, I’m sorry Nick." Warrick throws his head against the back of the sofa and stares at the ceiling.

Nick doesn’t intend to let it end there. Warrick may not trust him or he may not trust himself, but Nick believes in them. Believes in Nick and Warrick more than ever now, he has to, he has no choice. Whatever trust issues Warrick has, well, they’ll have to work through them. Right now, he
wants, no, needs something else from him.

Nick stares hungrily at the bare skin on Warrick’s throat and the curly hairs spotting his chest. The brown skin peeps through, surrounded by the silky blue shirt.

Nick climbs onto Warrick’s lap, straddles his legs, and sniffs the bare skin. Tip of the tongue leaves a wet trail from underneath the chin to the base of Warrick’s neck. Nick likes the salty taste and the smell of the spicy cologne. Warrick groans, grabs Nick by his hips, and pulls him closer. "Do you want to do penance?" Nick whispers into Warrick’s ear.

"Will it hurt?" he murmurs.

"It should considering… But no, I don’t think so," Nick says, smiling.

"Nick, we work together. What if this doesn’t work out, how are we going to manage at our jobs?" Warrick’s hands are threading through his hair. Pressure tilts back his head and Nick sees the concern on Warrick’s face.

"Stop thinking, man." He has always admired Warrick’s analytical ability but now isn’t the time or place for it. Warrick needs to just live for the moment, and loosen up and enjoy.

"Tell me something." He’s nibbling on Warrick’s earlobe.

"Tell you what?"

"How many…?" he asks, rubbing his palms across Warrick’s shoulders, down his sides, and enjoying the silky fabric under his skin.

Amused. "You think that look will help get you an answer?"

"I don’t know. Will this help?" Nick licks over Warrick’s lush lips.

"If I understand the question correctly, a man never tells. What you need to know is that I can handle it. Handle it very well."

"Oh, arrogance," Nick says, mumbling. He’s battling for supreme position inside Warrick’s mouth, teasing the tongue as Warrick tries to explore the spaces within.

"Come on and show me."

Nick slides off Warrick’s lap, grasps his hand, and drags him along. "You can put that arrogance to good use in here," he says, as they both enter a sparkling clean bedroom.

~~~~

Maybe Nick shouldn’t have teased Warrick because the man knows what he’s doing. Has his body strung so tight, pluck him once and he might break. Nick hasn’t had sex in a long while.

He could’ve stalked the seedy places in town, knows the bars and the nightspots that cater to his needs. These places, though, don’t offer him what he wants, what he finds as he lies within Warrick’s arms. Forgets them the minute he discovers himself as a beep on Warrick’s radar: more than friends, less than lovers.

And when he lost the connection with Warrick, he still couldn’t visit those places for self-gratification.

Somehow, waiting is all the sweeter, the ideal of reserving something of himself for Warrick, who’s kissing and licking the life force right out of him, is just right. Showing him that yes, Warrick does know how all of this goes.

Lying spread open on the bed, Nick is bare, vulnerable, and wanting. Warrick has massaged, nibbled, stroked, and kissed every part of his body. Nick, panting through the sensations, resisting, squirming on sheets damp with moisture, his cock so hard, is begging for attention. Warrick sets him on fire and ignores the place Nick would rather have him be. Kisses the soft space between his thighs and groin area, so close and so bad, and what Nick gets is the hair on Warrick's face grazing against his sensitive skin as a thank you.

He rolls his body upward, an elbow shouldering his weight. Nick wants to see, beads of sweat trailing down to his eyelashes, dripping over into eyes glazed with lust. Warrick. His Warrick. Playing him like a fiddle, stringing him along, delaying the inevitable. Making him wait, wait, a thousands years, he needs him, always has.

"God.... Warrick. If you don't...." the words slow through a peak of pleasure. Warrick must sense. Nick caresses Warrick’s hair, the skin on his forehead, gentle presses of encouragement until finally he feels hot, wetness overtaking him. That's a yes! Nick falls back into the bed losing the desire to hold himself upright. His chest arches into the air as waves and waves of sensation overtake him.

He's done. Couldn't resist another second.

Reaching for the body crawling over his, seeing Warrick's face soften in arousal, feeling another kind of wetness dragging across his skin, he's pulling Warrick down loving the weight and pressure on his skin, and holding him tight within his arms. "I had sex," he whispers, stupidly.

"Yeah, you did," Warrick says, and kisses him on the lips.

He doesn't appear upset by the nonsense that trickles from Nick's mouth.

"With you, only with you," Nick says, cradling Warrick’s head on his shoulder.

"I want you." Warrick says, murmuring.

~~~~

He awakens and stares at the ceiling, watching the sunlight slip through the Venitian blinds on the window. Every single morning, on bright and sunny days, dark and light dance across his ceiling. Yet, it's different, he knows, wincing from sore muscles. It's different because this isn't a Saturday morning, and he for once, isn't alone in bed.

A brilliant smile emerges. He knows this, he knows the shape of his smile, knows the curve of his cheeks, he feels so damn good, the smile is nothing but brilliant.

"Oh man," he whispers and stretches out his arms and legs to encourage blood circulation.

An arm steals around his chest and pulls. Nick rolls closer to the warm body and strokes the sides in a gentle motion. He comes face to face with a sleepy Warrick. His eyes are half closed in a slumber.

"You okay?" He hears Warrick mumbles the question, still half asleep.

"Man, I’m more than okay."

"Good, then come here."

"Good morning," he says and kisses Warrick almost chastely on the lips. He snuggles in closer, their legs entangle, and Nick sneaks his hand between Warrick thighs. Taking pleasure in rubbing the soft skin, fingertips circling, and the small hairs grazing against the skin, movements are small and inches upward until the tip of his finger brushes against the sack between Warrick’s legs.

"Morning." Warrick groaning in his neck, his body gently thrusting into Nick’s hand, and Warrick mutters, "You do know what you’re starting, right?"

"Who me, I’m innocent, man." Just to show how innocent he is, Nick swipes Warrick’s growing cock, from the base to the tip.

"Umm…" Warrick’s says breathlessly and jerks as if the touch scorches him.

"Nick if you keep this up, you know what happens next."

Slithering down his chest, Nick kisses the dark colored skin, rubs the hair on the chest, and pulls a nipple between his lips. At first, he sucks gently, loving the harsh breath escaping from Warrick. Love hearing the moans sweeping across his ears. He tests the skin with his tongue wondering if the taste would be the same as last night, wondering if he could handle it again this morning despite the fact his muscles are screaming abuse.

This very morning and Nick, of course, wants to mark the occasion that this morning, this very morning, is just different. He wants to celebrate with Warrick and have the memory of this morning forever indelible in his heart.

Maybe Warrick reads minds. Or could it be they’re on the same wavelength. Both desiring the same that they can’t get enough of each other, Warrick is having his way with him. Rolls on top and buries Nick into the bed, smothers him with the unique scent of Warrick.

"Nick." Warrick moans into his throat as he laps the skin into shivers.

"Yeah?"

"I want…"

And Nick doesn’t wait for Warrick to finish. He finds what they need, rolls the condom on Warrick and Warrick prepares him. Nick wiggles and slides his legs around Warrick’s hips, arches into him, and gives himself up for the taking.

"I want," Nick says, "the same as you do."

And he loves it, stroking Warrick’s back, thrusting to meet him, nipping the skin on the shoulders, enjoying the friction his hard cock receives against Warrick’s hard stomach. Yeah, he’s going to remember this always.

"I love you." Warrick says, thrusting deeply inside of Nick. He gasps with amazement staring into the glazed green eyes.

"God, you’re beautiful," Warrick says. His breath hitches when Nick clenches tightly around him.

Nick, pushing and twisting just right, finds the rhythm for something deeper between them. Running his hands over the sweaty body that’s moving in him and around him, shivers from the pleasure of listening to what he’s doing to Warrick. The moans and grunts, his unshakable Warrick is melting in his arms. Unshakable about his work, his profession, his ideals, his desire, and yet, uncertain about what was meant to be in love with him. Love isn’t a science, something to evaluate under a microscope. It’s about risk and, compromise, learning about the other and, taking a chance. They’re so good for each other, they’re friends, they’re lovers. They know each other in a way; it’ s time to learn the other side, the emotional side of giving, and receiving, and just being.

"Oh fuck," Warrick grunts.

Nick murmurs, "Yeah." Soothing Warrick with a tongue to his neck.

Warrick slithers to his side, grasping for breath and pulling Nick with him. Sweaty and wonderfully satiated, Nick reaches up for a kiss, stroking the moist skin, the thumping of their heartbeats slowly recede to a normal pace.

"Warrick? Can you handle it?" Hints at the change in meaning he’d expressed last night.

Chuckling softly into Nick’s hair, "Yeah, baby. I can handle it. I love you."

"Good. I love you too, man."

"Yeah."

~~~~

Nick and Warrick are waiting for the rest of their guests. As a couple, they’re having their first dinner at Nick’s place. It’s small and private, put together as a thank you to close friends, the ones instrumental in bringing them together.

Not everyone who knows them knows about their relationship. In honesty, Nick and Warrick had decided to wait to tell the gang at CSI except for one person.

Catherine is sitting next to Nick in his living room, sipping on a glass of wine. Warrick has gone to answer the front door.

When Catherine sees Warrick kissing the newly arrived guest, she huffs in indignation. They do look hot together, a short, feisty woman in the arms of tall, dark, and handsome man.

"Nick, isn’t that Dani?"

"Huh uh."

"Why is she here?" Catherine asks, confused.

Before Nick could answer, Sharon steps through the door, hugs and kisses Warrick.

"They’re our guests, the ones we’re waiting for."

"Aren’t you worried about Dani? You know, because they were once together as a couple."

Nick can feel the wicked smile tugging at his face. He knows more now, about Dani, and the least he has to worry about is Warrick and Dani. They are best of friends, and Nick knows he’s included in the friendly circle. He has met and hung out with more people than all the time he’s been in Las Vegas since he and Warrick has become a couple.

"Cath, she’s not the enemy. Take a look."

Catherine follows Nick’s direction and he hears her gasp. The wicked smile on his face turns into a full-fledged grin, a mouth splitting grin.

Cath whips her a head at Nick and says, "Oh my. You’re in so much trouble."

And gives him the evil eye because now she gets it. There was never a Warrick and Dani, ever. It has been and always will be just Dani and Sharon, who’re now standing on top of each other, so close; you couldn’t put a hand between them unless you shove. Sharon has grasped and pulled Dani flush to her front, arms encircling her waist, hands rubbing her stomach as they talk to Warrick. It’s a snapshot of love, devotion, and loyalty, just to Dani.

The word bitch never enters his mind.

The End.