Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Title: Seven Miles from the Sun
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned
by CBS, Bruckheimer Productions, et al. No money is being made and no copyright
or trademark infringement is intended.
Summary: Nick doesn't want Greg knowing all his secrets, but to Greg it's just
coffee.
Notes: It seems like the writers glossed over Nick's abuse, and I wanted to see
how it might manifest itself in his reactions to things. No warnings necessary;
it's really subtle and most likely missable, but it was an exploration I wanted
to make. Crossposted on LJ; my apologies if you see it more than once.
There's someone leaning up against the passenger side door of Nick's truck when
he comes out of the building and the glare of the sun on the washed out asphalt
and sand make the world a too-bright white space in the moments it takes for his
eyes to adjust to the light. As the brightness comes down around him he
recognizes the casually sprawled figure and then Greg gives Nick that
unmistakable grin that sets Nick's pulse to a hard staccato rhythm that leaves
him a little more breathless than he'd like to admit.
He wonders how long Greg's been waiting on him; it's almost half an hour after
the end of shift and everyone's cleared out until day shift comes in but Nick's
got the next couple days off and he wanted to make sure there weren't any loose
ends he forgot to tie up. Apparently the wait wasn't too long for Greg, though,
because he pushes himself off the truck with the same easy smile on his face.
"Hey."
"Hey, G," Nick says, and as he gets closer he can see Greg's wearing sunglasses.
He's never seen him in sunglasses before, which strikes him as odd, but they
look good. Really good, and he's not sure where this sudden lustful attitude's
come from. Yeah, sometimes Greg gets under his skin, but it's been a long night
and he's got a lot of drudge work ahead him before he comes back to work again
and his reaction is all wrong. He thinks maybe it has something to do with the
way Greg was leaning up against his truck like he belonged there, like he'd wait
Nick out as long as he needed to if it meant he could climb up into the truck
and feel the too-cold blast from the air conditioner on his heated skin and wait
for Nick to ride him home.
He's sure from the smile playing around Greg's lips that he caught Nick staring
and maybe he's laughing at him, but without seeing Greg's eyes he can't be sure.
Nick can't decide if it's better that way or not.
"Here," Greg says, pushing a box into his hands, and Nick didn't even notice he
was holding it. It's wrapped in blue and gold paper, awkward creases and too
much tape, and it makes him grin to know that Greg wrapped it himself.
"What's this?"
"It's a present," Greg says, almost laughter on his lips as he leans back
against the door and it's like an invitation because Nick's body would fit right
up against his and he's always thought Greg would taste sweet and now he really
wants to know.
But it's only an invitation to him and the last thing he needs to be doing is
accosting Greg in the parking lot, so he shakes his head to clear his thoughts
and squints at Greg in the sunlight, wishing for his own sunglasses. "What for?"
"Housewarming."
"House--how did you know?" Grissom and Bobby are the only two people he told;
Grissom because the change of address forms had to go through Nick's supervisor
and Bobby because he and Sam and Lily come over for dinner once every couple
weeks. They even offered to help him move, but this is something Nick's been
looking forward to and it's something he wants to do on his own. Bobby
understood and didn't push, but Nick didn't trust the other CSIs not to make a
big deal out of it, so he kept it as quiet as he could.
Greg tenses a little, afraid he's made a misstep, and shrugs. "I pay attention.
You've been collecting boxes around the lab for a while and, uh.I know the
calendar."
So Greg knows; knows it's a year to the day and no more, knows Nick's had
something to prove. He hates him for a brief flash of a moment because this is
private; it was a private trauma and a private weakness and it was supposed to
have a private resolution. He hasn't even told his parents yet, won't until the
phone number change is done and maybe even then he'll just give them the new
number and no other explanation. Greg's not supposed to know, not supposed to be
able to imagine how Nick's been counting down the days, how he's been pacing the
floors, how he hasn't been able to sleep and how he still jumps at the slightest
noise; how he has to get up at least three times after he's lain down to check
the house, how he hates to shut the doors, how he still feels like a victim even
after a year. There are things that he maybe wants Greg to know about him,
certainly things he wants to know about Greg, but this.this was never up for the
taking.
He's been silent too long because Greg's biting his lip, standing stiffly with
his arms crossed. "I'm sorry. Look, I--"
Nick can feel the scowl on his face so he tries his best to school his
expression into something that doesn't show Greg what he's feeling quite as
clearly. "No, it's Okay. I--"
"--didn't want anyone to know. I know. That's why I waited out here and not." he
gestures vaguely, still cautious, then pulls his sunglasses off. "I would've
just dropped it off at your new place, but I don't know where you're moving to
and I'm sure you don't want any of us to know. I just.wanted to wish you good
luck, I guess."
Nick can see that Greg's not even sure why he did this; to him it was probably
just a goodwill gesture with no second thought or ulterior motive, just
something to let Nick know Greg's thinking about him. He wasn't doing anything
but being nice and Nick feels a hot rush of guilt wash over him. Greg wasn't
trying to pry into his life or go looking for his secrets or undermine Nick in
any way. He was just being thoughtful in that quiet way he has, the same way he
keeps the ice cream stocked in the break room even though everyone knows the
girls eat half of it or the way he leaves a riddle on the sign-in board on days
everyone needs a moment's distraction.
"So can I open it?" Nick asks, and he gets a relieved and tentative smile from
Greg in return.
"Well, it's not gonna do you a whole lot of good in the box."
Nick smiles and reaches past Greg to unlock the door, leaning in a little too
close and this time he didn't mean to, but Greg doesn't flinch away and Nick
swears he can almost taste the sweet of Greg's skin. But this isn't the time or
place, so he concentrates on unwrapping the box, tossing the paper onto the
seat. He looks at the label on the bag and tries to figure out how the hell to
pronounce it, then settles for, "Coffee?"
Greg grins. "Guatemala Huehuetenango," and it just rolls off his tongue. "It's
not the forty bucks a pound stuff, but it's still pretty good."
This time it's easy for Nick to grin back. "What, you think my tastes are
plebian?"
"Nah. I Just thought you'd like this better. It's, uh, spicy. And a little
dark."
Greg's blushing now and Nick has to try hard not to laugh. "Thanks, G."
"Anytime. You gonna to need some help moving?"
"Nah. I got it under control."
"All right, then." He pushes himself up off the truck again, reaching for his
keys. "Good luck."
Nick watches him go, squinting in the sunlight that's bright again all of a
sudden, and Greg gets a few steps away before Nick grins and calls his name.
"Hey, G."
"Yeah?"
"You off Sunday? You can come by for coffee. I'll give you a call when I'm
done."
Greg grins and slides his sunglasses back on, but not before Nick sees his eyes
and he's pretty sure what he saw there wasn't due to the desert sun.