justtopostmyfic (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} justtopostmyfic) wrote,@ 2007-09-21 17:34:00 |
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A long overdue Nick/Warrick thanks-for-the-fics fic!
Grissom is complex, but Warrick is unreadable.
And Nick is just lovely *g*
Here's to the often-overlooked Warrick! It's because not many know how to delve beneath the cool-guy exterior and get into his psych! (God knows I tried to). And this is for the special breed of the writers who write Nick/Warrick! Hope you like!
Nick/Warrick, est relationship, post-GD, hurt/comfort
Warrick laid flat in his bed, arms wrapped securely around Nick, who was lying half on top of and half beside him. Warrick's right hand was massaging Nick's neck, while his left kept up the gentle stroking of Nick's back. They weren't engaging in anything pre or post-coital, hell, they were both fully clothed in jeans and shirts. Nick's body resting against his own felt lean and well-scuplted. More importantly, the swelling from the ant bite welts were going down. As Warrick soaked up the warmth emanating from the man in his arms, he tried not to think of the "what if's" but instead let deep contentment rush over him as he savoured this quiet moment with Nick. They hadn't done something like this in a long time, hadn't just kicked backed and chilled, until Nick's abduction overturned their lives completely. Warrick tried not to think about how painfully funny this was either.
--
Nick nestled his head in Warrick's chest,eyes closed. Being enveloped in Warrick's embrace was the only place he felt safe now. He moaned with pleasure, not sexual but heartfelt, as Warrick's caresses relaxed him completely. If Warrick didn't have to go to work soon -he was back on graveyard and so was Nick himself when he returned to work, Nick was told- Nick wished they could fall asleep in that position. Then Nick made the grave mistake of opening his eyes to stare into the snug-fitting dark brown shirt Warrick was wearing, and his mind, very fresh and burdened with memories from his ordeal, went on a sudden, involuntary rollercoaster ride.
His face was to the soil, Nick thought frantically. He was lying on the ground right after he'd been jerked out of the box and he was inhaling soil particles. The broad expanse of Warrick's dark brown shirt became the soil on the nursery grounds to Nick and it was suffocating him. The smell of the dirt engulfed him and its clayey taste stubbornly lodged inself in the back of Nick's throat, making Nick sick to his stomach.
--
Warrick was barely aware that Nick stilled momentarily in his arms, then swallowed a few times convulsively. He heard the little cough-whimper from Nick, but before he could lift his head to check on Nick, Nick had bolted off the bed and into the bathroom.
--
Nick dropped to his knees before the toilet bowl and vomited violently, hacking and wheezing as he forced all the contents out of his stomach. Through blurred vision he saw his muddy brown stomach contents in the toilet bowl and thought, terrified: there's soil in my stomach. That fearful thought set Nick on another round of emesis, but this time it was mainly painful dry heaves that wracked his body with tremors.
--
Warrick was just... shocked. What... happened? What pickpocketed at their serenity -so stealthily that Warrick didn't even realise it- and anguished Nick so badly that it made him throw up? Warrick knew wasting time on his own confusion would not help him understand the situation, neither would it help Nick, so he hurried off to the bathroom to try and help Nick, and make figure out what wreaked this havoc.
Warrick's heart cracked just a little more when he saw his Nicky hunched over the toilet bowl, trembling and puking his guts out. He crouched beside Nick and rubbed his upper back comfortingly, at the same time taking in the ghostly white pallor and cold sweat. Warrick felt helpless because he knew words probably wouldn't have much effect, especially when he didn't have the slightest clue what brought this on, but he had to try anyway.
"It's going to be okay, Nicky." Warrick soothed, in a voice that dropped lower than normal. "It's going to be okay."
--
Nick was so immensely grateful for Warrick's presence. It always had the effect of calming him, just knowing that he was close to a strong, muscular man who was cared about him. Warrick's bass whisper settled his churning stomach so Nick was no longer heaving futilely. Warrick was a great source of aid, like he'd always been, but this time Nick didn't think he could face Warrick or be held by him-- at least not with that shirt on.
Nick pushed his back against the bathtub and buried his head into his crossed arms resting on his knees. Warrick was stunned and hurt that Nick was curling up in himself and closing him out.
"Nick?Nicky, what can I do?" Warrick pleaded desperately.
"Take...take your shirt off, R-rick." Nick stammered in a small voice that spoke volumes of his fear and humiliation.
Warrick bit back his immediate would-be response of "WHAT?!" to save Nick from further embarrassment and stepped out of the toilet to pull off his shirt and discarded on the floor out of Nick's sight. Normally, undressing for Nick would have been a turn on for them both, but right now sex was the last thing on his mind.
Warrick returned to the bathroom and sat down beside Nick slowly, so as not to startle the distressed man, both of them leaning against the bathtub. He gingerly reached his arm out for Nick's shoulder and whispered, "Nicky? I took my shirt off." Except this time there wasn't the usual sexual playfulness infused in that line.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Warrick asked quietly and gently. Nick reached out blindly for Warrick and his hand ran over Warrick's toned abdomen, feeling the naturalness of skin and making sure there was no nastiness of fabric. Nick hardly noticed the hard muscles he normally would have enjoyed. Nick also didn't raise his head from his knees, as though he was ashamed to meet Warrick's gaze.
"Rick? What happened... wasn't, wasn't your fault." Nick mumbled in a thickened Texan accent. "It wasn't your fault, okay?" Nick's voice was rising with anxiety and Warrick hurriedly reassured, "Wasn't my fault, okay, wasn't my fault." for Nick's benefit, more than for his own peace of mind.
That calmed Nick down and he took a shuddering, deep breath before continuing. "Your shirt reminded me of... soil." Nick's voice was barely audible when he got to the last word, and Warrick had to strain his ears to catch it. Soil. Struck with this enlightment, he understood how in would have made anyone who went through what Nick did -if there was anyone else who went through this same horrid trauma- sick to his stomach.
"Don't apologise, Rick." Nick rushed out, stopping dead the "sorry" that was forming in Warrick's throat. "Not your fault."
Instead Warrick said, "I can see the connection, Nick, and I don't think it's silly at all." That earned him a lifted head from Nick, as he slowly worked up the courage to face Warrick.
Nick stood up unsteadily and slowly swung one leg over Warrick's hip, so that he was straddling Warrick face-to-face. Then Nick pulled his arms around Warrick's waist and rested his head on Warrick's shoulder, looking peacefully down Warrick's back. His eyes beheld the natural glow of luscious dark chocolate skin, so completely different from artificial polyester. He could never confuse Warrick's skin with soil. Not ever.
Nick didn't really know what to say to Warrick. "Thank you"? "I love you"? Words like that just weren't cutting it, because Warrick's understanding went much deeper than any other relationship he'd ever been in. Instead Nick settled for wrapping his arms more tightly around Warrick, and felt Warrick hug him right back just as fiercely.
Warrick laid flat in his bed, arms wrapped securely around Nick, who was lying half on top of and half beside him. Warrick's right hand was massaging Nick's neck, while his left kept up the gentle stroking of Nick's back. They weren't engaging in anything pre or post-coital, hell, they were both fully clothed in jeans and shirts. Nick's body resting against his own felt lean and well-scuplted. More importantly, the swelling from the ant bite welts were going down. As Warrick soaked up the warmth emanating from the man in his arms, he tried not to think of the "what if's" but instead let deep contentment rush over him as he savoured this quiet moment with Nick. They hadn't done something like this in a long time, hadn't just kicked backed and chilled, until Nick's abduction overturned their lives completely. Warrick tried not to think about how painfully funny this was either.
--
Nick nestled his head in Warrick's chest,eyes closed. Being enveloped in Warrick's embrace was the only place he felt safe now. He moaned with pleasure, not sexual but heartfelt, as Warrick's caresses relaxed him completely. If Warrick didn't have to go to work soon -he was back on graveyard and so was Nick himself when he returned to work, Nick was told- Nick wished they could fall asleep in that position. Then Nick made the grave mistake of opening his eyes to stare into the snug-fitting dark brown shirt Warrick was wearing, and his mind, very fresh and burdened with memories from his ordeal, went on a sudden, involuntary rollercoaster ride.
His face was to the soil, Nick thought frantically. He was lying on the ground right after he'd been jerked out of the box and he was inhaling soil particles. The broad expanse of Warrick's dark brown shirt became the soil on the nursery grounds to Nick and it was suffocating him. The smell of the dirt engulfed him and its clayey taste stubbornly lodged inself in the back of Nick's throat, making Nick sick to his stomach.
--
Warrick was barely aware that Nick stilled momentarily in his arms, then swallowed a few times convulsively. He heard the little cough-whimper from Nick, but before he could lift his head to check on Nick, Nick had bolted off the bed and into the bathroom.
--
Nick dropped to his knees before the toilet bowl and vomited violently, hacking and wheezing as he forced all the contents out of his stomach. Through blurred vision he saw his muddy brown stomach contents in the toilet bowl and thought, terrified: there's soil in my stomach. That fearful thought set Nick on another round of emesis, but this time it was mainly painful dry heaves that wracked his body with tremors.
--
Warrick was just... shocked. What... happened? What pickpocketed at their serenity -so stealthily that Warrick didn't even realise it- and anguished Nick so badly that it made him throw up? Warrick knew wasting time on his own confusion would not help him understand the situation, neither would it help Nick, so he hurried off to the bathroom to try and help Nick, and make figure out what wreaked this havoc.
Warrick's heart cracked just a little more when he saw his Nicky hunched over the toilet bowl, trembling and puking his guts out. He crouched beside Nick and rubbed his upper back comfortingly, at the same time taking in the ghostly white pallor and cold sweat. Warrick felt helpless because he knew words probably wouldn't have much effect, especially when he didn't have the slightest clue what brought this on, but he had to try anyway.
"It's going to be okay, Nicky." Warrick soothed, in a voice that dropped lower than normal. "It's going to be okay."
--
Nick was so immensely grateful for Warrick's presence. It always had the effect of calming him, just knowing that he was close to a strong, muscular man who was cared about him. Warrick's bass whisper settled his churning stomach so Nick was no longer heaving futilely. Warrick was a great source of aid, like he'd always been, but this time Nick didn't think he could face Warrick or be held by him-- at least not with that shirt on.
Nick pushed his back against the bathtub and buried his head into his crossed arms resting on his knees. Warrick was stunned and hurt that Nick was curling up in himself and closing him out.
"Nick?Nicky, what can I do?" Warrick pleaded desperately.
"Take...take your shirt off, R-rick." Nick stammered in a small voice that spoke volumes of his fear and humiliation.
Warrick bit back his immediate would-be response of "WHAT?!" to save Nick from further embarrassment and stepped out of the toilet to pull off his shirt and discarded on the floor out of Nick's sight. Normally, undressing for Nick would have been a turn on for them both, but right now sex was the last thing on his mind.
Warrick returned to the bathroom and sat down beside Nick slowly, so as not to startle the distressed man, both of them leaning against the bathtub. He gingerly reached his arm out for Nick's shoulder and whispered, "Nicky? I took my shirt off." Except this time there wasn't the usual sexual playfulness infused in that line.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Warrick asked quietly and gently. Nick reached out blindly for Warrick and his hand ran over Warrick's toned abdomen, feeling the naturalness of skin and making sure there was no nastiness of fabric. Nick hardly noticed the hard muscles he normally would have enjoyed. Nick also didn't raise his head from his knees, as though he was ashamed to meet Warrick's gaze.
"Rick? What happened... wasn't, wasn't your fault." Nick mumbled in a thickened Texan accent. "It wasn't your fault, okay?" Nick's voice was rising with anxiety and Warrick hurriedly reassured, "Wasn't my fault, okay, wasn't my fault." for Nick's benefit, more than for his own peace of mind.
That calmed Nick down and he took a shuddering, deep breath before continuing. "Your shirt reminded me of... soil." Nick's voice was barely audible when he got to the last word, and Warrick had to strain his ears to catch it. Soil. Struck with this enlightment, he understood how in would have made anyone who went through what Nick did -if there was anyone else who went through this same horrid trauma- sick to his stomach.
"Don't apologise, Rick." Nick rushed out, stopping dead the "sorry" that was forming in Warrick's throat. "Not your fault."
Instead Warrick said, "I can see the connection, Nick, and I don't think it's silly at all." That earned him a lifted head from Nick, as he slowly worked up the courage to face Warrick.
Nick stood up unsteadily and slowly swung one leg over Warrick's hip, so that he was straddling Warrick face-to-face. Then Nick pulled his arms around Warrick's waist and rested his head on Warrick's shoulder, looking peacefully down Warrick's back. His eyes beheld the natural glow of luscious dark chocolate skin, so completely different from artificial polyester. He could never confuse Warrick's skin with soil. Not ever.
Nick didn't really know what to say to Warrick. "Thank you"? "I love you"? Words like that just weren't cutting it, because Warrick's understanding went much deeper than any other relationship he'd ever been in. Instead Nick settled for wrapping his arms more tightly around Warrick, and felt Warrick hug him right back just as fiercely.
