One Step at a Time

“Hey, what’s this?” Warrick said, catching sight of the picture of Jack in Greg’s locker he’d clearly ripped from a newspaper. Their lover was sitting in a chair, leaning against his cello, and looking at the camera with a friendly sort of half-smile. He was dressed casually in jeans and a tee-shirt, and someone had gone through and straightened his curls, which normally Warrick wouldn’t have appreciated, but there was something about his smile, the invitation in his eyes, that made his mouth water.

In short, Jack looked good enough to eat.

“It’s from that publicity shoot the symphony did,” Greg said, running his fingers over the picture. “You know, they gathered six of their best players (or best looking, if you ask me), took a couple photos, and then have been running the pictures in the paper ever since. They’re trying to get a younger crowd interested in buying tickets.”

“I admit, seeing this picture, I’d pay good money to sit right in front of him, which is exactly why I don’t like the idea of them pimping our man’s ass in order to fill seats. Who knows what sort of nuts this is going to draw in?”

“Why, Warrick, are you jealous?”

“Jealous of what?” Nick asked, walking into the locker room.

Greg saw the way Warrick stiffened and grabbed the picture from his locker, waving it at the Texan. “He’s jealous because my boyfriend’s better looking than he is.”

“Let me see that,” Nick said, grabbing the picture. “This your boyfriend? He’s right, ‘Rick. This guy is prettier than you.”

“Ha ha,” Warrick said, snatching the picture from Nick’s hands and giving it back to Greg. “I know what you’re trying to do, and it’s not going to work. You both are just going to have to get used to the idea that I’m better looking than either of you.”

Nick and Greg immediately grabbed the nearest thing they could get their hands on and began pelting Warrick with socks and towels as he dove out of the room.

“So you’re really dating that guy, G?” Nick said, opening up his locker.

“Yep. I’m one lucky man.”

“I thought you were asking about jazz. Decide to go classical instead?”

“Actually, Jack’s into both. It’s torture,” he said with a dramatic sigh, “but worth it.”

“Well, cool. So long as you’re happy,” Nick said, clapping him on the back.

“I am indeed. What about you? Still think Warrick’s acting weird?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said with a frown. “I mean, there are moments when it seems like everything’s back to normal, and then there are moments when goes all weird on me and I think he’d give anything to be in another state. It’s been better than it was, but it’s still not the way things used to be.”

“Want me to talk to him?”

Nick chuckled. “You? Nah, that’s all right. Maybe I just need to give him more time.”

“I’m sure that’s it,” Greg said, making a mental note to ask Warrick what was going on as soon as possible. It was one of the things he hated about their new relationship. He’d always considered Warrick to be an okay friend, but now that he’d gotten a chance to know him, he sincerely loved the man, but he couldn’t show it without revealing the truth. It was difficult sharing a life with him only to come to work and have to pretend they hardly knew each other. But, that was the way they had to do it, or risk. . . well, everything.

But he also hated seeing Nick all worked up like this, so job or no job, he had to say something. He knew how much each of them needed this friendship and if he could stop it from deteriorating, he was going to do it. He just didn’t know how.

Warrick, however, turned out to be no help. He completely did that oblivious guy thing which he was clearly faking but Greg hadn’t been with him long enough to figure a way around it.

“What’re you talking about?” he said when Greg confronted him on the drive home. “Nick and I are fine.”

“You’re making him miserable.”

“Nicky? Come on. He’s okay. If there was something wrong, he’d tell me.”

“Right,” Greg said with a roll of his eyes, “because you guys are so good at communicating. You always tell each other everything.”

“Yeah, we do.”

“So long as it’s not important.”

“Greg, just trust me, we’re cool.”

He sighed. “You just keep telling yourself. Maybe it’ll come true.”

“Look, if there is something wrong between Nicky and me, it’s between Nicky and me. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, placing a hand on Warrick’s leg. “Because it involves you. Nicky’s my friend, but you’re. . . well, you’re. . .”

Green eyes filled with amusement. “What am I, Greg?”

“You know what you are, and that makes you just as important as Nick.”

“Just as important?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah, I mean, Nick and I have been friends for years, and I don’t want him to get hurt, but I’m friends with you, though we’re clearly a lot more than just friends, and of course I’m going to want you to be happy so I can get laid, which means staying on your good side--”

“You keep going like this, and you’re not going to be on my good side much longer.”

Greg grinned. “Just try and pay attention to how you act around him.”

“Greg, I’m starting to think that we’re not using your imagination enough if you have to keep entertaining yourself like this. When we get home, I’m going to have a chat with Jack. Between the two of us, I think we’ll find a way to keep you entertained.”

“Nothing you and Jack do will be able to distract me for long.”

Warrick just smiled.

Greg began counting down the minutes until they could go home.