A Shift in Perspective

Title: A Shift in Perspective

Author: AnitaB

Author’s Notes:  Well, when you watch CSI: Vegas… Nick and Warrick seem so much closer than just friends and coworkers.  Nick’s new case will shed a new light on everything… for the both of them.  I own nothing and nothing I do own would be worth getting in the lawsuit.  Nick/Warrick romantic smut ahead. I am the queen.

A Shift in Perspective

By AnitaB

Chapter one: A rough night at the club

 

“Come on, man, please!”  It wasn’t everyday that Warrick Brown got begged for anything by Nick Stokes.  Let alone for something this weird. The stressed out look on his face and the way his hair stood on end from his fingers only made the sight oddly … well, oddly cute.  “I can’t go there by myself. And Grissom took Sara and Cath both for the 419 at the Monaco. You’ve just got paperwork, right?”  Nick sat forward on the locker room bench, leaning his elbows on his knees.  “I’ll help you with it for a month if you’ll come with me to the Tug N Pull.”

 

“I … I thought that’s what you said. DB at the Tug N Pull, that gay bar off the strip?”

 

Pale fingers again ran through dark hair.  And Warrick was weirdly happy that Nick had let it grow out a little.  But then everything right now was a little weird.  “No, Warrick, it’s not a gay bar.  I’m fine with those.  This is a gay *dance club.*  My first DB there I had more bruises than the Vic did by the time I got to the bar.  My next one, I got Sara to go with me.  It…” Nick leaned back, head braced against the locker behind him, neck stretched in a long line.  “It cut down on the… uh… offers some.  I can’t go there alone.  Please, Warrick.”

 

Warrick leaned back against a locker, arms crossed over his tank and unbuttoned dress shirt.  It was the end of a very long night.  A double shift.  And until Nick had given him the most pleading look he’d ever seen, all Warrick had been thinking about was his blankets, sheets and a pillow.  But Nick… well, he was Nick.  “Uh, yeah.  Let me change this shirt and we’ll go.”

 

“Thank you, man.  I owe you so big for this.”  Warrick blinked and found Nick giving him a quick, fierce hug before pulling back with a relieved smiled.  “I’ll go get the car.”

 

Then Warrick found himself blinking at the back of a pair of broad shoulders disappearing out the door.  Shaking his head, he opened his locker for a clean shirt.  He had a club to go to with a friend.

 

000

 

Nick sat behind the wheel of his Tahoe, fingers tapping on the dash.  Relief at Warrick’s company to the club only unwound about half of the tense nerves in his gut.  He hated the Tug N Pull.  Hated it when those men looked at him like he was the desert section of an all-you-can-eat buffet.  Hated the way they touched him, not knowing anything about him.

 

It was so … meaningless.

 

“Well, man. What’re we waitin’ for? Got a club to see about a dead man.”  Warrick slid into the passenger’s seat, clapping a warm hand on Nick’s shoulder.  A smile curved lips that were caught halfway through a yawn. “Let’s get going.”

 

Nothing at all like the touch of someone who knew you and cared about you.  A stranger’s touch was nothing like knowing the hands on your body also cared about more than your body.  And Warrick was always there for him.  Like tonight, giving up much needed sleep to help him out.  That was friendship.  That was Warrick in a nutshell.  Putting the car in gear, Nick turned to smile at Warrick … and nearly ran the car into the wall.  Instead of any number of shirts that he would wear on a regular basis, Warrick was sitting in the front of this car wearing a metallic silver button-down.  “What the …”

 

“Hey, my last spare shirt got bloodstained yesterday.  This is all I got to wear unless you wanna swing by my place for somethin’ else.”  Broad shoulders shrugged under shiny fabric as dark skin gleamed out of an open collar.  “Or I could go with the exposed wife-beater look, if that’s better.”  Now the collar was pulled aside to expose the narrow strap of a tank undershirt.

 

Grinning, Nick got the car back into the right gear and pulled out of the parking spot.  “Aborted date?”

 

“Yeah, last week at the end of shift.”  Warrick yawned and the stretch that went with it pulled his body into a strained arch against the seat belt.  “Cancelled when that shift turned into a double too.”

 

Nick said the first thing that came to mind, just a little shocked at the words on his lips.  “Poor girl, didn’t know what she missed, did she?”  Sort of frozen in his seat, he glanced across the front seat to see a please little smile on Warrick’s face as he looked out the passenger’s window.  Something in his gut unwound and Nick relaxed into the act of driving.

 

“Yeah, maybe I’ll give her another chance to find out.”

 

Somehow the note of eagerness in Warrick’s voice ratcheted a little tension back into Nick’s nerves.  “Lucky girl,”

 

000

 

Wow. No girl he’d gone out with had nearly ‘head-on’ed a wall at the sight of this shirt before.  Warrick smiled at the compliment Nick probably didn’t even realize he’d given, not getting the curve off his lips until the car pulled into the overflowing parking lot.  Not a cop car in sight.  But ever so many patrons.  Warrick watched tension climb vertebrae by vertebrae up Nick’s back.

 

The level of immediate stress this place caused in Nick made Warrick hate it on sight.  Anything that could hurt his... his friend... well, he just hated it.  And he’d do nearly anything to make it stop.  “Where’d Brass say the body was?”

 

Something in Nick’s back loosened, but only slightly. “Alley at the back.  Best access is through the kitchen.”

 

“So let’s go beard the lion in his den.”  That got him a smile and a turn of Nick’s head away from the neon lights.  Something in Warrick’s back unknotted when those eyes met his, but only slightly.  //Knew he’d like the bible reference.

 

“After you, Daniel.”

 

Grabbing his field kit, Warrick beat Nick to the door.  His whole purpose here was to protect Nick from… unwanted advances.  It was harder to protect him from behind.  Watching Nick’s fingers clench around the handle of his case made him glad to have the eye-catching shirt.  Anything to keep the unwelcome eyes and –heaven help them—hands off his Nick.  Taking a deep breath, Warrick threw a comforting smile over his shoulder and entered the club.

 

Heat slapped him in the face, blocking his throat and drawing sweat from his every pore.  “The drink profits must be through the roof.”

 

Nick moved oddly close to his back.  Only to be heard over the rhythmic pounding music, of course.  “A bottle of water is five bucks.”

 

Warrick found himself leaning back, but only slightly.  “Now that’s a crime.”

 

“But we’re here for a dead body, Warrick, so let’s head for the kitchen.  Away from the crowd.”  The tension in Nick’s voice drew Warrick’s attention to the way eyes all over this room were watching them.  Heat trailed up and down his body before the eyes causing it moved over his shoulder.

 

To Nick.  Even across the air between them, Warrick could feel muscles all over Nick’s back tense up.  “Yeah, man.  Let’s get this done.”

 

Glares seemed to keep most of the… interested parties at a distance.  And Warrick found himself doing a good portion of the glaring, trying to project possessiveness over Nick.  Trying to pretend he was only pretending.

 

The bubble held intact until Warrick leaned over the bar to flag down a waiter.  It was then that a hand moved into and out of the edge of his vision.  Toward Nick.

 

The gasp could be heard even over the music and Warrick blinked to find a man’s wrist in his hand, mere inches from Nick’s shoulder. 

 

“Relax, man, your… friend here just looked a little cold.  I thought some dancing might warm him up.”

 

It wasn’t the body connected to the hand that reached for Nick that was talking.  It was his… friend who was staring at them with a mixture of fear and eagerness.  Looking at Nick like he was the special on the menu.

 

Stepping backward, closer to and half in front of Nick, Warrick grinned.  His free hand shifted the loose edge of his shirt enough to flash his badge and the edge of his gun and holster.  “My… friend has all the heat he needs, right here. Back off and go find another friend.”  Fighting to open his grip, Warrick stepped further between Nick and his pursuers.

 

Nick, for his part, moved closer, angling himself behind Warrick’s back. Close enough to almost touch.

 

“Seems insecure, even with those gorgeous eyes.”  The brave, or foolish, one smiled as he trailed a fingertip along the back of Warrick’s hand.  “Think he’ll have more fun with us and you’ll lose him?”

 

“No, I don’t think so.”  Warrick’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head at the action that came with Nick’s words.  A chest pressed against his back and an arm crossed his shoulders to rest against the base of his throat.  It was almost a hug.  “Would you get bored with this around?”  Warrick’s brain soft of misfired as that hand stroked down his arm to loosely clasp his wrist.  “Excuse us, gentlemen.”

 

Warrick just grinned as Nick led him off, watching the two men watch them leave.  He delighted an unhealthy amount in the disappointment on their faces, following Nick down the hall to the kitchen.  That hand stayed warm around Warrick’s wrist until after the kitchen door swung shut behind them.

 

Cold air hit the skin of his wrist and Warrick watched Nick lean against a wall, slumping slightly.  The playful smile was gone from his face and his head dipped.  “Nick?”  Warrick found his own hand on Nick’s shoulder, fingers spread to cover and sooth the tense muscles under his touch.  “You okay, man?”

 

Nick straightened and Warrick found himself the recipient of another of those half-hugs.  But this one lingered a bit, and his hands flattened against Nick’s back for an instant. “Sorry about all that, Warrick… but it, it worked when Sara did it.  And… I didn’t like the way he was touching you.”

 

Breath just stopped in his lungs as the words that slipped off Nick’s lips paraded behind Warrick’s eyes and ricocheted about his brain.  Part of his mind whispered that he had reacted for exactly the same reason when that man had reached for Nick.  “We guys gotta stick together.  So let’s go find our dead body.”

 

A relieved smile curved those lips and Warrick felt himself smile back.  Nick had that effect on him. 

 

000 

Title: A Shift in Perspective

Author: AnitaB

Chapter Two: Oh yeah, the victim…

 

He hated this place, hated it with every cell in his body.  Nick couldn’t breathe in here, couldn’t make his muscles relax at all from the tension riding him.  Couldn’t –

 

“Nick?”  A warm hand touched his shoulder in the same moment as the soft question. //Warrick.  “You okay, man?”  Somehow the warmth of that hand and that voice cooled the burning feeling in his lungs.  He could breathe, could make the muscles in his back straighten.  Nick could find himself hugging Warrick, feeling those oddly comforting hands press flat against his back.  “Sorry about all that, Warrick… but it worked when Sara did it.  And… I didn’t like the way he was touching you.” 

 

The body half in his arms suddenly stilled and Nick actually heard his own words hover in the air between them.  And then Warrick did just what he always did: be there for him.  Turning the half-hug into a normal pat, Warrick met his eyes hesitantly.  “We guys gotta stick together.  So let’s go find our dead body.”

 

Nick found himself smiling at Warrick.  And he found Warrick smiling back at him.  Warrick could make him smile… here, in this place.  It was amazing.  “Yeah, we’ve got a scene to process around here somewhere.”

 

“Yeah, we can’t leave Brass alone with all that evidence.”  Another smile crossed Warrick’s lips and Nick found himself following that smile down the hall to the kitchen and the door to the alley.

 

“What took you guys so long? Stop for a dance?”  Brass straightened up from his post leaning against the alley wall.  “The body’s getting cold.”

 

“More like getting stopped, but we made it out okay.”  Warrick’s hand again found its way to Nick’s shoulder in a touch that was fast becoming… complete natural.

 

“Your virtue or your life as usual, huh, Nicky?”  Brass cocked his head at the sheet-covered lump inside the crime scene tape.  “Seems a lot of guys get asked that question here.”  Moving to crouch near the body, he pulled back the sheet.  “Seems they don’t always take no for an answer.”

 

Nick watched that silver shirt move around broad shoulders as its wearer bent over the body.  “David ok us to move him?”

 

“All yours, man.  I even sent little David running home.”  Brass gave one of his patented looks.  “Seemed a little nervous around the clientele.”

 

A laugh shook its way up Warrick’s back as he twisted to look at Brass and the smile on his lips matched the low rumbling sound in his voice like he wasn’t a handful of change into his third shift.  “Yeah, seems to happen a lot around here… eager clientele.”

 

//That’s my Warrick.  “Here, let me help.”  Nick found himself crouching on the other side of the Vic wearing his familiar gloves.  “COD?”

 

Dragging his eyes off that smile, he helped Warrick roll the dead man’s shoulders enough to reach his throat.  “Ligature strangulation, David thinks.”

 

And the object twisted and knotted around his neck agreed:  a bar towel. “Hey, Brass, we got an ID on him yet?”  Something was occurring to Nick and it wasn’t doing anything to lessen his hatred of the Tug N Pull.

 

“Yeah, Boss IDed him, Mickey Andrews.  Bartender and waiter inside.”  Brass tucked the notebook back into the pocket of his coat.  “Been on the job less than a month.”

 

“Tough gig,” Unwinding the knotted cotton, Warrick smiled at him across the body and placed it in the envelope in Nick’s hands.  That smile made the muscles in Nick’s arms stop trembling.  “They oughta get a union.”

 

Sealing the envelope, Nick reached for swabs and bindles.  He leaned further over the body to dab at a stain on the Vic’s neck.  Right near the grip point of the towel.  “A week ago he mighta been its rep.” Focused on the trails of drops, Nick leaned further to follow it over poor Mickey’s jaw.  When the world shifted, tilting sharply until a hand spread wide against his heart kept Nick’s face mere inches from a puddle of evidence.

 

“Hey, Nicky.  Let’s not face plant in our union martyr’s crime scene.”  Strong hands helped him catch his balance, swab still clutched in shaking fingers.  “I’m the one missing sleep here.  You don’t get to nap yet.”

 

He loved the way Warrick smiled at him. How this man always was there for him.  “Thanks, man. Coffee later, my treat.”

 

000

 

Microscopes were murder.  Or at least that’s what his lower back would testify.  Straightening up, Warrick rubbed his spine.  The gel Nick found on the DB’s jaw wasn’t making more sense just because he kept staring at it.  What was motor oil doing on the neck of a dead bartender behind a gay dance club?  There wasn’t even vehicle access to the alley.

 

What could be another source of oil?  Leaning back down to the scope, he stared at the sample one more time.  Something was off about the consistency of it…

 

“Ready for a break, Warrick?” The scent of coffee, good coffee at that, led Nick into the room.  And nerves all over Warrick’s body responded.  “I got two coffees with the works, just the way you like it and …” Nick waited, smiling and holding a deli bag until Warrick turned.  That smile was like a dollar fifty worth of magic fingers to the sore muscles of his back.  Warmth unknotted the tension and soothed.  //Weird… really weird.

 

“And?”

 

Nick’s smile widened as he crossed the room and handed Warrick the cups.  Such a little boy lived in that smile.  It was impossible not to smile back.  And that was Nick Stokes in a nutshell, charm and good-will in the flesh.  “And those éclairs you’re always raving about.”

 

From Michael’s Bakery… which was a little supply store for restaurants and didn’t serve coffee.  //Two stops…  “Thanks, man, this is exactly what I needed.”  Grabbing a cup, Warrick hid a moment of confusion in a breath of steam and a careful first sip.  He couldn’t honestly tell if he’d meant the coffee and éclairs, or Nick’s smile.

 

But the food was safer.  Even if that meant watching the look on Nick’s face as he licked chocolate icing off his fingers.  “Man, were you right. These things are so good.”

 

“Just wait ‘til you try their cream puffs.  First thing, right off shift… little bites of heaven.”  Taking a bite of his own éclair, Warrick dragged his eyes away, across the scope.  //Ah, yes, the case.  “Speaking of shift, your union martyr got up close and personal with hands that knew an engine well.”  A pause gave him time to lick some chocolate icing off his own fingers.  “That gel you nearly took a dive for is motor oil.”

 

“Motor oil? That alley didn’t have access to roads or parking lots.” Nick set down his coffee and leaned over the microscope.  “The fence and the dumpster block it off completely except for that back kitchen door.”

 

Warrick found his eyes lingering on the rumpled lines of Nick’s shirt against his back.  He hadn’t slept in too long too.  Ruffled hair, sleeves rolled up to expose lean forearms.  Then Nick straightened up, leading Warrick’s eyes to the bare throat behind an open collar.  “Well, right now it’s evidence without context.”

 

Nick grinned, remarkable widely considering the small amount of sleep he’d gotten in the last two days. “So we’re looking for an engine context.”

 

Nick and his love of cars.  Warrick found himself smiling, granted through a yawn.  “Doubt it goes that fast, man.  The oil’s not looking like too high a quality.”

 

Another smile.  “Old or just cheap. ‘Cause you’d be amazed how much get up and go you can get out of a classic.”

 

//Like you’ve ever dated anyone older than you…let alone a classic.  Shaking his head, Warrick tried not to remember Nick’s collection of damsels in distress.  The young and helpless could find the helpful country boy blindfolded in Vegas crowds.  And they did, appearing out of the woodwork to drag Nick into danger and trouble.

 

And away from Warrick.  For awhile, anyways.  Then the girls disappeared and left Nick a little less white knight.  A little less Nick being himself.  And it drove Warrick fucking psycho to watch his friend pick up the pieces.  To watch that smile slowly work back up to full strength again.

 

“Motor head,” Warrick tried to shake himself back into the present, to see that full power smile.

 

“Not just motors, Warrick.”

 

“Yeah, yeah.  Motors, parasailing, Vegas surfing.  Anything and everything for a thrill.”  Hiding a sharp sound in the rim of his coffee cup, Warrick pretended it was a laugh.

 

As tired as he was, Nick probably wouldn’t notice.

 

000 

Title: A Shift in Perspective

Author: AnitaB

Chapter Three:  Evidence without Context

 

They had to go back.

 

To that place.  Nick thunked his head against the light table… gently.  It was glass after all.  And getting blood on the photos spread out over the table would not help matters at all. 

 

No damn context anywhere to be found.  That was back at the Tug N Pull.  Near all those watching eyes and reaching hands…  //Damn, damn, damn. 

 

“Whatever it is, a concussion ain’t gonna help.”  The voice came along with warm hands on his shoulders, strong fingers rubbing tense muscles.  “So why the head banging?”

 

Forcing himself upright, Nick leaned back into the simply delightful touch of those hands.  “We have to go back.  Something’s missing.  Something big and it’s not here in the evidence we collected.”  Arms folded across the back of his chair, making a perfect head rest for Nick to lean back and look up at Warrick with a ‘pity me’ face.  “Come with me back to the club, please, Warrick.”

 

That handsome face softened and smiled in the instant before lean fingers brushed hair off his forehead.  “Evidence without context, huh, Nicky?”

 

Warmth flooded him, making his eyes drift closed as he relaxed into the caring touch.  “Yes, Damnit.  And I owe it to Mikey to figure it out.”

 

Eyes shut, Nick only felt a chin rest against the top of his head. Could only hear the low rumble of Warrick response.  “You mean we owe it to Mikey Andrews, union martyr.”

 

Nick’s throat closed up and he had no idea what would be written on his face if he opened his eyes.  So he didn’t, merely swallowed and reached up a hand.  “Thank you, Warrick, so much.”

 

Fingers wrapped around his, squeezing just a little.  “No reason to thank me, Nick.  It’s what friends are for.”  Warrick’s other hand ruffled his hair before he sat down in the next chair, hand still on his shoulder.  “When do you want to go?”

 

Nick couldn’t help a small half-laugh.  “Want? No.”  He looked at Warrick with a shrug.  “Not wanting to go, but give me half an hour to wrap this up?”

 

“You got it, man.  I’ll be back and it’s my turn on the coffee.”  Warrick patted his shoulder and head out of the room. Only to turn at the doorway.  “And no more head banging, understand? Don’t want you passing out from a concussion ‘round all those guys.”

 

Nick could’ve kissed him for the smile on Warrick’s face and the warmth and caring in his voice.  His throat felt tight as he joked an answer.  “Right, no concussion.”

 

Those eyes disappeared around the corner and Nick forced his eyes back to the various photos on the layout table.  Time to document evidence.  Somewhere in these pictures, Mikey wanted to show Nick what to look for at the club.  Somewhere was the lead, the clue they needed.

 

Nearly thirty minutes of tiny details and careful notations later, Nick tried to stretch a painful kink out of his lower back.  Doc Robbins might not love this table so much if he spent Nick’s hours bent over it.  Right now, he could really go for a …

 

“Coffee,” Warrick’s voice turned the corner mere feet in front of the man himself.  And there was indeed a gorgeous coffee to go cup in each hand.

 

A simply beautiful sight.  “Warrick, buddy, you are a god-send.” Nick turned further to reach for a cup.  “Thanks, man.”  He took a sip as Warrick sat down next to him.

 

“No more concussions, I see.”  Warrick smiled, brushing hair off Nick’s forehead as if checking for bruises.  Warm fingertips trailed across his brow before patting his shoulders and wrapping around their own cup.  “So are you ready, man? If I remember, we’ve got a date with a club on the strip.”

 

No, he wasn’t ready.  Nick wasn’t ever going to be ready for those eyes assaulting him.  Those thoughtless hands grabbing or reaching.  //Breathe, man, in and out.  Warrick was going to be there, a living, breathing, caring human shield.  “Yeah, I think I am.”  Nick took a long, comforting drink of some amazing coffee. Warrick was here.  Maybe, just maybe this would work out alright.  “So we’d better get going.  Gentlemen don’t show up late.” 

 

Warrick smiled, patted his shoulder and stood.  “After you,”

 

A deep breath, a slight lean into the palm of that hand, and Nick dragged himself to his feet.  “Right behind you.”

 

000

 

His fingers were twitching and he couldn’t blame it on the third or even fourth cup of coffee he’d had today.  It was because of Nick.  All his fault.

 

//No, it’s not Nick’s fault.  Warrick struggled to sort it out in his head.  It was because of that tension slowly filling Nick’s back and shoulders.  It was the Tug N Pull’s fault.  Warrick wanted to hit someone or hug Nick.

 

And he really couldn’t do either one right now.  “So, Nicky boy, what are we looking for?”

 

Eyes still on the road.  //That’s my boy.  Nick answered.  “A location, I think.  Our union rep or his killer came into contact with some low-grade used motor oil before he was strangled out back.”  Broad shoulders shrugged.  “I can’t figure out where it came from.”

 

“No idea if it came from the killer or the crime scene.  Grissom’s trinity of murder.”   //Like we want to see more of this place.  Warrick tried not to glare at the building as Nick parked the car.  He was seriously starting to hate this place too.  “Let’s find this oil and go home.”

 

Nick smiled and something in Warrick’s gut unwound.  “That’s the plan.  Let’s go.”

 

“Yeah,” Steeling his spine, Warrick returned the smile and led the way inside. 

 

It was like Nick was covered in chocolate in front of a crowd of women. He just had something about him that made him the instant center of attention.

 

And it drove Warrick mad.  The first man to even try to lay a hand on his Nicky might just lose a finger.  Or more.  “And just how many back rooms does this club have?”

 

A soft sigh on the other side of the car answered the question before Nick found the right words.  “Too many.”

 

“Of course,” But then, at this place, one room was too many.  “Let’s get it done.”  The sooner Warrick got Nick away from here, the sooner he wouldn’t have to watch the tension knotting up his back.

 

Warrick dragged his eyes to the club’s door.  Time to go.  Nerves tightened all over his own back on the walk to that door.  The same choking heat slapped him in the face at the same time as all those eyes trailed up and down both their bodies. //Welcome to the Tug N Pull, my ass.

 

“Let’s go,” Nick leaned in close and whispered the two words in his ear.  Warrick didn’t fool himself into thinking he meant now and the front door.

 

“Lead the way, Boy scout.” Better to keep his eyes on the crowd.  And on Nick. 

 

Eyes followed them like the laser site of a dozen guns making the back of his neck itch.  The first hall seemed to last forever as Nick pointedly ignored the looks and whistles.  Until the first touch.

 

Two men were leaning near a door, kissing and talking when the blonde one turned to Nick.  Every single muscle in Nick’s body tightened as that hand rubbed from shoulder to wrist and tried to pull him closer.  “So young and fresh, care to try something new?”

 

Warrick couldn’t have said exactly what the chain of thought was, but in a flash he knew exactly what to do. Claim his Nick.  He stepped close, very close, and slid his arms around tense muscles.  Brushing that hand away, Warrick guided Nick tight against his chest and away from the couple.  “Anything new he needs, I’ll be the one to give him.”

 

Nick stiffened an instant before he relaxed into his arms, hands rubbing along Warrick’s wrists to cuddle closer with a soft smile.  “I’m all set.  Everything I need’s right here.”

 

The blonde gave them both a last considering look. “Shame,” And then he pressed his friend to the wall and planted a kiss on more than willing lips.

 

“Come on, Nick.”  Grabbing his hand, Warrick fought to plan without really thinking.  If he thought about it, he’d run screaming.  “I have a plan.”  Passing right by the door, Warrick led the way to the men’s room and locked the dead bolt behind them.

 

“Warrick,” Nick’s voice shook a little, his hand tightening its grip.

 

“They’re never gonna leave you alone ‘til you look taken.  So we gotta make this look good.”

 

Warrick watched his eyes widen as he pinned Nick back against the wall.  “What are you doing?”

 

He looked down, watching his own hands work open the buttons on Nick’s over shirt. “Watching your back.”  Shirt open, Warrick met confused eyes.  “Trust me, Nick.”

 

“Yeah, okay.”  Hands that were still trembling rested on his shoulders as the body they were attached to relaxed between his body and the bathroom wall.  “I trust you.”  Those ribs heaved under Warrick’s hands as he untucked and wrinkled Nick’s clothes.

 

“Good, lick your lips.”  //Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think,  Warrick tipped Nick’s head to the side, leaned in  very, very close and planted his open mouth against a racing pulse.  Smooth, warm skin shifted under his tongue as he tightened his grip on Nick’s shoulders and sucked on the arched line of that throat.

 

Nick’s hands moved from their grip on his shoulders, down his chest to tug his shirt loose from his waistband and start on the buttons.  Muscles all over Warrick’s body reacted by pressing closer…

 

“It won’t sell if you don’t look taken too.”  Those fingers.  //Damn you, don’t think.  Those fingers rubbed slowly up his ribs to drag dull nails along his neck, raising light welts on his skin.  Nick had absolutely no reason to be so damn good at this.  Arms tightened around his back and Warrick found himself held against a racing heart as Nick turned his head.  “Trust me, Warrick.”

 

It was purely accidental… and really lucky… that Warrick had both hands fisted in Nick’s shirt.  ‘Cause his knees couldn’t work in the face of Nick’s mouth at his pulse, teeth working gently against his skin.  //Oh, Damnit all to hell… Nicky.

 

000

Title: A Shift in Perspective

Author: AnitaB

Chapter Four: What the hell?!?>

 

Smooth, hot, and just a little salty against his tongue.  Nick braced his arms around Warrick’s shoulders for leverage.  With the dark, rich tone of his skin, the hickey needed to be a doozy. Those hands clutched at his shirt as Warrick leaned in closer.  The pulse under his lips raced in time with the blood rushing in his ears.  Nick closed his eyes and tried really hard not to think while he worked that delicious patch of skin with lips, tongue, and teeth.  //What the hell, Warrick?

 

This was … weird.  Never in a million years would he bet that he’d be in the bathroom of a gay dance club giving Warrick Brown a hickey.

 

… And enjoying it so much. Nick found his hands feeling and liking the hard lines of a muscular back.  Warrick’s knees wobbled and he leaned harder into the welcoming arms.  //That’s it, my Warrick, trust me.  Holding this man even closer, Nick sucked harder and sank his teeth into that rich, dark skin.  The arched line of Warrick’s throat vibrated under his tongue.

 

“Oh, Nicky…” Strong fingers rubbed over the back of his neck under the collar, arms pulling him closer along hard muscles.  “I…

 

//Shit, shit, shit, shit.  Nick suddenly pushed at Warrick’s chest, scared half to death by whatever words might be coming off Warrick’s lips and of his own chaotic and crazy responses today.  “I think we’re ready to go.  We look taken enough.”  Nick’s brain was racing even as he helplessly moved closer.  “Let’s go.”

 

Warrick looked as dazed and confused as Nick felt.  He looked warm and rumpled and … impossibly taken.  Those shocking blue eyes seemed to burn as they trailed over Nick’s lips, neck, and open collar.  Broad shoulders rolled, leading Nick’s eyes to the hickey and nail marks on that smooth neck. 

 

The way it had felt to put those marks there… “Yeah, Nick, I think we look taken.  Let’s go.”  A dark hand crossed the air between them and opened.

 

Very carefully not thinking, Nick took that hand and wound their fingers together.  “Okay, Warrick, let’s go find the oil.”

 

“After you,”

 

The deadbolt felt somehow stiff like it wanted to protect them from the club too.  If they could just find the damn missing oil, they could get the hell out of here and try not to think about any of this.

 

And drink… a lot.

 

The plan seemed to be working.  Through three back rooms all they got was interested looks.  No touches and no comments.

 

And no oil.

 

A dark hand slid across his shoulders to put lips near his ear.  The shiver down his back was just the air conditioning, really.  “No luck, Nick.  Where to now?”

 

He knew the answer, felt it down to the twisting marrow of his bones.  Nick leaned into the warm strength of that arm, just a little.  It was insane just how comforting that arm felt even as he could stop thinking about the taste of Warrick’s skin and the sound of his own name on those lips.  “The VIP room and its dance floor. We should look there.”

 

Warrick’s arm tightened, ribs moving heavily against his back.  “Follow me, Nicky.”  That body pressed closer against his for a breathless moment before Nick found himself led by a strong grip and broad shoulders back down the hall. 

 

“After you, Warrick.”  Holding tight to that hand, he trailed after his best friend toward a dance floor he both hated and looked forward to.  //I’m going crazy.

 

From outside the door to the VIP room, Nick could feel the heavy beat of the music in his bones.  He could see bodies pressing close, hands stroking and clinging to hard muscles, lips meeting and exploring.

 

And Warrick was leading him into that heated press of skin.  Warrick was going in there with him, would have to press close and hot with those strong arms and broad shoulders.  And part of Nick simply couldn’t wait even as the rest of him wanted to run away until his knees gave out.

 

And those blue eyes turned to him, a matching expression written on that gorgeous face.  “Dance with me, Nicky?”

 

//Oh, lord, yes.  He couldn’t find the breath or words to answer and only managed to nod and step closer.  //What the hell?

 

000

 

//I’m losing my fucking mind.  Warrick knew this was crazy.  But if Nick had stayed in his arms another minute longer to give him that hickey…

 

Warrick was sure he would have done something to get more of that feeling. To feel more of sweet, loyal Nick Stokes so close and so warm. And the look on Nick’s face had practically shouted that he knew it.

 

Warrick couldn’t stop thinking about the grip of Nick’s hand or the taste of his skin.  And now they needed to get out onto that dance floor… together.  He was about to get an excuse to put his arms around Nick Stokes.  It was hard to think about anything else.  And that was crazy.

 

“Dance with me, Nicky?”  Those rick brown eyes searched his face before their owner nodded and stepped closer //That’s my Nicky.  Come here.  Lean ribs heaved unevenly against his palms as Warrick pulled him closer and started to move.  Nick’s hands hovered in the air a moment before settling against strangely eager patches of skin on his chest and shoulder.

 

In his arms, Nick nervously licked his lips and sent Warrick’s mind spinning.  If it felt like this to hold him … what could it possibly feel like to kiss him, to taste more than just the salt of his skin.  To get lost in need and wet heat.  To feel his Nicky kiss him back.  To feel every inch of the strong, lean body in his arms tremble and cling.

 

“Warrick…”  He was going to do it, lean in those few inches and feel Nick’s lips with his own. And hope to hell he didn’t get pushed away. Or shot.  “Over there.”  Warrick watched those lips move, but his brain took a few extra seconds to actually process the words.  He forced his arms open and followed the angle of Nick’s eyes across the room.  A spotlight hit an antique motorcycle on a pedestal near the stage.

 

Well, there was the motor oil.  He knew it was the reason they’d come here and had to wade through this lower circle of hell.  But when Warrick looked at it, al he saw was his excuse to touch Nick Stokes disappearing.  “Lead on, Nick.”

 

Strong fingers laced through his before Warrick found himself following broad shoulders towards the bike.  Tightening his grip on that hand, he let his body do the planning.  Three steps from the bike, Warrick fished a clean hanky from his pocket.  One step away, he used their joined hands to spin Nick to face him.  Before the shock stiffened him up, Nick was pinned by full body contact against the pedestal.  Warrick put his lips at his ear.  “Put your arms around me, Nicky, and make it good.”

 

Hands dragged over his shoulders and into his hair as he licked a racing pulse.  Behind Nicky’s back, Warrick ran half the white cloth along the bike’s chain and dipped the other half in the oil drip under the engine block.  Nick’s chest heaved against his ribs as those gorgeous hands fisted in the back of his shirt.  So good, so strong… so breathless.  “…Got it, Warrick?”

 

//Yes,  “Almost,”  He pressed closer a moment, needing just a bit more of that body against his before he could move back.  Warrick brushed his lips along the line of that neck, breathed in his cologne, and made himself let go.  “Got it.  Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

 

“After you, man.”  Nick grabbed his hand and held it tight the whole way out to the car.

 

And he was holding on just as tight.  How the hell was he supposed to let go now?

 

Apparently, Nicky had some ideas on that topic.  Warrick found himself with an armful of a shaking CSI.  “Hey, Nicky.  It’s okay, man.”  Warrick pulled him closer, arms tightening around him.

 

“Thank you, Warrick.  It means so much that you’re here with me.”

 

//Oh, hell,  He closed his eyes against the feel of the twisting knives in his gut.  “I’m here, Nicky, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.  We’re getting the hell out of here and I’m driving.  Gimme the keys.”  Nick shifted in his arms and a keychain clattered into his hand.  “That’s good.  Let’s go.”

 

Warrick fought to obey traffic laws against his need to get Nick as far from the Tug N Pull as fast as he could.  The drive still felt colder the longer he wasn’t touching Nick.

 

The Las Vegas desert in the middle of the summer and Warrick was freezing.  But he knew how to get warm.  Warrick trailed Nick through the lab to the locker room.  This was a horrible idea, but stopping just wasn’t possible.

 

“Nick?” He watched those hands close his locker and moved closer.

 

“Yeah, Warrick.”

 

//Please, Nick,  He was in arm’s length of those broad shoulders and strong hands.  “We can pretend none of this happened tomorrow but there’s something I need to know.”

 

Nick ran his hand through his hair and turned to face him, rich brown eyes meeting his.  Just maybe Nick would still look at him like this tomorrow. “What is it, Warrick?”

 

//Breathe, just breathe and do it.  He stepped a little closer.  “I need to know how it feels.”

 

Nick looked puzzled, but not scared.  “How what feels?”

 

Just a little closer.  “This,” Sliding one hand to the back of his neck, Warrick pinned Nick to the lockers and pulled those lips to his own.  Nick went completely still, his lips parting on a shocked gasp.  And Warrick pressed his advantage, sliding his fingers along that jaw to angle those lips against his own.  Soft, smooth, warm.  Those open lips were simply too much to resist. Helplessly deepening the kiss, Warrick slid the tip of his tongue past those lips to explore the sweet warmth of that mouth.

 

Warrick felt his knees try to give out as Nicky started to kiss him back, strong hands clutching at his back.  //Yes, Nicky, yes.

 

Soft, sweet, and warm.  He was never going to get enough of kissing Nick Stokes, of feeling Nick kiss him.  //More,  Spreading his fingers wide against that chest, Warrick leaned in for just a few more seconds of heat, need and the urgent dance of tongues.  He felt his hands itching to trail down that chest and slide under that shirt. //Damnit, stop.  Warrick pulled his hands back first, fingers stroking the line of his jaw along the way.  Tongue next, but giving up the taste of him was harder.  Lips last, he pulled away, feeling the cold rush in over heated skin.  “Warrick?”

 

Warrick stepped back out of the reach of those hands.  “Sorry, Nicky, I… see you tomorrow.”

 

He couldn’t look back.  Whatever Warrick might see in Nick’s eyes would break him.

 

000 

Title: A Shift in Perspective

Author: AnitaB

Chapter Five: Hide and Seek

 

He couldn’t move.  If Nick shifted even one muscle, they’d all go from shaky to liquid and spill him to the locker room floor.  Nick could barely breathe despite that fact that his ribs were heaving and he couldn’t stop the rushing sound in his ears.  Nick felt cold head to toe.  And it wasn’t the ever-present air conditioning.

 

It was Warrick.

 

Nick was standing against his locker, shaking too hard to sit down because Warrick had kissed him.  And not a little kiss.  It was a KISS, with capital letters, bold font, tongue and body language.  Nick could still taste Warrick on his lips, feel the desperate strength of those hands pulling him close.  He could still feel Warrick trembling in his arms as the kiss deepened, got hotter, wetter, and needier.

 

He’d kissed Warrick back, clinging to those broad shoulders when his best friend started to pull back.

 

That’s what had every muscle in Nick’s body trembling like an oak leaf.  It wasn’t that Warrick had kissed him.  It was just how good, how right it had felt.  Nick Stokes had liked being kissed and held by Warrick Brown, a lot.  He wanted more… and that was confusing as all hell.

 

Weak knees held out long enough for Nick to sink to the bench and bury his head in his hands.

 

Why had Warrick run?  After pinning Nick to the lockers to kiss him eager and senseless, Warrick then apologized and ran for the hills.

 

“Like Hell, Warrick.  You can’t just kiss me and go hide.” Grabbing his wallet and keys out of his locker, Nick gathered his knees under him and headed for the parking lot.  Warrick wasn’t leaving him alone in this.

 

Whether he liked it or not…

 

He’d looked almost panicked on the way out, and over-wrought Warrick was usually gambling at the Monaco.  Black Jack was his drug of choice.

 

Nick made his way to the Monaco bar and waved Michelle over.  “Hey, Shelly, you seen Warrick today?”

 

“No, sweetie, he hasn’t been by in weeks.  How’s he doing?”

 

//Damn, Warrick, where the hell are you?”  Nick played with the edge of the bar rail, fingers tracing the details in the metal.  “Oh, he’s fine. Thanks, Shelly.”

 

He needed to find Warrick, now.  Nick made his way back to the car before he came up with a plan.  The cell phone in his hand almost dialed itself.  “Hey, Arch, I need a favor.”

 

“Sure, Nikko, what do you need?”

 

“I need a GPS trace on Warrick’s cell.”

 

Computer keys clacked on the other end of the line as Archie started the process.  “Sure thing.  Anything wrong, Nick?  Should we call in the cavalry?”

 

“No, no.  It’s nothing that scary.  Our case just got to him a little and I don’t know which bar he’s drinking at.”

 

“Oh, a partner mission.  Gimme a minute and I’ll get you the address.”

 

In the static, Nick found himself listening to the clacking and failing miserably at not thinking.  //A partner mission.  My partner kissed me.  Warrick kissed me and I liked it. And he ran.  Nick licked his lips, tasting his best friend there.  //Damnit, Warrick.  What the hell is happening to us?

 

“Got it.  Looks like Warrick is at the corner of Madison and Wilkes, heading west.  Seems mostly residential though.”

 

His ribs tightened and his heart rate changed.  Warrick was headed home, running for his apartment like nothing had happened.  //Like hell.  “Thanks, Arch, I know where he’s going.  See you later.”

 

“Great.  You guys take care of each other.”

 

“That’s the plan.”  Nick hung up and tapped the phone twice on the bar.  Warrick couldn’t keep running from this, from him.

 

Nick got all the way to Warrick’s front door still not knowing what the hell he was going to do when that door opened. And it was going to open.  His fist lifted a second time to knock loudly on the door, almost but not quite pounding.  “Open up, man, or I will use my key.”

 

“What,” The lock clicked before blue eyes glared at him through the slowly widening gap.  “Tomorrow wasn’t soon enough to hit me in the face?”

 

The face he should want to hit looked tight, pained, scared as the door slammed open.  Warrick was as afraid, nervous, confused, and needy as he felt.  Whatever words Nick might have gotten to his lips simply disappeared before the swirling emotions in those blue eyes.  All but one word… “Warrick,” Nick watched half helplessly as his own arms wrapped around Warrick’s shoulders and dragged him close.  “Come here, I got ya.”

 

The body in his arms was stiff before slowly shaking and relaxing against his chest.  Strong hands caught in the back of Nick’s shirt as those arms tightened.  “Nicky,” The pain and need in that voice put a shiver down his back.  //Warrick, please.

 

He couldn’t stand that pain in that voice another second and a part of Nick Stokes knew exactly how to make this man feel better.  Get closer. Much closer.  “Warrick,” Nick found his fingers opening along a strong jaw, found his lips opening against his best friend’s gasp.

 

Nick slid his tongue past those gorgeous lips and suddenly Warrick was kissing him back.  Tongues danced, lips stroked and pressed, arms tightened and hands clutched.  This was what he’d wanted, needed.  This heat and touch, this strength and need, this taste and movement was exactly what he’d driven across town to get back.  Nick needed Warrick in his life, in his arms, on his lips.  Crazy as it was, he needed this feeling, needed more of his best friend, closer, hotter, and deeper.  //Warrick,

 

Strong fingers slid along his jaw as those delicious lips started to pull back.  //No, not yet.  Nick tried to close the distance until Warrick groaned low and ragged.  “Nicky, sweet Nicky.  Do you know what you’re doing?”

 

“No,” Nick could feel the heat in Warrick’s eyes on his face, in the strong grip of lean arms around him.  So good, so warm.  He slipped a hand up to cup that concerned face, his fingers stroking over those lips.  “But I do know how this feels.”  He watched Warrick’s eyes flutter, he felt a rough breath heave lean ribs. 

 

Those blue eyes opened and locked to his.  “How does it feel, Nicky?”  Warrick’s body leaned closer, his tongue licking his lips as his eyes flicked to Nick’s mouth.

 

He felt the heat of that look, everywhere, and he wanted more.  “It feels so warm, hot, Warrick.  It feels so good, so right.  It feels…”  Nick trailed a hand down to rest over Warrick’s heart. A heart that was pounding as hard as his own.  “Real,”

 

“Nick,” Strong arms dragged him closer in the instant before a mouth claimed his, drowning him in warm, wet, desperate need. //Yes, Warrick,

 

000

 

He couldn’t believe it.  Nick showed up at his door with heat and concern in those gorgeous brown eyes.  He hadn’t been angry at all. Instead Nick had held him, kissed him, told him it felt good, right.  That hand slid to his heart as those big, brown eyes burned into his with a wealth of heat.  “It feels… real.”

 

It was like Nick was trying to give him a heart attack. //God, Sweet Nicky.  “Nick,” Warrick dragged his best friend tight against his chest and dove into the delicious heat of Nick Stokes’ kiss.  It was good. It was right.  It wasn’t nearly enough.  He needed more, more of brave, sweet, loyal Nick.  Warrick needed more of his kiss, his touch, his heat, his skin.

 

Breaking the kiss he reached for the buttons of Nick’s shirt, some part of him waiting to be pushed away.  “Warrick,”

 

The pleading sound of his voice registered an instant before those hands stroked down his chest to reach his buttons.  Nick’s fingers were opening his shirt as he locked his eyes on Warrick’s lips. Nick, his Nicky was thinking about a kiss as they both fumbled open button by button.

 

Their over shirts hit his living room floor as Warrick shoved both hands under the t-shirt to the smooth heat of Nick’s skin with a groan.  The sound got even rougher as Nick slid his hands up bare arms to a strong jaw.  “Put your arms around me, Warrick, and make it good.”

 

Warrick found himself smiling against those sweet lips and dragging the fabric higher along a flat stomach.  “Lose the shirt first, Nick. I want to touch you.”

 

Nick pressed closer for a quick kiss, a soft slide of tongue.  Then those lips were out of reach as Warrick’s sweet southern boy peeled the cloth away from his chest.  Smooth, hot skin. Lean, hard muscles. //My sweet Nicky.  How in the hell had Warrick seen this man shirtless in the locker room countless times in the last few years and not thought about touching, kissing, or licking him.  “What about you, Warrick?  You gonna keep yours on?” Those strong hands slipped along his skin above his belt as that gorgeous chest shifted under his hands.  “I want to touch you too, Warrick. Let me…”

 

Warrick nodded, feeling nerves all over his body leap and tighten at the burning drag of Nicky’s hands up his chest.  “Nicky…” The second his shirt cleared his fingertips, Warrick pulled Nick tight against his chest and dove into a hot, wet kiss.  He groaned against the stroke of that tongue and explored a heaving ribcage with two eager hands.

 

Warrick loved the low, breathless sound on Nick’s lips as that body arched against his hips.  He was … hard.  Nick was long and firm behind well-worn denim, and pressing that erection hard against his own.  //More, Nicky, yes.

 

He watched that strong neck arch back and knew he caused it with the helpless press of his hips… along with that sound on those lips.  “Oh… Warrick… please.”   Warrick let his eyes follow the line of that throat to his mark.  He’d already tasted this man’s skin, his breath, his kiss.  But Warrick wanted more.  Leaning in, he licked his way down that smooth neck to heaving ribs.  He trailed his lips over a pounding heart to lick the stiffened crest.  “Warrick!”

 

Suddenly Warrick felt muscles all over Nick’s body tighten and jerk.  Then that body pinned his to a wall.  Strong hands cupped his face and angled his chin up.  “My turn,” Deep brown eyes locked to his in the instant before a kiss made watching anything impossible.  All Warrick could do was feel.  And what a feeling.  Nick’s mouth fed at his, deep, hot and desperate.  Those hands dragged heat down his chest to cover his heart.  He could feel the spread of each of Nick’s fingers hot and hard against his skin as that body leaned closer.  He could feel the press and rock of those lean hips against the front of his own.  So hard behind the denim.  Warrick’s fingers itched to explore down that hard stomach and lower.  But it was Nicky’s turn.  “Warrick,”

 

Those lips left his cold and trailed lower.  And it was Warrick’s turn to fight for air as Nick licked, kissed, and nibbled a path down an eager throat and a heaving chest.  That gorgeous mouth closed around a stiffened nipple before licking over a racing heart.  Another few seconds and Warrick was going to drag Nick to the floor and destroy those jeans to get to all of his skin.  “Nick, please,”

 

“Please what, Warrick?” Never, never had Warrick heard such satisfied pleasure and dark need in his voice.  //I did this to you, Sweet Nick.  I put that sound on your lips.  Then Nick raised his head and his eyes changed Warrick’s pulse rate.  //Oh, yes, my Nicky.  “What do you need, my man?”

 

Warrick couldn’t find the breath to answer and instead dragged Nick against his chest to dive into a hot, wet kiss. He wrapped both arms tight around broad shoulders.  Finally he dragged in enough air to speak.  “You, Nick.  I need you, naked in my bed.”

 

The hard body in his arms shivered and those gorgeous brown eyes closed. “Yes, I need that, too.”  Nick groaned into a short, hot kiss and pulled back.  “Come with me.  I have a plan.”

 

//Anywhere, my Nicky.

 

000

 

Title: A Shift in Perspective

Author: AnitaB

Chapter six: I have a Plan

 

Nick felt part of himself still carefully not thinking.  The rest of him eagerly detailed what was going to happen after he led Warrick to his own bed.  Blue eyes trailed over him as their owner sat on the edge of the mattress.  “Well, Nicky, what’s the plan?”

 

“Us, naked, in your bed.”  Nick sank to his knees at Warrick’s feet.  “Kissing, touching,” He watched his own fingers reach for Warrick’s belt. “Skin,”

 

“Whoa, boy.”  Beautiful hands caught his and pressed them flat to his stomach.  “You don’t have any other clothes here, and I’m going to shred those jeans if you’re still in them.”  Warrick’s fingers caught in his belt loops and dragged Nick high on his knees and close against that gorgeous chest.  “I need to touch you, Nicky.”

 

//Oh, Yes, Warrick. Lips met, pressed, stroked as nimble fingers unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped him.  Nick just barely had the time to get a grip on broad shoulders before those fingers slid past the fabric to encircle the hard, desperate length inside.  “Fuck, yes, my Warrick!”

 

Every single muscle in Nick’s body stuttered and seized.  His toes curled, his hands clenched, his back arched, and his lungs heaved.  Warrick’s hands felt… so… damn… perfect.  “That’s it, Nicky, feel that, don’t you?”  Warrick’s breath tickled his ear as Nick fought to breathe past the grip and stroke of those gorgeous fingers.  “’Cause I feel you, sweet Nicky.  I feel every hot, hard inch of you.  Every beautiful inch of you, right here.”  Warrick licked a line along an arching neck until he got to gasping lips.  “My sweet Nicky.”

 

Nick found his hands fisting in Warrick’s hair to drag that delicious, teasing mouth to his own.  Breathlessly, he dove into a desperate kiss, hips arching and thrusting helplessly into those hands.  Nick was going to shatter all over those fingers any second.  “Warrick, please… need, need to touch you, feel you. Now.”  He gave a low, harsh groan and pulled away from those hands.  “Get ‘em off, Warrick, or I’ll shred ‘em.”

 

Blue eyes closed for a second before strong fingers moved to Nick’s waistband.  “You first,” Together they shoved Nick’s jeans to his ankles where he kicked them away with his shoes.  Naked, he watched the look on Warrick’s face as those eyes trailed over him.  //Good sweet heaven, Warrick.

 

Nick stepped back, knowing from his face that his best friend was going to reach for him, wanted to touch him, badly.  And Warrick was still half-dressed.  “Strip, Warrick, or you can’t touch me.”  Those gorgeous lips groaned and those strong fingers move to his belt.  “Good boy,” Nick watched those gorgeous hands open and shove down his pants.  Hips arched as he kicked the fabric away.  Until Warrick sat naked on the edge of his bed, looking at him.

 

Nick’s eyes wandered and explored that long, lean body.  //Beautiful.  Sculpted muscles moved under smooth dark skin.  Nick’s fingers itched to touch, grip, stroke.  Warrick’s erection drew his eyes.  Long, standing straight and hard, it was covered in smooth, milk chocolate skin.  He was going to die if he didn’t get his hands and lips on that skin.  “I’m naked, Nicky, and you said I could touch you.  Come here.”

 

“My turn first,” Nick dodged those hands to kneel between those legs, his fingers sliding up lean thighs towards that gorgeous, hard length.  “I want this, Warrick, so much.”  Strong hands clenched in the sheets as Nick’s fingers finally closed around Warrick’s need.  Hard, smooth, hot, velvet skin over stiffened steel.  “Yes, Warrick.”

 

“Nicky,” Warrick’s back arched, his muscles tightened and shook under that soft, smooth skin.  Blue eyes closed, gorgeous lips opened on a low, desperate sound.  //Beautiful, Nick tightened his fingers in every slow, sweet stroke of his hands over that beautiful erection.  He leaned in to catch those lips with his own, adoring the taste of Warrick’s helpless groans.

 

Strong hands moved, clutched at Nick’s back and neck as those hips rocked and arched into his hands. “Oh, Nicky, sweet Nicky.”  Nick smiled against those lips, tightening his fingers around that gorgeous shaft just to hear more of that desperate groaning.

 

“That’s it, Warrick, say my name, feel me.” He kissed this man, driving his tongue past gasping lips to feel and taste him.  “I can feel you, I felt this…” He tightened his grip in a careful, twisting stroke to the sound of his gasp.  “When you kissed me in that locker room.  It felt so good, so real.  I felt you in every touch of your hands in that club, every word.  So warm, so caring, so mine.  I need you, Warrick.  All of you.”

 

“You got me, Nicky.  Right here, with you.”  He felt it, in his hands, in his chest. //Yes, my sweet Warrick.

 

000

 

His Nicky was killing him slowly.  He was drowning in the feel of those hands, the sound of that voice, the words and care of this man in his arms.  He couldn’t breathe against the twisting stroke of strong and gentle fingers.  Warrick fought his eyes open just in time to watch Nick’s face as he claimed him.  “So mine.  I need you, Warrick. All of you.”

 

Warrick caught that precious face in his hands, brought those lips to his own and locked those rich brown eyes with his gaze.  “You got me, Nicky. Right here, with you.”  //I love you, my sweet Nicky. I’m always here with you.

 

Under his eyes, in his hands, Warrick watched and felt his Nicky believe him, felt him melt closer with every inch of his body.  //Yes, that’s my Nicky.

 

There had never been a sweeter kiss than this one.  Nick Stokes was here, warm and sweet in his arms, kissing him back with heat and affection.  Stroking him with knowing hands and almost more so with caring words.

 

But Nicky was still too far away.  Pulling weakly back from those lips, Warrick caught Nick’s hands with his own, stopping the stroke of those fingers.  “Come here, Nicky.  I need all of you. Much closer.”

 

Those pretty lips smiled as Nick pulled his hands back and crawled into bed. //Gorgeous,  Warrick thought his heart was going to explode as the long, beautiful lines of this man’s body arched and stretched against his sheets.  He thought his brain was going to melt out his ears as those deep, brown eyes trailed over his skin and those hands reached for him.  But it was the words that made Warrick’s control shatter like so much glass hitting the sidewalk.  “Well, Warrick, aren’t you comin’?”

 

//Hell, yes! But you first.  Warrick pressed every inch of that gorgeous skin under his own.  His hands moved on their own to fist in Nick’s hair and angle those perfect lips against his own.  It was heaven, feeling Nick against him head to toe, tasting desperate need in the dance of their tongues.  But it wasn’t enough.  It wouldn’t ever be enough, not ‘til he’d touched and, yes, tasted every inch of his sweet, southern boy.  Not ‘til he’d watched those brown eyes and listened to that precious voice as need spilled over into ecstasy.

 

And Nick’s hands on his skin could only distract him.  “Nicky,” Weakly pulling back from those delicious lips, Warrick caught Nick’s hands low against his stomach.  “My turn, it’s my turn to touch you.”  Nick’s back arched and his hands tightened, straining to move lower.  “No, Nicky, I need this, need to touch you.”

 

Those brown eyes fell closed a second as their owner arched every inch of his body against Warrick’s in a long, smooth rub.  Those hands gripped the headboard before Nick got his eyes open and back to Warrick’s.  “Ok, man.  But just wait ‘til it’s my turn.”

 

//Good sweet hell.  He saw his future in the burning heat in those eyes.  Such self-control and need could only be rewarded.  Warrick groaned low and deep and gave his Nicky the kiss of a lifetime.  Hot, deep, tender, fierce, loving and desperate all at once.  Warrick kissed Nick with everything he had and got every gorgeous inch of Nick back in return. 

 

Now he had to take it all.  Warrick smiled down at his friend and lover, decided where to start.  Hands.  He trailed a line of kisses up and down that throat as his fingers explored the clenched fingers and strong wrists holding his man to his bed.  Warrick rubbed his palms up and down the tense muscles of those arms, leaning up to sink a gentle bite into each flexed bicep.

 

Every inch of Nick twitched and arched in time with the sound of his helpless cry.  “Warrick, please.”

 

//Soon, my Nicky, soon.  Warrick hid a smile against the soft skin of Nick’s shoulder before he dragged the stroking tip of his tongue over a heaving chest to circle around each stiffened crest.  Under his lips and hands, muscles clenched and arched.  Against his hips, the hard, hot length of Nick’s erection rubbed and pressed with every little shift of their bodies.  He’d felt that gorgeous length in his hands, but not for long enough.  And he hadn’t tasted it.  He wanted to.

 

“Hold still, Nicky.” Warrick watched pleasure on that precious face as his fingers slid along the rock hard muscles of Nick’s stomach to close around the even harder silk and steel of his erection.  And Nicky couldn’t hold still.  He groaned, arched, and gripped the headboard so hard it creaked.  “That’s it, Nicky, feel me holding you, loving you.”  Warrick dipped his head and stroked the tip of that shaft with an eager tongue.  Nick tasted hot, salty, good.  But he felt even better.  A helpless sound echoed in the room in the moment before those hands released the headboard and clutched at his shoulders.  Every inch of the body in his arms trembled and arched.  And he loved it.  Warrick smiled, slid the tip of Nick into his mouth, and worked his tongue against the sensitive line on the underside.

 

“Warrick, oh god, yes, Warrick.”  That voice was so gorgeous begging.  Those hands were so strong, so gentle as they moved to cup his face.  Fingers stroked through his hair and along his jaw.  “Yes, please, Warrick.”

 

Warrick groaned and took Nick deeper, loving the helpless little movements of those hips between his hands.  Nick was holding onto his self-control… but not for much longer.

 

000 

 

Title: A Shift in Perspective

Author: AnitaB

Chapter seven:  Out of control…

 

 

Warrick was killing him, but god it felt good.  Nick threw his head back and tried desperately to keep his hands on the headboard.  Even with his eyes closed, he could see those gorgeous blue eyes watching him as that mouth… dear lord, that mouth… lowered to lick the aching head of his erection.  //Oh, fuck it, Warrick!

 

Nick helplessly clenched his hands against the hard muscles of Warrick’s shoulders, every inch of his body arching closer to those soft lips and agile tongue.  //Please, yes, please. 

 

Had he been able to think at all, Nick might have wondered what that little smile meant.  But Warrick made any thought impossible with the wet heat of his mouth and the stroke of his tongue.

 

And then that mouth pulled him deeper and tighter and bypassed Nick’s control of his own mouth.  He was babbling, begging and he knew it, hands helplessly stroking that handsome face.

 

It was like Warrick wanted him out of control.  Nick reached out and caught one of Warrick’s hands.  Fingers tightened as his hips arched helplessly into the heavenly feel of this man’s mouth.  Those fingers tightened around his as Warrick plunged hotter and deeper.  And then he started humming.  //Oh, hell, yes, Warrick.  Nick helplessly arched his hips into the gorgeous wet heat of that mouth.  He felt the groan in Warrick’s throat before those gorgeous lips moved to hold every last inch of his length deeper.  “Fuck, yes, Sweet Warrick!”

 

The last line of his control shattered and Nick spilled over between those lips.  He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. All he could do was drown in every little bit of this amazing feeling and this man in his arms.

 

Warrick had done this to him, had given him this rush of pleasure and he was still hard against Nick’s skin.

 

“Warrick,” Pulling on their joined hands, Nick led his best friend close against his chest.  “Come here, my Warrick, it’s my turn to make you feel good.”  He watched those gorgeous blue eyes fall closed as he cupped his hands around this face.  Nick groaned at the light taste of himself on that tongue.  And it wasn’t enough.

 

“Nicky,” Warrick’s hands clenched against Nick’s shoulders trying to get those lips back.  “Please,”

 

“Shh, Warrick.”  Nick brushed a soft kiss to those lips and guided those hands over his head.  “I got you, my sweet Warrick.  And I’m gonna make you feel so damn good. Lie back.”

 

Warrick stretched out over his sheets, arms reaching for the headboard that Nick had just been clinging to.  //That’s my man.  Hold on tight.  Those eyes locked to his, drowning in heat.  “All yours, Nicky. Take me.”

 

“That’s the plan, Warrick.”  Smiling, Nick ran his hands up and down the heavy muscles of those arms, watching those hands clench on the bars.  “That’s it,” Another kiss made Warrick’s back arch and his arms tighten.  //Gorgeous, Nick weakly pulled back from those tempting lips, to kiss his way down Warrick’s chest.  A lick over each stiffened nipple brought a groan to those gorgeous lips.  He smiled against that heart and kissed his way down a clenching stomach to the very tip of a milk chocolate erection.

 

“Oh, fuck, please. Nicky.”  Strong hands moved to his face and neck as lean hips struggled to stay still, rocking just a little.  “Please, Nicky, please.”

 

Those gorgeous blue eyes locked to his face just in time for Nick to watch his reaction to the first long, slow stroke of his tongue along that hard shaft.  //Beautiful, “Yes, Nicky, so good, more.”

 

//You want more? You got it, man.  Smiling, Nick slid the head of Warrick’s shaft into his mouth, watching those eyes close and that chest heave with a wordless groan. //Yes, Warrick, need me, need this.

 

Every inch of Warrick’s body was tense with need and pleasure and Nick loved it. Every stroke of his mouth along that erection wound Warrick’s muscles tighter and tighter.  Gorgeous hands fisted in the sheets as lean hips rocked with helpless little thrusts.  And his voice… //My sweet Warrick.  Warrick was gasping and groaning with every slick movement.  His name and words like yes, please, fuck and more sounded so damn good on those gorgeous lips.

 

Nick wanted more.  He needed to shatter Warrick in his mouth, in his arms.  He pulled that clenched fist from the sheets and slid his fingers to intertwine their grips.  Just a little more, Warrick needed just a little more to give Nick all he wanted.

 

And he had a plan.

 

000

 

//Fuck, yes, sweet Nicky.  Warrick was losing his mind.  His sweet, loyal, southern boy had absolutely no reason to be so damn mind-meltingly good at this.  Yet with no experience, his boy scout had him swearing like a sailor and about to blow.

 

Strong fingers pried open his grip and clasped their hands together.  Warrick could feel everything in that moment: wet mouth pulling and licking, warm, soft skin against his own. And he was a nerve’s edge from ecstasy.  //So damn close.  Please, Nicky.

 

Nick’s free hand dragged slow heat up his thigh to his hip.  Once there, strong fingers tightened against muscles fighting to stay still.  And moved them.  Nick helped Warrick’s hips thrust against his face, taking every aching inch of him deeper.

 

“Fuck, yes, Nicky!” One thrust and he couldn’t stop, and Nick’s hand guided the next thrust harder and deeper. And fuel on the bonfire, Nick groaned around his length and squeezed his hand.  Warrick shattered, spilling over into heat and pleasure.  “Nicky, yes, my Nicky!”

 

When Warrick could fight for the tiniest bit of muscle control, he dragged his sweet southern boy up against his chest and wrapped both arms around him for a kiss, for a deep, hot, and tender dance of tongues. He could taste himself on those delicious lips and wanted more.  Warrick cupped a hand along that strong jaw, diving deep into a kiss.

 

“Warrick,” Nick’s eyes were hot on his face as those pale fingers slid along a strong jaw. The look in those gorgeous brown eyes was trying to steal the little bit of air Warrick had dragged into his lungs.  Good god, Nick wanted him almost as much as he wanted him back. “Warrick,” Those hot eyes closed as his Nicky leaned down for another kiss.  This one was so soft, warm and sweet that it nearly brought tears to his eyes.  This was his Nicky, his loyal, brave, southern boy kissing him with so much emotion he didn’t know himself what words could have done to express this wealth of feeling.

 

Weakly allowing those lips to pull back, he met those eyes with a soft smile. “Right here, my Nicky.  You got me.”  Warrick watched his own fingers run through that soft, dark hair. He felt every muscle and nerve in his body melt into the heat of his Nicky in his arms and his heart. “And I got you, my sweet Nicky. Come here.” That gorgeous man in his arms smiled and laid against his ribs, head resting on the line of his shoulder.  “That’s my Nicky,”