it's giving .✩‧˚.soft˚.✩‧

More shuffling overcame the speaker, then a more expected voice rang through.

“Greg, look who I found! I got big Nick out on the town!”

Greg heard Nick’s laughter, a swarm of butterflies fluttering below his navel.

“You have to get over here, dude! We’re making Nick do karaoke!”

More laughter. More butterflies.

“I’ll call you a cab!”

“Oh Sara, wait…”

Greg looked at his surroundings. Uneaten soup balancing on the arm of his couch, a wastebasket brimming with tissues, and a coffee table strewn with three different lozenges and five different beverages. A breath whistling through his swollen sinuses.

“No waiting, Greg! Get your ass ready! Tell him, Nick-”

“Greggo, I’m sorry I’ve waited this long to come out, man! I-”

Greg pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his sore eyes shut. 

“I’ll be there in fifteen!”

Sara cheered on the other end, the line shuffling and crackling before being hung up. 

Greg stood frozen in the middle of his living room, phone in one hand and the other raking through his hair. He tried to come up with a plan of attack, but another sort of attack came over him first.

“Heh’mpkt! Ngxt!…guh. Hg’GNNKshoo… HEHYT’schoo!”

This was going to be a long night.

—

Before Greg could fully grasp the situation, he was halfway-decently dressed and leaning over the bar, ordering another whiskey and ginger ale.

People drink whiskey when they’re sick, right? And like, ginger is good for that too?

About an hour of tipsy giggling, complaining about work, and hiding tissues in pockets went by without a hitch… Well there were a few hitches, followed by strangled stifles in the arm of Greg’s cardigan. He felt downright disgusting, and a little guilty for being around so many people, but those concerns kept getting smothered by thoughts of Nick. 

Tight jeans, tighter shirt. Lips delicately surrounding the mouth of his beer bottle. 

Jesus fucking Christ…

Greg’s head was spinning, his face red from illness, alcohol, and adoration. He forced his feet towards the dance floor, needing a minute away from the CSI. Sara followed, twirling around clumsily. Greg laughed, happy the loud music covered the hoarseness of it. He allowed himself to relax into the song, moving naturally despite how the beat made his head pound. He slipped his cardigan off and threw it over his shoulder, revealing a wrinkled band tee, low rise jeans, and a suggestive strip of skin between them. No matter how hard he tried to focus on Sara’s awkward maneuvers or the lyrics blaring through the speakers, Greg couldn’t help but wonder if Nick was looking at him.

If he liked what he saw…

Greg’s eyes widened, and his breath caught in his throat. His heart raced and either Sara was somehow pulling off anti-gravity moves, or he was wildly dizzy. Greg’s eyes darted over to the bar, Nick’s smile beaming over at him and a beer bottle raised in support. The floor seemed to tilt, but Nick didn’t move. No one did. 

Greg’s skin felt like it was engulfed in flame. He darted for the exit.

Greg took a seat on the curb outside, carefully sucking in fresh air while trying to slow his breathing. He held a tissue under his leaking nose, but quickly stuffed it into his pocket when he heard footsteps approaching. 

“Greggo! Are you alright, man?”

The footsteps scraped to a halt and a strong hand clapped over Greg’s shoulder.

“Jesus!” Nick pulled his hand back, looking at his palm. “You’re sweatin’ like crazy…”

Nick took a seat next to Greg, gently pulling the lab tech’s face towards his own. His brows furrowed, deeply concerned by what he saw and confused on how he hadn’t noticed before. Greg’s eyes had a far off look, glassy and pink. His cheeks were two shades deeper, and his nose - three. The neck of his tee shirt was damp and rumpled, just like the tissues spilling out of his jean pocket.

“I didn’t want to… snf… miss this”, Greg coughed weakly into the cardigan draped over his shoulder, “You never comb out.”

Nick straightened, a swirl of thoughts knocking around his head. All he could do was chuckle. Greg looked up at him, almost pouting. 

“Sorry! Sorry… It's not funny. I’m happy you’re here. Even though I’m just now noticing how terrible you look.”

Greg’s pout turned into something open mouthed and offended. He playfully hit Nick on the arm. Nick laughed again, but this time it was punctuated with a look of contemplation and fear.

“Nick?”

Nick let out a deep sigh, pressing his lips together and twisting to face the younger man. He pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, running it along the condensation built up on his beer bottle and then pressing it to Greg’s forehead. Greg tensed.

“I don’t usually come out for a lot of reasons, Greggo. Music’s loud, I’m getting too old for hangovers”, he moved the handkerchief to Greg’s collarbone, shining with sweat. “Mostly, though, there are lines that get really blurry when we’re together… y’know, off the clock.”

Greg felt his stomach bottom out, pulling away from Nick’s touch. 

“I’mb sorry Nick…”

“Sorry for what? No! Greg, they’re my lines that are blurred. I don’t come out with you because after one too many of these”, he gestured to the bottle in his hand, “I can’t keep my eyes off of you.”

“...Well, have you?” Greg murmured, looking at Nick. “Have you had one too many?”

Nick looked out onto the street.

“Turns out, now I don’t need any at all…”

Greg exhaled, irritating his sensitive nose.

“H’mpkt!…geh…snf…Hei’ashoo!”

“I’m sorry, Greg… maybe now’s not the time, you really should be in bed.”

Nick stood, flustered, pulling up Greg clumsily. He pressed his handkerchief into the other man’s hand, but not letting go.

“Ndo! Ndo, it’s finde.. I just want to mbake sure I'm dnot in a literal fever dreamb.”

Nick flushed almost as pink as Greg, gearing up to say something brave.

“Maybe if I looked after you tonight, we can check again in the morning?”

“...Yeah okay…snff… that sounds… really dnice.” 

“Okay, great”, Nick looked over at the door, “well… we better go tell Sara-”

“Shit, Sara!” Greg's eyes widened, forgetting where he was at that moment. 

“I’ll go talk to her, make sure she gets into a cab. You should come in the air conditioning for a minute though, you went a little too hard on the dancefloor tonight.”

“You saw that, huh?”

“Saw a lot tonight…” Nick poked the exposed skin on Greg’s hip.

“Woah there, Texas! Take mbe to dinner first.”

“As long as dinner is soup and decongestant”, Nick replied sweetly.

Something clutched Greg’s heart, and the butterflies swarmed to their normal spot. He dabbed at the sweat on his forehead with the handkerchief as Nick opened the door. Their eyes met once again, hazy and curious. Nick waved his arm, signaling Greg to go first.