Title: You Clean Up Well
Author: Daisy
Fandom: Left 4 Dead
Setting: Savannah, Georgia
Pairing: Nick/Ellis
Characters: Nick, Ellis, Keith, Dave, Keith's Brother
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T
Chapters: 1/1
Word Count: 1663
Type of Work: One-Shot
Status: Complete
Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, Fluff, AU - Non-Zombie AU, Alcohol Use
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: When Nick's car broke down on that lonely highway, he'd never expected it to end like this.
AN: Welp, here's another thing for my buddy James. ouo He deserves to have some fluffy stuff, and he chose this pairing out of the ones I wanted to write. I hope he enjoys this, and I hope you do too!
Note: Acerbi is an Italian surname that means "heartless, harsh."
You Clean Up Well ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Nick Acerbi couldn't have fathomed what possessed him to come to this backwoods little wedding, beyond that bewitching smile.
All he remembered was getting stuck in this damn place when his car broke down, the Maserati GranTurismo too much of a problem for most of the places in this town. He was proud of the pristine white paint, the cream, black and powder blue interior, the leather that couldn't have been softer to the touch… But he wasn't the kind of man that would get down and dirty and change his own oil. And, apparently, most of the shops in Savannah wouldn't, either. Parts for his car would be expensive and hard to get their hands on, and he wanted the work done much too fast. Everywhere had turned down his demands, except one particular mechanic's shop that looked much less like it was run professionally. "Oh, yeah, brother, we'll fix up your hot rod." The way Ellis Dean had said it almost made it sound endlessly dirty, like the smudge of dirt on his cheek and… Well, he gave a new meaning to 'well oiled abs.' Nick didn't know when he'd lost his shirt, but it sure was a good look on him. "How much?" He'd asked, and the brunet had merely pulled off his blue cap, ran his hand over his sweat-slicked brow, and smiled the kind of smile that could part oceans and leave everyone else stunned. "My best friend's brother's wedding is this weekend." He had insinuated, only to get Nick to roll his hand as if to get the other to continue. "I need a date." The way he stuck his thumbs into the folded fabric of the low-hanging coveralls he wore should have been illegal. Ellis had the look to him of the kind of guy that expected his smile and attractive body to get him everything he ever wanted, and it was hard for the Bostonian to deny the allure of it. "Alright, that's all you want?" It seemed an odd price to pay, to be honest, but Nick was all for free service. As much money as he had from his various… Endeavors, he wasn't willing to part with it if he could get away with something else. Usually, he would offer his services to women, and a damn lot of them, too, but there was something unnervingly disarming about the tanned hick that had done little more than shift his weight so that his hips swiveled a bit and smiled again. "That and the time I need. Won't be so bad, you gotta be here 'till Saturday, anyway." He'd said that Wednesday, and, as promised, the work had been done Friday evening. It seemed Ellis had stayed behind to make sure his date had a car that was working. Now, normally, Nick would have been gone the second his car was back in his hands; but that damnable grease monkey knew all the right strings to pull. He'd leaned forward, slowly, and the Bostonian had been completely powerless to stop those plump, soft lips from connecting with his cheek. "Can't wait until tomorrow, brother." The whisper felt warm and a little damp on his cheek, and it had been all Nick could do to nod and smirk in that way that kept him aloof. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be there." It hadn't taken long for the directions to be etched out on the back of a receipt, and with another kiss to the other's chin, this time, the tanned Georgian peeled off to grab his shirt and tug it on. Heading for a beat up blue mountain bike, he pulled it from the garage, closed it up and locked it, and rode off before the elder man had a chance to offer him a ride. The sight of him riding off into the sunset was something Nick had to force himself to forget.
Now, he stood to one side of the barn, finding himself sipping a half-warm beer he'd nicked off of someone, waiting for something to happen. The wedding, so far, was just guests arriving, and from what he could tell, he was overdressed by a thousand miles. White suit in place, powder blue dress shirt beneath it, he figured he maybe should have prepared for this situation. Most people wore their nicest clothes, which seemed to be billowing skirts and Wal Mart blouses, or plaid button-down shirts and jeans with large belt buckles slapped on the front. Honestly, he was getting tired of waiting, just about ready to tear out of this place, when his heart stopped in his chest and he felt the breath punched out of his lungs.
Rolling up in that beat up old truck that the groom's brother drove was none other than Keith, Dave, and Ellis, whooping and hollering as they parked halfway on the lawn. Again, Nick questioned why he had come, until he saw just what hopped out of the bed of the pickup and sauntered for him like he owned the place. That had him gulping again, heat rising on his cheeks as he took a long gulp from his beer.
Those wild curls couldn't be held back by anything but his blue cap, it seemed, tight and loose all at once as they bounced on his head. He'd nursed his black eye down to a bruise ringing it, and looked rather like he'd even tried to use some concealer on it. White teeth were brushed and fresh, his smile should have sparkled, Nick thought absently. But what really had his attention was the tightly fitted cream suit the hick wore, the bright blue tie hiding beneath it, over the white, pressed button-down. Everyone else sort of fell to the background as those lips honed in on his own, and Nick found his lips pressed to Ellis' before he knew what was happening.
"Glad you could make it, Nick." The name rolled off his tongue like a promise that had Nick loosening the collar of his shirt a bit.
"Yeah, well, a promise is a promise." He batted it off easily, and as the chimes began to signal everyone had better sit down, Nick found himself sandwiched between Ellis and the aisle, Keith and Dave on the other side of their friend. The actual wedding itself was mostly like every other one he'd found himself at before, boring and too long-winded to really care. Something about the heat on his leg from the strong mechanic's hand was enough to have him staying somewhat awake, however, absently scratching his jaw.
It was the after party, however, that really proved that he was well into the South.
Just about every attendee had a beer in their hand, swaying to the music being played in-house. Laughter and chatting swelled with the beat, the bride and groom having their dance to 'their song', some crooning country single, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the man swaying against his side. Those blue eyes hid beneath their lids, a soft smile on plump lips, he looked like he might as well be the bride, instead. Nothing beat seeing Ellis like this, and Nick could feel the itch in his gut to take off before he fell. For some reason, he didn't.
Maybe it was a little late in the ceremony for his liking, but the bride sidled up the walk of the sprawling steps of the house the barn owner had, turning her back to the crowd below. A few guys jostled Ellis (making Nick grit his teeth) to go join the rampant bride's maids in their bid for the bouquet, and, with laughter that could have worked miracles, he held up his hands placatingly and joined them. It went without saying that he could get the most air, and after a tussle with a heavy-set woman, he came up with the flowers in hand; and a split lip.
"Oh, Ellis…" Nick murmured when he jogged over, taking the other's jaw in hand and shaking his head, "You really wanted that damn thing, didn't you?" He chuckled, now, fighting the urge to run by leaning in and kissing the other, sucking that bloody lip into his mouth and revelling in the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. When they finally broke apart, whoops and shouts broke out around them. Honestly, he hadn't expected to be so welcomed by this group of people, but they seemed pretty into the idea that Ellis would be happy. Perhaps he should have expected it.
The sun was setting by the time the cake had been cut and food had been served, everyone chatting over their meals and sloshing drinks. Everyone was getting plenty sloshed, it seemed, and there was no exception for the brunet now sitting in Nick's lap, demolishing a plate of chicken and macaroni like he'd never eat again. It still surprised him how affectionate the younger man was, but he supposed that was just Southern Hospitality for you. A song came on, he couldn't pick it out of the others, but Ellis sure did, and their food found a new home on the floor as he pulled the Bostonian up to dance.
It was oddly slow, he noted, as Ellis tucked in against his chest and he wrapped his arms around him, swaying to the beat. When his car had broken down on that lonely road, he'd never expected something like this.
"You know, Nick." The Georgian started, "I'm real glad you came with me. I'm having such a good time."
"Yeah, kid. Me, too." He murmured back, closing his eyes and just relishing in their dance. When he opened them again, stars began to shine overhead, the lights strung up everywhere not enough to blot them out. He didn't know how long they danced, how long he held the hick in his arms, and he didn't rightly care. This was too good to be true.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN:
