A/N: I got frustrated with my first Nick/Monroe story, so I started writing.. this. Unashamed PWP. Enjoy ;)

Monroe was lying in bed and counting broccoli florets jumping over a hedge. It wasn't working. He was yet to discover a vegetarian alternative to sheep that would help him sleep.

The clockmaker felt awful for his friend. Nick had been so brave and stoic all along, first when Juliette fell into a coma, and later, when she woke up missing her memories, and even after that, when Monroe had to tell him about the kiss. He never lost hope, and this was one of the many reasons why Monroe admired him. But now that Nick had to move out of his own house the stress was really starting to show. When Monroe went to bed the detective was still sat downstairs on the sofa, demolishing his supply of imported German beer and pretending to watch QVC. Well, maybe he was watching, but Monroe found it difficult to believe that Nick intended to buy three pairs of pink ladies' pants. Monroe wished with all his heart that he could do something for his friend, something more significant than just providing him with emergency accommodation. He tried to strike up a comforting conversation, but for some reason the long and fascinating history of his talking Stalin-era matryoshka clock failed to produce a significant improvement in Nick's mood. So, in the end, he had to say good night. He hated going to bed after 10 pm.

Monroe turned to the other side, and, to his surprise, found himself in a forest, chasing a squirrel. Just to say 'hello', of course. He followed it all the way up a tree, to the highest branch, from where it jumped onto his shoulder and said:

"Monroe, wake up."

The clockmaker found it had an unusually deep voice, for a squirrel. The little ball of fur continued to jump up and down on his shoulder.

"Monroe? Monroe!"

He opened his eyes – and instantly jumped into a sitting position, suddenly wide awake. In the dim light of the moon seeping through the window he could just about make out a person-shaped shadow sitting on his bed, and very close.

Monroe switched on a bedside lamp. The shadow became Nick-shaped.

"Dude, are you okay?"

The detective looked at him out of bloodshot eyes. He was still wearing his clothes from earlier, a dark blue shirt and jeans. Obviously, he had not been to bed yet.

"I can't sleep."

Nick's gaze started sliding down and Monroe became acutely aware that it was a warm night and he was au naturel. He drew the duvet right up to his armpits.

"Um, I can make you a warm milk?"

Nick looked away and laughed softly.

"My mother used to do that."

"So you want..?"

Nick shook his head, barely noticeable.

"I'm not a child anymore."

"Okay, well..", Monroe scratched the back of his head, feeling a little uneasy. He was not exactly used to having visitors in his bedroom in the middle of the night. "Would you like to talk?"

There was the same silent, negative response. Monroe was running out of ideas. He looked at the clock on the wall opposite. It was almost 2 in the morning.

"So how can I –"

He did not get to finish that sentence as Nick suddenly leaned over and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his face into Monroe's naked shoulder and interlocking his hands behind his neck.

The clockmaker froze, more than just a little confused. Nick wasn't usually the hugging type.

"Erm.."

He wasn't sure what to do, so he went with lightly patting his friend on the back.

"It's alright. Everything will be fine. I promise."

Monroe wished he could say something more substantial, but the whole situation made him lost for words, which was quite a rare experience. Nick did not reply but gave a contented sigh and Monroe shivered from the warm breath on his skin. He tried to move away a few inches but Nick seemed glued to his upper body.

"Uh, Nick, shall I call Rosalee maybe?" Monroe was alarmed by the sudden unevenness that had crept into his voice. "I'm sure she is better at this kind of stuff. You know, I'm not really qualified to-ohh-"

Monroe gasped as he felt Nick lightly kissing his shoulder. This had to be some kind of really weird misunderstanding. He opened his mouth to clarify the situation but did not get very far as Nick's hands moved up to tangle themselves in his hair and the detective's lips dragged across his shoulder, pressing into the nook of his neck.

"Nick -"

Monroe's breath caught in his throat and he could not make it go any further. He felt completely helpless as Nick continued to slowly kiss up his neck, causing his insides to flutter more and more noticeably every time. It had been a while since anyone kissed him there.. or, well, anywhere, really.

"Nick.. what.."

The Grimm's mouth reached the edge of his jaw, which was a particularly sensitive spot and Monroe shuddered, suddenly regaining the ability to speak – in a somewhat panicked manner.

"Okay, okay. Okay. That's enough now."

He placed both hands on Nick's shoulders and pushed him away from his chest, more forcefully than intended.

"This is getting a little awkward man."

Nick did not seem to think so since he appeared completely at ease, as if nothing extraordinary had occurred whatsoever. His eyes were looking straight at Monroe, big and soft and with slightly diluted pupils. Monroe tried to calculate how many bottles the detective might have consumed since he last saw him. But his heart was beating way too fast in his chest right now and it affected his mathematical abilities.

"Erm, Nick?", Monroe was trying to think of the most diplomatic way to put this. "Did you swallow anything? I mean, apart from the beer?"

Unexpectedly, Nick gave him a mischievous smile.

"No, but I can, if you want.."

Monroe blinked several times as his brain was working hard to process this, finally spitting out the only suitable, but extremely unlikely interpretation. He felt his face turn bright red.

"Right! I really think you should go get a little rest now."

The clockmaker did his best to sound calm and rational, but he could already feel his inner barriers begin to crumble. Truth was, he did have a soft spot for the Grimm. It was a 'love at first sniff' kind of story, which is why Monroe could never say 'no' to Nick, even at the very start, when they hardly knew each other. But never in his wildest dreams – which, by the way, were not all that wild these days – did he ever think of acting upon his feelings. He had pretty good self-control, and if he managed to stay away from meat and hunting, and some other things that were part of his nature, then an inappropriate little crush was not too difficult to handle. Not that it was 'inappropriate' from Monroe's own personal point of view. Nick was hardly the first guy he had ever fallen for, and that didn't bother him. But they were best friends, and the Blutbad was very certain that Nick didn't swing that way. Obviously, the alcohol – and maybe something else – was muddling his head.

"Come on", Monroe was so thrown off balance he even forgot he was naked. "Let's take you to your own bed."

He made a move to get up but Nick stopped him with a hand on his upper arm. And then, Nick's other hand moved further south and Monroe gave a sharp exhale as his eyes widened in shock.

"I don't think you want me to leave", Nick muttered, "there's firm proof."

Monroe stared at the young man, trying to contain his heart and stop it from jumping through his rib cage. Innuendo was not like Nick. Touching his cock was definitely not like Nick. Monroe liked the Nick that was not like Nick. He found his last shred of self-restraint and held onto it for dear life.

"What.. the hell.. are y- "

Nick leaned in and caught his lips mid-sentence. A ball of heat exploded in Monroe's very core, instantly evaporating all of his resistance. He grabbed a fistful of Nick's hair and furiously pressed his mouth into the Grimm's, flipping him around and pushing him deep into the cushions.

He held his breath as he licked across Nick's upper lip, burning to know if he tasted as good as he smelled, and felt the detective shiver and open up against him, inviting him in. Nick's taste was exhilarating, like springtime, like a run through the woods at dawn. Monroe groaned and clenched both hands into Nick's soft, dark hair, stretching out on top of the Grimm as he deepened the kiss. His pulse was running wild, pounding in his temples – and some other parts of his anatomy. He hunted Nick's tongue, passionately, almost feverishly, not letting go of the detective's lips even for a second, as if scared that he would lose him if he did.

Nick's hand wandered along his arm and up to his face, tracing his jawline, and Monroe's heart almost stopped as he felt how aroused the young man was. He finally dared to break the kiss, pushing himself up on his hand to take in the sight of the Grimm beneath him. The detective's eyes were closed, his lips parted, and there was a light red hue glowing on his cheeks. The image took Monroe's breath away and almost brought a lump to his throat. How had he managed to be so close to Nick for over a year, and never touch him, not even.. It seemed unthinkable now. Monroe cupped Nick's face with his free hand, brushing a thumb over his cheekbone. Nick was so beautiful.

The detective's eyes fluttered open, deep and inviting, blue-green like a pond in a forest glade.

"Your beard tickles.."

The darkness in his pupils was drawing Monroe in. So black.. The Blutbad winced at the sudden pang of guilt. Something was definitely not quite right with Nick's eyes, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't.

"Nick..", Monroe swallowed hard, burning up with desire as his conscience succeeded to gain the upper hand. "We really.. shouldn't be doing.. this."

"Please", Nick whispered, turning his face into the Blutbad's hand and kissing his palm. "I need you, Monroe."

Monroe bit his lip and forcefully shook his head, trying to ignore the surge of heat that washed over him.

"Don't. It's not right. It's not you."

Nick turned to face him again and his eyes narrowed, suddenly full of sadness and hurt.

"Don't you want me?"

It was too much to bear. Monroe leaned down and brushed their lips together once again, more gently this time. He wanted to pour all of his being into that kiss.

"Of course I want you", he whispered against the other man's mouth and the detective gave a shaky sigh, filling his lungs with mouth-watering Nick scent that made his head spin out of control.

".. always..", the Blutbad muttered huskily as that raw, untamed side of him began to take over again, ripping his inhibitions to shreds.

He wanted to immerse himself in that gorgeous smell, to melt into it completely. Monroe only hesitated for a second, then decided he didn't really care if this was appropriate and licked Nick's face, from his chin all the way up to his temple.

".. I've always.. wanted you.."

The Grimm pressed up against him and made an indefinable, but infinitely arousing little sound, digging his fingernails deep into Monroe's skin. The Blutbad growled at the mixture of pain and pleasure, burying his face into Nick's neck and finally allowing himself to woge. He'd been suppressing it for quite a while now and it was actually beginning to drive him crazy.

".. so much!"

He sank his fangs into Nick's throat, delighted by the startled outcry he received. Nick was full of beautiful noises he'd never heard before. Monroe was so enthralled he only barely managed to stop himself from breaking the skin. He had to keep reminding himself that Nick was not a Blutbad, not even a Wesen at all, and he couldn't be quite as rough as he would be with his own kind.

Nick's breath continued to hitch as Monroe was slowly working his way down, kissing every inch of the detective's body and ripping his shirt open in the process. His claws did not exactly allow him to fiddle with the buttons. Every fiber in his body was drenched in the Grimm's scent. His head felt foggy, filled with Nick's elevated heartbeat and the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears, and not much else. The detective was sweating and trembling under his lips and the Blutbad sucked the sweet moisture from his skin, hungrily, craving to reach the area where his taste would be even more intense.

When he arrived at Nick's belt Monroe sat up to gain better control of his hands. They were almost numb with excitement, and also not entirely hand-shaped. He summoned all of his self-control in order to regain his human appearance. Of course, Nick had seen him woged hundreds of times, but right now Monroe was a little bit ashamed of it. Not to mention that fangs would get in the way of what he intended to do.

The Blutbad watched his fingers as they started to undo the buckle, avoiding to look Nick in the face. Part of him was scared that Nick would shout at him to stop, and maybe punch him for good measure. And another part of him was scared that he wouldn't. But, in the end, curiosity got the best of him and Monroe cautiously raised his gaze just as he was about to open the zip.

Nick was looking right at him, eyes wide with expectation and pure, unveiled need. Monroe had never seen him like this before, so completely unguarded and consumed by a single emotion. He stared at the other man in fascination as he proceeded to pull down his jeans and underwear. The Blutbad could hardly believe that Nick was actually, actually letting him do this. The thought alone made him light-headed, as did the Grimm's scent, suddenly overwhelming. Monroe could not wait any longer.

He leaned down, tentatively licking the tip, still unsure how the detective would react and if this was really okay. Nick gasped and flinched, painfully clenching his fingers in the Bludbad's hair.

"Oh.. God!"

Monroe shuddered as all the blood in his veins instantly turned to fire. This was all the reassurance he needed to place his hands on the young man's hips and fully take him into his mouth. Nick was unspeakably delicious! Monroe almost hummed in contentment as he began moving his mouth up and down along the shaft, feeling it grow even harder between his lips.

It had been a while since Monroe had done anything like this, but judging by the moans that came from Nick every time he swirled his tongue around the head and sucked it he wasn't doing too bad a job. It only took a couple of minutes to reduce the Grimm to a wet, throbbing mess of nerves, a mess that was begging him in between shaky pants:

"Oh.. God.. Yes.. Please.. Monroe.."

The sounds alone were almost enough to push Monroe over the edge. Nick was usually pretty restrained when it came to expressing his feelings, and to have him so vocal and unscripted in his arms was astonishing and mesmerising to the point where it was making Monroe dizzy with happiness and arousal. He had half expected Nick to be thinking about Juliette right now, and was entranced to hear his own name from the detective's lips, almost in a sob, to know that Nick was aware it was him he was receiving so much pleasure from.

Monroe was trying to stop himself from picking up pace, to draw it out for as long as possible, forever, if he could, but there was no way to hold back. The intensity of Nick's taste was quite literally driving him wild. Right now, he was as good as ready to eat the detective alive, and not just metaphorically speaking.

He clawed his hands deep into the Grimm's hips, firmly holding them down and stopping them from bucking up as he was sucking and licking, striking up an almost frantic rhythm. Nick was way beyond the ability to utter anything coherent at this point. He was shaking all over, his hands helplessly clasping Monroe's curls.

".. please ..don't stop.."

The Blutbad was hoping there would be some hair left on his head by the end of this whole amazing, crazy scene, but he didn't want Nick to stop. He didn't want anything to stop. All of it, every little detail, was pure perfection.

".. not ..planning to.." Monroe growled, breathlessly, looking up for a second to catch a glimpse of Nick's flushed face, his eyes clenched shut.

He finally felt Nick tense against his hands and lips and sucked even harder until the detective jerked and cried out and Monroe's could feel sweet wet heat filling his mouth. He swallowed it to the very last drop, delirious from the sensual overload when he finally pressed his face into Nick's thigh, struggling to catch his breath. He felt Nick's hands gradually loosen up and softly stroke his hair a couple of times, and then Nick was still.

Monroe slowly sat up, wiping his mouth and looking down at his friend. Nick was sprawled out on the bed, panting heavily, his eyes still shut but relaxed now, and there was the most beautiful, blissful smile on his face. Monroe stared at him, spellbound.

A minute passed and Monroe was expecting Nick to open his eyes at some point, but it didn't happen. He furrowed his brow. Nick's breathing was growing calmer by the second and soon it was perfectly regular. The Blutbad shook his head in disbelief. This was impossible. Nick couldn't just fall asleep on him like that! His whole body was aching and begging to be satisfied, and Monroe felt tempted to shake the Grimm awake and remind him that this was not a one-way street and that, in all fairness, it was Nick who mentioned something about wanting to swallow in the first place.

But then he thought better of it. The poor guy needed all the rest he could get.

Monroe could not help but smile, despite the complaints he was receiving from his groin. He drew the blanket over his friend, careful not to disturb him, then slowly let himself down on the pillow next to him. This was typical Nick. The Grimm was great at getting what he needed from him, and not so great at returning favours. But Monroe never complained. Just being there for Nick had always been good enough, and it was more than good enough right now.

Still, he couldn't exactly sleep like this.

Monroe sighed, letting his hand slide down his body. He felt a little guilty watching Nick while doing this, but, in the end, it was his bed, and where else was he supposed to look?

When he was finished Monroe switched off the light, wrapped his clean hand around Nick's waist and closed his eyes. For a second, the question whether Nick would really appreciate to find himself here in the morning crossed his mind, but he chased it away. This moment was too perfect to be spoiled. And, in all honesty, he was way too tired to give anything a serious thought right now.

"I love you", Monroe whispered just before he fell asleep.

A/N 2: So, yeah. Shall I continue with this story or work on my other one? Opinions please.