Author's Note: One of the lines in this story is courtesy of my friend. Thanks for that, Hayl. Not like you'll ever read this … seeing as how you despise The Love, but that's a rant for another day. D
Oneshot. Romance. Puuure romance. Nick/Greg. Nick's POV. Slash.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters mentioned.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Hayley for the inspiration, and to Amanda for proofreading, as usual.
Summary: What starts off as an ordinary night turns into something that could be called a complete disaster with a romantic twist, or maybe it's just a complete disaster. The culprit—a witty man and an Eggo waffle.
An Eggo Means Love
It was a few hours after sunset in Las Vegas, Nevada. The moon hadn't risen in the sky yet, and a few clouds were strewn haphazardly across the twilight sea that was sparkled with far away pinpricks of light. The night was cool with a breath of fresh wind blowing in from the North.
Nick sat at the kitchen island, completely engrossed in what he was reading. His foot jiggled nervously as he raced through the chapter, turning page after page. He didn't know what Greg was talking about—Lord of the Rings was an extremely interesting read.
He read the last sentence at the end of book four and shut the paper covers of The Two Towers. Nick glanced around the empty kitchen and turned in his seat to check if Greg was in the living room. He wasn't.
"Hey Greg," Nick called at large to the house, "I don't know why you kept laughing at me when I was reading these books. You must've been on something when you read them back in high school. They are not boring!"
"Yes they are! But maybe you're boring too, so you kind of fit together," Greg hollered back, evidently in the bedroom. Nick chuckled to himself, and he rolled his eyes. He was itching to see if Sam could buck up the courage to rescue his master, but Greg had been complaining that he and Nick barely spent any time together anymore. Frodo could wait a little bit longer, couldn't he?
"Hey G, what are you up to?" Nick asked as he entered the bedroom they shared. Greg glanced over his shoulder as the Texan entered the room, but he continued to fluff the pillows. The younger man had been cleaning the room and changing the sheets on the bed.
"You know," Greg said, picking up the laundry basket of clean clothes, "you could maybe help out with some of the housework sometime." Greg quickly went to the dresser and started to sort the clothes into their appropriate drawer. "Just a thought."
Nick sighed and went to Greg. He softly took hold of the younger man's right hand and brought it to his lips. "I'm sorry G. I wasn't really thinking." He kissed all of Greg's knuckles. "How about I make supper?"
Greg laughed aloud. "You? Make supper? I must be dreaming."
The Texan allowed a hurt expression to cloud over his face. "What, I make the meals too, you know."
"Nicky," Greg said, pulling his hand from Nick's grasp. "The only meal you ever make is KD, and it's usually for yourself. And that only happens when I'm not home and we don't have any extra money for take-out."
"Gee, you make me sound like such a caring boyfriend," Nick muttered.
"This just … isn't your scene, Nick. It would be nice if you'd try a bit harder, though. So maybe you should make some supper. I'm getting hungry."
Nick nodded and turned to leave the room, his mind buzzing with thoughts. Was he really that bad of a boyfriend? Sure, he wasn't perfect, but he wasn't that bad, right? The Texan shook his head, the idea to help out around the house more often formed in his mind, and he told himself he would act upon it accordingly.
Nick reached the kitchen and washed his hands thoroughly at the sink. He dried them, and then took a step back, thinking of what he could make for supper.
He could make … Eggos.
How about bacon and scrambled eggs?
Or, of course, KD.
Nick actually laughed out loud at himself. Pathetic. Randomly, he vaguely remembered listening to a few teenage girls talking yesterday, and one of the taller teenager's words floated into his mind: "You are made of fail."
"I totally am," Nick remarked to himself, scratching his head wearily. So those were the options … what would Greg want for supper?
Greg wasn't overly fond of bacon and eggs … nor did he really enjoy KD anymore. He did, however, still love Eggos.
"Hmmmm …" Nick murmured to himself. Sure, why not. What wasn't to love about having waffles for supper?
Greg had just finished putting some clothes into the washing machine when he smelled something burning. He paused, contemplating what it could be when it hit him: Nick.
"Nick, what's burning?" he called, racing down the hall into the kitchen. A waft of black smoke was coming from the toaster.
"It's stuck!" Nick yelled, waving a hand in front of his face.
Greg groaned and turned off the toaster, unplugging it swiftly. Nick took a few steps back, leaning up against the island, still waving his hand.
Greg was not very amused. "Don't you know how to work the toaster, Nicky?"
Nick flushed, and his hand dropped down to his side. "Yeah, I do actually."
"Well, that seems to be news to me," Greg muttered, turning to look at the toaster. He grabbed a plastic fork out of a drawer and got to work on what was stuck in there. A few minutes later and Greg had found the culprit. He held the blackened Eggo up. "An Eggo, Nicky?"
Nick flushed an even brighter, more furious red. "Yeah, so?"
Greg just gazed in amazement at the older man. "An Eggo?"
Nick glared back. "Yes, is there a problem?"
"You burned an Eggo?"
Nick didn't have a response. All he did was cross his arms, an unpleasant expression on his face. Greg couldn't take it any longer—he burst into laughter, tears quickly rolling down his cheeks.
The Texan's ugly expression quickly turned to shock. "What are you laughing at?"
"Everything," Greg choked out, clutching his stomach. "You … me … the Eggo," and with that he started laughing again.
Nick allowed himself to smile grudgingly as he waited for Greg to stop with the hysterics. He was sort of bewildered about why the younger man found this so funny, anyways.
"Nick," Greg finally gasped, slowly straightening up. "I love you. You make my life funnier."
Nick cocked an eyebrow. "I'm glad, but I wasn't trying to be funny. This was a serious attempt at a meal, Greg."
"I know, that's what makes it funny," Greg said, waving the burned Eggo around.
"'Kay, just give it here," Nick growled, gesturing for the waffle.
"Why do you want it?"
"'Cause it's mine, that's why. I was … uh …"
"You going to eat it, Nick? And what about me?"
"Yes. I was going to eat it, and I'll make another special Eggo, just for you," Nick replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
Greg chuckled softly as he took a few steps toward Nick. "You going to take it from me, Nick?"
The Texan looked up at the younger man. Greg had a light gleaming in his dark eyes, and his face was slightly flushed. Nick licked his lips. "Leggo my Eggo, Greggo," he said, his voice deepening to a low rumble.
Greg's face turned a bit more serious, a dark lustful look in his eyes as he stepped closer to the older man. "That was either extremely hot, or just plain sad."
"Oh really."
Greg smiled slightly, his lips parted. "I'll go with hot … and you have no idea how hot that was."
"Oh, no?"
"Not at all …" Greg was just inches away from Nick, and his breath was hot on Nick's cheek. The Texan took a deep breath, smelling the mint and peppermint of Greg's breath.
"You going to tell me how hot that was, then?" Nick murmured, a tremor running through his solid body. When he looked into Greg's eyes, he was just a blade of grass being blown about in the wind. Greg's eyes dropped him into a tornado of feelings, of emotions. Greg's eyes were the most descriptive part about him, and they were absolutely perfect.
The younger man grinned and leaned forwards, kissing Nick's awaiting lips in earnest. He leaned into the Texan, pushing him up against the island. Nick's hands found their way to Greg's hips, and he pulled the younger man closer, the kiss deepening. They finally broke apart, both of them breathless.
"What were we doing?" Greg asked dazedly, his eyes still that lustful shade of brown.
"I couldn't tell you," Nick answered breathlessly. Greg raised his right hand and a puzzled expression came on to his face as he gazed at the black waffle. "Oh, right," he muttered. He put the Eggo down on to the counter, turning his attention back to Nick.
"Who needs dinner, anyways? There are so many other things we could be doing …" Greg let the sentence trail off.
"Like messing up the neatly made bed?" the Texan suggested, a growl entering his throat. Greg put his hands on both sides of Nick's face and he leaned into the older man, their lips connecting once again.
"I'll take that as a yes," Nick whispered between kisses. He lifted up Greg by the waist, and the younger man's legs wrapped around Nick's hips. He carried his lover towards the bedroom, almost stumbling into the walls numerous times. With a sigh they collapsed on to the bed.
Nick took a deep breath, smelling the lilac smell of the detergent. "It smells so nice."
Greg nuzzled Nick's neck and responded: "Mhmm."
Nick slowly teased Greg's hair around his finger, kissing the man's head gently. "You sure you don't want to eat first?"
Greg sat up and softly put himself on top of Nick's lower abdomen. He reached for Nick's hands and kissed the fingers. "No, that wasn't what I had in mind, actually."
"You mean you planned this?" Nick asked in amazement as Greg leaned forwards slightly, pinning the Texan's hands down on to the duvet cover.
"Of course."
"But … uhh …"
Greg sighed and smiled endearingly at the man below him. "Nicky, with you cooking tonight, what else would we end up doing?"