A/N: I wrote this before Nick moved in with Monroe and, therefore, before we had canonical evidence that Monroe had a spare room, just FYI.
"Give it up, Goldilocks. You miss sleeping in a real bed," Monroe said as he ruffled Nick's hair. "I think this pretty much proves it. But I'm, uh, turning in for the night."
Nick yawned ostentatiously and rolled over onto his other side without comment.
"Uh, Nick...it's my bed. I sort of need to, you know, sleep in it," Monroe grumbled as he pushed Nick towards the edge of the bed. Although he certainly could if he wanted to, he had no actual intention of kicking Nick out of his room. He thought Nick ought to go back downstairs out of common courtesy. He had, after all, graciously allowed Nick to stay on his couch for the past couple weeks as Hank starting to date Juliette had made it difficult for Nick to stay at Hank's any longer.
"I'm not stopping you," Nick mumbled into the sheets. Monroe considered that for a moment. Standard manly expectations aside, there was no good reason why they couldn't share a bed, at least from Nick's perspective. From Monroe's, there seemed to be a thousand. Except he couldn't just tell him that.
When Nick didn't budge after a few more meaningful, though not particularly forceful prods, Monroe gave it up as a lost cause, found his pajamas, and headed for the living room.
He was halfway down the stairs when Nick's fingers brushed against his wrist and coiled around it, "It's not just the bed I've been missing. It's also someone to share it with."
Monroe grimaced and leaned into the wall. Maybe the reasons were more two sided than he thought. "Nick, I can't sleep with you just because you're lonely. I don't want to be someone you come to out of desperation."
That seemed to touch a nerve as Nick recoiled, and Monroe figured it should since it's how their whole relationship started. Nick had needed someone, and he had been the only one there. Well, not this time. Monroe didn't want to be the only choice, he wanted to be the choice. Nick sat down on the steps as Monroe treaded down them, "Wait..."
"I'm listening," Monroe said as he sat down a step below Nick.
"Hank and Juliette are just so happy, you know?" Nick said drowsily. Monroe wasn't sure it was meant to be a question or if he was meant to answer. It was clear to him that Nick was still half asleep. But he nodded sagely, like he understood. After all, the two of them had seemed in the throes of romantic bliss when he, Rosalee, and Nick had gone out to dinner with them last week. "They threw caution to the wind, just hoping I'd be okay with them being together. And they're lucky too, because I'm happy for them. Really. I envy Hank though."
"Because you still want to be with Juliette?" Monroe asked, his heart sinking. He really wasn't sure where Nick was going with this, but evidently he had hoped somewhere other than his secret pining for his ex-girlfriend. After all, Monroe thought sullenly, he'd done a good job of bottling it up for the past couple months.
"No, because even though he was afraid of losing a good friendship, he still followed his heart," Nick said, staring forlornly at the wood. "I can't do it. I want to, but I can't."
Monroe cocked his eyes, brimming with curiosity and rising suspicion, up at Nick. Then Nick's stormy blue eyes locked with his deep brown ones, "I can't lose you, Monroe."
Monroe stared wordlessly into Nick's unwavering eyes until Nick awkwardly averted his gaze, "So, go sleep in your bed, and I'll take the couch, and I'll look for somewhere else to stay in the morning."
"You won't. You won't lose me, I mean," Monroe said, as he awkwardly tried to find his footing. "As much force as you used to push yourself into my life is how much you'll have to use to push me out of yours."
"Well, no sense in going backwards," Nick said, a warm smile spreading across his face as some of his drowsiness seemed to dissipate. He closed the space between them and slowly pushed Monroe into the wall and firmly pressed their lips together. Monroe wrapped his arms around Nick's waist and stood up as Nick wrapped his legs around his torso, neither of them breaking the kiss. Entangled thus, they found their way back to Monroe's bed.
The next morning, the alarm on Monroe's phone started playing part of The Nutcracker Suite. Nick raised his eyes at him with unbridled amusement.
"It's after Thanksgiving. This is perfectly acceptable," Monroe said unapologetically. "Sorry it woke you up, though. I didn't think to turn it off."
"Monroe, Thanksgiving was a week ago, and it's still November," Nick said. Then he continued, with a hint of mischief in his eyes, "And don't worry about it. You were kind of preoccupied, after all."
Monroe, taking the hint, rolled over, and in a frenzy, they started to kiss all over again. But after a minute, Monroe drew back. He wasn't sure he wanted the answer to his question, but he had to ask, "Hey, uh, I want to ask you, why were you even in my bed last night? If you were so worried about, uh, ruining our friendship?"
"It actually wasn't on purpose," Nick said as he rubbed his hand down his face. Monroe noted that he looked a little sleep deprived. They had been up fairly late.
"How was that not on purpose?" Monroe asked skeptically.
"Well, when you left to go to the spice shop last night, you left your book on the kitchen table," Nick said.
"So?" Monroe prompted, unsure how that could have possibly led to Nick being in his bed.
"And I thought I'd put it on your bedside table so you wouldn't tear the house apart looking for it later, like you usually do," Nick continued.
"Okay, that explains why you were in my room, not my bed," Monroe said hesitantly.
"When I did, I sat down on the edge of your bed, and, well, it was a long day of filling out paperwork at work yesterday. And as comfortable as your couch is, it's no substitute for a bed. I'm still surprised I didn't fall asleep over dinner. Anyway, I just sort of drifted off, sitting up. When I woke up twenty minutes later, and you still weren't home, I figured you and Rosalee were really chatting away and what the hell, I could be back downstairs before you did get home if I set an alarm. But my alarm never went off."
"Well, uh, thanks for putting my book back," Monroe said falteringly. Although the justification for it still made sense, he was starting to feel guilty about relegating Nick to the couch. He clearly wasn't getting anywhere near enough sleep. He could fix that, though.
"Stay here and go back to sleep," Monroe said, pressing a kiss to Nick's forehead. "I'll be back."
Nick blinked up at him, nodded in assent, and closed his eyes. Monroe thought he might have fallen back asleep before he even reached the door.
Three hours, two sets of pilates, and one shower later, Monroe was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee, and debating if Nick would want him to wake him up since it was going on ten. However, at that moment, Nick, wearing a blue bathrobe and rubbing a hand through still wet hair, strolled languidly into the kitchen. He leaned down and kissed Monroe before going to pour himself his own cup of coffee.
"There's a danish for you on the counter," Monroe offered as Nick headed back to the table. As he sat down across from him, Monroe contemplated how strange this wasn't. He and Nick had gone through almost the same morning routine the whole time he'd lived here, albeit usually a few hours earlier, and even before he lived here, the only difference being that Nick had never kissed him before.
"Nick, I have some bad news for you," Monroe said portentously as he set his coffee down on the table.
Nick, looking appropriately fearful, raised his eyes to Monroe's.
"I'm not sure we were ever just friends," Monroe said levelly.
Nick spit out his most recent sip of coffee as he gawked at Monroe. Then recovering his composure, he said, "Now you tell me."