My first CSI fic, and my first slash fic, so be nice and review. No flames please, I'm afraid of fire.

I don't own anything CSI related. The song is Standard Lines by Dashboard Confessional and F.Y.I. I don't own that either.

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Standard Lines

Which of the bold faced lies will we use?

I hope that you're happy

You really deserve it

This will be the best for us both in the end

He was amazed at how easily he could lie straight to Nick's face these days. It was nearly impossible before, not that he ever would lie to him. No, their relationship was too sacred and important for that. But now, Nick was packing up his things and Greg was sitting silently on the bed. It was all very cliché and movie-like to him, but he couldn't move to make it real. Couldn't tell Nick that he loved him and that they could make things work if only they tried. And that he was sorry for being the way he was and could he please forgive him? But no, Greg couldn't make his lips form the words that Nick so desperately needed to hear, so instead he studied the bedspread and tried to ignore the sickness in the pit of his stomach.

"We'll always be friends, G."

He bit back the snort that threatened to escape. Yeah, we'll be friends. Maybe when we're both seeing new people we can have a double date. That should be fun. Great, now even the voice in his head was sarcastic. He and Nick would never be friends after this, it would be too awkward. Though it would be kinda fun to go up to Nick's date and say "I fucked your boyfriend." That probably wouldn't go over to well with the Texan though.

But your taste still lingers on my lips

Like I just placed them upon yours

And I starve for you

But this new diet's liquid

And dulling to the senses

And it's crude

But it will do

He'd put on an excellent facade at work, and no one would ever figure it out. Because, lets face it, for CSI's the team wasn't all that observant. Didn't even know that Greg and Nick had been together for over a year, and living together for half that time. You'd think the change of address form would have tipped them off, but they continued to live in their blissful little fantasy world where Nick and Greg were nothing more than good friends.

Fuck being "good friends." Not after everything they'd ever been through. Not after Greg had felt the other man writhing under him in bed, and begging to be fucked into the mattress. Not after he was pinned against the cool metal of a locker and sucked off while they were on the clock and anyone could catch them. They could never be friends again. They could be ex-lovers, or ex-boyfriends, but never ever friends.

Which of these standard lines will we use?

I've been meaning to call you

I've just been so busy

We'll catch up soon

Let's make it a point to

Being friends implied that they would still do things together like watch the game, or engage each other in small talk. And if there was one thing in life that Greg hated with a fierce undying passion, it was small talk. Small talk was something you used on someone you didn't particularly like, but wanted to be polite to. He'd be damned before being reduced to someone Nick small talked.

Nick loved him, he'd heard the words come out of his mouth barely two months after they started seeing each other. Greg hadn't responded, and Nick said it was okay and that he understood. Apparently that understanding had worn out, because Nick was leaving, and Greg was still silent. He felt a warm tear slide down his cheek and watched it fall to the back of his hand. He didn't brush it away, or try to hide the fact that he was crying.

"Jesus Greg." Nick fell to his knees in front of the younger man and used his thumbs to gently wipe away the tears. Nick slid his trembling hands into Greg's wild hair and pulled his face to his. Greg kissed him deeply tasting his tears and the flavor that was uniquely Nick. He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to prolong the moment, but all to soon Nick was pulling away and brushing a thumb over swollen lips. He stood up wearily and picked up the last bag of his clothes he stopped at the door and turned to meet Greg's eyes. "I love you." He walked out then and Greg looked down at the floor, waiting until he heard the opening and closing of the front door before saying,

"I love you too."

But your taste still lingers on my lips

Like I just placed them upon yours

And I starve for you

But this new diet's liquid

And dulling to the senses

And it's crude

But it will do.

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