Title: Never Too Late
Chapter: 11
Rating: PG-13 for language and adult themes
Author's Note: Thanks, everyone, for reading and the kind and helpful comments. Next chapter, there will probably be some smut…yay!
Greg was staring.
He knew he was staring, and everyone around him probably knew he was staring too. If he was in a Sunday morning cartoon, drool would be dripping down his chin. Why? Because an unfairly hot Texan with charm as big as the state he came from and a body to match kept bending over an enjoyably low car he was processing, giving Greg a very distracting shot of his rear every time he did so. And what annoyed Greg most was that Nick seemed to have absolutely no idea how hot he was. He certainly had no idea of what he was doing to Greg, but although he was supposed to be processing a hub cap or something on the table a few feet away from Nick, he was somehow finding it difficult to concentrate.
"Greg? Greg?"
He finally registered Nick's voice and shook his head a little, literally trying to snap himself out of his trance.
"Huh?"
"Screw driver?"
Greg nodded. "Right." He handed Nick the tool and went back to his solemn gawking.
"Um, Greg?" Nick announced a few moments later.
"Yeah?"
"This is a hammer."
Greg nodded again. "Right."
"Are you feeling okay tonight, G?" Nick asked, taking the screw driver, or so Greg hoped, from his shaking hand.
Greg nodded. "Yeah, what gives you the impression I'm not?"
Nick smiled a little and walked closer to Greg, a musky, manly scent filling his nostrils.
"Because this is a wrench, G."
Greg nodded once more. "Right."
"Are you genuinely losing your mind or did your dad never teach you about tools?"
"No, my dad taught me about tools…sort of. I'm just a little distracted."
A thought suddenly crossed Nick's mind that made his heart wrench a little. He looked around to make sure no one could see before placing a hand on the small of Greg's back and whispering in his ear.
"Are you feeling sick, babe?"
It took Greg a few minutes to register what Nick was asking, and though Nick's genuine concern made him smile, it also made something inside him jolt.
Greg smiled at his boyfriend. "No, Nicky, I'm fine. Promise. You're just distracting me with your hotness is all."
Nick gave Greg a toothy grin and a quick but effective pat on the butt before beginning work on the car again.
Greg let out a sigh, half in frustration, half in awe. People with Nick's body shouldn't have been allowed to exist, especially not to tease someone who couldn't enjoy it completely. And that was the most frustrating part, because really, if he wasn't such a damn wuss, he could enjoy Nick's toned, hot, available self completely.
Greg turned around so his back was facing Nick and degloved, tossing the oily latex in the waste basket and disrobed the jumpsuit he'd changed into for the dirty work of auto process. He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, and then turned back to Nick who was waste deep in the trunk of the old vehicle.
"Nick?" Nick didn't respond, not being able to hear him. Greg walked over to Nick and sat on the edge of the bumper of the car for several moments. When Nick finally pulled his head from the depths of the trunk, something that looked like a sewing needle in hand, he nearly fell backwards at the shock of having Greg so close.
"Nick?" Greg tried again, more forcefully.
"G, you're sitting on my evidence," Nick ignored.
"Nick!" Greg yelled. Nick's eyes latched onto Greg's. "I think we should have sex."
"You're like three inches from the wall there, Nicky."
"Hey now, I don't want to damage it!"
"What, the painting or the wall?"
Nick gave his boyfriend an unstoppably amused smile, but still backed the frame up slowly, trying to find the hook on the wall. "The painting, Mr. Smart-ass."
"It's a print, babe. If we sold this thing, we'd get like sixteen dollars for it. I wouldn't worry."
Nick rolled his eyes, though that inescapable smile still hung across his face. Michael began rummaging through a box resting on the coffee table a few feet away from Nick and pulled out a few books, placing them in absolutely no order on the bookshelf. Their bookshelf. In their new condo.
"You're still not even close to the wall, but I like watching that hot ass of yours so I don't mind," Michael commented, resting against the countertops in the attached kitchen with his arms crossed over his chest.
"You could come help me, you know."
Michael put a finger to his chin, trying to give the illusion of considering the offer. "No," He said finally. "To the helping, I mean. To the coming…"
"Michael!" Nick exclaimed, though there was no stopping the way the omnipresent smile on his face grew even larger.
"That's exactly the way you should say my name, Nicky, when you're buried in my–"
"Michael!" Nick tried again. "You know your parents are around here somewhere?"
"That's half the fun, Nicky!" Michael shrugged, as if this was a totally obvious fact.
Nick muttered something about Michael being a horny bastard before an older couple arose from their new bedroom followed by Michael's twenty-something smiling sister and announced in their usual half-English, half-Spanish that they were running out for sandwiches.
"Arianna, ir con ellos y asegurarse de que no estrellar el coche," Michael said to his younger sister. Nick was still in the process of learning the language, but he gathered this meant something along the lines of Michael instructing his sister, Arianna, to accompany his parents and make sure they didn't crash the car. Arianna tried to come off as exasperated but failed, partially because she knew Michael was right, and partially because Michael was simply the type of person you couldn't be exasperated with. Nick both loved and hated that about him.
"Good, they're gone," Michael said once the door to the condo had closed behind his parents.
He walked up behind Nick, who was momentarily giving up on the painting, and placed two firm hands on Nick's hips and an open-mouthed kiss to the back of Nick's sweaty neck. Nick sighed but threw his head back nonetheless, giving Michael more skin to latch onto. Nick intertwined his fingers with Michael's and didn't begin to argue when his shirt was removed and he was being led into the bedroom. Their bedroom.
There was really no expressing how wonderful a cold beer tasted after a long, hot, outdoor shift of literally diving through dumpsters. It truly was remarkable, and Greg was enjoying it very much before an abrupt knock came to his front door. He took a quick, disapproving look down at the kitchen floor that was a crime scene nearly two months earlier before opening it.
"Nick, aren't you still on shift?" Was Greg's immediate question when Nick wasted no time in making himself comfortable in Greg's small foyer.
"We need condoms. And maybe dental dams." Nick announced blatantly.
Greg furrowed his eyebrows and internally struggled with wondering just how much alcohol he'd consumed in the last few minutes.
"Okay?" He said simply.
Nick ignored him, and instead began shuffling through the several sheets of paper he was holding in his hands. "…And a couple books, and we should probably make an appointment with your doctor. We can consider post-exposure prophylaxis if you want, though I really don't think it's necessary, and–"
"Nick," Greg interjected, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Nick stepped closer to Greg and brushed his thumb tenderly across Greg's cheek. "Sit," Nick gently commanded, an odd thing to be told, Greg thought, considering he was in his house. But he did as he was told and sat cross-legged on his couch, Nick joining him.
"I don't care, Greg," Was all Nick said at first.
Greg didn't say anything, assuming Nick would continue, but spoke when he didn't.
"I'm still not following, Nicky."
Nick took a deep breath and handed the papers to Greg who took them and began looking through them. Every one of them seemed to be an internet printout, highlighting something about intercourse between HIV-positive and HIV-negative partners. He suddenly realized what Nick was rambling about, and didn't know whether to laugh at his boyfriend's blatant cuteness, or cry at the gesture.
"I don't care," Nick continued as Greg shuffled through the papers. "I don't care that you have HIV, Greg. I really don't. And I've told you before, I'm not afraid of you, and I'm not afraid of having sex with you. But you are, and so all this is for you. But I didn't know how to go about this, because I didn't want to make you feel like I was worried about having sex with you, but I still wanted you to know that I cared, and…"
Before Nick could finish his sentence, Greg's lips were on his, pressing firmly but tenderly.
"You…are very sweet," Was all Greg could think to say when they pulled apart, though he hoped his smile communicated so much more than that.
Judging by Nick's smile in return, it did.
"I'm ready when you are, captain," Nick offered with a chuckle that Greg returned.
"Well then, I should get reading."
Nick nodded once and placed a firm hand on Greg's knee.
"Hey Nick?" Greg asked softly a few moments later, having finished the first article Nick had printed out for him to read.
"Yeah, baby?" Nick responded.
"What the hell is a dental dam?"
"Is something wrong?" Michael asked, looking up at Nick from behind reading glasses and the newspaper he'd been absorbed in.
Nick looked up. "Huh? No, why?"
"Because you keep staring at me. Do I have something in my teeth?" Michael, still somehow charmingly, brought a hand to his mouth and began feeling in between his teeth with the pad of his index finger.
Again, Nick couldn't help but smile, but he shook his head nonetheless and tried to turn his attention back to the book he was reading, a futile goal, he realized, since every few moments his eyes would drift upwards again to focus back on Michael. He was a beautiful man, with olive toned skin and dark hair and features, penetrated only by blazing green eyes and perfect lips that always seemed to be molded into a smile. There was something else etched into his face as well, though, lately. Something that Nick had never seen before. It wasn't quite a series of wrinkles or a similar sign of aging, it was more an unplaceable darkness that had nothing to do with Latino descent. Nick thought he probably knew why, he must have known why, but the reality was too intense for him to bear.
"You're still beautiful," Nick whispered.
"Well my goodness!" Shelby Fox announced, placing a hand dramatically over her heart as she closed the door to the exam room behind her. "Mr. Gregory Sanders, you do listen to your doctor, don't you? I tell you to find a man and you bring me Mr. October himself."
Greg smiled a very warm and welcome smile before standing to hug his doctor, confidante, and friend.
"This is Nick Stokes," Greg said once they broke apart, placing a hand on Nick's back.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Fox," Nick said politely, the Texas twang even more apparent than usual.
"It's Shelby, please." Nick nodded and gave her a warm smile. "Sit, sit, both of you!"
The men did as they were told, sitting next to each other in identical chairs as Shelby pulled up a rolling one of her own. Her coarse, black hair sat in tight ringlets across her head and her smile and sunny demeanor was as present as usual.
"What brings two such handsome men to my office this evening?" She asked.
Greg took a quick breath. "I want to have sex, Shelby," He said quickly, almost as if he was embarrassed. "Well…we do."
"Well of course you do!" Shelby exclaimed. "Look at this man!" She motioned at Nick who blushed under the attention.
"I know," Greg agreed. "But see, the thing is, I'm…it's…I don't…you know?" Greg hoped Shelby knew what he was trying to express, because he wasn't sure himself.
She nodded. "I think I do. You're worried, you have concerns, which is normal for both of you."
"It isn't so much me, Dr…Shelby," Nick interjected. "It doesn't bother me so much, actually."
Shelby gave Nick a warm and admiring smile and placed a hand reassuringly atop his.
"You've had HIV positive partners before, have you not?" She asked.
"Greg told you?" Nick wondered aloud.
Shelby shook her head. "No, I can just tell." She rolled back a little so as to address both of them. "See, the thing about HIV that's so damaging – some may say most damaging – is the stigma. And the fear. You probably are both aware of this. But when you take a step back and look at it, there really are much more dangerous things than having a sexual relationship with and HIV positive partner. In fact, when proper precautions are taken, it's quite safe."
Greg nodded, but it was Nick who spoke first. "The statistics aren't so bad, if I recall."
Shelby nodded, obviously somewhat impressed with her patient's choice in boyfriend.
"That's right," She confirmed. "Without protection, even, the risk of becoming infected with HIV from receptive anal sex is somewhere around one in one hundred. And that decreases greatly with protection."
Greg smiled, remembering reading that somewhere within Nick's extensive research.
"But it's more complicated than that," Shelby continued, this time rolling closer to Greg and placing a reassuring hand atop his, mimicking the position she was in with Nick a few moments ago. "It isn't just about the statistics a lot of the time, because often an HIV positive person has emotional barriers when it comes to sex as well."
Greg nodded slightly but stared at his shoes, not wanting Nick to know just how correct Shelby was. There was a silence as Nick grasped what he perhaps hadn't understood before.
"So what do you do about that part of it?" Greg asked smally.
Shelby squeezed his hand. "You talk about it, sometimes constantly, until finally it starts to feel less scary. And you pick a man like this stud over here," She motioned to Nick, "Who's willing to go through all that crap with you."
Greg looked up at her and smiled. She made it sound so simple, but perhaps it was.
"And when you're done going through all that, and you're both ready, you use condoms. Always. No matter what you're doing. And Greg, you keep up with your CD4s and viral loads to make sure you're healthy like you always do, and Nick, you voice any concerns you have as they come to you. Communication is your most important form of protection. And yes, I know how corny that sounds."
She warranted laughs from both Greg and Nick before Nick reached onto Greg's lap and clasped his hand the way Shelby had been. Greg felt a warming at the increasingly familiar touch. He had questions still – for Shelby, for Nick, for himself – but it was suddenly all looking so…positive.