17 days ago
Nick turned up on Monroe's doorstep just after midnight looking exhausted, he was shaking, distressed and covered in blood. Silently Monroe stood aside to let him enter, then steered him to the sofa before the younger man collapsed. Nick buried his head in his hands and after a long period of silence, Monroe placed a gentle hand on his back and said softly, "tell me."
Nick sighed, "The Crace kidnapping case is over."
Monroe had read about this; 5 year old Kimberly Crace, snatched from her home by her survivalist uncle, missing for two weeks. "Well," he said cautiously, "that's good isn't it?"
"He cut her throat, Monroe. He cut her throat and threw her body into my arms before Hank shot him...and now I can't stop hearing her scream." he raised his eyes and looked into Monroe's face, "I can't stop hearing her scream and I can't seem to stop shaking." He shivered, " I don't think I will ever be warm again."
All of Nick's attention seemed to be focused on his memories so, moving slowly because the Grimm looked as if he might be easily spooked, Monroe slid to the floor and knelt in front of his friend. He reached out and cradled Nick's face in his large hands, gently stroking his cheek bones which seemed more prominent than usual. Monroe also noted the dark purplish smudges around Nick's eyes. "Jeez man, when did you last sleep?"
Nick looked confused, "um... I...um, Sunday I think."
"Dude, you haven't slept in four days?"
"Um…"
"When did you last eat?"
"I had breakfast…"
"When?"
"Er...Monday, I think."
Monroe got to his feet. "Come with me." He led Nick to his spare bedroom and gestured to a long bath robe on the bed. "Get undressed and put that on," he said, "I'll be back in a minute."
Shakily, Nick sat on the edge of the bed but minutes later when Monroe reappeared he had made no effort to remove his clothes. Trying hard to hide his concern Monroe gently helped him to undress then took him by the arm. In the bathroom the shower was running, "get under there and get that blood off of you," instructed Monroe, "then call me. I've run you a bath and used some of Rosalee's special bath oil blend which will help to relax you."
Nick tried to do as he was told but the effort required to actually get under the water was beyond him. Swiftly Monroe stripped down to his underwear, pulled a plastic stool into the shower and guided Nick to sit down. His Grimm sat docilely as Monroe rinsed the blood and grime off of his body and washed the sweat and blood out of his hair. Monroe concentrated on watching his hands moving over Nick's body, trying hard to keep his touch clinical and impersonal whilst ignoring the fact that touching Nick like this had been a desire of his for a while, albeit under better circumstances. When Nick's scent was closer to normal, Monroe turned off the water.
"Bath time," he told Nick. Without waiting for a reply, he scooped the exhausted Grimm into his arms and carried him through to where a fragrant bath was steaming. Monroe was struggling to keep himself calm. His attraction to Nick had kicked in the moment they had met and had been growing with every encounter they had. Everything about the young detective from his intense grey eyes to his endearingly floppy hair and his enticing smell pushed all of Monroe's buttons in a big way. At first, Monroe had put his growing infatuation down to loneliness but realised that it wasn't company he craved, it was just Nick. Before tonight, the thought of cradling a naked Nick against his own, equally naked, chest would have been a fantasy come true but Monroe was not just an honourable man, he was a sensible blutbad and Nick was still a Grimm even if he was a vulnerable and damaged one. He still smelt delicious though and Monroe was having a real struggle to control his baser self, to say nothing of an insistent erection.
Carefully Monroe lowered his precious burden into the water. Nick didn't seem to want to let him go and it took some doing to disentangle Nick's arms from around his neck. At first Nick sat huddled in the bath as Monroe gently washed his hair once more, focussing on separating the soft strands and massaging his scalp until, with a tiny, grateful sigh, Nick uncurled and lay back in the warm scented water. Carefully slipping a soft towel under his head, Monroe stood up and watched as NIck's eyes slowly drifted shut. The oils in the bath water gave Nick's skin a soft golden glow and Monore couldn't help staring. He is so beautiful, he thought to himself, his eyes wandered down to where Nick's cock floated against his thigh, slimmer than his own but slightly longer, he is so perfect, and then with an immense sense of shock, I love him.
Shaken at this realisation and afraid for the inevitable rejection because why would his straight, in-a-relationship friend even consider wanting him or loving him back like that, Monroe froze, drinking in the sight of Nick. With his head tilted back to rest on the edge of the bath the white skin of Nick's throat looked particularly enticing. Just there, thought Monroe, just at the junction of neck and shoulder, that place is crying out for a mate mark.
Desperately trying to pull himself together, Monroe stepped back from the bath, then paused. A tiny tear was forcing its way from under Nick's eyelids. Monroe gently wiped it away with his finger.
"Nick?"
"She is still screaming, Monroe. She's in my head."
"Ok. Stay with me, dude. I'll be back in a second."
Monroe swiftly left the bathroom, in the hallway he paused for a moment then he ran to his spare room and slipped on the long towelling robe he had laid out for Nick earlier, he then collected his cello from its case by his bed. Dragging a chair from the hallway, he settled himself in the doorway of the bathroom. "Nick?" His friend turned towards the sound of his voice, "Nick, I want you to focus on my voice and my music. Listen to it, soak it in, Ok?"
Without waiting for a reply, Monroe took a deep steadying breath and began to play the Bach Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major in an effort to fill Nick's ears with something beautiful to replace the horror. Eventually, his enhanced hearing picked up the slowing and steadiing of NIck's previously panicked breathing and the quiet rippling of the bath water which told him that his Grimm was falling asleep. Monroe laid aside his cello and went back into the bathroom, he laid a gentle hand on Nick's shoulder.
"Ok, man. Time for you to sleep"
.
"Huh?" Nick looked up at Monroe with sleepy, trusting eyes and Monroe thought his heart might break at how much this man meant to him.
Monroe held out a large warm fuzzy bath towel, "C'mon, bed time."
Once he had got Nick dried and dressed in an old pair of flannel pyjama pants he helped him into bed. Monroe was pleased to note that the dreadful tension that had been vibrating thorough the younger man's body seemed to have abated.
"Sleep," he said softly, placing a hand on Nick's brow. As he turned away, Nick grabbed hold of his wrist.
"Stay. Please."
"Nick…I'm not sure that's a good idea." Nick looked, pleadingly, into Monroe's face, gods how could he resist those grey eyes?
"Monroe, please. I don't wanna be alone."
What else could Monroe do? Rolling his eyes at the iniquities of the universe, he settled down on top of the covers next to Nick. I can do this, he thought, just be here for my friend and don't think about touching him, or smelling him or tasting him. He groaned, this was a special kind of torture. Monroe stared at the wall and tried to think unsexy thoughts.
Suddenly, Nick shifted, snuggling in to Monroe's side, throwing an arm over his belly, resting his head over Monroe's heart and placing a soft, sloppy kiss on his nipple. A happy smile appeared on Nick's face. "Now I have Bach and your heartbeat in my head," he said as he drifted off to sleep.
Monroe had really meant to stay awake, partly to watch over Nick as he slept and partly because he was afraid that if he woke up with Nick in his arms he would never want to let him go, but he eventually succumbed, slipping into sleep just as dawn was breaking.
He was woken up by somebody nuzzling his hair and kissing his neck. Somehow he had ended up under the duvet with a clearly still asleep Nick sprawled on top of him. Monroe tried to keep his breathing light and regular, he wasn't entirely certain how Nick would react to waking up on top of a naked man but he was willing to bet that it wouldn't end too well.
"Umm...Nick," He began as he tried to slide towards the edge of the bed. Bad move he told himself as his change in position made it easier for Nick to begin rutting against his thigh. Whyyy moaned Monroe silently, I'm a nice guy, why is the universe doing this to me?
At that point Nick said the one thing guaranteed to not only kill Monroe's erection but to facilitate his very swift exit from the bed.
"Oh, yeah," he moaned, "you are my favourite secret sex toy."
When Nick finally made it downstairs it was closer to lunchtime than breakfast. For a while, upon waking, he lay in bed trying to remember what had happened the previous night. He remembered sitting in his car, covered in Kimberley Crace's blood with an overwhelming need for comfort. He had driven to Monroe's house on auto-pilot but events after that seemed lost in a fog and only now did it occur to him to wonder why his first need had been for Monroe and not Juliette.
He paused in the doorway of the kitchen. Monroe had his back to the door viciously chopping vegetables and throwing them into a large saucepan in which something aromatic was simmering. Nick opened his mouth to say good morning, when Monroe's monologue filtered into his consciousness.
"Stupid, stupid. He comes here...why did he come here? He has a partner, looking after him is her job, not mine. Good old Monroe, never sends him away, always there, well, no more. I am no-ones secret sex toy."
Nick frowned, Monroe wasn't making sense, gods, what had he done to distress his friend so much? He winced as the blutbad threw a handful of herbs into the pot, releasing a cloud of fragrant steam. The smell reminded Nick how hungry he was.
"Something smells good."
Monroe indicated a packet on the table. "I made you sandwiches," he said, tersely. "I thought you might be in a hurry to get back to Juliette."
"Oh..ok." Nick frowned, "is everything alright?"
Monroe wouldn't look at him, "fine."
Nick tried again, "thanks for looking after me last night." Monroe shrugged and stirred his soup vigorously. Nick shifted uncomfortably. "It's been a tough few days, I've lost count of the times you've put me back together but last night you went above and beyond." He placed a tentative hand on Monroe's back. To his surprise, Monroe flinched, shook him off and moved away. Nick was starting to get concerned about his friend, he decided to change the topic a bit. He tugged at his sweater, "I was a real mess huh?" He gave a small laugh, "lucky I've got so much stuff here…"
"Yeah, about that." Monroe gestured to a large rucksack resting by the door, "I packed your stuff up for you."
"Oh! Erm..why?"
Monroe slammed his spoon down. "When's my birthday?"
Nick blinked at the sudden change of topic, "Umm…"
"Who is my favourite cellist? Am I a cat person or a dog person? What's my favourite colour?"
Nick knew that one, "red." He had no idea what was going on,"Monroe, have I upset you in some way because you are the last person I would ever want to hurt." He paused when he realised how true his words were, "you're my best friend."
"No, that would be Juliette," said Monroe, facing Nick for the first time. "It should be her, Nick. She is the one you should have gone to last night, not me." He gave a strange little whimper, "I don't know why you did come here, or why you are still here. I think you should be on your way back to her now, to be honest."
Nick was stunned, "Monroe!"
Monroe had turned back to the stove, "goodbye, Nick."
