[Fargo] says: Be one with the slash... (snapes_gurl) wrote in spanishsnark,
[Fargo] says: Be one with the slash...
snapes_gurl
spanishsnark

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Lime, yo.

Okay, so I don't have to work as early as I thought. XD

This is really a continuation to my Temperature fic, as I kinda didn't explain WHY Nick was wandering through the lab with no shirt. Sure it's hot (in more ways than one) but it's not very professional.

So, here we go.

And it's extra long to make up for the time lapse! I hope it's not too OOC. XD

"Hey, Hodges, you okay?" Nick asked, in his rich southern drawl.

David had to force him self to blink. "Um, yeah." he had an even harder time looking away. "Fine. Why do you ask?"

"Because you're staring at me."

David gulped. "You don't have a shirt on."

Nick smirked, stepping closer to the other man. "No - I don't."

David shuddered, despite the heat. "Why in hell hell are you at work with out a shirt, any way?" he felt that if he didn't say some thing, he'd end up doing some thing to Nick he'd regret.

"Because you're here."

Like pounce on him.

Nick laughed at the expression on David's face. "Relax, man. I'm only kidding." he said heartily, clapping a hand on David's shoulder. "I was having lunch, and Greg bumped into me, making me spill my drink all over my self."

"Graceful." He wasn't sure if he was referring to Nick or Greg.

"I still smell like lime Sprite."

David quickly looked away from the Texan. He wasn't about to let his mind betray him into telling the other man that he smelled nothing like Lime, and every thing like sex.

"So why don't you go put on an extra shirt?" David asked, using every ounce off will power he had to make his voice sound bored and sarcastic.

Nick sighed. "Don't have one. I did, but Warrick borrowed it earlier."

"Gotcha." David replied simply, not looking at Nick.

"I was hoping you'd have some thing I could wear?"

David cleared his throat to keep his voice from straining. "Um, yeah. I might. It would be in my locker. I'll tell you what Stokes, if you leave me the hell alone so I can clean up, I'll let you borrow a shirt."

Nick smirked. "Great. I'll meet you in the locker room?"

David nodded as Nick left, turning his attention to sterilizing his equipment, and sanitizing his work station.

He was nervous. It was obvious that Nick knew something was off. Hodges had been less than his witty self. David had worked hard to keep his emotions under control. Now, if Nick had any inclination as to what he really felt for him, then...

David sighed as he contemplated downing some arsnic.

He didn't know what he was going to do.

---

David entered the locker room cautiously. Moving quickly to his locker, he pun the lock around until it popped open, and hurriedly pulled his extra shirt out of his bag.

It was nothing special. Nothing he would miss. Just a plain back shirt with Eric Clapton written on the front and some tour dates on the back. It was old, and well worn, but David hadn't been shopping in a while, so that could be said about a lot of his shirts.

"Oh, here you are." Said a husky voice behind David. He jumped.

"Damn it Stokes!" he cursed, whipping around. "Don't do that to --!" he stopped.

Nick smiled. His head cocked slightly to the side, his brown eyes staring into David's blue ones.

"Is that the shirt?" asked Nick, holding out his hand to receive the article in question.

"Um." Hodges cleared his throat again. "Yeah. Sorry. Here." He handed it over, adverting his eyes from the wet, towel-clad man before him.

Nick took the shirt, dropping it on the bench behind him. "Dave."

David's head snapped towards him again. "What did you just call me?"

"Dave." Nick answered, backing Hodges up against his locker. "Why? Do you not want me to?"

"What makes you think I even care, Stokes?"

"You mean apart from the fact that you whimpered when I said it?"

"I did not!"

Suddenly, lips crashed down on his, and he gasped. Nick brought his hand around David's waist, and kissed him deeper.

"What the hell was that for?"David asked, as Nick pulled back.

"Do I still taste like lime?" He asked.

This time David let his mind betray him "You taste like sex."

Nick smirked, and David felt like wiping it off his face. (or smacking it- or kissing it. Which ever came first)

"You wanna go get some drinks after work?"

"How about some lime margaritas?" David suggested, as Nick turned to get changed, a smile on his face.

 

Your word will be... music.

Tags: fic
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