Disclaimer: I don't own and no maliciousness is intended.
Summary: Sleep deprivation makes you do all sorts of things you'd never consider doing otherwise. Nick finds this out firsthand.
Warnings: Well, I'm not going to lie. This is a fairly weird story, as far as POV and thoughts go... Possible incoherency at times.
Response to: Telephone Challenge at ngchallenge
Unbeta'd, as almost all of my work is.
I never thought… I mean, it’s Greg! Greg, of all people, and, well, it's not like you've never thought about it before, but...
He’s talking; there’s nothing wrong with talking is there, Nicky? No, sir! Just talking.
Right, keep telling yourself that. He’s just talking. Damn… nobody has the right to look like that while they’re talking on their cell phone. Nobody, not even him. It’s as if he’s… He has to know what he looks like when he smiles like that, doesn't he? Oh, god, that tongue! And it's running over those lips… he’s perfect. Does he look like that when he’s talking with me on the phone? I hope so… God, he’s so perfect, and you’re a fucking nothing compared to him, Stokes. Nothing! Just some white trash faggot from Texas!
No, no, calm down. Breathe. Don’t think about him. Don’t let it show, remember? Never let it show. Never let anybody know. He can’t know; nobody can! Don’t you get it? You can be normal; just forget about this. Forget about him. Forget, Goddammit!
You’ve had every chance in the world to be normal. Remember? You could do it; all you have to do is go somewhere, anywhere... pick up a girl. Go to the Highball, find some nice blonde girl, forget about Greg, and just be normal! Blonde, always blonde because she was a brunette, remember? Of course you remember!
No! No, no, no! I don’t want… I mean, I want Greg. He’s beautiful and he’s perfect and he’s here, god, he’s here and maybe, just maybe…
You’re a disgrace!
“Nick, are you okay? You’re shaking.”
Nononononoooo! Don’t look at me like that! Just go back to your damn conversation with your little friend and leave me the fuck alone!
Oh God, now he’s going to know something’s wrong. Shit, Stokes! Could you have let your voice sound any worse? And now, you’ve upset him, obviously; he’s hanging up on what was probably a half-way decent conversation with someone who can at least pretend to be normal so that he can deal with your problems. Way to go…
“How long has it been since you’ve slept?”
“Worked the past two shifts. I think… or was it the past three?”
What’s the point in lying?
“Look, Nick, maybe you should-”
And that’s all it takes, isn’t it? A few concerned words from a friend and you jump him? Fucking pathetic, Nick!
And… oh, shit. Wasn’t expecting that, wasn’t expecting him to reciprocate… Oh, man, he can kiss. God…
Okay, air. Air is a priority, remember? Living organism, air; logical, isn’t it?
“Nick, what’s wrong?”
And yes, something must be wrong because you’re still shaking, only this time it’s with love and lust and god only knows what else, and shit, he’s too perfect for you…
“I… you… you have the most perfect lips.” And wow, just to top off your idiocy, why don’t you just go ahead and say something like that again?
His smile… he has a beautiful smile.
“Why don’t I give you a ride home and we can talk later, okay? Right now, I think you need some sleep.”
Sleep? Yeah, sleep sounds good, and maybe this was for the best ’cause you can’t deny it now, can you? Won’t be able to deny it later, and that’s good. Right? And maybe, just maybe, he won’t care that you’re not normal…