Title: Abundance
By: geekwriter
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R
Summary: Greg takes up a lot of space.

Nick held his tension in every muscle, but Greg moved easy. His joints were loose and his muscles long and supple, and he could move into any position that occurred to him. When he relaxed, he relaxed completely, flopped back on the bed or a chair like he was boneless, and when Nick touched him, it was like he just surrendered.

Nick was all rigid tension and perfect posture. Greg slumped and slouched and sprawled. When they watched TV Nick's back was pressed against the back of the sofa, his feet flat on the floor. Greg sat sideways and stretched his legs out across Nick's lap. Sometimes he sat on one of the arms with one foot brushing the floor, the other foot on the sofa cushion, his knee pulled up close to his body. Sometimes, when he was bored, he twisted around and flung his legs over the back of the couch and let his head dangle off the front. He said baseball was much more interesting upside down. Nick suspected he just liked the head rush he got when he finally stood up.

Greg took up more than half of the bed. He fell asleep on his stomach with his legs spread and arms thrown wide. Nick slept on his side, facing Greg, and he rarely moved during the night. Every morning Nick awoke just inches from the side of the bed with Greg wrapped tightly around him, as if they shared a twin bed instead of a king.

Greg's body wasn't the only thing that took up space. Before they moved in together the drawer Nick had given him had quickly turned into two drawers, then two drawers and part of the closet, then two drawers, half the closet, and a significant portion of floor space. Greg had a lot of shoes.

Nick used the same shampoo he'd used since college, the same soap, even the same brand of shaving cream. He only bought more when he was close to running out, except of course if it was on sale-then he bought two and placed the extra one neatly in the cupboard beneath his sink.

Greg had three or four different brands of shampoo and conditioner in the shower at any one time. He used body wash, not bar soap, and for the life of him Nick couldn't figure out the logic Greg used when deciding which of several different kinds to use every day. Sometimes he even used Nick's bar soap, depending on his mood.

He had fifteen different types of hair gunk, gels and mousse and sprays. He never finished a tube of toothpaste before he decided he wanted a new flavor or a different brand.

Nick liked to eat his dinner in front of the TV while watching the game or in front of the computer while checking his email. Then he went through his mail, paid any bills that came, took a shower, and sat down to read. Sometimes he wrote a letter to his grandmother. Sometimes he had a beer. Then he went to bed and read until he fell asleep. Any night he could get a full eight hours of sleep was his idea of paradise.

Greg liked to go out to eat, the more exotic the better. He drug Nick to all the new clubs that opened where he insisted that they dance and drink and socialize. Greg had a lot of friends, and when they went to a party, Greg went to a party. And when Greg went to a party, Nick came, too. He didn't get very much sleep, but he laughed more than he had in years.

Nick spent his days off getting things done. He puttered around the house, replacing old screens and touching up paint. He took his car in for an oil change. He mowed the lawn. He swept the front porch, washed the windows, shopped for groceries.

Greg liked to spend his days off in bed. He read magazines and forensic journals, ate cookies, daydreamed while gazing at the ceiling. When he and Nick had the same day off he wanted Nick to stay in bed, too. Once he'd bound Nick's wrists to the headboard and spent four hours doing nothing but kissing every inch of Nick's skin, until Nick was panting and covered in sweat and he came without Greg even touching him, while Greg was just nuzzling the inside of his elbow.

When Nick was finished reading a magazine he put it in the recycling bin. Greg never finished reading his magazines. He always had pages folded down and Post-Its stuck between the pages to mark articles he wanted to reread eventually. When Nick was finished with a bottle of water or a box of crackers he got up to put it away. Greg put his trash on the coffee table or nightstand or the floor of Nick's truck and almost always forgot about it when he finally did get up to do something else.

After a call, Nick stopped at a gas station to refuel and while he was pumping the gas Warrick got out of the passenger side with a half-eaten bag of chips in one hand and a candy bar wrapper in the other. He gave Nick a pointed look as he threw them away. Then he turned back towards the truck and pulled a half full bottle of Mountain Dew from beneath the seat, then another, then another. Two empty coffee cups, an empty gummi bear wrapper, the latest issue of Car and Driver. "When's the last time you cleaned out your car?"

"A few days ago," Nick said.

Warrick looked at him, unconvinced.

"It's Greg's," Nick told him, as if that explained it all. And he supposed it did.

Warrick chuckled as he tossed the garbage away. "I don't know how you do it, man. Rooming with Sanders would drive me nuts."

Nick just shrugged and smiled. "I like it," he said, and he did. He liked how much space Greg took up, the way his body and his possessions and his life crowded Nick's, the way that Greg made him remember that his life, which had been so empty before, was finally, finally full.