Down Time
Who: Micah and Nic Where: Nic’s house When: Late morning
Micah wasn’t supposed to be home. He’d been at work for days on end and when things finally calmed down he was sent home, and while he fought it, he was exhausted. He felt terrible about leaving, but things had calmed down. Everyone who was still there was stable. There was nothing more he could do and they’d call him if he needed them. He stopped by his house, grabbing clean clothes, but there was nothing else he wanted there, which meant he turned towards Nic’s house and found himself there, knocking and letting himself inside. “Nic?”
Though Nic was home, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. The last few days had taken a toll on him, having to tend to people he knew and, worse, helping clean up their remains. It was fortunate that those he was closer to had lived, but that didn’t make the crime scenes any less gruesome. So many people dead for no reason, and others with new wounds to tend to. It left him feeling haunted, meaningless deaths playing through his mind. He was startled when Micah called out to him. “Back here!” he answered, pulling on a clean shirt. So far, a shower was all he had managed since returning home.
Micah headed that way, getting to the bedroom and leaning in the doorway so he could watch Nic. He'd never been so relieved to see his boyfriend. He knew Nic was fine, but Micah had seen plenty over the past few days. Young girls stabbed and carved up, the local handyman carved up as well. There were a few girls as well that had all been put close to death more than once. Seeing a healthy Nic was a sight to see. "Hey babe."
“Hey,” Nic said, giving Micah a small smile as he went to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. He knew Micah had been at the hospital, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d been safe. It didn’t feel like anyone was, no matter where they were, and it made him a touch paranoid. “Are you staying or just dropping by?” he asked, not wanting to get his hopes up if Micah was on his way back to the hospital.
Micah slipped his hand along the back of Nic’s neck, pressing his lips against Nic’s forehead. “They threw me out. I’m yours for as long as you want.” There was something stupidly reassuring about Nic’s scent, real and full of life, not tinged with antiseptic or blood like the hospital.
“Thank God,” Nic muttered. He knew how hard it was for Micah to leave. It was good that the hospital occasionally recognized that he needed to leave, even if he didn’t want to. Nic needed him there, at least for right now. “I was just about to make some food,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “How’re people holding up up there?”
“Thank God?” Micah asked, but he kissed Nic anyway. “People are scared and relieved and upset. Same as after any crisis.” He tangled his fingers in Nic’s hair. “Food sounds good. Then take me to bed. I could use some forgetting.”
“You’re here for as long as I want,” Nic grinned. That could be dangerous, as Nic might never let him leave, even if that wasn’t really what his comment had been directed towards. “Me too,” he said, releasing Micah enough to lead him towards the kitchen. “I’m really hoping to take it easy the next few days. Maybe do something completely not related to work, if that’s possible.”
Micah was hesitant about agreeing to doing non-work related things, but he’d been going straight for a week. He needed a break. There was a need to balance the two, and if all else failed, they would call him if they needed him. “Alright. What did you have in mind?” he asked after they reached the kitchen, going to the fridge to find something to drink.
“I don’t know. Take you for a ride on my bike, maybe? See if the lake’s not too cold and go swimming?” Nic suggested with a laugh. “Anything that doesn’t involve death would be nice.” This would be the kind of time where he’d want a vacation, if that were possible. Being stuck in Delphi made that a little less likely, but so long as there wasn’t a crisis they could still take some time off.
Micah nodded, grabbing a jug of juice and getting himself a glass. “Sounds fair provided you add in ravage me until we can’t walk?” he suggested, feeling his cheeks warm at the suggestion alone considering it was so forward. Sometimes the wolf got ahead of the man. “I like that though, all of that.”
A smirk tugged at Nic’s lips at the suggestion, something he’d been thinking, but hadn’t put words to. “I don’t know. You may be too exhausted from work,” he said with a little shrug, unable to keep from teasing Micah a little.
Micah felt a little ridiculous, confident in his new werewolfism, but still nervous around Nic sometimes, worried if the tease would go too far, or if it was a tease at all. “I’m never too exhausted for you.”
“Yeah?” Nic asked with a little chuckle before moving over to Micah and kissing him soundly. “I can’t imagine a better plan.” Even if they didn’t leave the house, Nic was sure he’d be happy if Micah was there. “Though I’d suggest we do the bike riding before the ravaging until we can’t walk part.”
“Yeah. Have you seen you?” Micah tangled his hand in Nic’s hair to kiss him again, harder this time. “Glad you like the plan. Though you are probably right. Bike might be less fun if we do it afterward.” He felt more relaxed that Nic wanted to go along with it, that he liked the same idea. That helped.
The complement earned a blush, though Nic doubted Micah saw it while he was kissing him. It was the kind of kiss that made him want to forget about dinner and just climb into bed with Micah. “You ever ridden a motorcycle?” he asked once he found his footing again.
Micah shook his head. “No. Seen the results of motorcycle accidents, but no, haven’t been on one yet. Dated more the convertible type of men before.”
“Yeah, I’ve picked those up, too. Try to put them out of your mind or you won’t enjoy the ride,” Nic smiled. “Besides, most motorcycle accidents are due to collisions with cars on the road. Since we’re short on cars, we should be safer.” That was just in theory, which was why they’d still be wearing helmets. “So I’m not your usual type?”
“That’s reassuring I suppose,” Micah said with a soft chuckle. At the question he shrugged a little. “I suppose not. You were available for starters. And I guess...more lively or something like that. More daring.”
“Available?” Nic asked. “I know the last guy was married, but they all couldn’t have been.” He really had no idea how many relationships Micah had been in, but in his head there had definitely been more than one. “I never really thought of myself as a daredevil, but I guess being a fireman lends itself to that. I really liked riding the ambulance, honestly. I liked helping people.”
“They weren’t all married, but there was always something to keep it from going very far,” Micah said with a shrug. There weren’t that many relationships, and just a few more involvements, but that was about it. “I think being a daredevil is required for being a fireman,” he said. “You have to like helping people and not be afraid to risk your life to do it.”
Nic wondered why that was, that Micah would go after men who couldn’t be committed for some reason. It was almost as if he’d shied away from commitment, but Nic knew that wasn’t the case. If Micah had a problem with commitment, then he wasn’t seeing it now. “Somebody’s got to do it, and it’s a better adrenaline rush than some things,” Nic said as he started fixing dinner. Something simple tonight, like sandwiches. “Did you always want to be a doctor?”
Micah’s issue wasn’t avoiding commitment, it was not having time for it. It was easier to find someone who didn’t mind that he worked long hours because it wasn’t serious. “Definitely better than most things,” he said, smiling at Nic went to work on food, doing his best to stay close and out of the way. “Kind of yeah. I wanted to help people. I’m smart. I’m not freaked out by blood or guts so the whole thing came together.”
“I’m trying to picture you in college,” Nic smiled, looking up as he got out the bread, then the fixings. “Not a party boy. You couldn’t really be if you were going to med school after. But I could see you having a string of female lab partners if they didn’t know any better.” He wondered how old Micah was when he’d come out, how comfortable he was with it. Nic still wasn’t sure he was comfortable with himself, but he knew everyone was different.
Micah laughed a little and nodded. “That was some of it. I looked the same. The circles under my eyes weren’t as dark,” he said with a grin. “A few of them picked me in the beginning for that I guess, but a lot of them stuck around because I actually did good work.”
“I would’ve picked you for it,” Nic said with a little laugh. Not that Micah would have gotten anywhere with him, not without a lot of work. He knew Micah had to put up with a lot now, but it was nothing compared to the way Nic was back then. “Did you have a specialty? I know now you kind of do a little bit of everything, but usually doctors work in the OR, the ER, neuro, whatever.”
“You would? Would I have gotten anywhere with you?” Micah had a guess that college Nic was a little more reserved about his different tastes, but maybe Micah was wrong about that. “I hadn’t picked one yet. Actually I was still an intern when we barricaded ourselves inside the hospital. Still had a few years left of training left.”
“I don’t know,” Nic grinned. “It depends on how hard you’d ‘ve pushed my buttons.” He’d started hooking up with Dixen while they were still in college, but it hadn’t started like that. They’d been friends, but they’d fought, and their fighting had more sexual chemistry than anything else. It wasn’t a healthy relationship, Nic knew that, but it had been his first with another man. “Sounds like me on the ambulance. I’m not actually a certified paramedic, but I’ve learned enough to count.”
Micah smiled. “Probably not too hard. Would have thought you were out of my league and straight.” He shrugged a little. “I’m glad I was wrong.” Despite the new instincts, Micah really did enjoy being with Nic. It was a nice change to his current status, a nice turn around on being lonely and working too hard to forget that he might be lonely. “I had another doctor actually turn to me at one point and inform me that either I started acting like a doctor or I get out. Obviously I stepped up.”
“I had a girlfriend. You’d have been taking a risk,” Nic agreed, though he was glad Micah was wrong too. He wasn’t straight, not completely, and he supposed that anything besides being completely straight was not at all. “Seriously? You’re always so in control in the hospital. I can’t really imagine you being any different there,” he said, handing over a sandwich to Micah.
“Wouldn’t be the first,” Micah said with a smirk, though in college, the few dates had been gay and out, not like some of the men he dated later in his life. “I learned quickly. And I learned it every waking hour. I guess now I’m comfortable there.”
“That’s good. I think people need to be comfortable in their jobs. Yeah, they’re going to be stressful, but the idea of doing the job itself shouldn’t be the stressful part,” Nic said. It was surprising since his was walking into burning houses or picking up shooting victims, but he was comfortable with both. “Any idea what you might’ve done if you weren’t a doctor?”
Micah nodded. “It’s terrifying though, knowing you’re holding someone’s life in your hands.” Literally in some cases. “Sleep?” he offered as an answer to the question before laughing. “I don’t know. There wasn’t much else I wanted. You?”
“Yeah, but it’s also so rewarding when you manage to save their lives,” Nic pointed out after another bite of his sandwich. Micah’s answer earned a little chuckle before he answered the question himself. “I was good at the sciences, so if I’d stayed there, maybe something in research? It all comes back to the medical field, but if it was completely outside of that I’d have been a chef. I always liked cooking.” Which was hard to tell when he’d made them the most boring sandwiches ever.
“Of course. Doesn’t always happen though.” Micah had lost a lot of people over the years and there were so many, the ones who’d been bitten, but hadn’t turned yet. Even those who had just died, that weighed on him too. He carried that with him on a daily basis even if he didn’t mention it much. “I can see you as a cook. I know I don’t complain about your cooking.”
“But you always try your best. That’s what matters.” Nic knew they couldn’t save everyone, no matter how much he wanted to. Losing a patient was the hardest of all. “My parents ran a restaurant. I spent a lot of time around the kitchen, waiting tables and such. I know the business, but I would’ve wanted to go to school for it and really learn how to cook. If I’d gone that route, I mean.”
Micah somewhat doubted it, but he just made an agreeing noise and nodded. He did his best, but sometimes it wasn’t good enough and every time it wasn’t, Micah wondered if he could have done something differently. “Really learn? Like the complicated things? Would you have wanted to work at your parent’s place or have your own?”
“Yeah, really learn, though working at my parent’s place… that would’ve been something different,” Nic said, finishing off the last bit of his sandwich. He hadn’t told Micah much about his upbringing because he often thought it didn’t matter, but sometimes it did. It still made him who he was, even if it was in a past that was so far gone it was only in memories. “My family had a back room for private parties, which was where most of the gambling took place, or meetings of a less savory stort. My uncle, Zan’s dad, sold drugs at his club and the two things kind of went together. I think, if I could’ve been a chef, I’d want my own restaurant. And I’d want it to be clean.”
Micah raised his eyebrow at that. He guessed anyone could be involved with illegal things, having seen his own fair share of junkies before and after the zombies, but he wouldn’t have guessed as much with Nic. “No one would have expected you to take over for your father?” he asked as casually as he could. Nic said he wanted his own place to be clean, which was a good in Micah’s book, it meant he wasn’t looking to start that up again, but there was still an issue of Nic’s morality being a little skewed. Micah wasn’t really one to judge, but he could see future issues if they disagreed on what was “right”.
“If I’d gone that route, maybe,” Nic answered. “I was the baby, remember? It was more likely that Damon or Sebastian would’ve taken over.” His oldest brother had been the responsible one and far more likely to fill those shoes than he ever would have been. “But who knows. The chef doesn’t always run the restaurant. My father definitely wasn’t the one in the kitchen, even though he could cook.” He was usually out on the floor, smoozing up the customers, or making deals in the back room. Nic was good with people, but that kind of work didn’t interest him.
Micah nodded. “That’s right. Well maybe it’s for the best it didn’t work out that way then,” he said shrugging. “At least it means I get you.” Which despite all the bad things that had happened, he was glad that he’d wound up where he was right this second, able to reached out like he did and hook his fingers around Nic’s hip to guide him closer.
“That makes it a good thing,” Nic said with a little smirk. He didn’t think the zombie apocalypse was a good thing, but he was happy where he was now, with Micah, doing what he did. It was better to be helping people that cooking for them, at least now, and maybe even back then. Cooking for people could be a hobby. “And, as a plus, you get me as your personal chef,” he teased.