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Nick grabs his hastily packed duffel from the seat next to him and gets out of his truck and walks up the steps to Monroe's house. He sighs, taking a
moment to collect his thoughts, then reaches out with his free hand and knocks. It takes Monroe a few seconds before he opens the door, expression on his
face showing he's not surprised it's Nick, until he glances down at the bag.
"Uhh, Nick?" Monroe questions as Nick walks into the house and sets the large duffle bag down next to the couch. "You movin' in, buddy?"
Nick rubs his face in an effort to dislodge his frustration. "No," he says, and then points to the stairs. "But you think you could put me up? Just for the
night."
"Dude... You know you can stay here for as long as you want."
"Can't," is all Nick says. At Monroe's questioning look, he adds, "Look, I know I'm still pretty new to this Grimm thing, but I know enough about Blutbaden
and territorial issues." At Monroe's upturned eyebrow, he adds, "And I know that just me being here can put you in danger to other Wesen."
"Territorial issues?" Monroe balks, though Nick barks out a laugh at Monroe's response.
Before the Blutbad can continue, Nick glowers at him, eyes squinting. "Do you, or do you not, still mark your territory by peeing on your back
fence?"
When Monroe again raises an eyebrow, Nick takes as victory. "Point and match," he says, safely ignoring Monroe's mutter of "Moron," as he goes to the
couch.
Considering it a moment, Monroe shrugs, then disappears into the kitchen, returning a few seconds later with a beer. He sits down on the sofa and hands
over the cold bottle. Taking a sip, he nods to Nick, who uncaps his bottle and takes a long draw, then puts the beer down on the coffee table.
"Dude, coaster!" Monroe admonishes Nick, then leans over and grabs one, placing it under Nick's frosty bottle, condensation already dripping down
the sides. After the two share a companionable silence, Monroe finally asks, "You wanna talk about it?"
Nick takes his time responding, giving Monroe a look that's closer to a grimace than anything else. He leans over and grabs his bottle, taking another long
draw, swallowing down the cool brew, and finally rests his beer on his knee. He belts out a burp, then sighs, Monroe rolling his eyes at the man. "Not even
a little bit," he finally says, holding out his beer.
Monroe clinks Nick's bottle. "Cheers," he offers, then both men take another sip. They settle back on the couch, Nick focusing on the rugby match Monroe
was watching, ignoring Monroe's dozen or so furtive glances.
After twenty minutes of nothing but the sound of the match, Nick finally speaks. "I left."
"Left left?" Monroe asks.
Avoiding the question for the moment, Nick gets up from the sofa. "Want another beer?" he asks as he walks to the kitchen and opens the refrigerator door.
He leans in, finding the six-pack of Hamms that he'd brought over weeks before, which Monroe turned his nose up to when offered. It was good, cheap beer
that Nick had discovered while he was in the Academy, and he had acquired a taste for it, craving it every now and again. He pulls one of the cans and
grabs another bottle of microbrew for Monroe. Standing up, he isn't surprised to find the Blutbad behind him when he turns.
Monroe gives Nick a questioning look, then rolls his eyes when Nick opens the can of cheap beer. "I take it back. Take your piss-water beer and get out,"
he says, absolutely no heat to his tone.
In response, Nick makes a scene of taking a long draw from the can, letting out a, "Mmmm Mmmm!" type noise as he swallows it down.
"Philistine," Monroe grumbles as he reaches for the bottle Nick offers. "And you know you're gonna have to take that somewhere else for
recycling." At Nick's questioning look, he continues, "I'm not gonna have my neighbors think I'm some sort of hipster that drinks bad beer."
The two stand in the kitchen, drinking their beers, until Monroe finally asks. "So's it over? With Juliette, I mean?"
Nick stares at the kitchen floor for a few seconds, then looks at Monroe. "I was... Monroe, I was a freaking stranger in our own house. Plus, I
was relegated to the sofa."
"Sofa?" Monroe asks. "No wonder you've been complaining about your back the last few weeks. I didn't know you were sleeping on your sofa
!" He shakes his head. "Nick, man, you should have come over sooner."
Nick shakes his head. "Yeah, I know... I got tired of feeling like an overstayed, unwelcomed houseguest. In the freaking house that we picked out. Together." He takes another sip, then continues, "Anyway, I'm going to call her in the morning. If she wants the house, fine; we'll call the
rental company and take me off the lease. She can... Well, she can do whatever." he says, taking another sip of his beer. "But I'm done."
"Dude," Monroe says, then nods, gesturing as if to encompass the house around them. "As long as you want."
"Thanks," Nick manages then finishes his beer. He tosses the can in the recycling bin, ignoring Monroe's dissatisfied grunt, then heads back into the
living room to grab his duffel bag. "Wanna show me to my room, Monsieur?" he asks, with a twang to his voice, the French title sounding more like the word
'sewer' than anything recognizable in a foreign language.
Monroe just rolls his eyes and heads to the stairs. Walking up them, he tosses, "Just don't expect any chocolate on your pillow," over his shoulder.
"Next you're going to say there's no turndown service," Nick says, pushing the duffel bag forward and connecting with Monroe's corduroy-covered backside.
Nick follows Monroe up the stairs, stopping at the landing to glance into Monroe's room, brought out of his silent contemplation by Monroe's, "This is
you," from across the hall. Nick enters, dumping his bag on a sideboard against the wall, minding the two antique-looking clocks that sit nearby.
"Changed the sheets after," Monroe says, then adds, "You know. Haps."
Nick just bobs his head at the memory of Monroe's lost friend. "Thanks."
The two stand there for a brief moment before Monroe hikes his thumb over his shoulder. "I'm up at 5:30am - Pilates until 7. After that, shower and then
breakfast. When do you want me to get you up?"
Considering it, Nick finally says, "Guess after you shower, maybe? Hank and I don't usually start until around 9ish."
"Yeah, but don't forget; you've got to call Juliette," Monroe says.
Sighing, Nick says, "Yeah... Okay, then after Pilates, before shower." He's not happy to be reminded of the upcoming discussion he has to have, though in a
way, he's glad he's finally having it. Aunt Marie's voice echoes through his head, and he figures his Grimm activities have put a damper on his
relationship with Juliette. He hadn't really wanted to end it, but Juliette's amnesia really solidified the argument against trying to continue the one-way
connection.
"Okay, well... G'night," Monroe says, heading for the door.
With so much on his mind, Nick doubts he'll sleep, but he manages a, "'night, Monroe," before the door closes. With a sigh, he sits down on the bed and
takes off his boots, then takes off his shirt and pants and tosses them over his duffel before climbing under the sheets, hoping for slumber; a chance to
escape reality for at least a little while.
But sleep doesn't come, at least not easy. He tosses and turns for a while, finally letting the monotonous ticking of the clocks lull him to sleep around
3am.
~*~*~
Nick wakes up from a fitful sleep around 6:30am, and checks his phone for the latest news and email. Considering the hour and Monroe's schedule, he figures
he's got enough time to catch his shower before Monroe, so he walks out of his room and peers down the stairs, catching sight of Monroe in mid-pose of some
sort; he'll have to ask him about Pilates sometime since he knows virtually nothing about it. Nick is more of a runner - something he might be able to talk
Monroe into sometime. He pads into the bathroom and turns on the water, climbing under the spray as soon as it's warm enough. He doesn't take too long,
mindful of being a guest, and climbs out after one of the briefest of showers he's taken since leaving the Academy. He grabs a towel and runs it through
his hair, then ties it around his waist, looking on the counter where his clothes should have been - but he'd forgotten to get them before locking
himself in the bathroom. He opens the door, and comes face to face with Monroe. "Hey, sorry," he manages. "Thought you'd be down there longer."
He watches as Monroe's eyes just minutely glow red for the shortest of seconds as they travel down Nick's torso before being forced back up to lock on with
Nicks. And wow, that's something Nick needs to file away for future reference.
Raising an eyebrow, Monroe just gives a short growl and says, "You'd better not have used all the hot water, Grimm."
Pushing past Monroe, Nick takes a step towards his room, pulling the towel from his waist and turning one end into a rat-tail, snapping it at Monroe's
backside as soon as he has a chance. Monroe grunts out an, "Oww, idiot!" before turning towards Nick, Nick making quick work of slinking the towel
back over his hips (and there goes that red-eyed look again).
Monroe just rolls his eyes as he takes off his t-shirt, Nick averting his eyes at the muscular, furred chest of his overnight landlord, and ignoring Monroe
as he mutters another, "Idiot," before he disappears behind the bathroom door.
~*~*~
Nick easily settles the issue of the house with Juliette that afternoon over his lunch break. He'd dragged Hank along with him to the veterinarian office
where Juliette worked, Banfield's, with the promise of hitting up some of the new food carts over at Cartlandia on Southeast 82nd. The
conversation had gone amiably, with the agreement of them both terminating their lease; Nick would find something affordable, while Juliette had friends in
the Lents neighborhood that she could stay with, affording her closer proximity to her work. Hank stays relatively quiet until they get to Cartlandia; he
doesn't talk much about the breakup, besides offering his spare bedroom, which Nick declines.
After a mostly uneventful day at the Portland PD, Nick drives back to Monroe's. He doesn't bother knocking, just walks in - to the smell of something
that's between roasted nuts and a Thanksgiving turkey. "Monroe?" he calls.
"In here," comes the reply, so Nick follows the voice into the kitchen, where Monroe is fussing over something in a green bowl, a large cast iron Dutch
oven sitting next to it on the stove.
"What smells so good?" Nick asks, walking up and peering into the bowl, then taking the lid off of the Dutch oven, letting the steam and aroma waft over
him. "What is this?" he asks.
Monroe pulls the lid from the Dutch oven and replaces it. "Knock it off, or the quinoa will dry out." At Nick's fake-pout, he says, "You'll like it. Red
quinoa and a roasted tomato casserole."
Contemplating the dinner, Nick offers, "I was just gonna grab my bag and hit some fast food joint near one of the extended stay hotels at the airport."
"But I made dinner," Monroe offers, his voice clearly tinged with something that makes Nick reconsider leaving. "Plenty of it, too."
Shaking his head, Nick says, "Monroe, you know I can't-"
"Oh shut up and get some plates," Monroe replies. "You can find a hotel tomorrow night." Nick grabs some plates as Monroe adds, "Oh, and I found a great
bottle of Cabernet over at Enso, so get some wine glasses, too."
~*~*~
The pair spend the next few weeks doing the same dance; Nick readying to move out of Monroe's house and into a hotel, with Monroe coming up with some
excuse, keeping Nick there one more night. And it's easier for Nick - well, both Nick and Monroe. There's the church that they investigate
together, made easier since Nick just drove from the Portland PD downtown office to Monroe's place and filled Monroe in on the details along the way. Then
come some nasty run-ins with a few other creatures, from the Spinnetod that torments her way through a few high-profile Oregon CEOs, to a Strangebär that
takes out two entire Parks Department crews. Whatever Grimm-type work comes Nick's way during the day, he finds it easier to gather the information and
bring it home to Monroe, where the pair spends their evenings working the Grimm side of the crime equation.
And then there came the case of La Llorona, where Nick almost drowns trying to catch the mystical woman, finally coming up from deep underwater when she
slips from his grasp. He makes his way back to shore and waves off towels and blankets. All he wants to do is get back to Monroe's house and warm up, so he
takes one of the towels and puts it down in his truck before climbing in and turning the heat on full blast. When he pulls up to Monroe's, he finds the
streets mostly empty of trick or treaters, and quickly wanders inside to get out of the cold air.
"What happened to the window?" he calls as he takes his soggy shoes off at the front door.
Monroe comes around the corner, popping a piece of candy corn in his mouth as he says, "Couple of neighborhood brats who-" He stops at the sight of Nick.
"What the hell happened to you?"
"Don't wanna talk about it," Nick offers. "I'm gonna go get a shower," he says, pointing to the stairs. "Is there coffee?"
"I'll put on some tea," Monroe offers. But instead of going to the kitchen, he follows Nick up the stairs, taking the drenched shirt, then undershirt from
Nick as the man strips on his trip up the stairs.
Reaching the bathroom, Nick takes turns standing on the tip of each soaked sock, pulling them off by raising his leg, Monroe sighing and picking them up
from the floor. He shivers at both the cold, but also at the attention he's getting as he pulls at the buttons of his jeans, opening them one-handed. "You
mind putting these in the wash?" Nick asks.
It takes Monroe a moment to come back to his senses, Nick noting the Blutbad's eyes as they focus on the goosebumps on his chest. He's noticed Monroe
staring a bit more than usual as of late, and in some way, it intrigues him, though he mostly throws it off as his overactive imagination. It's been three
months since he moved in with Monroe, and because of the Blutbad's intense sensation of smell, he's barely allowed himself to jack off, doing so only in
the shower, on rare occasion, like when Monroe was busy with Pilates or outdoor work. And even though he's chilled to the bone, his nipples stand erect in
the cool air, and he knows his cock is already responding to Monroe's attention.
"Yeah, yeah," Monroe responds as Nick takes off his jeans and hands them over, Nick turning slightly to hide his semi-erect state.
Monroe turns to go down the stairs, but Nick interrupts him. "These, too," he says, tugging at his boxers and letting them puddle at his feet. It's the
first time he's been fully naked around Monroe, but it's not awkward, though he thought it actually might be. At Monroe's wide-eyed look (and then sudden
aversion of his eyes), Nick playfully whacks him on the shoulder. "Thanks buddy," he manages before disappearing behind the door.
He turns on the water and steps into the shower, the quick footfalls of a retreating Monroe sounding through the door.
~*~*~
The pair continue their comfortable living-together style for many more weeks, through Wesen and serial murderer cases, and even a couple of visits from
Nick's suddenly un-dead mother (who gives both Nick & Monroe the most curious look before disappearing again - Eastern Europe this time, she'd said).
Nick tries to remember to keep his side of the bargain when it comes to living with Monroe; they share the grocery shopping duties, alternating between the
local organic grocery (Monroe's week) and the local Safeway, where Nick tries to load up the cart with cheese doodles and all manner of salty snacks, and
Monroe spending an inordinate amount of time in the produce section, trying to figure out which of the honeydew melons is "just right." Nick takes
over cutting the grass, while Monroe rakes and manages the hedge clippers before Nick can, "Savage my poor begonias. Again." They fall into an easy rhythm,
like they'd been living with each other for forever, which allows Nick to let his guard down, and be himself around Monroe. The two thinking
nothing of spending a lazy Sunday morning sitting close to each other on the couch, sharing freshly baked scones while splitting the Sunday Oregonian,
Monroe only getting up to brew another carafe of coffee. And ever so slowly, Monroe stops being as bashful when the two find themselves in intimate
settings, at least (as far as Nick can tell) by the lack of blushes that spread across his face anymore.
One night, standing at the stove as Nick watches Monroe cook, Monroe takes a spoonful of the garlic potato casserole and blows on it, offering it first to
Nick before trying it himself. They make small talk as their dinner finishes when something strikes Nick. "You know," he says, reaching out to grasp
Monroe's shoulder, "this is nice. And..." he says, pulling from his memory, "this feels so much...more...than, you know - before."
"Before what?" Monroe asks, nodding to a cabinet for Nick to grab plates.
Before the moment passes, Nick squeezes Monroe's arm and says, "With Juliette," he says, quietly. "This feels... I don't know - more homey, more
cozy."
Nick turns to grab the plates, but not before watching a blush suffuse across Monroe's face. And Nick adds that to the list of Monroe blushes and looks
that he files away for future reference.
~*~*~
A few weeks later, during a particularly bad case involving a kidnapped young girl, the inevitable happens - Hank finally finds out about Nick,
and what it means to be a Grimm. Nick and Hank sit in Nick's truck for a few minutes while Hank processes everything until Nick decides to come fully
clean. He drives the gobsmacked detective right to Monroe's house, explaining more about Wesen to Hank, and slowly lets the new information sink in. "You
ready for some more?" he asks as he pulls up in front of Monroe's house.
Hank stares out the window for a minute, then turns to Nick. "Yeah," he says, voice quiet, so Nick gets out of the car, waiting for Hank to join him as
they stride up to the house.
"Monroe?" Nick calls, walking into the house. He finds Monroe hunched over a small silver pocket watch, seemingly lost in his work. He knocks on the table
to get Monroe's attention, causing a few of the smaller parts to scatter.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Monroe warns. "This is an 1892 Hamilton 18S." At Nick's nonplussed look, he says, "It's very rare, you uncultured boob." Then
there's movement behind him, and before Nick can say anything, Monroe says, "Hank?"
Nodding as Monroe drops his jeweler's eyepiece in his hand; the tall detective offers an unsure wave. "Hey," is all he manages.
"Man, you don't look so good," Monroe pronounces. "You want some water? Or tea?" Monroe gets up and quickly makes his way to the kitchen.
"A beer'd be better," Hank offers.
Monroe steps out into the hallway, pointing at Hank and Nick. "You're both still on duty, right?" Without waiting for a nod, he says, "Tea will have to
do."
With the tea prepared, Monroe joins the two detectives in his living room, settling onto the couch next to Nick as he gently sets down the tray between
them. He offers Hank a cup first, pointing out the sugar and cream, then hands over a prepared cup to Nick, saying, "Just how you like it."
Nick takes a sip, then pats Monroe's knee, quickly moving his hand after he notices Hank watch the intimate moment. "Thanks," he offers, and this time it's Nick's turn to blush.
"So what's up?" Monroe asks.
Nick sighs, then nods to his partner. "Hank knows-"
"Hank knows?"
"About me and-"
"But what about-"
"I haven't told him you-"
"Dude..." Monroe says, then sighs, nodding and adding, "Thanks." He wipes away the sudden insecurity from his face. Pointing to himself, Monroe starts, "Do
you want me-"
"Kinda, yeah. But only-"
"You know it's-"
"Jesus, you two," Hank barks out with a laugh. "It's like being around my freaking parents. Except they've been married for thirty seven
years."
Nick balks, "We are so not like-"
"Dude," Monroe offers, cutting him off, considering the situation for a moment. "We kinda are." He smiles and continues, "You are so
the-"
"The hell I am," Nick says, whapping Monroe in the arm with the back of his hand. Monroe protests with a look.
"You're totally the girl," Monroe jabs.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, but who got upset when I stained his favorite apron?"
There's peace in the house for about ten seconds, and smiles all around until Monroe says, "And to think I was gonna make you Facon BLTs for dinner
tonight."
"He's right," Hank offers, raising his cup. "You are the girl."
After some small talk, Nick calls into the station to "sign off" for the day, so Monroe allows him and Hank to switch to beers, crinkling up his nose when
both men choose Nick's Hamm's over the two microbrews that Monroe keeps on hand. Talking through the early evening, the threesome cover a lot of the
seedier side of Portland, at least that having to do with Wesen, and even quite a bit of Nick's history, though they gloss over some of the more indelicate
facts that Hank isn't ready for. They're three beers in, with the entire platter of Facon BLTs devoured and Nick digging through the nearly empty bag of
Cheetos for crumbs when Hank finally gets and holds Monroe's gaze. "Can you show me?"
"Show you?" Monroe questions, though from the look he gives Nick, Nick is sure Monroe knows what Hank is asking. "What?" Monroe asks, nonchalantly
taking another sip of his beer.
Hank just points to Monroe's face, using both hands and moving his fingers as if to convey what he truly wants. "You know, the thing."
"It's called a woge," Nick offers.
Monroe reaches over and puts his hand on Nick's shoulder (Nick trying, but failing, to resist the urge to lean into the touch), and cocks his head to the
side. "Aww, would you look at that. Our little Grimm is growing up and using all sorts of big-Grimm words."
Nick snorts, almost sending a sip of beer up through his sinuses and out through his nose. "Shuddup, ya jerk," he counters.
It takes 20 minutes and another beer to finally talk Monroe into it. Nick gets up and shuts the curtains in the living room, then comes back, Monroe
stopping him with a look to indicate he needs to stay next to Hank. "Okay, you ready?" Monroe asks.
Nick puts his hand on Hank's shoulder, Hank quickly turning and nodding at the reassurance.
"Okay, on the count of three," Monroe offers. He focuses on Hank, and quickly adds, "And just remember - it's just me, Hank. No need to worry -
just me."
Hank nods, which Monroe offers a nod in response.
"Okay, ready?" Monroe asks again. "On three. One..."
Monroe woges into his Blutbad form, coming out of it as quickly as he went into it, though it doesn't matter to Hank. Even though the man is seated, he
still manages to stumble backwards, toppling the chair as he quickly comes to his feet, eyes wide in wonder.
Nick is laughing, though he knows he shouldn't be, and it's just half a beat before Monroe is on his feet and dope-slaps Nick, calling him a jerk under his
breath before reaching out to Hank. "Hank? You okay, buddy?"
It takes Hank a second to calm himself, but he finally nods. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah, I'm cool... I just think I need a new pair of shorts."
~*~*~
Having Nick living with him has given Monroe a slight sense of comfort and normalcy; at least, as much as he can be comfortable, being a reformed
Blutbad living with a reformed Grimm. Though they have their separate lives during the weekdays, what with Nick working with the (newly informed) Hank,
while Monroe has his clocks and watches to work on, they spend most of their weekends together. It's domestic, which is something Monroe had always craved
(even though if anyone asked, he'd probably tell them he was a loner). And yes, it does make him crazy when Nick leaves a wet towel on the bathroom floor
("What am I, your maid?" "Would you wear the frilly little outfit for me?" "Weren't you supposed to find a hotel room, I don't know, like six months ago?" "You love me, Monroe, and you know it." "You are a freakishly disturbed human being, Burkhart." "Says the big bad wolf," which
Monroe's growl really should have intimidated Nick instead of giving him those cutsie puppydog eyes and smile). Or when Nick attempts to cook, and
uses a fork in one of Monroe's good non-stick Teflon pans ("Out of the kitchen and go get in the car." "Where are we going?" "Bed, Bath, and Beyond." "Oh,
you buying me new sheets?" "No, you're buying me new cookware. Good stuff that I get to pick out and you don't get to use. Ever. Don't
give me that look! Didn't I tell you what forks do to Teflon?"). But honestly, he wouldn't change their lives one bit.
Well, maybe one bit. And speaking of bit, or rather biting, Monroe is currently thoroughly dazed by the maroon sweatshirt Nick is wearing, and is
intently focusing on the artery in Nick's vein, the rhythmic pulse almost hypnotic, and Monroe is doing everything he can to keep himself from leaning over
and marking Nick with a bite. It takes him a second to realize Nick's asked him a question.
"What?" he asks. He's got to stop zoning out like that.
"I asked you if you wanted to go to the Portland PD Day at the Zoo with me? It's next Saturday."
Monroe ignores him for a moment and leans across the breakfast nook, pulling at the material of Nick's sweatshirt. "What?" Nick asks as the material is
pulled over his head. Monroe balls up the fabric, gives it a bit of a growl, and tosses it towards the nearby washer & dryer unit. "Hey, that was new,"
Nick protests.
"It was red," Monroe accuses, and doesn't miss the flash of skin of Nick's stomach where his t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the trail of hair
that led from Nick's bellybutton to below the waist of his jeans.
Pulling his t-shirt back down, he counters, "It was mauve." At Monroe's incredulous look, he adds, "At least the saleslady told me it was mauve."
"That is red," Monroe counters, pointing at the offensive sweatshirt that now is resting on the floor near the washer.
Rolling his eyes, Nick manages a, "Whatever," with a half-laugh, half-sigh. "So, you wanna go?"
Getting a faraway look in his eyes, Monroe manages, "Those poor animals - all locked up in cages."
"Don't tell me you're-" Nick starts.
"I like the monkeys," Monroe counters before Nick can finish his sentence.
Nick nods. "Cool. Just don't forget - date next Saturday at the zoo."
Nick's use of the "date" word makes Monroe blush about as dark as the now abandoned sweatshirt.
~*~*~
Eleven months into Nick's stay with Monroe, and a couple of weeks after Nick uses the "date" term (which Monroe doesn't even raise an eyebrow at), Nick and
Monroe share a lazy Sunday morning together. Monroe promises to go running with Nick, but sometime later, after they've polished off most of the vegan
coffee cake that Nick picked up the night before on his way back from an unexpected call into the office.
They sit on Monroe's sofa; Monroe's holding a section of the paper in his right hand with his arm stretched across the couch, Nick leaning into him ever so
slightly. As a chill covers the room, Nick pulls up the blanket covering his feet, then scoots just a bit closer to Monroe. "How is it you're always so
warm?" Nick asks, not hiding the fact that he's now practically plastered against Monroe's side, leaning into the warmth.
Monroe drops his arm from the back of the sofa and drapes it across Nick's shoulders, Nick approving of the move by the quietest of groans showing his
comfort. "We Blutbaden run a full three degrees warmer than your average human," he says, not diverting his attention from the Everyday Vegan
column in the Oregonian. Finally turning to Nick, he asks, "Didn't you know that? Wasn't it in one of your Grimm books?"
Nick looks up into Monroe's eyes, and the two share a quiet glance, Nick finally saying, "Nope; don't remember anything like that."
Muttering, Monroe adds, "Probably because every other Grimm before you spent most of their time taking off our heads instead of - I don't know - really taking the time to learn about us."
Nick takes advantage of the situation and puts his hand on Monroe's leg, patting it gently. "On behalf of my ancestors, I sincerely apologize," he manages
with a grin. He doesn't press his luck, and pulls his hand away, refolding the newspaper to give his newly freed hand something to do.
Monroe just pulls Nick closer, so Nick turns back to Monroe. The two share a smile, and then pause; the air feels electric, and Nick can feel his heart
thumping wildly in his chest as Monroe's eyes show a hint of red around the pupils. Then Monroe seems to lean down, his full, rich lips glistening after
his tongue darts out to lick them and Nick leans up, licking at his own as he starts to close his eyes in anticipation of something Nick has wanted for a
while now; to kiss Monroe.
The silence of the room is suddenly cut by a shrill noise, and it takes Nick half a second to recognize the ringtone from his own cell phone. Monroe
releases him and Nick gives him almost an apologetic look as he reaches down and grabs his phone, recognizing the number as Portland PD's dispatch.
"Burkhardt," he almost barks into the phone, the electricity of the moment fading quickly from the room as he sits up and rests his elbows on his knees.
Dispatch gives him the quick rundown of a body found in a nearby hotel, so he acknowledges the call, signing off with, "I'll call Hank and pick him up;
we'll be there in fifteen." Hanging up the phone, Nick turns to Monroe. "Got a new case," he says, hoping his eyes can convey the message, 'Can we try
again later?' with just a look.
Monroe answers with a nod, then a smile. "You just want to get out of grocery shopping," he manages with a smile.
Pulling out his wallet, Nick hands over his half of what the grocery bill normally runs. "And can you pick me up some Cool Ranch Doritos?"
"Doritos, yes," Monroe responds as Nick stands, grabbing his jacket from the coat hook by the door. "Cool Ranch? No." At Nick's pouty look, Monroe says,
"Cool Ranch is evil, man."
"Is that why you finished off the remains of my last bag this week?" Nick playfully tosses back.
Sighing, Monroe responds, "I didn't say they weren't tasty..."
Nick manages a smile, then winks at Monroe as he leaves the house. He's in his truck, siren blaring and on his way to Hank's house, though his mind is
preoccupied with the interrupted kiss.
~*~*~
Monroe finishes the paper, though his mind is on the moment that he and Nick had almost shared, so he misses the gist of most of the articles. He
gets a call from Rosalee, who needs some help down at the Spice Shop, so he finally gets ready and heads out. Rosalee, who needs help mixing a potion for a
particularly pushy Hexenbiest, is first on the list. It takes the pair about six hours to get the measurements right, so the sun is already low in the West
when he's ready to head out into the late afternoon.
After a stop at New Seasons Market, and then another at Safeway to pick up Nick's snacks, Monroe gets in his VW and starts the car. Before he gets
underway, he texts Nick to see if he can expect him home or not, getting a "Probably a few more hours - maybe 8ish?," text in response.
Monroe texts back "Cool. Dinner'll be in the frig if you're later." And with that, he puts his car in gear and makes the quick trip back to his house.
Monroe grabs the six overfilled canvas bags (he swears he has no idea how Nick can stay so thin with the amount of junk food that the man manages to eat),
and walks up to his door. He puts three of the bags down to free up his hand just as a scent - something a bit familiar, but mostly foreign to him, hits
his sinuses. He turns, sniffing the breeze, before dismissing it as a nearby animal, putting the key in the lock, then picking up the stray bags and
walking into his house.
Stepping over the threshold, Monroe kicks the door closed behind him and flips on the light switch. He nearly drops his bags, and suppresses the urge to
woge when he sees someone sitting on the couch, almost too proper, and not moving from where she sits. Only her eyes move, as she tracks Monroe
with a questioning look, raising one eyebrow as one of Monroe's bags slips to the floor, a few items skittering out and onto the carpet.
"Shit," he says, then reaches down to grab the bag, never letting his eyes leave the woman. He takes a deep breath, then says (as calmly as his
voice allows), "So, Mrs. Burkhardt. To what do we owe this honor?"
"Kelly," the woman says, never budging from her seat.
Nodding, Monroe just says, "Okay... So Kelly. What do we owe-"
Kellie Burkhart, mother of Nick, finally stands. "Here," she says, holding out her hands and walking towards Monroe. "Let me help."
Monroe hands over three of the bags, but his hand instinctively goes to his throat in almost a subconscious effort to protect himself.
"Don't worry, Blutbad," she says. "This is purely a social call."
Monroe scoffs at first, then scurries into the kitchen at Kelly's questioning look. "Sorry, sorry," he manages. "Just... I'm just not used to Grimm's
making just social calls," he says, the air quotes definitely hanging there around the uncommon phrase. Or at least, uncommon in mixed Grimm/Wesen
company. He starts to un-bag the groceries, setting them on the counter; all while keeping one eye on the elder Burkhardt.
Unpacking a bulk bag of wheat berries, something Monroe had wanted to try on Nick for a while, but hadn't had the right recipe until this week (recently
given to him by another reformed Blutbad he'd met soon after they'd moved to Portland), Monroe watches as Kelly eyes up the bag of grain, then looks back
at him, questioningly. "You know," she says, handing over the bag, "we Grimm have a long, rich, very detail oriented history."
Monroe visibly gulps, and unconsciously grabs at his neck again. "I'm pretty sure I'm familiar," he manages, trying hard not to let his voice break.
"Yes, well," Kelly says, "besides that. We Grimm mothers hold tradition of meeting those close to our children. And I, myself, am pretty particular about
wanting to get to know the person my son is dating. Especially when that someone is a Blutbad."
As soon as Kelly Burkhardt had uttered the word, 'dating', Monroe had gone white as a sheet. "Um, Mrs. Burkhardt-" and at the look he gets in return, adds,
"Kelly. Nick and I... We're not exactly dating." He blows out a sigh. "At least, you know - not officially or anything. Actually, I'm not
exactly sure what we're doing."
"Trust me," Kelly says, and Monroe doesn't know if he should feel unsettled or calmer at the somewhat forced smile on Kelly's face. "You're pretty much
dating my boy, Blutbad." Clicking her tongue, she adds, "Though I suppose I should call you by your name. Monroe, is it?" she asks. Monroe just nods. "Well
then," she says, "how about I fix us some drinks, and you fix us a little snack while we wait for Nickie to get home?"
Monroe just nods, pointing out where the wine and wine glasses are as he pulls some wheat crackers from the pantry and a couple vegan spreads from the
refrigerator. "If you don't mind me asking," he says, with a curious tone as he lays out the snack, "how the hell did you know about me & Nick?"
Kelly just smiles. "A Grimm mother always knows, Monroe," she says, uncapping the bottle before pouring them both a glass.
~*~*~
Nick finishes with the crime scene a lot faster than he figured he would; it turns out from preliminary results that the businesswoman had slipped in the
shower and hit her head, but made it out to the bed before succumbing to unconsciousness, where she bled out. He texts Monroe that he'll be home, but
doesn't get a response before he puts his truck into gear and heads toward home (Hank having gotten a ride with Wu). He walks up to the door and playfully
calls, "Honey, I'm home," as he crosses the threshold and puts his coat on the wall-hook, then drops his keys in the bowl by the door.
"In here, Nickie," he hears, and is alarmed - is that his mother?
Barreling around the corner into the kitchen, Nick is suddenly stopped dead in his tracks by what he sees; he goes white as the blood drains from his face,
and his eyes get wide at the incredulous sight.
It takes Nick quite a few seconds to come out of his sudden stupor, and he tries to clear away the fog in his brain and make sense of the sight in front of
him. It's Monroe, lying on the floor, with his mother standing over the body, a knife clutched in her white-knuckled hands.
"Jesus fuck, mom!" Nick blurts, then goes to Monroe's side, eyes still wild as he tries to make sense of the scene, touching Monroe's still body
to check for wounds, though none seem obvious. It's then that he hears his mother laughing, and then turns and watches as Monroe's body starts to convulse
- also in laughter.
Quickly looking from Monroe's body to his mother, than back to Monroe, Nick's gaze settles on Monroe's hands, which come up to cover his mouth as the
Blutbad sniggers, and suddenly the kitchen is filled with nothing but the sound of laughter.
"Sorry, dude," Monroe says as he sits up, holding out a hand to get Nick to help him right himself. "That was just too good to pass up," he says
between laughs and gasping for breath.
"He's right, Nickie," his mother adds, abandoning the knife into the sink and laughing. "And you should have seen your face. I wish I'd have brought my
camera..."
Nick finishes helping Monroe to his feet, then pokes him in the chest with his finger. "You scared the hell out of me, man." After giving him the
once over, he turns to his mother. "What are you doing here, mom?"
"What? A mother can't check on her boy from time to time?"
"A regular mother, yes. You?" Nick adds, giving his mother a hug. "Not usually."
"Old dog, new tricks. Eh, Blutbad?" Kelly asks, raising her wine glass.
Sighing, Monroe clinks his glass with Nick's mother. "Oh jeez. At least I know where he gets it, now."
~*~*~
The trio sit around the table, listening to Kelly as she describes what she's been through the last few months trooping around Europe and Asia, not asking
specifics about how she'd gotten rid of the coins, but listening to all the different countries and situations she's been in. She even tells Nick and
Monroe how their friendship has inspired her, and helped shape with how she's dealt with Wesen - at least the ones that aren't trying to kill her.
"You want some coffee or something?" Monroe asks as he stands to clear the table.
"I'll do that," Nick says, stopping Monroe and reaching out for the plates.
"No, no, no," Monroe balks. "Sit; visit with your mom."
Nick smiles his reply, then reaches out and grabs Monroe's arm, giving it a squeeze. He nods, then sits back down.
Yawning, Kelly stands. "C'mon, Nickie," she says, nodding towards the rest of the house. "Let's go to the living room. I've been sitting for way
too long."
As she stifles another yawn, Nick nods. He sticks his head into the kitchen. "Do we have any decaf? Mom seems pretty tired."
Monroe goes to the freezer and pulls out his special beans (the ones Nick isn't allowed to touch except under direct supervision). When he sees
none, he goes to the pantry, pulling a can out, a disapproving frown on his face. "Only decaf we have is this Yuban crap that you bought a few months ago."
Nick raises his eyebrows, using that look on Monroe, who grumbles, "It's a good thing I like you, Grimm," before finding a filter and starting a
pot of coffee. Nick laughs; Monroe uses his old fashioned coffeemaker for the Yuban instead of the new fancy one that he and Nick had picked out a couple
months ago on a trip to Kitchen Kaboodle.
Nick makes his way to the living room and continues to catch up with his mother, Monroe showing up a few minutes later with a tray of coffee and some
assorted cookies and treats. They talk about their lives since they've last seen each other, and before they know it, it's nearing 11pm. When Kelly stifles
yet another yawn, it becomes contagious, Nick, and then Monroe, following her lead. "Man, is that the time?" Nick asks, glancing at a clock from the
mantle. "Mom, where are you staying?"
"Oh I can get a hotel near the airport; I've got a flight to Tokyo in," she glances at her watch as she yawns yet again, "thirteen hours."
Turning to Monroe, Nick raises an eyebrow, Monroe understanding Nick's unasked question, and responding by giving him a nod. "Mom, you know you could stay here. Monroe's got a guest bedroom that you could take; I can take the couch."
As Kelly starts to shake her head, Monroe adds, "It's really not a problem... Seriously."
Kelly considers it for a moment, then nods her head. "Oh, could I trouble you for a glass of water?" she asks.
Monroe gets up to retrieve the water as Nick and his mother continue their visit. He comes back and hands it to her, Kelly accepting it, but her body is
wracked by a colossal sneeze, the plastic tumbler slipping from her grip and spilling across two of the couch cushions.
"Oh I'm so sorry," she says, looking for something to dab at the spill.
Monroe makes quick work of getting a couple of tea towels from the kitchen and starts working on the spill, but not before much of the water is soaked up
into the fabric.
Standing, Kelly blushes ever so slightly - something Nick doesn't remember her doing before she left his life all those years ago. "Well, I guess I should
try and find a hotel after all," she says.
"No, no. It's okay," Monroe offers. "Nick can just... Well, he can just bunk with me."
Turning to Monroe, Nick asks, "I can?" And the very thought sends a grin across his face.
"If you're sure," Kelly adds, Monroe nodding his assent half a beat later. "Okay then, boys. Where'm I staying?"
Monroe excuses himself to the kitchen to tidy up, sending Nick and Kelly up the stairs. Nick leads his mother to what's become his bedroom, and grabs a few
of the items that he may need overnight. He takes some of his laundry, finding it sitting next to his mother's small suitcase on the sideboard, then
crosses to the door.
He's about to say goodnight when he realizes something; how did his mother already get her suitcase and travel gear up here, he wonders. "Uh, mom?
How..." he starts.
Kelly Burkhardt just smiles, then pulls her son into a hug. "I love you, Nickie," she says. Releasing him, she gives him a wink, and then shoos him out of
the room.
"Love you, too, mom," Nick says, then pulls the door shut behind him.
Nick retires to Monroe's room, joined by the Blutbad a few minutes later. They take turns in the bathroom, brushing teeth and getting ready for bed, and
both end up standing at the foot of Monroe's bed, avoiding each other's gaze and instead staring at the bed as they each undress down to boxers and
t-shirts. Looking at the clock, and seeing that it's nearing Midnight now, Nick shrugs, then points to the bed. "So..." he starts.
Monroe nods, and each man takes a side, Nick crawling under the covers as Monroe flicks off the light switch, then joins him in bed.
"'s a little chilly," Nick says. There's just a single blanket on the bed; heavy, but still just a single blanket, whereas the guest room had a couple of
thick blankets and flannel sheets.
Sighing, Monroe turns to face Nick. "C'mere," he says, pulling Nick to him. "Remember, three degrees warmer," he adds, pulling Nick into a spooning
position.
The pair stay like that, neither able to sleep. After a few minutes, Nick starts to feel something poke him in the back, and it doesn't take much to figure
out exactly what the warm, throbbing object actually is. "Uh, Monroe?" he asks, voice quiet but playful.
When Monroe doesn't answer him, Nick turns over, and comes nose-to-nose to the Blutbad, smiling when he notices the red tint glowing around Monroe's dark
eyes.
"Listen, Nick," Monroe starts, but pauses. Nick squeezes his thighs closer to the Blutbad, gently moving his skin against Monroe's cloth covered cock,
earning a groan from the man.
"Jesus-" Monroe starts as Nick pushes against him, rubbing one leg against Monroe's turgid cock as Nick uses his free hand to pull Monroe to him.
He licks at Monroe's lips, the Blutbad giving in and opening his mouth, giving Nick access. Their tongues entwine against each other, Monroe letting out a
groan as Nick pulls the man closer, rubbing his own cock against Monroe's stomach.
The two continue to kiss, hands exploring each other's bodies until Nick finally pulls back. He leans his forehead against Monroe's and sighs. The two
stare into each other's eyes, a gentle laugh coming from each of their chests.
"Nick," Monroe sighs, but Nick puts a hand to Monroe's chest.
With a pleading look in his eyes, Nick asks, "Later, okay?"
And there's that red tint around Monroe's eyes. "Later?" he whisper-screams, reaching around and grabbing Nick's ass, pulling the man closer. He
steals a kiss, then releases Nick, pressing their foreheads together again.
"Yeah," Nick says, reaching around and pinching Monroe's backside. "You know, like when my mother isn't in the next room?"
The pair share one more kiss, then Nick smiles and turns back over, pulling Monroe's arm over his stomach and cradling the hand in his, slipping their
fingers together. With Monroe's excess heat, he can totally see being the little spoon most of the time - at least during the colder months.
Behind him, Monroe groans, and Nick smiles as he feels the Blutbad's breath on his neck. "What?" Nick asks.
Squeezing Nick's hand, Monroe says, "I always figured I might be taken out by a Grimm one day. Just never figured it would be in bed..."
Nick just smiles, then snuggles back into Monroe a bit more. "'night, Monroe," he says.
"'night," he hears from behind him. And within seconds, he's fast asleep, the feel of a kiss against his shoulder chasing him into slumber.
~*~*~
Sleeping through the night, with quite a few more interesting dreams, Nick is roused by the sound of Monroe and a hand at his shoulder. "Nick? Nick?"
"Mmwha?" Nick manages to answer, his brain not fully functional yet. He looks up and smiles into Monroe's face as the man beams back down at him. "Good
morning," he manages, stretching, then leaning up and grabbing a quick kiss.
"Dude," Monroe says as he lays back on his pillow. "Your phone's been ringing."
Getting out from under the covers, Nick says, "Shit, sorry," and starts to head downstairs to retrieve his phone. He stops on the landing, the door to the
guestroom open, and there's a note on the already-made bed. "Mom?" he calls down the stairs, knowing she's probably already gone, then crosses into the
room and grabs the note. He reads it, then walks back into Monroe's.
"What's that?" Monroe asks as he stretches, climbing out of bed and going directly into a few pre-Pilates warm-up moves.
"My mom," Nick responds. Looking up, he watches as Monroe bends at the waist, and clearly is enjoying the view when Monroe comes out of the move with a
questioning look. "Oh, she had to go. Change of plans; says she's going to Mexico City. Flight was this morning at six."
Monroe nods and walks up to Nick, grabbing a kiss.
"You know," Nick says, grabbing the waistband of Monroe's boxers as Monroe tries to walk out of the door. "We have the house to ourselves now..."
Monroe turns and bends down with a smile, Nick leaning up and meeting him halfway for something a little more than a 'good morning kiss' when Nick's phone
rings downstairs. "Shit," he says. Placing a hand against Monroe's chest, Nick winks and says, "Hold that thought," then turns and heads downstairs.
Grabbing the phone, he sees two missed calls from Hank and a missed call from Dispatch. Unlocking his phone, he hits the "Voicemail" indicator and listens
to the Dispatch officer bark out the details about a late-night kidnapping, saying that they'll contact his partner and attempt to get in touch with him
again.
Nick bounds back up the stairs and into Monroe's room. Holding out the iPhone, he says, "Got a case. I need to call Hank, then get a shower." Walking up to
the once-again stretching Monroe, he asks, "Rain check?" then pulls Monroe to him, rubbing against the now shirtless Monroe's belly.
"Better make it damn fast," Monroe manages through another wanting groan.
Nick just smiles, then sits on the bed and calls Hank. He starts to get the details as Monroe goes to the door, and Nick stumbles over a few words as
Monroe stops at the doorway and lets his boxers puddle at his feet, taunting Nick with a raised eyebrow before he disappears towards the bathroom.
"Uh, yeah, I'm fine," Nick manages into the phone. "I'll be there in fifteen," he says, then Monroe peeks his head around the corner, "twenty five minutes
tops," then abandons his phone to the bed, stripping out of his t-shirt and boxers as he follows Monroe into the shower.
~*~*~
The case is over relatively quickly; it's a drug-abusing ex-wife who abducted her biological daughter in the middle of the night as her ex-husband lay
sleeping in his new apartment. Nick and Hank get to the door of the kidnapper's apartment and hear a crying toddler inside; it's just cause, considering
the circumstances, to make their way into the apartment by force and rescue the toddler, finding the already strung-out mother slumped across her bed,
passed out. They manage to take the toddler in and get the paramedics on the scene, shooting up the addict with Narcan, which not only woke up the sleeping
kidnapper, but also reversed the effects of the drugs in her system.
Nick and Hank make their way to the station, Hank sitting with their precious cargo in the back of Nick's truck. Nick drives slower than usual since they
don't have a car seat for the little one, and pull up just as child protective services shows up at the station. They enter and find the father sitting at
a desk, a clearly somewhat frazzled Sergeant Wu talking to the man in as reassuring voice as he can muster.
With father and daughter reunited and headed back home, Nick and Hank sit down at their desk to start working on all of the paperwork involved. About two
hours later there's a bit of a commotion as Wu walks through the precinct carrying four large pink boxes in his hands. "Oh thank god; VooDoo," Nick manages
at the sight of the four large boxes of donuts coming into the station and being distributed amongst the crew. "I didn't get breakfast."
"Yeah," Hank says, an eyebrow going skyward. "You never said why you didn't answer your phone this morning."
Before Nick can respond, Wu is at their desks with a box of VooDoo Donuts finest. "And for the two gentlemen who actually did all the work," Wu
says, setting the box down, "your own bakers dozen."
Nick dives into the box instead of answering, picking out a frosted bubblegum donut and pocketing the piece of Double Bubble brand bubblegum that comes
with it for later. "God, these are so good," Nick manages through a mouthful of yeasty treat.
"A man brings me donuts at work," Wu says, stealing the Grape Ape from the box and taking a bite, "that there's marriage material." At both Nick and Hank's
curious looks, he adds, "What? A man brings donuts into the station - that's a big deal. I'm not that straight that I don't recognize marriage
material when I see it."
"Marriage material," Hank says around a mouthful of bacon maple bar.
Wu takes another bite, his face looking as if he's considering the situation. "Well, you know... At least second base."
~*~*~
The rest of the workday drags on with papers to fill out and other busywork that keeps Hank and Nick busy until nearly 4pm, Wu coming by every so often to
peek into the box and take his pick of what's left. "C'mon," he says to Hank as he nods to Wu, who's taking the last two donuts and "humanely disposing of
them; you know - taking one for the team." "Let's get outta here," he calls.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Hank says. "First Monday of the month, remember?" At Nick's nonplussed look, he adds, "Dinner out with Wu and Fred and the boys from
Homicide?"
Nick just shakes his head. "Totally slipped my mind; I've got other plans."
Hank looks at him, giving him a curious look. Raising an eyebrow, Hank just asks, "Hot date?"
Nick can't help the smile that instantly plasters across his face. "You could say that," he manages. "Find your own way home tonight?"
Hank looks Nick up and down, then shakes his head side to side. "Whatever, Loverboy," he says. And just like that, Nick is out the doors, and striding to
his car with purpose.
The drive to Monroe's is hampered because of a ship coming into the Willamette, causing the Steel Bridge to be raised. By the time Nick finally gets to
Monroe's house, he's been rock hard for half an hour and nearly aching for Monroe's touch.
He parks his car and strides quickly into the house, barely stopping at the front door to slip out of his shoes and toss his keys into the bowl next to the
door. He calls, "Monroe?" as he walks to the kitchen.
He finds Monroe slouching against the sink as if to say the waiting was nearly as painful for him as it was for Nick. His face brightens, though, as Nick
catches his gaze, and Nick walks up to him, a purpose in his step.
Nick pins Monroe against the counter and kisses him, his tongue easily gaining entrance and his hands exploring as he swallows a moan that comes from deep
within Monroe's chest. He breaks their kiss only to lean back and grab Monroe's hand, pulling him towards the stairs. "Bedroom," is the only thing he
manages to coherently say, and the two disappear up the stairs and behind a locked door in record time.
~*~*~
A few weeks after they're officially a couple, Nick and Monroe find that things really haven't changed all that much between them. They still share smiling
glances every day, Monroe still scoffs at Nick's cheap beer, and they still share a small space on the sofa on Sunday mornings as they share coffee,
scones, and the paper. But now there are kisses and licks, and promises of much more to come.
Late one Friday night as the pair cuddles on the couch, Nick lets the stress of the work week slowly dissipate as he snuggles close to Monroe, who chooses
the movie for the evening - one of the classic Thin Man movies from the 1930s. It's something Nick has heard about, but Monroe, of course, is a
black & white film aficionado, so he spends half the movie with Monroe explaining things from script choices, to the four different Wire Fox Terriers
that shared the role of Asta throughout the movie franchise, to the merits of filming in black and white.
Just after Nick & Nora from the movie solve the case and the credits start rolling, Monroe turns his attention to Nick, a bemused look on his face.
"You know," Monroe starts, then grabs a kiss, "that's kinda like us."
"What's like us?" Nick manages as he digs through the dregs of the popcorn bowl for half-popped kernels.
"You know - Nick and Nora," Monroe says, gesturing to the television as the credits start rolling for the next movie in the Thin Man series. "The
original crime fighting couple. Except for us, it's - well - Grimm stuff."
Nick just smiles. "Nick and Norah, huh?" he asks, the biggest grin spreading across his face.
"Well, yeah," Monroe says. "The intrepid duo and their little dog, fighting crime and drinking martinis and beer along the way. Kinda what we do - no?"
"But, um," Nick manages, glancing into Monroe's eyes with his eyes crinkling up at the side. "Aren't you more like the dog - Asta?"
In a split second, as Nick starts laughing, Monroe moves the popcorn bowl to the coffee table and pins Nick to the couch, holding his hands at the side and
leaning down, biting gently at the pulse point in Nick's neck.
"I could end you right now, Grimm," Monroe says, though his teeth come away from Nick's neck, replaced by a tongue that licks along Nick's neck, Nick
shuddering under the attention until Monroe leans up and gazes into Nick's eyes.
"But you won't," Nick manages, leaning up and stealing a kiss.
Monroe actually acts like he's considering it for a moment until he says, "Yeah, you're probably right."
Nick just grins the biggest grin he can imagine as he frees his hands and puts them on Monroe's back, sinking them into the back pockets of Monroe's
corduroys.
"Good boy," Nick says, then immediately starts to laugh, drowning out the growl that Monroe manages.