rajko: (buyshoes)
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Title: Confessions
Author: Rajko
Rating: PG
Category: Grimm
Ship: Nick/Eddie
Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance
Disclaimer: This is all just a bit of fun.
Warnings: Unbeta'd.
Notes: I'll most likely write a series of one-shots connecting to this one but, for now, enjoy! Written as a [livejournal.com profile] grimm_kink meme response.

Summary: There's a bloody gouge in his side the first time Nick tells Eddie he loves him.


There's a bloody gouge in his side the first time Nick tells Eddie he loves him. It isn't that he thinks that he's going to die or anything as tragically romantic as that. It's just that, there he is, blood rolling down his side and soaking into his new jeans, with the salt-sweet smell of his blood filling the air, and Eddie isn't trying to eat him. Or hurt him, or any of the other things blutbaden do when an easy kill and the color red is in front of them.

No, not his blutbad.

Instead of trying to kill or maim him, something the man could do easily at this point, Eddie is trying to save his life; his hands a slippery but firm mess against his side as he tries to staunch the blood flow, dial 911, and call him an 'idiot Grimm' all at the same time. Despite the pain, it makes Nick smile or, at least, try to smile, his expression frighteningly pale and ghost-like in the shadows of the warehouse. The place is empty now; completely cleared out thanks to one well-timed gunshot and an unexpected but not entirely unwelcome growl from his companion.

"Love you, you know," he slurs dizzily, head feeling strangely weightless and soft as it lolls against the cement wall he'd stumbled to and slid down. His legs are bent at a weird angle, floppy and loose but warm against Eddie's side. "I really, really do."

For a moment – a calm, clear moment – he can hear Eddie pause on the phone, his breath hitching in his chest, before he's telling the 911 operator to 'hurry the hell up!', tone an aggressive snarl before he's dropping his phone and pressing hard, almost too hard, against Nick's wound. Not that he can feel it, exactly. The pain is starting to fade now, dulling around the edges until it's a distant ache that he slides into unconsciousness with.

END (for now)

March 2012

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