Work Text:
It was late before Nick arrived at Monroe's house. Monroe was working on a few straightforward clock repairs that he was sure he could finish before tomorrow. He was startled out of his working trance at the sound of Nick's key in the door.
Nick poked his head in his work room. “Hey, sorry I'm late.”
“It's alright. You Grimms keep crazy hours.”
Nick grimaced. “More like us detectives. Humans are giving me headaches today.”
“Doesn't matter what species you are, you can still be a criminal.” Monroe said, reaching for his tweezers.
“I'll only be a little longer. I have to finish these repairs tonight. There are leftovers in the fridge.”
“Bless you.” Nick placed a quick kiss on Monroe's cheek and scurried off to the kitchen to rummage through Monroe's fridge. Monroe smiled and shook his head, going back to the watch in front of him. He had to tighten a few more gears and replace the glass on the front, which had small cracks in it.
Nick got himself a bowl of the vegetable soup in the fridge, realizing he was ravenous.
After finishing the soup and a generous piece of a baguette on the counter, Nick curled up on Monroe's couch, watching him through the work room door.
“What are you working on?”
“I am perfecting my time traveling machine.”
“Haha, let me know when it's done. I want to go back in time and shake Abraham Lincoln's hand. Among other things.”
“Don't crush any butterflies in the 1800s.”
They fell silent for awhile, Monroe intently working on his repairs and Nick lazily flipping channels with the volume turned down, not really wanting to listen to newscasters and commercials, his head resting against the arm of the couch. He listened to the quiet sounds of Monroe's house, the gentle tick of the clocks, the slide of Monroe's tools against the wood of his work desk, the click of the gears in the watch as he tinkered with the glass on the front.
Nick knew the sound of ticking clocks bothered a lot of people but to him, they were strangely comforting. The rhythmic sound relaxed him, steady and constant. The familiar sounds of Monroe working mixed with the ticking, a symphony of scraping, clicking, and occasional quiet cursing. A gentle tingling started in his head, washing over him in a wave and giving way to a pleasant warmth that made Nick curl his toes against the couch cushion. He closed his eyes, nuzzling his cheek against the arm of the couch and drifted off to sleep, the warmth in his body easing away the stress of his day.
Monroe lost track of time and when he finally finished his last clock, it was past midnight. He got up and stretched, his back cracking. He couldn't sit for hours like that anymore without moving. He glanced over at the living room and saw Nick curled up on the couch like a cat, fast asleep.
Monroe shook his head, his friend looking way too comfortable to move. He grabbed a blanket from an armchair and draped it over him. He tucked it around Nick's shoulders, leaning down and placing a kiss on his head.
***
It was a busy season for Monroe. His reputation as a first rate clock maker and repair man was becoming known throughout Portland. Soon, he was busy working almost every night. Nick was busy as well, working late nights at the station. He still came to Monroe's house, instead of his own huge empty one, at the end of the day.
Lately, Monroe was up until midnight working but Nick still sat on his couch, ate his leftovers and not too long after, fell asleep to the sound of Monroe's tinkering. Almost every night for a week, Monroe would glance over and see Nick fast asleep on his couch, a faint smile on his face. He loved to see Nick looking so peaceful, the tiny creases gone from his forehead, drooling slightly on his pillows. After two nights of sleeping on his couch, Monroe decided that Nick needed a real bed if he ever hoped to function so he took to carrying him up to his bedroom. Nick barely woke up, just draped his arms around Monroe's neck and buried his face in his shoulder. Most of the time Nick was gone when Monroe woke up but there was usually a half full pot of coffee still warm in the kitchen and a note from Nick saying whether he would be late, signed with tiny hearts. Monroe always rolled his eyes but still felt his heart flutter.
And then a kidnapping and murder case landed on Nick's desk, taking up all of his waking hours. It was human related but it still found Nick at Monroe's house, talking aloud about DNA and circumstantial evidence. Nick was determined to find the guy and put him behind bars. Monroe was sympathetic. Anyone that kidnapped and murdered children, stringing their parents along for ransom money should burn as far as Monroe was concerned.
It was one of these nights that Nick was set up in Monroe's dining room, case files spread out all over the table that Monroe figured it out. They had eaten dinner together. Monroe was taking a short break from the cuckoo clocks he'd been commissioned to make for a local children's museum and Nick was trying to sort out his thoughts about the kidnapping case. It was driving him crazy, a piece of the puzzle alluding him.
Monroe offered his sympathies and went back to his work. He had only been working for about 15 minutes, sanding the wood and painting details on the little figures he'd made when he heard Nick moan slightly from the next room, a thud and crinkle of paper following it.
“Nick?” Monroe got up and went into the next room to find Nick laying with his head on the table, eyes closed, the papers of the case files spread around him.
“Hey man, are you alright?” Monroe touched his shoulder and Nick opened his eyes, lifted his head up in confusion.
“Yeah, I'm fine.”
“I heard you moaning or something in here.”
“Was I?” Nick blushed, avoiding his gaze.
“Yeah, you were. Maybe you should give the case a rest for tonight. I think it's getting to your head.”
***
As the case dragged on, Nick becoming more and more frustrated and anxious at the thought of more victims, Monroe began to notice something weird. Whenever Nick came over to obsess over the case, (which was pretty often), Monroe would often leave him to it and work on his clocks to stay out of Nick's way, offering suggestions if Nick asked for them. Usually whenever Monroe started working on his clocks, within 15 or 20 minutes, Nick was fast asleep. Monroe decided to experiment and not work on his clocks for a few nights. On those nights, Nick stayed awake longer, stressing himself out until Monroe forced him to sleep.
At first, Monroe offered to sit next to him and help out. It didn't always help but it seemed whenever Monroe left him to it and worked on the clocks, it lulled Nick to sleep. He finally put two and two together and realized that the tinkering sounds must somehow be lulling him to sleep.
Monroe tested his theory, changing up his activities so as not to arouse Nick's suspicion. Some nights he read or did pilates or played around with his model trains in the basement. When Monroe periodically walked by the dining room to check on Nick, he was still awake searching through the files until Monroe made him stop. When he had a commission or a repair to work on, he kept an eye on Nick, watching him slowly fall asleep to the sound of the ticking, clicking, scraping, brushing and painting, the rhythmic sounds somehow calming him down, when nothing else would.
Monroe worked on his clocks more, not quite sure why it calmed Nick down but he couldn't help trying to smooth out the creases in Nick's face and erase the dark circles from under his eyes.
***
It took three long agonizing weeks but the murderer was finally caught. Nick arrived at Monroe's house after a long day of paperwork processing and putting things in order. Monroe answered the door to Nick sagging against the frame.
“Did you catch the bastard?”
Nick nodded and Monroe stepped back, letting him in. He closed the door behind Nick and opened his arms without a word. Nick stepped into his embrace, leaning his head against his shoulder. They stood like that for a while, not saying anything. Monroe rubbed Nick's back and kissed his forehead.
“It's OK, Nick.”
After a few minutes, Nick lifted his head and kissed Monroe, still holding onto him.
They separated and Monroe put his hand on Nick's shoulder. “Do you want some dinner?”
“That would be great.”
Monroe went into the kitchen and Nick followed him, holding his hand. He opened the fridge, searching for the organic spinach he'd bought. Nick was still holding his hand and Monroe emerged from the fridge with the spinach. He set the container on the counter and turned to Nick.
“I'm going to need to use that hand in a few minutes, if you want some salad.”
“I'm sorry.” Nick let go of his hand, crossing his arms tightly.
Monroe studied him for a moment. “He's behind bars. He's not going to hurt anyone else.”
“I can't stop seeing it. Every time I close my eyes, I just picture him hurting them.”
Monroe took Nick's hands in his. “You caught him. You helped bring those children and their families justice. Because of you, he isn't going to hurt them anymore. I am proud of you, Nick.”
Monroe hugged him again. “Now, just relax. You earned it. I'm going to make you a dinner fit for a king.”
Nick smiled. “I'm not a king.”
“Even if you're not a king, you can still eat like one. Now, where is my whole grain pasta?”
Nick watched Monroe cook and helped where he could. They ate dinner and by the time they finished, Nick felt a lot better.
After they cleaned up, they went into the living room.
“Are you working on your clocks tonight?” Nick asked.
“Nope, I am all caught up.”
Monroe sat down on the couch, sprawling his long legs out. Nick lifted Monroe's legs and sat down, resting them back on his lap.
Monroe grabbed Nick's hand and pulled him closer. Nick shimmed from under Monroe's legs and sat with his back against Monroe's chest, his arms around him. Nick nuzzled his neck, closing his eyes and listening to Monroe's heart beat.
They watched an old movie marathon on TCM, still curled up together. Absentmindedly, Monroe ran his fingers through Nick's hair, gently massaging him.
“Hmm, that feels good.” Nick murmured into his shoulder. He moaned a little, pushing against Monroe's fingertips. Monroe pressed a little harder and Nick let out a gasp, a blissful expression crossing his face.
“Secret kink, huh?”
Nick blushed. “I have a thing about people touching my head.”
“And working on clocks too?”
Nick's face burned bright red. “Rhythmic sounds are soothing to me and soft noises like painting and drawing. I don't know why. They give me this warm feeling in my head, like a wave washing over me.”
“Like a brain orgasm?” Monroe grinned.
“I guess you could call it that.”
“Yeah, I noticed you always fall asleep when I work on my clocks.”
“I'm sorry, it's just the sound. It feels good.”
“Don't be sorry. That's actually pretty hot.”
Nick's blush came back in full force. “Really?”
“Yeah, just the thought of you getting off to the sound of my art, that is epic man.”
Nick punched him lightly in the arm. “Stop it, you're making it sound so dirty.”
“I thought you liked it when I was dirty.”
Nick kissed his neck. “I do like it.”
“Then will you let me rub your head all night?”
“Monroe!” Nick laughed.
“Now that I know, I have to challenge myself to give you orgasms in every part of your body. Like for instance, finger orgasms and toe orgasms and spleen orgasms and..”
Nick was laughing so hard he thought he might roll off the couch. “I think you are giving me a diaphragm orgasm from laughing.”
“Good, that's three down. We can work on the spleen orgasm now.”
Nick smiled, sitting up so he could kiss Monroe properly. “I love you.”
Monroe tangled his fingers in Nick's hair, gently massaging and feeling Nick gasp in his mouth.
“I love you, too.”