raynedanserwrites | [popslash] Make September Happy

TITLE: Leave my Momma Outa This
AUTHOR: Den /

raynedanser
RATING: PG
Word Count: 504
SUMMARY: Jeff says something he immediately regrets. Nick is a moody bitch.
A/N: For the Make September Happy Challenge.
Part of the Ghosts 'verse, the original of which you can find RIGHT HERE

*****

“Nick, I - ” Jeff watched helplessly as Nick got up from the table, noisily dropped his dinner dishes into the sink, and stormed off, leaving the clean up to him.

Jeff stared at the opening to the hall where Nick had disappeared, wondering what the hell had just happened. Jeff sighed and began clearing off the rest of the supper dishes. He filled one side of the sink with warm, soapy water and began washing the few dishes they’d dirtied by eating dinner tonight. After, he stared at them in the dish strainer, thought about leaving them overnight, but decided against it and towel dried them and put them away as well.

No one would ever say his housekeeping sucked.

He found Nick in the living room, but when Jeff went in and sat next to him on the sofa, Nick wordlessly got up and moved to the recliner and began clicking through the channels again. Jeff sighed, scooted down lower on the cushion, propped his feet onto the coffee table and watched whatever Nick settled on for more than 5 minutes.

Long after the sun had set, Nick finally clicked the tv off, shut off the table lamp, then padded softly down the hall. All without speaking to Jeff. Again. Still. After hours of the silent treatment, Jeff had had enough and he followed Nick to the bedroom. There, he found Nick laying on the bed, his hands fingers linked together on his stomach, staring at the ceiling. They still hadn’t gotten curtains for the windows and the moon brightly lit the bedroom.

Jeff leaned against the door frame. “We’re fighting, aren’t we?” he asked. He knew the answer, it was pretty obvious, but he figured at least he might get a reaction from Nick. He was right. He was rewarded with a snort from the bed. “Wanna tell me why?” Jeff went on.

Nick propped himself up on his elbows. “Maybe you should ask your mom. I’m sure she could tell you,” Nick snapped.

“My mom?” Jeff echoed. “What does – Ohhhh... Nick, that’s not what I meant.”

Nick was watching him, completely interested now. “No? Well, what did you mean?”

Jeff went into the room, took a chance and sat down on the bed next to Nick. He curled one leg and tucked his foot under the other leg, leaning onto one hand a little bit. “You haven’t tasted my mother’s cooking yet, have you?” he asked, waiting as Nick shook his head. “Then, if you had let me finish.... When I said it didn’t taste like my mother’s, I meant that as a compliment. My mom is possibly the worst cook you will ever meet,” Jeff explained.

“Seriously.”

Jeff nodded. “Seriously.”

“So I wasted a good pout?” Nick asked, smiling.

Jeff laughed. “Yeah, you wasted a damn good pout.”

“Sorry?” Nick offered.

Jeff nodded. “Well, I know how you could make it up to me,” Jeff teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “But promise me. No more mentioning my mother, k?”