If you took out all of the empty space from between and within the atoms making up each human being, the entire human race would fit into the volume of a sugar cube. – WTF Fun Facts
A/N: It’s a big day for you...and for Nick. Gosh darn it I love that candy coated mobster man. This is a continuation of 10,800 and Make Somethin’ For Us.
Warnings: NEGATIVE 5. This is a pile-o-fluff.
Word Count: 4,074
“You don’t have to wear a suit, Nicky,” you’d told him that morning as the two of you laid your clothes out on the bed. The dress you’d chosen was one you’d had for a few years, a simple blue frock that you’d bought at Nick’s urging when he insisted on taking you somewhere nice for dinner. The two of you had ended up slow dancing at the diner while Carl looked on from the counter instead of sharing the four course meal that Nick had in mind, thanks to the discriminating eye and upturned nose of the restaurant’s snobbish hostess. But if you were being honest, you were glad that’s how it had gone. It was much more like the two of you, comfortable, easy and right. You kissed his shoulder as you stepped behind him to grab the plastic garment bag from your closet, the bright shiny material of your graduation gown, cap and cords showing through the clear covering. “It’s gonna be so hot and the ceremony’s outside and-“
“I’m wearin’ it,” he said, turning to catch you by the waist. You giggled and squirmed under his palms as they squeezed your flesh, dragging you into him so that your nearly bare chest was pressed against his, the overwhelming feeling of skin on skin causing your entire body to flush. Your hands found space on his sides, fingers tracing the faint scar you’d stitched up for him two years before. It always mixed your emotions to think about that night, to think about that scar, reminding you how quickly you almost lost him. But I didn’t. He’s here. He’s mine. “It’s an important day,” he insisted, hands sliding around to your back and resting just above your bottom. “So I’m dressin’ the part.”
“The part of what?” You asked, rising on your toes to brush the tip of your nose against his. “A puddle? Seriously, Nick, a shirt and tie with a jacket? It’s gonna be like 80-something degrees and- oof!”
He swallowed the rest of your sentence as his tongue entered your mouth, languidly caressing yours to silence it. You felt his warm breath against your lips as they turned upwards and moved with his, one hand gently brushing through your hair so as not to disrupt the curls you’d created, the other pressing your lower half more tightly to his. You gasped into the kiss at the sensation of his hardened arousal against your thigh, stoking the embers from the morning’s fire low in your abdomen, causing you to roll your hips tantalizingly slowly. Nick groaned into the kiss, that primal sound in the back of his throat only urging you on more. He needs to stop soon or I won’t be able to and then I’m gonna be late for my own damn graduation. As though he could read your mind, he pulled back with your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a slight tug. “The part of proud boyfriend,” he said with a wink. “Extremely proud boyfriend’a Boston’s best nurse. And that part requires a suit.” He shrugged, moving around you to start getting dressed. “Sorry, I don’t make the rules.”
You shook your head slowly from side to side, wondering what amazing thing you’d done in a former life to be gifted with his love in this one. “Suddenly you’re all about the rules?”
He pulled an undershirt down over his head before picking up the gray pants that were laid out next to your dress. “Gotta play by the rules sometimes,” he said, “gotta keep you on your toes.”
You laughed, and in that moment you couldn’t remember being happier. Your life with Nick had grown so much over the years, had gotten so much more full the further away he got from his past. It was always going to be a part of him, the things he’d done and the things that had happened to him. It would always be a part of your relationship. But you’d accepted that fact long ago, along with everything else about him. You stepped into your dress as Nick buttoned his pants, reaching behind yourself to pull the zipper up. You saw the corner of Nick’s mouth lift in a small smile from under his scruffy beard as you stalled ¾ of the way up between your shoulder blades. Before you could ask for help you felt his hand covering yours as he stepped behind you to take over, gently finishing the job . “Thanks,” you hummed as he grazed the skin above the neckline, trailing his fingertips up the side of your throat. You leaned into him as his arms slipped under yours and around your middle, his hefty gold chain pressed between his chest and your back.
“‘Course,” he murmured, head tilted so he could meet your ear with his lips. “You look real nice.” He kissed his way back down from your ear and around to the back of your neck. “You always look real nice.” His hands spread over the fabric of your dress as he pressed his nose to your skin and inhaled the citrusy scent of your body wash. “My gorgeous girl.”
Despite the fact that it was unseasonably warm and your landlord hadn’t turned the AC on yet, goosebumps rose up and down your arms at the way his voice vibrated through his chest, his breath tickling your skin. Your eyes fluttered closed as you turned in his grasp, one hand coming up to feel the steady beat of his heart against your palm, the other curling around the back of his neck. “You’ve seen me in this dress before, Nicky, it’s nothin’ special.”
Nick narrowed his eyes and brought both hands to frame your face, making sure you couldn’t look anywhere but at him. Not that you needed the direction. “You’re right. The dress?” He looked down at your ensemble and then back up, shaking his head. “It ain’t special.” You opened your mouth to get a snarky comment out, but his right hand slipped over your cheek to cover your lips. “You’re special, though,” he said, and you felt your eyes soften over the top of his hand. He let it fall away from your mouth and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as he continued. “I’m so proud’a you. And not just ‘cause of today. Not just ‘cause of all the work you put in goin’ after this goal.” He swallowed and you saw his eyes grow more serious. “I’m proud to be with you. Just ‘cause’a who you are. ‘Cause’a who I wanna be for you. I’m proud to be with you ‘cause you make me so much better, and-“
“Nick,” It was your turn to silence him, bringing two fingers up to press against his lips. You moved them to place a quick peck where they just were, delighting in the feel of his smile as you did. “I’m proud to be with you. Everything you’ve been through…all the things you’ve overcome and… and everything we’ve been through together, I…” You licked your lips, moving the hand on his chest to join the one behind his neck, flexing your fingers. “I’m so damn proud’a you, too, Nick Tortano. So don’t you ever forget it, got that?” So proud, Nicky.
“Got it,” he answered quietly, eyes still locked onto yours. Reaching up behind himself he dislodged your hands from around his neck. “Now, we got a ceremony to get to so we better finish getting ready.” the clock in the next room chimed to punctuate his point. He pointed in the direction of the sound. “I’m not gonna be late to my girl’s graduation, I dunno ‘bout you.”
He hurriedly resumed getting dressed, arms filling the long, starched white sleeves of his shirt. You watched him for another second, completely in love with the man in front of you. He caught you lingering as he worked the buttons through their holes, prompting him to raise an eyebrow and practically chase you from the bedroom. “Hey, I mean it! We ain’t gonna be late for this!”
You ran to the bathroom. “Sorry!” you called through the loose laughter bouncing off the walls of the short hallway. “I’ll be quick!” You picked up your lip stain and waited for your smile to relax enough to apply it, which was difficult because it was already one of the happiest days of your life, and you knew it was only going to get better once that diploma was in your hands. You thought back to that day on the Charles River, when Nick told you that he wanted to make something for your future. We made it, Nicky.
In fifteen minutes he was herding you to the car, carrying your garment bag and securing it on the hook in the backseat before opening the door for you. You arrived on campus exactly one minute before you were supposed to, Nick dropping you off to go find parking. He reached across the console to grab your wrist as you exited the car. “Hey,” he said as you stuck your head back in. “I love you.”
You felt a rush of warmth through your chest that had nothing to do with the temperature which was nearing 90 degrees. “Love you too, Nick,” you said, sending a kiss through the air as you reached back to grab your cap and gown. “See you soon.” You closed the door and headed towards the area where your classmates were lining up and fixing their tassels, throwing one last look over your shoulder to catch him shedding his jacket before pulling away from the curb causing you to shake your head and grin. Told you so.
Like with most major life events, time on your graduation day flew more quickly than seemed fair for how many hours you put in for your degree. In a whirlwind of pictures with your classmates, some of whom you’d be working with at Boston General, speeches from the Dean and the head of the nursing program, acknowledgement of all the students graduating with honors- yourself included, two stars next to your name in the program indicating Magna Cum Laude- the ceremony flew by until it was time to receive your diploma. This is it. I’m really graduating…I’m really a nurse… I did it. The realization had been hitting you in waves over the last month, but now, standing in your row as the line of new graduates ahead of you started to move, it finally became real. Your name was called and you strode across the stage with tears of pride in your eyes, hand outstretched to shake with the Dean when a sudden ear splitting sound made your head whip around towards the crowd.
Eyes going as wide as saucers, you couldn’t contain the laughter that burst forth. There, in the middle of the audience which was slowly melting under the sun, many of them fanning themselves with their programs, was Nick, standing on his chair with his thumb and pointer finger between his lips to release another whistle. “That’s my nurse!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. His sleeves were pushed up and his tie was loose around his throat, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his tattoo peeking up over the collar. His grin ran from cheekbone to cheekbone, the look of absolute pride on his face completely eclipsing the clear discomfort he was in from the heat and his insistence upon wearing his one and only suit for your big day. With a chorus of giggles and “aw how sweet” mixed in with whispers of “Ugh, can you even believe that?” and dirty looks, the crowd reacted to Nick’s display of excitement. You shook your head, still not sure what you did to deserve him, but damn glad about whatever it was. The crowd quieted down and the next name was called, followed by the next until there were no more students, only graduates.
Once tassels were turned and caps were tossed, you made your way through a sea of congratulatory hugs and more pictures until you found him standing off to the side, hands in his pockets and adoration on his face. “Hey trouble,” you said, giving him a smirk. “That was some stunt out there.” You cocked your head towards where the empty chairs still covered the field.
He shrugged, smile growing. “I dunno what you’re talkin’ about.” He pulled his hands out to pull you closer.
“Oh you don’t, huh?” You asked, a few strands of hair sticking to your forehead from the heat and the sweat.
He smoothed them away and trailed his fingers down your face. “Nope. I was just givin’ you the applause you deserve, that’s all.”
“You’re too much, Tortano, you know that?” You closed your eyes and rose to your toes to bump noses with him.
“Yeah,” he said, taking your hand in his. “I know. C’mon,” he gave a light tug on your hand. “There’s a…” you watched him struggle to come up with the right word before motioning with his other hand towards a gazebo in the distance, away from all the festivities. “That thing,” he pointed to the small white structure which housed a swing.
“Gazebo,” you supplied the word for him.
“Yeah, that thing, smarty pants,” he squeezed your hand and dipped his head to kiss your temple. “Let’s go over there for a minute, huh?”
I’ll go anywhere you want for as long as you want, Nick. “Yeah,” you said. “Sounds good.” You let him lead you over, unzipping the front of your robe so that you could get a little relief from the heat. While all around campus, families and friends were gathering around their new graduates, you were more than content to bask in the moment peacefully with Nick. He’s all the family I need.
“Thank you for always believing in me, Nick,” you leaned into him, head tilted to rest on his shoulder. You’d slipped your shoes off, your legs pulled up onto the swing, your robe hiked up and your cap discarded with your heels. The breeze that came through the gazebo was in no way cool, but the reprieve from the sun and Nick’s solid embrace mixed with the excitement of the day made you sigh through a relaxed smile. You turned your face to kiss the ink on his neck. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know that?”
“Nah, nah no way, you definitely woulda…” the arm he had around your waist tightened, his grip gathering the shiny royal blue polyester fabric of your rented gown as he kissed the top of your head. “I had nothin’ to do with this, this was all you an’ that brilliant brain a’ yours.”
“Nuh uh, Nick,” you picked your head up to look at him, shaking it back and forth. Your fingers found their way into his hair, raking through the meticulous coif to loosen a few locks. An involuntary breath slipped from his lips as your nails traveled down his scalp to grip the curled ends, giving a slight tug. The breath turned into a smiling laugh, warming his eyes to the melting point. “I mean it. This program was rough. And it was long and I know I wasn’t always easy to deal with-”
“‘Specially around your midterms,” he joked, brushing the tip of his nose against yours and earning a light smack on the shoulder.
“Hey, I’m tryin’ to be serious here Tortano.” You tried and failed to keep a straight face, nose crinkling and lips twitching despite how tightly you pressed them together, too happy to even pretend that you were anything but.
“So’m I… you were a nightmare every time you had an exam.” He nodded and you smacked him again though you were both laughing now. He flexed his arms around you to hold you closer, keeping you out of striking range and against his chest, where your giggles spilled out onto his now wrinkled shirt. “But I always knew you’d ace ‘em,” he said softly, lips pressed behind your ear as his knuckles swept up and down your spine.
Your chest swelled because you knew he was telling the truth. Even when you were stressed beyond belief, buried under piles of notes and textbooks, flashcards and empty coffee mugs, he never doubted that you’d pass with flying colors. “See? See, Nick that’s what I’m talking about. You got me through this. When I doubted myself you didn’t. When I wanted to quit-”
“I told you you were crazy.”
“And I was.” He nodded. “And you knew it.” Another nod. “And you loved me anyway.”
“I did.” He released you from his clinch and you sat up. His arms were still around you but relaxed enough so he could lean back and look into your eyes. “I do.” He swallowed, forehead furrowing as he took a deep breath. “I always will.” He shifted then, both arms coming back around to your front. One fell to his lap in the space between your bodies. The other raised so that he could slide his palm up the side of your cheek, thumb dragging slowly over your bottom lip as it dropped open beneath his touch. You felt your heart stop at the emotion in his eyes. “I’m always gonna love you.”
“I’m always gonna love you too, Nick,” you whispered breathlessly, feeling yourself being pulled by the tides in the deep pools of his eyes. There was nothing in the world truer than what you’d just said. The past two and a half years had been the happiest of your life despite the hard times. Nick had made good on his promise not to get involved with another outfit, and even found a way to work for his freedom from the mob. He’d gotten a job at a local mechanic shop changing oil and filters and brake pads while he learned how to perform more technical repairs, and through an old connection- Big Al, once a button man in the mob himself who now owned a mostly legitimate garage- he’d struck a deal: two years of service to the family, no questions asked. They need a car gone? It was Nick’s responsibility to make sure that happened. Cleaned? Guess who was scrubbing blood stains out of floor mats? It wasn’t entirely safe, but it was a hell of a lot safer than the things he’d been doing when you met, and after the end of the second year came and went with absolutely no more contact from Big Al or any other known Mafioso, you could finally say that Nick was out. Done. Just like he’d told you.
“Yeah?” he asked, one eyebrow quirked, hand still cradling the side of your face.
You nodded and turned just enough to kiss the meaty heel of his thumb. “Yeah. Always.”
“In that case, I got a question for ya.” The way that he was smiling down through his lashes, teeth visible between his lips told you that he was up to something.
“Oh yeah?” He nodded and dropped his palm from your cheek to your hands, lacing the fingers of his right hand with the digits on your left. “Alright, Tortano, shoot.”
His eyes moved quickly over your face and he leaned in to press his lips to yours for the briefest of seconds before taking his shot. “Will you marry me?” The question was out before his lips had left yours.
What? Time completely stopped then, the surrounding sounds on campus fading away until all you could hear was the racing of your heartbeat as it thudded wildly against your ribs and expelled the air from your lungs. “What…Nick, are you-“ Tears were flooding your bottom lids making it hard to focus on him, but you blinked them away. Is he? Is this…is this happening? “Are you s-”
“I’m sure,” he cut you off, tone completely steady. “I been sure for a long time.” He slid his fingers through yours, knuckles catching before he pulled them completely free of your grasp. “Wanted to wait til you were done with school to ask you,” he chuckled nervously. “Didn’t wanna wait that long though.” You joined his chuckling with a euphoric sound of your own. “Didn’t wanna wait any longer than I had to.” He fiddled in his pocket until he produced a small, black velvet box from his pocket and a gasp from your lips. “I know what I want,” he said, prying open the small container. “I want you. Always.” Nestled inside the box was a white gold band set with an oval shaped diamond, small and simple. Sunlight bounced off of the facets of the stone and sent reflections dancing across Nick’s cheekbones. He spoke your name then, slowly and intentionally, as he pinched the ring between his thumb and pointer finger and gave it a wiggle to free it from the cushioning. “Marry me,” he said, letting the empty box drop and not caring where it landed.
It had already been one of the best days of your life. You’d finally fulfilled your dream of finishing nursing school, graduating at the top of your class and with an offer of employment at your first choice hospital. And now, the man who held your whole heart was holding a ring and asking you to wear it. “Yes,” the small word flew from your lips without even thinking. Without even needing to think.
His face broke open in a smile so bright it rivaled the unrelenting sun. “Yes?” He asked, the steadiness gone from his voice as his fingers started to shake.
“Yes,” you said again, nodding emphatically, cheeks already sore from the overflow of happiness you were expressing. “Yes, Nick!” You reached for his face with both hands, surging forward to capture them in a kiss, pouring every ounce of love you’d ever felt for him into it. His arms came around you as he kissed you back, a sound escaping him that was half moan, half relieved sigh. If he thought for one minute I wasn’t gonna say yes he’s crazy. You felt more warm, salty tears slipping passed your closed lids. He’s gonna be my husband. I’m gonna be Mrs. Tortano… I really do get to keep him. Always.
You’d have stayed locked in that kiss until the sun set and rose again, but Nick broke away, his own onyx eyes damp as he rested his forehead against yours. “You just made me the happiest man on the goddamn planet.” His voice was quiet and unsteady but clearly brimming with happiness. He kissed you again, this one slow and purposeful, sending waves of emotion through your being. He pulled back again and wiped at his eyes with the back of the hand that still held your ring. “Can I…?” He held the small diamond up and glanced down at your left hand.
You nodded. “Yeah, Nick, you can…” your small head shake flung a few tears from your cheeks as your joy changed the tone of your voice. You gave him your hand and he slid the thin band over your third finger, giving a slight push to clear your knuckle. You both took a few seconds to look at the stone on your finger, basking in its meaning.
“Nick?” You looked up first, his eyes meeting yours at the sound of his name. He leaned forward and kissed the crest of your cheek, where another stray tear had started to roll down.
“Hmm?” he hummed against your skin before pulling back to look in your eyes.
“Let’s go home,” you said, pressing your lips to his cheek in a sweet kiss mirroring the one he just gave you before moving them closer to his ear and dropping your voice to as wicked a tone as you could conjure. “So I can show you how happy I am.”
“Happy wife, happy life, ain’t that what they say?” He laughed, standing from the swing and helping you up too.
“Hey, I’m not your wife yet, Nicky,” you set him with the same stern look you used to give him when he called you his nurse before you’d earned the R.N. by your name. It melted almost immediately. “But this time? Feel free to rush me.”
Warnings: None really, unless you count a bitchy hostess
A/N: A big, giant, massive thank you to @the-blind-assassin-12 for writing 10.8 & MSFU (bitch this series REALLY needs a title) and letting me play in her sandbox.
this was supposed to be a rant in the tags but then this happened.
You had been looking forward to tonight, it felt like has been too long since you and Nick had been able to go out on a date, a real one, not just walking over hand in hand to the Chinese place a block away, getting takeout and walking back to your place to share the meal on your couch while watching a movie. It seemed like work, or something else, always came up, making you postpone.
That wasn't the case tonight.
You gave yourself a quick once over on the mirror, checking your mascara, and lipstick, running the pad of your thumb on the corner of your mouth to catch any stray color. Then looked at the dress you had slipped in, a dark blue, almost black frock dress that fell just an inch short of your knees, smoothing the material down and double checking for any stray lint you might've caught while getting ready, your mind drifting to a few days ago when he had asked you out.
0o0o0o0o0
You were standing in front of the kitchen sink, phone hooked up to the portable speaker and your favorite playlist on shuffle, scrubbing at a stubborn piece of burnt sauce that would not come off the ceramic dish when you felt Nick’s arms circling your waist, pulling you against his chest, hooking his chin on your shoulder.
“You don't gotta go in Friday, right? How ‘bout I take you out? Some place nice.” he punctuated every word with a kiss, starting on your shoulder and going up your neck, to the spot behind your ear.
“What’s the special occasion Tortano? Am I forgettin’ an anniversary or somethin’?” you asked, rolling your hed to the side to give him beter access to your neck
“No, there ain’t no occasion” he said as his hands started to roam, his left hand slipping under the loose shirt that you had thrown on when you had gotten home, his touching just a tease, “Can’t I just take my girl out cuz I wanna? Cuz she deserves it? Cuz you do, you deserve the world.”
His hand move and gripped with purpose, coming up to cup at your breast as the other teased the skin above the elastic of your shorts,
"Nick we can't ...you still shouldn't" a moan broke free as he sunk his teeth on the crook of your neck, "shouldn't be doing any strenuous ...you'll irritate the stiches."
“Not gonna do anythin’ to irritate the stitches,” he murmured into the shell of your ear as his hand slipped past the elastic of your shorts, “promise.”
0o0o0o0o0
"You look real nice tonight," his voice pulling you out of the memory, you looked at him through the mirror, his eyes giving you a slow once over, the glint in them adding fuel to the warmth that was spreading through your body at the memory, his tongue coming out to swipe at his lips, "then again you always look nice."
You're one to talk, you thought as you saw him struggle with the ends of the dark tie that completed the charcoal gray ensemble that he took out every once in a while.
"You clean up real nice too Tortano." You said, smiling as you walked over to stand in front of him, gently pushing his hands away and taking over the knotting of his tie. After a few quick loops and pulls you were nestling and adjusting the knot to the base of his throat. He pulled you into his arms, resting his hand on your hips, leaning down to press his lips against yours and pulling away before the kiss could get too heated.
“C’mon, we better get going if we wanna make our reservation.”
He took your hand and walked you out of the house, taking a minute to make sure that everything was locked, testing the door knob and deadbolt a few times. Then turned and rested a hand on the small of your back and guided you to his car, opening the door for you to climb in, closing it then walking around the back and climbing in himself.
You made small talk as he drove, talking about some of the people you had to deal with at the department store, groaning when you told him about one particular customer that had wasted a good portion of your time asking for the exact thing that you were handing him, it wasn’t until you turned the box around that he accepted that it had been in fact what he was looking for.
“Soon, they ain’t gonna be any of that. Ain’t gonna be dealin’ with jerks, or restockin’ shelves, soon, you’re gonna be savin’ lives and helpin’ people.”
He said as he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a quick kiss to the back of it, a smile pulling at the corners or your lips. The scenery outside your window changed gradually, until you were in the nicer part of the city,
“Nick? I thought you said we were going to--”
“All I said was I was takin’ you out, never sad where to.”
Your eyes felt like saucers as he pulled up to the restaurant, stopping at the entrance and climbing out, walking past a kid in dark slacks, white shirt and burgundy vest. You thought you saw the kid give Nick a look, the kind you give the gum at the bottom of your shoe but it was gone in a flash as he climbed in to take Nick’s place behind the wheel. If Nick saw it he didn’t say anything, it bothered you though. Who was he to look at Nicky that way, he didn't know him from eve, didn't know--couldn't even begin to guess the things Nick had gone through and overcome.
When you saw Nick rest his hand on the arm of the second valet, nudging him to the side saying a quick "I got 'er." You smiled and decided you weren’t gonna let some snotty nosed kid ruin your evening with Nick.
He placed your hand on the crook of his elbow and walked you up the handful of steps, through the large glass doors and towards the hostess, who was directing another couple.
When she turned back and her eyes fell on you her smile faltered, looking between the two of you, the way her eyes scrutinized you made you feel like she knew you had bought your dress and heels on sale after homecoming season, that the makeup you wore was all bought at a drugstore, that the stone in your earrings were cubic zirconia. Her judgemental stare making you feel out of place even before you stepped in.
“Nick. Tortano.” He said when she didn’t ask for his name.
She turned her attention at Nick, the corners of their mouths lifting is a faux smile,
"I'm sorry …sir," she said give him a once over, her eyes resting on the ink that peeked out from the buttoned collar of his shirt for a second too long, "we don't have a reservation under that name."
You noticed the way Nick's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Check again." His voice hard and commanding, in your neck of the woods the look he was giving her would've been enough to make crowds part like the red sea. Here, the hostess didn't even bat an eye.
The hostess gave the book in front of her a cursory glance, then met Nick's eyes, saying again in that same false polite tone,
"No reservations with that name….sir."
You could see the nerve in Nick's cheek jump and it never meant anything good. You squeezed his arm, leaning over and whispering so that only he could hear,
"C'mon Nicky, we can go somewhere else."
"We shouldn't have'ta" he said, never looking away from the hostess and her holier than thou stare.
"There probably aren't any tables available," you tried, pulling a little more insistently on his arm.
"That's why I called and made a reservation, weeks ago."
"C'mon Nicky, let's just go, this place isn't for us."
That made him look at you, you could see the rebuttal on the tip of his tongue but the hostess was quicker,
"You should listen to your date, this place isn't for ...people like you."
Nick's head turned back to the hostess so fast you swore he gave himself whiplash, saw and felt the tensing in his shoulders,
"Nick...please" you whispered, pressing your forehead to his shoulder and felt the second the fight drained out of him, his arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder, as his lips press against your temple and guided you out of the restaurant.
You didn't know what to make of the fact that the valet already had Nick's car ready and waiting, holding out the keys for Nick to take. You took it for the small blessing that it was as you climbed into the passenger seat , grateful that you didn't need to stand around waiting in this place anymore than you had to, as Nick took the keys from the valet a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary, you wanted to tell him that it wasn’t the kids fault, he was just doing his job taking and bringing the cars around, but you thought you saw the kid turned up his nose at Nick as he climbed in, put the car in gear and sped away.
The ride back was a quiet one, you wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you could just go somewhere else but the white knuckle grip he had on the steering wheel made you pause. You knew Nick would never take out his frustrations on you, but you didn’t want to add to whatever it was he was feeling right now.
You ended up at the diner a few blocks from your place, walking hand in hand through the heavy glass door, the familiar sound of the bell tinkling overhead felt like a soothing balm. Carl, or as everyone around these part called him Uncle Carl, looked up from his incessant wiping of the counter and whistled,
"Ey Nicky, where you kids coming from all dolled up like that?"
Nick didn't answer, just kept walking to your usual booth, hand slipping out of yours without resistance as you walked over to the counter, your heels sounding too loud on the linoleum floor as Carl looked after him.
"Bad night?" He asked when you leaned on the polished formica, letting out a sigh and a small nod, not wanting to revisit in any way shape or form the events from earlier in the evening.
"Usual?" Carl asked when you didn't say anything.
"Yeah, thanks Carl." You pushed off the counter and walked over to the booth, slipping into the seat across from him. You sat in silence for a few minutes, Nick not looking anywhere other than his folded hands.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, a beat later.
"Nick?"
"I'm sorry… the way that bit--"
"Nick, that wasn't your fault." You interrupted him, trying to catch his eye..
"We shoulda stayed, shoulda--" he argued and you could hear him winding himself up again
"No, Nick we shouldn't've," you reached over and took his hands in yours, making him look up and meet your gaze for the first time since you left the restaurant, "any place that...treats anyone like that lady did, isn't a place for us."
Nick squeezed your hand, bringing it up and kissing the inside of your wrist.
“‘Sides, I read that the portions are small, over priced, and that they serve their meat raw!’ that got a chuckle out of him and it warmed your heart to see the cloudy expression lift from his face.
"How'd I get so lucky gettin' a girl like you?"
"I dunno Tortano, but you ain't gettin rid'a me"
Nick smiled to himself, and low, so low you couldn't be sure you heard him right, said,
"That's the plan."
You were gonna ask what he had said when Carl came by the booth, setting down a couple plates of pie and coffee, and silverware, tucking the round plastic tray under his arm.
"Cheer up Nicky, girl like this," he said, nodding to you, "she's worth the trouble."
Nick's smile widen, finally reaching his eyes, wrinkling the corners and turning it into his megawatt smile that never failed to leave you slightly breathless.
"Don't I know it." He said, holding your gaze as Carl patted him on the back.
"You kids need anything else, let me know."
"Thanks Carl" you said, picking up a fork as he turned and walked away, across from you Nick did the same.
You eat in companionable silence, soundtracked by the intermittent sound of metal gently clicking against porcelain, Its nice and truth be told you preferred it a million times over being in a stuffy room with countless other strangers.
You were halfway through your coffee when Nick set his cup of coffee harder than was strictly necessary making you look up from where you were chasing a stray piece of crust.
"Nick?" You asked as he wiped his mouth and balling the soiled paper napkin in his hand and dropping next to his plate with his own half eaten slice, pulling out his phone from the inside pocket of his jacket, flicking and touching the screen as he slid out of the vinyl seat, holding out his free hand to you.
"C'mon."
"Nicky, what's wrong?" You asked, setting your fork down and taking his hand, he gently pulled you to your feet with one final press to the screen of his phone, he set it face down on the table, pulling you close and wrapping his free arm around your waist, yours coming to rest on his chest, and he began to sway as the sound of a trumpet started to pour from the tiny speaker, a soft piano and bass joining a few notes later.
"Nuthin's wrong," he whispered against your ear, his voice husky, making you feel warm all over, "as’a matter’a fact everythin's right."
His arm tightened around your waist as he swayed you to the soft melody, his forehead pressed against yours as he shifted his weight from foot to foot as he spun the both of you in a small circle, pulling back so that he could spin you, then pulling you back, placing the hand he was holding around his neck, your other hand coming up to join it, as both of his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you close as you continued to sway.
You had been looking forward to tonight's date, and even though it probably wasn't what Nick had originally planned, you couldn't think of no better way to end the evening, slow dancing with Nick in some hole in the wall diner.
Summary: Nick Tortano is done. Out. Gone legit. What did he have to do to get there, and what is he going to do now with his (and your) freedom and safety restored? He’s got a few things in mind for him and his nurse.
Warning: mentions and descriptions of violence, blood, light steam which will eventually shed that “light”
Part One: 10,800
Part Two: Make Somethin’ For Us
Part Three: Always
I've had some sangria and been wondering, does Nicky (10.8k & MM) break out the Italian when he gets riled up???? I need to know these things
Un’ottima domanda, amico mio!
And the answer varies depending on which Nick we’re talking about.
Made Man Nick doesn’t. His Italian needs work. He knows a few phrases, has the pronunciation down perfectly, can understand it (if the person is speaking slowly and not using slang) but he’s not comfortable enough with it to slip into it emotionally.
10,800 Nick (shit this series really needs a name) DOES know Italian VERY well, and yes he does fall back on it when he’s worked up. He made the mistake of doing so during an argument with you once, but that only made matters worse... welllll temporarily worse.
He gripped his hair and shook his head, a long slow humorless laugh puffing from his lips. “Mi fai impazzire a volte.”
“What did you just say, Nick?!” One eyebrow was arched high, your arms crossed over your chest.
Shit. He forgot that you’d started using that damn duolingo app. You’d been practicing your Italian as sort of a surprise for him, and he instantly felt bad for saying what he did about you. Oh, shit, I’m an idiot.
“Nothin’, I’m sorry, I-“ he dropped his hands from his head and strode around the table to your side, reaching for your arms to uncross them.
You side stepped his transparent attempt at backpedaling. “It wasn’t nothin’, Nick. Impazzire? Pazza? Crazy, huh? I’m crazy? Me, I’m the crazy one?” You poked yourself in the chest sending your hospital badge swinging. “You know, Tortano, you can’t just Italian your way out of every conversation anymore!”
He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help it: a smile teased the corners of his mouth as his tongue flicked out to wet his lips and he swallowed. God she’s perfect. He didn’t know how he got so lucky to end up with someone like you- someone who challenged him and always made him want to be better. Someone who loved him enough not to blink an eye at the mistakes he’s made, who loved him enough to fight with him, who loved him enough to go out of their way to learn a second goddamn language.
“What is funny right now?” You tilted your chin slightly, but didn’t move away as Nick and his smile came closer, didn’t flinch as he tucked his pointer fingers into the crooks of your elbows to gently tug them away from your body.
“Nothin’,” he said again, swooping I’m to kiss your cheek before you could duck away. He pulled your arms and you let him, his hands falling to your waist, thumbs slipping into the loops of your jeans.
“Nick,” you blew out a breath that was only half exasperation.
“Ti amo,” he whispered into your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth briefly. “Ti amo come un pazzo.”
