FicWad

Disclaimer: CBS, and the show's various producers owns CSI:Miami and the boys. I don't. Santa's still not listenin to me.

Last warning: Mild slash ahoy! Don't like, don't read. You are warned.

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"So you didn't buy the sweater?" Eric asked. Shift was finally over, and all necessary paperwork that had been piling up was taken care of; he could finally go home with a clear conscience.

"That's what I said, back in the layout room. But apparently you decided to be deaf."

The Cuban could see Ryan rolling his eyes at him without turning to look. Yup, he heard none of what the other man had said earlier. All it took was Ryan speaking the s-word and all that was in Eric's head would turn into white noise. Then again, there were other things that would cause a similar reaction in a totally different context...

Ryan pulled his hands out of the pockets of Eric's jacket, which he was still wearing, to open his locker, all the while continuing his explanation that someone had missed on the first round.

"... niece had an idea to do a theme so my mother bought us all sweaters for Christmas. Haven't actually worn it, but the AC's acting up lately so I thought I'd bring it here where it'll have its uses."

Eric closed his locker, swung his bag over a shoulder and stepped over to the younger man. "Yeah, well, you have it now?"

"It's in... here," Ryan dug into his bag and pulled out a package, wrapped simply with brown paper and adorned by a large white sticker that read 'Merry Christmas!'

"Open it," Eric said, shuffling closer behind Ryan and breaching into his personal space. "At least your mother's taste for color can't be as dazzling as yours."

Ryan gave a backwards jab at Eric's ribs before carefully tearing away the wrapping paper. The Cuban bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently and pressed tighter against the other's warm back for a better view. What emerged from within the package immediately sent Eric into a fit of laughter.

"I take back what I just said. This proves it - color appreciation is hereditary."

Ryan frowned at the sweater in his hands. It was striped light gray and faded orange with a mint-green collar and bright yellow cuffs. There was nothing wrong with it.

Eric's face was buried against Ryan's shoulder; the man could tell from the slight convulsions that the Cuban was trying to stop laughing. During this short time, Eric's right arm had snaked behind the other man's waist and the hand from said arm found its way into the front right pocket of his jeans. Being held this close gave Ryan little room to glare gratifyingly at Eric, who had finally lifted his head to face an annoyed pair of hazel eyes.

"We'll get through this, color disaster and all," the older man said with mock solemnity before leaning in to press a lopsided grin against Ryan's lips.

Slowly giving up his indignation, Ryan turned a little to make their position easier for him to deepen the kiss, while Eric's hand slipped out of the jeans pocket to anchor the younger man around the waist.

"Hey, guys." Calleigh's voice, which carried a rare tone of tiredness, broke the quiet moment for her two colleagues. Ryan's reply was muffled until Eric felt satisfied enough to release him to articulate a proper greeting.

"Hey," the Cuban smile was too wide and awake for someone who, only minutes ago, was as worn out as Calleigh looked.

The blonde ignored his obvious cheer (three guesses why. But she already knew the answer anyway). Something else had caught her eyes.

"Ryan! Did you buy that sweater?"

Eric started laughing again as he walked out of the room.

"Laugh now, Delko, mom bought you one too!"



fin.