Title: Castro
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1442
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil Grissom and Nick Stokes
Warnings: AU and Fluff
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Beta: jayceepat and podga for their invaluable help in the Americanisation of the fic and their insightful comments, which I may well have ignored! I thank high_striker for his wonderful icons. I am indebted to them all. Any errors are mine.
A/N: Fluff wasn't that far away!

Gil was, in equal parts, happy and annoyed.

Happy - because they’d managed to get a few days off together and decided on three days in San Francisco, definitely a favourite place of both of them.

Annoyed – because they were in San Francisco, or more accurately, Castro.

They loved the atmosphere of the stately city after the razzmatazz of Las Vegas. You’d be hard pressed to find two cities so diametrically opposed. Las Vegas was, for the most part, make believe; San Francisco was real.

They stayed in the old part of the St Francis hotel. The atmosphere a little old worldly, with slow elevators and windows that you could actually open and the bed which was made for fucking and sleeping. They’d had to test ride the fucking part out…quite a few times.

They’d spent time in Golden Gate Park. The gallery and museum of interest to both of them and the Japanese Tea garden, where they sipped tea and felt peaceful; away from the general detritus of their working life in Sin City.

But, as always, and Gil always forgot it was coming; Nick wanted to pay a visit to Castro. Now Gil had nothing against the suburb. He was gay himself, for God’s sake, so it wasn’t that the people in Castro were either queer and proud and let it be known, or the tourists who wanted to see the spectacle, rather like a visit to the zoo.

It had nothing to with that at all. No, the problem was Nick. His Nick….. His lover, his partner…the recurring theme in all of this? HIS.

Neither of them were exhibitionists and it would take a very keen sense of gaydar to sniff them ‘out’ in Vegas. Of course, everyone knew, but their life was private and they did nothing to attract attention to their sexuality.

But in San Francisco, it was a much more relaxed atmosphere for gays and for them personally. They could be affectionate in public. They wouldn’t kiss in public, but might occasionally hold hands, or make a gesture towards one another that would leave an onlooker in no doubt as to their relationship.

Except in Castro.

In Castro, Nick became ‘Gay Man’. He’d latch onto Gil like a limpet; holding his hand, maybe linking his arm with Gil’s. He’d push himself into Gil’s side as they walked and worst of all, for Gil – he’d look at Gil in what could only be described as a flirtatious fashion. He’d lower his head slightly and look up fluttering his, not inconsiderable, eyelashes; his cheeks would blush and instead of his open smile he’d just have a ghost of a smile, an intimate ‘I know’, sort of smile on his lips.

The effect on Gil was two fold. He loved it; it was no secret between the two of them that Gil was the more dominant of them and Nick the submissive, but only in general terms, they did not follow the teachings of the infamous Lady Heather. This display of submissiveness enflamed Gil; he would always demand to penetrate Nick following such times.

On the other hand…Gil was infuriated. Oh, not by the tourists who would stare and occasionally snigger if they saw the display. No. The reason Gil became somewhat belligerent was because of the other gay men.

Once it was obvious that Nick was gay they couldn’t, wouldn’t, leave him alone…not that they would touch him or encroach on Gil’s ‘territory’, no, but they very plainly lusted after the divine creature hanging on Gil’s arm. Actually, in some ways it was flattering. Nick had chosen him when he could have had anyone he wanted, and that also applied to members of the female persuasion. Nick would only have to beckon and they would fall at his feet.

And that was it; the looks of desire for Nick; the looks of envy at Gil (okay, he wasn't actually averse to those particular looks; after all, he had won the prize and was very confident of keeping it). But it seemed to Gil that every gay guy in the immediate vicinity of Castro…and there were more than a few…was lusting after Nick. HIS Nick.

He wouldn’t deny Nick his little foray into this gay world. He just wished Nick was a little less attractive, a little less obvious…who was he kidding? He was the smug bastard who had Nick on his arm and half wrapped around him and so what if a PDA made him a little uneasy, because he was so unused to it; he would endure it for Nick’s sake.

Of course he would.

So, their stroll around the shops and boutiques did not result in any purchases, but Gil lost count of how many men had openly, and surreptitiously, eyed first Nick and then himself …and a lot of the men were seemingly with partners, or dates, or at least other men. Had they no sense of propriety? Even he, at the height of his awkward, ‘don’t know how to go about this gay thing’, knew that he should always pay full attention to Nick when he was with Nick.

In truth that part of it had come very easily. When he was with Nick in the beginning, he couldn’t look at anyone else, and then he didn’t want to look at anyone else, and now he didn’t need to look at anyone else. He had everything he’d ever wanted in Nick. But these guys pissed him off and he wanted to swat them away like flies.

When they came to a little street café, just as they arrived a couple stood up and vacated a table for two. So Gil guided Nick to a seat and took the other himself. They ordered coffees and pastries, and Gil basked as Nick gave him his exclusive attention.

As they finished up their coffee Gil leaned over the table and smiled at his lover. “We should get a taxi back to the hotel because I have a very pressing need to fuck you, Nicky. I think it only fair to warn you, that foreplay may not be on the agenda this afternoon. I may go straight for the main attraction.”

“That so?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you can’t say you didn’t warn me, I guess.”

“No. You get the check Nicky, while I go take a piss, while I still can.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Nick leaned over the table towards Gil, not close enough to kiss, but close enough to telegraph his desire to the people surrounding them, and in Gil's, not so humble opinion, probably the entire population of the bay area.

Gil leaned towards Nick, his action mirroring Nick’s and once again, also in his humble opinion, ensuring that everyone in the bay area knew that HE was the one who was going to be having Nick in the not so distant future, and not them. He dragged himself away from the table and made his way to the bathroom at the back of the cafe.

He returned not five minutes later and he could have cursed out loud. Nick was still seated in the same place but was obviously being hassled by not one but two men, one on either side of him.

“Nicky?”

“Hey babe, I was just telling these guys about our wedding last year.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, seems like they want to do the same thing.”

“That right?”

“Oh yes, I would just love to be married, of course, I’d have to find myself a husband first.”

“Oh, you guys aren’t together?” Of course they’re not, they’re after Nick. HIS Nick.

“Oh, God, him? Us? I don’t think so, he’s such a drama queen and he demands, like, one hundred percent fidelity; you know what I mean?”

“As a matter of fact I do, because that’s what I demand of Nick and he demands of me.”

“Really, there’s no chance then?”

“Absolutely none.”

“That’s such a shame dear, it really is; ‘Nick’ here is just so gorgeous….”

“…and mine.”

“Yeah, okay, okay, you can’t blame me for trying.”

“I suppose not….”

“…would you mind not talking about me as if I wasn’t here?”

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just establishing rights….”

“I am quite capable of repelling unwanted advances, thank you. Guys, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I’m about to be well and truly fucked and have no time to spend with you in idle gossip. Good day to y’all.” Nick’s Texan accent oozed out of him as he dismissed the two men beside him and stood up, his smouldering look burning Gil’s retinas and simultaneously heating up his groin.

“Taxi?”

“Taxi.”

The End