Pairing: Greg Sanders/Don Flack
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: NY
Author's Note: Set pre-CSI: Vegas when Greg is still living in NYC.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Don Flack, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
***Don looked around as he and Greg entered the young man's apartment; he hadn't expected it to be so neat, or so tastefully furnished. Everything here spoke of money; Greg obviously wasn't some kid who had worked his way up from the streets.
"Make yourself at home," Greg told him, locking and bolting the door behind him and tossing his keys on a table near the door. "It's kind of a small place, but since I live by myself, I don't need a whole lot of space. And I'm not at home much during the day, anyway."
"I meant to ask you before -- what do you do?" Don sat down, taking off his coat and draping it over one of the two chairs on either side of the couch. "I could be wrong, but this place reeks of money, Greg. You're not some guy off the street working at a penny-ante job."
"I'm not," Greg said softly, sitting down next to Don and turning his upper body to face the other man. "I hate to say that I'm a rich kid, but that's about the long and short of it. I'm interning in a crime lab here in New York. I just graduated from Stanford last year."
"A crime lab?" Don's brows rose; it was a shame that this gorgeous young man didn't work for the same lab that he spent so much time working with. Maybe he would have to try to change precincts, just for the chance to see Greg more. "Your job might intersect with mine."
"What do you do?" Greg asked, looking curious. "I'd have asked you before, but I figured if you wanted me to know, you'd tell me. I don't think you're a skeezy drug dealer or anything like that -- my first guess was that you're a cop."
"Your first guess would be correct, pretty boy," Don said with a surprised laugh. "Most people don't guess that. Do I just seem like a cop, or what?" He was interested in just why Greg would have thought that; he usually had to tell people what he did for a living. They never guessed.
"I guess I'm just used to being around cops," Greg said with a laugh and a shrug. "I've never really wanted to be one, but I work with them every day. I'm kind of comfortable around them -- and I've learned how to recognize the signs pretty well."
"So if I hadn't been walking into a gay bar, would you have thought I was into guys?" Don asked, laughing. "No, don't answer that. I don't think I'm too overt about my tastes. But I could have pegged you even if you hadn't been looking good enough to eat."
"I-I was?" Greg stammered, his dark eyes widening. Before the young man could say another word, Don leaned forward, sliding his arms around Greg's slim waist, pulling that slender body against his own and moving a hand up Greg's leg to curl around his thigh.
"Yes, you were," Don murmured, tilting Greg's face up to his. "All I wanted to do was drag you into a back room and have my way with you -- but I thought it'd be more comfortable to wait until we had access to a bed. I don't want you to be too sore in the morning."
S-sore?" Greg's eyes had widened still more; to Don's surprise, he looked very young and frightened. He might not have been expecting things to escalate so quickly, but Don knew that he was incapable of holding himself back any longer.
"Oh yeah, you might have a little bit of a hard time walking tomorrow," Don whispered into his ear, his tone becoming husky. One hand moved up Greg's thigh, up to his stomach and under his shirt, pushing the fabric up, Don's fingers skimming over Greg's nipples.
Greg arched his back, moaning softly, his head falling back, his eyes closing. Don drew in a sharp breath; he was sure that he'd never seen anyone look so beautiful, so completely desirable. Greg was all but offering himself -- and he was a gift that Don intended to help himself to.
It only took him seconds to have Greg's shirt over his head and off, then to push the young man back onto the couch cushions. For a brief moment, he thought that he saw fear flash across Greg's face; but it must have been his imagination, Don told himself as he sat back on his heels.
Surely Greg couldn't be afraid of him? He was a cop, after all. And he hadn't done anything that might make Greg think that he was going to be hurt, had he? Yet that had been fear in the younger man's expression. Don was sure of it.
"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" he murmured, leaning down to brush a kiss across Greg's parted lips. "I don't think I did anything to scare you -- at least I hope I didn't. And you know I won't hurt you. Just relax. I'm not going to do anything you don't like."
Greg nodded, gulping and taking a deep breath. Don thought that he still looked scared, but maybe he was just uneasy about being with someone he'd only met tonight. Greg definitely didn't seem like the kind of guy who made it a habit to bring home men from gay bars.
It only took another few seconds for him to have Greg's jeans unzipped; his mouth was almost watering at the thought of having that gorgeous young body naked in front of him, exposed to his gaze and to the ministrations of his hands and mouth.
He tugged the denim fabric down, over Greg's narrow hips, unable to take his eyes from the young man's body as it was revealed to his eager gaze. Greg was even more beautiful naked than he'd thought he would be, Don told himself admiringly, unable to tear his eyes away.
Was it his imagination again, or did Greg still look nervous? The pink flush in his cheeks had heightened; Don was almost sure that he was ready to jump up and cover his body with his hands. He still looked scared and uncertain, and Don wasn't at all sure that this was what he wanted.
"Something wrong, baby?" he whispered, brushing his lips against the velvety softness of Greg's cheek. "Don't worry. This is going to be great for both of us, I promise. Just relax and enjoy the ride, and let me do all the work, okay?"
Greg nodded, gulping again; this time, Don was absolutely positive that he was not only nervous, but obviously frightened of what was going to happen between them. A suspicion was growing in his mind, and he wasn't taking this any further until that thought was confirmed or denied.
Slowly, he reached out to capture Greg's chin in his hand, forcing the younger man to look up at him. His eyes searched Greg's face, reading the emotions clearly written there. Yes, there was desire, but there was also fear. And he wanted to know why.
"Baby, did somebody hurt you?" he asked, keeping his voice soft and gentle. That was the only reason he could think of for Greg to be so obviously afraid; someone must have done something to him in the past, something that he was trying to force himself to get over.
To his surprise, Greg shook his head emphatically. Don was sure that he was telling the truth; there was no way that he could be so definite if he was trying to lie. "No. Nobody's hurt me." There was something in Greg's tone that made Don feel there was more to this than met the eye.
"Than what's the matter?" he asked again, a frown creasing his brow. "I know there's something wrong, Greg. You wouldn't look so scared if there wasn't. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I'm not going to just get up and leave. I promise I won't."
Greg shook hi head, looking away from him; gently, Don captured the young man's chin again, making Greg look into his eyes. He didn't know what he read in that dark gaze, but the fear in Greg's eyes almost broke his heart. What could have made him look like that?
He wasn't even naked yet, and he already felt exposed, almost as though he'd done something wrong by being here with this young man. Greg was obviously much more fragile than he'd thought; maybe he had made a mistake and he should simply leave.
No, that would hurt Greg and make him feel inadequate -- and Don was sure that once the young man got past whatever was holding him back, "inadequate" wouldn't be a word to describe him. He just had to help Greg break down whatever barrier was between them, that was all.
"Tell me what it is, baby," he pleaded, gently stroking Greg's cheek and smoothing his hair back from his face. "I swear, we'll work through it. Did somebody try to rape you? Did they scare you so much that you're having a hard time being with anybody else?"
Greg shook his head again; he sighed softly, turning his face away from Don's, but not before Don could see his lips tremble before he spoke. "I'm a virgin." The words were flat and expressionless, said in such a low voice that Don didn't think he'd heard correctly at first.
"A virgin?" He blinked in surprise, looking down at Greg, feeling confused. Did it really matter, if Greg wanted to be with him? He'd never been with a man who was a virgin before -- but he was more than confident in his ability to make the first time good for Greg.
So that was why it had seemed that Greg obviously felt uncomfortable with him. No wonder he was scared, if he'd never been with a man before. But Don was still confused -- if Greg didn't want to be with him, why had the young man brought Don home with him?
Something wasn't quite right here, Don told himself. He wasn't going to get up and walk out; that would be a mistake for both of them. But he was going to talk to Greg and find out just what his expectations were -- and what he wanted to happen tonight.
"There's nothing wrong with that, you know," he said softly, reaching out to caress Greg's cheek. "But maybe we'd better talk about this before things go any further." It looked as though they had a lot to talk about before anything happened, Don told himself, sitting back and waiting for Greg to say something.
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