Title: Only You: Beginnings
By: Lady Jane
Email: georginaoa@aol.com
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Several episodes through season 2
Summary: In the aftermath of Stalker Gil has the chance to make his fantasies reality and Nick discovers a new turn in himself.
Series/sequel: Hopefully this is only the beginning.
: Notes This is my first fanfic.

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"Grissom!"

Gil started, looking up and blinking Catherine into focus.

"That report must be fascinating. You've been staring at it for fifteen minutes. I had to call your name three times before you heard me."

He looked at the report as if he'd never seen it before, wondering why he was holding it. He truly couldn't remember. He must have been reading it when Ecklie had called.

Noting the dazed look in Grissom's blue eyes, Catherine sat down across from him. "Okay, what's up?"

Grissom sighed and tossed the report on top of his cluttered desk. Taking off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose as he said, "Ecklie called."

"Preliminary reports on the crime scene?" Catherine questioned, knowing dayshift had been called in to handle the case because Nick was a graveyard CSI.

Grissom visibly flinched. Hard to think of Nick's condo as a crime scene. Harder still to think of Nick as a victim. He managed a nod.

"What did Conrad say?"

"Seems my theory was wrong."

"The great Gil Grisson wrong?" Catherine teased.

He glared at her. "Damn it, Catherine, this isn't a joking matter. This is one of our own!"

She held up her hands in a placating manner. "Sorry. I know it's one of our own. I'm worried about Nick, too, but he's safe now. Nigel Crane is in jail."

"That doesn't make it all better," he said curtly.

Catherine opened her mouth, then closed it, uncharacteristicly accepting the jab when she saw the clenching of Gil's jaw. "So you think your theory was wrong? You no longer think Nigel wants to be Nick?"

Grissom shook his head.

"What evidence do you have to the contrary?"

He had to take a deep breath before saying, "Seminal fluid was found in Nick's attic."

"There was no semen found in Jane Galloway's house," Catherine said slowly, "so that means...."

"Exactly."

"Does Nick know?"

"I don't know. I think he suspected." He couldn't help but wonder if that was why Nick had looked so disappointed when he'd tossed out his theory. That look had made him feel as if he'd let Nick down in some way, and maybe he had. He just hadn't wanted to think of Nick as the focus of some sick sexual predator's desire. Not Nick. Not the man he-

Grissom stood abruptly, his chair flying back to bounce off the wall.

Even though she was used to his starts and turns, the action was unexpected enough to startle Catherine. "Gris? Where are you going?" she called as he strode out the door.

But Grissom didn't stop.

Staring after him in astonishment, Catherine finally jumped up and hurried after him. Catching up outside the DNA lab, she grabbed his arm and jerked him to a halt.

Gil said nothing, merely looked at the hand on his arm, then looked at her face, one eyebrow raised.

"What the hell are you doing, Gil?"

"I want to talk to Nigel Crane."

Catherine was already shaking her head. "Bad idea. You know you'll never get near him without a lawyer present."

Grissom speared her with his laser-sharp blue gaze. "We'll see." Pulling his arm free of her grasp he continued on down the hallway.

Catherine raised her hands in frustration as she watched him turn a corner and disappear from sight. Earlier tonight, when they'd gone to the hospital to check on Nick, Grissom had wondered aloud why Nigel Crane hadn't killed Nick, his manner calm and detached as if he were discussing a specimen rather than a member of their team. Now that it was over, Nigel in police custody and Nick safe, Grissom was acting like- Well, she didn't know how to describe the way he was acting.

Would she ever understand that man?

----------

Jim Brass looked over the rim of his coffee cup at the man standing in his doorway. The look on Grissom's face told him this wasn't a social call.

"What are you doing here, Gil?"

"I want to see Nigel Crane."

Brass shook his head. "No can do."

Grissom stepped closer to the desk. "I need to see him, Jim, to talk to him."

Brass set down his coffee. "As much as I'd like to give you time alone with the son of a bitch, I can't. He's only said two things since he quit that freaky 'I am one, who am I' shit, and one of them was to lawyer up."

"Jim-"

"No, Gil. I'm not going to let you do anything that might get this case kicked. You don't want Nicky's stalker out walking around, do you?"

Gil paled.

Brass sighed. "Go home, Gil, and take Nick with you."

Grissom's head snapped up. "He's still here?"

"Right where you guys left him, staring through the glass at the interrogation room where Nigel Crane was earlier."

Gil nodded and turned to leave, then stopped in the doorway and looked back. "What else?"

"Huh?"

"You said Nigel Crane said two things. What else did he say besides asking for a lawyer?"

A look of disgust crossed Brass' face. "Some sick shit about Nick. Trust me, Gil, you don't want to know."

Gil started to protest, then changed his mind. "Maybe you're right."

Brass sighed as he watched his friend walk away. The CSI supervisor was a private men, never letting anyone get too close, but he liked to think he knew Grissom at least a little better than anyone else in the unit. The death of Holly Gribbs had changed Gil, and there was no telling what this would do to him.

Gil was close to Nick, closer than probably anyone realized. The only reason he knew was because of a confession Gil had made after several shots of Jack Daniels one night. It had been after he'd returned to a crime scene and found Nick being held at gunpoint by Amy Hendler, a woman who hadn't even been a suspect in the case. He'd told Brass of his fear at that moment, then later told Brass something that had stunned him.

Brass hadn't been drunk that night. Since New Jersey he'd been careful with the booze, so he remembered every word of Gil's confession. He just wondered if Gil, himself, remembered.

----------

Nick was right where Brass said he was. Grissom entered the room, but the younger man didn't acknowledge his presence, just continued to stare through the two-way mirror into the empty room beyond.

"Nick," Grissom said, putting his hand on Nick's shoulder.

He was completely unprepared for Nick's response.

Nick's reaction was instinctive. With a yelp he shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, spun to his left, then hissed as he reached for the throat of his attacker with his bandaged right hand.

"Nick," Grissom gurgled, both hands trying to loosen the grip of the hand wrapped tightly around his throat. "Stop, Nick. Stop!"

Eyes so dark they appeared black slowly focused, taking in the graying hair, the wide blue eyes, the red face, the hands clutching his own hand where it was squeezing the flesh underneath it.

"Grissom?" Nick questioned in confusion.

Gil managed a faint, "Yes," pulling harder at the hand on his throat. He didn't want to hurt Nick's injured wrist, but he was getting dizzy and beginning to see pinpoint spots in front of his eyes.

"Grissom!" Nick released the older man's throat and jumped back, eyes wide, face pale, body shaking.

Gil was drawing in much needed oxygen.

"Oh, God, Gris, I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought you were Nigel. Oh, God!" Nick covered his face in shame.

"Nick," Grissom said calmly, his voice slightly hoarse. "Look at me, Nicky."

Nick shook his head.

"Yes, Nick. Look at me. Do it!"

Nick slowly lowered his hands, dark eyes full of remorse and suspiciously moist.

"It's okay, Nick. I'm okay. If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I should have thought before I touched you." One corner of Grissom's mouth quirked up ruefully. "You know I'm no good with the living."

Nick managed a watery chuckle. "Yeah, that's true, but you do okay with us."

Grissom considered that. "Except maybe with Sara. Her I don't understand."

"Don't sweat it, man. No one has figured out Sara, not even Catherine."

"That's good to know."

Grissom studied Nick, noting the obvious fatigue, the dark circles under his eyes, the face nearly as pale as the bandage on his forehead. Nick squirmed under the frank scrutiny, feeling as if he was one of Grissom's bugs put under a microscope.

"Why are you still here, Nick?" Grissom asked quietly.

"Oh, man," Nick muttered, looking everywhere but at his boss. How did he explain that he was too scared to leave? He tried to just shrug it off, even though he was fairly certain that wouldn't work.

And he was right.

"Nick?"

"Should've known you wouldn't leave this alone."

"It's not in my nature. I'm a scientist. Ferreting out facts and interpreting them is what I do."

"Yeah, well, I'm not one of your experiments," Nick shot back.

"I never thought you were," Grissom said calmly. "But how can I help if I don't understand the problem?"

Nick sighed in defeat. His pain pill and the adrenaline rush had both worn off, and he was just too tired to keep arguing.

"Look, Gris, even if my place wasn't an active crime scene, I couldn't go back there. Your home is supposed to be the place where you go to get away from all the ugliness in the world. I don't have that sense of security anymore."

"That's understandable, Nick. Nigel Crane didn't just violate your trust. He violated your sanctuary. No one will think less of you for feeling that way."

"Maybe I think less of myself."

"You shouldn't."

Nick tapped his head with one finger. "In here, intellectually, I know that, but it's damned hard to think logically after being stalked and nearly killed by a psycho jumping out of my ceiling."

Grissom swallowed back the sudden nasty taste in his mouth. "So what about a hotel? They have cameras and security guards."

"And how many DBs do we process every year from even the most secure of hotels? And with my luck, they'd put me in Murder Central."

Grissom pursed his lips. "You do seem to be something of a magnet for unfortunate events."

Nick snorted. "Ya think?"

"So being here, surrounded by police officers, most of whom you know, you feel safe."

"Yeah, as safe as I can feel right now."

"Do you think you'd feel safe staying with a friend whose house has an alarm system and no attic?"

Nick shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

Knowing he was playing with fire and putting temptation too close at hand, Grissom made the offer anyway. "Then you can stay with me."

To say Nick was stunned was putting it mildly. All he could do was stare at his boss, dark eyes wide in disbelief.

"I didn't realize the invitation would shock you speechless," Gil said drily.

Nick felt himself blush, an honest-to-God blush. "Sorry. I was just surprised, that's all. I know you don't like people in your house."

"You're not people, Nick. You're a colleague and a friend as well I'd like to think. Am I wrong?"

"No, you're not wrong," Nick said slowly, still somewhat stunned that Gil Grissom had declared himself a friend and not just the boss.

"I know my people skills are lacking-"

Nick snorted.

Grissom smirked, not in the least offended by the humor at his expense. "As I was saying, I know my people skills are lacking, but what kind of a person would I be if I couldn't help a friend in need. I'd like to think I'm not that out of touch with the world around me."

Nick had to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat. This was a side of Gil Grissom he'd never seen before, a side he doubted many had ever seen, and he was a bit awed by the change in the man before him.

"So? Do you want to stay at my house?" Grissom questioned a bit uncertainly.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Thanks, Gris."

Grissom smiled, one of those rare smiles that lit up his eyes. "Good. And I have an extra bedroom, so you won't even have to sleep on the sofa."

Nick smiled then, that killer smile that never failed to make Grissom's heart thump a bit faster. Good Lord, he felt like a teenager again with his first crush on the girl who played second flute in the school band, only multiply that feeling times ten or twenty or a hundred. To make sure Nick noticed nothing inappropriate on his face, Grissom turned towards the door.

"Come on. We'll see if Ecklie is far enough into the processing that we can get away with picking up a few of your things."

"No!"

Grissom stopped and turned back towards Nick, brow furrowed and head slightly cocked to one side, wondering what had brought on that sudden explosion.

"No," Nick repeated thickly. "I can't wear any of those clothes again. I don't know which ones he wore."

"It's all right, Nick," Grissom said gently. "We'll go shopping tomorrow for some new clothes. But what about the meds the doctor gave you?"

Nick patted his jacket pocket. "Right here."

"Then let's go."

With a sense of the surreal, Nick followed Grissom out of the police station. This was weird, even for his life.

---------

Dawn was on the horizon when Grissom parked his Tahoe in his driveway. Nick waited for him to disarm the alarm, then followed him inside the townhouse. His brows drew together when Grissom told him the security code. Something about those numbers was familiar, he just couldn't wrap his tired brain around it at the moment.

Nick stopped in the living room and looked around. He'd only been in Grissom's house once before, during the Strip Strangler case, but it looked pretty much the same. Same short leather sofa, same cluttered coffee table, same unorganized bookshelves, same bland colors, same framed butterfly collection. At least there wasn't a hole in the ceiling. Sameness was good.

Grissom showed him the bedroom he would be using and the bathroom, pointing out the linen closet for towels and the medicine cabinet for a new toothbrush. When they went back into the living room, he asked Nick if he wanted anything to eat.

"Nah, but thanks. I just need some water to take a pain pill, then I'm gonna crash."

"There's bottled water in the fridge. Make yourself at home for as long as you're here."

"Thanks." Nick walked into the kitchen, his movements a bit slow. He opened the refrigerator, then hesitated before reaching for a bottle of water. He closed the door and turned to look at Grissom. "Uh, Gris, you don't actually eat anything out of that refrigerator, do you?"

"It's where I keep my perishables, so yes."

Nick shuddered, thinking of the jars of bugs and various petri dishes he'd seen in there. "Oh, man, that's just not right. Remind me never to eat leftovers out of there."

Grissom considered that for a moment. "I guess other people don't keep experiments in their refrigerators."

"Most people don't have experiments to keep there."

"Hazard of the trade."

"Whatever," Nick muttered before downing a pain pill with a swig of water. "Think I'll turn in now."

Grissom stopped him, saying hesitantly, "Nick, we need to talk."

"Okay, so talk."

"Maybe you should sit down."

Nick looked at him strangely but seated himself on the sofa. His brows drew together when Grissom sat down on the edge of the coffee table, his knees mere inches from Nick's, blue eyes staring intently into dark.

"Nick, what I said earlier, my judgment of Nigel Crane and his motives, I was wrong."

"Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs?"

"Yes. I talked to Ecklie about the evidence at your place."

Nick looked at him expectantly.

"Just like at Jane Galloway's house, Nigel had a peephole into every room in your condo."

"Every room?" Nick questioned faintly. He knew about the bedroom because Nigel had admitted to watching him sleep, but the bathroom....

"Yes, every room." Grissom paused and drew in a deep breath. "Semen was found in your attic. I assume it's not yours?"

Nick shook his head, fighting back a wave of nausea, thanking God he'd turned down the offer of food. He didn't even realize he was close to hyperventilating till Grissom touched his knee and spoke.

"It's okay, Nicky. Deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. It's okay."

"No, it's not okay," Nick said harshly, jumping to his feet and looking down into sympathetic blue eyes. "Nigel Crane raped me in every way but one, and I don't know if it will ever be okay again."

Grissom could only watch helplessly as Nick stalked off into his bedroom, stopping just this side of slamming the door.

--------

Grissom looked at the clock on his nightstand, the only way he had of judging the time because all his windows had blackout shades on them. It was midmorning, and he'd only been asleep maybe a couple of hours, but something had awakened him.

Climbing out of bed he pulled on a pair of sweatpants over his boxers and left the room. Instinct told him where he would find the source of his unease, and he quietly opened Nick's bedroom door just enough to peek in.

It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkened room. That was when he noticed the empty bed. Thinking Nick might be in the bathroom, he started to withdraw, then stopped when he heard a harsh, raspy breath from the other side of the room. Pushing the door open more fully, he entered the room and rounded the bed.

What he saw there made his chest clench painfully.

Wearing nothing but sky blue boxers, Nick sat on the floor, his back to the corner. His legs were drawn up to his chest, his arms were wrapped around his shins, his face was pressed to his knees and he was rocking back and forth, his body occasionally shaking with tightly controlled sobs.

"Oh, Nick," Grissom breathed.

He crouched down in front of Nick, careful not to touch him. "Nicky," he began but wasn't sure where to go from there.

"I thought I was over this." Nick mumbled against his legs. "I was sure it was behind me."

"You have to give yourself time, Nick. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours. Your mind is still processing."

"Not Nigel," Nick whispered. "The other. Nigel brought back the other."

"The other?" Grissom questioned carefully.

"The other. I've never told anyone except Catherine, and the only reason I told her was because she threatened to pull me off the Dylan Buckley case. I couldn't let her do that."

Grissom's mind searched for the name, quickly coming up with the case. Dylan Buckley had been a fourteen year old boy who'd died at his therapist's house. For a while they'd been sure the doctor had been sexually abusing the boy.

Grissom sucked in a breath when he realized the ramifications of what that case could mean to Nick. God, he hoped not. Abuse of a child was intolerable, but the thought that it might have happened to the man before him....

"Nicky? Can you...tell me?"

"She was a last minute babysitter. I was nine years old! I had no idea what she was doing to me. I just wanted Mom to come home and make it better."

"But you didn't tell your parents?"

"No. I didn't know what had happened, but I knew it wasn't right. I felt bad, dirty, and I couldn't tell my folks."

"You did nothing wrong, Nicky!" Grissom said emphatically.

"I know that now, but then...." Face still buried against his legs, Nick shook his head. "By the time I was old enough to understand what had happened, it was just too late. I couldn't tell them then. It would've broken Mom's heart, and Dad would have blamed himself."

"No child should have to go through something like that by himself."

"I learned to deal. Sports helped. I worked out my aggressions on the field. By the time I got to college, the nightmares had finally stopped. Even Dylan Buckley didn't bring them back."

"But now?"

"Now, knowing what Nigel wanted," Nick choked out, his body shuddering, "it all came back."

"I'm sorry, Nicky."

"Not your fault."

"I shouldn't have told you about Nigel Crane. I should have given you time before telling you."

"He killed Jane Galloway as a gift for me. He wore my clothes. He watched me sleep. I already knew. All you did was confirm it."

Grissom ached for Nick in a way he'd never ached before.

"Nicky, I'm going to put my arm around you. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Nick said faintly.

Blue eyes blurry with tears, Grissom sat down beside Nick, his back against the wall. Careful of Nick's injured ribs, he out an arm around the younger man.

"It's okay, Nick. Just let me hold you. Cry if you need to."

"I'm tired of crying," Nick said, his voice muffled. "I cried for years. I don't want to do this again."

"Sometimes what's best for us isn't always what we want."

Nick sniffed and managed a weak half-chuckle. "Another Grissomism."

"Grissomism?"

"Yeah, Grissomism." Nick sighed and finally gave in to the comfort being offered, turning slightly and laying his head on Grissom's shoulder. "Thanks, Gris."

"I do have a first name, you know," Grissom said, soothingly running his hand down the smooth line of Nick's back.

"Gil," Nick sighed, breath warm against Grissom's throat.

Gil continued soothingly stroking Nick's strong back. Eventually he felt the tension ease out of Nick and heard his breathing even out.

"Nick?"

"Hmm?"

"You think you could sleep now?"

Nick sighed. "Yeah, I think so."

He untangled himself from Grissom's hold and stood, then held out a hand to help his boss up. He must have pulled harder than he thought because Grissom stumbled against him. He straightened quickly, but that brief moment of lightly furred chest resting against smooth made Nick blink in surprise because it had felt strangely...good.

Grissom stepped away quickly, thanking God the room was dark enough to hide his flushed face, not to mention the fact that those few seconds of chest-to-chest contact had started a fire down below. He knew it was wrong to be aroused by a man needing only comfort after an ordeal, but his semi-erect cock didn't care about the whys. It knew only that for one moment in time he'd been naked-flesh-to- naked-flesh with the object of his desire.

Nick climbed into bed and settled under the covers, remembering only at the last minute that he couldn't lay on his side because of his ribs. Grissom had the door nearly closed behind himself when he heard Nick.

"Gri- Gil?"

"Yes, Nick?"

"Thanks, man," Nick murmured, already half asleep.

"You're welcome. And, Nicky?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm willing to listen whenever you need to talk."

"'kay."

Grissom let his gaze roam over that handsome face before quietly closing the door and returning to his lonely, solitary bed. Realizing how close they'd come to losing Nicky, it was a while before he was able to find sleep again.

--------

Over bowls of cereal three hours later, Grissom broached the subject.

"Nick, maybe you should make an appointment with Dr Kane."

Nick looked across the table, noting a combination of determination and uncertainty on Grissom's boyish face.

"The department shrink?" Nick questioned.

"Yes."

Nick was quiet for a moment, then said, "Maybe you're right."

Grissom opened his mouth, then closed it so abruptly his teeth clicked together. "Excuse me?"

One corner of Nick's mouth lifted in a smile that lit up his dark eyes. "What? You thought you were going to have to fight me on this?"

"Well, yes."

Nick shook his head. "Not this time. If you think therapy might help, I'm all for it. I'm tired of being a victim."

"Good. You have an appointment at 10:00 tomorrow."

"Pretty sure of yourself, weren't you?"

Grissom pursed his lips. "Sure, no. Determined, yes."

"What would you have done if I'd said no?"

"Made it an order?"

"Ouch, pulling rank?"

"Whatever it takes to get the job done."

Nick nodded. "I need to pick up my Tahoe," he said, carrying his bowl and coffee mug into the kitchen. "If you wouldn't mind giving me a lift."

Grissom followed him with his own empty dishes. "No work, no driving for a week, Nick. Doctor's orders."

"I gotta have wheels, man. I need to buy clothes, deoderant, a razor, all that stuff, and I have that appointment with Dr Kane tomorrow."

Grissom personally thought the stubble covering Nick's square jaw was sexy as hell, but he kept his opinion to himself. "Until the doctor gives you the okay, I'll take you wherever you need to go."

"You have a unit to run, Gris."

"It's Gil, remember? And Catherine is running CSI nightshift for the next week."

"Huh?" Nick questioned blankly.

"You aren't the only one who needs time off."

"I've never known you to take time off unless you're going to a convention, and I think the only reason you go to those is because you get off on cockroach racing."

"What else would you expect from an entomologist? That should be a clue that I need a vacation."

"And what kind of vacation will babysitting me be?"

"It's not babysitting, Nick," Grissom said, opening the dishwasher to load their dishes. "I'm doing this because I want to. As a friend."

Any further argument Nick cared to make was cut off when Grissom bent over, the collar of his shirt gaping at the neck, exposing the older man's throat.

"Oh, shit."

Grissom straightened and looked at Nick curiously when he heard the shocked exclamation. And then Gil couldn't think at all, could only draw in a shaky breath when Nick's long fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt and gently touched the warm skin of his throat.

"Damn, Gil, I'm sorry," Nick whispered.

Grissom hesitated momentarily, then lifted a hand and put it over Nick's. "It's okay, Nicky. I'm all right. It's just some bruising, no lasting damage. I should have known better than to startle you after what you'd just been through."

Nick pulled away and turned his back to Grissom. "I just couldn't stand the thought of him touching me."

Neither could Gil. "It's okay, Nicky. Now, come on, let's hit the road. I have some shopping to do, too. My cupboards are nearly bare, and if I'm going to have actual food in the house, I need to get one of those mini refrigerators for my experiments."

"I won't argue with that."

"Somehow I didn't think you would."

--------

It had been two weeks since the attack, one week since Nick had returned to work. Once his condo had been released as a crime scene, he'd called a contractor for repairs. He and Gil had just returned to Grissom's townhouse after pulling a double when his cell phone rang.

"Hello?" He listened to the caller, then said, "Okay, thanks." He closed his phone, then just stood there, staring into space.

"Nick?"

"That was the contractor. The repairs are finished at my place. I, um, can move back in."

Grissom heard the words, but, being as observant as he was, he also noticed the faint shudder that ran through Nick's body. He moved to stand in front of Nick, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"There's no rush, Nicky."

Nick closed his eyes against the understanding in Grissom's blue eyes. "I can't stay here forever."

Grissom wanted to tell him he could, but that was a fantasy best kept to himself. "However long it takes. You can't put a time limit on peace of mind."

Nick swallowed heavily against thoughts of returning to what was, literally, the scene of the crime. "I feel safe here," he confessed.

Grissom squeezed his shoulder. "Good. You need that feeling of security right now."

And Nick did feel safe and secure there. He hadn't had anymore nightmares since that first day. His sessions with Dr Kane were helping him deal with everything that had happened, both past and present, and Gil's presence had turned out to be surprisingly comforting.

Who would have thunk it?

In the two weeks he'd been there, he'd learned more about the man who was his boss than in all the years he'd worked for him. He'd just always assumed Grissom the man would be the same as Grissom the boss. Grissom the man had a quirky sense of humor and the ability to empathize that was rarely seen in Grissom the boss. It was those two distinct personalities that made it easy to separate Gil from Grissom.

"Thanks, Gil. You have no idea how much you've helped me. I don't know if I'll ever be able to return the favor."

"There's no repayment necessary between friends. Although...."

"Although...?"

"I wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to cook today."

Nick laughed. "You've got yourself a deal."

Grissom smiled then, and it lit up his eyes. Nick's breath suddenly caught in his throat, and his eyes widened. Lately he'd been having the most unexpected reactions to Grissom, his smile, his laugh, his touch, his understanding, and he wasn't sure what was happening. To cover his confusion, he began backing into the kitchen.

"I'll just go ahead and...get breakfast, lunch, whatever started."

Grissom continued to stand in the living room, a faint smile on his face as he watched Nick retreat. He'd known instantly when the awareness had hit Nick, and he figured since the younger man hadn't run screaming from the room that it wasn't as distressing as it might have been two weeks ago.

That, Grissom assured himself, was a good sign. He might not ever have what he really wanted from Nick, but maybe he wouldn't lose his friendship if the younger man ever discovered how his boss truly felt about him. It was pathetic, he knew, but he'd take whatever he could get of Nick, even if it was only work and the occasional casual conversation.

If he had to worship from afar, he would, because the thought of never again looking into those dark eyes, seeing the brilliance of that smile or hearing his name spoken in that sweet Southern drawl was anethema to him.

----------

Nick couldn't sleep, despite the fact he'd pulled a double and had to be back at work in just a few hours. And he knew what the problem was. It all stemmed from whatever weird-assed shit was going on in his head all of a sudden.

What the hell had happened earlier?

Since when did he start feeling all tingly from the touch of another man or breathless from his smile?

Oh, who was he kidding? It wasn't just another man. It was Gil Grissim and only Gil Grissom. He didn't feel that way around Warrick or Greg. Only Gil.

He'd been feeling things for a while now, but he'd always been able to tell himself it was just a remnant of the hero-worship he'd felt for Gil when they'd first begun working together, a feeling that had gradually faded as he'd come to know Gil.

But today was different.

Today the tingle had gone straight to his dick, and no matter what spin he put on it, he couldn't pass that off as hero-worship.

So what the hell was going on?

He wasn't bisexual.

Was he?

Nah, guys had never been his thing, only the ladies.

But there was no denying this...attraction or whatever it was for Grissom.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he was confused and nowhere near as freaked out as he should be. That, in itself, was worrisome.

What he needed was someone to talk to, someone whose job it was to listen, but his next appointment with Dr Kane wasn't for another five days.

One phone call later he had an appointment with Dr Kane for the next day. In only three sessions he'd already begun to make headway in helping Nick come to terms with the babysitter and Nigel Crane. It wasn't all better by a long shot, but it was a beginning. Maybe the man could help with this new weirdness, too.

---------

Gil groaned when the alarm went off, feeling a lot like a bug smashed against a windshield. He hadn't slept well, and when he had he'd been tormented by dreams of a naked Nick begging to be fucked. The result was a raging hard-on that showed no signs of abating anytime in the near future.

Stumbling out of bed, he headed for the master bath and turned on the water in the shower. After adjusting the temperature, he stripped off his boxers and climbed in. Warm water rushed over him, and he closed his eyes. But closing his eyes only served to bring the dreams to the forefront of his mind.

Sinking into his fantasies, his left hand slid over his chest, down his stomach and wrapped around his erection. His thumb passed over the slit in the tip, spreading precum over the sensitive rosy head. His hand stroked up the shaft, over the head and back down, but in his mind's eye it was Nick's lips caressing his cock as his mouth swallowed more and more of the hard length.

His right hand came up to rub a hardened nipple, switching from one to the other as the stroke of his hand increased its tempo. In his mind it was Nick. Nick on his knees, sucking his cock, pulling at his nipples. When he climaxed he had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

He couldn't resist a chuckle as he watched his cum mix with the water and swirl away. He hoped there was never a need to have his shower drain swabbed. Since Nick had moved in his plumbing was bound to have the highest protein content in Las Vegas.

Who would have thought at his age he'd get hard from a mere smile? These days he was hornier than he'd ever been, even as a teenager. He'd slept with his first woman in college, his first man in grad school, those first experiences his need for empirical knowledge. Since then sex had become a pleasant diversion but never the be-all-and-end-all.

With Nick, though, he knew it would be different. And the reason he knew was because this was the first time ever his emotions had been involved. Emotions were messy things that had no place in his scientific world, but from the moment Nick Stokes had walked into his life those illogical little creatures had run rampant.

He didn't think they'd ever been messier and more illogical than when Nick had told him about Kristy Hopkins. They said jealousy was green, but he knew better. It was black and red with orange sparks around the edges. He knew because those were the colors he'd seen when Nick had admitted to sleeping with Kristy. The woman had been brutally strangled, and all he'd been able to think was that she'd had what he never would.

He hadn't liked himself very well at that moment, and he'd been painfully reminded of the prehistoric genes he still carried.

And then, two weeks ago, when Nick had told him about the babysitter, he'd wanted nothing more than to hunt the woman down and make her pay.

He finally understood the term crime of passion.

---------

Nick slammed the door and just barely remembered to disarm the alarm. Twisting the key to the townhouse off his key ring, he tossed it on the dining table as he strode into his bedroom.

It was time he moved back to his own place.

He began pulling clothes out of the closet and dresser, throwing them on the bed. How in the world had he accumulated so much stuff in only eight weeks?

Once he had all his belongings piled on the bed, he reached into the closet for a suitcase, only to stop short when he realized he didn't have one there.

"Shit."

He went into the kitchen and pulled two trash bags off the roll under the sink. He was in the bedroom stuffing clothes into one of the bags when Grissom entered the house, set his briefcase down and caught sight of the key on the table.

Brows drawing together, Grissom headed for Nick's room. He stopped in the doorway, his heart skipping a beat when he saw what Nick was doing, a scowl marring his handsome face. Nick had seemed pissed off at work, but he hadn't known why.

"Nicky?"

Nick looked up but didn't stop.

"What are you doing, Nicky?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Grissom stepped into the room. "What brought this on?"

Nick glared at him. "I can't believe you'd ask that."

"I truly don't know what's wrong. Talk to me, Nick."

Nick threw the clothes he held on the bed and stalked over to stand in front of Grissom, hands on his hips, face thrust belligerently close. "You know, I may not have been a CSI as long as Warrick and Sara, but I made Level 3 first, and I earned it."

"Yes, you did, and I was very proud of you that day."

Nick looked at him with patent disbelief. "Since then," he continued, "you've done nothing but push me and ride me ass."

"Yes, I do push you, because I expect more from you."

"Why me?"

"Out of all my CSIs, you have the most potential, the best chance for advancement. I want to see you live up to that potential."

"Right," Nick said skeptically. "I have the most potential. That's why you put Warrick in charge when you went to your last convention."

Grissom frowned. "I put Warrick in charge because he's like me, he doesn't deal well with people. He needed the experience."

Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it had nothing to do with the fact that Warrick is your favorite and you think I'm nothing but a fuck-up."

Grissom drew back as if he'd been slapped. "I never thought you were a fuck-up."

"Oh, that's right, I have 'potential'. That's why you feel the need to disrespect me so often."

Grissom was well-and-truly confused by now, and the fact that he was getting turned on by Nick's in-your-face attitude didn't help matters any. "When have I ever disrespected you, Nick?"

Nick shook his head. "Are you really that far gone from reality, Gris?"

Grissom opened his mouth, but he had no idea what to say.

"Okay, let's start with me making CSI Level 3. Warrick didn't make it because he fucked up. Big time. Gambling on company time is one thing, but when it leads, however inadvertently, to another CSI's death, that's FUBAR. You were told to fire him, and you didn't. I understand that. Warrick is my best friend, and everyone deserves a second chance. But then you go and promote him. Did you ever think how that would look to the rest of the team? Did you ever think what a slap in the face that was to me?"

Grissom could only shake his head helplessly. Those emotions he tried so hard to suppress around Nick were choking him as they struggled for freedom.

"No, you didn't think. Or maybe you just don't care."

Grissom winced. "That's not true," he whispered. "I do care."

"If you care, then why are you still refusing to let me solo on DBs?"

So that was it. Assignments. "I don't do it on purpose, Nicky. I just think about Amy Hendler, Kristy Hopkins, Nigel Crane, and I don't want you in another situation like that."

"You have got to be kidding me! You don't let me solo out of some misguided need to protect me?"

Need. That was exactly the word, Grissom thought, but all he said was, "Yes."

"Unfuckingbelievable. In the first place, leave Kristy out of this, and in the second, I wasn't alone at the Hendler house, was I, Gris?"

Grissom paled. "Not until I left you there. You'll never know how sorry I am about what happened."

Nick shook his head. "I'm not blaming you. I'm merely pointing out that bad things can happen to anyone at anytime."

"No, you wouldn't blame me. That's the kind of person you are. But I blame myself," Grissom said tightly.

Nick continued as if Grissom hadn't spoken. "And third, Nigel Crane didn't come out of a case. The case came from him. He was stalking me before Jane Galloway was killed, I just didn't know it, so there was no way you could have prevented that. But when you did figure it out, you called to warn me."

Grissom swallowed heavily. "And once again I was almost too late." Those pesky emotions were really kicking up a storm inside him now. He really didn't want to relive those moments of terror with Amy Hendler and Nigel Crane. He saw them too often in his dreams, and thinking of how close he'd come to losing Nick made him want to do something that would probably get his lights punched out.

"You know, for such a genius, sometimes you can be incredibly dense. And if you're going to throw names around, how about Sid Goggle and Paul Millander. How do those grab you?"

Grissom cocked his head to one side, wondering why Nick sounded even angrier now than he had earlier.

"When bad things happen to me, it isn't because I go looking for them. But you...." Nick shook his head. "You went to Paul Millander's house alone. You went looking for Sid Goggle alone, without even a gun. What the hell were you thinking!?"

"I had to try to catch Paul Millander making a mistake, had to prove it was him, and I just wanted to talk to Sid Goggle."

"And you'd be dead now if I hadn't called Catherine," Nick said harshly, nostrils flaring. "You need to learn to take care of yourself before you start worrying about me."

"I can't stop worrying about you," Grissom said starkly before he could keep the words from emerging.

"Why?" Nick all but yelled. "You don't seem to have this need to protect Sara or Catherine or Warrick. Why me?"

Grissom's heart was pounding in his chest, and he had to clench his hands so tight his nails dug into his palms to keep from grabbing Nick and kissing him senseless. Kissing was the one part of intimacy he'd never been truly comfortable with, but being this close to a passionately enraged Nick made him want to devour the younger man's mouth, to literally eat him up.

Nick waited for an answer but none came. Grissom just continued to watch him, his breathing a bit erratic, and that ratcheted Nick's anger up another notch. In a move that surpirsed them both, Nick put both hands against Grissom's chest and pushed him back against the wall. Jaw clenched, eyes blazing, Nick followed, moving in even closer than before.

"I deserve an answer," he hissed, his breath hot against Grissom's face.

Blue eyes locked with black. "Be careful what you ask for, Nicky. You might not like the answer." Those damned emotions, both his and Nick's, were about to shred his self-control.

"As long as it's the truth, it's got to be better than this bullshit."

"Fine. You want the truth, I'll give it to you." Grissom leaned closer till nothing thicker than a piece of paper could have fit between his nose and Nick's. "The reason I try to protect you is because I'm in love with you."

Whatever reaction he'd expected from Nick, it wasn't the one he got. Nick began to laugh, and something inside Grissom shriveled. On those rare occasions when he'd imagined this moment he'd imagined anger or disgust or, in his wildest imaginings, joy. But he'd never imagined this disbelieving laughter, never thought Nick could be so cruel.

Nick stopped laughing when he saw the look on Grissom's face as he moved sideways away from the wall, then turned to leave the room. He'd been shattered, then shuttered, going from Gil to full Grissom-mode in the blink of an eye. But he didn't want that, not here, not now.

"Wait, Gil," Nick called, grabbing his shoulder.

Grissom stopped. He didn't turn around, but he didn't shrug the hand off his shoulder either.

"Look, man, I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you."

Grissom went completely still but none of the stiffness left his body.

"Just let me explain why I was laughing, and then if you still want to leave, I won't try to stop you. Okay?"

Grissom nodded once, jerkily.

Nick drew in a shaky breath and let his hand drop, determined to get through this. "You know I've been going to extra sessions with Dr Kane, right?"

"Yes."

Nick was glad he wasn't having to face Grissom for this discussion. "The reason I added the extra sessions is because I've been having...feelings for someone, and I didn't know how to deal with it."

Grissom caught his breath, hating the tiny spark of hope that flared in him.

Nick laughed but there was no humor in it. "I was completely nauseated by the thought of what Nigel Crane wanted from me, but at the same time I was thinking about that same thing with another man."

Grissom closed his eyes, afraid to face Nick just yet.

"I've always been a ladies man, you know? I never expected to be sexually attracted to another man, let alone fall in love with one."

"Who?" Grissom managed through a throat so tight he could barely breathe.

"Who do you think?"

Grissom shook his head. "You have to tell me, Nicky."

Nick stepped closer and put his mouth close to Grissom's ear. "It's you, Gil. Only you."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Man, I couldn't have told you if I hadn't been sure. I think the thing that freaked me out the most about all this is the fact that I wasn't freaked out," Nick added ruefully.

"So what do you want to do about it, Nicky?"

"I want to be with you, Gil, but the thing is, I've never, you know, done anything with a man. Hell, I never even participated in a circle jerk in high school."

Grissom's heart did a little flip in his chest at the thought of being Nick's first. Smiling, he turned slowly. "I'm a Ph.D, you know, qualified to teach."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Nick smiled. "Doctor Grissom. I like the sound of that."

Grissom laid a hand against Nick's square jaw. "This is probably a bad idea. I'm a lot older than you, and, more importantly, I'm your supervisor."

Nick snorted. "I think we've already had this argument. You're more apt to hold me back than you are to give me special treatment."

Grissom chuckled.

Nick's hand came up to cover the one on his face. "And I don't care about the age difference. If I can accept the fact that I've fallen in love with another man, you think a few years is going to bother me?"

Grissom couldn't contain the smile that split his face at hearing those words. "I have to warn you, Nicky, I've never been in love before, and I'm bound to make more mistakes like trying to protect you from the job."

"We're in the same boat, then, 'cause I've never been in love before either."

"Nicky?"

"Yeah, Gil?"

"Are we through talking for now?"

"Oh, yeah," Nick anwered breathlessly.

"Good," Gil murmured before leaning in and touching his lips to Nick's.

That first kiss was a slow, gentle, hello-I-want-to-get-to- know-you kind of kiss, but it was enough to make Nick say, "Wow," when Grissom slowly pulled away.

"Yeah. Wow."

They moved simultaneously, mouths slanting, searching and finding, Gil's arms sliding around Nick's waist, Nick's hands cradling Gil's head, long fingers entangling in the soft graying curls. Nick took control of the kiss, demanding entrance to Grissom's mouth. Gil groaned when he felt the hot slide of Nick's tongue against his own, urging him to join in the play.

Grissom had never felt like this before. The suction of Nick's mouth, the tangling of his tongue, the fingers buried in his hair. This wasn't just a kiss. This was a joining of souls that reached all the way to his toes. He knew now why he'd never before really enjoyed kissing. It was those emotions he fought so hard against that made all the difference. Love, emotion and a meeting of the souls.

Every kiss he'd ever had up till now was like artificial flavoring, but this, kissing Nick, was like a vat of the richest, darkest chocolate imaginable, and he just wanted to crawl in and drown.

They were finally forced to separate for air but remained close enough that each could taste the other's breath with every ragged inhalation. Grissom had once heard someone claim kissing was an art. Right now he was inclined to agree because he'd just had a lesson from a master.

"It seems, Nicky, my boy, that the teacher can learn from the student."

Nick chuckled, dark eyes sparkling, fingers massaging the head he held. "I like kissing."

"I never did before, but I've changed my mind."

"You like, huh?"

"Only with you, Nicky, only with you."

"That's good to know."

Grissom's tongue came out into the corner of his mouth the way it did sometimes when he was concentrating on an experiment. Nick groaned and swooped in for another kiss, sucking that tongue into his mouth. Grissom's hands tightened on his back. They were sure to leave bruises, but Nick didn't care.

"Bed, Nick," Grissom gasped. "Now! While I can still walk."

Nick started backing towards his bed, but Grissom stopped him.

"My room. I have what we need in there. Besides, your bed is covered with clothes."

Nick's passion-flushed face darkened even more when he remembered what he'd been doing when Grissom came home, but Grissom just chuckled as he took Nick's hand and led him to his bedroom.

What had seemed surreal before seemed suddenly all too real when Nick saw Grissom's bed, and a fine tremor started in his body. Grissom felt the trembling in the hand he held and lifted both hands to cup Nick's face.

"It's okay, Nicky."

Nick drew a ragged breath. "It's just...I've never...."

"I know. Neither have I."

Nick look confused. "But you've...?"

"I've had sex, Nick. This will be the first time I've ever made love, so, in a way, it's just as new to me."

"Then I guess we get through it together."

"Can't think of a better way," Grissom said softly before leaning in for another kiss. He groaned into Nick's mouth. Nick tasted so damn good, and he could easily become addicted to his kisses.

Nick groaned, too, ready for, needing, more. He pulled at Grissom's shirt and slid his hands up underneath, flattening his palms against the warm flesh of his back. Touching a man was different than touching a woman, but Nick didn't think he would have any trouble adjusting, as long as it was Grissom's body under his hands.

"Lift your arms, Nick."

He did and was soon stripped of his shirt. His breath hissed inward when Grissom's mouth fastened on a nipple, sucking and tugging, tongue flicking against the hardened nub. Being an equal opportunity kind of guy, Grissom soon treated the other small male nipple to the same attention.

"No fair, Gil," Nick complained, bringing his hands to the buttons of Gil's shirt. "You're still wearing all your clothes."

Grissom helped by shrugging out of his shirt when Nick finished with the last button. His eyes closed and his head fell back when Nick's mouth found the erratic pulse in his neck. When the younger man's hands joined in, exploring his back, arms and chest, he thought he might just go into sensory overload. Nick's touch had yet to go below the belt, but Grissom was already on the verge of coming, his cock straining for freedom behind his zipper.

"Nicky," he breathed.

He reached for the buckle of Nick's belt, but he gasped suddenly and fumbled with it, a shudder running throughout his body when Nick's tongue delved into his ear. Oh, God, he'd never realized how sensitive his ears were. Trust Nick to discover it.

"I thought I was supposed to be the teacher."

Nick chuckled huskily against Grissom's jaw. "Some things don't need to be taught. You'll get your chance to play teacher." He nipped Gil's chin. "Just don't expect me to wear a plaid skirt and knee socks."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Grissom said, nearly purring from the sensation of finally, finally having Nick's hands and mouth on him.

Grissom's hand slid over the bulge straining against the fly of Nick's jeans, and this time it was Nick who shuddered, pushing his erection into Grissom's hand.

"Damn, Gil. I think we need to move this to the bed before me knees give out."

"It's thought processes like that," Grissom murmured, backing Nick towards the bed, "that make you a good CSI."

Nick didn't so much sit down as he did fall down on the edge of the bed. He bent to undo his shoes, but Grissom beat him to it, crouching in front of him and removing his shoes and socks. He sucked in a breath and his eyes rolled back in his head when warm lips pressed to the arch of each foot.

"Lay back, Nicky."

He did, scooting back and lifting his legs till he was stretched out on the bed, his head resting on a firm pillow. His chest rose and fell with his shallow breathing, and his throat was dry when he saw the heat in Grissom's blue eyes. He was excited, wanting this, but he was scared, too. This was all so new.

Grissom got rid of his own shoes and socks before climbing up on the bed and straddling Nick, knees on either side of his hips. Bracing his hands on the bed, he leaned down and pressed his lips against that square jaw, stringing kisses down to Nick's chin and over his throat, his mouth leaving a hot, moist trail over broad shoulders and a muscled chest. The sounds coming from Nick's throat were, without a doubt, the sexiest thing Grissom had ever heard.

"You're so beautiful, Nicky."

"So are you."

Grissom shook his head in denial.

Nick grasped Gil's head between his hands, stopping the motion. "Yes, you are," he insisted, dark eyes staring intently into blue. "You're physically beautiful, yes, but it's your mind that makes you so irresistable."

Grissom turned his head and nuzzled into Nick's hand. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

Nick grinned, dark eyes sparkling. "Must have been something good."

Grissom smiled back. "I've wanted this so long, wanted you so long."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. From the first moment I saw you. You walked into Jim's office, shook my hand and smiled, and I thought I'd been struck by lightning."

"That long?" Nick questioned faintly.

"Yes."

"Wow."

"And then I got to know you and that lust turned into something deeper, something new and scary."

"I know," Nick said quietly. "Believe me, I know."

He pulled Grissom's head down for a kiss that was slow, wet and deep, a kiss that spoke of everything they were feeling. But then Nick suddenly started chuckling into Grissom's mouth, causing him to pull back in confusion.

"Nick?"

"The security code. I thought it sounded familiar. Now I know. It's the date I started work at the Las Vagas Crime Lab."

Grissom blushed, and he knew he was right.

"Never knew you were a romantic, Gil."

"There's a lot you don't know about me, Nick."

"I hope you're willing to let me learn, hope you're serious about us."

"I am."

"Good. Now, don't you have a lesson to conduct?"

"Consider class in session," Grissom quipped, bending down to nip a shoulder.

"Thank God, 'cause like the song says, I'm hot for teacher."

Grissom lowered his hips so that their erections brushed together. Even with the layers of clothing still between them it was like touching a live electrical wire, sending sparks throughout both bodies. Using lips, teeth and tongue, there wasn't an inch of Nick's chest and stomach that didn't receive Grissom's thorough and dedicated attention.

Nick's breathing was rapid and erratic under Gil's ministrations. His hands gripped the bedspread so tightly his knuckles were white. When Grissom moved back and reached for the buttons of his jeans all he could think was finally.

"Lift your hips, Nicky," Grissom said huskily.

When he did Grissom stripped him of his jeans and boxers that were already wet with precum. His cock sprang up high and tight against his stomach. Grissom licked his lips as he blindly tossed the jeans and underwear behind him, salivating at the thought of tasting that beautiful flesh. He was stopped by Nick as he was reaching out.

"Wait, Gil."

"Too fast?"

"No, oh, no. I just want you naked first, 'cause once you touch my dick what little brain function I have left will cease, so strip. Now."

"Whatever you want, Nicky."

Grissom stood up and reached for his zipper with unsteady hands. He pushed down his pants and boxers and stepped out of them, standing nervously for Nick's perusal. But what he saw in those dark eyes banished any self-consciousness he felt over a body that was going soft with age.

"You really are beautiful, Gil," Nick murmured, reaching out and running a hand over Grissom's thigh.

"I feel like it when you look at me like that."

"I'll never get tired of looking at you."

Grissom climbed back up on the bed, erection bobbing with every move. He pushed Nick's legs apart and knelt between them, stroking Nick's thighs, eyes locking with dazed nearly-black ones. Gaze still locked with Nick's, he reached out and wrapped a hand around Nick's cock, pulling the hard shaft away from the flat stomach.

Before Nick could process the fact that his boss was stroking his hard-on, Gil bent and licked across the head of his cock, lapping up the precum. Nick made a strangled sound in his throat that got caught when Grissom's mouth engulfed his cock, sliding down the hard length till the older man's nose was buried in his pubic hair. When Gil hummed, throat muscles contracting around the hard cock, Nick thought he would lose it then and there.

"Oh, God, Gil."

Nick lifted his head, looking down at the unbelievable sight of Grissom deep-throating him. He buried his hands in the graying hair, fingers entangling in the soft curls, not to push him away or hold him closer but merely as an anchor to keep himself from flying off into the stratosphere as Grissom's head moved up and down.

When a work-roughened hand cupped his balls he did lose it. With a shout Nick came, thrusting deep into Grissom's throat. Grissom made a sound of complete and utter satisfaction as he happily swallowed every drop of Nick's essence. He looked up into Nick's eyes as he slowly released the spent cock with a last lingering kiss to the tip.

"Holy cow, Gil," Nick said shakily, "you definitely have to teach me how to do that."

Grissom smiled as he nuzzled Nick's hipbone. "Gladly."

"But not now. Right now-" Nick drew in a shaky breath "-right now I want you in me."

Shocked, Grissom's head jerked up, blue eyes wide. "Your first time, Nick. Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. I want it all, Gil, everything you have to give."

"And I want to give you everything, Nick. You have no idea."

The hands in Grissom's hair slid down to cup his face. "Then give it to me now."

Grissom smiled hugely as he got to his knees and once again straddled Nick's hips. He leaned down and kissed Nick, letting his new lover taste himself in his mouth, his hard cock smearing precum on Nick's stomach as with one hand he reached into the nightstand drawer for lube and a condom.

"I hope I can last long enough to make it good," Grissom confessed. "I'm pretty close to the edge."

"It'll be good because it's you," Nick assured him.

"Damn, you know how to stroke an old guy's ego."

"That's not all I can stroke," Nick said, sliding one hand down Grissom's back to cup his ass and the other over his chest and stomach to wrap around his erection, touching another man's cock for the first time.

Gil hissed, looking down to see Nick stroking him. God, even Nick's hand was beautiful, especially wrapped around his cock, but he was way too close to the finish line to let him continue.

"Enough, Nicky," he said, clasping Nick's hand and stopping the tugging motion. "You have to stop or I'll come right now."

Nick reluctantly released the hard cock, sliding his hand around so that both hands had a grip on Grissom's ass, fingers kneading the firm flesh. Grissom couldn't resist swooping in for another swift, hard kiss.

"Turn over, Nicky."

He moved to the middle of the bed, giving Nick room to do as ordered. All that pale, smooth skin and that taut, round ass stretched out before him was like an all-you-can-eat buffet laid out before a starving man. Only this was a gourmet buffet.

Nick rested his cheek on his folded arms and groaned when Grissom's hands skimmed over his back and buttocks and down his legs, all the way to his feet. When warm lips touched the damp nape of his neck he buried his head further into his arms, offering better access.

Grissom took the hint, sucking on the skin just under Nick's left ear, knowing he was leaving a mark, wanting to leave a mark of possession he could see at work whenever he looked at Nick. He knew he couldn't publicly lay claim to Nick because of their work situation, the whole supervisor/subordinate thing, but in this small way he could brand him as taken to anyone willing to look.

But he didn't stop there. His hands began a more detailed exploration of the beautiful male flesh stretched out on hs bed, learning by Nick's groans and wiggles what he liked. When Grissom's lips joined the equation, tasting every inch possible of the sweat-slick skin, Nick decided he'd had enough.

"Gil," he said plaintively. "Enough teasing. Fuck me already."

Hearing him say the words was so much like his fantasies that Grissom had to close his eyes and grit his teeth till he overcame the impulse to do what Nick wanted. But he couldn't. This was Nick's first time, and he had to maintain enough control to make it special. Not just for Nick but for himself as well.

"Patience, Nicky," he said, voice deepened by desire. "I have to prepare you so I don't hurt you."

Nick snorted. "I'm already hurting. My dick is hard again, and I feel like I've tangled with an electric fence."

Nick's heartbeat picked up speed when Gil's hands grazed down the crack of his ass before separating the cheeks. He hissed sharply when he felt Grissom's tongue stabbing at the puckered nether opening.

"Shit!"

Grissom chuckled. Nick's tone was somewhere between awe and disbelief, with maybe even a touch of horror thrown in. It was obvious that until now this area for Nick had always been EXIT ONLY, with the exception of a doctor's latexed finger.

Slicking his finger with lube, he slowly worked it into the opening, carefully beginning to loosen the muscle. After a minute or two of gentle thrusting he slowly worked in another finger.

"Relax, Nicky. Don't tighten up," he said gently just before mouthing Nick's scrotum.

"Argh! You've got two fingers up my ass and you're sucking my balls, and you expect me to relax?"

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing," Nick said hesitantly, then added with conviction, "Oh, hell, yeah," when Grissom's fingers brushed his prostate.

Grissom's cock was leaking in anticipation as he scissored his fingers, opening Nick more before adding a third finger. Every moan Nick made went straight to his groin, and his body dripped sweat from his efforts at control.

"I need you now, Nick. Are you ready?"

"Please."

"On your side."

Grissom was drawn up so high and tight that he had to pull his balls down for fear of coming as he readied himself with condom and lube. He lay on his side behind Nick, chest to back, his cock nestling in the cleft of the ass he was ready to make his own.

Running his hand down Nick's side and over his hip, he grasped the hair-roughened thigh and positioned it where he wanted it.

"Leave it there," he said, taking himself in hand and aiming for nirvana.

Nick gasped when the broad head first breached his sphincter. It stretched and burned but kind of felt good, too. Thank goodness Grissom stopped, giving him time to adjust. When he became distracted by the hand stroking his cock and the lips stringing kisses over his shoulder, Grissom used the opportunity to press in further.

"How you doing, Nicky?" Grissom managed between gritted teeth. He'd never felt anything so hot and tight, and he was only halfway in.

"I'm good," Nick gasped, left hand reaching back and gripping Grissom's hip bruisingly. "Don't stop."

"Never."

Grissom began moving, slow, steady, short thrusts that took him deeper with each forward motion of his hips. When he was fully embedded he stopped, savoring the incredible feel of Nicky surrounding him the way he'd so often fantasized about.

"Love you, Nicky," he whispered directly into Nick's ear as he began to move.

"Love you, too," Nick gasped, pushing back to meet the forward thrusts.

"Oh, God, you're tight."

He wanted to go slow. He really did. But this was Nick, the only person he'd ever been in love with, the object of years of fantasy that came nowhere near the reality. He changed the angle of his thrusts, and by the third stroke he knew he'd nailed the prostate from Nick's strangled gasp and the fingers digging almost painfully into his hip.

"So good, Nicky. So damn good. Better than I ever imagined."

Nick was beyond words. He was so overwhelmed with sensations he wasn't sure he'd ever speak again. All he could do was feel, and it felt indescribably good.

Grissom's thrusts became quicker and sharper. Nick knew he was nearing completion, and he wanted to join him. Wrapping his hand around the one stroking his cock, he guided Grissom to a quicker tempo.

With a sharp cry Nick came, arching his back and thrusting into their entwined hands. His inner muscles contracted around Grissom's cock, milking him tightly. With the approach of his own orgasm Grissom pounded hard into Nick, coming with a shout of his own.

Neither one could move just yet. Sweat-slick bodies still connected, chests heaving from exertion, they lay in blissed out exhaustion. Grissom nuzzled Nick's neck. Nick twisted his head back, searching out Gil's mouth, trying to convey what he was feeling with a slow, deep, soul kiss.

"Dear God, Gil. Is it always like that?"

Grissom shook his head. "It's never been like that."

Nick smiled, pleased with the answer. "I'm glad."

Grissom reluctantly pulled out, causing Nick to suck in a breath.

"Do you hurt?"

"Tender, kinda sore, but it's a good kind of ache."

Grissom kissed Nick's shoulder as he left the bed. "I'll be right back."

He went into the bathroom, disposed of the condom and cleaned himself, then took a wet cloth into the bedroom and gently cleaned Nick.

"Under the covers, Nicky."

He returned the washcloth to the bathroom, then came back and crawled into bed. With a tired, happy sigh Nick snuggled close, laying his head on the lightly furred chest, throwing his arm over the thickening waist and slinging a leg over Grissom's.

Grissom smiled as he wrapped his arms around Nick and pressed a kiss in the short, dark hair. This closeness after sex was another first for him, but he decided he could easily get used to it, as long as it was Nick plastered against him.

"Love you," Nick murmured sleepily.

"I love you, too, Nicky. Only you."

END