Title: Party Time
Author: Daniela
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Greg/Grissom
Rating: NC17
Category: Romance, Angst
Series/Sequel: Breaking the Ice
Disclaimers: CSI and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker and CBS broadcasting company. The author makes no profit and no infringement is intended.
Summary: The events at Nick's party are getting out of hand.
Warnings: Slash, M/M
Feedback: Yes, please. I will appreciate all constructive criticism.
Email: daniforblue@yahoo.de
Released: June 2004
Note: Many thanks to my new and very nice beta reader: Erika

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It was an ordinary day at the lab. Everything ran quite regularly, but there was a person who didn't feel normal.

Gil Grissom was eager, if not desperate, to leave for home. For days now he hadn't been himself...if he could have the choice to, he would have buried himself in his apartment, hiding from everyone around him. Well, not everyone...only Greg Sanders. Since the night Greg had left him at the restaurant, they hadn't spoken to each other at all. Gil was surprised at how much he was bothered by it. He became sick with longing to hear Greg's voice and see his face. He had never thought that Greg could be so cold, so icy.

With his silence, Greg had made clear that it was over between them.

Why was this happening to him? Him, who always have had his life under control, every aspect of it and every person in it...but not Greg. The last days had been a nightmare.

He felt nearly lost without being close to Greg. Without talking to him. Still, Gil refused to show any of his feelings to anyone. Instead, like always, he controlled his emotions until it hurt physically.

"What's new?" he addressed Nick, who was sitting at the computerdesk.

"Tomorrow evening I'm throwing a party to celebrate my evaluation. Will you come?"

Gil glared. "I meant what's new on the case?"

Nick grinned. "I know, but maybe you could..."

Gil didn't catch the end of that speech because that second he saw Greg strolling by...

And he wasn't alone. A stranger was walking with him, a handsome man. Not as handsome as Michael Andrews, but pretty attractive.

"Who's that with Sanders?" he burst out before he could help himself.

Nick looked up. "Some old friend, Greg told me. Why?"

"I don't like strangers strolling around in the lab." Oh, what a stupid excuse. It even sounded lame to Gil's own ears.

Nick, though, didn't seem to notice his frozen expression, because he had already faced the monitor again, repeating his invitation.

Gil hesitated to give him a direct answer. "I don't know..."

"Come on, everyone is coming. Cath, Warrick, Greg...even Sara."

"Well, maybe, if I can make it and no case gets in the way."

Nick cheered. "Great. It starts around eight."

They continued working, but for the first time in his life, Gil Grissom, the obsessed workaholic, was distracted. From the corner of his eye, he kept watching Greg and his friend.

Greg was visibly pleased with his visitor, as demonstrated by the way he laughed.

Gil's muscles tensed. He's flirting right in front of me...At work. That little labrat. Barely finishing that thought, Gil felt immediately ashamed about himself. What's getting into me? This isn't me. I never thought of him like that. As a labrat. He repressed the sudden urge to go over and tell Greg that he was sorry for his behavior. Instead, he observed Greg's friend closely.

Was he the man on the phone from the other night? Was he a former lover? Was Greg seeking comfort after he left me at the restaurant? Or did he leave me because he had plans to meet this man anyway? As I recall, he rushed out quite in a hurry.

Suddenly, Greg turned his head, meeting Gil's curious eyes.

Embarrassed of being caught spying, Gil jerked his head around, staring at the monitor, reading the results of Nick's analysis. Feeling a blush creeping up his neck, he forced himself to stay put until he was sure Greg wasn't looking anymore. Shocked of being as insecure as a teenager, he locked all private feelings deep inside, and went back to his duties.

8.30 PM. Gil was watching the house with Nick's apartment. He had been sitting in the car for nearly fifteen minutes, not being able to get up and join the party. Several times already he had been close to just starting the car and leaving.

But, he didn't. Only for one reason. He longed to see Greg, to talk to him, to be close to him. Twice, he had fumbled the door handle. He was desperate to see Greg, but he feared it just as much. So, he stayed put, torn by his inner struggle. Last night, he had slept as less as the nights before. Images had kept him awake: Greg, being with the man, he had seen him with yesterday. In the morning, he awoke with a headache and had to take an aspirin. His groin pained him with unsatisfied desire. There was no pill against that. He was close to doing anything just to win Greg back.

Just then, a face peeked through the side window, startling Gil.

Catherine's laugh was muted by the glass. "Hi. I thought I recognized your car. Nick will be glad you actually decided to come."

Trapped by her presence, he opened the door. "Well, yes, I thought it would be nice." He locked the car, and together they walked towards the house. After Gil knocked, they heard someone rushing to the door, tearing it open.

Greg. An irresistible smile - Gil's heartbeat skipped a beat - was presented to Catherine and then faded off as he noticed him. "Hi. Come in," he mumbled, rushing back into the apartment.

Catherine stopped Gil on their way in and - like always - she wasn't holding back. "What happened between the two of you? Did you have a fight?"

"What are you talking about?" Gil said.

She sighed. "Come on. He was obviously shocked to see you."

"Really? Maybe, he just doesn't expect his boss to be here."

"Gil, you are his...."

"Not now," he advised her quietly, because Nick emerged, welcoming them happily.

"Hi, glad you could make it."

Still not having regained his self-control, Gil was hit by the next shocking surprise.

Sitting at Greg's left side on the sofa was the man who had visited him at the lab yesterday.

The seat at his right side was occupied by a grinning Michael Andrews.

Gil fought an overwhelming desire to run.

Greg didn't look up; the pattern of the carpet was apparently quite fascinating.

Meanwhile, his friend faced Gil directly, smiling like the cat which had caught a mouse.

Nick introduced them. "Alan Davies, an old friend of Greg. Gil Grissom, our boss."

Trying to be well mannered, Gil shook hands with him. As he did so, he definitely felt the temperature in the room rise. Alan's firm, strong handshake and the open look troubled Gil.

Alan had blue eyes, like his own.

Not noticing the tangible tension between the two men, Nick continued introducing Catherine, who had made some effort for tonight and looked absolutely stunning. "Catherine Willows."

Observing the way Alan took Catherine's hand and quickly let go again, Gil figured: So, it's Greg's gay friend Alan. Well, that isn't really a surprise, is it?

After they finished saying "Hello" to Sara, Warrick and Michael, Catherine and Gil sat down.

Not shy at all, Alan started a conversation. "Nick, it's very friendly of you to invite me to your party, considering you and your colleagues don't know me at all."

"No problem." Nick smiled, then he left for the kitchen to fix some drinks for them.

"How long have you been in Las Vegas?" Catherine asked.

"A few days. I haven't seen Greg for a long time and being in town anyway I was eager to pay him a visit." Alan grinned, while Greg still analyzed the design in the carpet.

"So, how do you know each other?" Catherine went on investigating.

Greg's head jerked up; his attention was suddenly drawn to their conversation.

Alan's grin deepened. "Well, I was his chemistry teacher."

"In College," Catherine decided.

"No, in High School," Alan corrected her.

Silence. Alan's answer wasn't even slightly suspicious, but Greg's explicit blushing told otherwise.

Well, my boy, you did a fine job, outing yourself, Gil thought. Discreetly, he watched the rest of the group, observing their response.

Michael Andrews looked straight at Gil and lifted an eyebrow, obviously amused.

Gil swallowed, his throat was dry. Great, now what does he know or suspect? This evening was getting better and better as his regret grew bigger and bigger.

Sara and Warrick, on the other hand, were unreadable.

It was also not surprising that Catherine stayed cool. "Well, you must have been a good teacher. Greg is our best in the lab. Isn't he Gil?"

Startled by her addressing him directly, he spoke the first thing that popped into his mind. "Actually, Greggo has become an indispensable CSI wanna-be."

That had been both unexpected and unusual.

Sara choked on her drink, coughing fiercely.

Alan's eyes widened, while Michael let out a chuckle.

Even Warrick was visible amused.

Gil felt strangely encouraged to say much more and revealing it all. Certainly, he wanted to wipe the typical Mona Lisa smile off Cath's face. But then, he became aware of Greg's expression. He was gaping at him, his face crimson, eyes suddenly fiercely bright. Gil gulped, his heart starting to hammer in his chest. The next second the light in Greg's eyes were gone. He turned his face to Alan, who backfired to Gil's comment while smirking straight to his face: "I'm not surprised that he is this good. I taught him everything he knows."

Sara had recovered from her coughing fit and found back her voice. "Had he the same crazy hair back then?"

Alan laughed. "Oh yeah, he's always had it. It was the first thing I noticed about him." Playfully, he slid his fingers through Greg's hair.

The intimate touch stunned everybody.

Just then, Nick came back from the kitchen, holding fresh drinks for Gil and Cath. Confused by the silence, he looked around. "What?"

Greg jumped up. "What're you doing, Alan? Stop embarrassing me."

"Come on. Everybody knows anyway," Alan argued.

"To tell you the truth, nobody knew until now. Thanks for outing me." He stormed out of the room, which proceeded to go dead silent.

Then, Cath said: "I'll talk to him." She followed Greg to the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Warrick found the courage to speak out loud: "So, you were Greg's boyfriend."

"Sorry, if I made the mistake to think it was obvious." Alan smiled likably.

You're not sorry, not a little bit, Gil realized, looking behind the friendly mask.

"I knew anyway, he is gay," Michael answered cheerfully.

"I suspected it," Nick admitted quietly, catching up to the missed event quite easily.

Sara for once, was honestly surprised. "Really? I didn't."

"I'm sure our boss knew. Being the best CSI of us all," Michael continued provokingly.

Speechless for seconds, Gil realized: Oh yes, he knows. Feeling the eyes of everyone in the room, he finally managed to give an answer. "No, I didn't know. I'm not interested in the private lives of my co-workers, and certainly don't look for revealing details in anyone's."

Knowing their boss, Warrick, Sara and Nick were buying it at once.

But not Michael - who winked at him - and Alan, confronting him with a daring look.

But Gil refused to discuss this matter any further and changed the subject abruptly: "What brought you to Las Vegas?"

"Nothing fancy, just a meeting of a bunch of old friends."

The conversation became banal; they carefully avoided to touch any more private matters.

Small talk, Gil, small talk, he thought, but somehow his mind began to play out quite a different scenario: Taking Greg right here in this house, right in front of all these people, making him surrender, making him beg ... and having Alan watch.

Meanwhile in the kitchen, a particular private matter was obviously burning up a young CSI wanna-be. Greg fetched himself a glass from the closet over the sink, filled it with cold water from the faucet, and gulped it down hastily.

"Easy, easy," Cath soothed him.

"You can talk," Greg replied.

"Come on. If it's your coming out that bothers you, you can relax. I guess, almost everybody back there already knew. Michael is gay himself. Nick is your best friend for good and Warrick won't make a big deal out of it anyway. Grissom, by the way," she grinned, "is certainly quite familiar with your likings in love."

He flinched. "Sara didn't know," he pointed out stubbornly, avoiding to dwell on her innuendo.

"Well, that's true. She'll get over it," Cath mocked.

"She never noticed, because she only has eyes for Grissom."

"Like yourself," she teased.

"Not anymore," he disagreed angrily, suddenly tired of denying. "How come you know about us?"

"It wasn't that hard to figure it out, trust me. Everyone, who has both their eyes and ears can. Besides, Gil told me."

Greg was baffled. "Gil talked about us?"

"Well, not directly. But, he wasn't denying either."

"Does anybody else know?"

"I don't think so."

"Good. It's over anyway."

She looked sad. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"It's me, Greg. Don't you wanna tell me?"

"What is there to tell? I ended it."

"Does Gil know that? It looks like he's quite jealous of your ex."

"Gil? Never. That's only Alan's doing. He always liked to play provoking little games." His voice sounded despising.

Cath looked relieved. "You're not planning to go back to him."

"Certainly not. He broke my heart once too often." He sighed. "Can I have a minute alone, please?"

She nodded. "All right."

Alone, Greg opened the faucet again, wetting his face with cold water. He felt very tired. He hadn't slept very well for the last couple of days.

Someone was coming in.

Great. More well-meant advices, he thought. Turning around, he was confronted by Gil, who was holding an empty glass.

"I need more to drink to be able to stand the babbling of your handsome teacher."

Greg didn't respond.

Putting the glass on the board to his right, Gil came closer. "So, he is the reason for leaving me at the restaurant? Was he giving you better lessons than me?"

"What? No. It didn't happen that way. He called me the day before we went out. I wanted to tell you."

"I meant back in school. Was he the better teacher?" He smirked.

"Your suspicion is wrong. I came on to him. I was crazy about him," Greg snapped.

"How old were you? 16?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem for you? I always took what I wanted."

That made Gil smile brightly. "Really? You never came onto to me, as I remember. Not seriously."

"Maybe I wasn't that crazy about you."

"Weren't you?" Gil teased, stepping closer.

"Leave me alone," Greg breathed.

"No." Blocking his way, Gil pushed Greg back until he was jammed between him and the kitchen board at his back. "Try and make me leave."

"Gil....," he blurted out, before he was muted by a forceful kiss. For a few seconds, Greg felt like he was unable to fight, to break this closeness. Finally, he struggled himself free. "No. Stop."

Not minding his complaints, Gil cupped the sensitive spot between Greg's legs, massaging it gently. "I won't."

Greg gasped: "Gil."

Feeling Greg's cock harden with his touch, he tightened the grip, mumbling: "Be quiet, you silly boy." He claimed Greg's mouth again, and Greg was giving in.

Trembling, he pressed his hard readiness eagerly against Gil's caressing hand. It felt so good, so unbelievingly good.

A sudden noise drove them apart.

"There's someone here," Greg whispered.

But - they were still alone.

"It doesn't matter," Gil soothed him, while he tried to kiss him again.

Infuriated, Greg wriggled free of his grip. "It doesn't matter? So now, it doesn't matter. It's because of Alan, right?"

"Greg..."

"Get your hands off me." He fled to the bathroom, locking himself in. There, he leaned against the wall. He was so angry and so horny.

Damn! Why is this happening to me? Getting into trouble like this? Oh, I know why. Always falling for the wrong men, that's why. Stupid, stupid Greg. He took a few deep breaths, pulling himself together. He knew, he had to go out there again, to confront all of them...Well, he wasn't intimidated by everyone there. Only two. No, honestly only by one.

Gil.

He can make me so angry, but still I wanted him to take me, take me right there in Nick's kitchen, Greg admitted to himself. This is madness. He turned around to press his face against the cold tiles.

Why did Alan come back right now? Jeez! I hate him for it. He always makes things way too complicated...

Minutes ticked by, until the heat in his body had vanished, until he was able to unlock the door, peeking out. The kitchen was empty. After checking his face in the mirror he was feeling awful, but he stepped out anyway.

When he stumbled into the living room, Alan was finished telling a story, obviously a very funny one, because everyone was laughing, even Grissom. It made Greg feel worse.

"He's alive," Michael yelled and drew everybody's attention immediately to him.

Catching Cath's sympathetic expression made him feel a little better. Grimly, he didn't mind the others, nor Gil's blue gaze. His flesh prickled unpleasantly, and Greg wished he could be invisible.

Is there a sign on my forehead announcing to everyone that "I'm sleeping with my boss" or something? Greg asked himself.

Certainly not, but even so, he lifted his hand, to rub the skin there nervously.

His buddy Michael didn't stop to make a big scene out of this. "I was close to calling for a search party to go looking for you."

Ignoring him, Greg addressed Alan: "Can we go home, please."

"Why? We just got here."

"I'm not feeling very well." Well, that was no lie.

Alan's eyes were full of amusement.

It rushed through Greg's mind right then -- He knows. It made him uneasy yet again.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Nick was concerned.

"It's only a headache. I need some rest."

"Maybe, you're worn out from running with the hare and hunting with the hounds," Michael figured.

Greg turned pale. "What?"

"Well, working in the lab and going on field trips can be exhausting, don't you think?"

"Ah ... yes ... maybe," Greg stammered. "I'll go to bed as soon as I'm home."

Alan stood up. "I'll see to it."

Greg blushed again as he noticed the many grinning faces. He couldn't help himself to meet Gil's burning gaze.

He wasn't amused, not at all.

Until now, Greg had never believed blue could be such a fiery color.

"Good night, Greg."

"Night, boss." Greg felt like fainting.

Nick accompanied him and Alan to the door.

Slipping into his jacket, Greg heard Michael still talking.

"For a loud mouth, Greg was pretty quiet tonight, don't you think? I guess something very important is bothering him."

Greg groaned quietly.

Nick patted his shoulder. "Is it that bad?"

"No. Listen, I'm really sorry for leaving this soon."

"Don't worry about it. And about your coming out. It doesn't change our friendship, OK?"

Greg smiled. "I know. See you at work." Finally, he was outside, walking to Alan's car. The evening wasn't over yet. Slowly, the fake headache became real.

"So, you wanna talk about it?" Alan started.

"About what?"

"Your obsession with older men."

"I don't know..." Alan's forgiving smile made him stop denying. "It's just a fling, nothing more."

"Really? He didn't act this way."

"Grissom? He's quite in control of his feelings, believe me."

"Like he was in the kitchen?"

Greg was shocked. "What? Did you...? Was it you, who..."

"No. I didn't see anything. Pity. I was only guessing by the expression he had coming back from there."

Greg said nothing.

"You had the same look a few minutes later. Thanks for your confirmation."

"Did anybody else notice?"

"I don't think so," Alan soothed him. "Maybe the redhead. Catherine. Well?"

"Well what?"

"Was your boss in control of his feelings back there?"

"Alan..." His first love was looking quite satisfied with himself. "Come on, I've known you since you were sixteen. I figured out in a second, what's going on between you and him."

"You're wrong. Nothing is going on."

"If you say so, Greggo."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Oh, so it's only his privilege then," Alan snapped.

"Stop it! You have absolutely no right for being this jealous. You left me, remember? By the way, how's your new favorite student? Doesn't he turn 23 this year?"

"I don't know. We separated last summer."

"Ah, that's why you're coming back to poor 'ol Greg. Giving it a try to get him back in bed again."

"No. I was just thinking....."

"Don't tell me."

Alan stopped the car. "It's no fling, then? It's serious."

"I don't know. Grissom is an expert in hiding his feelings pretty well."

Alan smiled. "He didn't hide them tonight, right?"

Greg became annoyed with his questions. "Jeez! It was only a kiss, nothing more."

Not believing a single word, Alan shook his head. "A kiss? Nah. Didn't you notice? He was practically boiling with jealousy."

"Grissom? Tonight? Sure."

Realizing that he couldn't convince him, Alan changed his course. "Let's talk about you, Greg. Do you love him?"

Greg looked him in the eye. "I have a big crush on him, okay?"

"Since when?"

Greg laughed. "Since forever."

"I see."

"No, you don't. For years, nothing happened between us. It started only a few months ago and went ... complicated."

It was Alan's turn to laugh. "Complicated, huh? Isn't that something you always liked the most in our relationship?"

"As I remember, that was your thing," Greg countered.

Alan leered. "Maybe you're right. So, can I come up with you?" Alan's hand touched his, making him feeling warm and comforted.

For a second, Greg hesitated, remembering how good it felt to be loved by him, but then he shook the hand off. "No, I wanna be alone right now." Quickly, he opened the door. "Good Night."

Alan mastered it well to be rejected. "Alright. Good Night." He started the engine and drove away fast.

Seeing him leave, Greg realized how relieved he felt about it.

It's really better that way. It wouldn't been as easy to resist his advances up in the apartment. Oh no, certainly not, he thought, remembering similar events in the past.

After closing the door and throwing the keys on the table, Greg fell onto the sofa. His relief of being alone vanished, making way for a great emptiness filling his heart. His own bed had never seemed so cold, so lonely. Not having one good reason to visit it, he stayed where he was, sighing to himself. He didn't even feel like turning on the TV. He didn't feel like doing anything.

A loud hammering on the door made him jump. Swearing loudly, he rushed to the door, tearing it open. "Goddamn it, Alan. I told you..." His jaw dropped.

It was Gil, who walked in. "I assume he isn't here."

Greg slammed the door. "What do you want?!"

Gil faced him, eyes as cold as crystals. "Tell me. Was he teaching you better?"

"Huh? That's why you came here? Are you mad?"

With flashing eyes, Gil approached him and Greg moved backwards.

"Was it him that night at the phone?"

"What night?"

"When you ran away from the restaurant?"

Greg was stunned. "You called me? I didn't know that. When exactly?"

"You were in the shower. I assume. It was Alan who picked up."

"Possibly," Greg provoked him. Gil pushed him back until Greg couldn't back off any further. The wall got in the way.

"Did you start a fight with me to run home to fuck him?" Gil demanded to know.

Greg struggled to pass by. "No."

Gil grabbed Greg's belt, fumbling to open it. "Let's finish, what we started."

"Stop it!" Greg shouted.

Gil didn't.

"Why? We aren't in Nick's kitchen. There's none here to interfere." With skillful fingers, he unbuckled the belt. Next the button flew open, and the zipper went down.

"Stop this," Greg ordered him again.

Gil's mouth, crashing into his, silenced him. His hands were busy in pulling on Greg's pants.

Greg tore his lips free. "You think you can come here and..."

Spinning him around, Gil pressed his body against the wall, whispering huskily into his ear: "Yeah, because I KNOW you like this. I KNOW you want this." He bit the inviting earlobe in front of his face, licking tenderly around the edges. He pulled Greg's pants down to the knees, exposing the blue shorts underneath. "Nice color, Greg." Gil's tongue explored every little bit of Greg's lovely ear.

For a moment, it seemed, Greg's resistance was broken. Then, when Gil undid his own belt, Greg pushed back from the wall, struggling against his grip. "Let me go."

But Gil held him tightly, putting his hands around the hips, shoving the shorts down. His lips found the soft spot on Greg's neck and started sucking. "See. You like it," Gil mumbled. He sucked harder, tasting the warm flesh between his teeth. His cock throbbed painfully in the restricting pants, and he freed it quickly, while he ripped Greg's shirt apart. Buttons flown off, landing somewhere.

"Gil!" Greg yelped.

"Yes," Gil breathed elated, fingering the bare flesh of Greg's ass, searching for the hidden place, which promised him the sweetest pleasure. Slowly, he began to wet it with saliva.

"Don't," Greg pleaded quietly, not struggling anymore, only trembling.

"Shhh," Gil hushed him, now taking care of his cock, making it smooth and slick for the desired course. His teeth bit into the freckled shoulder, teasing first, then harder.

A soft cry broke from Greg's throat, and he started wriggling again. "Please, I..."

Before he could finish, Gil pressed his needy cock against Greg's ass, guiding it inside. "For days, I LONGED for you, I LONGED to fuck you," he moaned with feeling. Laden with lust, he pushed forward, sliding in easily.

A second cry escaped Greg's mouth, his body flattened against the wall.

Gil pushed deeper inside, filling him up, groaning with delight. "You're mine. Mine." The sounds of his pleasure were floating through the room, and Greg's whimpering joined in - in a strange, enchanting melody. Wildly, Gil thrust into him, like he was in desperate need to prove his longing desire.

The strokes were so brisk and hard that they made Greg quiver like a leaf on a stormy day.

Greg's insides were hotter than fire, burning him up, and Gil growled with passion. Eager for release, he plunged into Greg's wriggling body, hearing the whimpers and pleas getting louder and louder. Suddenly, his body went rigid, crying out in ecstasy, he shoved his cock once more deep inside Greg. Fiercely, he bit down on the exposed shoulder, grabbing the hips tighter. Stifling his cries into the tender flesh, he surrendered his seed to the hot demanding body of his lover, flooding him with his gift. Panting heavily, he leaned against him, until Greg pushed him away. Catching his breath, Gil regarded him curiously, waiting for him to speak.

Trembling with humiliation, Greg pulled up his pants and underwear, trying to cover up his arousal. "Well, now that you've proven who's the boss, it's time for you to leave."

Gil blinked. "You think, I came here to feel superior of you? You're so wrong." Sinking down to his knees, he tore Greg's clothes from his hands, slipping them back to the ankles. He took the firm shaft quickly into his mouth.

Ragged gasps poured out from between Greg's lips. "No...don't...please."

Gil started sucking the delicious length.

Eyes closed, Greg fell back against the wall behind him, hands whirling aimlessly through the air. "Oooooh. Please."

That caused noisier sucking.

Greg yelled, while at least his restless hands found something to hold on. They seized Gil's head. Defensively, he yanked his hair brutally.

It didn't stop Gil to pump his pulsing cock in the most satisfying way.

"Oh God! Gil! I...can't..." He was close, close to give it all.

Suddenly, Gil let go. Breathless, he wanted to know: "Do you want me to stop?"

Greg's eyes shot open, gleaming with fire. "Don't you dare!"

Slowly, very slowly, Gil took the cock back in.

Shuddering, Greg pulled at Gil's hair. "Suck me. Oh yes, suck me." He wasn't shouting -- it was only a whisper, barely audible.

But he was heard, and Gil increased the rhythm, sucking mercilessly on Greg's hardness until he felt the built tension finally break.

Greg shot his hot seed out, which hit the back of Gil's throat. Greg groaned and whimpered uncontrollably, while Gil kept him in deep, tasting him to the end.

Finally, he released the emptied cock, fondling it slowly with his tongue. Then, he raised his eyes to Greg, smiling, pleased. "You were quite loaded, my boy. Didn't your pretty teacher satisfy you?"

Still angry, Greg mocked: "As long as you're satisfied."

Gil stood up, showing his typical half-smile. "Me satisfied? Not even close. Neither are you." Enjoying Greg's bewilderment, he kicked off his shoes. Socks, pants and shorts followed. Next, he started unbuttoning his shirt and Greg stammered: "What's ... wrong ... with you?" The shirt fell to the ground. "What's wrong? I'm horny as hell, that's wrong." He seized Greg's arm, dragging him in the direction of the bedroom. He shut the door behind them.

Throwing him on the bed, he stripped Greg naked like himself.

Open-mouthed, Greg let it happen.

Gently, Gil touched his cheek. "Well, we had it rough." Robbing onto him, he put a kiss on Greg's forehead. "Do you...," a kiss on the nose, "want it...," and the lips, quick and lightly, "soft for a change?" Teasing the lips with the tip of his tongue, licking them, again and again, until Greg let out a sigh.

"That's not fair. You're not supposed to win me back that easily."

A dozen of quick kisses were given to his face. "It's not about winning, it's about playing the game."

For the first time since days, Greg presented him with his adorable smile. "Oh yeah?" In a sudden surprising movement, Greg pushed Gil off to climb on top of him instead. Grinning now, he looked down on Gil's baffled face. "Let's play then."

Later, much later, Greg lay still on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Considering the events of the last hours, he wasn't feeling angry anymore, only exhausted and perplexed. He sighed.

Gil, lying next to him, asked immediately: "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, spit it out."

"What is this?"

"Huh?" Gil was confused.

"What am I for you?"

"What?"

"A lover, a friend, a sex object?"

Gil raised his head. "What are you talking about?"

"Just answer the question." Greg's voice sounded very serious.

"Naturally, you're my boyfriend," Gil stated calmly.

Astonished, Greg thought about this. Then, he turned to him, nestling his body to Gil's.

The older man scolded softly: "Do we have to discuss this in the middle of the night? Can you just go to sleep, please."

"All right," Greg agreed, slipping over to his own side of the bed. There, he took a few deep breaths, before he opened his mouth again. "Gil."

"What now?" Gil snarled.

"I love you."

Panic-stricken, Gil stared at his silhouette in the dark. He loves me. He said, he loves me. ME. Dear God! How can he love me? How can he say it out loud? What is he expecting in return? I love you too?

At a total loss, Gil was considering his options. Not answering at all would hurt Greg for sure. Telling him something Gil wasn't positive about himself would be even worse. So what? Finally, he decided to say something that was true. "I'm sorry for my behavior at the restaurant. It was unacceptable. My only excuse is, I'm not good with people. I never was. Especially, not with people I care about."

"I know," Greg whispered, his voice raspy with feeling.

"I'm sorry for ruining your shirt too."

"Good. It was one of my favorites." A touch of amusement was in his voice.

It made Gil's heart feel a bit lighter. "Go to sleep now, Greggo. We really need to rest."

"And whose fault is that?"

Gil extended his arm, touching Greg's cheek, stroking it gently. "Mine, only mine."

A couple of minutes later, the sound of Greg's breathing told him he had drifted off to sleep. Just then, Gil stopped caressing Greg's cheek.

I'm afraid, he thought. Afraid of him, of my feelings for him. I'm getting way to much involved with him. This isn't good, not at all. There is no future for us. It won't work for long between us. I know it. Soon, he'll get bored with me. I'm no man, you can live with. Didn't I prove that before? Remembering the past made his heart hurt terribly.

It would never change. Never. He would never forget the misery love had brought into his life and into a second one. For years, he had blocked out every feeling, forbidding himself to fall in love again. But now, it had happened. With Greg. He couldn't understand how... Greg, of all people, could win his heart. But he did. Oh yes, he did.

That's why I'm afraid, Gil addressed the silent darkness. One day, he'll figure out who I am, and that will be the easy part. So it's better to end it right here, right now. Get up and leave, NOW!

But he didn't get up, didn't even move a muscle. Exhausted and -- more importantly, tired of being alone, he stayed and felt Greg's warm body until reality slipped away. Gil was sleeping peacefully.