Title: A Zillion Kisses
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Gil Grissom
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Gil Grissom, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Gil smiled as Greg rested his head on his shoulder, raising a hand to ruffle the young man's hair. "So, what did you think? I know old movies aren't really your style, but I thought you'd like this one. Alfred Hitchcock seemed like something you'd enjoy."

"I did like it," Greg murmured, not raising his head from Gil's shoulder. "You've opened me up to a lot of new things, I guess. I didn't even like kissing all that much before the first time you kissed me. But now ...." His voice trailed off, a flush rising in his cheeks.

"You didn't like kissing very much? My Greg, who always used to have sex on the brain, doesn't like kissing?" Gil couldn't keep the incredulous note from his voice. "I would have thought that you'd have kissed more people in a year than I have in a lifetime."

This time, Greg did raise his head from Gil's shoulder, a wounded look crossing his features. "That's not fair. You make me sound like some kind of slut who'd jump into bed with anybody who asked me. I'm not like that, Gil. You should know me better than that."

"I'm sorry, Greg." Gil felt terrible for what he'd just said; he should have realized how callous those words sounded before he spoke. "It was meant more as a joke. You've always seemed so ... well, so focused on your sexuality. I would have thought you liked kissing."

"I do, if it's with the right person." Greg shook his head, sighing as he moved away from Gil. "But way too many people aren't good at it. I don't like kissing somebody who slobbers all over me. Or who tries to shove their tongue down my throat."

"I'd like to think I'm better at kissing than that," Gil mused, turning slightly to look at the young man beside him. "Greg, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I don't think you're some kind of slut. In fact, I'd be willing to bet that you haven't had that many relationships."

"I haven't," Greg admitted, looking down at his hands. "I've had a few one-night stands, but those aren't exactly relationships. I don't even remember their names. And there weren't so many of those. I'm not one of those guys who sleeps around a lot."

"I know you aren't," Gil said softly, wishing that he hadn't chosen those particular words to attempt to joke around with Greg. He should have known that Greg would take offense at them; if anyone had said them to him, he probably would have, as well.

"So, you don't like people who are sloppy kissers, or people who are too aggressive with their tongues," he said softly, leaning towards Greg. "What kind of kissing do you like? Whatever it is, I'll try my best to give you what you want when it comes to kisses."

Greg sat back, looking thoughtful, apparently considering Gil's question. "I like slow kisses," he said, his tone very soft and husky. "Slow and gentle. I like passionate kisses. I like kisses that don't just stay at my mouth. I like them to go all over my body."

Gil could feel his mouth curving into a smile; he liked what Greg was saying. He had no problem with his mouth being all over that gorgeous young body; he wanted to trail kisses over every inch of Greg's skin, touch and taste every inch of this beautiful man.

"I'd love to kiss you all over -- if you'll let me," Gil said, keeping his voice soft. He didn't want to make Greg feel as though he was being pressured into anything, but he desperately wanted to kiss the younger man. He'd wanted to do that for years.

Ever since he had first seen Greg Sanders, from the first time the young man had walked into his office to start working in the DNA lab, he'd wanted to kiss those lips. He had fantasized for so long about what it would feel like to kiss Greg, to taste those lips.

"You can kiss me anywhere you want to," Greg whispered, his gaze meeting Gil's. His lips parted as he ran his tongue over them; Gil thought that he had never seen anything so incredibly sexy as that simple unconscious gesture.

Slowly, gently, he moved to slide his arms around Greg, pulling the young man into his embrace. Greg's head fell back, his eyes closed, his lips parted; he was obviously ready for Gil to kiss him. He'd apparently been serious when he'd said those words.

Gil began slowly, barely brushing his lips against the softness of Greg's mouth. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins, a heat coursing through his body that demanded he throw caution to the winds and press his lips against Greg's in a much deeper kiss.

But he was going to take his time. He nibbled gently at the corner of Greg's mouth; he was rewarded with a soft moan, then Greg's arms were around his neck, pulling him closer, those soft lips parting further to grant his tongue entry into the young man's mouth.

He couldn't believe how sweet Greg tasted; he could kiss this beautiful young man forever, keep Greg in his arms for all of his life. There had never been anything so satisfying as being close to Greg, as holding the man he loved in his arms and kissing him.

If he could feel like from simply kissing Greg, then he could only imagine what it would be like when they finally made love, Gil told himself, his heart racing at the thought. Making love to Greg would be the culmination of years of repressed desire.

Cupping Greg's face between his hands, he let himself sink deeper into their kisses, almost as though he was drinking from the young man's mouth. He wanted to kiss Greg like this forever; he wanted their two bodies to become one, to melt seamlessly into each other.

Alas, that wasn't going to happen, a voice in the back of his mind whispered. But he could have Greg in his arms, in his bed; he could kiss Greg to his heart's content, fall asleep next to him and wake up with him in the mornings. He could spend the rest of his life with this man.

Greg's body was pressed against his; he could feel the young man's arousal, sense it in Greg's quickened breathing. His own pulse was pounding in his ears; it was all he could do to keep himself from moving his hand between Greg's legs, to touch him more intimately.

No, he wasn't going to do that. He was just going to kiss Greg, to let the intimacy between them grow slowly, and let Greg initiate the first contact that was more than just a kiss or a gentle caress. He had to let Greg move their relationship forward at a pace that he was comfortable with.

When he finally raised his head and opened his eyes to focus on Greg's face, he was almost startled at how his kisses seemed to have transformed the young man. Greg looked up at him, his lips parted and slightly swollen from Gil's kisses, his dark eyes dreamy.

"Could you keep doing that?" he whispered, his gaze not leaving Gil's face. "You could kiss me a million times and I'd never get tired of it." He closed his eyes again, his head tilting back, obviously giving Gil carte blanche to ravish his mouth with more kisses.

"I've got a zillion kisses to give you," Gil heard himself whispering, almost as though his voice didn't come from his own throat. "I could kiss you forever, Greg. I'll never get tired of tasting you." As though to prove his words, his mouth descended to Greg's again.

Their tongues danced and darted, their mouths getting used to melding together now. Gil's senses felt heightened, sharpened; he had never felt this kind of desire before, lifting him to the heavens and beyond. He had never wanted anyone else as much as he wanted Greg.

It seemed like much later when they finally broke apart again; this time, Greg tightened his hold around Gil's neck, not letting the other man sit up. Gil smiled as he looked down at the young man lying on the couch beneath him, his gaze memorizing Greg's features.

He took in the parted lips, the flushed cheeks, the huge dark eyes, the rapid breathing, the contented smile on Greg's face. He could have sat there all night and watched Greg; all he could think of was how much he loved this young man.

"If you've got a zillion kisses, I think you'd better save some of them up," Greg murmured, his voice soft and husky. "Because after much more of that, I think I might explode. Then you'd have a mess to clean up." He laughed softly, closing his eyes.

"I wouldn't mind," Gil answered, sliding his arms around Greg's waist. They both sat up, Greg snuggling into Gil's embrace, the older man raising a hand to stroke his hair. Gil closed his eyes, basking in the pleasure of having Greg in his arms.

He'd never felt like this with Sara -- or with anyone else he'd ever been with. Greg soothed something in his soul that had long been searching for its other half -- and that half had just clicked into place as smoothly as though it had never been missing.

Greg shifted slightly in his embrace, raising his face to Gil's. Without words, Gil bowed his head; their lips met again, this kiss just as gentle as the first one had been. Oh yes, he had a zillion more kisses to give Greg, Gil told himself. Every day and night, for the rest of their lives.

***