FIC: One Good Man 15/?
Sep. 3rd, 2004 07:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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nickngregAuthor: geekwriter
Title: One Good Man – Part Fifteen
Rating: NC-17
Category: romance, case
Warnings: mild bondage
Summary: Nick and Greg have a very good afternoon, but when they're assigned to investigate a convenience store robbery in rural Nevada, things get interesting.
Nick grinned and stretched, then ran his hand down his abs to grip his cock. He squeezed it, slid his other hand up his chest to play with his nipples, then rolled to the side to reach for Greg.
He touched bare sheets, reached further and touched bare sheets, reached further and touched the edge of the bed. He pushed out a sigh and lifted his head. The door was open and light was coming from down the hall where he could hear Greg moving around and the occasional splash of water.
"Of course you have to feed the fish," Nick grumbled as he pushed himself out of bed. He wasn't entirely comfortable walking around naked, but Greg always did, and considering what he was in the mood for, it would make things much more convenient.
Greg had set up a small tank next to his desk. It was empty except for water and whatever it was Greg was pouring out of a measuring cup into the water. He was, indeed, naked, and Nick eyed his tight ass for a moment before crossing the room.
"Hey," Nick whispered, coming up behind him. "Don't you know you're supposed to stay in bed so when I wake up horny you're there for me to rub up against?"
Greg laughed and leaned back into Nick's embrace. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep and I just wanted to get the tank ready."
Nick kissed Greg's shoulder, then looked at the 15 gallon tank he was mixing with a flat wooden stick. "You're getting more fish?" he asked.
"Growing my own seaweed," Greg said, turning his head to catch a quick kiss. "It's far superior to the terrestrial greens I've been feeding them, but the cost is prohibitive and you never know if the stuff you ordered came from clean tanks or some polluted coastline. So I ordered some baby plants and in less than a month we should be good to go."
Nick slid his hands up and down Greg's bare chest. "What are you mixing in? Fertilizer?"
"Salt," Greg said. "Well, a salt mixture formulated to mimic the combination of nutrients in the ocean. It's the same stuff I use in the tanks."
"Instant Ocean," Nick read off the bag next to the small aquarium. "Hmm. Reminds me of that time I got Sea Monkeys as a kid."
"I loved my Sea Monkeys," Greg said. "I had a serious Sea Monkey colony going on."
"I was disappointed that they weren't actual monkeys and none of them were wearing crowns or playing baseball. I forgot about 'em and they died."
Greg turned and slipped his arms around Nick's shoulders. "Remind me never to let you feed my fish when I'm gone."
"Where you going without me?" Nick asked.
"You never know. I might present my paper at the next meeting of AAFS."
Nick grinned and rolled his eyes. "You're turning into a little Grissom."
"Hmm. So that's why you find me so attractive."
Nick swatted Greg's ass. "Careful. You keep that joke up and you might be sorry."
"If you think spanking me is going to be a punishment, you're wrong," Greg whispered in his ear.
"Oh, you want me to be rough with you, huh?" Nick asked as he rubbed his cock against Greg's.
"Wrestle you for it," Greg said with a grin.
"Wrestle me for what?"
"Who gets to be on top," Greg said. "First one pinned has to do whatever the other one wants."
Nick laughed. "Come on, do you really think you can—"
Greg dipped his hand into the empty fish tank and splashed seawater on Nick's face, then tackled him and slammed his shoulders to the floor.
"You cheated," Nick said, laughing as he wiped water off his face.
"I couldn't have cheated," Greg said. "We didn't set up any rules. No rules to break, no cheating." He kissed Nick and smacked his lips together when he pulled away. "Mmm. Salty."
Nick arched up against Greg and slid his hands down his back to grip his ass. "Fine," he said. "You win this time. But that's only because you're cute when you cheat."
"No rules, remember?" Greg asked as he got up.
"Hey." Nick reached out for him. "Where you going?"
"Not far," Greg said, walking into the kitchen. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a couple of thin flour-sack towels.
"What?" Nick asked as Greg began to twist one of the towels. "You're going to rattail me?"
Greg grinned and shook his head. "No. I'm not into that much pain with my pleasure." He moved behind Nick and pushed him up onto his knees, gently ran his hands down Nick's arms and pulled them behind his back.
Nick took a deep breath as Greg pressed his wrists together, palms facing, and began to wrap the towel around them and up his arms.
"You can tell me to stop at any time," Greg whispered, kissing the back of Nick's neck as he tied off the first towel.
Nick nodded and licked his lips, let his eyes close as he took another deep, shaky breath. Greg's fingers were quick as he deftly bound Nick's wrists and forearms with yet another kitchen towel. "You've done this a lot?" he asked softly.
"Some," Greg said. "Does it feel OK?"
Nick pulled on the bonds. He couldn't get free but they didn't pinch or dig into his skin anywhere. "Yeah," he said.
"If you start to tingle, let me know."
"OK," Nick whispered.
Greg stood and pressed on Nick's shoulders, moved him until he was facing the couch on his knees, his legs slightly spread, his wrists bound tightly against the small of his back.
Greg leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Don't move."
Nick nodded and swallowed hard. He heard Greg's footsteps on the carpet and thought he was heading down the hall, but he didn't turn his head to check. He felt a little lightheaded, but in the good way, in the way that resulted from all the blood in his brain rushing down to fill his cock.
He didn't know if he should feel turned on or a little silly. He was definitely turned on, though, and the more turned on he got the less silly he felt.
He shuddered as he felt Greg kneel down next to him.
"Look at that," Greg said with a grin, reaching to grasp Nick's fully hard cock. "You like this, huh?"
"Nobody's ever tied me up before," Nick admitted shyly. He tipped his head back and groaned as Greg started to stroke him.
"Well, guess what, Superman," Greg whispered. "Tonight's your night off. You don't get to be in control. All you can do is give in and let me make you feel good."
"You always make me feel good," Nick said, shivering as one of Greg's hands stroked down his thigh and the other one continued to work his cock.
"Yeah, but you don't usually just lay back and take it," Greg said before leaning to take one of Nick's nipples in his mouth.
Nick bit his lower lip and arched his neck back. He struggled against his bonds. He wanted to grip the back of Greg's head and hold it there, wanted to flip Greg over and shove his tongue in his mouth and make him cry out as he slid his fingers into Greg's ass.
He shivered as Greg trailed his tongue to the other nipple and flicked it lightly. He kissed Nick's chest, up to his collarbone, kissed the strong curve of his shoulder and down his arm. Nick stretched his fingers out as Greg moved around behind him, groping blindly for Greg's cock. When he finally managed to touch it, Greg moved away and he groaned.
"I told you," Greg said, planting a kiss in the hollow between Nick's shoulder blades. "You're supposed to focus on your pleasure, not mine."
"But I like touching your cock," Nick whispered.
"But you don't get to decide what happens." Greg pressed on his shoulders, bend him forward until his chest was flat on the couch. "That's the fun of it," he said, sliding his hands up and down Nick's thighs.
Nick closed his eyes, his head turned to one side. His stomach was tight, full of nervous anticipation as Greg continued to kiss his arms and back, as Greg's fingers gently stroked his skin. "Greg," he moaned.
"Shh," Greg said, reaching forward to slide his fingers through Nick's hair. He slid his hand down Nick's back, over his bound arms, to the front to caress Nick's tight abs. He ran his tongue down Nick's arm, kissed his elbow, kissed his way across the tightly knotted towels that bound his hands together, kissed his wrists, his hands, his fingers.
Nick gasped as Greg's warm mouth closed around his fingers. Greg's hands were on his hips, stroking, squeezing, but never touching his cock. He struggled to break free. He needed Greg's mouth on his cock, needed to feel the soft wet heat of Greg's tongue against him, Greg's lips tight around his shaft.
Greg pulled his mouth off Nick's fingers and laughed softly at Nick's obvious desperation. He kissed each finger in turn and Nick couldn't catch his breath, didn't know how he was going to do it but if he didn't get free and shove his cock down Greg's throat he was going to go insane.
Then he lifted his head up quickly and cried out and, OK, that was good, too, because Greg's hot tongue was against his hole, teasing and licking his pucker.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Oh, God, baby."
Greg hummed contentedly, and Nick felt the vibration all through him and he was lightheaded again, arching against Greg's tongue and making soft mewling sounds and he wanted to…he needed to…
"Greg," he panted. "Greg, please."
Greg continued to tease him, to slide his tongue around his hole, to let just the tip of it slip inside.
He cried out in frustration, pushed back but Greg's hands were holding him tight and his cock was throbbing in the air, no matter what he did he couldn't get it to rub against anything, couldn't break free and touch it, couldn't make Greg touch it. It was just hard, so hard, felt so good the way Greg was kissing and licking his ass, felt so good the way his nipples rubbed against the fabric of the couch, felt so good to just let go, just let go and give up, just give it up and let Greg take control of him, let Greg lead the way, let Greg make him feel so fucking good.
He sobbed and pressed his cheek hard against the couch cushion, his body shaking as he finally gave in, as his mind finally let go and stopped trying to take control.
Every nerve was on fire when Greg touched him. Every flick of Greg's tongue traveled through his entire body, from his nipples to his cock to his toes. When Greg's tongue left him it was like the world stopped, like there was nothing except the pounding in his temples and the air he was holding in his lungs, waiting, just waiting, couldn't do anything except wait for what Greg would do next, couldn't do anything but give in to what Greg wanted.
When he felt Greg's cock press against his hole he smiled and whimpered and his eyes rolled back in his head as Greg stretched and filled him. Now nothing existed except his asshole, he was nothing except that sensitive ring of muscle that squeezed against Greg's perfect cock, nothing except the fingertip sized spots of skin on his hips where Greg gripped him, nothing except the circle of nerves and muscle on his shoulder where Greg's teeth sank in.
Greg's thrusts were slow but forceful, sliding Nick's chest over the couch cushion every time he slammed in, pulling back slowly, so slowly, almost pulling out before he slammed forward again and made Nick's body jerk, his nipples scrape against the nubby fabric of the couch, his cock twitch and drip every time the head of Greg's cock slid against his prostate.
He moaned wordlessly, cried out every time Greg thrust into him, felt the ache in his arms, the burning in his biceps as he struggled over and over again to get his wrists free.
"You like it?" Greg asked in a wicked purr as he leaned to kiss Nick's shoulders, his back, his neck. He flicked his tongue against Nick's earlobe. "You like it like this, baby?"
"Yes," Nick whispered.
"Does it make you hard knowing you can't touch me?"
"So hard," he moaned. "God, Greg, my cock…please…"
"Does it make you hard knowing you can't stop me, that you have to just lay there and get fucked as long and as hard as I want?"
Nick moaned and arched his head back, ground his hips back against Greg with every thrust.
"Tell me," Greg whispered. "Tell me if it makes you hard knowing that you belong to me."
"Yes," Nick panted. "God, yes."
Greg's hips picked up speed, each thrust a little harder than the last, his balls slapping against Nick's ass as he gripped one hip for support and tugged on the ties around Nick's wrists just to hear Nick moan against the pressure on his arms.
Nick let his body go limp against the couch, stopped trying to get free since he knew he never would, closed his eyes and cried out each time Greg slammed into him. Every time Greg pulled back it was like waiting for the world to start again, and every time it did every nerve in his body pulsed and sparked and his cock throbbed and his nipples throbbed and if he hadn't been kneeling with half his body across the couch he would have fainted because the blood was rushing so quickly through his head. He could feel it buzzing in his ears every time Greg's hips collided with his, and embers flickered into sparks behind his closed eyelids and he was dizzy, so dizzy, such an amazing rush inside his head and his body was on fire and if he didn't…if he didn't soon…
He came so hard that he lost his sight, lost his sense of hearing, of taste, of smell, couldn't do anything but feel it, feel his balls churning and his come shooting through him, pulsing through his cock and out the tip and, God, was that him screaming? It couldn't be, though, because he was crying, he was actually crying and as his senses returned his body continued to shake and hot tears slipped down his cheeks as he felt Greg's fingers working at the knots that bound his arms.
"You really pulled these tight, baby," Greg murmured, kissing Nick's shoulder. "Good thing I didn't use silk or we'd never get you untied."
Once Nick's arms were free he sat up, sat back on his heels then turned so that he was in Greg's arms and he shivered and he cried. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered. "I'm fine. I'm just…I don't know why I'm crying."
Greg stroked his hair gently and kissed his damp cheeks. "It's just an emotional release," he whispered. "Don't even worry about it. When you give up control like that, your body takes over and it does things sometimes that you don't understand. It's OK, baby. It's all right."
Finally Nick caught his breath and he tipped his head up and he kissed Greg hungrily. "That," he whispered as he brought his hand up to touch Greg's face, "was so hot."
Greg laughed softly and kissed him back.
"You tie a lot of people up?" Nick asked, stroking Greg's lower lip with his thumb.
Greg shook his head. "No. But I thought maybe you needed to let go. Thought it might be fun."
"It was," Nick said. "How long did you have that planned?"
Greg shrugged. "I don't know. A couple weeks. The time didn't seem right until today, though." He sighed and leaned against Nick, then eyed his couch. "I'm so going to need to get that steam cleaned."
Nick turned to look at the cum stain spattered across the bottom of the couch. "It's your fault."
"Mmm." Greg closed his eyes and they leaned together for a moment before he pulled away and stood up. "Come on," he said, offering Nick his hand. "The alarm's going to go off soon but we can sneak ten more minutes of sleep if we hurry back to bed."
Nick groaned but let Greg pull him up anyway, and when they collapsed into bed, even the ache in his arms felt good.
**********
"So," Greg said as he leaned his head against the window of the Tahoe and gazed out at the bright stars in the desert sky. "How'd you talk Grissom into letting me come out with you?"
"Didn't," Nick said. "He just told me to take you along."
"I'm not going to have to crawl through a sewer, am I?"
"I don't think they have sewers way out here," Nick said. "It'll be a septic tank if anything."
"Great," Greg said. "Where the hell is way out here, anyway? Aren't we supposed to work in Vegas?"
Nick laughed. "In our dreams. We get sent everywhere, you know that."
"I guess," Greg said. "I just didn't expect it to take so long to get there."
"It's only been 45 minutes."
"Only." Greg toyed with the radio for a moment. "There aren't even any radio stations out here."
"I've got some CDs," Nick offered.
Greg shook his head. "No. How much further?"
"Why? Need me to pull over so you can use the bathroom?"
"Very funny."
"It's about 25 more miles to the convenience store."
"Aren't convenience stores supposed to be convenient?" Greg asked. "What's convenient out here? And who would bother to rob a place out here, anyway?"
"Maybe somebody passing through," Nick said, "maybe a local, who knows?" Nick frowned as he caught sight of a flashing light in the rearview mirror. "Where'd that car come from?"
"Are we getting pulled over?" Greg asked, twisting around in his seat.
"That's a strobe light on the dash," Nick said. "What the hell?"
"Maybe it's the new Disco Series cruiser," Greg said.
"That's no cruiser." Nick pulled the Tahoe over to the side of the road. "Let's find out what this joker's up to."
"Uh…shouldn't we call Brass?" Greg asked.
"You do that," Nick said, keeping his eyes on the figure approaching the Tahoe. His hand slid down to his holster and he popped open the strap, slid off the safety. "Tell him we've got a 425 and possible 11-112 and give our location while I see what this guy wants."
"Four twenty-five, eleven one twelve," Greg mumbled to himself as he pulled out his cell phone. "Four twenty-five, eleven one twelve…"
Nick opened the door and stepped out of the Tahoe, letting his windbreaker fall closed and cover his gun. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked the man approaching him.
"Just stay inside the vehicle, sir," said the man. Nick couldn't see his face because he was backlit by his car's headlights, but his uniform looked like a Halloween costume. The material was thin and it hung awkwardly, as if it had been inexpertly stitched together.
"Right," Nick said. "Can I see some identification?"
The man stopped a few feet from him and Nick could see that he was young—too young, eighteen or nineteen at the most. "That's the kind of question I ask you," he snapped, "not the other way around. Now get back in your vehicle and put your hands on the wheel where I can see them."
"Yeah," Nick said, shaking his head. "That's not gonna happen, kid. Why don't you just—"
As soon as the kid's hand moved towards his hip Nick had his gun out, cocked, and pointed at the kid's head. And he felt bad about it, he did, because he knew the awful feeling of looking down the barrel of a gun, but when it was either pull his gun or get a gun pulled on him, he didn't really have to think about it. "I don't wanna shoot you, kid," he said to the young man who had immediately thrown his hands up and was staring, frozen, at the end of Nick's gun, "and you don't wanna get shot. So why don't you just place your hands on the side of the car where I can see 'em?"
The kid turned slowly and placed his hands on the back windows of the Tahoe.
"Sheriff's on his way," Greg said, leaning across the seat so that just his head protruded from the driver's side door. He looked at the kid and tipped his chin at him. "Hey," he said conversationally.
"Hey," the kid said back, his voice miserable.
"Kinda sucks pulling over law enforcement when you're trying to impersonate an officer, huh?" Greg asked, and Nick couldn't help but grin as he shouldered his weapon and started to pat the kid down.
"You want these?" Greg asked, handing Nick a pair of gloves.
"Thanks," Nick said, snapping them on before removing the weapon in the kid's plastic belt holster. He tried to eject the clip but the gun didn't have any moving parts. He tipped it down and leaned closer to inspect it in the light from the kid's headlights. He aimed it away from them and pulled the trigger, sending an arc of water through the air.
"Water pistol," Nick said as he pulled a plastic baggie out of the kid's pocket. It had a damp cloth inside it. Nick was guessing it was paint or glue, some kind of inhalant. He tossed the baggie to Greg who put it in a shiny new paint can that he labeled with a permanent marker.
"If you'd have gotten your hand on this weapon and pulled it out," Nick said, "I would have shot you. It's what I'm trained to do. You could have gotten killed over a stupid prank and a water pistol."
The kid sighed and sniffed, and he looked like he was trying not to cry.
Nick sighed, too, and opened the back driver's side door. "Get in and sit down," he said. "What did you think you were doing, anyway?"
"I don't have to talk to you," the kid said.
"No, you don't, but if I can tell the cops that this is just part of a prank or hazing or something they're going to go a lot easier on you."
"Wait," the kid said, looking from Nick to Greg, who had gotten out and opened the Tahoe's back doors and was rooting through the equipment searching for something. "You guys aren't real cops?"
"Crime scene investigators," Greg said, glancing up at him. "Hey, Nick, paper or plastic?"
"Never use plastic with weapons," Nick said. "Always paper or cardboard, you want it to breathe so it doesn't get humid, doesn't start growing anything that could interfere with GSR recovery or any other potential trace evidence."
"Even when it's a squirt gun?"
He shrugged. "It's good practice. Grab one of those Evi-Paq boxes, the handgun size. Yeah, right there. And one of the plastic flexi-cuffs, that's how you secure the gun in the box."
"I hate these things," Greg said as he tapped the thin plastic tie against his palm. "They're such a pain in the ass, like when you buy something and you can't get it off. I bought a pair of scissors once, had one of these on it, and I couldn't get it off because I needed another pair of scissors to cut it." He took the water pistol from Nick and placed it in the small cardboard box, slid the plastic cuff through two holes in the bottom of the box.
"Good," Nick said. "Under the trigger, right, so if it shifts during transport, the tie won't compress it and either cause it to go off or ruin fingerprint evidence."
"If you guys aren't cops you can't hold me here," the kid snapped, moving to stand up.
"Sit down, Sparky," Nick said, holding his hand up. "The cops will be here soon enough."
"This is, like, kidnapping or something," the kid said. "Illegal holding."
"I think that's football," Greg said. "Or maybe it's hockey. Nick?"
"We've got every right to keep you here until the PD arrives," Nick told him.
"We have badges and guns," Greg piped up as he meticulously labeled the box containing the water pistol. "Real ones."
"You don't have a gun," the kid said.
Greg shrugged, unfazed by the kid's harsh tone. "I'm highly trained in martial arts. I don't need a gun."
The kid looked from Nick to Greg, then back again.
Nick fought hard to keep a straight face, then nodded. "He's tough," he told the kid. "He can flip you before you even know he's there."
"Can I search the car?" Greg asked, snapping off his gloves and bagging them before sliding on a new pair. He sounded as eager as a teenager asking his dad if he could go to the next Eminem concert.
"You can't search my car," the kid whined. "You need a warrant. I watch TV, I know my rights."
"Ever heard of probable cause?" Nick asked.
Greg grinned and reached for his kit.
"Hey," Nick told him. "Just the flashlight. Look, but don't touch." The petulant look on Greg's face almost made him laugh, but he managed not to.
"How do you know one of my friends isn't in the car, huh?" the kid demanded. "He could blow your head off if you get too close."
"Because if there was anybody else in that car, they would have peeled out by now," Nick told him. "Look but don't touch," he called to Greg.
He gasped as the kid's foot connected squarely with his rib cage. Or, rather, he tried to gasp but his lungs felt compressed and it took a few seconds before he could breathe again. During that time, the kid fumbled for Nick's gun, but he was smaller and slower than Nick, and he just ended up face down on the gravel with Nick's knee in his back and Nick's gun pointed at the back of his head.
"Now why'd you have to do that?" Nick asked, panting. "We were just sitting around having a nice conversation, and you had to kick me in the gut." He looked up when he saw a flash of something in his peripheral vision. "Thanks," he said, holstering his gun before taking the flexi-cuff Greg was offering. He used it to cuff the kid's hands behind his back and hauled him up by his arms.
When he looked at Greg again, he was blushing. Nick could tell even in the partially illuminated dark of the rural street. Nick wondered why for just a moment, before he realized that he'd had his arms bound behind his back just a few hours earlier. His entire body flushed at the memory. He tried to think of something to distract both of them. "Why'd I pull him up even though he was more secure on the ground?" he asked.
"Uh…" Greg licked his lips and Nick thought it should be against the rules for Greg to lick his lips while on shift because damn if it didn't start him thinking dirty thoughts. "Positional asphyxiation," he said. "If you'd have kept your knee on his back, you would have pushed all the air out of his lungs in three or four minutes."
"Right," Nick said. "Good. Now go see what it is that Sparky here doesn't want us to find," Nick said as he shoved the kid back into the Tahoe. This time he kept his hand on his gun. "Remember not to touch anything."
Greg nodded, and held his flashlight up next to his head in a fist as he approached the car. He shined the light in the driver's side window first, then walked slowly along the side of the car. He stopped as the beam of light hit the car's back window and he stayed there, unmoving, for a long time.
"Greg?" Nick asked, his free hand pressed against his ribs. "What do you got?"
Greg cleared his throat, then shook his head. He took a step away from the car and turned towards Nick. "Uh," he said, his voice shaky, "I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure we've got a 419." He looked back at the car. "Is it still 419 when there's more than one, or is it 419s?"
"Why?" Nick asked. "How many have we got?"
"Um, I'm not quite sure, but there are at least…" He walked towards the car again and shone the light through the back window. "Um, at least three. I think."
"What do you mean you think?"
"It's kind of hard to tell. They're kind of…disassembled."
"Dismembered bodies?" Nick asked.
"Well, pieces of dismembered bodies," Greg said. "There's a hand, and a foot, and I think I see two heads and, oh, God." Greg turned away from the car quickly. Just as Nick saw the flash of headlights from the sheriff's car over the next rise, Greg dropped to his knees and began to vomit.
Title: One Good Man – Part Fifteen
Rating: NC-17
Category: romance, case
Warnings: mild bondage
Summary: Nick and Greg have a very good afternoon, but when they're assigned to investigate a convenience store robbery in rural Nevada, things get interesting.
Nick grinned and stretched, then ran his hand down his abs to grip his cock. He squeezed it, slid his other hand up his chest to play with his nipples, then rolled to the side to reach for Greg.
He touched bare sheets, reached further and touched bare sheets, reached further and touched the edge of the bed. He pushed out a sigh and lifted his head. The door was open and light was coming from down the hall where he could hear Greg moving around and the occasional splash of water.
"Of course you have to feed the fish," Nick grumbled as he pushed himself out of bed. He wasn't entirely comfortable walking around naked, but Greg always did, and considering what he was in the mood for, it would make things much more convenient.
Greg had set up a small tank next to his desk. It was empty except for water and whatever it was Greg was pouring out of a measuring cup into the water. He was, indeed, naked, and Nick eyed his tight ass for a moment before crossing the room.
"Hey," Nick whispered, coming up behind him. "Don't you know you're supposed to stay in bed so when I wake up horny you're there for me to rub up against?"
Greg laughed and leaned back into Nick's embrace. "Sorry. I couldn't sleep and I just wanted to get the tank ready."
Nick kissed Greg's shoulder, then looked at the 15 gallon tank he was mixing with a flat wooden stick. "You're getting more fish?" he asked.
"Growing my own seaweed," Greg said, turning his head to catch a quick kiss. "It's far superior to the terrestrial greens I've been feeding them, but the cost is prohibitive and you never know if the stuff you ordered came from clean tanks or some polluted coastline. So I ordered some baby plants and in less than a month we should be good to go."
Nick slid his hands up and down Greg's bare chest. "What are you mixing in? Fertilizer?"
"Salt," Greg said. "Well, a salt mixture formulated to mimic the combination of nutrients in the ocean. It's the same stuff I use in the tanks."
"Instant Ocean," Nick read off the bag next to the small aquarium. "Hmm. Reminds me of that time I got Sea Monkeys as a kid."
"I loved my Sea Monkeys," Greg said. "I had a serious Sea Monkey colony going on."
"I was disappointed that they weren't actual monkeys and none of them were wearing crowns or playing baseball. I forgot about 'em and they died."
Greg turned and slipped his arms around Nick's shoulders. "Remind me never to let you feed my fish when I'm gone."
"Where you going without me?" Nick asked.
"You never know. I might present my paper at the next meeting of AAFS."
Nick grinned and rolled his eyes. "You're turning into a little Grissom."
"Hmm. So that's why you find me so attractive."
Nick swatted Greg's ass. "Careful. You keep that joke up and you might be sorry."
"If you think spanking me is going to be a punishment, you're wrong," Greg whispered in his ear.
"Oh, you want me to be rough with you, huh?" Nick asked as he rubbed his cock against Greg's.
"Wrestle you for it," Greg said with a grin.
"Wrestle me for what?"
"Who gets to be on top," Greg said. "First one pinned has to do whatever the other one wants."
Nick laughed. "Come on, do you really think you can—"
Greg dipped his hand into the empty fish tank and splashed seawater on Nick's face, then tackled him and slammed his shoulders to the floor.
"You cheated," Nick said, laughing as he wiped water off his face.
"I couldn't have cheated," Greg said. "We didn't set up any rules. No rules to break, no cheating." He kissed Nick and smacked his lips together when he pulled away. "Mmm. Salty."
Nick arched up against Greg and slid his hands down his back to grip his ass. "Fine," he said. "You win this time. But that's only because you're cute when you cheat."
"No rules, remember?" Greg asked as he got up.
"Hey." Nick reached out for him. "Where you going?"
"Not far," Greg said, walking into the kitchen. He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a couple of thin flour-sack towels.
"What?" Nick asked as Greg began to twist one of the towels. "You're going to rattail me?"
Greg grinned and shook his head. "No. I'm not into that much pain with my pleasure." He moved behind Nick and pushed him up onto his knees, gently ran his hands down Nick's arms and pulled them behind his back.
Nick took a deep breath as Greg pressed his wrists together, palms facing, and began to wrap the towel around them and up his arms.
"You can tell me to stop at any time," Greg whispered, kissing the back of Nick's neck as he tied off the first towel.
Nick nodded and licked his lips, let his eyes close as he took another deep, shaky breath. Greg's fingers were quick as he deftly bound Nick's wrists and forearms with yet another kitchen towel. "You've done this a lot?" he asked softly.
"Some," Greg said. "Does it feel OK?"
Nick pulled on the bonds. He couldn't get free but they didn't pinch or dig into his skin anywhere. "Yeah," he said.
"If you start to tingle, let me know."
"OK," Nick whispered.
Greg stood and pressed on Nick's shoulders, moved him until he was facing the couch on his knees, his legs slightly spread, his wrists bound tightly against the small of his back.
Greg leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Don't move."
Nick nodded and swallowed hard. He heard Greg's footsteps on the carpet and thought he was heading down the hall, but he didn't turn his head to check. He felt a little lightheaded, but in the good way, in the way that resulted from all the blood in his brain rushing down to fill his cock.
He didn't know if he should feel turned on or a little silly. He was definitely turned on, though, and the more turned on he got the less silly he felt.
He shuddered as he felt Greg kneel down next to him.
"Look at that," Greg said with a grin, reaching to grasp Nick's fully hard cock. "You like this, huh?"
"Nobody's ever tied me up before," Nick admitted shyly. He tipped his head back and groaned as Greg started to stroke him.
"Well, guess what, Superman," Greg whispered. "Tonight's your night off. You don't get to be in control. All you can do is give in and let me make you feel good."
"You always make me feel good," Nick said, shivering as one of Greg's hands stroked down his thigh and the other one continued to work his cock.
"Yeah, but you don't usually just lay back and take it," Greg said before leaning to take one of Nick's nipples in his mouth.
Nick bit his lower lip and arched his neck back. He struggled against his bonds. He wanted to grip the back of Greg's head and hold it there, wanted to flip Greg over and shove his tongue in his mouth and make him cry out as he slid his fingers into Greg's ass.
He shivered as Greg trailed his tongue to the other nipple and flicked it lightly. He kissed Nick's chest, up to his collarbone, kissed the strong curve of his shoulder and down his arm. Nick stretched his fingers out as Greg moved around behind him, groping blindly for Greg's cock. When he finally managed to touch it, Greg moved away and he groaned.
"I told you," Greg said, planting a kiss in the hollow between Nick's shoulder blades. "You're supposed to focus on your pleasure, not mine."
"But I like touching your cock," Nick whispered.
"But you don't get to decide what happens." Greg pressed on his shoulders, bend him forward until his chest was flat on the couch. "That's the fun of it," he said, sliding his hands up and down Nick's thighs.
Nick closed his eyes, his head turned to one side. His stomach was tight, full of nervous anticipation as Greg continued to kiss his arms and back, as Greg's fingers gently stroked his skin. "Greg," he moaned.
"Shh," Greg said, reaching forward to slide his fingers through Nick's hair. He slid his hand down Nick's back, over his bound arms, to the front to caress Nick's tight abs. He ran his tongue down Nick's arm, kissed his elbow, kissed his way across the tightly knotted towels that bound his hands together, kissed his wrists, his hands, his fingers.
Nick gasped as Greg's warm mouth closed around his fingers. Greg's hands were on his hips, stroking, squeezing, but never touching his cock. He struggled to break free. He needed Greg's mouth on his cock, needed to feel the soft wet heat of Greg's tongue against him, Greg's lips tight around his shaft.
Greg pulled his mouth off Nick's fingers and laughed softly at Nick's obvious desperation. He kissed each finger in turn and Nick couldn't catch his breath, didn't know how he was going to do it but if he didn't get free and shove his cock down Greg's throat he was going to go insane.
Then he lifted his head up quickly and cried out and, OK, that was good, too, because Greg's hot tongue was against his hole, teasing and licking his pucker.
"Fuck," he groaned. "Oh, God, baby."
Greg hummed contentedly, and Nick felt the vibration all through him and he was lightheaded again, arching against Greg's tongue and making soft mewling sounds and he wanted to…he needed to…
"Greg," he panted. "Greg, please."
Greg continued to tease him, to slide his tongue around his hole, to let just the tip of it slip inside.
He cried out in frustration, pushed back but Greg's hands were holding him tight and his cock was throbbing in the air, no matter what he did he couldn't get it to rub against anything, couldn't break free and touch it, couldn't make Greg touch it. It was just hard, so hard, felt so good the way Greg was kissing and licking his ass, felt so good the way his nipples rubbed against the fabric of the couch, felt so good to just let go, just let go and give up, just give it up and let Greg take control of him, let Greg lead the way, let Greg make him feel so fucking good.
He sobbed and pressed his cheek hard against the couch cushion, his body shaking as he finally gave in, as his mind finally let go and stopped trying to take control.
Every nerve was on fire when Greg touched him. Every flick of Greg's tongue traveled through his entire body, from his nipples to his cock to his toes. When Greg's tongue left him it was like the world stopped, like there was nothing except the pounding in his temples and the air he was holding in his lungs, waiting, just waiting, couldn't do anything except wait for what Greg would do next, couldn't do anything but give in to what Greg wanted.
When he felt Greg's cock press against his hole he smiled and whimpered and his eyes rolled back in his head as Greg stretched and filled him. Now nothing existed except his asshole, he was nothing except that sensitive ring of muscle that squeezed against Greg's perfect cock, nothing except the fingertip sized spots of skin on his hips where Greg gripped him, nothing except the circle of nerves and muscle on his shoulder where Greg's teeth sank in.
Greg's thrusts were slow but forceful, sliding Nick's chest over the couch cushion every time he slammed in, pulling back slowly, so slowly, almost pulling out before he slammed forward again and made Nick's body jerk, his nipples scrape against the nubby fabric of the couch, his cock twitch and drip every time the head of Greg's cock slid against his prostate.
He moaned wordlessly, cried out every time Greg thrust into him, felt the ache in his arms, the burning in his biceps as he struggled over and over again to get his wrists free.
"You like it?" Greg asked in a wicked purr as he leaned to kiss Nick's shoulders, his back, his neck. He flicked his tongue against Nick's earlobe. "You like it like this, baby?"
"Yes," Nick whispered.
"Does it make you hard knowing you can't touch me?"
"So hard," he moaned. "God, Greg, my cock…please…"
"Does it make you hard knowing you can't stop me, that you have to just lay there and get fucked as long and as hard as I want?"
Nick moaned and arched his head back, ground his hips back against Greg with every thrust.
"Tell me," Greg whispered. "Tell me if it makes you hard knowing that you belong to me."
"Yes," Nick panted. "God, yes."
Greg's hips picked up speed, each thrust a little harder than the last, his balls slapping against Nick's ass as he gripped one hip for support and tugged on the ties around Nick's wrists just to hear Nick moan against the pressure on his arms.
Nick let his body go limp against the couch, stopped trying to get free since he knew he never would, closed his eyes and cried out each time Greg slammed into him. Every time Greg pulled back it was like waiting for the world to start again, and every time it did every nerve in his body pulsed and sparked and his cock throbbed and his nipples throbbed and if he hadn't been kneeling with half his body across the couch he would have fainted because the blood was rushing so quickly through his head. He could feel it buzzing in his ears every time Greg's hips collided with his, and embers flickered into sparks behind his closed eyelids and he was dizzy, so dizzy, such an amazing rush inside his head and his body was on fire and if he didn't…if he didn't soon…
He came so hard that he lost his sight, lost his sense of hearing, of taste, of smell, couldn't do anything but feel it, feel his balls churning and his come shooting through him, pulsing through his cock and out the tip and, God, was that him screaming? It couldn't be, though, because he was crying, he was actually crying and as his senses returned his body continued to shake and hot tears slipped down his cheeks as he felt Greg's fingers working at the knots that bound his arms.
"You really pulled these tight, baby," Greg murmured, kissing Nick's shoulder. "Good thing I didn't use silk or we'd never get you untied."
Once Nick's arms were free he sat up, sat back on his heels then turned so that he was in Greg's arms and he shivered and he cried. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered. "I'm fine. I'm just…I don't know why I'm crying."
Greg stroked his hair gently and kissed his damp cheeks. "It's just an emotional release," he whispered. "Don't even worry about it. When you give up control like that, your body takes over and it does things sometimes that you don't understand. It's OK, baby. It's all right."
Finally Nick caught his breath and he tipped his head up and he kissed Greg hungrily. "That," he whispered as he brought his hand up to touch Greg's face, "was so hot."
Greg laughed softly and kissed him back.
"You tie a lot of people up?" Nick asked, stroking Greg's lower lip with his thumb.
Greg shook his head. "No. But I thought maybe you needed to let go. Thought it might be fun."
"It was," Nick said. "How long did you have that planned?"
Greg shrugged. "I don't know. A couple weeks. The time didn't seem right until today, though." He sighed and leaned against Nick, then eyed his couch. "I'm so going to need to get that steam cleaned."
Nick turned to look at the cum stain spattered across the bottom of the couch. "It's your fault."
"Mmm." Greg closed his eyes and they leaned together for a moment before he pulled away and stood up. "Come on," he said, offering Nick his hand. "The alarm's going to go off soon but we can sneak ten more minutes of sleep if we hurry back to bed."
Nick groaned but let Greg pull him up anyway, and when they collapsed into bed, even the ache in his arms felt good.
**********
"So," Greg said as he leaned his head against the window of the Tahoe and gazed out at the bright stars in the desert sky. "How'd you talk Grissom into letting me come out with you?"
"Didn't," Nick said. "He just told me to take you along."
"I'm not going to have to crawl through a sewer, am I?"
"I don't think they have sewers way out here," Nick said. "It'll be a septic tank if anything."
"Great," Greg said. "Where the hell is way out here, anyway? Aren't we supposed to work in Vegas?"
Nick laughed. "In our dreams. We get sent everywhere, you know that."
"I guess," Greg said. "I just didn't expect it to take so long to get there."
"It's only been 45 minutes."
"Only." Greg toyed with the radio for a moment. "There aren't even any radio stations out here."
"I've got some CDs," Nick offered.
Greg shook his head. "No. How much further?"
"Why? Need me to pull over so you can use the bathroom?"
"Very funny."
"It's about 25 more miles to the convenience store."
"Aren't convenience stores supposed to be convenient?" Greg asked. "What's convenient out here? And who would bother to rob a place out here, anyway?"
"Maybe somebody passing through," Nick said, "maybe a local, who knows?" Nick frowned as he caught sight of a flashing light in the rearview mirror. "Where'd that car come from?"
"Are we getting pulled over?" Greg asked, twisting around in his seat.
"That's a strobe light on the dash," Nick said. "What the hell?"
"Maybe it's the new Disco Series cruiser," Greg said.
"That's no cruiser." Nick pulled the Tahoe over to the side of the road. "Let's find out what this joker's up to."
"Uh…shouldn't we call Brass?" Greg asked.
"You do that," Nick said, keeping his eyes on the figure approaching the Tahoe. His hand slid down to his holster and he popped open the strap, slid off the safety. "Tell him we've got a 425 and possible 11-112 and give our location while I see what this guy wants."
"Four twenty-five, eleven one twelve," Greg mumbled to himself as he pulled out his cell phone. "Four twenty-five, eleven one twelve…"
Nick opened the door and stepped out of the Tahoe, letting his windbreaker fall closed and cover his gun. "What seems to be the problem?" he asked the man approaching him.
"Just stay inside the vehicle, sir," said the man. Nick couldn't see his face because he was backlit by his car's headlights, but his uniform looked like a Halloween costume. The material was thin and it hung awkwardly, as if it had been inexpertly stitched together.
"Right," Nick said. "Can I see some identification?"
The man stopped a few feet from him and Nick could see that he was young—too young, eighteen or nineteen at the most. "That's the kind of question I ask you," he snapped, "not the other way around. Now get back in your vehicle and put your hands on the wheel where I can see them."
"Yeah," Nick said, shaking his head. "That's not gonna happen, kid. Why don't you just—"
As soon as the kid's hand moved towards his hip Nick had his gun out, cocked, and pointed at the kid's head. And he felt bad about it, he did, because he knew the awful feeling of looking down the barrel of a gun, but when it was either pull his gun or get a gun pulled on him, he didn't really have to think about it. "I don't wanna shoot you, kid," he said to the young man who had immediately thrown his hands up and was staring, frozen, at the end of Nick's gun, "and you don't wanna get shot. So why don't you just place your hands on the side of the car where I can see 'em?"
The kid turned slowly and placed his hands on the back windows of the Tahoe.
"Sheriff's on his way," Greg said, leaning across the seat so that just his head protruded from the driver's side door. He looked at the kid and tipped his chin at him. "Hey," he said conversationally.
"Hey," the kid said back, his voice miserable.
"Kinda sucks pulling over law enforcement when you're trying to impersonate an officer, huh?" Greg asked, and Nick couldn't help but grin as he shouldered his weapon and started to pat the kid down.
"You want these?" Greg asked, handing Nick a pair of gloves.
"Thanks," Nick said, snapping them on before removing the weapon in the kid's plastic belt holster. He tried to eject the clip but the gun didn't have any moving parts. He tipped it down and leaned closer to inspect it in the light from the kid's headlights. He aimed it away from them and pulled the trigger, sending an arc of water through the air.
"Water pistol," Nick said as he pulled a plastic baggie out of the kid's pocket. It had a damp cloth inside it. Nick was guessing it was paint or glue, some kind of inhalant. He tossed the baggie to Greg who put it in a shiny new paint can that he labeled with a permanent marker.
"If you'd have gotten your hand on this weapon and pulled it out," Nick said, "I would have shot you. It's what I'm trained to do. You could have gotten killed over a stupid prank and a water pistol."
The kid sighed and sniffed, and he looked like he was trying not to cry.
Nick sighed, too, and opened the back driver's side door. "Get in and sit down," he said. "What did you think you were doing, anyway?"
"I don't have to talk to you," the kid said.
"No, you don't, but if I can tell the cops that this is just part of a prank or hazing or something they're going to go a lot easier on you."
"Wait," the kid said, looking from Nick to Greg, who had gotten out and opened the Tahoe's back doors and was rooting through the equipment searching for something. "You guys aren't real cops?"
"Crime scene investigators," Greg said, glancing up at him. "Hey, Nick, paper or plastic?"
"Never use plastic with weapons," Nick said. "Always paper or cardboard, you want it to breathe so it doesn't get humid, doesn't start growing anything that could interfere with GSR recovery or any other potential trace evidence."
"Even when it's a squirt gun?"
He shrugged. "It's good practice. Grab one of those Evi-Paq boxes, the handgun size. Yeah, right there. And one of the plastic flexi-cuffs, that's how you secure the gun in the box."
"I hate these things," Greg said as he tapped the thin plastic tie against his palm. "They're such a pain in the ass, like when you buy something and you can't get it off. I bought a pair of scissors once, had one of these on it, and I couldn't get it off because I needed another pair of scissors to cut it." He took the water pistol from Nick and placed it in the small cardboard box, slid the plastic cuff through two holes in the bottom of the box.
"Good," Nick said. "Under the trigger, right, so if it shifts during transport, the tie won't compress it and either cause it to go off or ruin fingerprint evidence."
"If you guys aren't cops you can't hold me here," the kid snapped, moving to stand up.
"Sit down, Sparky," Nick said, holding his hand up. "The cops will be here soon enough."
"This is, like, kidnapping or something," the kid said. "Illegal holding."
"I think that's football," Greg said. "Or maybe it's hockey. Nick?"
"We've got every right to keep you here until the PD arrives," Nick told him.
"We have badges and guns," Greg piped up as he meticulously labeled the box containing the water pistol. "Real ones."
"You don't have a gun," the kid said.
Greg shrugged, unfazed by the kid's harsh tone. "I'm highly trained in martial arts. I don't need a gun."
The kid looked from Nick to Greg, then back again.
Nick fought hard to keep a straight face, then nodded. "He's tough," he told the kid. "He can flip you before you even know he's there."
"Can I search the car?" Greg asked, snapping off his gloves and bagging them before sliding on a new pair. He sounded as eager as a teenager asking his dad if he could go to the next Eminem concert.
"You can't search my car," the kid whined. "You need a warrant. I watch TV, I know my rights."
"Ever heard of probable cause?" Nick asked.
Greg grinned and reached for his kit.
"Hey," Nick told him. "Just the flashlight. Look, but don't touch." The petulant look on Greg's face almost made him laugh, but he managed not to.
"How do you know one of my friends isn't in the car, huh?" the kid demanded. "He could blow your head off if you get too close."
"Because if there was anybody else in that car, they would have peeled out by now," Nick told him. "Look but don't touch," he called to Greg.
He gasped as the kid's foot connected squarely with his rib cage. Or, rather, he tried to gasp but his lungs felt compressed and it took a few seconds before he could breathe again. During that time, the kid fumbled for Nick's gun, but he was smaller and slower than Nick, and he just ended up face down on the gravel with Nick's knee in his back and Nick's gun pointed at the back of his head.
"Now why'd you have to do that?" Nick asked, panting. "We were just sitting around having a nice conversation, and you had to kick me in the gut." He looked up when he saw a flash of something in his peripheral vision. "Thanks," he said, holstering his gun before taking the flexi-cuff Greg was offering. He used it to cuff the kid's hands behind his back and hauled him up by his arms.
When he looked at Greg again, he was blushing. Nick could tell even in the partially illuminated dark of the rural street. Nick wondered why for just a moment, before he realized that he'd had his arms bound behind his back just a few hours earlier. His entire body flushed at the memory. He tried to think of something to distract both of them. "Why'd I pull him up even though he was more secure on the ground?" he asked.
"Uh…" Greg licked his lips and Nick thought it should be against the rules for Greg to lick his lips while on shift because damn if it didn't start him thinking dirty thoughts. "Positional asphyxiation," he said. "If you'd have kept your knee on his back, you would have pushed all the air out of his lungs in three or four minutes."
"Right," Nick said. "Good. Now go see what it is that Sparky here doesn't want us to find," Nick said as he shoved the kid back into the Tahoe. This time he kept his hand on his gun. "Remember not to touch anything."
Greg nodded, and held his flashlight up next to his head in a fist as he approached the car. He shined the light in the driver's side window first, then walked slowly along the side of the car. He stopped as the beam of light hit the car's back window and he stayed there, unmoving, for a long time.
"Greg?" Nick asked, his free hand pressed against his ribs. "What do you got?"
Greg cleared his throat, then shook his head. He took a step away from the car and turned towards Nick. "Uh," he said, his voice shaky, "I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure we've got a 419." He looked back at the car. "Is it still 419 when there's more than one, or is it 419s?"
"Why?" Nick asked. "How many have we got?"
"Um, I'm not quite sure, but there are at least…" He walked towards the car again and shone the light through the back window. "Um, at least three. I think."
"What do you mean you think?"
"It's kind of hard to tell. They're kind of…disassembled."
"Dismembered bodies?" Nick asked.
"Well, pieces of dismembered bodies," Greg said. "There's a hand, and a foot, and I think I see two heads and, oh, God." Greg turned away from the car quickly. Just as Nick saw the flash of headlights from the sheriff's car over the next rise, Greg dropped to his knees and began to vomit.
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no subject
Date: 2004-09-03 07:58 pm (UTC)Well, you best be updating again soon, ya hear?
And I was totally loving the bondage. LOVED IT! XD
no subject
Date: 2004-09-03 10:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-03 10:36 pm (UTC)Take your time, just not too much time ... You're updates always bring a smile to my day XD
Whoo
Date: 2004-09-03 08:28 pm (UTC)Re: Whoo
Date: 2004-09-03 10:24 pm (UTC)And I love making people do happy dances.
Re: Whoo
Date: 2004-09-03 11:28 pm (UTC)L.
PS, absolutely loving this fic.
no subject
Date: 2004-09-03 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-03 10:26 pm (UTC)aaaaaarrrrrgh!
Date: 2004-09-03 10:32 pm (UTC)loved the hot bondage sex - Nick is pretty tightly wound, and it's great that Greg recognizes the need for him to let go of control on occasion. do it again?
but you know it was just mean to leave the hot sex and present us with a routine case that didn't wind up that way, and then drop a major cliff-hanger on your faithful readers. I repeat, just mean! now I'm going to be counting the minutes until the next segment, so I can get some answers.
Re: aaaaaarrrrrgh!
Date: 2004-09-04 06:29 pm (UTC)Ahem.
No, I didn't really think of it as much of a cliff hanger when I ended it, since you do find out what's in the back seat. Of course, I know what's going to happen next, so that could definitely have colored the way I saw it as only a little semi-cliff hanger, and not a big one.
Wow !
Date: 2004-09-04 01:40 am (UTC)Re: Wow !
Date: 2004-09-04 06:26 pm (UTC)Damn it, now I've got a plot bunny loose in my office and it's all your fault!
Re: Wow !
Date: 2004-09-04 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 03:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 06:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 05:09 am (UTC)I can't wait to see what you come up with next...
no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 08:40 am (UTC)Dom!Greg is hot, but dom!Greg with insight?
Very nicely done ma'am *removes hat*
So are we looking at, like, Jeffrey Dahmer here or what? Creepy Raver kid with a water pistol and a small butcher's shop in the backseat.
C'mon...give you cant walk us all the way up to a cliff and then not push us over!
no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 09:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 06:19 pm (UTC)I try to make things as accurate as I can, so I'm ashamed to admit that most of my deviations from canon are accidental (like giving Nick 5 brothers and 1 sister when it's supposed to be 5 sisters and 1 brother). But I do research a lot of the details, so even though I fluffed up canon, I do know things like the starting salary of a DNA tech and the number codes the LVPD uses over the radio. Now I just need to do better research when it comes to canon, damnit!
no subject
Date: 2004-09-05 11:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 05:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 06:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 05:51 pm (UTC)That bondage sex was just hotter than hot - really aroused me physically.
And the case promises to get very interesting.
Hey, I think we share the same like for gross and kinky stuff.. like.. dismembered bodies and bestiality.
What??
That's "CSI", man. ;)
Your insider knowledge doesn't stop amazing me.
It just adds to the whole story.
Wow. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 06:11 pm (UTC)Oh, wait, you were talking about the science stuff, weren't you? Whoops. ;-)
And of course I like gross stuff--I watch CSI, don't I? It's not like anyone's suspicious death is particularly pleasant. Don't all of us who watch it like the voyeuristic aspect of it? Seeing all that nastiness from a safe distance?
The kinks, however, well they're all mine...
no subject
Date: 2004-09-04 07:37 pm (UTC)"CSI" just satisfies all of my needs: death and eye candy.
And, oh, I wasn't going to take away any of your kinks. ;)