nickngreg | The Night Shift (2)

Title: The Night Shift (2)
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Spoilers: Episode 6.05, Gum Drops
Summary: Set slightly before, during, and immediately after episode 5, season 6 (Gum Drops). This story will play on the on-screen subtext between Nick and Greg, and what is probably being hinted at.
Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation and the characters of Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders are privately owned, indeed not by me, and everything in these stories is purely fictional.
Word Count: 5,135

Nick watched the door slam with a curious sense of detachment, the room echoing silence at him for a few moments before he slowly came back to himself. The television was still on, there were empty beer bottles scattered all over the coffee table, his living room window was open, letting in the warm desert air, spilling sunshine across the carpet.

Oh, and Greg Sanders had kissed him.

He was really having trouble moving past that.

Nick had always considered himself to be a man; although he had been small at the start of high school he had grown very fast, and had spent most of his time either playing ball after school with the rest of the team or chasing skirts with his buddies on the weekend. His father was a judge, all the rest of his family involved in law enforcement of some kind or another, so he had grown up with a very clear view of what was right and what was wrong, and parents that weren’t afraid to tell him. It was wrong to hold your fork in your fist. It was wrong to burp at the dinner table.

It was wrong for boys to date girls before prom; it was wrong for boys to date boys, period.

He had managed to turn his head, to ignore it until college, when his assigned roommate in freshmen year, a kid his age named Jason, had been interested in criminalistics, Texas and gay rights, and had had the softest pair of blue eyes that Nick had ever seen. They met in secret for almost two months, until Nick was given the ultimatum of making their relationship public, or saying goodbye. Nick had filed for a change of dorm request the next day.

It wasn’t that he was ashamed, Nick had told himself then and nearly every day since. He wasn’t ashamed, he was just being practical. It was easy to take a woman on a date. Hold the door for her, pull out her chair, and she would tell her girlfriends all about the gentleman that had taken her out, and then never called her back. Word would eventually get around, like it had at Las Vegas PD, that Nick was a ladies man who refused to be tied down by one woman, but at least that reputation was safe. Something he could hide behind. Nick hadn’t dated any single woman more than once in so long that he couldn’t remember the last time if he tried, which he almost never did. When he needed to, he put on a clean shirt and went out to one of the clubs, Vegas having an endless strip miles long to choose from, and brought home a nice girl with a nice smile, who smelled nice and felt nice, and the next morning he would drive her home and drop her off and never see her again. Women were safe; women he could be seen in public with.

But Greg.

Greg who made his coffee every morning when he came into work, who he partnered with sometimes on cases, who was almost always the last one to say goodbye to him when he left the building in the evenings. Greg who laughed at all his jokes, who bit his lip while he was fingerprinting, who had looked at him with eyes filled with such trust and honesty that Nick had felt crushed by it, just before he kissed him.

Before Greg had kissed him. Nick realized he was still sitting motionless on the couch, in exactly the same position Greg had left him in when he had rushed out of the room. He could hear the clock ticking, telling him that it had been nearly twenty minutes since his front door had slammed shut, leaving Nick all alone with himself.

He touched his lips; there was the slightest coppery tang in his mouth, a taste like pennies.

With a heavy sigh, he stood and shook his head to clear it, to rid himself of the thought of Greg’s barely bloodied lips on his, though the effort proved futile.

He definitely needed to get some sleep.

- - -

Six and a half years.

They had known each other for six and a half years, and he had managed to keep himself under control around Nick, first for the sake of his job, and then for the sake of their friendship, and Greg thought that up until then, he had been doing a pretty damn good job, considering.

Since the first day they had met Greg had felt like he would never again get the chance to stand so close to someone so perfect, that if there was ever a man created just for him that it was Nicolas Stokes and he worked in the Las Vegas crime lab, but in the name of appropriate workplace conduct, Greg had pushed most of those thoughts away. For six and a half years he had smiled, flirted, giggled and trembled when Nick touched him, but that had been all that Greg had ever dared to do.

Up until about twenty minutes ago, when in only seconds he had fucked it all up.

Greg drove fast, his little Jetta pushing miles above the speed limit but he hardly noticed, his eyes glued to the lines on the road in front of him flying past in a blur of yellow. His driver’s side window was open on the wind which whistled past at violent speeds, helping to distract Greg’s thoughts at least a little bit from what he had done.

What had he done? One moment they had been sitting in Nick’s living room, talking about dreams or nightmares, Greg could barely remember now, and then the next he had leaned forward and kissed him, and life as Greg knew it had ended in a flash.

I can’t go back to work now, he thought. I’ll have to sneak in while day shift is on duty or something and clean out my locker then. Leave my letter of resignation for Grissom in his office. That way I can avoid running into anyone. Running into him. Greg stopped at a red light and closed his eyes, shaking his head sadly and thinking of what Sara and Catherine would think when they learned he was gone, what Hodges would have to say on the matter. He wondered if Nick would still bother to tell anyone about what had happened if Greg wasn’t around to humiliate anymore.

By the time he had pulled into his apartment complex Greg had calmed down a little, and after parking his car and taking the long elevator ride up sixteen floors he had abandoned his earlier, drastic thoughts of quitting his job and disappearing off the grid in favor of more mellow, depressing ideals of falling asleep in his bedroom and never waking up again. How else was he going to deal with the fallout that was sure to be waiting for him at work in the form of a very pissed off Nick Stokes? There was no way he could accurately explain his actions in any sort of convincing manor, other than to state the obvious; Nick, I’m sorry I gave into my primal urges yesterday, but you see, I’ve been living with this horrible, all-consuming, unconquerable love for you since we first met, and I’d appreciate it if you could keep this information completely to yourself, while simultaneously never letting it cross your mind again.

Somehow Greg didn’t think that was going to cut it.

He had always been so open about his sexuality, never understanding the concept of censoring yourself to make others less uncomfortable with your actions, and it was indeed his mother who had pointed out to his father with a rather fond expression that their boy was a little bit different from the others. Greg was lucky to have parents that accepted him and what they still called his ‘lifestyle choice’ no matter how many times he asked them not to, and it had been in the years before high school that Greg had realized that other boys were just as interesting to him as girls. Girls were pretty and dainty and sometimes very confusing, while boys could be sort of thick-headed, but made up for it by being solid and strong. Greg had never understood why other people thought he had to make a choice.

But although girls could be fun, and in Vegas there were just so many to choose from, Greg had always known on which side of the fence he would fall at the end of the day. And then he had met Nick, and it seemed like the world was taunting him. Here was this beautiful, perfect man, and Greg couldn’t have him.

He took a long, hot shower, hoping to empty his head with the steam but only succeeding in wrinkling up his fingers and toes, and when Greg’s head hit the pillow his last thoughts, as usual, were of Nick. Shocked brown eyes in a surprised face and Greg’s dreams were tense and disjointed, and when he woke in the morning it was as if he had never slept at all.

- - -

Driving to work with a pounding headache and the setting sun blazing in his eyes, Greg sipped at his Hawaiian Blue in his travel mug and lamented again not having taken a Xanax to help him sleep the night before. The dreams were back, different this time and vaguer, with faces he thought he recognized until he woke up, when anything he might have remembered disappeared with the morning haze. Instead of a good night’s sleep Greg was going to have to rely on coffee and possibly a bit of adrenaline to get him through the day, as he didn’t have very high expectations for it already. This was one confrontation that he would rather have avoided for the rest of his life, but would probably take place as soon as he walked into PD.

Unluckily for him, it happened even before that.

Locking up his car in the parking garage Greg had barely pocketed his keys and turned around, muttering to himself under his breath and trying to find his cell phone in his jeans as he headed towards the building, when he ran into Nick coming around the side of his parked Denali, his kit in hand. When they collided, Nick reached out quickly with his free arm to steady Greg, but let go almost as fast.

“Woah! Greggo! I know we’re back at work way too soon, but watch where you’re going, man!” Greg was struck silent, Nick’s casual demeanor and easy smile throwing him way off balance, so much more so than their collision. Greg opened his mouth to say something, looking suspiciously like a stunned sea bass, but his thoughts would not convert to words and nothing smart or witty came out. He shook his head, then tentatively tried again.

“I- Hey.” He swallowed, terror like a living animal in his throat, fighting to get out. “Nick? About, uh, you know. Last night.” He waited until Nick caught his eye, albeit shyly, and Greg considered it a great feat of strength that he didn’t look away. “Really, I was-”

“Nah,” Nick waved Greg’s explanation away with one hand, his face a frown that left no room for arguing. “Don’t be sorry. Not about that.” He didn’t meet Greg’s gaze, but his posture was relaxed, and his voice had that hint of Texan in it that only showed up when he was trying to put someone, usually a witness, at ease.

Greg’s heartbeat had slowed back down a bit, getting closer to normal with those reassuring words, but he was still not settled in the least. Nick scratched the back of his neck in a charming, awkward manor, and offered Greg a grin that was a little bit more mischievous than usual. “I just didn’t know you were-”

“I’m not. Not strictly, anyway.” It was Greg’s turn to avert his own eyes in a little bit of uncharacteristic embarrassment, but when he heard Nick’s low rumble of a laugh he glanced back with a weak smile of his own, and the earth began to settle beneath his feet once more.

At least for the time being.

- - -

It had been just a little bit over a week, and Nick thought that he and Greg were finally getting back to normal again. Greg had been cautious around him for days after the incident, a behavior that Nick didn’t really know how to deal with because Greg was never guarded or cautious around him or the rest of the team; not that he had been able to tell, anyway. But then again, he had been strangely blind to other important things about Greg. Things that surprised Nick to find out, but shouldn’t have, when he really considered it. Greg had just always seemed so honest, so genuine, that Nick had had no reason to question the truth behind what he said, although some of his stories were obviously exaggerations, and some even downright lies.

But Nick had always found that sort of charming about Greg; he was just as likely to tell you something frank and revealing about himself as he was to blatantly invent some long-winded tale and try to spoon feed it to you with a dead-straight face. Nick remembered fondly when visiting the weird little lab rat with the blond streaks in his hair had been the highlight of some of his rougher days, back when he was still trying to find his footing as a CSI 3.

He wondered how he had never really noticed that before, how it was usually after he had received his DNA results that his days had seemed to be that much more manageable.

And then Greg had become discontented with having to remain in the sterile safety of the lab, and Nick had been the first to offer him a hand.

Nick remembered the bus accident, all those dead tourists with so many young cadets and trainees to help process the scene, and Greg had arrived in only a sweater to face the mean, cold, Nevada desert night. Although he had refused the offer of Nick’s extra jacket that he kept in his truck, just in case, Greg had shaken like a leaf in the wind the entire time he took Nick’s notes, and Nick had noticed for the first time that Greg the lab rat was a lot tougher than he seemed.

Then after the explosion Greg had bitten and clawed his way slowly out of the lab and into the field, fighting prejudice on both sides about his capabilities as a CSI and his disloyalty as a DNA tech, and Nick had wanted to help him out even more. He had always felt like Greg was his trainee; when he had started to work alongside others Nick had had to get over his strange feelings of jealousy towards having his sidekick stolen. He liked it when Greg had to look to him as the senior CSI for guidance and motivation, how when they had to process scenes outside in the dark Greg always stuck a little bit closer to his side than was strictly necessary. Greg was smart, smarter than most in fact, Nick could tell, but he lacked the easy confidence in himself that would have helped him make a smoother transition, to move from crime inside test tubes to death and blood on the streets.

But Greg was hardly his sidekick anymore, and soon enough had proven that he was not to be overlooked as a criminalist. The more he was trusted with solo assignments the more Nick felt he was losing the edge that kept Greg interested in spending time with him, and he missed the excited look that Greg would get in his warm, brown eyes when he was paired with Nick to go out on a call.

Greg relaxed him, made him laugh, made Nick remember what it was like to have something that wasn’t your job, that wasn’t chemical compounds or search warrants or fingerprints in the victim’s blood. Greg’s hands were soft, his smile set his heart racing, and his eyes betrayed emotions in a way that Nick found frighteningly easy to read. Nick knew that he listened to metal when he was in a good mood, blues when he was in a bad one, and techno while he drove. He knew Greg liked coffee and nothing else in the morning, and always ate his lunch early, hours before anyone else went on break.

Greg made him happy, and it was while Nick was driving to a scene almost three weeks after the incident had happened in his living room that he figured it out, and nearly lost control of his Denali on a pothole in the road.

Greg Sanders made him happy. Greg, with his blond and brown hair grown out in a bit of a shag and his constantly humorous outlook on life. Nick barely had time to roll the realization around in his head like a piece of hard candy before the McBride triple murder case hit, and a little girl went missing.

- - -

Nick had been the primary on the scene, working with small town cops that seemed more confused by a series of murders in their town than angered or worried by it. Grissom had been away giving a seminar and Sara, Warrick and Greg had done their best to help, but cases with children pulled at something so deep inside of him that Nick couldn’t help himself, and his emotions always seemed to get away from him like fire escaping through the grate.

He and known she was alive the entire time, and it was only his persistence to believe this that had saved her.

Greg had been the one to find the gum, and start to piece together what it meant. Sara had tried to tell Nick gently that it wasn’t likely they were going to recover her alive, but Greg had kept any suspicions that he had about her safety to himself, and merely stuck close by like he did when Nick started to forget himself. But even Greg’s diffusing presence couldn’t help him all the time.

Nick almost never lost his cool, his commitment to following the rules keeping him in line even when he felt like throwing the suspect through the interrogation room window, but that was before he knew what it felt like to be dying, to be the victim on the other end who’s location someone else was holding back. Although every little voice in his head had told him not to, Nick had grabbed the suspect by the collar and slammed him up against the wall, and no one had moved an inch to stop him. Sara had confronted him afterwards, but her heart wasn’t in her accusations and an apology from Nick had smoothed things over fairly quickly.

But nothing was smoothed over for Nick.

He had found her on the side of the river, deathly pale and clutching a wad of gum in her little hand, and it was only when she was safely in the hospital and her condition had stabilized that Nick’s sense of tunnel vision had started to subside. In its wake it left a gaping emptiness, a cold feeling that went bone-deep and made Nick wish that he had something to go home to, someone to distract him and make him believe that the world wasn’t as dark as it seemed; that after the night there had to come a day, and that it was brighter and longer and more beautiful than Nick could remember.

And that was when he took a left on Imperial Boulevard instead of a right, and found himself going up sixteen apartment floors in a terribly slow elevator.

- - -

Greg had just closed his eyes when he heard the urgent knock on his door, and he frowned to himself in the relative darkness of his bedroom. Who the hell could that possibly be? He had only gotten home about a half an hour ago, barging in after another double shift and dumping his kit and jacket by the front door, forgoing shower, food and self-medication in favor of sleep, and now he was being interrupted. The knock sounded again, slightly louder this time, and Greg ran a hand quickly through his hair as he climbed out of bed, thinking that this had better be something Goddamned important, else I am slamming that door in their face.

Greg hadn’t been sleeping all that well the last couple of weeks, the ease with which he balanced his work and his life thrown off by his nervousness and guilt about the situation with Nick, and living with that stress every day was affecting him. He didn’t know how to behave anymore, what to say and how to respond when Nick flirted with him, something he felt was incredibly unfair but had no idea how to properly articulate. They hadn’t spoken about the matter since the morning after in the parking lot, and Greg had been doing his best to leave it behind him. Clearly it wasn’t working as well as he had hoped.

But when Greg opened his door in only an old Ramones t-shirt and a pair of boxers and saw Nick standing in the hallway, still in his work clothes, his eyes glassy like he had been crying, Greg couldn’t think of anything smart to say for the third time in his life. They stood there for what seemed like minutes, the two of them staring at each other, only the hum of the air conditioner breaking the silence. And then Nick had taken a step forward without a word and closed the distance between them, and for the second time in a month, Greg’s life changed forever.

Nick’s arms wound around Greg’s waist and when their lips met he couldn’t help the little involuntary moan that escaped him, Nick’s strength holding him up when his knees went weak. He opened his mouth eagerly when he felt Nick’s tongue press against his bottom lip, demanding his permission, and Greg gasped into the kiss as it was deepened and he tightened his fingers in Nick’s hair, his heart beating savagely against his ribs like it meant to escape. Nick tasted perfect, dark and seductive and Greg licked and nibbled at his lips in desperation, Nick taking the time to pillage Greg’s mouth with his tongue, while Greg wanted only to ravish Nick’s lips with a hundred little kisses.

Never breaking their mouths apart or detaching himself from Greg’s body, Nick forced the smaller man a few steps backward into the room, kicking the apartment door shut behind them before pressing Greg firmly up against it, their bodies locked together so close that Greg burned with the heat radiating off of Nick. He was already painfully hard, his erection obvious where it pushed against the thin fabric of his boxers but Nick didn’t seem to notice, was only interested in Greg’s mouth and his lips and his neck and then Greg gasped again and cried out because Nick’s teeth had scraped against his throat, and his hips bucked up desperately against Nick’s leg. Then Nick was grinding against him, pressing his jean clad thigh into Greg’s cock over and over again until he was writhing against the door, gasping and pleading with Nick to touch him.

“Please.” He spoke between kisses, Greg’s lips swollen and pink already, his hands creeping up underneath Nick’s crisp button-down shirt, his back and chest hot to the touch. “Please, Nick, fuck me.” Then he felt Nick’s hands on his waist, his fingers sliding against skin and he was being lifted, as easily as if he weighed nothing at all but Greg wrapped his legs around Nick anyway, and it appeared that Nick knew where his bedroom was because that’s where they were headed, and then Greg was being laid down gently on his bed and Nick was settling between his thighs, and Greg had to struggle just to make himself last any longer than that.

Instead he reached for the hem of Nick’s shirt, pushing it up until he could run the flat of his tongue over Nick’s nipples, peaked and hard with lust, and Greg sucked at them gently and grazed his teeth until he heard Nick’s breath catch in his throat as he groaned. While Greg pulled his own shirt over his head Nick removed his in remarkable time, popping the button on his jeans and licking his lips as he watched Greg watching him, sliding his zipper down and then Nick palmed himself through his jeans, touching himself slowly and Greg couldn’t stand it, he had to touch him, had to push Nick back until he could free his cock from the confines of his jeans, and then it was Greg’s turn for his breath to come up short.

Nick heard the little gasp and sat back with a smile, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking it lazily while Greg watched, his eyes greedy, his mouth dry. “Big, I know.” Nick’s voice was low and rough, his gaze never leaving Greg where he lay beneath him, his wrist twisting slightly every time his stroke came to the tip. Big was an understatement, Greg thought. He had been with big before. Nick was enormous. “Think you can handle it?”

Greg nodded without hesitation, licking his lips at the thought and Nick pressed their bodies together again as he kissed him, sliding Greg’s boxers down and off his hips, climbing out of his own jeans and underwear and then they were naked and moving together, Nick’s cock sliding against Greg’s and Greg was moaning, crying out desperately every time they rubbed together, Nick’s hands moving to his thighs and spreading them farther apart, his fingers sliding down until they ghosted over Greg’s entrance and it was only then that he remembered to reach for the lube, hiding in the bottom drawer of his bedside table and then Nick was coating his fingers, running them over Greg’s hole and kneading his thighs gently with the other hand. Nick kissed him again but pulled away to look into Greg’s eyes as he slid his fingers inside, first two and then three, and Greg gasped and sighed and rocked his hips urgently against Nick’s hand until he started to move inside him, thrusting slowly at first but then gradually getting faster, Greg panting now, his lips slightly parted but no sounds escaped from him anymore. Nick’s fingers pushed deeper, trying to pull those noises from him again and he was rewarded when he curled his knuckles ever so slightly and slid against the little bundle of nerves inside of Greg and Greg screamed, his cock twitching against his stomach and his legs tightening around Nick’s body, and then Nick slid his fingers out slowly and replaced them with the head of his cock, rubbing it teasingly against Greg’s entrance, slipping it past the first ring of tensed muscle before pulling back again, wanting to hear him, want to make him beg.

“Nick.” Hearing his name in that tone of voice, coming from Greg’s kiss-swollen lips and desperate face, he was tempted to give in instantly. “God, Nick, please.” Nick slid inside, just the tip of him, Greg’s body accepting him eagerly but Nick pulled out again almost immediately.

“Please what?” His voice was barely above a whisper, husky and dark and unbearably sexy, and in that instant Greg would have said anything to get what he wanted.

“Please Nick, fuck me, I want you inside me, I want to feel all of you, I-” Greg was cut off by the gorgeous, perfect, burning sensation of Nick sliding in up to the hilt, his muscles stretching to let him fit, his breath trapped in his chest until Nick pulled out again and then began to thrust, Greg letting out a moan every time he pulled out in order to push back in. He threw his head back, his chest heaving, his eyes squeezed shut with how good it felt, but Nick cupped his jaw and kissed his forehead, and whispered to him.

“Don’t close your eyes. I want to see you when you come.” Nick felt perfect, the head of his cock rubbing against Greg’s prostate with every thrust, his lips kissing his mouth, his neck, his cheeks over and over again as they made love, his own cock leaking and trapped between their bodies as they rocked together and Greg knew he wasn’t going to last long, knew that this felt too good for him to make it last, even for Nick and he screamed when he came, spurting hard across Nick’s chest and his own, his brown eyes wide and locked with Nick’s, his mind separating from his body in that perfect way that only happened after the best sex of his life.

“Oh God- Nick! Fuck yes, Nick!”

Nick felt Greg start to tremble when his orgasm hit and when Greg screamed his name and went into spasms as he came Nick couldn’t hold back anymore and groaned deep in his throat as he came inside of Greg, his thrusts slowing as he rode out the shockwaves still making their way through his body, pulling out gently and kissing Greg deep, their tongues sliding over one another lazily and their teeth knocking together. The warm body wrapped around his felt so right, so inviting that when Greg pulled the sheets up over their sweat-slicked bodies Nick didn’t complain, didn’t have a single word of protest to utter, and within minutes they were both asleep, Greg on his back with his head turned towards Nick, Nick on his side, one arm wrapped around the man that had saved him.

- - -

Greg woke when his alarm started to beep at the regular time and rolled over to a cold bed, the sheets where Nick had laid the night before rumpled but empty. He stared at the spot for a very long time, trying to decide if it had all just been a very vivid, very cruel dream, until he noticed the piece of paper folded neatly on the pillow with the letter G. scrawled in a quick hand on the outside.

Sitting up on one elbow, Greg reached out and grabbed the note, flipping it open and reading it with slow, blurry eyes.

Morning, G.

Thanks for everything.

Please don’t be a stranger.

- N.