Title: Two Hearts
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ryan Wolfe
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
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 Ryan Wolfe, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Greg sighed contentedly as he snuggled close against his boyfriend; Ryan smiled and tightened his arm around Greg's slender waist, feeling tired but sated. Every time they made love it seemed to get better; he could still feel the pleasure coursing through his body.

He could easily drift off to sleep like this, holding his boyfriend in his arms and thinking about nothing in particular other than how much he loved Greg. This was how he wished every night at work would end, with them coming home, making love, and just being together.

Greg sat up, propping himself on one elbow and looking down at Ryan. He reached out a hand to stroke his knuckles down Ryan's cheek, making the other man smile softly up at him. Ryan caught Greg's hand, bringing his lover's fingers to his lips and kissing them.

"You could ask me anything right now, and I'd say yes," he said softly, gazing up into Greg's face. He wanted to drink in the man he loved, to fix the memory of how Greg looked at this moment into his mind so that he would never forget the sight.

"Would you?" Greg tilted his head to the side, a question in his eyes. "Because I did want to ask you something. Well, it's not so much a question as a request. There's something I want you to do, Ry. I just hope you'll agree to it."

Ryan's brow furrowed slightly, wondering what it was that Greg meant to ask him. It couldn't be anything terrible, not if his lover wanted it, he told himself. He waited expectantly, reaching out to stroke a hand down Greg's bare arm.

When Greg didn't speak, Ryan sat up and gathered his boyfriend into his arms, whispering into his ear. "What is it, baby?" he asked, nuzzling his cheek against Greg's. "Don't be scared to ask me for anything you want. You know I can't say no to you."

"I-I ...." Greg stammered, not looking up at Ryan. He took a deep breath, finally raising his face to his boyfriend's, looking as though he was sorry he'd said anything. "I want you to collar me," he finally whispered, a red flush staining his cheeks as he said the words.

Ryan's eyes widened; he was more startled by his boyfriend's words than he'd expected to be. But with Greg looking at him with that pleading expression on his face, how could he say no to what was, after all, a simple request? Still, he had no idea what to say.

"You don't mean .... like a .... slave collar, do you?" he finally managed to say, wondering why on earth Greg would want him to do something like that. "Greg, you're not my slave. If you feel like you are, then there's something very wrong with our relationship."

Greg shook his head, looking up at Ryan with tear-filled eyes. "No! That's not what I mean," he whispered, his voice choked. He sounded as though he was about to burst into tears; Ryan hugged him close, raising a hand to stroke his hair.

"Then what did you mean, sweetheart?" he asked, wishing that he hadn't put his question so bluntly. "Shhh, Greg, it's okay," he whispered, trying to soothe his boyfriend. "I just don't understand what you mean. Don't get upset, baby. Please."

"Do you really think there's something wrong with our relationship?" Greg was crying openly now; Ryan could have bitten his tongue out for his unguarded words. The last thing he had wanted to do was upset his lover, and it seemed that he had managed to do just that.

"No, I don't," Ryan told him, holding Greg close against him and stroking the other man's hair. "I didn't mean it like that, Greg. I swear I didn't. There's nothing wrong with us, baby. Shhh, sweetheart, I love you. Calm down, Greg, it's okay. Just explain what you mean by a collar."

Greg sniffled, shaking his head. "Nothing," he said in a low voice. "Forget I said anything. I shoudn't have brought it up. It was a stupid idea, anyway." Greg moved away from Ryan, not looking at him, rolling over to the other side of the bed with his back to his boyfriend.

Ryan wanted to burst into tears himself; somehow, he'd yet again managed to damage his relationship with the man he loved over a misunderstanding. Moving closer to Greg, he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend's waist from behind, pressing kisses against Greg's bare shoulder.

"Greg, please don't be upset," he pleaded, his voice breaking on the last word. "I'm sorry if I said the wrong thing, sweetheart. I didn't mean to hurt you." He couldn't hold back the few tears that trickled down his face, falling onto Greg's skin and streaking down his chest.

Greg turned over to look up at him, reaching out a trembling hand to wipe away the tears from Ryan's cheeks. "Don't cry," he whispered, tears glistening in his own eyes. "Don't, Ry. I love you. I love you so much. I can't stand to see you hurting. Please, please don't cry."

He sat up, wrapping his arms around Ryan and holding him close. They sat there for what seemed like a long time, wrapped in each other's arms, until Greg finally looked up and pulled away slightly. Ryan gave him a wan smile, raising a hand to stroke his hair.

"What I meant was .... not like a slave collar," Greg explained, his voice soft and a little hesitant. "Like a necklace that I never have to take off. Something that you put on me. Something that shows the world I'm taken, without making a statement about who it is."

Ryan nodded, leaning forward to brush his mouth gently against Greg's parted lips. "I'd like that," he said, his voice soft and husky. "We can go pick it out tomorrow, if you want to. I just have one condition," he added, a smile curving his lips.

"What's that?" Greg frowned, drawing away from him slightly. "If you've got any kind of doubts, then we shouldn't do it. I don't want anything to screw up our relationship, Ry. You know that. If this is going to cause problems, then let's just forget about it."

"It's not going to cause a problem at all," Ryan told him, his smile growing broader. "My only condition is that if I'm going to collar you -- then you have to do the same to me. We belong to each other, after all. And I want to wear a symbol that shows the world I'm in love."

Greg swallowed hard, tears coming back into his eyes. Ryan leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to Greg's lips, hoping that his boyfriend wouldn't cry again. "I want us both to have those symbols, Greg. If you wear a collar, then so do I. I'm as much yours as you're mine."

"Then it's not really a collar, is it?" asked Greg, his voice very soft. "It's a statement that we belong to each other. That's all I intended for it to be -- a symbol that I belong to you. But you're right -- if one of us wears one, then we both should."

"I don't want to own you, Greg," Ryan said, his tone serious. "I wouldn't ever want you to feel like that, either. Owning somebody and loving them are two different things. If you want to own a person, that means you don't trust them. And I trust you completely."

"I trust you, too," Greg told him, stroking soft fingertips down Ryan's cheek. "I just .... want to have some kind of symbol on me that shows I'm yours. I know it might sound stupid, but I'd feel more secure by having that. But if you don't want to ...."

His voice trailed off; he looked down again, swallowing hard. Ryan took both of Greg's hands in his own, clearing his throat softly; when Greg looked back up at him, he smiled and leaned forward, brushing a kiss against the other man's cheek, then his lips.

"Of course I want to," he said, squeezing his boyfriend's hands. "I want to be able to look at you every day, wherever we are, and know that you can feel that collar around your neck and that it makes you think of me. And I want to be able to feel the same way."

His words had the desired effect; Greg's smile seemed like a ray of sunshine that could cut through the darkest, most grey day. Ryan caught his breath when he saw that smile; he didn't think he had ever had the privilege of viewing anything so beautiful in his life.

"We'll go shopping for those collars after work tomorrow, okay?" he murmured, letting go of Greg's hands and sliding his arms around his lover's waist to pull the other man close against him. "It might take a while. They have to be the right ones."

Greg nodded, snuggling against him as they both lay down. "Would it be too much to ask that we get something with a heart?" he asked, sounding like a child waiting for a present from Santa Claus. "Maybe two hearts. Two hearts that lock together."

"That would be perfect," Ryan said with a smile, hoping that they could find something like what Greg was describing. The more he thought about wearing a collar, or some kind of necklace, that symbolized his connection to Greg, the more he liked it.

Of course, they already had the promise rings -- but he had to wear his on a chain. Maybe it was time to change that. Aloud, he mused, "I may start wearing my promise ring on my finger. I don't think anybody would get suspicious about that, since you've been wearing yours for a while."

"I think it's time you started wearing your promise ring on your finger, so I can see it on you the way that you can see mine," Greg answered, closing his eyes and snuggling against Ryan. "And then we'll both have something that we're wearing openly -- and something else that's a secret."

Ryan laughed softly, agreeing with his boyfriend's words. He closed his eyes, sighing contentedly as he snuggled down under the covers beside Greg. Tomorrow, they would get those collars -- and he had a feeling that they would both enjoy wearing them.

***