Title: Breakfast with the Enemy
Author: rivensky
Pairing: Greg/David Hodges
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult themes
Summary: It's just breakfast. It doesn't mean anything.
For allhoneyboo who is to blame for the following madness.

_Breakfast with the Enemy_

He was pretty sure there was something in the water. He looked at it again, examining it closely. He knew if he looked close enough he'd be able to find that little spec of. something; that thing that was making his stomach itch. "You realize you've been staring at that glass of water for fifteen minutes now."

Greg Sanders looked up to find David Hodges leaning on the doorframe of the break room. "You were counting?" he questioned with a glare.

Hodges pushed himself away from the doorframe. "That water is either extra special or your losing your mind." Hodges moved to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. "I'm betting on the latter." He set his cup on the table and reached for a sugar pack. He narrowed his eyes. "Unless that's Vodka."

"Don't you have evidence to trace?"

"Don't you have crime scenes to contaminate?"

Greg snarled and downed the last of his water and bit back the feeling in his stomach that he was trying to convince himself came from the water. He moved to throw his plastic cup in the trash, shouldering Hodges out of his way. That shouldering thing was becoming a habit of theirs.

*

It was four o'clock in the morning and as he leaned against the restroom stall all he could think about was the last time he'd had real physical contact with someone. And he didn't mean bumping shoulders with the annoying guy from Trace. He remembered having more fun when he was working DNA, but he wondered if it was maybe because he was getting older. Perhaps he had lost that spark that had kept him going before.

The restroom door banged opened and he turned. Hodges. Great. "Is this where you hang out now days?" Hodges thought he was so snarky. Greg wondered if snarky was a word. He rolled his eyes and headed for the door as Hodges stepped up to a urinal. As he left he heard Hodges whistling and cursed the man for always being around.

*

Greg had learned early on in his career that he shouldn't let coworkers bother him. Ecklie had always been right there on the edge and even though Ecklie was the devil he still hadn't let the man get under his skin. David Hodges was an entirely different thing.

The first time Greg had found himself at the local 24-hour diner with Hodges two stools down, he'd pretended they didn't know each other. and Hodges seemed more than willing to participate in that game. He wasn't sure entirely when, but at some point the stools had dwindled until there weren't any between them and the occasional breakfast together became a disturbingly usual thing. What disturbed him the most was when Hodges didn't show up and he found himself missing the company. He sometimes wondered if Hodges felt the same when he couldn't make it after the graveyard shift was over.

Breakfast with Hodges was something that could be written about in paranormal magazines. They could go an entire breakfast without talking to each other and it seemed perfectly normal. Sometimes they would discuss that morning's news or the sports scores from the night before. Occasionally Hodges would mention something about the ex-wife in LA and his daughter. They never discussed work. And when they were at work, they never discussed anything from the diner.

It was only when Nick made a rude comment about Hodges and Greg almost tried to defend the man that he realized that something had changed. He was still rude to Hodges at work and Hodges was still the snarkiest son-of-a-bitch that ever lived, but that was the work- Hodges. Diner-Hodges was like a totally different man. Greg was almost embarrassed to admit that he considered Diner-Hodges a friend. He ignored Nick and made sure he was there after shift when Hodges sat down on his usual stool.

*

"Well maybe you did it wrong."

"It's a GCMS, dumbass, you can't do it wrong."

Greg let out a frustrated growl and threw the report back on Hodges desk. "Fine. Don't come crying to me when Grissom chews your head off."

"I'll have to remember to tell that waitress to stop putting so much kiss-ass in your French toast every morning. Your head's going to get permanently stuck up Grissom's ass." Greg didn't stop at the doorway because of Hodges rude comment. When he turned he knew they both realized that it was the first time they'd ever mentioned their routine of eating breakfast together. Greg frowned and left, a feeling growing inside him.

Greg wondered what everyone would think if they knew about his and Hodges morning routine. No one else ever ate at that diner. Most of the night crew usually went straight home and Sara and Grissom and a few others only ever went to the Denny's that was half a block closer, and had much better service, than their diner. Their diner. The thought made Greg stop in the middle of the hall. Hodges brushed past him, a hard shoulder, and only glanced back briefly before heading out the front door.

"Coming to Denny's?' Sara asked as she and Grissom headed for the door.

A moment went by. "No thanks," Greg answered. "See you tonight."

"You always eat at that crappy diner with Hodges," Sara said. "People are going to start to wonder." Greg's eyes widened as he looked from her to Grissom, who only gave him his patented quirk of the eyebrow. So everyone already knew. He hoped they didn't think. they wouldn't. God, he hoped not.

*

"What makes you come here?" Greg asked, swirling his glass of water.

"The wonderful service and excellent coffee," Hodges answered. Greg gave him a sideways glance. "You want to know what my ex-wife told me when I asked her why she wanted a divorce?" Greg turned to fully look at Hodges. When he didn't answer, Hodges continued, "She said I never talked to her. She never knew what I was thinking. That and I was an asshole."

They were silent for a while as the waitress set their meals, French toast for Greg and scrambled eggs for Hodges, down in front of them. "Maybe she just didn't understand your silences," Greg said idly as he poured syrup over his toast and pushed the cup towards Hodges. The other man took it and poured it liberally over his eggs and sausage. Greg passed him the ketchup for his hash browns. "And you are an asshole."

"Thank you," Hodges answered, and it sounded so sincere Greg wasn't sure what he was being thanked for.

*

It would be a long time before Greg realized that their regular routine of eating breakfast together had become a daily occurrence. Each had even started showing up on their days off. No one ever mentioned it at work and neither mentioned it at work or at the diner. Diner-Hodges had become Dave at some point in Greg's mind and he never questioned the change. Hodges was still an asshole. Greg still liked to tick him off as much as possible in the lab. But breakfast was still side-by-side at the diner each and every morning of the week. Just Greg and Dave, buddies from work if you asked any of the staff or other patrons of the diner.

Greg still liked to examine his water on occasion. Especially when he felt Dave's knee touching his and neither made any move to separate the offending knees as they perched on their stools. He would have thought it was the diner water if it wasn't for the shoulder-bumping incidents at work and so he began considering the possible contamination of all Las Vegas water. Switching to bottled water was deemed fruitless, though, and Hodges only chastised his taste in "freshly bottled tap water" anyway.

As for the shoulder-bumping incidents, Greg was convinced one of the two of them had bad depth perception. Greg naturally blamed Hodges, but the feeling that he always felt after Hodges brushed past him only made him doubt his own intentions. The words I'm going insane were becoming commonplace in Greg's train of thought.

"Hey, Dave, you got the results back on that fiber yet?" Greg asked as he entered Trace.

"Yeah," Hodges answered. "Blue upholstery. Commonly used in newer Toyotas. Didn't you mention something about a Tacoma pickup?"

"I did. Thanks."

"No problem."

Greg was halfway down the hall when he slammed into a metaphorical brick wall and almost knocked Catherine over. "You okay?" she asked. Greg could only nod. He looked back through the glass walls at Trace as Hodges continued working on. whatever he was working on.

*

He knew he'd stopped caring about their knees touching at the diner and the shoulder incidents had become more playful as of late. His skin felt like it was going to itch right off of him on his days off and on Hodges days off. The only cure was the knee against knee action the seclusion of their corner stools provided them.

And at 5:30 in the morning in the lab restrooms Greg was leaning up against his usual stall door with a feeling of calm realization. Hodges entered the restroom and gave him that look of annoyance. Greg didn't leave as Hodges made his way towards a urinal. He was looking away when Hodges changed his course and came to stand in front of him. Greg looked at him confused. The other man pressed a hand against the stall partition only inches away from Greg's shoulder. Greg let out a shaking breath and it echoed against the tiles of the restroom.

He wasn't expecting Hodges other hand to push him into the stall, but allowed it to happened with wide eyes. The stall door swung closed and Greg was pushed to the side. Hodges' silence spoke volumes to Greg as they stared at each other, Hodges' hand still on Greg's chest. Like a flick of a switch in Greg's head it was Dave standing in front of him and then in an instant it was gone as Hodges' hand moved to Greg's neck and their lips came together. Hodges mouth opened and Greg followed suit, his body caving as a tongue brushed against his. That damn-offending knee was pressed between his legs, the thigh pressing against his groin. Greg moaned, a noise he almost didn't recognize as his own.

The air seemed to be sucked out of him as Hodges pulled away. He straightened Greg's shirt and smirked as he left the stall. A moment passed and Greg came back to life. "You asshole," he called after the other man and heard a laugh as the restroom door closed. There was definitely something in the water.