Confessions

Gil stared at the piles of laundry on the floor of his bedroom. He had been putting it off, he really hated laundry, he hated any type of housework. Today was his day off, he should be doing something interesting, but here he was staring at his laundry. How long had it been since he had done anything around the house? He couldn't remember. It just seemed that he had been working nonstop lately.

He tossed his first load of clothes into the washer and was staring at the pile of dirty dishes by the sink when his cell phone rang. Nick's name appeared on the screen. Gil let it ring.

Yesterday's incident with Nick running his mouth to his old school pal could have compromised the case. Nick knew he was in the wrong. Warrick and Catherine both knew about it. Gil was supposed to do the supervisor thing and 'talk' to Nick. He knew Nick was on pins and needles waiting. Nick had actually thought that Gil had been going to chew him out at the crime scene yesterday afternoon.

When Gil had told Nick to close the door, he had only wanted to see the motel room like the killer had, but Nick had assumed that Gil was going to give him a dressing down and didn't want witnesses. If Gil was honest with himself, he knew that chewing Nick out was the last thing he would do. Nick had made a mistake; he knew he had made a mistake, so why should Gil rake him over the coals about it?

Gil gave himself a mental shake and opened the dishwasher. He thought about Nick entirely too much. Thoughts that a supervisor shouldn't have about his subordinate. Thoughts a man shouldn't have about another man. Gil roughly started shoving dishes into the dishwasher.

He didn't want to think about Nick and he sure as hell didn't want to be doing housework. After he had loaded the dishwasher and started it, he opened his refrigerator. Old take-out food, a six-pack of beer and a ziplock bag of chocolate covered grasshoppers were the only things in there. He tossed the take-out food and took out the trash. His cell phone rang again. Nick, again. Once more, he let it ring.

As he was coming back from his trashcan, he stopped off and got his mail. His electric bill, an advertisement from a local grocery store chain and a small brown package from The Bug Gourmet were the only things in the mailbox. Once he got back inside, the advertisement went into the trashcan, the bill was tossed on his desk and he took the package into the kitchen.

Gil got a paring knife out of the drawer and slit open the package. Chinese scorpions, fried and dipped in white chocolate. According to the ancient Chinese, they were said to be an aphrodisiac. Great, Gil thought, just what he needed. Maybe if he got Nick to eat a couple...Gil growled and stomped out of the kitchen.

He would go crazy if he had to stay cooped up any longer. He grabbed his jacket and keys and opened his front door. He was in his SUV a few seconds later. He sat for a minute, wondering where he could go. He would go out to the desert and poke around for insects, that always relaxed him. He put the key into the ignition and put the SUV in reverse. The sound of a horn startled him and he slammed on the brakes. He hadn't looked behind him because no one should have been in his driveway. Looking back now, he groaned. Nick was staring at him from the windshield of his Tahoe.

Gil sat there, waiting for Nick to make the first move. It didn't take long. Nick got out and walked up on the driver's side of Gil's SUV. Gil waited until Nick was at the window before opening it. Nick removed his mirrored sunglasses and spoke.

"Grissom, look, I know you're mad at me and I waited the entire shift for you to rack my balls and you never did. Were you planning on waiting until evaluations? I need to know if I'm getting a reprimand. I really fucked up and I hate that you're just ignoring me. Just yell at me and get it over with. I'm going crazy here." Nick finally paused long enough to take a breath.

"Nick, you aren't getting a written reprimand, nothing is going in your file, and nothing will be said at evaluation time. Now, could you move your truck, so I can leave."

"So, I fucked up and you aren't going to do anything about it?" Nick was incredulous.

"Is that a problem?" Gil raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Yes, I mean no." Nick took a step back and cocked his head to one side. "I just thought...."

"Nick, just go." Gil turned and stared straight ahead, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He prayed that Nick would just get in his truck and drive away. He couldn't take any one on one time with him right now. He wasn't in the mood.

"Sure, Griss." Nick put his sunglasses back on and took another step backwards.

"Griss?" Nick said hesitantly.

"What?" Gil snapped out.

"Nothing. Forget it." Nick turned and stomped off. Gil watched in the rearview mirror as Nick got into his vehicle and backed out onto the road. He squealed his tires as he pulled off. Gil rested his forehead on the steering wheel.

"Well, that went great." Gil said into the empty truck. He let out a sigh and backed out of his driveway.

****

Nick's stomach hurt. He knew Grissom was mad at him. He deserved to be reprimanded. Why was Grissom just ignoring him? He acted like he didn't want to be around Nick at all.

On his way home, Nick swung into a liquor store and picked up a bottle of dark rum. Once he was home, he made himself a rum and Coke in a large plastic cup and decided to get drunk. Three tall glasses later, he was well on his way.

He lay on his couch, listening to an old Dwight Yokam CD. Nick was usually a beer drinker, so the hard liquor made him not only drunk, but depressed as well. He closed his eyes and thought of Gil Grissom, the man he respected like a father, but his feeling for Grissom went beyond that. He wanted Grissom to touch him, kiss him, just once, if Grissom would kiss him just once, maybe he'd realize how much he meant to Nick.

Maybe he should call him and apologize again.

****

Several hours later, Gil pulled into his driveway and shut off the vehicle. His foray into the desert was not nearly as satisfying as he had hoped. He was dusty and thirsty and wanted a nap.

Once he was inside, he tossed down his keys and hung up his jacket. He needed something to drink and a long shower. He opened the refrigerator and eyed the beer for a second, then settled for a glass of ice water. He drank deeply, refilled his glass and took it upstairs.

The shower felt good and after he toweled off, he dressed in a pair of boxers and an old UCLA t-shirt. He padded downstairs on bare feet and picked up the stack of take-out menus on the counter by the phone. Chinese, pizza, steak, Mexican, he was hungry but couldn't decide on what he wanted. He tossed the menus back on the counter and thought about the frozen dinners that he kept in the freezer. He turned towards the kitchen and that's when he saw his answering machine light blinking.

Gil hit the play button and Nick's voice filled the room.

"Griss, I'm really sorry that I fucked up. I didn't mean to disappoint you. Please don't be mad at me anymore." Nick's voice sounded strange, and Gil assumed that Nick had been drinking.

Gil replayed the message. Maybe he should have told Nick he wasn't mad. He couldn't stay mad at Nick. Gil sat down on his couch and rubbed his hands over his face. Maybe he should just call Nick and tell him that everything was fine. He leaned over and hit the play button once more.

Gil listened to the message five more times before he got the nerve to pick up his cell phone. He opened and closed it four times before he scrolled down to Nick's name. Biting his lip, he hit the green button and heard the ringing.

"Stokes." Nick slurred.

"Nick, it's Grissom."

"I'm sorry you're mad. Please don't hate me." Nick's voice was barely a whisper.

"Nick, it's okay. I'm not mad and I could never hate you. How much have you had to drink?" Gil said softly.

"Don't know. A few." Nick sounded a bit defensive.

Gil backed off. "Nick, I'm not mad at you. Okay?"

"But I really fucked up."

"So. I screw up sometimes too." Gil replied.

"No you don't. You're perfect."

"No one's perfect, Nick. And I'm very far from it."

"I wish I was like you." Nick whispered.

"Why?" Gil leaned back on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table.

"You just have all your ducks in a row. You don't let your feelings and emotions get in the way."

"I can't afford to let my feelings and emotions get in the way." Gil said honestly.

"Why not?" Nick asked.

"Because people might misunderstand."

"Have you ever been in love?"

"I really don't want to talk about this." Gil said firmly.

"If you love someone, should you tell them?" Nick asked quietly.

Gil tensed. Was Nick going to confess his feeling about some woman? Was he going to have to listen to his drunken ramblings about falling for some beautiful woman? He just couldn't do this. He needed to end this conversation before it got any further.

"Nick, I'm not the best person to ask about stuff like this."

"Griss, if I tell you a secret that no one knows, will you tell me one?" Nick's voice was getting harder to understand. Gil figured that Nick was still drinking.

Nick took another sip of false courage and waited for Grissom's answer.

"Nick, we both need some sleep and I really don't think we should be having this conversation."

"I've been with men before." Nick whispered.

Gil wasn't really sure he heard what he thought he heard. In fact, he was almost positive that he had misunderstood Nick.

"Why don't you go get some sleep? Please don't drink anymore, Nicky." Gil pleaded.

"Tell me a secret, Griss. Please."

"Nicky, I can't. I'm hanging up now. Get some sleep." Gil said and folded his phone to break the connection.

Nick dropped his phone to the floor and even as the tears were coursing down his cheeks, fell into a deep sleep.

****

Gil slept fitfully that afternoon. His conversation with Nick kept replaying itself over and over again. When he finally did sleep, he dreamed of Nick's boyish grin. He awoke around 8:00. It was dark outside and his entire night lay in front of him. Maybe he would go to a movie.

There was a Humphrey Bogart double feature playing at the Classic Movie Palace. He sat through The African Queen, and as the opening credits of The Maltese Falcon ran across the screen, Gil found he couldn't sit still any longer.

He stood outside the theater a few minutes later, shivering. The desert air was cold this time of year and he had only brought his light jacket. He slowly walked back to his SUV and started the ignition. While the truck warmed up, he sat thinking about Nick. Maybe he should have reprimanded Nick, maybe he should have written him up and had him transferred to days.

"Right, like you'd let that happen." Gil said aloud. He would just have to arrange for Nick to work with his teammates and not him. If they weren't paired together, than things would just work out. He took a deep breath and put the SUV in drive.

Ten minutes later, he was on a residential street on the east side of town. He really had not thought about driving by Nick's house, it just happened. He told himself that he was worried about the younger CSI and just wanted to make sure he was okay.

There was a dim light coming from the front window and Gil knew it was the television. No other lights were on in the house. Nick's SUV was parked outside. Gil shifted into park and let the vehicle idle. He stared at the small house, remembering the words that Nick had whispered. Surely, Gil had misunderstood. Nick was arrow straight; he was a Texan for God's sake. Gil had heard the locker room talk, Nick loved woman and was apparently very lucky with them.

Gil bit his lower lip and put the SUV in drive. He sighed and put it back in park and shut off the engine. He'd just go to the door, tell Nick he wasn't mad at him and everything would be back to normal before shift tomorrow night. Maybe Nick wouldn't even answer the door. Maybe he had just passed out and wouldn't remember even talking to Gil.

Gil knocked softly, subconsciously not wanting to be heard. He waited a few seconds and then turned to go. The door opened, allowing the noise from the television out into the night.

Gil could see Nick's silhouette and accessed that Nick was still not steady on his feet.

"'lo" Nick said. He reached up and turned on the porch light, blinding them both.

"Griss? Wha you doin' here." Nick said drunkenly.

"I just came to check on you. Can I come in?"

Nick moved back a step, almost stumbling as he did so. "Sure."

Gil walked past Nick and entered the living room. Nick followed unsteadily behind him. Nick let himself fall back on the couch. Gil sat down at the other end of the couch.

"Nicky, I just wanted to tell you that I'm not mad, okay? You made a mistake, one that I know you will never make again."

Nick just looked at him blankly for a few seconds and then said, "I don't know why I always dis...disappoint you. I just....just want you to love me...." Nick's voice trailed off and he leaned his head back on the couch staring at the ceiling.

Gil stared at the younger man, totally at a loss for words. Finally, he spoke, "Nicky, I don't know what to say to you."

"Just forget it, will ya." Nick continued to stare at the ceiling.

Gil looked around him, trying to get his bearings back. His eyes locked on the bottle of rum on the kitchen counter. It was almost empty. Damn, how much did he have to drink? Gil stood up and put the cap on the bottle and sat it on top of the refrigerator. He rummaged around until he found a small canister of coffee and some coffee filters. Once he had started the coffee brewing, he went back into the living room.

Nick was in the same position and Gil wondered if he was asleep. He stared at the handsome face. He wondered what caused you to be attracted to another person. He was so attracted to Nick, always had been. It wasn't just his looks, but God knows they helped, but his personality. He was funny and genuine. He wasn't afraid to show is emotions, be it anger or sadness. Gil wondered what it would be like to hold this man against him, to touch him intimately. Gil clenched his teeth as he realized his cock had grown hard. He turned and went back into the kitchen. He stood at the counter, gripping the edge while trying to will his erection to go away.

The coffee finished brewing and he poured two cups. He made Nick's with milk and sugar. He knew Nick liked it that way because they had worked together for so long. He tried to remember how Warrick liked his, but couldn't. Strange, he thought, he had worked with Warrick just as long, so why didn't he know how he took his coffee.

He took the mugs into the living room and sat them on the coffee table.

"Nick, wake up." Gil gently shook the other man's arm.

Nick started. "Wha, what?" He looked around with confusion.

"Nick, I want you to drink some coffee." Gil helped Nick sit up and handed him his mug.

Nick took the offered mug and took a few sips. He closed his eyes. "Why are you still here?"

"Because I think you needed a friend tonight." Gil said softly.

Nick smiled sardonically, "Yeah, that's ex...exactly what I need."

"Nicky, we need to talk once you are sober."

"I don't want to...to talk. I wanna make out." Nick looked at Gil defiantly.

Gil just looked back at Nick. He knew that the alcohol had given Nick some false courage; otherwise the Nick he knew would never be saying things like this. He also knew that tomorrow, Nick would be mortified if he remembered his conversation at all.

"I do want you, Nick."

Gil really didn't know why he decided to say what he did. It just came out and once it was out there, he could not take it back, he just hoped that Nick wouldn't remember this conversation. Maybe he should dump the coffee and pour Nick another rum and Coke to clear his memory.

Once Gil's words registered in Nick's alcohol fogged brain, he almost spilled his coffee. Gil reached over and took the coffee mug to avoid disaster and sat it on the table.

"You need to sleep this off." Gil stood and reached down for Nick's hand. "Come on, let's get you into bed."

"With you?" Nick asked as he stood with Gil's help.

Gil smiled at him. "No, Nicky."

"Why not." Gil put his arm around Nick and led him down the hallway.

"There are lots of reasons. Tonight, it's because you're drunk." Gil said as he led him into a bedroom, assuming it was Nick's.

"Will you tuck me in and kiss me goodnight." Nick said playfully.

"Oh, Nick, you'd try the patience of a saint." Gil pushed Nick down on the bed and removed his shoes and socks.

When Gil looked up, Nick was asleep. He pushed Nick over to get the bedspread out from under him and covered him up.

Gil stood in the middle of Nick's living room wondering what to do. Should he go home and just let Nick sleep it off. Or should he stay and get some rest on the couch and wait for Nick to sleep it off. Either way, Gil knew that they would be having a serious discussion.

Gil opted for the couch. It was long enough for Gil's frame and he'd slept on worse; so it didn't take him long to fall asleep.

Something woke Gil. At first, he didn't know where he was, then the previous nights events came crashing through his brain. He lay there for a few seconds, and then he heard the sound again. It sounded like someone was getting sick. Gil smiled ruefully, Nick appeared to be paying for his night of drinking.

Gil stood and stretched, then made his way into the kitchen. He started another pot of coffee and leaned against the counter to wait. As the coffee brewed, he thought about what he was going to say to Nick and rehearsed it over and over in his mind.

Nick's appearance in the hallway knocked all of his prepared speech out the window. Nick was dressed in a pair of faded jeans, left unbuttoned, and nothing else. His hair was sticking out in every direction and his face was pale. Gil thought he was the sexiest man he had ever seen.

Nick's eyes focused on Gil and he halted. "Fuck."

Gil's eyebrows rose, "Excuse me?"

"It wasn't a bad dream."

"Is that a question or a statement?" Gil asked.

"It seems to be a fact." Nick said.

"Would you like a cup of coffee?" Gil poured himself a cup and reached for another mug.

"No, no coffee." Nick shook his head adamantly. "Need Sprite or ginger ale."

"Sick to your stomach?" Gil said with a slight smirk.

Nick just gave him a dirty look and opened the refrigerator. He pulled out a can of Sprite and pulled the tab. After a few sips, he brought the can up to his forehead and leaned into the coolness.

"Nick, we need to talk." Gil took a sip of his coffee and once again, leaned on the counter.

"Do we have to do this right now?" Nick muttered.

"Yes. I think we do." Gil leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

"How much do you remember about last night?" Gil asked quietly.

"Enough." Nick turned his back on Gil and stared out his kitchen window.

"Are you really bisexual or was that the alcohol talking?"

"Grissom, I don't think I can talk about this with you."

"You didn't seem to have a problem with it last night." Gil's voice had gotten a bit louder and Nick winced. His head was throbbing and his stomach was rolling. He wasn't sure if it was all the rum or embarrassment because of his confessions to his boss.

"Please." Nick turned around and Gil saw the pleading in Nick's eyes.

"Nicky, things were said last night that will change our working relationship, whether we want it to or not. I don't think you understand. You confessed that you like men, that alone was enough to floor me, but then you made a drunken pass at me. Jesus, Nick, do you know how fucking hard it was to walk out of your bedroom last night?"

Nick was puzzled. Did Grissom return his feeling?

"What do you want from me, Nick? I just don't know what to think. Is this a manifestation of some hero worship, or do you have real feelings for me, or do you just want a quick romp in the hay?"

Before Nick could formulate an answer, Gil continued. "You've always been my favorite. You had to know that, and then you started this shit yesterday about evaluations, and disappointing me, and...and....Hell!" Gil ran his hand through his hair, leaving it even more rumpled than it already was after a night on Nick's couch.

"I just don't know what to do now." Gil walked out of the kitchen and found his shoes by the couch. He sat down and slipped them on.

"Are you leaving?" Nick's voice was a whisper behind him and Gil closed his eyes and sighed.

"Yes. I'm going to walk out that door and forget these last few days happened. Tonight, we are both going to come into work and act as if you didn't make those confessions and I didn't almost act on them. Even if it kills it kills me."

"So, you want to forget everything?"

"Yes." Gil's voice was curt.

"Okay." Nick said and Gil watched the younger man walk down the hall to his bedroom and shut his door.

Gil pressed his hands to his face and shook his head slowly. How was he going to pull this off? Gil let out his breath and rose from the couch. He took one last look at Nick's closed door and let himself out.

****

Gil arrived at the lab thirty minutes before the shift began as usual. He hung his jacket up in his locker and went to his office to catch up on the never-ending pile of paperwork on his desk.

He glanced up when he heard Catherine's laugh. She was walking down the hall with Warrick and they had obviously shared a joke. Sara entered Gil's field of vision and he smiled. Sara was special to him, not in the way she wanted, but special nonetheless. They had a lot in common and he considered her a friend.

Nick came in seconds later and Gil dropped his eyes to the files in front of him. He hoped that Nick would walk on by.

"Grissom, I need to transfer to dayshift."

Gil hadn't known what to expect today, but this hadn't even been an option. "Nick, no. We can work this out. We're both adults here."

Gil actually felt panic. He could not loose Nick. Nick was part of his team.

"I've already talked to Ecklie and he thought that he could arrange things. I'm sure he'll want to clear things with you, so..." Nick shrugged his shoulders. Before Gil could say anything more, Nick was gone.

Gil sat staring into space until Catherine came to his door. "Gil, we're waiting for you in the conference room. Are you okay?"

Gil blinked at her and glanced up at the clock. He had been sitting there for fifteen minutes. Without answering Catherine, Gil stood up and brushed past her. Catherine watched him stomp down the hall and wondered what had caused him to act so strangely.

Gil entered the conference room and Catherine soon followed. He gave out all the assignments and watched Nick closely when he said, "Nick, you're with me."

Nick's face was a blank mask and as his team filed out, Gil didn't think anyone noticed anything amiss.

"I'll wait by your truck." Nick said stiffly.

"Okay, I'll be there in a second." Gil watched Nick walked down the hall and out the double doors to the lab parking lot. He had to make this better and he didn't have much time.

****

Nick was leaning against the Denali with his kit at his feet when Gil walked up. Gil pushed the button to his keyless entry and Nick turned and put his kit in the back seat. He was buckling himself in when Gil opened the driver's door.

Gil started the engine and let it idle. After a few minutes, Nick turned from the window and looked at him.

"Aren't we going?"

"In a minute. First, I want to apologize."

"For what?" Nick turned back to the window.

"I've handled this whole thing very badly, probably from the start." Gil's voice was quiet in the confines of the truck. Nick continued to look out at the parking lot at the lab staff coming and going.

"I should have given you a verbal reprimand for jeopardizing the case. I didn't because you knew what you did was wrong, and quite frankly, I find it very hard to get mad with you."

Nick turned and looked at Gil. Gil was staring at his hands gripping the steering wheel.

"It appears to me that we've started a 'domino effect'. If I had reprimanded you, you probably would not have gotten upset and drunk off your ass. Then, you would not have called me. Then, I would not have been worried and then, I would not have come to your house. The events go on from there. I've had silly little dreams of you confessing that you wanted me for years, and suddenly I'm faced with the real thing. Only, the sad part is, you were too drunk to even stand up at the time."

Gil paused and took a deep breath. Nick waited.

"I was angry at you for giving me what I wanted under those circumstances. And...and I handled things badly. I hope you can forgive me and we can go back to being...being...what we were before all this started."

Nick turned back to the window again. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"What if I want more than what we had before this started?"

"Nick...."

"I'm stone cold sober now, Griss."

Gil smiled and brushed his fingertips across Nick's cheek. "Yeah, I guess you are."