Title: Crushed
By: Chapin CSI
Pairing: Gil/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: In "Play With Fire," the lab explodes, injuring Greg. In "Inside The Box," Grissom undergoes surgery.
Note: Have you ever seen "The Beast"? WP stars in it; he plays a fisherman who battles a giant squid. It's a good role for him, and he's the main reason to watch the movie.
Warning: I don't speak English and it shows in my stories; luckily, my readers are very forgiving. Thanks!
Summary: Romance and Humor. Greg has a crush on certain actor, and Grissom's jealous.

***

Greg was watching TV from the cozy comfort of his couch. He liked this movie; nothing could draw his attention away from it... until he heard the sound of a key turning on the door lock.

Greg looked up just in time to see Gil Grissom push the door open with his shoulder, while juggling a half-dozen paper bags in his arms.

"Hey," Greg greeted.

"Hey," Grissom replied, as he leant back on the door to close it. Then he took the bags to the kitchen.

Greg recognized some of the logos: The Healthy Paradise Grocery Store; Mamma Mia's Deli (his favorite); LVPD Pharmacy Store...

"Want any help?" He called out, knowing very well that Grissom would say no. Gil didn't even answer; he opened the bags and started putting the groceries away. "I don't like feeling so useless." Greg sighed.

"The more you rest now, the sooner you'll be back at the lab," Grissom said reasonably.

Greg sighed. He was lying down on the couch, on his left side -the side that didn't hurt. He was still recovering from minor injuries he'd suffered during an explosion that had destroyed his lab.

His bones were intact, but the skin on the right side of his body was a ghoulish black and blue now, and his face looked as if he routinely used sandpaper to shave.

But things could have been worse. At least, that's what everyone said. He'd disagreed; as he'd said to Nick Stokes, 'What can be worse than having to take a leave of absence just when I was about to make some much-needed money from overtime? And what can be worse than having my face dotted with little band-aids, as if I were a pimply teenager?'

Nick had patiently reminded Greg that he was lucky to be alive, and Greg had grudgingly agreed. However, every time Grissom dropped by, Greg was reminded of yet another reason not to feel lucky:

He was still too bruised to have sex.

Morosely, Greg turned his attention back to the TV. There was some consolation, there. At least, he got to watch his favorite movies.

"You should be resting," Grissom said.

Greg looked up. Gil had finished in the kitchen, and now he was standing beside the couch, looking down at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.

"I am resting." Greg replied. He patted the couch, "Wanna lie down here with me?"

"Can't." Grissom said regretfully, "Have to go back to the lab."

"Sit down." Greg insisted, moving his legs so Gil could sit on the edge of the couch.

Grissom relented. They held each other's gaze for a moment, and then they carefully glanced away; their relationship was just a few months old, and they were still at a stage where their physical attraction was stronger than their common sense.

Grissom tilted his head towards the kitchen.

"I bought you some food." He said, "Stuff for sandwiches, mostly. Oh, and the girl from the Deli sent you a pint of that potato salad you like."

"Thanks."

"I talked to your doctor about the side effects of those painkillers he prescribed," He added, "He gave me a different prescription this time and-" he stopped in mid-phrase. He had glanced at the TV screen and couldn't believe what he was looking at. "Greg? You're watching The Beast again."

"Mmmh?" Greg followed the direction of Gil's gaze and nodded, "Oh. Yeah, I am. Why?"

"You watched it last week," Grissom pointed out, "And you watched it twice the week before last."

"So? I like it. And you should be glad that I do; you gave me the DVD for my birthday."

"I got it just because you were dropping hints that were as subtle as anvils." He glared.

Greg smiled.

"Yeah, well." He shrugged, "It's a good movie."

Grissom looked at Greg as if the young man had grown an extra nose.

"The Beast is a good movie? But the special effects are so cheesy!"

"You think so?" Greg asked vaguely, turning his attention back to the screen again. "They're ok."

"I mean, look at that." Grissom said, "They obviously filmed that scene in a pool. The ocean doesn't flow that way in real life-"

"Gil, it's a movie about a giant squid," he glared, "How authentic can that be? Besides," he muttered almost to himself, "There's more than special effects holding my attention."

Grissom frowned. He glanced from the TV to Greg, studying the young man's reaction to the scenes on the screen. The movie's hero was running up and down, frantically trying to rescue his friend, and Greg was avidly following the scene.

And suddenly, Grissom got a clue. "You have a crush on that guy!" he said, and somehow he made it sound almost like a accusation.

Greg stalled. Or tried to.

"I don't have a crush." He muttered evasively.

Grissom gazed back at the screen.

"I didn't know you had a thing for bearded guys." He said.

Greg shrugged slightly.

"Well. Hum. He looks ok..."

"He's wearing a pink t-shirt." Grissom muttered, but Greg ignored the interruption.

"...He's athletic," Greg continued, "He has a nice nose-"

"A nice nose?"

"Yeah." Greg replied, "Sort of small and perky -"

Grissom studied the face on the screen.

"Well," he scoffed, "You know what they say about small noses."

"What?" asked Greg.

"Well," Grissom said, "They say that the size of the nose is in direct proportion to the size of –ahem- something else, so-"

Greg laughed out loud, but the effort cost him.

"Shit, it hurts!" he winced grabbing his side, "Hey," he glared, "Try not to make me laugh, ok? My ribs are still sore!"

"Sorry." Grissom said sheepishly.

Greg stared at Grissom. It suddenly dawned on him that Gil might not be trying to make him laugh, but simply trying to put down the guy on the screen.

And that could only mean…

"You're jealous?" he asked incredulously. Grissom's sole response was a disdainful glare, but it didn't fool Greg. "Aw, you shouldn't be." The young man said, slightly patting Gil's thigh. "After all... The reason I like this guy is because he looks so much like you."

"Me?" Grissom asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." Greg said. He turned to look at the screen. "Maybe it's the nose." He smirked.

Grissom opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it, and closed it with a snap. He turned his attention to the guy on the screen, and watched as he tried to save his friend from drowning in the middle of what was surely a pool, not the open ocean.

He'd seen enough.

"Well," he said, rising from his seat, "I've got to go."

Greg sat up with an effort. He reached out to touch Grissom, but held back with some difficulty.

"Hey." He said, "Thanks for coming."

"Sure," Grissom said. He hesitated, and then he bent to kiss Greg's mouth. "Try to get some rest." He whispered.

"I will."

Their gazes met. They were so close… Too close. Grissom pulled back abruptly.

"Nick and Sara will bring you breakfast tomorrow." he said, "If you need anything, call Catherine or me, ok?"

"I'm gonna be fine." Greg said.

Grissom picked up the remote and handed it to Greg.

"Enjoy The-guy-in-pink Show." He said ironically.

Greg glanced at the TV screen.

"It's not pink!" He retorted.

"Yes, it is."

A Month Later...

Greg got a bottle of wine from the fridge and opened it with ease. He put it on the table, to let it breathe. It wasn't the most expensive brand, but it was all he could afford. That, and a dinner of steaks and salad, plus Gil's favorite ice cream. Greg wanted to give him a suitable welcome.

Grissom had been away for almost a month. First, he'd had an operation to deal with his otosclerosis, and then he'd taken a vacation.

And in all this time, he'd called only twice and written just a handful of e-mails.

Greg was nervous, to say the least. Anxious. But he was pissed, too. Grissom had never bothered to mention his otosclerosis or his impending surgery, and when he did, it was on the phone. Grissom had explained that the operation had been a success, but he needed some time off. That sounded ominous.

Greg was wondering yet again if their relationship would withstand the long separation, when he noticed the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock.

This is it, Greg thought, as the door opened. And then, there he stood –the love of his life, his boss, his best friend, his-

Greg's jaw dropped. There stood a man in his late forties, with graying hair, piercing blue eyes, a familiar smile, and a bushy beard-

Bushy beard?

And now the man closed the door and took an uncertain step in his direction.

"Hey," Gil said, but Greg didn't respond.

Gil's heart sank.

For two weeks, Grissom had debated whether growing a beard was a wise decision or a blunder that would ruin everything. He'd taken the risk, anyway.

"No good?" he asked now.

And finally, Greg's jaw moved.

"Hey, Bear," he blurted out.

Grissom's smile widened. Bear was one of the words that Greg used as an endearment when they were in bed. It sounded promising.

"Missed you." Grissom said.

"Me, too." Greg said, and he took a couple of steps until he was close enough to touch Gil's face. "Oh, wow," he muttered in awe. "This... this is different."

"It is." Grissom let Greg touched his face, but didn't move. He was waiting for some other sign from Greg –something that told him this had not been a mistake.

"I kinda wondered, you know?" Greg said, "Whether you'd look good with a beard. And it looks good -"

"But?" Grissom asked.

"Oh, your butt looks good, too." Greg replied distractedly. He got even closer, and tentatively lay a kiss on Grissom's furry jaw. And then he lay a couple more, "Feels soft." He said. "Bear." He added. Now the nickname was more appropriate than ever.

"Will this keep you from fantasizing about that guy from 'The Beast'?"

"Ah, forget that guy." Greg whispered, "You're the real thing." He wrapped both arms around Grissom and started walking backwards, taking him along. "Missed you, Bear."

Holding each other, their legs bumping, they walked down the aisle until they found themselves in Greg's bedroom. Greg started unbuttoning Gil's leather jacket while Grissom pulled Greg's shirt out of the way.

And then, just as Gil was leaning forward for a kiss, Greg said, in a mournful tone.

"What? No pink t-shirt?"

There was a stunned silence... followed by Greg's laughter.

"Kidding, Bear! Just kidding!"

***