Title: Drinking Buddies
By: it-glitters
Fandom, Pairing: CSI: Vegas: Greg/Warrick
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Even Santa couldn't cure my debt, which I wouldn't have if I owned anything...
Beta: Beta'd by geekwriter.
Spoilers: Set between Seasons 6 and 7.

***

PART ONE
It had started out innocently enough - a little strangely perhaps. It wasn't as if Warrick had ever invited him out to drinks - that was an honor generally reserved for the old CSI team members - Greg just hadn't quite integrated, at least not with Warrick. There had been a moment after he had found the little boy in the box, but that had been with Nick there as well.

Come to think about it, they had never gone out together - not alone.

And Greg didn't know that he was going to be so excited that Warrick had invited him. It wasn't as if he had held some sort of long crush or anything - but there was that admiration, the admiration he held for a man that had gone through so much to be the CSI that he was now.

And they would be going out for a drink, alone, presumably to talk about the dissolution of Warrick's marriage. It would be an odd subject, as those conversations were generally reserved for Nick - and it was weird that it wasn't Warrick and Nick going out together. Greg assumed that Nick must have been busy or something. He was just a secondary character in the show - he was still a wannabe in the eyes of many.

As he changed his shirt and put on his jacket, Greg became strangely nervous about the whole situation. The whole thing was just not... normal. Not by any sense of the word - he and Warrick had always extended each other a professional courtesy, and once or twice a bit more - but nothing that would explain the impromptu invite.

There was a part of him, deep down, that had always just been attracted to Warrick - there was something there - a spark, a darkness. He knew that Warrick was straight, and there was nothing that he could do about it - but it was like Warrick and Catherine - no one could hurt him for just checking out the goods.

He had already memorized the directions to the bar - but he still kept checking his pocket to make sure that the print-out was in there; as if for some reason he might go temporarily insane and forget how to take 2 rights followed by a left.

Greg hit every stop light - and hoped that Warrick wouldn't give up on their meeting - even though when Greg got there he was only 3 minutes and 32 seconds late - by his watch, at least.

"Sorry I'm late," Greg half panted as he sat down in the booth. Warrick's eyes were riveted to the television screen. There was already a beer in his hand.

"What?" he asked after a moment, finally acknowledging Greg's present.

"I said I was sorry for being late."

"Didn't even notice," he glanced down at his watch. "Anything within 5 minutes is safe."

"Oh," Greg let out a soft sigh of relief.

The waitress, noticing the new customer in the sparsely populated bar, came directly to their table and offered Greg a drink. He opted for what Warrick was having - his brain was not capable of answering questions at the moment.

It was if the connection between his brain and his mouth had suddenly failed - and that was something that never happened, and it was something that just made him even more uncomfortable. He desperately prayed that Warrick had actually called him out to talk about anything - because Greg knew for a fact that he was not going to be starting any conversations soon.

"So, I guess you know that Tina left."

"Yes." Greg turned his focus on to his beer, trying to see if he could somehow see through the foam. He realized he could not, but it was easier to stare at the foam than it was to look at Warrick.

"I guess I just didn't want to go back to my place. Everything's all fucked up there - and then the whole thing at work - with Brass and the whole department the way it is. I mean, I guess I just didn't want to be alone."

Internally Greg wondered where Nick was in this equation, but he kept quiet as he sipped at his beer.

"Nick's got this new girlfriend that he's always out with. Catherine... well I can't talk to her because of the thing - and then Griss and Sara," Warrick paused and let out an impassioned and shaking sigh. "I just don't get people sometimes."

Greg nodded his agreement and tried not to stare as Warrick put his head into his hands.

"This is not where I thought my life would be right now. You know? I mean, I'm looking toward 40 here - and I'm going to be divorced... and in all honesty, I think that we all know that I shouldn't have married her." He was staring into Greg's eyes now and Greg knew that he couldn't stop looking for fear that that would somehow give him away.

"You know, Greg, you never really talk about your love life anymore. Why don't we talk about that? Is there someone?"

Greg shook his head fervently and looked back into his beer. He could feel the heat rising into his chest and he just couldn't suppress that tell-tale smirk that always played on the sides of his lips when he was overly confident, or embarrassed - it was a natural reaction to the two totally different situations.

This time, it was embarrassment causing him to turn red and look down - trying to hide the little smile.

"Who is it, Sanders?" Warrick asked playfully. "Come on, there's someone. You - for all your talk, have a lot of secrets, buddy."

"Nothing... it's nothing." He kept his eyes flat on the table, wishing that the cheap vinyl of the booth seats would come to life and suffocate him.

"We're sharing here. I tell you I got my heart ripped out by going into a marriage too soon, and that everyone I used to count on has gone a tiny bit nuts - and I'm here with you, of all people. I'm opening up to you - two guys, sharing some beers - I'm just asking for a little something."

"Well... I mean, I don't know."

"Come on; stop pussy footing around like this! You're not a seventh grade girl, for Christ's sakes!"

The vinyl did not come to life and choke the life out of him, and he was forced to finally answer the question. He knew he should have just lied, but he couldn't - it just wasn't going to work for him. He had to tell Warrick the truth - or at least some version of the truth.

"Well, she... is a he, for starters." He had expected Warrick to drop his beer - anything - some sort of reaction - but there was little.

"So you swing both ways? Or gay and does women as a cover?"

Warrick's response was so casual; it took Greg entirely off guard. "What?"

"What's your sexual preference - as a general rule of thumb, Greg?"

"Um... bi - well, mostly gay, but sometimes..."

"The chick's just too hot to stop," Warrick said with a knowing smile before he sipped his beer.

"Yes."

Warrick drained the rest of the beer. "It's smoky in here. You wanna go?"

Greg nodded, stupefied still by what had just happened. He followed Warrick into the parking lot - he was following blindly, not even bothering to go towards his own car. That was when Warrick pushed him into the alley and against the wall.

That was when Warrick kissed him, body pressed flush against his own - the taste of beer and second hand smoke lingering on. The feel of Warrick's chest against his own - the beating of hearts. They were both surprised by the boldness and ferocity of the kiss, but when they broke, they said nothing. They just stared at each other.


PART TWO
"What the hell was that?" Greg asked breathlessly.

"I guess..." Warrick stammered, momentarily embarrassed. "I thought when you said something about liking a he - and the way you were acting - I guess I hoped you were talking about me."

"I didn't even know you..."

"Sometimes - sometimes it's just something..."

"Right."

"Listen, I think we might need to talk about this a little."

"I don't want you to do this because you're drunk."

"Who the hell gets drunk from one beer?"

"You could have been drinking earlier."

"Gambling problem, Greg - not alcohol." Warrick said solemnly as he watched for Greg's reaction.

"Right," Greg said meekly as he stared at his shoes, embarrassed about bring up the touchy subject right after such an impassioned kiss.

Warrick placed a warm, strong hand on Greg's shoulder. It made Greg think about things that were too dangerous at the moment, he needed to try and keep his head in the game. "It's okay, Greg. I know my problem, and I'm dealing with it."

"Okay," Greg managed to squeak out - even though his throat was parched and his head was beginning to swim. It was that mix - that mix in his mind that he had always felt in regard to Warrick. There was the part of him that was scared to say anything because of the sexual desire - and then the part that was scared to say anything because Warrick had so much more experience than him on the job.

"Greg," Warrick whispered, and he was dangerously close to Greg's mouth again. "Maybe you should come over." Greg was sure that Warrick wasn't wearing a gun, so it was something entirely else that was poking his hip.

Greg licked his lips, and accidentally touched the tip of his tongue to Warrick's as he did so. That was when Warrick sucked the offending tongue into his mouth and pushed Greg further against the wall.

It was an instant, erotic reaction, and all together wrong. But neither of them cared at the moment. Warrick had moved down to suck on the sweet flesh of Greg's neck as his hands gripped Greg's ass. The two of them were only hidden by the shadows of their surroundings. Warrick's hand moved up slightly, pushing up the back of Greg's shirt and resting his hand on the small of the heated back.

Neither of them had planned on moving that fast, but after that first kiss - that first sensation of lips meeting lips - there was no longer room for plans. The only things that remained were hormones and lust and two bodies that needed release. Warrick ground his hips against Greg's, finding that Greg was in the same state of intoxicating arousal, and moved faster and harder.

Kissing was forgotten and replaced by grinding and groping in the dirty alley behind the small bar. Warrick grunted as Greg's legs gave out and Greg placed his entire body weight into Warrick's arms.

Greg's eyes were glazed over by the time Warrick leaned him against the wall and opened his pants. Warrick dropped to his knees with ease and leaned in to take Greg's cock into his mouth, causing Greg to jump slightly in surprise.

"You've never gotten head?" Warrick looked up, trying to mask his amusement.

Greg's head was spinning a mile a minute. "I have - I mean - yes... have had it... I just - didn't thing you would..." Greg stopped himself before he could possibly sound any dumber.

"Well I am. So, hold still." He placed his hands on either side of Greg's hips and started again. This time, Greg was prepared for the touch of Warrick's tongue against his aching cock.

Greg shuddered as Warrick continued to suck on the head of his cock - he had never expected Warrick to go down on him, even in his greatest fantasies. Greg had always expected that he would be the one dropping to his knees.

Warrick was a little sloppy with the delivery, but it got the job done, and Greg was shuddering through his release and grasping at Warrick's hair.

"Stop it, man," Warrick growled, removing Greg's hands from his head. "That hurts." He got up from the ground and dusted off his knees while watching Greg deal with the aftershocks. "Pull your pants together, man."

Greg still couldn't make the correct neurons fire to move his hands to zip his fly.

"Jesus, fine - I'll do it," Warrick said as he shoved Greg's dick back in his pants and then zipped up the fly. "You good?"

"I think... maybe... did you?"

"Not yet - we need to talk. Are you alright to drive?"

"Yes."

"Good."

A quick kiss revealed the taste of his semen remaining in Warrick's mouth, but Greg didn't mind.

....

"Beer?" Warrick asked as they settled into the kitchen. Greg wondered about what had happened to Warrick's hard-on, but decided on not bring up the subject and accepting it for what it was. He nodded and took the beer.

"So, Tina's moved her stuff out?"

"Yeah, I told her at the casino to get her stuff out." Warrick paused and laughed. "Turned out she was planning a surprise for me. I accused her of cheating."

"Damn." Greg wasn't exactly sure why they were talking about the ex-wife when there was still the more pressing issue of the kiss followed by a blow-job to discuss, but he just continued to nod.

"Well, she and I were never meant to be." Warrick took a swig of his beer. "I think that everyone saw that but me - I think I was so fucked up about what happened to Nick, I might have gone a little out there."

"Maybe."

"So when was your last big thing?"

"Huh?" It was a snap reaction, and he felt dumb each time he gave Warrick some monosyllabic response.

"You and a person. When was the last time it happened, man?"

"Oh - well there hasn't been much. Not serious, at least. Every time I get something started, the hours are bad, or we don't see each other for days - and either they or I lose interest."

"The life of a CSI."

"It's lonely, isn't it?"

"It can be."

"Any way to avoid it?"

Warrick took another swig of his beer and thought. "Nope."

"Oh."

"We gonna do this?" The question was direct and nearly without emotion. Warrick had already taken off his shirt and abandoned his beer on the way to what Greg could only assume was the bedroom.


PART THREE
It was almost as if Greg didn't know how he had gotten there. Yes, driving to the bar - leaving the bar - what had happened after that - those things were finally settling down into his mind. The blurriest part of his memory was the simple walk down the hall from the living room to the bedroom.

At least at the bar there had been no expectations - it had all been a surprise that he had been able to roll with. With the walk to the bedroom, there was no element of surprise; Greg knew exactly what was going to happen. He knew that once he stepped into the bedroom, there would be absolutely no going back. A blow job could be passed off as fooling around - as an accident almost. Going into the bedroom - that was intentional, that was planned - that was sex. There was a line that was about to be crossed, and there was no going back.

Greg crossed that line. He followed Warrick straight into the bedroom. It was a bit more utilitarian than Greg had expected. He expected more artwork - more color. But the room was obviously the same color that Warrick had originally bought it in. The bed was just a box spring and a mattress. It was made, but there was nothing special about. There was a nice lamp on a nightstand... everything in the room was nice - it was just functional.

"Did Tina take everything?" Greg asked, more to find out where Warrick had disappeared to.

"More or less," Warrick called out from a closed room that Greg assumed was the bathroom.

Greg tried to decide whether or not he should just strip - or if he should wait and let Warrick take his clothes off. He didn't know what the whole thing was, if it was a seduction or if he was just going to get fucked and that would be all. He toed off his shoes, assuming that at least that was safe. In the end, he just stood in the middle of the room and waited.

Warrick came out the bathroom clad only in his boxer briefs and looked at Greg. "You just gonna stand there all night?" He cocked his eyebrow and motioned to the bed. Greg tried to say something, but choked on the words and climbed onto the bed.

Warrick stood at the end of the bed and pulled down his underwear. He picked them up from the floor and threw them in the general direction of the laundry hamper. He stared at Greg.

"This a lot harder to do when you insist on remaining dressed." Warrick didn't move to help; he obviously just wanted Greg to take his clothes off.

Greg didn't know why his hands were shaking - it wasn't like he was a virgin - but his hands were still shaking. They were shaking so bad that he couldn't undo the buttons on his jeans. He fumbled for a minute and then looked up at Warrick, who was laughing at him.

"Come on." Warrick smiled as he climbed onto the bed and moved Greg's hands away from the button. "I'll do it."

Warrick undid the button as Greg laid back. Greg propped himself up on his elbows so he could watch as Warrick pulled down the zipper and started to work the pants down his legs. "Lift your damn hips, Greg."

Greg blushed, stared up at the ceiling, and lifted his hips. He realized that Warrick was taking his boxers off with the jeans, and the air was cool against his skin. He was already hard again. Warrick threw the jeans and boxers to the end of the bed and then pulled off Greg's socks.

"Take off your shirt," Warrick told Greg as he kneeled and sat back. Greg hesitated and then sat up, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. His heartbeat increased as he dropped his shirt next to the bed and leaned back against the pillows - preparing himself for whatever Warrick wanted.

Warrick crawled between his legs and spread them as far as they could comfortably go. He kissed Greg's neck as he reached into the top drawer of the nightstand and fumbled around without looking up for the lube. He retrieved it and sat back up. He seemed to think for a moment before getting up and walking out of the room, in search of something.

Greg waited nervously without saying anything. He knew that he was not in control of the situation, and for the moment, he was all right with that. He was what Warrick wanted at that moment, and that was all that mattered.

Warrick came back into the room with a pair of latex gloves that he had retrieved from his evidence kit. He snapped on the left one, and then the right, before climbing back onto the bed and picking up the discarded lube. He clicked open the cap and poured it onto his right index finger before motioning for Greg to turn around.

Greg climbed up on all fours and stared at the wall in front of him as Warrick inserted the first finger and quickly coated Greg's insides. He pulled the finger out, added more lube and then forced two fingers into Greg's ass, adding more lubrication and stretching him open for penetration.

When the two fingers were removed, Greg could hear the snap as Warrick removed the gloves, indicating that he was finished with his hasty preparation. The crinkle of the foil package from the condom told Greg what was going to happen next.

Warrick applied more lube to the pre-lubricated condom and then kneeled behind Greg - moving Greg's hips to the appropriate position before attempting to enter Greg slowly. It didn't work - Greg was too tight and Warrick too large. A gentle slap to his side reminded Greg to breathe out.

When he released the long breath, Warrick tried to push in again - this time with more success. He managed to force the head of his cock through the tight barrier muscles. Greg raised a hand to the wall to help him push back and allow Warrick to slide all the way in. Warrick stayed motionless as Greg dropped his arm and rested his chest on the pillow that he was clutching.

Warrick gripped the sides of Greg's hips and began to pull back before thrusting forward again. He made no effort to find Greg's prostate or to stimulate his partner in any way other than the brutal back and forth out of his ass.

Greg rested his head against the pillow and finally understood what was happening. He was getting fucked - in more ways than one.


PART FOUR
Greg didn't come, and Warrick didn't even notice. When he was finished, he had just pulled out and rolled over, taking the condom off and throwing it in the small trash can next to the bed that Greg hadn't even realized was there. Within moments, he was snoring.

Greg rolled carefully out of the bed and tried to find each piece of discarded clothing. Warrick had actually been quite neat about all of it. Socks, underwear, and jeans were all in one pile. His shirt was next to Warrick's bed where he had dropped it, and his shoes remained in the center of the room. Greg dressed quietly and left no trace that he had been there. He made his way back through the living room and to the front door.

Making his way to the car, he thought about how much the excess lube in his ass itched as it caused his underwear to tangle, and that he couldn't wait to get home and shower. He wanted the whole night erased - the bar, the alley, the bed - he wanted it all gone. All he wanted to do was to go back into a world where Warrick had never made an advance on him - where they were just friends and nothing more.

Greg hated that he had been a rebound fuck. He should have seen it coming from the get go. The way Warrick had talked about Greg being the only one left, the way he had talked about his wife, they had all been signs that Greg had chosen to ignore. He wanted to be wanted. And he had gotten that - but he had wanted to be wanted because he was him - not because he was an easy fuck. But he was an easy fuck.

He drove home slowly, carefully - not wanting to cause any trouble, not wanting anyone to see the 'used' tattoo that he was sure had made it to his forehead. Everyone would be able to tell.

He parked at his complex and tried not to draw attention to himself as he tried to remove the boxers that had gotten lodged in his ass and then stuck there with lube. His ass was entirely chaffed by the time he managed to his apartment.

Walking inside, Greg threw his wallet and keys onto the counter and looked at his answering machine. There were no messages - and no one had called on his cell either. It was going to be one of those lonely nights.

He stripped down and left his clothing in a pile on the floor, more or less on top of the pile that he had been creating for the last week. He turned the shower on hotter than normal and tried to scrub away the evidence.

....

Greg secured the buds of his iPod into his ears, turned up the music, and then put on his best 'fuck off' face. He just wanted to get into work and do his job. He didn't want to make anything out of it. That was, until Warrick cornered him in the locker room.

"Greg."

"Fuck off," Greg said coolly; he wanted to brush Warrick off as much as Warrick had brushed him off.

"We need to talk."

"What part of 'fuck off' are you have trouble understanding?" Greg asked as he slammed the door to his locker shut.

"I think I need to explain what happened."

"Nope, you don't. We need to forget about this and just move on."

"You're not even going to give me a chance?" Warrick was now standing directly next to Greg, hovering in his personal space, and blocking the exit.

"Why should I? You got what you wanted from me."

"Listen - I was looking... damn, don't make me say this to you in here."

"What do you want?"

"Look - I just need to talk to you. Alone, and not at work. Let me explain what was going on in my head last night."

Greg sighed. He would agree, but there was no way that he was going to end up in the same situation as the previous night. "Fine. Where do you want to meet?"

"The bar?"

"Fuck the bar."

Warrick took a step back. "Okay... somewhere more neutral then. How about pancakes?"

"Whatever," Greg sighed resignedly.

"My treat..." Warrick called as Greg stormed out of the locker room.

....

Greg hated the fact that he was there before Warrick. He had planned on storming in fashionably late, but it seemed that Warrick was going to be the one doing that. He ordered a coffee from the waitress and stirred at it idly. His stomach was too much in knots to get anything down. He would settle for just enjoying the smell.

"Hey, Greg," Warrick said as he sat down. Greg hadn't even noticed him come in.

"Hey!" Greg nearly knocked over his coffee.

"Have you ordered?"

"No."

"Great." Warrick picked up the menu and fidgeted in his seat.

"Can we just do this thing? I'm not really hungry."

"Do what, Greg?"

"You say, 'let's go back to my place,' and I tell you to fuck off."

"Greg... I need to explain..."

"I really don't want to hear it."

"I think you need to know where I was coming from on this one."

"You wanted sex - you got it." People were starting to turn their heads at the commotion.

"Greg, keep your voice down. Please, I just wanted to tell you something..."

Greg finally sipped at his coffee - it was bitter and cold, but he drank it anyway.

"Greg... last night... I made a mistake all right?" Warrick shot the waitress a 'stay away' look.

"Can I just tell you? That makes me feel so much better about this whole thing. I don't want to sound like a woman..."

"But I shouldn't have used you like that," Warrick finished softly.

Greg finally looked up. "Yeah."

"I fucked up last night, didn't I?"

"Understatement of the year."

"We're still friends, right?"

"You know, sometimes, I wondered if we ever were."

"Of course we were - and are," Warrick said a little too fervently - people were starting to look at them again. He leaned across the table. "I feel like we're that awkward couple, breaking up in a public place so that no one can go nuts, but then someone does anyway."

"We were never together, so you can't really break up with me."

"True," Warrick said as he stared down at his coffee. "But... under different circumstances... it might have been something."

"Might have, but isn't."

"We cool?"

"Maybe someday," Greg said as he got up and left the restaurant.

***