Title: Fading Evidence
By: Lara Bee
WARNING: mentioning of child abuse. Warning just to be on the safe side.
Additional Note: the way the abuse is described isn't exactly canon, I altered the story just a little.


Gil Grissom looked lovingly at the young man currently sitting at his side. Nick Stokes, both colleague and his lover for four months now, looked good enough to eat. The dark suit he was wearing for this occasion modeled his lean frame just right, and somehow Grissom felt both pride and a twinge of sadness. Pride because of the handsome man at his side, knowing he was his, and sadness because of said attractiveness. Sooner or later someone else would notice, someone better looking than him, someone younger. And that would be the day he would lose Nick. But not today, no way. They had actually managed to get a long weekend off and had flown to Washington. Nick had suggested they'd need some time for themselves, away from crime scenes, bugs and blood spatter, and simply booked the flight. They had wanted to come to Washington anyway to visit the guest play of the Royal Shakespeare Company at the Kennedy Center, 'As You Like It", and Grissom had found he had even looked forward to it. They hadn't much time for dates of any kind, and a part of him wanted to dress up, go out and let himself be seen with this man at his side.
Interesting, how becoming Nick Stokes's lover had changed his life.
They had enjoyed the play very much and were currently enjoying the dinner afterwards. Grissom glanced at his lover again and couldn't suppress the slight smile at the sight, knowing what was hidden underneath the silken material of the suit. One could easily be fooled by looks, and it wasn't hard to confuse Nick Stokes with either a poster boy or a lothario, especially when the man flashed his killer-smile. But far was he from that. Grissom knew better, had gotten to know the younger man, had realized there was a sensitive and caring, even shy young man under that appealing surface.
And he loved all of it.
"Grissom?" the slightly accented voice pulled him out of his thoughts. Nick looked at him from across the table, slightly worried, and he realized he must have looked like daydreaming.
[You okay?] Stokes signed. Of course, he must have thought Grissom had another spell of hearing loss again.
[I'm fine] he reassured his lover, [I was just thinking]
"About what?" Nick switched to talking again.
"You."
"Me?"
"Yes."
Gil found himself at the focus of a deep frown, his lover studying him closely.
"What exactly about me?"
Jesus, but he knew him too well.
"Not what you think, Nicky. I'm not at it again."
Lie, plain and simple. In the past Grissom had displayed a lot of uncertainty when it came to his lover, and Nick had done his best to reassure him that he didn't intend to switch him for the next best good-looking face. Though Grissom believed Nick didn't intend to, he didn't expect the man to stay at his side forever. He was fifteen years older and not getting any younger.
"Hm. Then what?"
"The truth?"
"And nothing but. So, what gives?"
Grissom tilted his head, smiling.
"I was contemplating the many ways I'd like to ravish that beautiful body of yours when we get back to the room." he said conversationally. It earned him a strangled coughing sound as Nick tried his best to not spew his wine over the table.
Grissom smiled.
 

God, but the man could still surprise him - just when you thought you knew someone. Nick coughed and tried to swallow at the same time - both the red wine and the fact Gil Grissom had just come on to him. Not that Gil had never voiced his wishes, far from it, but never that plain, never that directly and surely never in public.
Hell, but it was a major turn on.
"Whatcha waitin' for, man? Night's still young." Jesus, was that his voice, sounding all strangled and hoarse? Gil Grissom might be older than him, but damn, if the man couldn't get under his skin with just a few words. Not to speak of into his pants. And damn if the man wasn't one hell of a lover.
[Let's go, love, or I'm going to embarrass myself here] Nick signed.
[I'll take it as a compliment]
[You do that, as long as you act on it later!]
Grissom laughed, but Nick saw the wicked little sparkle in these blue eyes as he rose and left some bills on the table.
He liked it.

*

The way back to the hotel and up to their room seemed to last an eternity but finally they made it. Entering the bedroom Nick was stunned to find his lover pinning him against the wall, claiming his lips with a fervor he hadn't displayed before in a kiss that threatened to turn into a tonsillectomy, hands all over his body and underneath his clothes. Nick moaned into the kiss, responding in kind. Normally Grissom was the rather gentle kind of lover, more teasing than taking, but hey, who was he to complain? He wanted Gil, and he didn't mind a little roughness when things got hot, no sir. And things were definitely hot in here now. A minute later he was pushed around, landing on the bed with an armful of horny CSI supervisor, who left no doubt about his further course of action for the night, making quick work of both their clothes. Nick moaned and panted, arching in every touch, as Grissom's hands roamed over his body wantonly, soon accompanied by his mouth.
"You were serious about the ravishing part, huh?" Nick managed to utter, before his lips were claimed all over again.
"I'm always serious, Nicky," Grissom breathed. "Turn over."
Nick complied, though a little surprised. This position wasn't too customary in their relationship, though he liked it as well. Grissom's hands stroked over his back, slipping between his spread legs, slick and wet, teasing, entering. Nick's grip on the sheets tightened when he felt the preparation, as tender as he was used to, yet different. Gil hit the spot and the well known fiery sensation bolted up his nerve endings, making him buck into the touch.
"god ... Gris ... "
"Almost there, Nicky, just a little patience. Don't want to hurt you, right?"
Nick froze.
Suddenly there was no Gil Grissom anymore ...
"Get the hell away from me, you fucking bastard! Don't you ever touch me again!!"
 

With a punch and a swift motion he was at the far end of the bed, panting and trembling. Grissom sat frozen, shocked to the core, mind whirling about what he had done, how he could have possibly hurt his lover, what was going on, how could he make it right ...
"Nick?" he asked carefully, not daring to move, though all he wanted was to take the distressed man into his arms, soothe the fear? he saw reflected in those beloved chocolate eyes. Fear, afraid. Afraid of him? Good god ...
"Grissom?" Nick's voice sounded small, but he seemed to be aware of him.
"Did I freak out? I freaked out, right?"
Grissom nodded, not really understanding what had happened here, but obviously Nick was accustomed to it.
"Damn. Didn't do that in years. Damn flashbacks."
Flashbacks?
"Flashbacks?"
"Yeah, flashbacks. I'm sorry, Gris, " Nick ran a hand through his hair, looking utterly frustrated. "Used to happen in the past, but I thought I was over it. It's just a split second, but it can be a real mood killer, eh?" he grinned. It didn't exactly reach his eyes.
Grissom frowned.
"Nick, this isn't funny, so stop that. Flashbacks of what?"
He saw Nick hesitate, take in a deep breath.
"Of the man who molested me when I was nine."
A bucket of ice water spilled over him couldn't have been a bigger shock.
"Oh Nick ... "
"Don't look at me that way, Gris, please. I can stand everything, but not that look. It happened over twenty years ago, I've had my share of shrinks, and I dealt. I can have sex, I can enjoy sex, hell, you know I can. And I can love. I love you, Gil, and I won't allow that bastard to reign my life, not to speak of my love life."
"The flashbacks?"
"As I said, didn't have one in years. Really, it's okay."
"May I ... " Grissom hesitated, not really knowing what to do. He wanted to take Nick in his arms, but what if ...?
"Of course. Gil. I'm not fragile, touch me. I want you to touch me, every way you like."
Nick met him halfway, cupping his face between his hands and brushing his lips over his.
"Don't allow him to be with us, too, will you? Please?"
"Will you tell me?"
"You really want to know?"
Grissom wrapped his arms around the lithe, slightly trembling figure of his lover, pulling the blanket over their bodies.
"Honestly, I'm not sure. Can you ...?"
"Yes, I can talk about it. I don't like it, but I can. I had a last minute babysitter once, and when my parents were out she invited her boyfriend along ... "
And Gil listened to the story, carefully reining in his emotions at what he heard.
 Nick ran a soothing hand over his chest as he spoke, sensing his increasing anger boiling low beneath the surface. There were only so many things that could make Gil Grissom lose his composure, and violence against children was one of them.
 

Gil felt a knot forming in his stomach, listening to Nick's story. His lover, molested as a nine-year-old! And something had triggered a memory, a flashback. Something he had done?
"What triggered it?" he asked levelly, trying his best not to give his emotional turmoil away. His lover's reaction told him he failed miserably. Nick put his hand flat on his chest, drawing soothing circles all over again.
"I think it was what you said, the words and your voice." Nick answered after a second of thinking. "As I said, hadn't had one in years, and usually they were triggered by a scent, or a sound."
"I'm sorry, Nick."
Stokes shifted a bit, sincere brown eyes locking into his.
"Don't be. You didn't do anything. It happened over twenty years ago, and I dealt with it."
"Hm, right. I saw your 'dealing with it.'"
Gil regretted the words the very next second when Nick propped himself up on one elbow.
"Damn, Grissom! This has nothing to do with you OR us. I love you, I want you, I love to feel you and I want you to touch me. Don't look at me like this, I can't stand that. Do you have the slightest idea what it does to me to see that look?" Nick looked at him, and there was something like a plea in those dark brown eyes.
"I'm ... "
"Don't tell me you're sorry. I don't want your 'sorry´, I want you."
"Nicky ... "
"God, Grissom," Nick sighed, looking tired all of a sudden. "I know how you feel about sexual assault on children. But if you look at me like this, if you tell me you're sorry, it ... it doesn't make it any better, on the contrary."
Gil closed his eyes for a brief second, trying to get rid of the picture of a nine-year-old Nicholas Stokes, afraid and alone, at the hands of ... the mere thought made him want to throw up. His Nick ...
"I don't want you to feel like that, Nick." Was it his voice, sounding so small?
"I know. Grissom?"
"Yes, Nick?"
"You wouldn't have known if I hadn't told you."
"No."
Grissom swallowed. No, he wouldn't have. He would have treated his lover like he had before and not ...
 "What can I do?" he almost whispered.
Despite his training he felt helpless, as if he just had been thrown into a deep dark hole. There were only three things that really made him mad, and violence against children was one of them. Even on the job he had lost it once, shoving everything from Greg Sander's desk and ordering the man to focus on one DNA-analysis alone. He had known back then he had shocked his colleagues, had noticed the stunned silence and the way some of them had avoided his eyes.
"Don't look at me like this, Gil. " Nick replied gently. "I'm not a kid anymore, nor am I a case. And I am not a victim now. Don't make me one, please."
"Nick, I don't know ... "
"I do." Nick whispered, sneaking closer into his lover's embrace. Grissom closed his arms around the slender form of his younger lover, revelling in the way the hard body was pressed into his, or the scent of Nick's hair reached his nostrils. He could bury himself into that body, lose himself into that scent, each and every time this man was close. Hell, right now it was all he wanted to, held Nick and be held and forget about all the ugliness of the outside world.
"I do," Nick repeated softly, his head lying on Grissom's chest right now. "Just hold me, okay? Just be with me, love me. That's all I ask. Can you do that?"
Grissom inhaled slowly, letting his hands wander over Nick's back, enjoying the feeling of the younger man snuggling closer, the sensation of skin against skin when Nick gently pushed a knee between his thighs.
"Yes," he murmured softly, placing a kiss on his lover's head and gasping when Nick ran a thumb over his nipples. After that sort of revelation he wouldn't want to - or would he?
"Then do so, Gris, don't feel bad about it, you didn't hurt me, nor will you ever hurt me. I'm a grown man, you know, and I know how to say no. But now," a pair of lips ran over his throat, "I say," fingers gliding over his inner thigh and upwards, "yes."
"God ... Nick ... "
"... yes ... "
Soft hands were ghosting over his body, fingertips only slightly brushing the hardening nipples, and elsewhere. Damn, Nick knew well enough what this was doing to him every time. Grissom couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his throat, and he heard an answering sound as his lover slowly parted his thighs with his knee.
"Nick ... "
"hm?"
"Do you think this is a good idea ...?"
"Why not?"
"After what I've just... "
"Gris, stop that. You've done nothing - but that can be arranged, don't you think?"
With a last teasing suckle on his neck Nick was out of bed, stepping over to his bag and started rummaging around.
"Nick?" Gil asked perplexed, when Nick started to grin, indicating he had found what he was looking for.
Seconds later soft low music was filling the room, and Nick even lit some candles. Grissom found his eyes were glued to his lover's actions, the soft illumination of the candles producing an interesting play of light and shadows on Nick's body. Gil couldn't help the slight gasp at the sight of his lover - gorgeous, well-built with just the right amount of muscle at all the right places - and then he looked into Nick's eyes. Dark brown, reflection of little flames dancing in them, they seemed to burn with an inner light themselves, looking almost black with desire and need. Never had he seen Nick Stokes so open, so naked and vulnerable. And this man loved him? Wanted him?
"Gil?" he had almost missed the softly uttered word.
Nick approached him again, sitting by his side and grabbing the sheets, pulling them off his body slowly. By the time his lover was finished, Grissom found himself breathing and being hard. There had been a reason for his earlier pass on his lover after all. Nick's eyes were wandering over his body, closely followed by his fingertips, ghosting over his neck and chest, finding their way down south and leaving behind fiery trails, making Gil shiver.
"Did you plan this?" he sighed and twitched, when Nick found an exceptionally sensitive spot. Stokes smiled.
"In a way. We didn't have time until now for something special. But your way had something, too. Care to try that another time soon?"
"I don't know." Grissom reached up almost impatiently, pulling his lover close into a kiss that left them both breathless, deepening their hunger for each other and shutting the outside world.
When he felt Nick's hand travelling down his body he groaned into the kiss, rolling his lover over.
"You want it, Nicky? You really do?"
"hell, yes! I ain't fragile. I want to feel you, all of you, inside me, all over me. Want to hear you moan and scream ... Love me, Gris."
"Your moan is my command ... "

" ... gawd ... Grissom!... "

*

Grissom held the now relaxed body of his younger lover in his arms,  listened to the even breathing as Nick slept the sleep of the well and truly, uhm, loved. Sleep didn't come easily to himself, though. Gil Grissom was processing. He'd always been proud that he didn't judge people, didn't jump to conclusions, and what had he done first time he really shouldn't have? Judged. Assumed. Jumped to conclusions.
Made Nick Stokes a victim.
His lover might be a lot of things. He was emotional and caring - some people would call him a wimp. He was gentle and kind - some people would judge him weak. He was gorgeous and well built, had this killer smile when he wanted to - and didn't even know what effect that had on others. Some people would just take a short look and categorize him as a lothario or womaniser.
Nick Stokes wasn't anything of the above. What some people might view as weakness truly was his strength. In his heart of hearts Nick Stokes was a shy, tender young man who, god knows how, had managed to  retain himself some dreams and hopes, despite all the cruelty he had witnessed, both in his private life and his line of work. He even was able to tell an old dog like him some new tricks, had taught him this and that about love and being loved.
And he absolutely wasn't a victim.
Gil would never allow people to judge his lover without knowing him.
And well, he did know Nick, as well was possible.
Then who was he to do so?
The body in his arms shifted, Nick murmuring something in his sleep as if he was sensing his lover's distress, and Gil ran a soothing hand over the younger man's back, sending him back into a deeper sleep.
'I'm your partner, lover, friend, Nick. Its not up to me to judge, and I'm sorry I did', he thought. 'I don't know why you love me of all people, but you are my partner, lover and friend. You are my guiding light in the darkness, my ears when I can't hear, my confidence when I stumble. Who am I to let you down?'
"I love you, Nick, I'll be here, whatever may come" he vowed silently, placing a kiss on his love's forehead as sleep finally claimed him. This wasn't far from over, that he knew. There were many talks and misunderstandings and even crisis waiting for them in their future - but they had enough time to work that out, if they just wanted to.
And for what seemed to him like the very first time, Gil Grissom thought it worth while.
 

(Not really) fini.
Something like this never is.