Title: Lets Take It From There
By: nigaishin
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: NickxHodgesxGreg
Betas: wonderful blackangel_life and redleaf0, as usual ^^
Disclaimers: not mine. Pity. *watching them sigh in relief*

White.
The ceiling is white, darkened by the sunset dim light.

The blinds draw stripes across it, and Dave is almost tempted to count them, but he just can't make his mind focus.

He lays on his back, staring up at the ceiling, motionless.

His mind is blank, and yet his head feels heavy.

He can't think.

Greg's light breathing is almost hypnotic.

He closes his eyes.



He slumps onto Nick, boneless, head rolling back in the crook of his neck.

The Texan lets out a light laugh, quietly cradling him, and Dave's eyes are closed, he feels drained, but somehow he knows Nicky is peering down at Greg from over his shoulder.



The noise of screeching tyres, he blinks.

The car drives by, the pattern on the ceiling changes for a brief moment to dark grey.



Greg's head rests against Dave's abdomen, he can feel his breathing cool on his damp, sweaty skin, his eyelashes flutter. He murmurs something, chuckles, his hand pets Dave's hipbone, until it meets Nick's and gently laces their fingers together.

Their entwined hands feel heavy on his thigh.



A dog barks outside, a woman yells sharply at it, and it's quiet again.

The weight of everything they have, and how he cannot fit in it, he still feels it on his skin.

He closes his eyes, again.

Darkness, and heat.



Nick nips the back of his neck cruelly, painfully, and Dave moans in response.

He frowns deeper, trying to sort his thoughts, but Nick stopped moving, he came, lodged deep inside him, and Greg's mouth is hot and wet around him, and his fingers are teasing the underside of his cock, and back past his balls, near his opening, pressing, and Dave can suddenly feel droplets of sweat rolling down his back and temples, mix to tears of exertion, slow, everything seems so slow, pressure increasing inside of him, making him clench his eyes closed tighter.

He doesn't make a sound.


A shout.



His eyes shoot open, startled.

He imagined it, it's in his head, the memory takes a blush to his face, his sight blurs.

Shame, guilt, pleasure.

He presses his lips together.

The memory is suffocating.



Greg drops to his knees.

He bats their hands away impatiently and bends down to take David's cock half-way in his mouth.

Nick is still moving into him.

Dave whimpers when he grabs his hands and guides them to rest on Greg's head, growling words in his ear.

Greg pumps his own cock, still wet with David's saliva, rocking his hips a bit, and obliges when the tech presses his fingers on his scalp.



Anger.

That pressure behind his eyes is anger, blinding him.

He bites the corner of his lips harshly.

He shivers once, and wills his body to calm down.



Greg straightens up, eyes locked with Dave's, smiling.

He just stands there, not moving, mere inches away from the two of them, watching his lover fuck his friend, eyes hazed with lust.

He says nothing, but Dave bends down to kiss his navel, mimicking Nick's thrusts with his tongue before mouthing his way down his belly.

Greg groans loudly, his head tilts upwards, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Nick's hand on the small of his back feels hot and heavy to Dave.



He sits up, carefully, silently.

He doesn't want to wake Greg.

He can still feel their hands on his skin.

It's so real, he twists his arm around to touch his back, but only meets thin air.



David whines, irritated, and Nick's hands grab his hips firmly, driving him backwards on his cock.

It's a too fast, pain flares up his spine.

He leans back into Nick, panting, starting up a bit.

He's probably used to Greg, Dave reckons, they're lovers.

He banishes that thought.

"Sorry, sorry," the words are gasped softly over his shoulder, Nick's body trembling with the effort to keep still.

His hands try to soothe some of the tension out of David, apologizing, but soon turn more forceful, pressing him down again, cupping his crotch.

Dave holds his breath, lost in the heat, hands scrambling for support and hips moving up, only to be impaled back by Nick's demanding grip.

Greg grabs his chin and turns his head to make Dave face him.

His eyes blink open, it's hard to keep them that way, he's overwhelmed, a groan raises from his throat.

He kisses him, pushing his tongue against Dave's and swallowing his high pitched cry what Nick's thrust turn harsher and deeper.



His breath hitches, he holds it in for a couple of seconds before exhaling slowly.



Nick's arm across his chest presses him back, and suddenly he feels his breath warm on the shell of his ear, wet lips brushing his skin.

"Watch him, Dave," he murmurs huskily, and David does, transfixed.

Greg stands before them, licking his lips as he slowly works on unbuttoning his shirt.

His face is flushes, serious, but half-way a teasing caress to his nipples he bites his lips and can't help but to let out a snicker.

He shakes his head, dropping his hand, and Dave's mouth curls upwards by its own will at the sight, Nick snorting amusedly behind him.

Greg chuckles as he steps closer, giddy, taking David's face in his hands and kissing him deeply. He stands between their legs as Nick's hand sneaks under Dave's shit, his mouth lacing on the stretched juncture of his neck and shoulder.

David gropes the back of Greg's thighs and ass, pulling him closer as he lays further back into Nick.

His fingers fumble with Nick's to undo the younger man's belt and zip, and Greg lets them, drawing back to smirk down at Dave's swollen wet lips and reddened skin.

Nick pushes his jeans down and swats his ass, and Greg laughs before grabbing the hem of David's shirt pulling it over his head and flinging it somewhere.

Dave's eyes are burning and shifty and he can't look away from Greg, unsmiling, dark, greedy.



He gets up, hastily pulling his clothes on.

His skin feels tight, feverish.

He rubs across his chest, where Nick's arm rested, trying to make the feeling go away.

He can't stand the reminder.

He needs to forget, or else he'll keep remembering, he'll realize he wants more.

David rushes out of the house as the shower door slams closed and Nick moves around the bathroom, humming.

If he speaks, he'll ask them to let him stay. Pathetic.

He won't.



He sits on Greg's couch, watching him and Nick playing their stupid video-games, bored as hell.

No matter how much he grumbles, they won't let him go home because they think he needs to stay around people more and stop locking himself up on his free days, or mind his own business.

Right.

He wonders what's the use of all this if said people are all but ignoring him.

If it hadn’t been for Greg, he'd be reading one of his books or even wandering around the city-- but no, that lab-brat had to show up and drag him out of his apartment totally unwilling.

David feels vaguely deported.

Maybe he should have screamed for help, see what'd have happened then.

Greg said they could just watch a DVD, hit the clubs later –joy-, hang around.

Dave had spent the whole trip back to his apartment planning how to annoy the younger man enough to be set free again, and throwing him popcorn had been quite high on his list.

But of course Greg happened to realize the DVD he wanted to watch had gone missing, oh, yeah, Nick has it, I'll just see if he can come over.

Throwing popcorn at him just wouldn't be enough.

That's when he had started edging towards the door to never return.

Imagine being in the same room as two people who are a couple. Not exactly comfortable, is it?

Well, now imagine the same thing with touchy-feely Nick and Greg playing the couple. David's brain had frizzled at the idea.

It doesn't even matter that yeah, Greg is not so bad after all, and well, weren't it for Nick, he would have given it a try maybe. And you try to hate Nick for that.
His blind sense of justice aside, he's pretty neat, fun and entertaining to look at.

So, he ends up sitting there and watching them giggle and elbow each others, side by side on the floor, because Nick forgot the DVD and on his way there it had started raining, so he thought it'd be okay to just show up without.

And somehow they're there, having their fun, all but getting all lovey-dovey over each others, and Dave is half-sprawled on Greg's couch looking back and forth at the flashing screen and their backs, silently, and he surprisingly doesn't mind at all.

Nick leans back his head back and brushes his hand, making David jolt it back before he can catch himself, and flick him behind his ear, eliciting an indignant sound out of him and a glare. He only smirks back.

Greg squeals –again-, making him rolls his eyes.

David can't even figure what triggered it this time, damn lab-brat, as much as he squints and tries to make sense of it. They're quick with commands and it's just confusing, and he misses their conspiratory glance as he starts considering looking at the screen upside-down.

Nick's outraged yelp draws his attention away, and he catches him glare at Greg as he gets up to slump down on the couch on Dave's other side.

He throws the sulking man a puzzled look, and turns around again when Greg nudges his shin.

"Take the controller, D. We're showing that big dope over there even beginners are better at choosing teams," he snorts, eyes shifting from him, to Nick, to the screen again.

Nick hands him the controller before the tech can refuse. He takes his hands firmly in his and wraps them around it, showing him how to hold it.

He leans slightly, and Dave is suddenly very aware of his movements, of the scent of his aftershave, the warmth and roughness of his skin.

He's not used to have people so close, touching him.

David blinks when he misses what Nick is muttering, still sullen at Greg, and lets go. He leans back and darts Dave a questioning glance at his stare, before smiling and motioning at the screen.

David hastily turns to look at it, suppressing a blush at being caught like that, and awkwardly tries to get the knack of it.

He frowns, absorbing himself in pressing the right buttons, ending up pushing them randomly and growling at Greg's instructions.

He doesn't mind the rustling of clothes at his side, he doesn't glance down at Greg when he tells him to try once by himself.

His eyes are fixed on the screen and briefly he wonders if next thing he knows he'll be having an epileptic attack on the floor.

All of a sudden there are hands sliding down Dave's arms, wrapping around his wrists gently as the controller's tugged out of his grasp, and he frowns, first at the TV and then down at his captured limbs.

"What...?" Dave starts, Nick's arm encircling him. They're his hands that hold Dave's wrists, and he can feel his naked chest press against his elbow.

David doesn't know what to say, his brain furiously tries to find a reason for Nick to be sitting naked behind him and Greg's knowing smirk, and fails.

He frowns down at his friend, alarmed.

"What's this, Sanders?" his words are fast and harsh, close to breaking, but Greg doesn't budge.

"Dave, ..."

Hearing his name being whispered so lightly in his ear, so close, startles him, and he jerks forward a bit.

He grows tense, nervous, it makes no damn sense and his brain is all but growling while his body has a mind of its own and wants him to enjoy the touch.


He wonders what the hell they have in mind, well, he actually has a pretty good idea of what, but a why wouldn't hurt either.

It's just a tad strange his two very much happily together friends decide to have a threesome with him, just like that, out of the blue, his brain supplies somehow hysterically, and maybe those blasted video games are just a short cut straight to twilight zone.

"Dave," Nick repeats, not moving closer, his tone slightly worried, " we thought, just..."

"If this is some weird way of yours to get me laid because you think I so need it, you can save it," he snarls lowly, freeing himself from Nick's arms to stand in the middle of the room, facing both of them.

His fingers itch in anger, and he folds his arms over his chest.

Dave tries to keep a cool front but this is seriously too fucked up, even for hamster-on-crack-Sanders, who, by the way, has been strangely silent so far.

A look of puzzlement flashes on Nick's face before his eyes widen a bit and he opens his mouth to speak, but Greg holds up his hand, effectively stopping him.

"You surely think highly of yourself, don't you? You think we'd jump in bed with you if it were only to get you laid?" he arches an eyebrow, amused "if that were the case, I'd buy you a hustler, David."

Which answers none of his whys, but at least supposedly takes care of the pitying part.

"You seemed interested, and so were we," he continues, and shrugs.

"Did I, now?" Dave cocks his head to the side, sneering a bit. He doesn't want to think, and still he wonders if it's been so obvious the whole time, when he didn't even know himself.

It's too weird, it can't be happening. He fell down the hole while he wasn't looking and ended up in some kind of sick porn novel, that must be it. Next will be a White Rabbit in a thong and the Cheshire Cat running a brothel.

"Every single inch of eye-fucking, D," the smug smirk on Greg's lips makes his irritation flare up briefly, he doesn't like to be played with, but the younger man tilts his head back slightly, baring his long tanned neck, and glances at him through his eyelashes. David's mouth goes dry, and he wets his lips unconsciously.

"What do you say, Dave?" his eyes snap back to Nick at the sound of his voice, quiet and unsure and yet the look in his eyes is encouraging and warm, "we're not asking for commitment, lets just try and see what happens afterwards. Let's take it from there. Nothing is going to change."

Sure, he wants to say, bitter, sure. As if one could just do something like this and then ignore it altogether. Sure.

David knows he's a stupid for nodding, slowly, still calculating, for giving in and trusting in despite his better judgement, and part of him can't quite believe he lowers his arms when Greg approaches him, nor that Greg's eyes are dark with lust or that he lets him take his hands and stare at him in the eye for a second before he's suddenly attacking Dave's mouth hungrily, tugging him along as he takes a few steps backwards.

And then he's spinning the two of them around and pushing him away.

David staggers back dazedly until the back of his knees hit the couch, and then hands grab him again, pulling him down to sit with his back against Nick's chest. The fingers guiding him are strong and gentle and for a second the fear and anticipation fluttering in his stomach disappear.



He hides in his lab for the rest of the day.

It's not hiding, he tells himself, it's working.

He keeps his mind nicely blank.

He works and refuses to look up from his microscope when Nick appears at his side, but he catches the tentative movement of the hand almost touching his shoulder, before dropping back to the other man's side.

He works and doesn't encourage any kind of conversation other than sharing the test results, noting something on a pad on the side of the counter from time to time.

He works and bitterly muses to himself he deserves Nick's clipped thanks as he walks out.

He's still working when Greg brings him some samples for Grissom, but he's caught in the corner of the lab farthest from the microscope, and when he gazes up Greg finds the look in his eyes raw, stubborn, rejecting.

He says nothing, holds his stare briefly, and leaves.

In the locker room, Dave hears Nick's words in his head but won't let any thought, any hope haunt him.

Let's take it from there.

He mechanically slips his wallet in his back pocket and stares as a small post-it note flutters down on the floor.

He locks the door and heads home.



At 12am, he's still sitting at his kitchen table, now and then glancing at the cordless tiredly.

He lays his head down, hoping the cold surface will ease his headache some.