Title: Heart and Shoulder
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Gil Grissom
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Gil Grissom, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.
Series: 1) Welcome To Hell, 2) Live Through This, 3) Racing Against Time, 4) Rip Him To Shreds, 5) Killing Lies, 6) Never Give Up, 7) Just When I Needed You Most, 8) First in Line, 9) No Words Needed, 10) Make Believe

***

Greg curled his long legs beneath him on the couch, resting his head back against the cushions and closing his eyes. He'd been feeling much better now that he was here in Gil's home, but he still wasn't back to being his normal self yet. That would take a while.

He'd been haunted by horrible dreams last night, though he hadn't wanted to tell Gil. He had awakened in the guest bedroom at Gil's house, dazed and disoriented, a scream that hadn't made its way out lodged in his throat. For a few moments, he hadn't known where he was.

He had thought that he was back in that room, naked and vulnerable, his body stretched taut and bound to that stone altar. He'd squeezed his eyes tightly shut, waiting for the next man to approach him from behind to violate him again, the cycle starting over.

But it hadn't happened. He'd realized after a few long, torturous minutes that he was safe, that what had been done to him was in the past and that he was safe in bed at Gil's house. Nothing was going to hurt him here; Gil would keep him safe and protected from any harm.

It had taken him a long time to go back to sleep, and even then, he'd just dozed off and on. Gil had been eagle-eyed this morning, noticing that there were dark circles under his eyes and asking him if he'd gotten any sleep. Greg had been evasive, but it hadn't worked.

Gil hadn't lectured him on the benefits of sleep, but Greg could tell that he wanted to. He had been tempted to tell the other man that he would have slept a lot better if he could have spent the night in Gil's arms, in his bed, but he hadn't felt that he should bring the subject up.

What if Gil wasn't over Sara yet? What if he'd loved her more than he wanted to admit, and he was having second thoughts about starting a relationship with Greg? The thought made his throat tighten and brought tears to his eyes.

He didn't want their relationship to be at an end before it had even started. He'd spent so many years of his life wanting Gil, feeling that he could never have the man he loved. To have that man hold out a hand to him and then snatch it away again was more than Greg could bear.

No. Gil wouldn't do that, Greg told himself firmly. He wasn't the kind of man to be indecisive, especially when it came to his emotions. If his feelings had changed in just a couple of short days, he would have said so, in the kindest way possible.

There was no reason for him to be afraid that the older man didn't want him any more. Just because he wasn't spending his nights in Gil's bed didn't mean that Gil didn't love him -- or want him. It just meant that he was being cautious after what Greg had been through.

He wasn't sure that he was ready for more than being held and kissed, at this point. He loved feeling Gil's strong arms around him; he loved feeling close to the man he loved. But he wasn't ready for things to get more intimate than that, at least not yet.

Greg had no doubt that he would get to the point where his desire for Gil would overcome his fears. But for now, he knew that trying to jump into an intimate physical relationship wouldn't be the right thing for him. And he was lucky that Gil respected that, and didn't try to push him.

"You look awfully solemn," Gil told him, coming into the room to sit down on the couch next to Greg. "What are you thinking about to look so serious? I don't like seeing you frown like that, Greg. I miss your smile. I don't see it enough these days."

Greg couldn't help smiling a little at those words; he supposed that Gil was right. He hadn't been smiling a lot, but then, he hadn't had much of a reason to after what had happened. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should be smiling a lot more now that we've got things settled between us."

"Is there something bothering you?" Gil asked, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him close. Greg was surprised by the gesture; he had always thought that Gil was a man who would keep close physical interactions to a minimum, even in his personal life.

But he wasn't going to turn down the comfort of the other man's arms when it was offered. He snuggled close to Gil, resting his head on that sturdy, strong shoulder. "Yeah, I guess there is. I just feel .... I don't know. Like there's so much still up in the air."

"Do you mean about us?" Gil questioned, raising an eyebrow. Greg's eyes widened as he looked up at the older man; he hadn't realized that Gil was so perceptive of his feelings. Slowly, he nodded, hoping that Gil didn't think he was having doubts about the two of them.

"Greg, there's nothing to worry about," Gil told him, his voice soft and husky. He raised a hand to run his fingers through Greg's hair, his touch gentle and loving. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't want you to be with me. I'm not going to walk away from you."

"I k-keep thinking that you might change your m-mind," Greg whispered, his voice trembling. "I mean .... it's not like I can j-just jump into being physical. It's not that I d-don't want to be with you, b-but ...." His voice trailed off; he swallowed hard, at a loss for words.

"Greg, I understand." Gil's voice was very soft, the words barely carrying in the quiet of the room. "Are you worrying because I haven't been sleeping with you? That's easily remedied. I want you in my bed. I just didn't think you'd be comfortable being there yet."

"I want to spend my nights with you," Greg blurted out, unable to keep the words back. "I want you to hold me all night. I want to fall asleep beside you and wake up in your arms. I'm just not ready to -- to have sex yet. I don't know when I will be."

"Sex isn't anywhere near the most important part of our relationship," Gil told him quietly, placing a finger under Greg's chin and raising the young man's face to his. "Greg, I've given you my heart. I love you. I've always loved you. That's the important part of us. Not the physical side."

"I just don't want you to get tired of waiting for me," Greg mumbled, unsure of what to say. He'd been so sure that Gil would be having second thoughts about them; he hadn't realized that the other man had given as much of himself as Greg had.

The thought humbled him, brought the tears rushing to his eyes again. This time, he couldn't hold them back; he could feel them starting to streak down his face, even though he tried to blink them back. Gil's fingers brushed them away, his touch as gentle as a summer breeze.

"I'll never get tired of being with you, Greg," Gil said softly, his gaze still locked with Greg's. "Not even if we never have sex. Love isn't about sex. It's about hearts. I've given you mine. And if you need a shoulder to cry on, you can have that, too. Anything you need, Greg. It's yours."

Greg nodded, gulping back a sob. Before he knew what was happening, Gil's arms were wrapped around him, his head resting on the other man's shoulder, and he was crying into the warmth of that shoulder, his own arms sliding around Gil's waist to hold on to him as tightly as he could.

He needed Gil's shoulder, even more than he needed the older man's heart. He needed the comfort of those arms, of knowing that Gil loved him and wanted to be with him, even if he wasn't ready for them to be intimate yet. He needed to know that he was wanted.

Maybe what he'd been through had damaged him more than he'd thought, Greg told himself, trying in vain to stop his tears. He hadn't thought that he was so emotional, so needy. Or maybe those traits had always been there, and that awful experience had just brought them out.

"You always have my heart and my shoulder, whenever you need them," Gil whispered, raising a hand to stroke Greg's hair. "You don't even have to ask, Greg. They've always been yours. Feel free to lean on them any time that you need to."

"You've always got mine, too -- even if they don't amount to much right now," Greg said, sniffling as he raised his head to look at Gil. He raised a hand to wipe at his tears, glad that they'd at least stopped for the time being. He cried way too easily these days.

"I won't deny that I want your body, Greg," Gil told him, leaning forward to kiss the tears from Greg's cheeks. "But your heart is more important to me. I treasure your heart above anything else that anyone has ever given to me."

Those words made Greg's throat tighten again; he swallowed hard, determined that he wasn't going to cry yet again. He'd done enough of that for one day. "You can have my shoulder any time, too. Even if I can't picture you ever needing to use it."

"You might be surprised," Gil told him with a smile. "You haven't had a chance to see my softer side a lot, but it's there. And believe me, there will be times when you'll get a good look at it. And I want you to see that side, Greg. I want you to know that it's there."

Greg nodded, resting his head against Gil's shoulder again. "I already do," he whispered, feeling a little overwhelmed at everything Gil was telling him. He'd known that Gil cared about him, but he hadn't expected such an outpouring of love.

Gil disentangled himself from their embrace, rising to his feet and holding out his hand to the young man. "Come on," he said softly, as he pulled Greg to his feet. "Let's go to bed. I want to spend the night holding you and letting you know that you're right where you belong."

Greg's heart seemed to leap in his chest as Gil led him down the darkened hallway towards the master bedroom. All he wanted to be in Gil's arms, held close against his heart -- the only place he wanted to be, and the place where he felt he truly belonged.

***