Title: Hot
Author: Dee
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 8490
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes and a few familiar faces along the way!
Warnings: AU and fluff!
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: In my dreams they are like, totally mine!
Unbeta-ed: All mistakes will (definitely) be mine.
A/N: And yet another old fic recently completed; the start of this fic was written in 2009 and I think I may well have plagiarised myself with a fic I wrote not to so long ago about Gil and Nick waking up together at Catherine's house... Hey ho... (The rest of the fic is completely different...I hope!)

***

Nick was hot.  In fact he was so hot it had woken him up.  He was hot and sweating. 

He lay in the heat trying not to think about his head, which was pounding.  His brain was pulsating in his skull - like the hooves of a mad bull.

He lay in the heat and tried not to think about the cotton wool that appeared to be stuffed into his mouth having been dipped first into some foul and obnoxious fluid.  He couldn't quite identify the fluid, but he thought the taste was not dissimilar to the smell of the contents of the stomach of a body on the Doc's autopsy table.

Then there was his own stomach which was churning; he was not quite in the realms of hurling just yet, but it was hovering in the background.

The heat made it worse.  He needed to move.  That need was becoming urgent because he believed that if he moved, his head would be less inclined to resemble a stampede at the rodeo; his mouth wouldn't be filled with fetid cotton wool, and his stomach would become becalmed.

That only left his bladder.

He still hadn't opened his eyes because he didn't want to see the source of the heat, he didn't want to acknowledge why he was so hot.  If he didn't see, it wouldn't be real.

He started to move away from the intensity of the heat, carefully, his eyes closed; but the heat moved.  The heat spoke to him.

"Why do we end up doing this every time you get drunk?"

"Huh."  Nick said this affecting a shoulder shrug but without opening his eyes.

"This is the third time."

"Mmmm."  Nick nodded this time.

"Don't you ever want to do it when you're sober?"

"Does it matter to you?"  Nick heard an intake of breath at the question.

"No.  It doesn't.  I think you'd better leave...before you sober up and realise your mistake."  The voice was icy cold.

But Nick was still very hot.  "Mmmm.  Hot."  Nick made no further attempt to move. He felt dreadful.  Sick to his stomach with the drink and with embarrassment.

"Because you're plastered half under and over me.  And, you're wrapped in all the blankets.  Get up and get out."

"Mmmm."

"Come on, move; get up.  Get dressed and get out.  Three strikes and you're out; you won't be back."

Nick took a deep breath; he really did think that he would be vomiting in a very short space of time.  He was being thrown out his bed.  Out of his life.  Oh, come on, you stupid ass, who are you trying to kid, you've never been in his life.  Just three times in his bed.   He still hadn't opened his eyes but somehow he wasn't hot anymore.  He had something icy gripping him, enveloping him in an icy embrace.

"How many men have you ever slept with, Nick?  Do you always have you to be drunk to be fucked?  Is there something wrong with you?"

Nick didn't respond at all because he couldn't.  He had to get up now.  Now.  He opened his eyes at about the same time the bile rose in his throat.  The room was dim, but he could see his way to the bathroom.  He used force to disentangle his limbs from both the body and bedclothes.

He made it to the toilet as he heaved his first dry heave.  He dropped to his knees and hugged the cold porcelain as he began to expel the contents of his stomach.  His eyes cried tears of disgust at himself.  His body shook at the physical effort.  Minutes seemed like hours, but eventually he was spent.  He flushed.  He tore paper off the roll and wiped around the toilet.  He stood and pissed.  He was very aware of his sore ass.  His sore everything.

He flushed again.  He looked at the toilet; he didn't appear to have made any more mess; it was him who was the mess, not the toilet.  He moved to the sink and didn't look at himself as he washed his hands and then leaned over the sink and with his cupped hands siphoned water into his mouth to swill it, drink it and then splash it around his face. 

He did look up then, into the wreck of his face.  It seemed to him he had aged overnight.  He was thirty-four and still acting the frat boy.  He was ashamed; and the tears he cried while vomiting threatened to come back.  He turned towards the shower.  He'd shower.

He knew he'd been ordered out but he couldn't face going back into the bedroom to retrieve his clothes and be under the scrutiny of the man in the bed.  What a fuck up.  He'd let the man sodomise him and yet couldn't look him in the face.  He'd let him; he'd begged, he'd wanted it, he'd wanted the violation.  He'd wanted to feel the penetration; there was nothing better, nothing he would rather feel than another man in him, buried in him.  Nothing he would rather feel than him buried in him.  But for this particular man he had to be drunk.

He felt hot again.  At the pleasure.  At the humiliation.

He switched on the water and stepped into the cubicle immediately, feeling the icy water assault his hot body and cause him to shiver, violently.  It warmed quickly but he turned it down to cold again and shivered until he became accustomed to it and he stood still under the torrent of water.  He heard the toilet flush and didn't dare look. 

He heard him wash his hands at the sink.  He didn't speak so he'd let Nick finish his shower.  If he was really lucky he'd leave the bedroom and Nick could dress and leave without scrutiny.

There was only one problem.  It would be the last time.  He would never sleep in that bed again.  He would never feel his arms around him; his kisses, his all-consuming presence and his body.  That body would never heat him up again.  He would never feel that particular...that unique heat again. 

He wasn't a virgin; he'd had plenty of men...boyfriends ...before, but it was him, who had done this to him.  Made him have to drink enough beer or liquor to get it on.  When he was there.  When he touched him and smirked and invited him back.  Three times; now it was over because he was too scared to tell it as it is...that it was wanting, him, him...so much that made him drink.

His one chance had been thrown away.  No, his three chances had been thrown away. He finished the shower and opened the cubicle door.  There was a clean towel on the edge of the sink; all his clothes and shoes had been unceremoniously dumped on the floor, by the door.  They'd been collected up from where they'd been thrown and now left for him to dress...and leave.

He felt the embarrassment in his chest, as hurt.  He felt his cheeks flush with that embarrassment.  He dried his body haphazardly and tried to dress quickly, only the dampness of his body made that impossible.  His discomfort was complete.

When he'd finally dressed himself in his crumpled clothing, he stood up and took a few deep breaths.  Getting between this bathroom and the front door would be difficult, but he had to get out.  No use putting it off.

He pulled open the door, it hadn't been closed shut.  There was no one in the bedroom but the smell of coffee invaded his nostrils.  His stomach growled at the thought of a delicious mug of steaming coffee.

Nick walked across the bedroom to the door - this one wasn't closed either.  He couldn't hear any sounds of movement.  He opened it wide and moved into the hallway.  In well under a minute he could be out.  He walked down the stairs, trying not to rush or to dawdle - he wanted to be normal.  He wanted to be...to appear normal.

In the living room a glance around the empty room meant his escape could go unnoticed.  He moved across the room trying to be quiet.  Nick was pretty sure that he was in the kitchen; the smell of the freshly brewed coffee was making him salivate.

As he reached the front door he had his hand on the door lock and his escape was just a hair's breadth away when he spoke to him.

"I don't understand this, Nick."  Nick took a deep breath; it would help if he actually understood it himself.  But, attack was the only line of defence he had at that moment. 

"I wanted a fuck and you were...there."

"Did you think you were doing me a favour?  Are you a whore?"

It was like a stab wound to his chest, deep, painful; inflicting maximum pain and damage in one thrust.  His head dropped and his shoulders slumped; he should have known he was too stupid to win any points in a verbal stand-off.

He grasped the latch and opened the door; the sunlight attacked his eyes causing them to water, he pulled the door closed behind him and for one absurd moment he thought he may come out to him and beg him to stay. 

Of course...he wouldn't. 

***

But...as Nick reached his truck the front door was flung open and he called to him.

"Nick; stop, come back, have some coffee, at least."

Nick stopped dead.  He had come out to him.  Nick turned and looked.  He was in the robe that had seen much better days and his feet were bare.  He still looked tired...weary...and his hair was very curly and unruly.  Was this the same man?  In the bright light of the day was this the man he'd slept with...who'd fucked him?

Yes.  It was Gil Grissom.

"I'm sorry, what I said was...uncalled for."  Nick nodded his acceptance of the apology.   

He wanted to refuse to go back in, but he just couldn't.  "Okay; yeah, coffee would be good.  Thanks."  He walked back towards the door and Grissom went back indoors and Nick followed him into the house, closing the door behind him and walking towards the kitchen and the coffee.

Everything looked different now; it was daylight and he was sober.

"Black?"

"Yeah, thanks and a sugar...or two."

"Good idea.  Do you feel better than you did?  Do you want something for your head?"

"No, I'm okay, thanks."  Great conversation going on here.  "How about you?"

"I'm fine.  I didn't....I didn't drink as much."

"No."

"Look, I don't know what it is with you, but frankly, I don't think you should be getting drunk and letting a man...fuck...you three times in as many weeks."

"No."

"What is it, Nick?"

Nick paused.  He just couldn't tell him that he was dying from the inside out from wanting him so much and yet so paralysed with fear of him that he needed alcohol to be with him.  But then he did have a stand-by excuse and he pulled it out of the bag.  "Isn't it obvious?"

"Well you obviously have some issues...is it accepting what, who, you are."

"I'm a Texan, from a family of heterosexual Texans, I moved here to try to be myself but it's harder than I thought."  Okay, he was Texan and the only gay in his family...as far as he knew...and his parents didn't know about him.  But moving to Vegas has been liberating and he used to get his thrills whenever he wanted them...until the day he'd found out that Gil Grissom was also gay.  And then he'd slept with him...three times...and now it was over all because Nick couldn't for the life of him make at pass at him when he was sober.  And that was altogether something else...and he didn't know why.

"Nick...I like you...I mean I really like you and I know I've taken advantage of you being drunk..."

"...I wasn't that drunk...just enough...to..."  Sleep with you...he wanted to say.

"...loosen up?  I know, otherwise I promise you I wouldn't have made a move."

"I wanted you to, you know?"  If you only knew how much, he thought.

"I know; but, I did mean what I said to you...this is going nowhere until you come to terms with what's going on with you.  Do you understand?"

Nick nodded.  But that sounded promising, didn't it?  This is going nowhere...until...

"It's not like I'm going to abandon you...I'll help...well, try to help.  You do know what Catherine says about me helping people?"

"They end up worse off?"  Catherine had said a lot more than that on the subject but he left it short and sweet.

"Pretty much."

"So?  Nick?  The ball's in your court."

"Yeah.  Therapy, I guess.  Been trying to avoid it for years."  He'd actually contemplated it on several occasions...to help him man-up enough to be able to tell his parents.

"I've got some sympathy for you...I've never liked the idea of spilling my guts to a stranger...sorry, this isn't helping is it...Catherine's right."

"I've got to tell my parents, Gris, but just the thought of telling them...because, they should know...fills me with dread.  Danny and the girls...they'll kill me...not kill, but you know what I mean?"  Now this was seriously weird; this was the absolute truth of the matter and nothing but the truth.  Telling his Mom and Dad and the family...that was serious shit.  He suddenly became aware that Gris was speaking again.

"It wasn't hard at all for me...my mother's been totally accepting.   But I do...you know I keep my private life...private, but it's not secret; perhaps discreet would be a better word.  I'm not ashamed but I will admit that there's only my mother and some distant relatives.  So no extended family and all that entails with the personalities involved."

"You're lucky."

"Are you saying the no one in your family will accept you as a gay man?  Don't they even suspect?"

"Hell, Gris, you didn't know I was gay until I came on to you and you're supposed to have gaydar!"

"Yes, there is that...but you knew about me."

"Yeah, I did."  He'd heard if from a cop who knew an old flame of Grissom's.  "I suppose my twin sisters would be okay...they're the next in age to me...we've always been the closest."

"Remind me, how many siblings have you?"

"Five sisters and one brother...Danny's the eldest and I'm the youngest and the girls are spread out in between."

"Jesus."

"It wasn't so bad...until I realised.  I suppose I should have just told them when I first knew...but you know that fifteen years ago things were very different and the AIDS thing was in the news and I just never felt the time was right.  Leaving was the answer...but they still don't know.  Not much has changed."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Therapy.  Yeah.  Definitely."  He made his mind up there and then.

"Right."

"Thanks for the coffee, I'd better get going...I'm sorry Gris...for, you know, being drunk and all..."  He tried an apologetic smile and Gris did smile back.

"You've got nothing to be sorry about...not really; I hope things turn out okay for you."

"Will you hang around and wait?"

"Wait?"

"You said....doesn't matter...sorry...see you at work."  Nick felt suddenly sad; he'd lost Gris, he knew it.

"I said I wouldn't abandon you and I mean it, but you've got to sort yourself out...you really have."

"Yeah...okay...thanks."

Nick put his coffee mug in the sink and smiled again, nodded to him and left.

When Nick was sitting in his truck, he hesitated for a few moments before starting the engine.  He was under no illusion...this was the last time he'd ever be inside Gil Grissom's house and in his bed.  Nick shook his head to clear it and fired up the truck.

As he drove home, he thought about what he had to do...of all the men he'd slept with, and there were fair number, he only wanted Gil Grissom.  Really wanted him.  He chuckled, wryly; he guessed this was just how Sara felt.

***

Three weeks after the talk in Gris' kitchen he was sitting uncomfortably opposite a woman in her fifties...Angela.   She seemed pleasant and kind.  Nick felt stupid.  He was a grown man, for God's sake.  But nevertheless he started to tell her his life story...he was paying for her with his own money, because he didn't want his work medical insurance knowing about it...so he had to make the best use of it as quickly as possible.

Surely it wouldn't be that difficult...he was sure that he accepted his own homosexuality...it was just telling his family...that was the problem. 

For four weeks Nick religiously entered into the spirit of his therapy and he thought he was making progress...but then Angela decided that to move forward with his family he had to make a decision and see it though, since she determined once he'd told them...and regardless of their reaction...Nick would feel better about everything.  Of course he never mentioned Gil Grissom.  Not once.

Angela's considered opinion was that the guilt he felt over his parents was because he was a genuinely honest man who was deceiving his parents; he'd always been an open and truthful person except for this one issue...and okay it was a big issue but she saw no way forward for Nick unless he confronted this particular demon.

In truth, Nick was pissed; he'd been paying Angela some big bucks and this was her conclusion?  He could have told her that during their first session...oh, wait, he did.

So in the end he concluded that he was old enough and brave enough to do it and face the consequences.  It was his life and he had to start living it without this huge elephant tagging along.

So four and a half weeks after he started therapy he knocked on the door of Gris' office as he walked in before he was invited.  He'd been chuckling to himself as he'd walked up the corridor towards the office.  Despite what Gris had said a couple of months ago...about not abandoning him...he'd made no comment, not asked one question and mostly ignored Nick.  But Nick did feel as if his crush on him was a lot less consuming.  Unless that was because his anxiety about telling his parents had overtaken his anxiety over Gris.

"Nick, how's that Potter case coming along?"  Even though Catherine was his supervisor now, Gil still knew every case that they worked on.

"Good...we've ruled out Professor Dumbledore.  We have evidence it was the neighbour but he's disappeared; Jim's put out an APB for him."  Nick slid into the chair opposite Gris, with the desk between them.

Grissom looked perplexed.  But then spoke very seriously.  "I was almost certain it was Severus Snape using a deadly potion...are you sure he hasn't used a cover-up-the-truth spell on you?"

Nick laughed.  "Pretty sure."

They then sat in silence for a few moments.

"So?"  Grissom asked.

"Oh, yes.  I'm taking some leave.  Catherine's okayed a couple of days next week, tagged onto my rest days."

"That's good."  But Nick could see that Gris had absolutely no idea why he was being told this information.  Even when he'd worked for Gris, he'd a very tenuous hold over the team's whereabouts if they weren't actually in work.

"Yeah, I'm off to Texas for few days...reconnect with the family."

He nodded.  "Good."  And that really was that so Nick left his office, shaking his head and wondering why he'd gone in and told him in the first place.  The guy was clueless about most things that were not forensically relevant; that was an absolute.  He bet Grissom had no idea that Sara and Sofia would, given a little encouragement, fight each other to the death for a place in his bed.

Gris hadn't asked how Nick was, whether Nick was sorting out his problem or anything else.  It was normal Grissom.  Nick didn't know why he was disappointed that Grissom had behaved like that...because was that absolutely par for the course as far as he was concerned.  But he couldn't quite shake it off because, after all, he had slept with the man.  Let himself be fucked by the man...and now it was if they were barely acquainted.

As Nick sat in the lab checking through some fibre analysis data he suddenly wondered if Gris had in fact slept with anyone else in the lab.  Perhaps Nick wasn't the only man...or woman...who was treated in this manner.  He was pretty certain that Sara hadn't or she wouldn't have been chasing him around all day every day.  He shook himself.  No use thinking about it because one thing was a certainty...Grissom wasn't about to change for him, or anyone else for that matter.

Anyway he was going home to Texas and he was going to tell his Momma...and if he could summon up the balls, his Dad...that he was gay.  Angela had said it was at the crux of his life and he knew she was probably right even before he got her bill.  He'd thought he'd squandered his money...or maybe not.  He had spoken to her about his family and their dynamics like he'd never spoken to anyone before in his life and it had been very illuminating to have an outsider's opinion and he did, finally, feel sufficiently enabled to speak to his parents.

He called to see when they'd be at home and if he could visit...citing Texas withdrawal symptoms for his need for a homecoming.  His Mom had said she would arrange a barbeque.  Not exactly what he had in mind but it would be good to see his family.  He just hoped he would have the balls to go through with it...but somehow he thought he would.  The power of positive thinking, Angela had called it...maybe she was right.

His Mom was at the airport to meet him on the Thursday afternoon and it was good to see her.  She looked tired as he caught a glimpse of her before she saw him but when she did see him her face broke into her familiar grin and she held open her arms for him.

As he hugged her he realised how much he'd missed her and that he should come home more often.  He was going to tell her about himself but not really for one moment did he think she would not accept him and how he was.  He knew she would understand.  His father?  Well he couldn't tell one and not the other but he was far less confident about that outcome...

***

His mother, Jillian Stokes, chatted incessantly during the journey home...catching him up on all the family news.  He knew most of it anyway since he was in regular e-mail contact with his siblings; especially the twins.  But he liked listening to his Momma's voice and she seemed happy.  He was happy, too, despite what he had to do while he was visiting with his parents; he loved his family, his home, and Texas, of course.

 

"I know you have to fly out at eight on Sunday night so I've arranged a lunchtime barbeque with as many of the family who can get...start cooking at midday...give us plenty of time to eat, drink and make merry."  She smiled across at Nick.

 

He smiled back.  "That'll be great...I can smell the barbie already."

 

When they got home Nick got his duffle bag and took it up to his own room...so little had changed from when he left for college...he'd never really lived at home again after that but had visited when he could.  He ran back down to the kitchen and his Mom had put out a pitcher of homemade lemonade; he grabbed a glass and filled it almost to the rim before drinking half of it in one go.  His Mom came back in from the larder carrying a pie dish.

 

"I made a steak pie for you...just going to warm it through."

 

"Is Dad coming home early?"

 

"Yes, I told him to, he does too many hours anyway for a man of his age...so I told him we were eating at five and it wasn't up for negotiation.  And that you would finish off the pie if he wasn't back in time."

 

Nick laughed.  "I think you were exaggerating...take me at least two sittings to finish it off."  It was at least something that he had in common with his Dad...a deep and enduring love of Mom's steak pie.

 

"Mom, I've got something to tell you."

 

"What's that, baby?"  She was busying herself around the kitchen and when he didn't answer immediately she stopped and looked at him.  "What is it?"

 

Nick didn't know why he'd suddenly said it but he guessed there was no time like the present and he was pretty sure his Mom would be okay...shocked and maybe saddened...were the two adjectives he'd thought of for her on the flight down from Vegas to Dallas.  He'd tried not to think too much about his Dad.

 

"I'm gay, Mom."  Now that he'd said it, it was easy.

 

"Are you?  Pass that pan will you?"  She said in her normal voice without missing a beat.  Then she stopped and looked at him, her forehead creased in a frown.  "You're not sick are you?"

 

"Sick?  No...what do you mean?"

 

"HIV, I was thinking about, but you look very healthy."

 

"I am."  Nick was the one who was shocked as his Mom went about putting the already prepared vegetables on to boil and lighting the oven.  "Mom?  Look; stop and look at me...what's going on?"

 

She laughed.  "Sorry, baby.  I've known for years.  A mother knows...  It's no surprise to me...I was just waiting for you to tell me.  I thought that was why you'd moved away...to find yourself.  I guess I was right."

 

"Yeah, I guess I did."  Nick just stood there. "So you're okay with it?"

 

"Okay?  Nicholas Stokes of course I'm okay about it.  I was going to say something but Bill said..."

 

"...Dad knows?"  Nick screeched.

 

"Of course he does.  Nick we're your parents and we know...I think we all know...all the family."

 

Nick staggered over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair and sank into it.  "Mom...I've just spent six thousand bucks seeing a therapist so I could pluck up the courage to come home and tell you and you all...and you all know?"

 

"Now, a word of advice, Nick, don't tell your father that, you know what he thinks of therapy and therapists.  Why were you worried?  We've always run a liberal household, you know that."

 

"Yeah, I know."  He sat there and thought about it for a few moments.  He'd known that his Mom would be okay about it and he'd thought that she would influence his Dad into accepting it.  The therapy had been for him to pluck up the courage to tell them.  All in vain and his savings had taken a severe hit.

 

"Why didn't you say anything to me?"  Nick wanted to know.

 

"Like I said I was going to, but Bill said to leave you be and you'd tell us in your own good time.  Was he right?  Or should we have spoken to you about it?"

 

The thought of his Mom or his Dad...or both of them speaking about it before he was ready filled him with horror and with a blinding flash of realisation he knew that the problem was with him and not them.  He did need the therapy; he needed to sort it all out in his mind.  But one think he was absolutely sure of now...he would be chasing Gil Grissom's tail...he wanted him and he knew he now had the confidence to capture him.  That's what he'd paid six thousand bucks for...to get Gil Grissom.

 

"You're awful quiet, baby, are you okay?"

 

"I am, Mom.  I am.  You were right to leave it to me to tell you...when the time was right."  He got up from the chair and went over to her and hugged her.  "Love you, Mom.  Thanks for being my Mom."

 

"Thank you for being my son.  Oh, here's the Judge."  They both heard the horn blast outside the house.

 

"I'll go greet him."  Nick said and smiled at his Mom.  He went out onto the front porch just as his Dad was getting out of the car.  Still an imposing figure although he walked with a cane now since he'd had a hip and knee replaced.  Nick stepped down onto the driveway and went up to his father and hugged him.

 

"Hi, Daddy, how you doing?"

 

"Good son, good.  You?"  Bill Stokes awkwardly hugged his son, holding onto his cane and his briefcase.

 

"I'm good too.  Happy to be home with you and Mom...it's nice that there's just the three of us for dinner...and steak pie."  He grinned and took his father's briefcase from him.  "I had some news for you but when I told Mom...well, it seems you both know anyway."

 

"Ah-ah.  Out of the closet now, are you?"

 

"Yes Dad, I am."

 

"Why are you telling us now?  Got yourself a steady boyfriend?"

 

Nick blushed.  His father had never spoken to him like this before.  "No!  No, I haven't."  Then he grinned.  "But I've got someone in mind."

 

"Well at least we won't have to have a shotgun wedding."  He laughed.  Danny, his brother, and his middle sister, Louise, had both had to rush down the aisle.

 

"No way."

 

"You boys hungry?" 

 

"I could eat a horse, Jillian, but I'll settle for a cow."  He kissed his wife and then turned to Nick.  "So this boyfriend of yours...what's he like?"

***

Nick was sad to leave Dallas on the one hand but happy to be going back to his own home on the other.  His family was big and he'd been away from them long enough to enjoy the peace and quiet of living alone.  Granted they didn't get together in such a huge gathering normally but he'd had a headache by the time he'd got to Dallas airport to fly home to Vegas.  Funny that he referred to both Dallas and Vegas as home...and to him, they both were.

He had asked his Mom and Dad not to tell the family while he was there or that's all they would have talked about and he wasn't up to that just yet.  But his Mom said she would be discreet and let them all know quietly after he'd left.  That was best for him and she agreed with him.

His father had been relentless about the boyfriend...but funnily enough Nick had felt calm and happy enough and what's more...confident...to discuss Grissom with them.  He didn't tell them who he was, though and he embellished the rather sordid truth of what had really happened.  But after all he bragging he'd done about him he just hoped he could pull it off.

With a new found confidence and determination he located his truck in the lot at McCarron and paid for his parking.  He drove straight over to Gris' house.  His truck was on the driveway and the drapes were closed.  He thought that Gris was on a rest day that night but that didn't really mean much because he would go to work on any day and at any hour if he was following a case.

Nick held up his hand to knock and then had another thought.  What if Gris was entertaining....someone else?  That could be embarrassing.  He hesitated but only for a few moments and then banged in the door.  If there was a third person involved Nick would make a strategic withdrawal.  But something told him that that wasn't going to be the case.

He knocked the door again after he reckoned he'd left it a reasonable time.  He lifted his hand to knock a third time when it swung open.

"I thought you were in Texas?"

Grissom had clearly been in bed by the look of him.  Hair mussed, old robe strung around him, bare legs and feet.

"I was.  I'm back."

"And you've got me out of bed to announce your return?"  He didn't sound very pleased but Nick still grinned.

"I thought it was important enough to come tell you."

"It couldn't have waited?"

"No."

"I suppose you'd better come in then."

Nick was still grinning as he walked over the threshold and he closed the door behind him.  Before either man spoke again he gently pushed Gris against the wall by the door and kissed him.  Grissom was surprised but then he responded.  Nick pulled back and Gris' mouth almost followed him...not wanting to end the kiss.

"Notice anything different?"

Grissom looked as if Nick had grown two heads.  "Different?"

"Observational skills a bit lacking if you ask me.  I'm not drunk!"

"Ah.  No.  But I've been asleep and now my blood is deserting my brain for another organ."  Grissom smiled and pulled Nick back into the kiss.  When he pulled back it was to ask another question.

"Are you coming to bed with me?  Give me something to send me back to sleep?"

Nick wasn't about to say ‘no'.  "I thought you'd never ask."

They smiled at each other and Grissom indicated the way to his staircase and Nick went first.

"So what's happened that you don't need liquor to sleep with me?"

"I thought it was because I was feeling guilty about not telling my parents I was gay.  But it wasn't because I just told them and it wasn't a surprise to them...at all.  But then I figured out it was because..."  Was Nick about to reveal the truth...he didn't know.

"Because..."  They'd reached Gris' bedroom and Nick had pulled off his hoodie but he still held in it his hands.  "Because I really like you.  I mean, man, really like you.  And I was scared that you wouldn't want me, like me...but even when I was drunk you did, so I finally figured you...I don't know, but I hope...might want me even more if I wasn't drunk.  You know what...I don't really know what I'm talking about."  Nick tried a sheepish chuckle.

Grissom chuckled.  "You do know.  You were intimidated maybe..."

"...yeah, that's right, I was.  You're so...you know...intelligent and you know everything and I'm..."

"...the most handsome young man I've ever seen and I was really worried that you only let me fuck you when you were drunk because you couldn't bear me when you were sober.  But I was so desperate for you I let my dick rule my conscience...it was unforgiveable of me."

Nick was standing with his mouth open, staring at Grissom.  "You're joking me?"

"No.  I'm sorry I took advantage of you...I really should not have let it get as far as it did but I was getting desperate for...you.  That's why I threw you out...not because of you getting drunk and sleeping with me but because I was disgusted with myself for doing it."

"We are a matching pair alright...a pair of morons....asses.  Shit...man, I've spent six thousand bucks on a therapist and my parents knew about me and you wanted me all along."

"You're covered for a therapist with your medical insurance."

"I was too embarrassed to claim."

Grissom scratched his head.  "Well try a retrospective claim at least you might get some of it back.  Six thousand."  He whistled.

"I guess it was worth it...it did make me go home and tell my parents, even though they knew, and come here and speak to you and find that you really do...like me."

"I really do like you, Nick.  Now I do need some more sleep and I believe you did agree that you could provide a...a sleeping aid."

"I can do that."  He threw away his hoodie and pulled off his t-shirt then sat in the bed and took off his shoes.  In seconds his pants and briefs followed suit and his erection bobbed up and down eagerly.  He stood up and looked at Gris who was watching him with an amused expression.   "That robe's seen better days."

"It's comfortable, soft and familiar."

"And what about that?"  Nick pointed to the bulge in the robe.

"That's comfortable too, hard and familiar."  He undid the robe and instead of throwing it to the floor to join Nick's clothes he draped it over a chair.  He was naked.  Nick knew that he preferred to sleep naked.

Grissom walked the few steps up to him and slipped his arms around him and kissed him...their erections trapped between their bodies.  Grissom pulled back.

"Bed?"

"Yeah.  Lie on your back, I'll blow you to sleep."

"I will fall asleep.  What about you?"

"I can manage.  I'll hump your leg."  He waggled his eyebrows and grinned and manoeuvred Gris around and pushed him so he half fell, half sat on the bed...he scooted backwards and lay down and Nick jumped on the bed and knelt beside him.

"I'm going to enjoy this...it's so much better sober than drunk."  He leaned over Gris and kissed him thoroughly but then pulled back, grinned and dived down the bed and swallowed Grissom in one go.

For the next few minutes all that could be heard were the groans of Grissom and the obscene and lascivious sucking sounds that Nick was making with his lips and mouth around Grissom's dick.  Grissom came with almost a roar and moments later, true to his word, Nick lost his load on Grissom's thigh.

Nick flopped onto his back beside Grissom.

"Do you know, I always think of you as Gris or Grissom.  It seems odd to think of you as Gil.  Do you want me to call you, Gil?"

"I would like that.  Thank you.  For coming back.  I didn't think you would."

"I couldn't keep away.  Can we start over?"

"I think we just did."  Gil was drowsy and almost asleep.  "I must sleep.  Worked a double..."  And he was asleep.

Nick smiled at him and turned onto his side and watched him sleep, even though it was very dark.  Gil.  Gil.  He thought.  I must start calling him Gil and thinking of him as Gil.

***

They kind of fell into an easy relationship.  No drama; no angst.  Mostly just long talks, dates out for meals, movies, and then sex...and lots of it...  And Nick got used to calling Gris, Gil.

The only difficultly was their shifts.  Nick working swing...late afternoon until midnight and Gil was still on graveyard until early morning.  They often overlapped and worked the same case, although Catherine tried to avoid that as much as she could.  She disliked Grissom, Gil, muscling in on her act and her perception was that he was usurping her authority.  It was nothing of the kind...it was just her insecurity playing out.

So in a couple of weeks Nick got used to going to bed as soon as he got home to sleep while Gil was working and then they'd meet up most mornings for at least a few hours and then Gil would sleep while Nick was working.  Changing their patterns after so long was hard...especially for Gil...but they persevered or they would never have seen each other.  And, more importantly, they'd be missing out on the great sex they were having and that they both found very addictive. 

After about a month they were comfortable with the arrangement.  It suited them.

If Gil worked over in the morning, which he did quite often, then Nick would go to the gym and then they'd meet up for a late breakfast...and then on to one of their homes for sex.   It worked well...it wasn't too much too soon for either of them.

Except that Grissom was caught unawares...he was engrossed in a file that Sofia had dropped into his in-tray.

"Grissom?"  He looked up over his glasses to see Sara grinning at him

"Yes?"

"Do you think we could go out for breakfast?"

"I'm going to get some breakfast with Nick."

"Oh that's...good, yeah, that's good.  I could come along too."

"You could come along?  I suppose if you want to, you could."  Gil really hadn't engaged his brain before replying.

"Where are we going?  Shall I follow your truck?"  She was very happy thinking she'd make some kind of breakthrough.

"Benny's on Cedar."

"See you there then."

Luckily for Gil she was held up in the lab with a query about some fingerprints and having realised his mistake he high-tailed it out of work to meet up with Nick.  It really never occurred to him to actually tell her he'd changed his plans...because really he hadn't; he was still meeting Nick for breakfast.  But now he had something to tell him...urgently.

He parked up in the lot adjacent to Benny's and saw Nick's truck; he took a couple of deep breaths and prepared to meet his doom.  He had no doubt, thinking about it on the journey over that Nick would not be pleased.  And he thought that would be an understatement.

Nick had it in his head that Sara was a love rival.  Gil had laughed when Nick'd told him, because he was gay...Sara must know, most people did.   Nick had shaken his head in disbelief at Gil's assertion.  Whether she knew and refused to believe it, or worse, thought she could turn him straight, Nick didn't know, but he was absolutely certain about Sara.  Now as Gil prepared to meet up with Nick...and then Sara...maybe they would both find out the truth of the matter.  And Gil had the distinct feeling that he'd be on the losing side.

He reached the booth having seen Nick wave to him as he entered the diner.

"Hey, babe, not too late after all, this is only my first coffee."

"Hello.  Nick I want you to listen to me and I've got to be quick..."

"Sounds bad..."  Nick was smiling but Gil interrupted him.

"...I think it might be."  Gil looked around to see if she'd arrived; she hadn't so he looked back at Nick who'd lost his smile and replaced it with a frown.

"What's going on?"

"Shhh..."  Gil stopped and then took a deep breath and started his explanation.  "I was looking over a file when Sara..."

"What do you want to drink, honey?"  The waitress asked at that moment as she put a glass of water in front of Gil."

"Coffee, please."  Gil replied automatically and opened his mouth to speak again but Nick got in first.

"Uh-uh.  She's coming here isn't she?"

"How did you know?"  Gil was incredulous.

"A lucky guess.  You're like a cat on a hot tin roof and you know that the only thing that riles me is Sara and her crush on you.  So...go on."

"She invited me to breakfast and I said I was meeting you and she said that she'd come too."

"Hey, that's not too bad...I thought she was expecting you to be on your own."

"No.  She knows...about us."

"She knows about us having breakfast but I reckon that's all she knows...at least for the moment."

"You're going to tell her?"  Gil looked slightly alarmed.

"In the absence of your balls, Dr Grissom, I most certainly am."

"You think I'm clueless, don't you?"

"Not entirely.  You got me...okay it wasn't exactly straightforward and that was as much to do with me as it was with you...but we got there in the end."

Gil relaxed a little.  "I'm glad we did."

"Just try and follow what I say and agree with me...don't act surprised.  Can you manage that?"  Nick chuckled; he thought that might be a bit of a tall order, since Gil was both literal and unable to lie.

To give him his due, Gil did look a little worried at the prospect.  "I'll try...but don't make it too difficult...or outrageous."  Nick laughed.

"She's just walked past the window.  I'll wave; you look at the menu, here."  He gave Gil the menu he'd had in front of him and then looked up and grinned over at Sara as she entered the diner.

She grinned back and made her way over and slid into the booth next to Gil.  He was sitting opposite Nick.

"Nick.  How are doing?   Are Warrick and Catherine coming?"

"Warrick and...  No, why would they be here?"  Nick sounded, to Gil's ears, to be the epitome of innocence and he smirked to himself.

"I thought Grissom was meeting up with the old shift members."  She was still grinning with no idea of what was about to happen and momentarily Nick did feel guilty...but the feeling passed as quickly as it's arrived.

"No.  Just me.  We have breakfast most mornings...when work allows.  Here."  He handed Sara a menu with a smile as he buried his head in another one.  He was waiting.

"Really?  Just the two of you?"  There was the curiosity and the doubt rolled into one. 

But what happened next surprised Nick, just not quite as much as it did Sara.

"Nick and I are dating.  The whole lab knows and they've been gossiping about it for weeks...surely you know?"  Grissom hadn't looked at Sara and still had his head buried in his menu.

"The lab knows...  Oh..."  Nick watched her and she was staring at nothing in the distance.  "I don't pay any attention to office gossip."

"It's not gossip, actually, it's true."  Grissom confirmed.  "As much as it pains me, I'm going to have the healthy option, what about you two?"  He looked up and smiled across at Nick.

"Just an omelette with grilled tomatoes, I think."

"I'll go."  Sara went to stand up.

"Why?  I thought you wanted breakfast?"

"I don't want to play the third wheel."

"Of course you're not the third wheel...we're colleagues and we've been to breakfast together many, many, times."

"Not knowing you were a couple."  She sounded very bitter; she'd recovered from her initial shock.  "How long?  How long have you been together?"

"Not long."  Gil said.

"We broke up, but got back together a few weeks ago."  Nick decided to embellish the truth a little.

Sara nodded.  "I'll go.  See you at work Grissom.  Nick."  She got up and walked away.

"She didn't know; you were right."  Gil acknowledged Nick's assertion about Sara.

"One thing about Sara is that she never gossips or listens to what people have to say.  It makes he look like Miss Goody-Two-Shoes but really it's only because she's too self-absorbed to care about anyone else but herself and her life and her feelings and what she thinks.  And she's been carrying a crush for you since the day she arrived from Frisco'."  Gil must have looked shocked because Nick spoke again.  "Don't tell me you didn't know?"

"I didn't know."

"You know sometimes I don't know whether your cluelessness is endearing or worrying."

Gil smiled.  "I'll take endearing.  But, you see, I tend to think that other people are as straightforward as me..."  He stopped and looked hurt as Nick burst out laughing.  "...you don't think I am straightforward?"

"No.  I don't.   But I do can see why you think you are."

"How does that work?"

"Because you try be to logical and methodical about your work and your life...well maybe your work is based on logic and method but how do you then explain, say, when a child is murdered...you can logically assess the crime and methodically work through the evidence, but you can never explain the murder or the murderer as either logical or methodical? 

"But your private life is a contradiction of your work ethic.  It was neither logical nor methodical for you to have me when I was drunk...but you made an exception because you wanted me...you lusted after me, but couldn't tell me.  In the end I came after you."  Gil looked perplexed and Nick continued.  "Maybe I'm not explaining it well enough."  He sat back in the booth.

Gil looked at him.  "You explained it very well, choosing two examples that expose me as a hypocrite..."

"...you're not a hypocrite..."

"Have you two made your minds up yet?"  The waitress was back.  "Will the lady be back?"

"No..."  Nick answered her question and then they both ordered their breakfast.

When she'd gone Gil continued.  "I am a hypocrite."  He voice dropped to a whisper and leaned forward towards Nick.  "What I did...seducing you when you were drunk..."

"Man!  You couldn't have seduced me drunk or sober if I hadn't wanted it.  You know that."

"Maybe.   But it was tantamount to rape."

"Bullshit.  I sent out the signals loud and clear and you picked them up...it was mutual so don't knock yourself out over that."

Gil shrugged and looked miserable.  "And a child's murder.  I try to be dispassionate but it's impossible.   I suppose sometimes I can see why murders have been committed...but a child.  A child?  I could kill someone myself, you know, when I confront a child murderer..."

"...I think we all could, you're not alone in that.  But you...preach continually about the evidence and mostly ignore the whys and wherefores and yet all that is forgotten when something really riles you."

"I'm not perfect, Nick. Nowhere near."

"Hey, Gil?  To me, you are."  Nick had leaned over the table to meet Gil eyes and he, too, dropped his voice to a whisper.

Gil smiled.  "What were you going to say to Sara?"

"I don't know; that we were moving in together...something like that."

"That would be good."

"What telling her that?"

"No, moving in together."  Nick looked shocked.

"Really?"

"Really.  Save us having to meet up all over the place and having to go back to each other's place.  I thought you could move in with me...see how it goes."

"Rent my place out?"

"You could do...short term...just in case it didn't work out."  But he smiled as he said it.

"Yeah.  Yeah."

"Give it some thought anyway."

"I will."  He grinned knowing that his mind was already made up.  "So how come you changed your mind and told her?"

Gil chuckled this time.  "Two reasons.  Firstly, I was...apprehensive...about what, exactly, you intended to tell her and secondly, I resented the fact that you said I had no balls."

Nick grinned.  "I know you've got balls man, I've sucked them enough."

Gil groaned.  "Not in here, please..."

ooOoo

A few weeks later they were in their bed in Gil's home about to drop off to sleep.  They had the same rest days off from work.

"You know what, babe?"  Nick whispered.

"What's that?"  He murmured, more than half asleep.

"I feel like I'm on the top of my game.  I've finally grown up...no one and nothing will ever bother me again..."

ooOoo

In a disused warehouse on the other side of town a man consumed with grief and hell-bent on revenge, was digging a hole in the floor of the building...he was experimenting with a Perspex box and a dog...

The End

***