Title: I Get Weak
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ryan Wolfe
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Ryan Wolfe, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Ryan sat at the kitchen table, stirring milk and sugar into his coffee. He and Greg woiuld have to leave for work on the CSI night shift in about half an hour's time, but for the moment, he was feeling comfortable and relaxed, waiting for his boyfriend to get dressed.

They had developed a routine on the nights they had to work; they would go to breakfast in the morning, or come home and do their own cooking, then walk Wolfie and spend the day together. They would usually go to bed in the late afternoon, and sleep during the evening.

This coming weekened, he would be moving into his own apartment next door, and they would go shopping for some of the furniture that he would need. Ryan was actually looking forward to picking out the bed that they would sleep in when they slept at his place.

A lot of his belongings had already been taken out of storage, and were now crowded into the second bedroom at Greg's place. He hadn't wanted to leave his stereo, television, and other electronic equipment in storage for too long, even though they weren't using them.

Ryan still felt ambivalent about moving into his own place, even though it was just next door. He had gotten used to this apartment; he felt as though he belonged here. It was his home, and getting used to another place was going to take a while.

But he couldn't keep living here indefinitely, or Ecklie -- and probably others in the crime lab -- would start to think that something was going on between them. There was, of course, but their colleagues didn't have to be privy to that information.

Nobody seemed to have a clue yet as to the fact that they were a couple -- other than Nick, who seemed to notice everything. But everyone else was blissfully ignorant of their relationship; Ryan wasn't surprised, as he knew that people usually weren't interested in looking too closely.

Besides, Greg's act of being interested in women all the time had put everyone off the trail. Ryan didn't particularly like that act, because it only encouraged women like that Brody slut, but he trusted Greg to be able to hold off people who took it seriously.

Ryan glanced over at his boyfriend's coffee cup, wondering what was taking Greg so long to get dressed. He himself was already dressed and ready to go, but he'd taken a shower first this morning. Still, Greg always seemed to take longer than he did to dress for work.

"Hey, babe. Thanks for making coffee." Greg's voice from the doorway made Ryan look around; his breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of his boyfriend, his dark eyes widening. He had to put down his full cup of coffee; if he hadn't, the hot liquid might have ended up in his lap.

How could anyone make tight black pants and a black v-necked sweater look so incredible? There was nothing remarkable about the clothes themselves -- but the way that Greg wore them, they way they clung to his slim body, made Ryan's pulse race.

What he really wanted to do was forget about working, take Greg back to the bedroom, and peel those clothes off his body. He wanted to lay his boyfriend down on the bed and kiss him all over, then prepare Greg with his fingers and slide inside him, slowly, gently ....

Ryan shook his head, blinking rapidly to dispel the image of himself making love to Greg. They had to go to work tonight, he reminded himself sternly. Best to keep those ideas out of his mind -- especially since they probably wouldn't be happening for a while yet to come.

It was a good thing he was sitting down; if he had been standing up, he was sure that he would have had to grab the counter to keep himself upright. His knees had gone weak and watery at the sight of Greg; how was it that this man could always affect him in such a way?

"What's wrong?" Greg asked him, frowning as he sat down at the table next to Ryan. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Is there something wrong with the way I'm dressed?" He looked down at himself as he reached for his coffee mug, the frown deepening.

Ryan shook his head, smiling as he did so. "No, baby, you look terrific," he murmured, wanting to tell Greg everything that was in his heart, holding nothing back. "You don't know how good you look to me when you're dressed like that. I get weak just looking at you."

He couldn't take his eyes off Greg; the v-neck of the sweater he was wearing exposed just enough of his soft skin for Ryan to think of how it felt to touch that glowing flesh; his gaze rested on the tender hollow at the base of Greg's throat, wanting to lean forward and press his lips there.

It was going to be hard to work with Greg today without wanting to sweep his boyfriend into his arms and kiss him breathless; Ryan hoped that wherever they happened to be working, there would be a mens' room around that they could slip into for a few moments.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to get through the day without kissing and touching Greg at some points. He wouldn't be satisfied with cuddling for a few minutes before they left the apartment; he would need to touch Greg now and then.

"I get weak just thinking about you," Greg said softly, bringing Ryan out of his daydreams and back into reality. "All I have to do is close my eyes and picture you -- and I feel like I'm kind of melting into a big puddle of goo on the floor. You do that to me."

"Are you sure there's enough of you to melt into a big puddle of goo?" Ryan asked, blushing a little at his boyfriend's compliment. "I think it'd be a pretty small puddle. And then I'd have to cry and be sad because I was in love with a puddle of goo."

Greg's laugh rang out in the quiet air of the room; Ryan couldn't help but laugh right along with him. There was something infectious about Greg's laugh, and his smile. All it took was seeing that smile, hearing that laughter, and Ryan's day was suddenly much brighter.

"I think all you'd have to do was touch that puddle of goo, and all the molecules would resolve themselves again," Ryan told him with a laugh. "After all, I'd have to be in this body for you to be with me, so I'd get back to it as soon as I could."

Just being with Greg could make him feel weak with desire sometimes. Looking at the man he was with, knowing that Greg loved him and wanted to be with him for the rest of their lives and beyond -- that was enough to take his breath away.

How had he gotten so lucky? How was it that he, Ryan Wolfe, had managed to capture the heart of a man as incredible as Greg Sanders? It didn't seem possible sometimes that he could have had such a stroke of good fortune; it was as if the universe was constantly smiling down on him.

Ryan lounged back in his chair, looking at Greg, taking in the other man's face and form. Greg was the most beautiful man he'd ever seen; even when he wasn't dressed to kill as he was now, and was wearing nothing mroe exotic than a t-shirt and jeans, he made Ryan's knees weak.

"Do you know what you do to me when you look like that?" he asked softly, his gaze focused on Greg's face. "I get weak in the knees. My heart starts pounding about ten times faster than normal, and I can't think about anything other than making love to you."

Greg looked down, a pink flush coming into his cheeks. "I don't look that good," he protested, his voice low and husky. "And you do the same thing to me, y'know. I get weak every time you smile at me. Sometimes I feel like if I don't sit down, I'll fall down."

Ryan stood up, reaching for Greg's hand and tugging the other man to his feet, as well. Within seconds, Greg was in his arms, their lips meeting, their hands moving over each other's bodies. Ryan almost moaned aloud at the feel of Greg's touch on his skin.

His hands moved under Greg's sweater, up the other man's back, then down again to cup Greg's firm, rounded ass cheeks and mold his boyfriend's body close against his. This was how he always wanted to be with Greg, he thought dazedly. Close, hot, body to body.

But they couldn't go that route now, he thought with a sigh. They had to go to work; they would have to leave in a little more than five minutes to get there on time. The last thing he wanted to do was spend the rest of the night working, rather than be with his boyfriend.

He would be with his boyfriend, a voice in the back of his mind piped up. Wasn't he Greg's parther, at work as well as in life? Didn't they work together, staying by each other's sides constantly, watching each other's backs? He was with Greg all the time.

"Come on," Greg told him, reluctantly breaking away from their embrace and glancing up at the clock on the kitchen wall. "We've got to get going if we want to clock in on time. And if that keeps on, I'll be too weak in the knees to even think about getting anything done tonight."

Ryan couldn't help but laugh at those words; he felt the same way himself. He followed Greg out of the kitchen and to the front door, still wishing that they could spend the night together here at home -- but glad that since he had to go to work, he would have the man he loved with him.

***