In the dark

Summary: The powers out in Vegas, what are the boys to do?

Feedback: always much appreciated (kbfan@msn.com)

Archive: WWOMB, Deep End, others please let me know first, thanks

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, except maybe my cat, but that's questionable too. I don't have any money now and I'm not making anything off this either. All rights to these characters belong to the creators and producers of CSI

Nick was in the spare room; he had pushed aside all of Greg's strewn about papers and magazines so he would have a little space to work on the scarred wooden desk. He flipped open the laptop and logged onto to his internet account. While he waited for the pages to load, he looked around the cluttered area amused by the seemingly organized disorganization. The entire left side of the room was stacked high with crates holding the immaculately preserved copies of a myriad of comic books Greg had been collecting since he was a kid and next to them were floor to ceiling bookshelves that overflowed with scientific and chemistry texts and journals. Nick wasn't sure how the lab tech was able to find anything in that mess, but he grinned as he pictured Greg rooting through the books looking for just the right one.

The laptop pinged, letting him know it was connected and he turned back to his work. Nick had the next night off and he had promised Grissom he would email the rest of the report on the case he had worked the night before. He reached down into his duffel and pulled out the copies of the files he had brought with him and as he looked back up towards the screen the window above the desk rattled ominously. Nick peered over the computer at the rapidly darkening sky; the weatherman had been calling for a wind storm and it seemed that for once the forecaster may have gotten it right. The trees outside of Greg's building whipped wildly as a gust blew through
them, the limbs appearing to bow under the pressure.

Nick blinked and refocused his attention on the thick case file as he began to type up the report. No matter how long Nick had been using a keyboard, his typing skills never seemed to improve and he pecked at the keys with his index fingers. He tuned out the sound of Greg intermittently hollering at the television every few minutes from the other room and concentrated on his work.

Twenty minutes later, the howling wind reached a crescendo and the power flickered off within the apartment.

"Fucking Nevada Power!" Greg yelled, and Nick could hear him toss the SEGA controller across the room. Next thing he knew, he heard Greg stumbling in the darkness toward the spare room.

"Nick," Greg called as something heavy clattered to the floor. "Shit!"

Nick chuckled softly as the younger man limped into the doorway.

"Don't laugh at me, asshole," Greg chided as he walked gingerly toward Nick. "That stupid piece of pottery my sister gave me fell on my foot, I think it might be broken..." he groaned.

"Let me see, Hop-a-long," Nick joked as Greg slid himself up onto the desk.

Greg swatted him upside the head as he raised his foot into Nick's lap. The older man gently lifted it, so that he could examine it by the wan light emanating from the computer screen.

"The damn power had to go out just as I was getting to the end of a mission in `Vice City' and I didn't get to save it. Ow!" Greg yelped as Nick's fingers found the spot where the heavy earthenware plate had apparently landed.

"Sorry," Nick replied as he carefully probed the bones around the injury.

Greg winced as Nick's hands slid along the tender extremity, but he continued his story.

"Now I'm probably going to have to go back to the beginning and start over, that's what happened the last time the power went out here and I was playing something, whatever happened erased all the saved games."

"Awww, poor baby." Nick smirked as he looked up into Greg's shadowy face. "Well, that's too bad, but I can assure you that nothing's broken here," he whispered as he ran his hand along the smooth skin of Greg's instep; almost inaudibly, Greg sighed at the light touch.

Softly, Greg slid his foot from Nick's grasp; he was careful to graze lightly across the other man's crotch as he let his feet dangle below him. Greg's actions were rewarded when Nick's eyes closed as a faint smile played at his lips. Greg scooted across the desk, his legs straddling Nick's body before he slipped into the older man's lap.

"So..." Greg whispered as he gently skimmed his fingers along Nick's shoulders before wrapping his arms around him. "What should we do now?" he asked, breathing airily, his mouth coming dangerously close to the other man's ear. "No lights..." Greg murmured as his tongue flicked out to touch Nick's earlobe. "No distractions..." his voice faded as he trailed feather-light kisses along the older man's chiseled jaw.

Nick gave himself over completely to the feel of the other man; long fingers lightly grazing along his nape, moist mouth covering his lips, threatening to steal his breath. Lips parted as tongues slid
together, battling and caressing in a sensual dance of desire. Their kisses were hungry, each man trying to devour the other. Greg's tongue traced Nick's lower lip, as they parted slightly, desperate
for air.

Greg began to lean in again, but Nick reluctantly stopped him by placing a hand on his chest; Nick wasn't sure he would be able to resist if they started up again.

"What?" Greg asked, his eyebrow raised in question.

"I still have to finish this report," Nick muttered unhappily as he reached around Greg and pulled the laptop into their line of vision.

"But, you don't have to do that...right...now..." Greg pouted, tracing Nick's kiss swollen lips with the pad of his thumb.

"Yeah, I really do," Nick remonstrated.

"Fine," Greg clumsily got to his feet. "I knew Grissom was more important than me. I'll just go amuse myself in the dark. Don't worry about the boyfriend, he can take care of himself." And with that Greg swept out of the room, leaving Nick staring idly at the muted light of the computer screen.

After a minute, Nick got up and moved carefully through the room toward the kitchen. He knew Greg kept some candles there and even with the glowing of the monitor, Nick knew he would need a little more illumination if he hoped to finish his work this afternoon. He could hear Greg rustling about in the bathroom, banging the medicine cabinet door closed before he walked out into the hallway. Nick pulled open the largest drawer and rummaged through the contents. Batteries...no. Duct tape...no. He pushed the items aside and was digging towards the bottom when he heard Greg clear his throat from behind him.

"I thought you had to work," Greg grouched.

"I'm looking for some candles," Nick answered, trying to suppress a grin as Greg stalked over to the counter.

"Move, move," Greg said, waving Nick aside with his hand. "I'll get them." He knocked some things from the drawer and they clattered to the floor; finally Greg pulled a couple of small candles out and dropped them onto the formica. "There ya go."

"Thanks," Nick said as he scooped the candles up and started out of the room.

"Hey, you might need these," Greg added as he tossed a box of matches in Nick's direction.

Nick neatly caught the small box in his right hand. "Look, Greg, I'm sor..."

Greg cut him off, "Yeah, yeah, I know Grissom's expecting the report. Like I said, don't worry about me. I'll find something to do."

Nick realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with Greg right now, so he gave up. He turned back towards the doorway and walked through the shadowy apartment back into the spare room. Nick set the candles on some coasters he found on the desk and settled back into the chair; he struck a match and lit both wicks before finally returning to the report that stared back at him from the screen.

Nick tried to concentrate on the facts of the case, but the flickering candlelight was distracting and he couldn't help but let his mind wander. He sat there, quiet for awhile, trying to hear Greg
in one of the other rooms of the apartment, but there was nothing. It seemed like only a few minutes ago that Nick had heard Greg foraging around for something to occupy himself, now there was only silence. Instead of enhancing Nick's focus on the report, the lack of noise puzzled him. Exasperated with his own lack of attention, he dropped the case file back into its folder and went to investigate.

Nick carefully picked up one of the candles and carried it with him as he moved into the hallway. He started toward the bedroom, but when he opened the door and walked over to the bed the only thing he saw in the wavering light were the rumpled sheets he and Greg had left when they had woken up earlier that day. The candlelight leading the way, Nick closed the door and peeked into the bathroom, again no one there. Although Greg had left a candle lit on the counter surrounding the sink. Following the unsteady glow, Nick crept toward the living room. As he neared the room, he saw the shimmering illumination of another candle.

Nick inhaled deeply at the sight that greeted him. Greg lay on the couch, his lean frame curled in upon itself, sleeping. The warm luminescence of the candlelight bathed him in muted light; the
younger man's features were lax in his slumber and the innocence of his face caused Nick's heart to skip a beat.

Quietly, Nick crossed the room and lowered himself down onto the carpet next to Greg. Gently, he ran his fingers through the younger man's tousled hair as he watched the steady rise and fall of Greg's chest. Nick's fingers continued their absent caresses as he savored the sight of the sleeping man. Tenderly, Nick ghosted his hand across Greg's cheek and the slight change of motion caused Greg to stir as Nick felt his eyelashes fluttering against the palm of his hand.

"Wha?" Greg mumbled.

"Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you," Nick whispered.

"Nicky? I thought you were working..."

"I was," Nick replied, looking into Greg's heavily lidded eyes.

"Done? Good, come lay with me," Greg murmured as he wriggled forward and made room for Nick on the pillowy cushions of the wide sofa. Drowsily, he patted the empty space behind him.

Nick smiled at Greg's invitation, standing, he deftly slid his body in behind Greg's and wrapped his arm around the younger man's waist. Greg repositioned his arm once Nick was settled and absently entwined his fingers with Nick's own hand.

"Sleep, Greggo," Nick murmured as he brushed a simple kiss across the nape of the young man's neck.

Grissom was going to give him hell for not sending the report in this afternoon, but right now Nick was willing to incur his wrath if it meant having his arms wrapped solidly around the one man Nick could always count on. He closed his eyes and nestled closer to Greg's warmth as he drifted off to sleep.