Title: Music of Love II
Author: Esynnaj
Challenge: Submitted by Stacy L.A. Stronach - Warrick is a musician whose music/words/voice brings him and Gil together. I have an image in my head of Warrick playing piano/singing in a smoky night club with Gil in the audience. And thank you, jdavidson, for the idea to do Music of Love II from Warrick's POV. As you can see, I liked it a lot.
Email: Vebesahshalarc@sbcglobal.com
Disclaimers: no ownership rights and no money made
Pairing: Warrick/Grissom
Rating: FRAO
Summary: Warrick finds the jazzy beat of his heart perfectly matches the classic beat of another.

MUSIC OF LOVE II

I don't know if you wanna call it love at first sight, but I do know from the moment I really looked at Gil, from the very first moment he spoke to me, something in me became convinced I wanted my entire universe to revolve around this one man. It became so damn obvious it was important for him to become permanent in my world that I never had the slightest doubt afterward I had to and would have him.

In the very beginning, it wasn't that big of a deal. Gil was on the UNLV campus as the speaker of a forensic workshop that tied in with an organic chemistry class I was taking. The professor who had invited him was offering a full credit to everyone attending the workshop that wrote a satisfactory, highly detailed research paper at least 15 pages in length on what they learned. Since Aunt Bertha's husband had gotten me interested in forensic technology and I'd been increasing my knowledge on my own via books he'd given me and the Internet, I figured why the hell not? This would be an easy A, a shoo-in for a good grade.

But I got there about 20 minutes after Gil was already deep into his routine. After I got outa class, I waited up for Franklin who'd said he wanted to go with me because he needed that credit too. While we took off at a dead run, I was cussing him out good for making us late but we were laughing by the time we got there. My temper flares way too quick but I've never been able to stay angry to save my life. Anger dies on me almost as soon as it ignites. The only times it might stick around is when some ignorant asshole hurts somebody I care about. Then I get hot. I can get a mad on and keep it going long as it takes to bring that particular asshole down, right or wrong, which has sometimes gotten me into trouble that Grissom's had to get me out of, for which I'm eternally thankful.

Anyway, when me and Franklin were trying to get to a couple of seats in the auditorium, excusing ourselves to everybody we were stepping over, this voice laced with steel whips out at us saying, "To the two young men up there causing such a disturbance, I'm quite certain both of you were aware of the time this workshop began. Why are you so late?"

For a second, I felt that familiar heat behind my eyes denoting a self-righteous indignation about to come down on me and glared toward the podium. I could feel every eye in that place turning to look at us, making me and Franklin the center of a humiliating attention, and wasn't about to let no bureaucratic white man thinking his badge made him more important than I was get away with embarrassing me. But when I turned to look into a piercing set of sky blue eyes that burned their way into my heart and stilled my soul from the second they met my own, all that happened was this unsettling meekness came down on me. It was like when I had been a kid, done something wrong and run from my grandmother, being a smart aleck and knowing she'd never been able to catch me. She'd skid to a dead stop and, with this voice borrowed from God, yell for me to come the hell back. With me having no place to go but back home, I had been intelligent enough to turn right around and go to her to take my licking.

With Grissom's eyes on me, I felt almost the same way as when Grams slashed out at me and absolutely forget the heated words I had been about to say. Instead I found myself saying, "We're sorry, sir. We just now finished our last class. It was all the way across campus and we got here soon as we could. We apologize for interrupting you."

Franklin, knowing that wasn't how I usually handled myself, looked at me like I had gone nuts. I was wondering what the hell was wrong with me myself, cause I was having all kinds of trouble breathing all of a sudden and had this weird urge to run down to that podium to see if this guy's eyes were as blue as they seemed to be. But I made myself sit down and try to listen to what he had to say with all kinds of confusion filling my head.

He knew his shit. I had to give 'em that. He got it across in a clear, concise and interesting way. Pretty soon, I was paying close attention, hearing what he had to say as well as visually checking him out while wanting to learn more from him. He was real good looking, one of those smooth, soft spoken, self-confident, intelligent older guys with silvery hair who always seem like they'd got themselves together years ago and could teach a young guy like me who was still floundering around a thing or two. I kept watching him while he delivered his presentation; liking the hell out of what I saw, and had this strange feeling he was watching me back, which was nonsense. Experienced speakers like him let their eyes rove over the whole crowd they're addressing and it was probably my overblown ego making me think he was picking me out special.

After a question and answer period at the end of his workshop, Gil invited us onto the stage and, still hoping to get a closer look at his eyes, I was one of the first to take him up on that invitation. But I didn't get that look right away when too many of the other students crowded around him asking questions. So I started wandering around the stage taking a look at some of the forensic equipment he had brought with him with Franklin getting on my last nerve by following me around, whining about how he was ready to go.

I was seriously getting into my inspection when Gil was so suddenly right by my elbow, it made me jump as he asked, "Do you know what that is?"

Trying to conceal the fact his coming up behind me like that had startled the shit outa me, I grinned and told him, "It's an electrostatic imaging system to identify indented writing on documents." Then I added, just to get his goat, "Didn't think I'd know, did cha?"

Franklin was rolling his eyes, knowing I was about to get off into a conversation in which he'd have no interest. We had a date to do what he called "trolling," which was basically gettin' dressed up to hunt up college girls or go down on the Strip to find willing ladies to take to a local motel for a one night stand. But suddenly, I wasn't into it anymore. It was something else I wanted. So I sent Franklin on his way.

I put out a big effort to make Gil think I knew what I was talking about and I really did. What I knew I had learned from Uncle Robert who's not related but really just a friend of the family. He'd been good to me and Gram over the years and was the closest thing to a righteous father figure I ever had. He's also an LVPD detective and Uncle Robert going upside my head and talking to me until he was blue in the face whenever I needed it, along with him getting fellow department buddies, such as Jim Brass, to watch out for me was all that kept me as close to the straight and narrow as I stayed. The point is, he taught me a lot about what he does and I used what he'd taught me to show off for Gil. My bullshit impressed him enough that he invited me to come the next evening for a guided tour of the department's forensic lab and I jumped at the chance, thinking that would also give me a chance to jump his bones as well. Hey, the man was hot and it hadn't once occurred to me I shouldn't at least give it a try.

But he was so professional and such a gentleman when I got there the next day that I cooled my jets and just followed him around like the good little student seriously paying attention to the teacher. That was easy to do. Gris was into what he was doing. The man really loves his work and it shows. He glows when he talks about it. He forgot all about me while he was he was explaining procedures and techniques to me, so beautifully breaking the shit down from intricate technicalities until I got into it heavily that hours had passed with it seeming like only ten or fifteen minutes had gone by. We were getting on so good by then I could sense he was as reluctant for me to leave as I was reluctant to take off. Something in me wanted to touch him so bad, just reach up under his clothes and rub on him awhile, I felt like I was suffocating. I wanted to rip my clothes off, I was so hot. The fact that I was forgetting all the conversation we were having as soon as we had it and was starting to want to rip HIS clothes meant I was starting to lose it, so it was really time to leave whether I wanted to or not.

As he walked me to the door, I looked at him and he must've known exactly what I was thinking from the gleam in my eye because he turned beet red and started to look real uncomfortable. But I liked that look on him. I liked it a lot. It was sweet and uncertain, the first time he had been anything less than sure of himself. He was giving out vibes he didn't even seem to be aware of himself and I was into those vibes. Very softly, I told 'em not to work too hard after I'd wished him goodnight. Then I left. But as I did, it occurred to me my subconscious was already making plans for that man. What I had to do was work out what those plans were gonna be. This was a guy who had to be handled with kid gloves.

I had this feeling if you came at him too fast and hard, you'd scare him off, that he had a tough turtle shell he'd duck into and shut tight. Gil had his professional game down. He was quick and sure of himself. I wanted him to mentor me in that, as well as in that cool I saw in how he worked his co-workers and bosses. But the whole time I was with him, he had this way of making unconsciously clear he had kept things between us carefully impersonal. Way too carefully impersonal, in fact. He had been too careful not to touch me, been much too careful not let anything slip that might lead to any familiar conversation. That got me to thinking there had to be a reason behind him doing that. I wanted to know why he hadn't let me tell him anything real about myself or let me know anything real about him. I wanted to get him to a place where he'd be more comfortable opening up to me. And I guessed that couldn't be in the lab.

So, a couple of nights later, on a spur of the moment, although I had been thinking about it ever since I had left him, I called him while I was cooling out at an after hours joint with Lolita and asked him to come to a club where I'd be jamming with a band on Friday. It shocked the hell outa me when he didn't hesitate but actually said yes. I looked over to see Lolita's eyes on me, staring bloody daggers right through my heart, sighed when she stalked over to sit right down on my lap, facing and straddling me while she snapped, "Please don't tell me that was your Dr. Grissom you just called."

I sighed again, deep and loud. "Yeah... It was."

"You wanna tell me why?"

"Not really, but I invited him to come down to the Vanity Fair this weekend."

She stared at me a long time before saying, giving my chest a sharp, hard punch with each word, "You DO know you are about to mess up our very good thing, don't you?"

"Lola, I'm not meaning to. It's just that... I've got to make a change. I'm almost thirty and I can't keep drifting around like I've been doing. I'm gettin' too old to keep ridin' the glory train. I've got to get some direction to my life before it's too late. I keep going like this, next thing you know I'll be fifty and hangin' out on some street corner with a bottle in my hand or a needle in my arm and I'm not up for that."

"Finding a way from that means kicking me outa your life, doesn't it?"

"No," I said softly and sadly. "Finding a way from that means finding a different style of life and you're not ready for that. You love the life you live and that's not the life I can live anymore. What I mean is you've got to find somebody who does want that life and that can't be me anymore. I've been trying to say that for months, but you haven't been listening."

Again, she stared at me a long time. Then, she softened with sparkling tears that never fell coming into her eyes. "I know," she whispered. "I was listening. I just didn't wanna hear it and thought if I pretended I didn't, you'd stop saying it. But you got this look in your eye right now that says you really mean it this time." She sighed now and said, "Well. If I can't have you for my man, then I'm still gonna have you for my friend. Exactly what's this Dr. Grissom gonna be to you, your friend, you boss, your lover, your sugar daddy or what?" I didn't say anything, just gave her a slow smile and tilted my head up at her. She grinned back then laughed and slapped me lightly. "Oh, you don't know yet, do you? It's going to depend on him, isn't it? Well, I'm going to be at the Vanity Fair on Friday, I'll tell you that. I've got to meet this Dr. Grissom to get a heads up on 'em for myself. Cause, if I can't have you, I sure as hell am not about to let anybody else have you if he or she's not good enough for ya. The one who finally gets you has got to be worthy."

I got to the club at eight to help set up and was on pin and needles, sweating bullets by five after nine, thinking Gil wasn't going to show. When he actually walked through the door at nine fifteen while the band was playing, I almost passed out from sheer relief. He was dressed casually in soft dark gray trousers paired with a gray jacket and pale blue shirt and the combination was giving his hair a shimmering, silvery glow highlighting the cerulean blue eyes. Nobody in the entire place looked as classy as he did and he wasn't even conscious of all eyes turning to check him out, up and down, as he came in.

After I got to know him, I would learn how unaware Gil is of his own attractiveness. While he'll go on and on about how handsome he thinks I am, he misses entirely how good-looking he, thinks he's old, fat and grouchy when he's nothing of the kind. Well, maybe grouchy, yeah. But the other stuff? Uh-uh.

He peered about, obviously uncomfortable with coming into a venue that he was unfamiliar with, but Lolita saved the day by taking his arm and guiding him to the table I had reserved for him. She got him a drink, then kept him company awhile. I was busting a nut with curiosity to know what they were talking about and hoped she wasn't scaring the man half to death. She could do that. She's known for doing that. That lady has claws that can rip the skin off and the soul out of a man. But she must not have stayed at his table long, because soon I looked over and Gil was sitting alone. And he didn't look like she had clawed him up too badly, in fact had this relaxed and bemused look on his face after Lolita's departure.

I took as many opportunities as I dared to look at him but got rattled if he was looking back, which he would be too often and that made me miss notes. I tried to cover whenever I did that but one of the guys in the band with a male undercover lover of his own living at home, so was hip to what was going on, would crack up every time I made a mistake, much to my exasperation. That was what finally made me quit glancing over at Gil and keep my mind on business until the end of the first set.

When the band came off the stage to take a breather, I brought them over to introduce them to Gil. Like the gentleman he is, he graciously stood up to shake hands around, studiously frowning and nodding as he tried to recall and say everyone's names. They all inquisitively returned his greeting, trying to ascertain exactly what his relationship was to me, since he was not the usually type of person I hung out with. I figured it wasn't any of their goddamn business so didn't say anything that relieved their curiosity, just sat down with Gil while they went to the bar to get a drink and take it out back to grab a quick toke on a blunt before beginning the next set, which was the usual routine.

I was attempting to make civilized conversation with him when I noticed he wasn't hearing a word I was saying but instead was leaning closer and closer to me, sniffing me with his eyes closed. I grinned and could have laughed from joy because I swear I didn't want him to stop and was getting some kind of wild stirring between my legs just from him getting that close to me. I kept right on talking so he would keep on closing in, was disappointed when he finally realized what he was doing and suddenly straightened up and, turning red, mumbled, "Pardon me?"

To prevent him from being embarrassed and distract him from thinking about had just happened, I put the discussion on an ordinary plane, asking, "How'd you like the music, Dr. Grissom?"

I forget all of what he said except it had something to do with him not know much about jazz and listening to the classics. I was too busy looking at him and liking very much what I was looking at. My head was coming up with more plans and figuring out some way to keep him here until I could put those plans into actions. Jake, one of the guys in the bands interrupted us to let me know, covertly, it was my last chance to grab a hit on one of the blunts they had out back before the band hit the stage for our last set. So I got up and said to Gil, "We've got another set to do. Hope you're not too bored and will stick around for it. I'd really like to see you afterward."

I was afraid he wouldn't stay, but he did. I usually stay around and help clean up, but not that night. I said my goodbyes to everybody, even my permanent ones to Lola as a lover. But she's my friend for life. That girl was good for me, in bed and out, and she taught me shit that I'll never forget. Believe it or not, some of what she showed me sexually, I've even taught Gil. She brought a male friend to our bed who did this certain wild thing with me while she laid back, smiling and watching, that was the first thing I did with him while we were together, in fact.

After we left the club, we stopped at an all night store to get some liquor them went to Gil's place since he didn't seem to care for the idea of going to mine. That didn't bother me. It was his comfort level that was most important. I'm able to get comfortable wherever I'm at. That's just the way I am. The only awkward moment came at a point when he looked in my eyes and noticed my pupils were dilated and corrected assumed I was high. As this registered way up on Gil's disapproval meter, this meant any drug use was out of the question in the future if I meant to be part of his life. This may surprise you, but that also didn't bother me. If not using drugs had to be part of my lifestyle change, then so be it. It just was not that big of deal. He was already the bigger deal.

Even at his own place, he was anxious with me being there. I just went with that, acting like I didn't notice him walking all around, chattering nervously and just talked to ease him down while I was in his kitchen, mixing drinks with his blender. I didn't ask him where anything was, just looked around until I found what I needed. Then I brought the two pitchers into his living room and sat with him on his couch that was really the size of a love seat which suited me just right. It was small and Gil couldn't've gotten away from me if he'd tried.

I've had a lot of jobs in my time, among them bartender. I was a helluva good one if I do say so myself and had mixed two of the stronger drinks for him and me. I told him the one I had just poured him was a Long Island Iced Tea, which packs a deceptive punch. Soon as he started up, just how he was sipping at it, I could tell he wasn't a real drinker. He was feeling it before he was even finished with it. Then he asked for a taste of the one I was having. I grinned and obliged him, knowing mixing different drinks was the last thing I should be letting him do, particularly in consideration of the fact he was not a big drinker. But since he was at home, he was safe. I sure wasn't going to let anything bad happen to him.

"Hm," he said, licking his lips as he finished it off. "That was good. What was it?"

I grinned. "It's called a Fruity Fuck."

Already looking a little unfocused, Gil ran his fingers over his face and asked confusedly, "A what?"

"It's called a Fruity Fuck. Honest. No lie. It's got vodka, melon and passion fruit liqueur, orange, lime and pineapple juice and mint in it."

"Oh." He gravely considered that then said, "It's very good. I'd like to have another."

"Uh-uh. I don't think that'd be a good idea."

"No? I thought the objective here was to get me drunk."

"Not really. The objective's to get you relaxed, not drunk. You don't look to be much of a drinker and that's where three of these kinda drinks would take you. Don't want you drunk, Dr. Grissom. That'd slow you down or put you to sleep. Slowing you down or putting you to sleep's the last place I want you to go."

Gil yawned and peered at me blearily then asked, "Oh really? If it's not to sleep, where it is that you do want me to go?"

I grinned even more. He'd just asked the million dollar question. "Dr. Grissom," I said, reaching for him, "Com'mon over here, cause that's exactly what I'm about to show you." I moved in and kept moving in. I couldn't take the slightest chance on giving him any opportunity to start thinking since he was a thinking man and might back all the way into that shell of his if we paused even for a second. I moved easy but kept the pressure up, kissing him soft but deep, not getting too deep into what I was doing so I could always watch to see what pleased him and what didn't. The last thing I wanted to do was get so self involved that I forgot myself and did something that might scare him off.

I needn't have worried. He'd gotten enough of the alcohol into his system to round out his sensibilities. While I was talking to him, the whole time I had been stroking and kissing him, gently taking his clothes off him, he was doing the same to me quicker than I had been doing it to him, busily pushing me all kinds of ways until he had stripped me clean of every stitch I had on. Then he leaned back to look me over like a voyeur for a few minutes without touching me before closing in quick to start examining me like I was some specimen under a microscope or something. That was cool for awhile but fast got to be too much for me, was clearly getting to be too much for him. The man looked like he was going to fire a load without me getting a chance to show him what I could really do for him and I wasn't about to let that happen. That meant I had to take over again.

"Hey, Dr. Grissom," I told him. "I wanna show ya something. Get up on your knees facing me."

I brought him in real close, splitting our knees so one of mine was between his, one of his was between mine, stroking up and down his spine to keep him calm. Still talking to him quietly and fondly all the time like I'd been doing, I lifted his cock in my hand, liking the heavy weight of it. I played with it awhile and rolled it around in my hand, pressed his head with my thumb, smiled as he jerked and shivered as I did that, moaning and panting, gripping my arms. Then I lifted my own cock up in my other hand and pushed my foreskin back, moved even closer to him on my knees. Biting my lower lip because I was a little nervous since I'd had done this several times with Joey, the guy Lola had brought over but never with anyone else, I pulled my foreskin forward 'til it covered the head of Gil's circumcised cock and joined the two of us together. After this, holding us as one with a hand on my shaft and my other on Gil's, I gently circled our moistened penis heads against the other inside my foreskin while pushing and pulling the shafts back and forth.

Gil went nuts. He went absolutely nuts. It was amazing. He shot all over both of us and shot so hard, it actually stung me where it hit my body. He went off four or five different times and every time was as strong as the one before. He started hissing through his teeth with his fingernails curving and cutting into my arms and I thought he'd never stop ejaculating. It was so much, I was afraid he'd end up dehydrated if he didn't quit pretty soon. Finally, he did though and toppled over on me, panting hard, demanding, "Jesus Christ, what WAS that?"

I told him, cradling him in my arms, "The guy who showed it to me how to do it him a few years ago me called it docking. It works best when one guy's been cut and the other one ain't."

"Yes. I can see that." Gil was still shaky, so kept leaning on me as he sat up, which I liked. As he got his breath back, he said, "Am I to assume by that reference, that you are at least bi-sexual, Warrick? I had been worried from meeting the very beautiful Ms. Avondale that your preference might be the female gender."

"Well, fact is, Dr. Grissom, I kinda maintain an open mind about most things. Helps to make sure I don't let good opportunities like you pass me by. C'mon. Where's your bathroom? Let's go get cleaned up."

But rather than answering my question, he touched my cock and said in this embarrassed like manner, "But, you haven't... It's not fair you've done for me what you just did, but you... that you haven't..."

I grinned. "Are you worried about that?" I asked softly. "What? Do you wanna watch me take care of that?"

For a second he looked like he was struggling with himself, like the correct thing for him to say was the last thing in the world he wanted to do, which was watch me get myself off. But what he eventually said was just a whispered, "Yes."

I had no problem with that. We didn't move from where we were while I did it. Right there with us still on our knees, I did it for him. I'd did circle jerk off with buddies when I was a kid and I did one with Gris on the first night we were together alone. I couldn't even see myself do it cause he put his head on my chest so he could watch me while I did what I was doing and that made it even better for me. He was so goddamn, muthafuckin' into it. It was like some scientific observation for him. He was checking out the evidence like he'd showed me how he did it when he was working. I came all over him the same way he'd cum all over me while he had his hands on my cock and balls so he could feel what was going on in 'em as I was having my orgasm. Then he held me during it and let me lean on him afterward until I got my strength back.

We showered together and slept together that night with Gris spooned in my arms until he fell asleep. I left before he woke up because I had this feeling he was the kinda guy who'd get up in the morning all panicked about what to say, make a big deal about everything and wouldn't know how to go with the flow.

Actually, I didn't really know what to do myself, because it was a big deal. It was a life changing thing. The sex, such as it was, had been good, but it was a minor matter. I was dreaming about Gil, which was weird enough. Even worse, I started having fantasies about him and that was SO not my style. That was humiliating. I was getting weird, having daydreams about him that had me zoning out around my friends so they kept pulling me back and asking me what in hell was wrong with me. I was waking up from wet dreams about him when I hadn't those since I had been thirteen years old, for crying out loud. He was wrecking the cool in me. It got so bad with me, I was trying not to think of the man any which way, was trying to put him totally out of my mind.

Only problem was, because of him, I'd put in an application with the Las Vegas police department. Much to my surprise, a few weeks later, I found out the fuckers had gone and accepted me. I had cleaned up some traffic tickets I had like Gil had suggested I do, paid 'em all off, and some good friends of Uncle Robert's, including Jim Brass, had given me glowing recommendations. The next thing I know, I'm attending the next academy that came up.

Naturally, Gil finds about this and one day when I'm sweaty and hot from a physical fitness run, he showed up on the field and comes on up to me as if we had seen each other yesterday instead of more than two months ago, sauntering over and smiling like he's this cat who's just had a bowl of the sweetest cream. He asks me, "Did you forget about me?"

Hell, no. I had been trying my very damndest to do just that, but no, I had not. I just said, "No sir, Dr. Grissom."

"Then why haven't I heard from you?"

"Just didn't want any conflict of interest thing goin' on. I thought it'd be better if I did this thing without your help, seeing as how I've got a personal interest in you and everything."

"Oh, I see. You've got a personal interest in me."

"Yes sir, I do."

"Then, may I ask if you're still playing at any clubs?"

"Yeah I am."

"Well, does your personal interest include you extending another invitation to me so I can come and hear you play again? I'd very much enjoy that. I'm off again this coming Saturday."

"I'll be playing at the Blue Town Underground on Saturday."

He cocked his head and said, "I'm not quite sure where that is but I would like to come."

I grinned. Alright, I thought, I give. This is a war I really don't want to win. "I can pick you up, if you want me to."

"What time?"

"I gotta be there by eight."

"If I'm ready by seven thirty, will be that satisfactory?"

"That'd be perfect."

"Then, I will be waiting. And, by the way Warrick, my name is Gil. It's time you start using it."

I widened my grin and drawled, "Yes sir, Dr. Grissom." He lifted an eyebrow at me for that and turned away. As he was leaving, I called out to him, "Oh, by the way, Gris, we spend the night at my place this time."

He stopped and turned around to look at me for a moment. Then he said, "Of course. I believe I might be able to manage that this time." Then, he left. We'd only seen each other three times over three days and only for a few minutes this last time. But it was more than enough for me to have to take stand still and deep breaths to calm myself down as I watched him walk away. Not even to this day do I know why Gil affects me like he does, but the mere sight, sound and smell of that man does things to my heart that makes it skip beats and turn flips that freaks me out even now.

Anyway, I did go pick him up so he could hear the band play that Saturday and he did spend the night at my place. We had a few drinks, which was his idea this time, and hit the sack quick, sex unquestionably being the name of the game. And that was all right with me. The sex was sweet with him, it was good. We never got into actual intercourse. It just didn't seem necessary. There were too many other ways just as intimate for us to get each other off. I let it go especially after he murmured, blushing like a virgin school girl when he thought I was about to go there, which I was, that penetration was precious and an ultimate act that should be reserved for lovers who were in a committed and monogamous relationship with each other. That scared the hell outa me at the same time it charmed the hell outa me. But both of us knew sex wasn't all we wanted from each other and neither one of us wanted that to be all of what we were about with each other. So I just said we'd save "that" for later and do other stuff that felt just as good.

And there was a lot of other stuff I knew how to do that did feel just as good. Old timers tell me that the best thing a good musician can learn how to do is breathe in everything he experiences, good and bad, through his pores and take it down deep. You have to pull it in until it saturates your soul then let it out through the sobbing sounds you make with your voice or instrument. Well, I'm adding one more way to how you can do that.

If you start off learning to play by ear, you develop a feel for the music that's different from learning it by formal lessons and reading notes. You're immersed in the sounds right off the bat. You can never hear individual notes. You just catch the major or minor key being used, get the gist of how it'll roll, whether it'll rock, be jazzy, bluesy, gospel centric and run with it. That's how you do that. You can do it like that while you're making love to somebody whose rhythm matches your own and Grissom's matched mine right from the beginning.

We were so in tune, real soon neither of us had to verbalize what we wanted. Real quick, I figured out we could tell what pleased the other just from touch. Gil isn't and never has been into talking much or making a lot of noise during sex, but he possesses the most erogenous zones of anyone I've ever been with and is the most responsive lover I've ever had. You stroke him at the right time in the right way behind his knees, under his arms, anywhere on his spine or inner thighs, nibble any place on his torso, especially near a nipple or his navel, and he's gone. By the same token, Gil found out fast all he had to do to me was flick a tongue into either of my ears, bite light on the lobs, gnaw on my neck for a minute, knead my ass awhile so my toes would curl up and I'd be equally gone. Do any of those things to either of us for long enough of a time, then all you'd have to do is jerk us off once or twice and both of us would cum like a muthafuckin' fire hydrant. We figured all that out over that first weekend we spent together.

I kept everything easy for him while he was with me, but also hot and juicy. Every once in awhile, the jitters would set in on him and I'd have to draw him back to me, but using calming words and sexual distractions worked on him pretty well. I kept the sexiest music I had going as a backdrop to what we doing, the beat always dark and dirty, gritty and thumping, something that had subliminal sweat and sex written all over it. I never let what he was thinking overtake what he was feeling, kept his physical senses occupied with what I was doing to him so his intellect had to take the night off. I made him hear me by asking him did he want me to do this, did he like it when I did that, told him to listen to wet and juicy sounds our bodies were making. I whispered at him to watch as I took his cock in hand to lick and suck and pull at it until he started pleading to be allowed to cum. After I'd given him the release he had been begging for, I took him in my arms and started voluptuously and leisurely deep kissing him while he was still dazed so he could get a taste himself from me. I was still doing that when he sighed, quiet like and fell asleep still in my arms and in my bed. It was the perfect ending to the perfect night.

I wanted him to wake up thinking the same thing. I wanted him to wake up thinking I was the best thing he'd run across since sliced bread. I wanted him to wake up believing he hadn't any choice about wanting to keep me around and would wanna tell the world about the man who was teaching him the power, the rhythm and the music of love. I wanted him to think, even if it wasn't completely the truth, that at least in his mind, I was really and truly just that good.

So I was already up when he awakened just a little past sunrise. I wasn't about to give him the chance to get into any morning after nervousness, have a what-am-I-still-doing here-and-how-do-I-get-away- from-him panic attack. Hovering over Gil, straddling his legs on my hands and knees, giving him my wickedest grin, I waited good 'til his eyes opened and he knew it was me and nobody else he was in bed with. As soon as I knew he was clear on that, I went down on him again, instantly taking him right down to the root. Twisting my head sideways, I tightened up, rode all the way up to the head of his cock then went all the way back down, giving him every bit of nibbling and tongue action as I had in me. He gave this strangled cry, hands scrabbling at the sheets on the bed, arched up into my mouth and that was it. That was all I needed, the lock was in. My intention was to blow his head clean off. Didn't want there to be any way he could put two coherent thoughts together after that. I didn't want him tripping off into any mind games where he'd end up intellectualizing himself right out the front door. This man was mine, all mine. I had to have him. I needed him. He needed me. I was good for him and would be good to him. He'd do the same for me and I was going to prove that to him in the best way I knew how.

It worked. He didn't go anywhere any time soon. That's kinda obvious, since we made it somehow so we later on got it together and are still together. But both of us knew we weren't having any big love thing at that time. Then, it was more of a lust, curiosity and infatuation thing. But it felt good and has gotten deeper and better as time went after we worked out some kinks that we had to get out of the relationship. It wasn't love then but it is now and I knew it was something real important right from the start. And, you know what? I think Gil did too.