Title: One Too Many
By: it-glitters
Pairing: Greg/Nick
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: NC-17
Series: 1) Darkness Moves, 2) Perfect Deviant, 3) Public Displays, 4) Shared Toys, 5) Hands Tied, 6) Sheer Madness, 7) Manipulation, 8) Enough, 9) The Gospel According To Tony, 10) Whore, 11) Shut Up, 12) Just Don't, 13) Backwards, 14) Alone
Warnings: violence, rape/non-con, other pairings
Summary: Just when it's going all right, something always goes terribly wrong.

***

It wasn't as if Nick had wanted to go after he and Greg had made love in the shower, it was simply that swing shift started so much earlier than grave. Greg - satiated and sleepy, had crawled directly into bed.

"G, do you still have my old clothes that I left here?"

"Yeah," Greg mumbled back, lounging naked and damp in the messy bed. "They're right where you left them."

Nick went to the corner of the closet that Greg had allotted him so long ago and found a few shirts that he forgot he even owned. One of them caught his eye. The rest were pressed, just as he had left them, while this one was wrinkled and dirty. "Greg, what happened to this shirt?"

Greg sat up just long enough to see the shirt that Nick was holding. He blushed. "That one? ... Must have fallen."

"Greg..."

"I wear it sometimes," Greg admitted, obviously embarrassed at being caught.

Nick fingered the soft fabric gently. "Do you remember that old t-shirt you left at my house?" Greg nodded as Nick continued. "I hold it and think about you."

Nick heard Greg flop back onto the bed with a sigh. "I just wish everything was good between us."

"I like that you said good between and not like it was."

"It was good sometimes."

"Absolutely."

Nick finished getting dressed and walked over to the bed and kissed Greg gently on the forehead. "I'm setting the alarm for you. I'll see you at work." Nick watched as Greg curled into the covers and fell asleep.

....

Nick did see Greg at work – but nothing happened thereafter. It went back to the status quo. Nick would satisfy his desire for Greg with his own hand while staring intently at the phone, willing Greg to call. He would scream out Greg's name as he came and always repressed the urge to call Greg in his post orgasmic haze.

It was a month after his tryst with Greg – a month of hearing nothing, that Nick finally lost hope – and control.

He had gone to a bar – just a low-key out of the way bar, when a younger man came and sat down beside him. The man looked a lot like Greg, brown eyes, brown hair – slender and youthful. Nick had enough liquor in him to convince himself that maybe it was Greg.

The young man convinced Nick that he was too drunk to drive. Nick sat in the passenger seat of the man's car – the man said his name was Chris, or, at least, that's what Nick thought it was. Chris took Nick upstairs and kissed him.

It wasn't exactly like kissing Greg – Greg's kisses had always been a little more demanding, a little firmer. But Chris felt good too, and Nick was losing hope in Greg. He let Chris undo his pants and drop to the floor.

"Don't wanna blowjob," Nick whined. "Want to fuck you."

Chris didn't say anything, but stripped himself of his clothing. Condoms and lube appeared from the hidden drawer of the coffee table. Chris had his fingers in his ass when it hit Nick.

"Oh, God," was all he managed to choke out before throwing up onto the tan colored carpeting. Chris pulled his fingers out of himself and started to yell.

"What the hell is your problem? There's a fucking bathroom for that!"

"Sorry," Nick managed out before he started to giggle. The fact that he had thrown up on the carpet of the Greg-look alike stuck him as extremely funny.

"Fuck!" was all Chris could manage to yell as he stared down at Nick's vomit – still naked and the fingers of his right hand still glistening with lube.

They had both lost their erections by the time Chris kicked Nick out. Nick dialed the only number he knew to at a time like this.

"Sanders."

"So professional," Nick slurred.

"What the hell?"

"I'm drunk. I was gonna get laid, but I threw up allllllll over his floor. He kinda looked a little like you. I wanted to fuck him, I wanna fuck you. You're ass is so hot. You've got an awesome cock, Greg. Love to taste it."

"Nick, I'm fucking at work. At a fucking crime scene."

"Fucking crime scene? You getting fucked, too? I bet you look hot."

"Nicholas." Greg's tone was harsh and serious.

"Yes, sir! You want me to suck your cock? I wanna suck your cock... all day long. Your long, thick cock. Feel it in my mouth..."

"Nick! Stop it!" Nick thought he heard Sara yelling at Greg in the background. "Tell Sara she can't suck your cock. I suck it."

"Nick, where are you? I'll call you a cab and get you home."

"Home with you?"

"No, your home."

"Don't wanna."

"Stop being such a fucking bitch about this, Nick. Let me call you a cab and I promise I'll come over right after shift."

"And let me suck your cock? You told me you would call – you never called."

"Yes. If you tell me where you are, we can do that."

Nick managed to tell Greg the cross streets he was standing at and Greg sent him a cab. Nick tried to wake up, but the alcohol over took him and he fell asleep.

....

Nick woke to a cool cloth on his head and a bile taste in his mouth. He tried to sit up, but he felt a hand holding him down. "Nicky, don't move."

Nick tried to protest, but he could already feel it – it as the worst hangover of his life. He groaned and tried to shield his eyes from the light. "I don't remember anything."

"You called and harassed me at work – I called you a cab. Then I found you passed out on your bed – fully dressed."

"Fuck. I'm sorry, Greg."

"Did you mean it?"

Nick had no idea what Greg was talking about. "Mean what?"

"When you said that you were going to fuck someone that looked like me?"

Nick racked his brain, finding that only bits and pieces of the night were available to him. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I was so wasted."

Greg ran the cloth over Nick's head once more. "I'll get you some water and some aspirin."

Nick wanted him to stay, but it was impossible to make his body move properly. He didn't know exactly what had transpired after the bar, but he knew he was ashamed of it.

Greg thrust the water and pills next to Nick unceremoniously. "Take them. I've got to get out of here."

"Greg, seriously – stay."

"For what? You just lie like the rest of them – say you love me – say you'll wait – and then you just go and hurt me! Just like everyone else!" Greg started to run for the door. Nick tried to run after him, but the headache was too strong and he ended up just falling over.

This time, Greg was gone and Nick had no one to blame but himself.

***

Next story in series - Helping Hand.