Title: The Problem with Sex
By: Nicci
Pairing: Nick/Warrick
Rating: NC17
Summary: Warrick POV. Coda to Invisible Evidence. The boys have issues. This version is different than the on posted to a CSI slash list.
Warning: Graphic sex between two men. Well, maybe, depending on your idea of graphic sex.
Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigations and its characters are the product of CBS Productions, Alliance Atlantis Communications, Touchstone Television, and Jerry Bruckheimer Films. Written for entertaining purposes only.

***

He hears the doorbell ringing, and the moan of pleasure he's having turns into something like a growl. The invigorating shower helped, but he's physically fatigued, and mentally worn out from having a rather difficult day at CSI. All he wants is sleep, in that big, hard, and inviting bed of his. He's edgy and not in the best mood for entertaining uninvited guests.

He should be happy. He managed to catalog, examine, and present admissible evidence in court after working 24 long and hard hours straight through. With the exception of one lousy break.

It isn't that working hard or the long hours that bothers him. He almost blew the case for the DA. A simple detail really. Though very important, and how could this slip his mind, like having a search warrant before searching the car?

He could deal with the fact the police officer in charge fell down on his duty and didn't get the search warrant. Even accept blame for not checking in with the officer and verifying that a warrant did exists. Having evidence refuted by the judge as inadmissible because of a technicality isn't his style. He's thorough, or at least he would like to think so. His head would like to believe it too, after all, he knocked it several times against the locker's door in the locker room thinking: stupid, stupid, stupid.

But what really gets him, fucks with his head, it's Nick. They had a fight at the worse possible time during his one lousy break. At a time when Warrick needed his support and not a lesson on society's proper conduct when one's under stress. He couldn't even finish his lunch.

~~~~

Warrick pads, hurriedly, with arms shrugging into his shirt's sleeves, his toes curling into the carpet. Frowning, he speculates about the person at his door, he has been home for a little more than an hour. He thinks how unlikely his grandmother would pay him a visit without calling first. He hopes none of his buddies from the jazz club were dropping by. As much as he loves hanging out with them, he isn't up to it just yet.

The spiel is set, the song and dance he gives when he wants to beg off visits from friends for another time, that's until he discovers the identity of the uninvited guest at his door.

"Why are you here?" He slouches against the doorframe, jams his hands inside his pants pockets, and eyes Nick from head to toe. Still frowning, he's mildly surprised and also feels somewhat more than irritation.

Warrick notes the change in clothes, notes the tense look in the narrowed eyes, and the body language that tells him that someone definitely wants finishing the fight he started earlier. He doesn't appreciate what he sees, though. The bright smile Nick normally wears, that's so much a part of him has disappeared, hiding away behind a humorless expression. He prefers the easygoing and cheerful face rather than the ambivalent one staring at him.

Warrick thinks, that like him, Nick must be tired. But here he's looking as if the weight of the world has settled on his shoulders, as if he could tear into Warrick with his eyes alone.

Warrick knows the tone of his greeting is sort of rude. He knows at this minute he doesn't really care.

"I wanna talk."

"I'm too tired to have this conversation." He looks at Nick through the slits of his eyes. He feels reluctance. He wants Nick to stay and yet he's still smarting from their earlier confrontation. Warrick is not in the mood for round two.

Pain flashes across Nick's face. His dull eyes stare at him making him feel uncomfortable. "Warrick…" He shuts up, apparently ill at ease.

Then suddenly he rushes past Warrick, heedless of the consequences, he strides quickly into the living room. In his desire to gain access, Nick almost pushes Warrick against the door.

Warrick smiles derisively. Clearly, Nick is feeling risky.

Closing the door behind him, Warrick thinks this isn't how he envisions spending his time off from work. He want to sleep, Nick wants to talk, and he'd rather remain unengaged.

"Do you want beer?" Warrick passes Nick's brooding form in the living room on his way to the kitchen.

"Sure, man."

When he returns with two cans, he sees Nick's face buried inside his hands as he sits on the couch. How long, he wonders, will this take and will Nick go before either of them come to blows.

"Here you go." Warrick made sure he sits at the far end of the couch. He swings his bare feet onto the coffee table, pops open the tab on the can, and throws it in a bowl on the table. He slowly sips the cool liquid. The couch will do for now, he thinks as he leans his head against the back and closes his eyes, hoping Nick will get the hint.

"Look, I'm here to apologize."

"For what?" Glancing over at Nick, Warrick knows why. He's taking sadistic pleasure in making Nick squirm.

"For the fight this afternoon."

"It's forgotten." Not really - his mere presence is a reminder of the hurt he felt earlier.

"Not good enough."

"Nick, we've spent long hours solving a case. We were tired and stressed out. So, yeah, it's forgotten." The sound of Nick's exhaling tells Warrick he isn't happy with his response, that what he said did little in calming down the agitation he sees in him.

Nick moves around uncomfortably for a few minutes before he settles on the edge of the couch, hands clasping and unclasping between his legs. "Man, you're too confusing. Sometimes I don't know what to say. Don't know when you're going to explode on me. Then you flip like a coin and turn cool. You're like a lion, ready to swallow anyone who dares have a different opinion."

Well, that didn't take long. "A lion?" Warrick arches his eyebrows.

"Yeah. Fierce, wary, and insensitive."

Ouch, that hurts. Nick sounds cold and spiteful. He thought Nick understood… Whatever. Warrick keeps his cool. "I don't know where you're going with this. I do have principles."

Nick grimaces. Warrick hears the sound of a crushing tin can.

"I've been tense, lately. I want this promotion and the waiting is killing me."

"You got a bigger problem than that," Warrick says, snorting.

"What are you saying?"

"It's your attitude. You want that promotion, but you're going about it the wrong way."

"Just because I consoled that woman doesn't mean it was wrong.

"I'm not saying you were wrong. It's what happened afterwards, that's the problem."

I apologized already," Nick says.

"I think you should talk to Grissom. Ask him about your chances for that promotion."

"My chances! You're kidding, right? You and Cath, you guys get the first-rate cases, get the chance to shine and stand on your own merit. I'm stuck with cases that do nothing for my visibility. It isn't fair."

"Was this the reason you got into my face this afternoon?"

"Go to hell, Warrick. You're not stupid." Nick stands up and starts pacing the living room.

Warrick observes him while sipping on his beer, imagines him wearing down the carpet on the floor. He wonders if there's more to the situation. Could Nick be that upset about getting that promotion?

"Griss will make his decision in due time. You just need to maintain your cool, and do your job the best you can."

"Listen to you. What do you know about being calm? Nick sneers. He's all but turning purple. "Fuck this shit. I want to know what the hell is your problem."

That wakes up Warrick, makes him sit up straight, and glares at Nick. He thought he deftly turned the conversation back onto Nick. "Fuck. What got you in a twist?"

"You."

"Me. What about me?"

Nick stalks over to Warrick, knocks his legs from the table, and gets right into his face, so close their breath mingles gently between them. And as tired as he feels, there's a sense of anticipation, a spark of curiosity as he watches a cold and furious Nick hovering over him.

Nick grabs him by his hair, throws his head back, and slams his mouth downward. Warrick haven't felt in a long time, the fierceness of lips crushing his mouth, teeth scoring into his bottom lip.

"Ow."

"Shut up." Nick continues kissing, thrusting his tongue inside Warrick's mouth over and over.

It feels like punishment; it feels fucking good. Has someone switch bodies with Nick while he wasn't looking? First, it's the argument in the break room, and now this. And this is so unlike the man he knows.

Nick jerks backwards after nipping Warrick's lips once more. "You make me crazy." His body vibrates with anger.

Oh. Warrick, he throws up his hands, pretending to protect himself from the evil lord looming over him. "Okay. Maybe you should tell me why," he says, leaning back, looking up at Nick.

"Yeah, no. I wanna fuck."

"Oh no." Nick's change in attitude, it's a surprising turn of events. Warrick may not have slept in 24 hours but what person in their right mind would pass up the chance to fuck?

Nick obviously assumes the 'oh no' is a 'yes,' and pulls Warrick by his hair and forces him onto his feet. Well, really, he's going with the momentum or he'll have a bald spot on his head.

He's slightly taller than Nick, and Nick grabbing him by his hair has him bending over. And if Warrick isn't careful, he might end up on the floor. Not that's a bad idea being on his hands and knees as Nick's sub, playing to the master's wishes. He decides, though, he isn't ready to let on how much he's enjoying Nick's newfound excursion into dominance. He's more interested in learning just how far Nick would go.

Warrick removes the fingers from his hair. Nick reacts quickly and grabs Warrick by his upper arms, and drags him into the bedroom.

"Take off your clothes."

"Do you think you could ask a little nicely?"

"Don't play with me!"

"Whoa." Warrick prances backwards.

The naturally thin lips tighten indicating Nick's displeasure with Warrick's behavior. He reaches out and quickly rips open his shirt.

Shocked, Warrick looks down at buttons popping to the floor. "Damn. You tore my shirt."

"I did no such thing. Sew the damn buttons back on, if it makes you feel better. Now take off your clothes."

"Be careful."

"Strip!"

The shirt he wears is hanging open. Warrick merely shrugs it off and pushes his pants down his legs. Knowing that Nick is watching excites him. A thrill of desire rushes to the head of his cock, causing it to raise half-mast. The boxer he wears sort of hides his cock from Nick and he thinks about teasing him by leaving them on.

"Everything off, now!" Nick demands.

Damn, he can read minds. Their eyes meet and Warrick suddenly sees Nick and realizes what they're doing is taking on a whole new dimension. There's something about Nick's manner that makes his having fun pale. That he seems conflicted, even unhappy. True, the lust has darkened his eyes to black coal, but there's a sense of coldness surrounding him, putting distance between them that Warrick doesn't like.

"Do it, Warrick."

Nick, he unfastens the zipper and buttons to his pants. His hand slips inside and starts a slow caress. Heat rises on Warrick's face as he ogles Nick. Beads of sweat prickle the skin on his forehead.

God, he thinks Nick looks hot with the bare skin on his stomach skin peeking through the shirt and pants. His hips are tilting to the side, and the fingers slide wantonly inside his pants, pressing against the bulge there. The cold visage on his face disappears as Nick closes his eyes, a little smile playing about his lips, enjoying himself without Warrick. Not fair, he thinks.

He hurriedly pulls off his underwear. The boxer's material grazes over his arousal. He forgets about any doubts he has, and instead poses for Nick, as if maybe they're in competition. His hand trails from his chest down to his own bare stomach and below, skimming subtly over hot skin, and lingers right there. He's teasing Nick now, who's finally paying attention, as much as he's teasing himself. He sees the effect he has on Nick and smiles lasciviously.

Nick walks towards Warrick and pushes hard. Warrick's body slams onto the bed, bouncing heavily before he arranges himself on the soft sheets. Goes back to stroking, wanting the feel of warm skin on his body while he waits for Nick to proceed, waits as the excitement rises, and his blood gets hotter by the minute. Evidently, his cock feels the fervor and grows.

"That's right. Make yourself hard for me." Nick demands, and slowly removes his clothes never taking his eyes away from Warrick.

Yeah, this is new, Nick giving instructions. Sees how Nick eats up his body with hungry eyes, and Warrick feels owned by the serious intent. He throws an arm under his head; sprawls reposed on the bed, the motion of his hands is moving back and forth.

Nick crawls naked between open legs and reaches over Warrick in silence. He pulls out a drawer from the night table near the bed's headboard.

Pale skin skims over his darker tone, close enough, Warrick breaths in the spicy and natural smell that's Nick. Just short of smothering him with sweetness, he wants badly to lick the skin, to taste the saltiness he would find there.

Nick wobbles a little during his search. Warrick steadies him; takes advantage of the opportunity to rub down muscular sides, kneading the curves and bone indentation on the slim figure. A brown nipple floats over his mouth and he sticks out the tip of his tongue and lick. Yes, and Nick shivers at the touch of wet tongue on his skin.

"Did I say you could touch me?" Nick scrambles back onto his knees between Warrick's legs with lube and condom in hand.

"You're lying on my face. What did you expect?"

Giving him a stern look, Nick twists the cap off the lube he finds in the draw. "You do what I tell you to do."

"Yes, sir! Am I allowed to do this?" The palm of his hand massages deeply into the muscles in his chest, a finger is flickering the nipple on his breast.

"Yes, and Warrick, no more talking. I don't want to hear your voice."

Interesting. He wonders is it okay to moan, he isn't much of a screamer.

"Not one sound?" He says this as his mouth quirks into a smile.

"No." It becomes quite obvious Nick does want control that maybe there's a point to this, and he has yet to learn exactly what it is.

"Damn…"

"Warrick, shut up. I'll do the talking."

During previous get-togethers, he was the aggressor, the one who took Nick's virginity, the one who dominated in their lovemaking. Nick was shy at first, but he learned quickly the moves and the touches that Warrick liked. Warrick discovered what excited Nick, what made him burn. Nick became his fuck buddy. It was good between them, but lately, the satisfaction wasn't quite as thrilling, thinking how work at CSI often affected the barest relationship.

"Bring your knees to your chest."

Warrick does as told. Nick prepares him, hurriedly, with cold fingers that are rough on his skin. He slicks the lube on his covered cock, and presses between Warrick's straggled legs. Without hesitation, he enters Warrick.

Burning sensations flare through his body. He doesn't remember the last time he has played the bottom. He breathes in deeply to ease the way for Nick, and forces his body to relax.

"You feel so tight," Nick whispers.

Yeah, and all the nerves in his body are vibrating with sensation. Nick, his skin lies against him warm and moist. His weight holds him down and the arms trap him inside their embrace. Grunting sounds split the air as Nick thrusts inside him. He fills full, so full of Nick in a good way. Parts of him begin a meltdown to a place that once has no appeal.

Here he's lying splayed under a driving force when as a rule he was the one that drove. Unremarkable in attitude and selfish, he realizes what he missed not giving into this pleasure until now. It's easy taking the reins of control in his relationships. Nick made it far too easy for him. He has forgotten, though, the feelings of opening up and giving a part of himself to someone, particularly to the man in his arm, if he ever has.

But something is different with this coupling. Unwilling to utter a word or sound, he's respecting Nick's wishes for silence, and he senses something different about him, like earlier. Warrick's whole concentration centers on Nick. Loving him with his hands and body and falling under a sensual haze that feels so good. But Nick, it's as if he's holding back, an act unfamiliar to this man's nature.

He knows everything about the body on him, the shape of his arms, the indentation of his navel, the firm and muscular thighs, how he looks in passion with his mouth slacked open and the glazed eyes, half closed. Warrick can't see him, can't see what this is doing to Nick. He wants to know is Nick just as affected by this as he is.

Instead, he has his face buried in the space between Warrick's shoulder and neck. Hiding out it seems. His short black hair brushing against the side of Warrick's face, and the raspy moans sound strained like he wishes he could smother his desire.

This isn't his Nick. Warrick wants the man who's vocal, who doesn't hesitate expressing how good it is between them. He wants Nick's hands on his body, caressing him in any way he could. He wants to see Nick. And it darns on him, finally, that he really does care, that he has been misleading himself all this time. Telling himself it was just sex.

No way will he let Nick go on this way. He does want reciprocation. He grips Nick tight within his arms, rubs his back, and splatters the pale skin with moist kisses. Strains of hair slide through his fingers, the softness tickling the nerves. He wraps his body around Nick, legs encircling thrusting hips. He opens up to more than sexual pleasure.

"Kiss me," he whispers, breaking the silence.

Nick does so at his neck and not where Warrick wanted, on his mouth.

"Why can't I have you? Why won't you listen to me?"

The pain in the voice, it tears him up.

"God," Warrick moans. He couldn't answer the questions, not now, engaged as they were. He could do something better.

Fingers slide gently through hair, roaming down the small neck pressing in lightly. Warrick softly rub at the base of neck feeling the curvature before changing direction and ending up at Nick's chin. Here he pressed upward slightly wanting to see Nick's face. When eyes stare into his, he sees pain there and gets the proof of his culpability.

The pad of his finger traces over lax lips, feels the breath of heat, pain, and pleasure. Warrick kisses dampened cheeks and then the mouth. He puts all of his desires and wants into the motion of the act.

Nick, he tries resisting Warrick, refusing to accept the kisses. Warrick sees skepticism in his eyes as Nick looks down at him before resuming his place on his shoulder.

Warrick thinks, the bed is for sleeping. The bed is for lovemaking. The bed isn't meant for anger especially when they're entwined, connected, one inside the other.

He's no longer interested in the game of domination Nick had started. He wants Nick to see and feel him. He tightens around Nick and rolls them over, not losing the connection between them. He surrounds him, placing a hand on each side of Nick's head. He rolls with the motion of rocking up and down, and back and forth, going as deeply as he could.

"What are you doing?" Nick gasps, surprised at the move.

Warrick just smiles, leans down and kisses him on the mouth. The intensity of emotions he feels burn deeply inside his belly, getting stronger as Nick relinquishes whatever control he has over himself, and accepts what's given to him. He breaths love into Nick.

Shivering, Nick embraces Warrick's shoulders before releasing, to run his hands down his sides. He presses upward into Warrick, moaning and meeting his every stroke. Warrick sees how beautiful Nick is, his face flushed with passion. He remembers this is the Nick, who's a compassionate and considerate man. He thinks this is how Nick should be with him, always.

"God. Yes, Warrick." Nick moans and shakes with completion.

"Yes," Warrick whispers. He thrusts downward one last time, muscles clenching, body shuddering as he tries to get close to Nick as possible.

~~~~

He comes out of the bathroom bearing a warm washcloth preparing to wipe down an exhausted Nick, who has drifted off to sleep. What he sees is Nick sitting on the bed with his pants on and buttoning his shirt. He pretends this doesn't upset him.

"I thought you were staying."

"No, I don't think I should." Nick refuses eye contact and continues to fasten his shirt.

"You know you can stay." Warrick throws the washcloth on the floor. He thinks he sounds like he's begging.

Nick stands and pushes the shirttail inside his pants. Watching, Warrick notes how he gives the whole process unnecessary attention. The alarm goes off in Warrick's head remembering earlier feelings of unease. He prefers the confrontational man.

"I can't do this anymore."

"Do what?" Warrick asks, sitting down on the bed and looking up at Nick.

"This." His eyes sweep the bedroom. When his gaze settles on Warrick, he says, "I'm sorry."

"That's about your third apology. I wish you'd stop that."

Nick shrugs. "I shouldn't have come here, anyway. I don't know why I jumped all over you."

"I do."

"Do you." There's doubt in those eyes when Nick glance glides over him.

"You're angry at me. For the way I treated the victim's sister. I get that. I know I sounded insensitive but I didn't mean to come off that way."

"No, man. That isn't it."

Warrick bends down to the floor and grab his boxer, pulls them on. No way is he having this conversation in bare skin.

Feeling comfortable now and not quite so exposed, he says, "Yeah, it is. You know me. You know when I'm deep into a case I get intense. I know I've this tendency for bluntness. I don't always have the time or patience to play nice."

"You weren't that bad."

Nick says that unknowingly patronizing him. But, why is he pacing the floor again? The tension in Nick comes back full force as Warrick defended his action. Somehow, he thinks he's missing the mark and the reason why Nick is still upset with him.

"Nick, you did good by that woman. She had every right to be concerned. She wanted the killer behind bars."

"Yes, I know. I gotta go."

Nick whirls around and leaves him sitting on the bed, leaves him with the impression of finality. Warrick stands immobilized. He frowns at the departing back of his lover, who goes through the door without saying another word. Stunned at the quick change of events, he assumed Nick would spend the night here, as he always did. He stares at the bed in disarray. Turns and glances at his clothes still on the floor. And yet, he doesn't see anything except the image of Nick, doesn't smell anything except the lingering scent of sex and of Nick.

If he doesn't do something, like now, everything will change. The pride ingrained in him can go to hell. Warrick rushes out of the bed.

"Nick, wait up."

It seems at first Nick had no intention of stopping. Then he slowly turns around and faces Warrick. "What?"

"We're cool, right?"

That look on his face isn't what Warrick expects. Nick took him to bed and fucked his brains out. He loved every moment of it. How can he look so damn sad after experiencing the best sex?

"What do you want from me?" Nick asks.

"What do you mean?"

"The sex between us is really good. I'll admit that. But you, you make me feel like a toy you take out and play with when the mood strikes you."

"You're not a toy," Warrick responds, harshly.

"No?"

"No."

"Then tell me, what the fuck am I to you? Because, man, the way I see it from here. I'm nothing but your plaything."

"That's not the way it is."

"Really. Then why can't we have intelligent conversations? I fucking hate it when you brush me off with harsh words."

Warrick scrubs his face with his hands. Was he surprised that Nick felt this way? Impossible relationship stuff, he thinks. Warrick isn't ever comfortable with explaining himself to anyone.

"It isn't that way, at all." He knows he's repeating himself, and what he's saying isn't good enough.

"Yeah, it is." Nick says this walking towards him. "All I want is for you to talk to me, Warrick. When I have problems, I talk to you. You give me advice and I listen. I want the same consideration from you. I want to feel like I've the right to speak my opinion. I want more for us than just me warming your bed."

Nick stops talking, he stands right there in front of Warrick, close enough to run a finger down his face. Warrick trembles lightly at the touch, it feels comforting and non-sexual. It's a touch of someone who cares.

"You deserve better. You know that, don't you?

"Damn right I do."

"I know I've issues. I've handled my problems since childhood. I'm not used to people questioning my motives. "But you," Warrick says, his finger lifting Nick's chin. "I want you. I need you, Nick."

"I want you too. But our relationship will have to change."

Warrick nods in agreement. He's afraid, though. None of this is easy for him; yet, he's compelled to have his say in this. "I give you license to ask me, to tell me, to ream me a new asshole if necessary. Be patient with me, okay."

"I can do that, be patient."

The smile, it's back, where it belongs on Nick's face. It's the kind of smile that lights up Warrick's world. Sparkling eyes beam at him.

"Kiss me," Nick demands.

"Yes, master." Warrick, he embraces Nick, holds onto him tight, not wanting to let him go. He can't lose Nick now. He's ready for this relationship, and wants more from it. Warrick knows difficult times might be ahead. He isn't always the easiest person to deal with. But he's willing to open up communications and listen to Nick.

"Are you staying?"

"I'm beat. I should go home and sack out."

"Come on. Stay with me." Warrick kisses his forehead, and begins to unbutton his shirt.

"Do I have a choice?"

"I need sleep. You need sleep. Nah. You have no say in the matter. I want to wake up next to you. Besides, we need to finish out talk."

That smile, it just gets brighter. "I'll stay then."

"Good."

He whirls Nick around and pushes him towards the bedroom. Before they cross over the threshold, he grabs him around the waist and presses Nick's back against his bare chest. His tongue slides out of his mouth and licks the ear nearby. While leaning even closer to Nick, he whispers, "By the way, I like alpha Nick. I'm game anytime, man."

Nick, he laughs, grabs Warrick's arm and yanks him into their bedroom.


The end

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