Title: Pulse
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Ryan Wolfe
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
Rating: PG-13
Table: 5_prompts, Month of November challenge
Prompt: Day 1 - Picture of unbuttoned shirt at man's throat
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, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Greg glanced up at Ryan from the far side of the room they were in, each of them collecting evidence to take back to the lab. The last couple of days had passed uneventfully; in just two more days, Ryan would be moving into the apartment next door to him.

What would it be like when Ryan no longer officially lived in his apartment? Would he feel abandoned, or would it really matter all that much? After all, Ryan was only moving right next door -- and they would still spend all of their time together.

He'd tried to tell himself so many times that this would just give them a little space, that each of them would have their own place now, and that it would make their relationship stronger if they both had personal space that they could call their own.

This wasn't going to make any great change in their relationship, he told himself firmly. In fact, it would be good for them to have two places to spend their time. It would keep them from getting bored and wanting to go out; it would draw them even closer to each other.

He couldn't help watching Ryan as the other man carefully collected the evidence they were processing; it seemed to him that his boyfriend grew more attractive every day. It was a miracle that someone hadn't already snapped this man up before Greg had even met him.

But somehow, Ryan had stayed single until he'd come to Vegas -- and this man was his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to love. He didn't know how he'd gotten so lucky, but he thanked whatever destiny it was that had sent Ryan into his life.

Ryan was so intent on what he was doing that he didn't notice Greg watching him; he was carefully lifting the pieces of evidence from where they lay on the ground and putting them into plastic bags, to be taken back to the lab and examined more closely.

Greg could see the pulse beating in Ryan's throat, just below the collar of his shirt. He'd unbuttoned the first three buttons; Greg felt his own pulse quicken and his mouth go dry as he stared at the small patch of smooth skin that was revealed at the opening of his boyfriend's shirt.

He could imagine going over there to where Ryan was kneeling, raising him to his feet, and pressing his mouth against the pulse beating there in his lover's throat, then moving his mouth up the slender column of his neck to his cheek, then to his lips ....

Greg pressed a hand against his chest to feel his own heartbeat pounding there as he thought about what he wanted to do with Ryan, here in the middle of a crime scene. No one else was around; they wee here alone, with no one to see anything they might do.

Of course he wasn't going to act on those thoughts, he told himself quickly, wishing that he could simply push those ideas out of his mind and lock them away, to be taken out some other time when they were alone at home. It would be the height of non-professionalism.

He wasn't going to take the risk of anyone coming to the crime scene unexpectedly and finding him there kissing Ryan. That was the last thing they needed; he was already sure that some of their colleagues knew about their relationship, and were keeping quiet about it.

What would the other team members do if he and Ryan threw caution to the winds and they were caught in an embrace? Most of them would probably pretend that they hadn't seen anything; after all, they all thought the rule about people on the same shift not dating was ridiculous, too.

But there was always the question of whether they would slip up and say anything in front of Catherine -- or worse, in front of Ecklie. The last thing either Greg or Ryan wanted was to be moved to another shift, where they wouldn't be able to work together any more.

It had been a stroke of luck that had put them together as partners, with the new system that the crime lab had adopted. Greg didn't want that to change; he wanted to be sure that he and Ryan had each other's backs when they were at work, that they could keep each other safe.

There was no way that he was going to risk not being able to work iwth his boyfriend. So he would simply stand here and watch Ryan while he was working, admire him from afar, and think of all the things that they could do when they were alone together.

That pulse at the base of Ryan's throat was irresistible; he could almost taste the tang of his lover's skin on his tongue, feel the softness of that tender flesh against his lips. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine that he was already in Ryan's arms ....

"I'm going to take this stuff back to the lab. Are you almost ready to go, or do you need some help?" Ryan's voice brought Greg back to reality; he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly and shaking his head to clear away the mists of the fantasy he'd allowed himself to get lost in.

"Yeah, I'm done here, I think." He blushed as he spoke, wondering if Ryan could tell that he'd been lost in his own little dream world -- and if his boyfriend knew what he had been thinking. Somehow, Ryan had an uncanny way of being able to tell when Greg's thoughts were focused on him.

"The sooner we get this stuff back to the lab and start analyzing it, the faster time will go by and the sooner we can get home and be alone," Ryan said softly, moving closer to where Greg was standing. His voice dropped to a mere whisper as he spoke again.

"I don't know about you, but all I've been able to think of all day long is getting your clothes off, getting you into bed and doing ..... this." One arm slid around Greg's waist to pull him closer as Ryan bowed his head to brush his lips against the hollow at the base of Greg's throat.

His pulse leaped to life at the touch of Ryan's lips; they were standing so close together that he could feel his boyfriend's heart beating in tandem with his own, pounding against his chest. He could swear that their hearts were synchronized, their pulses beating in perfect rhythm.

Greg's head fell back, his eyes closing, his lips parting. Trust Ryan to have the courage to do what he hadn't dared to do. But even as the thought crossed his mind, his boyfriend stepped away from him; Greg opened his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to recover his senses.

"Come on," Ryan told him with a smile. "Let's get back to the lab." He raised his hand to caress Greg's cheek fleetingly before heading for the front door; Greg followed him, a soft smile curving his lips as his pulse settled back into its normal rate -- though not, he was sure, for long.

***