Story Title: PWP
Author: Esynnaj
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Gil/Warrick
Rating: FRAO
Email: vebesahchalarc@sbcglobal.net
Warnings: None really, except the usual slash
Summary: Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Grissom decides to come up a winner and Warrick decides to show him exactly what he's won.
Disclaimer: CSI and all characters from it belong to CBS Productions, Touchstone Television, Alliance Atlantis Communications and Jerry Bruckheimer Films.
Appreciation Proclamation: This story, PWP, piggybacks on "Injured Sentiments," "Repercussions and Futures" by Kaelleigh and "Loving and Loss in Las Vegas" by EbIv. It is also a direct result of a kinda, sorta challenge put out there by Nahellenia. I thank all of you for your inspiration.

PWP

Grissom had never been in the facility where Warrick went to work out. While acknowledging the value of physical exercise, it was simply an activity in which he had never had much interest, particularly if it had to be done in the public environs of a Power Man Gym with its testosterone overloaded, muscle bound, macho types strutting about. There were too many people, mostly men, wandering about, too much nerve wracking noise and too much clanging competitiveness with all the bar bells and weights being heaved about. Worse of all, there was too much attention being given to the man he wished to claim as his own.

Grissom had tried to show his amusement after he had sat down at the middle of a conversation in the break room during which Nick had been laughing and talking about how often he and Warrick had recently been hit on while at the gym. He'd had everyone except Grissom in stitches as he had described a raucous scene in a sauna when one of Warrick's buddies had snatched his towel off and a friendly wet towel snapping free-for-all among six or seven nude males, Warrick and Nick included, had ensued. Several had been rambunctious, virile, physically fit, very masculine Marines from the nearby bases who were in Vegas on R&R looking for a good time. They had been among the primary group going strictly after Warrick and Nick. Envisioning what that must have been like had made Grissom flush with heat as much as it had consumed him with jealousy.

Wandering through the gym searching for Warrick and seeing all the hard bodies, he wondered, not for the first time and certainly not for the last, what it was Warrick saw in him, why Warrick had pursued him with flowers and music, those lovely old-fashioned methods of a gentleman courting the love of his life. That had incited Grissom's interest to the point he had finally broken down and engaged in a short term, seriously sexual relationship with him.

But when Warrick had been shot, Grissom had fallen apart at the thought of losing him. Afraid of losing control and being hurt beyond what he thought endurable, he had retreated into the safety of the shell he had burnished and polished to perfection over the years. He had been so lacking in any empathic understanding of his own, much less others', emotional needs, he had informed Warrick of his decision they could no longer be together as he lay in a hospital bed recovering from the gunshot wound. What he also had not understood was how much worse it would hurt not to have Warrick around afterward, how empty and lonely his life and home would become without that warm presence. That had not been bearable.

He had done all he could possibly do to get Warrick back and had been successful. Now, he was determined not to lose him again. He constantly prayed to whatever deities there might be that he would have the strength to never do harm like he had to Warrick again. He had this hope at the same time he still knew that, if anyone ever became coward enough to walk away from the relationship, it would be him, not Warrick. Warrick wasn't the type to walk away from anyone he cared about, no matter what they did. But Grissom had few worries that he could walk away now. It would be too difficult, for he was equally certain he'd never be able to live with himself if he ever had to see that look of dejection that had been on Warrick's face the day he had said they couldn't be a couple anymore. It was seared into his memory and he would never live down being the cause of that until the day he died.

On the other hand, he'd never get enough of seeing the automatic look of complete happiness that crossed Warrick's face whenever Grissom arrived wherever he was. Grissom was in awe of that. That look appeared so instinctively natural and heartfelt, always accompanied by such a blinding grin, that Grissom self-consciously wondered why it didn't light up the entire area like a neon sign announcing to the whole world that Warrick Brown and Gilbert Grissom were engaged in an illicit love affair that was patently against LVPD regulations. It kept him in a ball of confusion. Grissom honestly could not understand why Warrick insisted on loving him when he still was not able to love him back as well as he deserved or when there was so many others younger and in obviously much better shape than he, therefore more on Warrick's level, boldly putting their willing availability in his face. But he was eternally grateful Warrick had chosen him over them.

Now what he had to do was show Warrick exactly how grateful he truly was. The plan he had conceived and been putting into action for weeks was now in place and the notion of it had put a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. As he approached Warrick with his heart fluttering so it threatened to rise up out his throat, if he had been a slightly different sort of man, he would have been outright wriggling and giggling.

He stopped and leaned against a currently unused nearby weight bench to watch Warrick working out for a moment to settle himself down. Warrick was doing curls and so into it, he was, at first, unaware of Grissom being there. So Grissom took his leisure and lustfully observed him to his heart's contentment.

When Warrick had first come out the hospital, he had lost weight and been haggard, not the picture of glowing health he had been before being shot. But plenty of his grandmother's home cooking plus loving mothering from everybody else in his life had put the meat back on his bones while daily physical therapy had layered that with flexibility. Six weeks into that, after he had gotten the clear from his doctor, two months of long distance running and determinedly hitting the weights had added endurance and muscle. Now, finally, he was as fit as he had ever been, lean and hard with a set of outstanding pectorals and a six packed torso that wouldn't quit.

All Warrick had left to remind him of his terrible injury was a few twinges that caught him up if he moved wrong and a long, curving scar from his surgery that Grissom frequently traced while thanking all the gods above the cause of it hadn't been quite enough to take his life.

Warrick was a handsome man and used to be being stared at, so usually ignored whoever might be staring at him unless he was in the mood for a little harmless sexually oriented by play. He was very conscious of a unyielding gaze staying on him when black clad legs, all he could see as he was bent over doing his curls, parked themselves only three feet away facing him and didn't move again. Actually, he had been rather glad when the stares had resumed. That meant he had finally gotten himself together and was back in stride. However, today, he just wanted to finish his work out, go home to get some sleep, then take a shower and go to work.

He was still on desk duty because he hadn't been released into the field by his doctor yet and was itching at the bit to get outside the lab again with the rest of the CSI team. So he had to be at work on time and prove he was healthy enough to be put back on full duty. Therefore, at the present moment, he didn't have the time, patience or inclination to engage in a pointless flirtation or discussion. So as soon as he completed his set, he uncoiled from the bench and banged the weight back into place with an irritated frown, intending to give short rift to the annoying person who was standing much too close and wouldn't go away. Upon seeing that it was Grissom brought him up short and dropped his mouth open in surprise, much to Grissom's pleasure.

"Hey, man," Warrick said. "What're you doing here?"

Instead of answering, Grissom casually stood up and strolled even closer, leaned in until his face was only an inch from Warrick's, paused a moment to gaze into those green eyes then leaned further in to kiss his man lightly as he said softly with the gentlest of smiles, "Hi, Warrick." Then he wiped off a bit of perspiration from Warrick's forehead onto his fingers and put those fingers in his mouth to taste them as he commented, "Hmm, salty."

Incredibly, right after that, Grissom reached up to rest both hands on Warrick's shoulders, which were moist and bare except for the thin strip of his sleeveless, oversized satin jersey. Then he leaned in again to actually flick his tongue against Warrick's cheek while murmuring quite conversationally, "Hot and sweaty. I like that in a man." At the same time, surreptitiously, Grissom palmed him through the long, loose shorts he had on, squeezing gently Warrick's balls as he added, "I like these in a man, too."

Warrick nearly jumped out of his skin, not sure how to respond to this. It was just a tad too weird. Grissom had never kissed, caressed or fondled much less LICKED him in public. Never, not ever. He would seldom even touch Warrick in any particularly personal manner in public. Time and time again, he had expressed his disapproval of any such personal contact being conducted when others were around, especially if they were strangers.

Perfectly astounded, all Warrick could think of to say, was "Gris?!!" in a shocked voice. Then he glanced about in bewilderment, acting like, if he took a good enough look about where he was, he'd be elsewhere. At the very least, that would have to be back at the lab behind a closed and locked door of Grissom's office, the only place outside his house or Grissom's apartment where they had ever shared a kiss. Then, with a little more effort, he might be able to place Grissom in a proper context. Right now, considering where they were and in light of Grissom's mysterious behavior, he sure couldn't, for the man, dressed as he was in gray slacks and shirt with a black jacket, certainly looked out of place among all these perspiring, half naked bodies.

Now, he took his turn to lean into Grissom, sniffing as he did so and demanding, "Are you high or been drinking or something?"

"Ah, no. No, I don't do drugs and I haven't been drinking. I do feel drunk, but that's from loving you." Grissom reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope and handed it to Warrick. "Your doctor faxed this over to Ecklie's office today and he gave it to me. Congratulations. You've been given a clean bill of health and can return to field work again."

"Yeah?" Looking delighted, Warrick took the letter from the envelope to read it for himself. "It's about time. I've been going stir crazy, just being stuck in the lab. It's goddamn insulting that Greg could get out and cover crimes scenes when I couldn't."

"I thought you might feel that way and figured we should celebrate. I've called off for the next three days and called you off as well. You'll have to go in and sign your paperwork, but we're both going to take some personal leave."

Surprised again, Warrick looked from the letter to Grissom's face. Grissom had so much personal leave built up, every year, personnel had to insist he use some of it and had paid him off several times just to get it off the books before he lost it. "YOU called off? Man, are you feelin' all right?"

"I'm feeling fine. It's just I have a very special place I want to take you to and I want us to have enough time to thoroughly enjoy ourselves while we're there, although it's really going to be sort of a working mini-vacation. So, hurry up, get your clothes and come on outside. I took a cab over here so we can ride over together. Give me your keys. I'll be waiting for you in your truck."

With a look of total befuddlement, Warrick watched Grissom saunter away as if he hadn't a care in the world. The man was behaving most unlike himself. But Warrick couldn't say he minded. He and most of those who knew and/or cared about Grissom had been trying, and failing, to get him to relax and open up for years. If he finally was having even the smallest degree of success at that, Warrick felt that would be a major accomplishment.

Wonders still had not ceased when Warrick got to his Tahoe. Grissom had turned it on to let the air conditioning cool it off on the inside but was standing and leaning on the passenger door with his arms crossed, whistling and idly scuffing his shoe on the gravel of the parking lot. Warrick gave him a squinting frown as he rounded the SUV for the driver's side, telling him, "Will you get in before somebody sees you out here losing your mind?" He dropped his gym bag between the seats onto the back floor and asked as he put the vehicle into gear, "Okay, where're we headed?"

"Oh, just go that way," Grissom told him airily, waving a hand in a leftward direction. "I'll give you directions as we proceed."

After obediently driving under Grissom's orders for about half an hour, Warrick discovered they had ended up at a brand new, very expensive housing complex that was in a gated community complete with guards at each entry. Grissom had him drive to a condominium that had a spacious, beautifully landscaped front yard with an attached double garage and decorated steel double front doors. Urging Warrick from his automobile, he walked up a winding brick path and used a key to open one of the doors. "I just bought it," he said. Then he stepped back and invited Warrick to precede him, saying, "Take a look around and see how you like it."

Warrick walked in and was immediately impressed. The large foyer had shiny parquet flooring and led down to a gigantic sunken living room with modern muted pastel blue wall coloring and a pleasant contrasting trim running around it just below the ceiling. There was a fluted fireplace to the side and amazingly thick white carpeting surrounding a circle of gleaming hard wood floor going right up to the front of the fireplace. There was a multiple of boxes clearly labeled in Grissom's neat handwriting, but other than that, the only furniture in the living room was a spanking new overstuffed black leather couch with two matching chairs and ottoman. Placed near them was an old-fashioned four foot square, glass topped coffee table with a heavy ornate bottom designed to look antique that Warrick recognized had been in Grissom's former apartment.

The opposite wall of the living room was semi-transparent glass from a foot below the ceiling to the floor and its center door opened out onto a beautiful, spacious, circular terrarium already planted with a profusion of flowers and greenery. You exited the outer side of the terrarium onto a screened in redwood patio that went from one end of the condo to the garage. Sitting in the corner nearest the garage was the new, high end, gleaming, black baby grand piano that Warrick's musically inclined eye instantly zeroed in on.

That pleased him no end. Grissom had suggested he come back and stay with him after he had come out the hospital, since he had still been too weak and in too much pain to take care of himself at his own house. But Warrick had moved in with his grandmother instead. He had been too leery of upsetting the delicate balance of his and Grissom's newly regained but still tenuous relationship. He hadn't wanted Grissom to again experience that sensation of being out-of- control and go from to there to feeling smothered. So he had given Grissom as much space as needed to maintain his comfort zone. The fact that he had bought the piano meant he was, at least, making an attempt to invite Warrick into his life that far, because it certainly wasn't for him.

As much as Grissom loved to listen to classical music and was learning to like Warrick's jazz and blues and R&B, he had no singing voice at all, was practically tone deaf and all musical gifts had passed him by. So Warrick immediately knew who was the piano was for, although he wasn't about to say anything about that just yet, thereby forcing Grissom into involved, uncomfortable explanations. He simply continued his walk through, murmuring, "This is nice, Grissom, really, really nice… I like it. I like it a lot."

"Do you? Come look at the kitchen." Grissom reached out and caught Warrick's hand just as if it was normal behavior for him to grab Warrick to lead him where he wanted. He walked them that way, talking excitedly. "That's what honestly made me have to have it. It's huge, almost like a lab. I can do all kinds of experiments in here."

Warrick grinned at that as he followed where he was led. Grissom would be the one to think of doing experiments in an area of his home designed for cooking. But the kitchen was gorgeous, all modern cabinetry and four star quality stainless steel appliances. There were even two large butcher block stands with a few glossy pots and pans already sitting on them or hanging over them. "Well, you can experiment all you want in here, but somebody's got to break this place in right, stop it from lookin' like some restaurant. Grams would go outa her mind, if she ever had a kitchen like this to cook her holiday meals."

"Well then, we'll have to invite her over and let her take over whenever she wants to. In fact, maybe she should be the one to finish supplying it. I haven't got very many dishes and things and yours are kind of old and scarred up. We really should get all new stuff."

Warrick's heart had started hammering like it was going to beat its way out his chest. "You said 'we,' Gil," he said in a low voice, as if he wanted to make Grissom aware of his remark so there could be no mistake about it.

"I know what I said, Warrick," Grissom responded like what he had just said and what Warrick had just indicated he'd said was no big deal. Pulling at Warrick's hand, he led him to another area of the condo. "Come look at this. This is a huge place, four bedrooms, two baths, a laundry room and plenty of storage. I've got a king-sized bed for the master bedroom and another one for the second bedroom that's almost as large as the master. But right now, I want to show you one of the two smaller ones before we take a look at those."

From the way Grissom had been previously talking, Warrick had been half expecting what he saw but the emotions that welled up in him as he walked into what had been designed to be a bedroom made it impossible for him to say anything for a time. Everything he saw belonged to him, were an expression of his love of music, his stereo equipment, his two guitars, one a legacy from his mother, that he played competently but not expertly, his three keyboards he played extremely well and the trumpet given to him from a jazz musician friend that he did not. There was even the ancient, upright wooden piano from his grandmother's on which he'd first taught himself to play by ear as a child then taken lessons on that he later learned his grandmother had struggled to pay for out of love for him. Just like Grissom had brought it here out of love for him.

As Warrick moved about, touching his personal belongings that were in Grissom's space, lingering to run a loving hand over the piano keys and the raised, bumpy archaic decorations on its darkly mottled front, Grissom said, the first note of uncertainty appearing in the comment, "I had it tuned. I'm no musician, but to me, it sounded just as good as the one in the living room when the guy was here tuning it up."

Warrick nodded slowly as he said, voice sounding suddenly and abnormally husky, "It sounds real good, Gil. Real good."

"I, uh, had most of your things brought over here from your house. I mean, your clothes, personal items, sport's gear and things like that. Your grandmother helped me pack them. She knew better than I did what you'd want most. It's all in the second bedroom. That's yours, too. None of this," Grissom waved vaguely at their surroundings, "is just mine. Everything here belongs to you, too. Maybe I should've gotten your input before I bought it, but I was afraid you wouldn't agree to close the deal like I want to if I discussed it with you first. I thought I knew your taste well enough to know you'd like it, so I went ahead and bought it. But, I didn't do that for myself. All of this is yours as much as it's mine, Warrick."

"The realtor's coming over in the morning to add your name to the mortgage. She's a friend of mine and already has all the credit report information on you she needs to finalize matters." He added, trying for a smile that came out uncertain and tentative, "You don't expect me to pay for all of this all by myself, do you? None of us make that much money. You'll have to help me do this, Warrick. It's yours, mine and, consequently, ours. You are now in debt up to your ears."

With excessive and unbearable slowness, Warrick's head swung toward him, silent, thoughtful contemplation in his green gaze that was so unreadable, it further unnerved Grissom. Hoping he hadn't been wrong about everything and praying he was clarifying matters, Grissom took a deep breath and said, "All of ME is yours, Warrick. Everything I have and everything I am is yours. I've been pushing you away for far too long and want you totally and absolutely in my life. I'm terrified of losing you. When I messed up before, I discovered there was no home left without you. That apartment became an empty and meaningless space that made of me an empty and meaningless man. I began to dread going in there, knowing you wouldn't be there. Even now, when you aren't where I can be with you every night, I'm alone and empty. I need you near. I need you here. I won't lose you again. I can't take a chance on me making that mistake again. So, by putting your name on the mortgage, I'm tying you to me emotionally, physically, professionally and financially for the next thirty or forty years or so.

"That should be time enough for me to get myself together and stop doing whatever I do that forces me to drive away the very ones who offer me love. And, putting your name on mortgage should keep you from leaving me even after you realize you've fallen for a worrisome old dud who's too set in his ways and finally notice all the other hard bodied, young bloods out there who're after you."

Warrick smiled and said softly as he walked about touching his things. "Gris, here's a truth for ya. You can take it however you wanna, but I really mean it for a compliment. Hard bodies don't do shit for me. Makes your hands just go sliding all over tight flesh and gristle so you can't get a good grip. There's never nuthin' to grab onto. Now with a woman, unless she's freaked on steroids and lifting or anorexic or something, even if she is muscled up, she's usually still got enough fatty tissue to made her soft and cuddly, if she's in the mood, and I can get with that. A guy with a hard body? Uh-uh, no way, that's not me. Man, that's like making love to a fuckin' tree. It's like you're getting poked with all these angles and stove pipes arms and legs and knees and elbows. You keep hitting bone every which way you turn. After awhile, that just turns me off. I'm a black man and we like some meat. Not a whole lot, but you gotta have something for a man to get his hands into. There's got to be some ripple. It's got to give a little bit when we stroke it."

Warrick deserted his material possessions to wander over to his much more precious human possession and demonstrate as he explained his decided preference. This caused Grissom to sigh quietly and pleasurably although he had been sure he would be too anxious and exhausted from giving voice to his innermost feelings for any sort of passion to rise in him again for at least a month. "When me and whoever I'm with get a good friction goin', I want shit to move and get hot, want it to vibrate. I ain't sayin' I like it to jiggle like Jello or be so loose, it slaps me upside the head or I get buried in it so I can't find what I'm lookin' for, have to dig for the dick. But it's not like that with you. You're perfect for me. You're exactly what I want.

Grissom smiled and kissed Warrick's arm as it surrounded him. "Warrick, you are the only person I know who could make middle- aged spread seem sexy and romantic."

"But, I really think of you like that, sexy and romantic. With me, everything about you is all to the good. When and if you work up the nerve, I really wanna take you out and show you off. You're one helluva class act, Gil. You're a lightening rod of class, one of those suave, debonair, distinguished types. You radiate with all of that. Everyone sees it and you're not even aware of it. That's part of what attracts people to you, the way class comes natural to you. People get off on how intelligent and knowledgeable you are. At least, I know I do and always have. I respect you like nobody I've ever known, other than my grandmother. And there's that strong, silent type while carrying a big stick thing you've got going for you. That's sexy as hell. It's a suburban white guy's version of a bad boy persona. No way can I do that like you. I don't know of any young guy who can. We blow up and explode. Older guys who got it together do it different. You do this managed imploding thing and that's scarier. You do it good and I love it when you do. Every time I see you scare the fuckin' pants off Ecklie and the sheriff with that shit, I want to throw you down and screw the daylights outa you 'til you can't see straight. Or get you to do it to me."

"You do know how to get me excited, don't you?" Gil murmured as he continued to kiss the upper arm holding him near.

"Yeah, but that's not all there is to it. You might be just a tad emotionally repressed, but you deal with that good. Lots of us young guys don't know how to handle our emotions. We aren't finished and I include myself with that. Us young guys are only half done. I always wish I had the kind of self-control you do, although I wouldn't ever wanna be shut down like you sometimes are. But we younger guys can't match you older men, personality wise. No way in hell could I be with somebody like me, Gris. That'd either bore the fuck outa me or I'd haveta kill 'em. Man, if I had to live with someone like Greg chirping and bopping 'round me all the damn time or Nick's smiling face with his let's-all-get-along-and-become-sensitive, ultra understanding-modern-men-without-the-macho-bullshit jargon, I swear I'd go nuts."

Grissom had to laugh at Warrick's unique interpretation as to why he loved him instead of the younger men who had shown they might be interesting to or interested in him. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were just saying all of this to make me feel better about being older than you and so much nearer death's door in comparison."

"Uh-uh. That's not it and you know it. What it is, man, is I'd rather have my grouchy, gimme my space and let me the hell be otherwise kinda guy any day of the goddamn week, thank you very much. I'm getting too used to loving you and having you around. I can't think of living any other way anymore, I really can't. You're making me get set in my ways, when it comes to you. And know what?" With a grin, Warrick began gently twisting both Grissom's nipples through his shirt, which, if they had been in a more private area, would have instantaneously taken them from comfortable conversation to passionate foreplay. "I like it like that. I really, really do. I plan to never have it any other way."

Grissom cocked his head in that familiar, birdlike motion he had and said thoughtfully, nearly as if he had changed the direction of the conversation, "I love you, Warrick."

Warrick grinned, having no intentions of ruining their moment together by saying anything about how it was getting easier for Grissom to, from time to time, say that to him. "Yeah, Gil," was all he said in response. "I love you too." And that was all that needed to be said as far as Warrick was concerned.

But now that Grissom had gotten started, he wanted to tell Warrick everything he'd held bundled up inside. He licked his lip nervously and ended with, "I know you do, but I'm afraid I need more than that from you. I have to be sure no one matters to you as much as I do. I'm very selfish in many ways, Warrick. I don't want anything or anyone to be as important to you as I am. I don't want you to want anyone else as much as you want me. I don't want you ever turning to anyone to meet your needs except me. I know that's asking a lot of you and probably more than I'll ever be able to give back to you, but… that's how I am and can't help being. I'd say you have to take me or leave me as I am, but I'm afraid you might actually leave me, so I won't. Just know, if you ever walk out on me, I'm hauling your ass into court and asking for all the palimony I can get."

Grissom had tried for a playful lilt to his final statement, but it fell awkwardly flat on deaf ears. Warrick never heard, wasn't even going to listen to that and hadn't wanted to hear that, had long ago wearied of Grissom thinking like that. With one arm loosely about Grissom, his eyes had been boring relentlessly into Grissom, which made Grissom aware, more than anything else could have, exactly how much nonsense his last words had been.

This was HIS man and he wasn't going anywhere. Ever. Warrick had made up his mind about that a long time before Grissom had. Grissom was telling him nothing new. He was just telling him the gist of what he'd been waiting years to hear. Recognizing that, Grissom hesitantly stepped into him, began closing in, reaching for him, aching for him, suddenly avidly seeking him with lust, desire and love. Warrick met him more than half way.

"I think," Warrick said in a voice still husky but one gone soft and sexy as he pulled Grissom to him and began to slowly unbutton his shirt, "the time's finally right for me to prove to you what you and me together is made of, Gil. I've always loved you for what you were, but I'm starting to love you more for what you're becoming. More and more, every damned day, you're everything I want. You just made real good headway in getting that stick-up-the-ass you've been holding on to so tight outa my way. But man, you never totally let go of it. I've tried to forgive it, you've tried to forget it, but you've kept the handle handy. Just now, you made the admissions of love I've been waiting to hear for years, but you still got a ways to go. You've always been too reserved and polite, too well mannered and quiet whenever we've made love to suit my taste. I wanna change that. I wanna change that starting now. Just for me, just to make us better together, you're gonna lose that famous self-control of yours, man."

While efficiently undoing Grissom's belt then jerking his slacks open to slide a hand inside them, he inquired, already knowing the answer, "We've got three whole, uninterrupted days here, right? It's Thursday afternoon and we don't haveta go back to work 'til Sunday night, right? So c'mere," Warrick ordered as the arm he had around Grissom gently tugged him even closer and he dipped his head to brush full lips, tenderly and sensually, back and forth over his lover's. "Get ready for me, Gil Grissom. We're finta go animalistic. I'm gonna nuke you, man, I'm gonna burn your ass the fuck up. We're about to screw each other raw. Today, I'm gonna hear you howl. One way or the other, today, tomorrow and the day after that, I'm gonna make you scream."

Those words had thoroughly alarmed Grissom. Warrick had never said such a thing to him before and he did not want to hear it now. He was an authoritative person who felt it necessary to have complete control of himself and his surroundings, everything in his little corner of the world. He feared, above all things, having that control taken away.

Most alarming was the manner in which Warrick had looked, smelled and sounded as he said it. There is a state of precision and symmetry one can only obtain after being born with the proper genealogy then adding the adherence to proper diet plus intensive and extensive strengthening, cardiovascular and flexibility training. Warrick was fortunate enough to have all of that. Always handsome, after being weakened by being shot, having focused himself on reaching full health, his dedication had resulted in him surpassing that goal. He had become hard muscled, physical perfection, a man to have wet dreams about. Dangerously sexual and lethally lean now, his very nearness was overwhelming Grissom, forcing him to start copiously leaking in his shorts well before Warrick had even touched him.

He had just showered and was wearing an expensive cologne Catherine had bought him for his birthday, had opened to dab on him then experimentally sniff him. Afterward, enthusiastically, she had informed Warrick how damn good he smelled, a flirtatious comment which had excited Grissom's jealousy. But with Warrick currently pressed hard against him and only him, Grissom was in adamant, lustful, total agreement with her. The man had a wickedly wonderful scent that was a combination of cologne, freshly showered, cinnamon colored flesh, heated passion Warrick was stimulating in himself and Grissom and something indefinably and scrumptiously sensuous that was simply Warrick Brown and nothing else.

His eyes had filtered from their usual gleaming green, taken on darkening shadows of unbridled passion, the golden flecks in them shining through like beacons of pure, awe inspiring yearning. He was becoming something different, something primitive, someone who wouldn't have to commandeer control from Grissom, but meant to pleasure him until he gave it up.

All this, while the words he had just spoken had been delivered softly, sensually in an easy smiling, predatory growl that was causing continuous shivers of devastating desire to ride up and down Grissom's spine, each of which ended by zeroing in and focusing itself in his suddenly swelling, remarkable lively cock and balls.

Grissom was frightened. He was positive he could not handle this. He tried to step away and regain his equilibrium, murmuring, "Warrick, perhaps we should take this to the bedroom where we'll be more comfortable. We can…"

But Warrick put an abortive halt to that attempt at procrastination, circumventing it by tugging Grissom back in place and essentially snarling, "No we can't. We do this right now."

It began with Warrick's mouth coming down commandingly on his, a tongue heatedly seeking and receiving entrance, running deep, searching between his teeth, jaw and gums to so carnally caress everything there that Grissom had begun to feel faint. Then Warrick's lips had opened and sucked Grissom's just inside his teeth then nibble gently on them while concurrently easing inside Grissom's loosened trousers to take him in hand. Smiling because of that, swiping at the bubbling precoital rising fluid there, he spread it about to make the slippage of his hand smoother as he masturbated the older man, dexterously pulling and pushing pulsing, thickening flesh back and forth until Grissom's legs couldn't have supported him if Warrick had not been doing so.

Quite without the will or strength to do anything else, Grissom leaned into him, beginning to pant, head restlessly worrying Warrick's shoulder, arms up around his neck as he lost any capacity for connected trains of thought. His head jerked up, eyes actually opaque with lust and love, and he dropped his mouth onto Warrick's neck to bite down then avidly suck where he had bitten. It had to hurt, but Warrick did nothing to stop him. Moving about to do that several times in several different places, Grissom finally could not concentrate enough to continue. He was in the managerial hands of a man who was about to eat him up alive.

This part of their coming together was not working out like he had planned. He taken three days of personal leave and asked Catherine to cover for him while he was gone. He had also arranged for Warrick to have the same three days off and gotten one of the day shift guys to be available on-call to cover for Warrick if Catherine needed an extra hand. He hadn't wanted anyone from work getting in contact with either of them for any reason. His intentions had been for them to have plenty of time to set up the condominium they were buying together, satisfy his compulsion for orderliness by moving everything into its place, leisurely unpack boxes and begin the process of turning a house into a home.

It had not been on his mind to christen it with three days of nearly constant lovemaking.

But that was apparently Warrick's intentions and there didn't seem to be a thing Grissom could do about it. Turning inward to fully concentrate on his bodily sensations, he settled in to enjoy the pleasure only Warrick had ever been able to build in him. This was uncommon for him. He had never been able to do this with anyone else, but had trust enough in Warrick to let go of outward concerns and Warrick infinitely knew how to make that process exceedingly pleasurable. Grissom closed his eyes, sure he was about to reach that point of human internal combustion he had once helped Warrick and Sara prove false and explode into fiery flames if he was not allowed his forthcoming release.

Therefore, he was surprised into a spurt of anger when Warrick committed the unconscionable act of ceasing his hand motions just as Grissom was on the cusp of climax. His disappointment was so great, it added to his disorientation as he opened his eyes to discover he was in the midst of being backpedaled into the main bedroom and dumped onto the end of the bed. His shirt and jacket were swiftly removed and he was shoved back onto his elbows so Warrick could pull his pants off and kneel to finish undressing him.

As he looked down at the man kneeling between his bared legs and his socks and shoes were taken off, he was told, "Sorry about that, Gil, but you don't get to do your disappearing act on me. Not this time, man. You like to expound on your "I'm a ghost" routine, but today, we're men alive and you're gonna stick with me and reality. You're gonna stay with me all the way the next few days. I'm not gonna let you disconnect and ride off into some fantasy of me, like you say you do, when you've got the real thing right here, close and hand, ready and willing to do whatever turns you on, waiting to do this for ya better'n anything your imagination ever could, ever has or ever will come up with."

Warrick stood up to unzip, slide down and step out of his jeans and toe off his shoes as Grissom sat up to watch the abbreviated strip tease. While Warrick was crossing his arms to reach and tug his shirt up and off, with his head still entangled and trapped by it, Grissom slid to the end of the bed with a calculating smile. He grabbed Warrick's hips, opened his mouth and pulled Warrick's cock into it so quickly, Warrick's eyes widened while he gasped and froze in place. His normally unflappable cool completely displaced, for the moment, by the seething wet heat of that suckling and nipping oral cavity, Warrick tossed his shirt down and grabbed Grissom's head, bending slightly forward and crying out softly as Grissom gave him ample proof him he was not going to let Warrick be the only one in charge around here. Biting his lower lip, Warrick thrust gently, loving what was being done to him but knowing he could not let Grissom get away with this.

Breaking his own heart, he pulled back with a despairing and wrenching moan, freed himself from that superbly mobile mouth. Sighing soft, he explained, holding Grissom back as he sought to resume what he had been doing, "No. You're not gonna do it to me, Gil, not again. I won't let you get me so fuckin' excited I forget what I mean to do. Not this time. I'm onto you with that. I'm down with that game. I got that game of distraction. I may not be smart as you are, but I'm one helluva long ways from being stupid."

Pushing Grissom flat onto the bed, Warrick dropped to his knees and drew Grissom's cock into his mouth with a swiftness that surpassed Grissom's pulling him in, taking him down to the root with a single inhalation. Then, he worked him with a matchless expertise, applying an unrelenting suction which soon had Grissom twisting helplessly then struggling to sit up as he realized he was about to do more than concentrate on the sensations, but lose himself in them. Almost fearfully, he sought to reach for Warrick and slow him down so he could stay on top of what they were doing, keep himself from being buried in passion.

But Warrick knew what he was about and put both hands on his chest to shove him flat again, kept them there so Grissom couldn't move again. Then he rose into a squat to get better leverage to increase the up and down movements of his head at the same time that he began to squeeze and release Grissom's nipples. After a moment or so, he began drawing, over and over, the flesh around them into a mound and pulling everything to a peak that ended with him using his fingertips to pinch with a sharpness that took the pleasure just to the edge of sparkling pain.

While the pain still felt good, right before each series became uncomfortable, Warrick started the gentle squeezing and releasing once more. That action seemed to connect the thrills there to those Grissom felt down below and compound both as if there were direct nerve endings traveling from nipple to groin. He kept doing that with one hand while easing a long finger of the other between Grissom's buttocks to unerring locate and manipulate his prostate.

Due to all that, being held deliciously immobile and the simultaneous, energetic fellatio, Grissom fast approached a panicky point of no return. Frightened, he tried to form words that would get Warrick to at least slow down, let him loose to regain some sense of stability. But those words were so stuttered and garbled, Warrick either could not understand them or else, and more likely, simply chose to ignore them.

Warrick had never done it like this to him before. He had always followed Grissom's lead. Unfailingly, until this very moment, whenever Grissom had shown any signs of becoming uncomfortable or unsure, Warrick had ceased doing whatever he had been doing. But he did not and would not this time. He was finally showing Grissom the full extent of his sexual expertise as he had never done before. Once again, when Grissom attempted to sit up, Warrick held him fast as flares of brilliant, colorful illumination began to sear the inside of his tightly shut eyelids. These wheeled and whirled, engulfing him to eventually detonate into absolute white light.

From a great distance, he curiously heard someone keening loudly while ripping shudders of ecstasy repeatedly cut throughout him. They were so passionately powerful, he would, later on, wonder how he had possibly endured them. They were closer to seizures than shivers and seemed to go on and on and on as he poured his essence into Warrick's mouth. Warrick did not allow him satiation even then but vacuumed him out so completely, Grissom knew the voiding would surely have to result in him becoming dehydrated. It did not. Warrick gentled, aware of the moment just before Grissom's sensitivity approached discomfort, refreshingly draining him of built up stress and tension he had not known was in him.

Immediately after that, Grissom hadn't been able to make much sense of anything for several minutes. Flopped out wearily boneless, Warrick's mouth still on his increasingly less rigid cock but gnawing with tenderness now, Grissom's eyes snapped wide open as he had an enthralling, distinct impression he was floating outside and above himself, a supernatural astral separation he would never, ever forget. Before he became afraid of the atypical process, that incorporeal part of himself slipped back into his physical form with a mild snap that left him lying in an ocean of contentment. Disbelieving that it had really happened, the entire experience would become a permanent part of his fertile fantasy life until the day he died.

But Warrick wasn't done with him. As Grissom laid there, some small, scientific portion of his mind still capable of complex conjecture beginning to speculate on the why and how of what had just occurred, Warrick lifted his legs onto both shoulders and stretched out to strongly insert his tongue into Grissom's anus, another thing he had never done.

Grissom's body surged upward and shrieks of extreme pleasure were torn from his throat as that flickering tongue worked him over, digging deep and lashing hard at his prostate as Warrick's left hand palmed and massaged his balls and the right grabbed his softening penis to jerk him off again. Almost immediately and certainly incredibly, he was soon erect and orgasmic again. His ejaculation was much weaker this time, but, physically and emotionally, more intense, a startling rapid sexual renewal such as none he had ever undergone before.

Somebody was shouting without reservation or reluctance now, somebody nearby, somebody unknown to familiar to Grissom. However, for the life of him, he could not recognize who that graceless, much too uncaring for his privacy person might be. Before he could correctly evaluate the circumstances, his body gave up a last, seemingly endless sequence of steadily lessening spurts, finishing off his process of dehydration as well as blinding him into unconsciousness, another thing that had never happened to him during intercourse.

He awakened what he was positive had to be days later but learned was only twenty minutes to find himself lying in the middle of the spacious bed on a fresh cotton sheet overlaying the sticky one beneath it. He was totally at peace, arms and legs spread eagle, head resting on a feather pillow. He was nude and uncovered, the comforter having been folded back to the foot of the bed. A naked Warrick was kneeling on the bed next to him, first wiping him clean with a hot washcloth then gently rubbing a warming, sweetly scented oil into his skin. Drowsily, he tried to speak, but Warrick softly shushed him, ordered him to relax and be still and he obeyed. Lying there, voluptuously pleasured by the all over massage, he felt as if he was undergoing a milder version of his previous out-of-body experience.

Finally feeling that he had to say something to break through Warrick's abnormal silence, he asked, his own voice sounding distance and otherworldly to him, "Did I pass out?"

Warrick was smiling as he said, "Yeah. Yeah, you did."

"I… had heard about that happening to people, but never knew it was really possible."

"It is. I've seen it happen before. Usually, it's like that with someone who turns too far inward like you tend to do. You went into it 'til you couldn't see outside of it. It didn't hurt you, but was too intense and knocked you out."

"Oh. I see. Well, tell me something else, Ricky," Grissom sluggishly and indolently inquired, "At that gym you go to, do they have tongue exercising equipment? Yours is particularly long, tough, muscular and agile. You must've been working it out. That's the only way I can figure out how you could do what you did to me with it…"

Grinning, Warrick said without looking up from the tasks he was about, "I had plenty of practice and great teachers who did it to me then taught me how to do it them so I could do it to you. I didn't know and they didn't know, at the time, that was what they were doing, but it was. Now will you shut-up and let me get done here?"

"Of course, of course…" Grissom's voice drifted off, tranquil as his muscles were kneaded or tenderly pummeled and loosened from his shoulders to his toes until it seemed he had none. All of him, except that which promoted sensory sensations and reactions had become nonexistent. There came that close by, that mysterious person who had been making all kinds of gratified noise. This time, whoever he was, he started humming to himself, a joyous, life affirming sound that concluded with sleepy giggles, went silent for a passive moment then began again.

After awhile, Warrick stretched out beside him on his side, resting his head on an elbow, leaving one hand lying, with seeming inattentive carelessness, on Grissom's genitals as he asked with a mischievous note in his voice, "How you feelin', Gris? You're feeling awright, aren'tcha?"

"Oh, I feel magnificent," Grissom sighed, "I don't think I've ever felt this magnificent."

"That's good. That's real good." Warrick leaned down to take the lob of Grissom's ear between his teeth, biting on it lightly, flicking his tongue into the ear attached while smilingly inquiring, "You tired or anything?"

"Tired? No. Not at all…"

"You will be. Cause we're just getting started…"

Warrick's deliverance of foreplay was as slow and sensual, as complete and voluptuous as the massage had been, traveling from head to toe again with kisses and mouthing added to the caresses. Every time Grissom tried to move in an attempt to reciprocate, Warrick sternly informed him that wasn't allowed and pushed him onto his back. He was forced to lay prone while his body was shifted about by Warrick so he could apply hands and lips to every bit of it.

He turned all of Grissom into erogenous zones, even his ankles, his calves and the back of his elbows and knees. He kissed and prodded Grissom's ears, his eyes and throat until he was groaning and could not stop himself. He lifted Grissom's arms away from his body to bury his head in his armpits, pressing his tongue hard in that unusual area, tenderly pulling the short hairs then licking until Grissom whimpered with bliss and his heels began drumming on the bed as he arched, rotated and gyrated, unable to prevent himself from wriggling around.

To Grissom's amazement, this lovely treatment was getting him excited again, bringing on a burgeoning reaction. Noting this, Warrick grinned and moved to straddle his belly, sitting up straight above him on his knees. Then he reached behind himself, grabbed Grissom's cock and began sink down on it, slowly and carefully impaling himself on it. For a time, as Warrick, evilly grinning, filled himself to the hilt with Grissom, his boss and lover could not stir or speak, only stare wordlessly up as the man mounted upon him compactly sat down on him, finally settling with all of Grissom inside the tight heat of his previously lubricated rectal canal.

This was out-of-the-ordinary, not the usual manner in which it was done between the two of them. Very seldom had Warrick ever played bottom for Grissom, having little interest in that sort of sexual intercourse, and even less often had Grissom felt any need to top Warrick, since the younger man had the wherewithal of greater experience, stamina, skill level and was generally willing to do most of the work.

But, this was… perfection. Absolute, phenonmenal perfection. Then, when Warrick began to luxuriously lift himself up, only to set down skin-to-skin, sighing breathily as his eyes closed, clearly enchanted by his own actions that were so pleasing to Grissom, hence pleasing to him, perfection went beyond itself to obtain the richness of heavenly delight.

Grissom could not close his own eyes, forced them to remain open, wanting to clinically observe Warrick's budding pleasure as long as he possibly could. That wasn't long, for Warrick soon moaned, leaning forward in slow motion to rest his hands on the bed next to Grissom's shoulders, beginning to breath erratically. His thrusts abruptly lengthened, became irregular. Tentatively, his eyes never leaving Warrick's face, Grissom reached out to touch Warrick's cock. However, Warrick cried out, as if he was in agony, as soon as just a grazing contact was made and pushed Grissom's hand away, violently shaking his head and begging softly, "No. Don't do that. Not yet. Please don't do that yet. Don't make me go there yet. We're not finished with you yet."

But Warrick had gone too long without his own gratification to take much more of what he was doing to Grissom. It was clear he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. As he pumped on Grissom, he began to be shiny with perspiration, his strokes achieving an arrhythmic pattern. He paused, made an honest attempt to still himself a few seconds, hissing between his teeth, shutting his eyes tight, dropping his head and gritting his teeth, trying to maintain but knowing he could not and was about to fail.

But the failure was so very, very sweet….

Warrick's eyes opened, glittering emerald with golden heated sparks of fire in them. "Okay," he whispered at last. "I'm done. I can't do this anymore. With somebody else, yeah. But not with you. That's the kinda shit only you can do to me, Gil." Still, he grinned while adding, "But you're gonna go first, man, I swear you are. You've got to. I've got to see you go over the top first."

Thereupon, Warrick bent to swiftly kiss Grissom hard with a fiery passion then lunged backward, pushing himself, heart, body and soul onto the pulsating rod of flesh piercing him until it plundered the deepest depth of him and could go no further as he tightened his entire being around Grissom at the same time.

Grissom screeched aloud, his hands grabbing Warrick's thighs so tough, even as muscular as they were, they were left bruised. As Warrick quickened his movements, every bit of Grissom also began to quicken. He could not prevent himself from shouting out, could not stop his fingernails from curving into Warrick's flesh until they drew blood. Feverishly and unreservedly, Warrick rode him, forcing Grissom up and solidly out of himself for the first time in his entire life.

Grissom's yells turned thin and hoarse as he wildly shoved himself up against Warrick's plunges. Defying Warrick's edict that he do nothing, he sat up, forcing Warrick to sit up with him as he heatedly wrapped his arms about the younger man, needing the requirement to have the closeness of all of Warrick pressed up against him. He was whining aloud, feeling that delectable testicle tightening denoting an imminent explosion. But before that could occur, Warrick groaning deeply and came so long and strong, his seed splashed upward into Grissom's face and onto both their torsos and arms, even splattering their shoulders.

That was more than enough to sent Grissom toppling over the edge, joining him there. Grissom's ejaculate, having no place else to go other than the hot cavern in which his cock was encased, abundantly spilled inside Warrick, overloading him so it seeped from him, providing both of them with the final gratification and fulfillment of an unexpectedly dazzling and dizzying completion.

And, suddenly, as Grissom laid recovering, he underwent another exceptional and mysterious experience. It was not quite as unearthly as his sense of astral projection had been, but still most enthralling. Every one of his five senses shut down to all stimuli external to Warrick Brown.

Grissom could hear nothing. Nothing, that is, except Warrick's breathless moans of pleasure and those sweet, moist sounds coming from their joined lower bodies as Warrick lazily continued to move on him, unwilling to give up a sense of fullness which was currently more satisfying than he had ever imagined such a thing could ever be.

Grissom could smell nothing. Nothing, that is, except Warrick's cologne, body heat, their mutual muskiness and that funky odor produced by extended lovemaking as it layered itself over everything. Grissom had never been one for this sort of over-the- top, never cared for the sticky, sweaty aftermath. But, his olfactory senses were in a present paradise of aromatic delight. He suddenly wished to breathe in these pungent body odors forever, never gain freedom from them so long as they came only from himself and Warrick.

He could taste nothing. Nothing, that is, except the fading residual of Warrick's juices he had pulled from him during the brief period he had gone down on him and the sharp hint of blood from when he'd unknowingly bitten his own lip while caught up in the throes of his last orgasm.

He could feel nothing. Nothing, that is, except, at first, Warrick's body still firmly seated on and surrounding his cock and the wetness of his own sperm seeping out of Warrick. Then, so quickly that he could not follow the individual motions, Warrick rose onto his knees, picking himself off Grissom who flinched as his now flaccid cock hit the cooler air. Warrick was moving, hauling Grissom's legs straight up in the air, gripping himself and surging into Grissom, instantly slamming in deep and hard to fill his lover to the hilt as Grissom had just been filling him. He was too close to climax to do more than roughly thrust twice, which was positively all he could manage. Sitting rigidly upright with Grissom's legs cradled in his arms, held tightly and tenderly against his chest, quivering and shaking and sobbing in relief, he finished the cycle of his release. Then he gently kissed the arch of Grissom's left foot, opened his legs and crawled between them to collapse atop Grissom, unable to yet tolerate the thought of losing physical contact with him.

Grissom could see nothing and wanted to see nothing except the trembling, exhausted man in his arms who had dared love him when he had been at his most unlovable and insecure. Cradling Warrick with wonderment written on his face, he became convinced he would never be able to let go and determined to spend eternity assuring himself that Warrick would not want him to let go.

Too worn out to do or say anything else, Warrick promptly went out like a light, never moving from where he was crumpled on Grissom, the first time that had ever happened. Usually Warrick, not wanting to crowd Grissom overly much, therefore drive him back into his ancient, creaking shell of emotional seclusion, seldom slept a whole night in the same bed with Grissom, much less laid to cuddle with him after they had made love. Although they might sit close while sitting on the sofa and talking or watching the television during quiet evenings, even rest their heads in each other's lap, that had only infrequently continued after bedtime. On the rare occasions when they had bedded down together, Warrick, even in his sleep, would shift away at the first sign of restlessness in Grissom. But this night that did not happen and it was okay by Grissom.

Warrick had nothing to do with that, not precisely, for his eyes did not open again for hours. But only reciprocated trust let Grissom have no desire for him to move him and him to feel secure enough to stay put. Previously, Warrick had retreated to avoid such scenarios because he had always been unsure as to whether or not Grissom would refuse his nearness and did not want to put himself or Grissom through the wrenching pain explanations might cause. That was not a concern this night. Not once, did Warrick sense Grissom felt his space had been invaded.

When Warrick next woke up, it was a little after two in the morning and he discovered he was still partially lying on Grissom. The insane stranger had returned. Grissom laid serenely humming to himself, gentle hands playing inquisitively with Warrick's curly hair, running along his ear lobes and stroking his face. It was very comforting for both of them. Warrick sighed and sank into the caresses, awake but not yet wanting to open his eyes and end an event based on what he had once assumed Grissom might never be able to do for him, be loving without hesitation or verbally express that loving.

So he nearly stood up on the bed to jump up and down and pump his fist in triumph when the first words, apparently planned, out of Grissom's mouth as he realized Warrick had awakened, were, "I love you, Ricky. I've wanted you since the first day I met you and loved you since not long after that. I should've been telling you that every day, but didn't. I still may not be able to tell you that every day, but I need you to know the eternal truth of my love. You may not always hear the words from me but I will love you forever. You're part of me. You are my mate. We're bound together for life. Remember that, if I never again say I love you. I will try to remember to say it, but might forget. I know you'll always be saying it to me more than I will to you. But never doubt my love, Warrick. That is not allowed. Never, ever doubt my love."

"I don't," Warrick said on a yawn, blinking his sleepiness away, trying to keep everything casual, the better to let Grissom know it was safe to reveal himself and there would be no smothering, smoldering angst for him to deal with. "I never have and never will." He rolled away onto his back. "God. I'm still tired."

"You should be. Yesterday was… beyond belief. My throat hurts. It's raw. I'm in desperate need of lozenges. Do you make it a practice to arrange matters so your bed partners holler loud enough to wake the dead, not to mention their new neighbors?"

"Nope. I don't. But I wanted you to get off and get off good." Warrick laughed softly as he reached out to lightly punch Grissom's shoulder then slide his hand into Grissom's, interlacing their fingers. "Mission accomplished, huh?"

"Most infinitely."

"Well, it's only the beginning. We got two more days to really do it to it."

Grissom smiled. "I'm a tad older than you and too out of shape, so I might not be able to do much more. But, umm, I could still be a willing recipient of your talent. I still wouldn't mind a bit more of your unique tongue action. That was very… entertaining."

"Yeah? You liked that, didja? Hey, I'm a little disappointed in myself. I'm out of practice. My rimming action could stand some improvement. I didn't do it long enough. Next time, I'm gonna make you cum doin' just that. We can work on that later on today."

"Maybe we can TRY to work on that later on today," Grissom corrected. "One does have to slow down as one ages. Wouldn't want me to have a stroke or heart attack in the middle of us having sex, would you? Besides," Grissom made a test motion and grimaced, "although you were only in me for a few seconds, you were on fire and a tad… forceful. You definitely made your presence known. Accordingly, I'm rather sore in my nether region."

"Aw, man, that's good for ya. I promise to make it all better. There's ways to make a little bit of pain feel good to ya so you'll want some more of it. And, hey, you're not the only one who's sore. Having you up in my ass all that time was kinda like riding the horn of a mechanical bull set on high. You kept bucking like you were trying to throw me off while at the same time your hands were holding me down." Warrick bent a knee to pointedly, indignantly and boyishly indicate an injured thigh. "Look at what you did to me, man. It's gonna be weeks before these go away."

"Well, you shouldn't have forced me into losing my head and being unable to think," Grissom informed him, reaching down to gently pat the aforementioned wounds with tender fingertips. "Besides, while this was unintentional on my part, I have no regrets. You now have a matching set for these." Grissom smiled and brushed the numerous hickeys he had put on Warrick's neck with a proprietary hand. "You may," he declared gravely and playfully, "regard yourself as thoroughly claimed, Warrick Brown. These marks, I must previously notify you, I will add to. But I'd never consciously throw you anywhere that puts distance between us. The nearer you are to me, the better." Saying that, Grissom gripped Warrick's shoulder to roll him back to where he had been before, lying on top of him. Then he wrapped his arms around him, kissed him then held on tight for an instant. "Right here, as close to me as I can get you, is where you belong."

"Bout time you admitted that," Warrick growled.

Grissom smiled as he got them comfortable and said, "When I got this place, I was positive it'd be best for both of us to have our own rooms and personal space. Now, I'm not so sure. After holding you last night and this morning, I feel that you'd be too far from me in the other bedroom. So, you may have your own room, but you won't be using it much. I'm pretty sure I'll be wanting you right here next to me most of the time."

"Won't matter," Warrick told him, nuzzling under Grissom's chin. "If I'm in my bed, just join me. Any time you want me, wherever I'm at, just grab me. If you don't, can't, won't or just ain't in the mood, that's all right. I've never minded giving you your space and I'm not about to start now. All this was about me just wanting, for once, to connect all the way with you. So, I did. And Gris, I haveta tell ya, it was easier to do than I thought it'd be. I figured you'd run like hell when I started pulling you outa yourself, but you didn't."

"I didn't because you did it right, Ricky. Our first connection was a physical. I had to put us both through serious heartache and changes before I clarified in my own mind the importance of our emotional connection. I had to learn how terribly lonely life would be without you before I could accept it was more than your body I wanted. But physically, we've always connected without any problems. Because that was the direction you took it, I could go with it easier." Grissom kissed Warrick as he said, "I think I'm ready to continue on in that direction, if you're willing and able."

"Oh yeah, I'm that. But…," Warrick did a fast count, doubling up on his right hand as he got to his feet, pulling Grissom up as well with his left. "What we got here? There're eight more spaces in this place, including the terrarium, patio, garage, kitchen and laundry room that needs to be indoctrinated, aren't there? Whatdaya say we start warming up with what you told me is my bedroom? If we get going now, we might be able to work our way through one or two of the others before that real estate lady gets here with papers for me to sign."

"I gather that means you're agreeing that we're in this for the long haul, then?"

"Never been any doubt, Gil, not for me. For me, there's no more doubts, no more questions." All I ever needed for my last question to go away was to hear you scream my name from the heart, from your soul and I got that from you. You did that for me."

"I did that?"

"You did that. You did that for me."

As Grissom followed Warrick, hand-in-hand, to the other bedroom, he said, smiling faintly, "You can have more of that, if you want."

"You're damn straight I do." As they neared the other bed, Warrick suddenly and impulsively picked Grissom up bodily under his armpits as if he was weightless and held him above his head at arm's length for as long as he could, laughing up at him, green eyes glittering up at him. This caused Grissom to experience a moment of extreme disorientation and uncertainty as his feet left the floor. He had not, like most adult males, been picked up by anyone since he had been a very small child and the sensation of being freed from gravity was both frightening and thrilling. But, looking down at Warrick's grin, realizing how totally he trusted the other man never to drop him, never to hurt him, the negative feelings simply faded, leaving only the thrill.

Warrick was still laughing with Grissom dangling in the air and resting his hands on muscular forearms as a look of amazement turning into a loving and confident smile. Then Warrick tossed Grissom onto the bed and crawled up to him, saying again, "You're damn straight I do. I want that and everything else there is to you, good and bad. So, give it up, Gris. Give it all up. We're about to get busy and stay busy for the rest of our lives."