Title: Quivering
Author: ScribbleDream
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Takes place after Stalker. Nick is pretty shaken up when he gets a midnight visit from someone he wasn't expecting... SLASH MUCH! But not graphic.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine and it has taken me months of therapy to admit that.
Authors Notes: It is a day of firsts! My first CSI fic, AND my first slash fic. I rather enjoy this pairing. It makes me smile :D

***

Nick stood in his dark living room, staring at the ceiling. He clutched his gun in his left hand but his arm hung limply at his side. He wonder if he would have the strength to raise it, if the need should arise.

He was being crazy, paranoid, and he knew it. Nigel Crane had done this to him. Crane had said he didn't want Nick to forget his name, and Nick knew he never would. But he would also never forget the fear that was now attached to it, the fear that Crane had given him. A fear that he was not used to. He hated being afraid, especially when it was an unreasonable fear like this.

His eyes slowly drifted from the ceiling to look around the room. It was neat, clean, orderly. He'd stayed home from work that day and cleaned up the mess that Crane had made by throwing a man through his ceiling. He hadn't been able to repair that, though, nor did he want to go to that floor and see what weird things Crane had done while he was up there. He watched me while I slept...

Nick's head snapped to his door whn he heard movement from the hallway. He listened carefully, but there was no more sound. One of his neighbors, probably, going out for the night. No need to be worried. Nick allowed his muscles to relax, but tensed them again at a knock on the door.

Slowly, he stepped toward the dooor, raising his gun. Another knock, harder this time, and someone rattled the locked doorknob. Nick quickly undid all the locks, trying to make as little noise as possible. Then, like a lightning flash, he swung open the door and shoved his gun into the dark hallway, in the face of an unknown assailant.

Someone stepped back and their hands went up in the air by their face as though surrendering. "Whoa, man, take it easy!"

Nick's jaw tightened as he brought his gun down. "Jesus, Greg, scare me to death why don't you?"

Greg stepped forward and poitned to himself. "Me? I scared you? Says the guy with the gun pointed at my head!"

Nick chose to ignore that and asked, "What are you doing here, Greg?"

He stepped aside and allowed Greg to sidle into the apartment. "Came by to see what's going on. I'm allowed to do that, aren't I?"

"No," Nick said simply. Greg didn't pay any attention. Instead, he was looking around the apartment grinning.

"This is a nice place," he said, nodding. "Little too clean, though, for a young guy living alone."

Nick decided not to touch on that.

Greg's face sombered a little, but only a little. His smile still remained, but it was smaller, more nervous. Nick wondered if Greg could ever really be somber. Trying not to laugh was probably about as serious as Greg got.

"So, you doin' all right?" Greg inquired, almost hopefully. Nick shrugged.

"I'm fine."

"You cold?"

Nick raised an eyebrow. "No, why?"

"Because you're shivering."

Nick blinked hard once and tensed visibly. "I'm not shivering," he said, but realized he was lying about half-way through the sentence.

Greg shrugged. "Quivering, then."

"I'm not quivering, either."

"Look, I know you're freaked out, but you don't have to lie..."

"I'm not freaked out!"

It wasn't until he saw Greg's eyes widen that Nick realized he'd been shouting. He relaxed his shoulders and looked away. "I'm sorry, Greg, I didn't mean to..."

"Nick, please, chill," Greg said. "Crane is in jail, it's not like he can come after you again."

Nick glared at him. Did Greg think he didn't know he was being completely unreasonable about this? "Why're you here, Greg?"

Greg obviously knew he'd said something wrong because he looked at the ground when he answered. "Sarah and Warrick and everybody were worried when you didn't come in for work this morning. So was I, I mean, we all were and I..."

Nick studied his face and to his surprise saw real remorse there. Before he could say anything, though, Greg continued.

"I know you're going through something and I just thought you might wanna talk or something. I didn't mean to make things worse."

Nick noticed how really innocent he looked. He'd always thought Greg was a little green, but he'd never seen this level of naivety in his features. It made him smile.

"Do you want to sit down?" he asked, motioning towards his couch. Greg smile, too, and aceepted. "You thirsty? Hungry?"

"Nah. Don't bother." Greg aved his hand dismissivly. "I really just came by to see how you were, not to get free food. Although, that aspect was not completly stricken from my mind."

Nick rolled his eyes and sat down beside him. They were both silent, lost in their own thoughts. Nick's drifted back to Nigel Crane, to the picture that he couldn't get out of his mind. A gun staring him down while he stood in a pile of rubble with a man's limp body below him. But he viewed all of it from above, from the ceiling, as though he'd been a floating third party. And he wasn't afraid... until he realized that it was himself he was looking down on.

"You know," Greg blurted out, suddenly breaking the silence, "I've never had a gun in my face. I've never even held one." He laughed almost bitterly and looked at his hands in his lap. "How do you handle it?"

Nick gave a crooked smile, but his eyes were sad and slightly out of focus. "Very slowly."

Greg laughed dryly again. "I heard this Crane guy was kind of fixated on you."

Nick's eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Yeah, he was."

"That'd be a little creepy."

"Um... duh?"

"No, I mean another guy watching you. It's a little... unnatural."

"Why would it make any difference if it was a guy or a woman?"

"I dunno... a woman watching me would be pretty hott." Greg grinned.

"You are very sexually deprived," Nick said.

"Oh come on! Don't tell me you don't think a guy watching you is a little questionable?"

"Are you a homophobe, Greg?" Nick laughed.

"No! No," Greg said, defensively. "Well, maybe a little."

Nick looked at him again through the corner of his eye. He was avoiding looking at him. That innocence was showing again, on his face, in his eyes. It was endearing, almost... cute. And cute was not a word Nick was normally comfortable with.

"Did you know nine of ten homophobes are gay themselves?" Nick said. Greg looked at him.

"I don't think I like that statistic."

"Well, you know you can't just ignore it. Maybe you're a homophobe because you're scared to admit who you really are," Nick suggested with a one-shoulder shrug.

"Or maybe I'm not gay?"

"Well, that would ruin some stuff for me."

Nick was surprised at himself for saying that. Greg also seemed rather surprised, since he raised his eyebrows and backed away a little.

"Um, uh, okay. Well, that's just... all right."

"Greg, come on," Nick sighed. "I thought you wanted to talk."

"I do. Just not... about... this."

"You've never had doubts about your sexual orientation?"

"Not with my co-worker, I haven't."

"Fine, maybe I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable. I just..." Nick sighed. "I didn't mean to say that. Really."

"I... okay. But, why didn't you mean to say that?" Greg said. "Am I not attractive enough for you?"

Nick didn't know how to answer that, not with words. But before he knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and kissed Greg.

At first Greg tensed and tried to back away, but as soon as Nick's tongue touched his lips, he relaxed a little. Nick's hand worked it's way to the small of his back. Surprised at the motion, Greg tensed again, and fell backwards onto the couch.

Nick pulled away. Greg was panting slightly. Nick grinned at him. "Are you afraid of me, Greg?"

"Y-yes," Greg admitted. "But not as afraid as I thought I would be."

Nick bent down again, and started kissing Greg's neck. Greg's heart beat thudded against his lips quickly. Greg was still panting, the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest almost soothing to Nick.

Greg's mind was racing. What was he thinking? Why had he come here? Had he secretly been wanting this to happen? Was he really... like this?

Suddenly, Greg pushed Nick off of him and stood up, looking down at him with scared eyes.

"What is it?" Nick asked. "I didn't do something, did I?"

"Please," Greg said. "I should leave. You're just... you're not well and I should never have come."

"Greg...?"

"I'm not... I'm not gay, Nick. I'm not."

"Okay then."

"I'm not!" he yelled, forgetting himself and falling to his knees. Nick quickly went to sit by him.

"Are you okay? Greg?" he asked, touching his shaking shoulder. "You're quivering."

"I'm not gay..." Greg said again, looking at the carpet. Nick took the younger man, a boy really, in his arms and slowly rocked him.

"It's okay, Greg, I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry."

Greg looked up at him with sorrowful eyes. "I just... it never even really crossed my mind that I might be..."

"I know."

"Did you... I don't even know what's going on." Damn it, Greg thought. I came over to check on him and I've made it all about me.

Slowly, tenatively, Greg reached up and touched Nick's face. Pulling him slowly by the back of the head, he brought his lips to his own. Nick slowly opened his own mouth and allowed Greg to slip inside, which he did very gently. It wasn't like Nick's own, rough kiss. Greg was probing and shy, and Nick could sense his fear. Greg didn't move his hand from the other man's head, and Nick began to allow himself to drop Greg backwards onto the floor.

Nick pulled away again, looking down at Greg with a sad gentle smile and kissed his forehead. It made Greg start to quiver again. Nick rubbed his arms, trying to warm him up.

"Don't be scared, Greg," he whispered. "Don't be scared of me."

"I'm n-not," Greg stuttered. He reached up his hand and touched Nick's face. Nick bent down and wrapped Greg in his arms. "For the first time, I don't think I'm scared."

***

Greg woke up with a start, and he didn't know where he was. That happened to him a lot when he slept in a new place. It took him a minute to register exactly what was going on, and then yet another minute to figure out why he had his arm around Nick Stokes's waist.
The images of the previous night flitted through his head. Nick kissing him. Greg losing it completely, and then kissing him back. The two of them falling asleep in Nick's bed.

Too bad I didn't take his offer for a drink, Greg thought. I could have blamed it all on a drunken stupor. That excuse is out the window.

Greg looked over at the sleeping form next to him. He still had a bandage on his forehead. Greg had the sudden urge to bend over and kiss it, but he didn't. He tried to pull his arms away from Nick, but he couldn't. Either Nick was too heavy to pull his arm out from, or Greg had lost all of his heterosexual will. Or both.

"What the hell did I do?" Greg asked himself. Nick grumbled a little in his sleep, which made Greg smile. "What is my mother going to think?"

The thought made him cringe, and very slowly, he pulled his left arm out from under Nick's side. Nick made some sputtering noises and rolled over onto his back. Greg took his chance and got up from the bed quickly.

He looked down at his bare chest, surprised to find that he was still wearing jeans, complete with a belt. He didn't know those were comfortable to sleep in. You learn something new everyday.

He scanned the floor for his T-shirt and found it lying on a chair. He pulled it over his face, adjusting himself. He looked around the room for his socks, realized he was wearing them, and mentally reminded himself that he was a moron. Taking one last look at Nick lying on the bed breathing softly, he escaped out of the apartment.

Nick rolled over and was surprised to find an empty place next to him. Where'd Greg go? He remembered waking up in the middle of the night and seeing him there, sleeping with his arms around Nick. At first he thought he'd dreamed the whole night up in his over-imaginative head, but the bed beside him was definetly slept in.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his temples. Maybe he was in the living room? No, he'd definetly have the TV on if he was. The kitchen? No noise from there, no pans banging together or anything. Hmm.

Did he leave?

Nick didn't have any current evidence to prove that was what happened, but he knew it was true. Why the hell would he leave without saying a word? Well, he had been so shook up last night... Still, nothing made him stay the night. He could have just left. Greg had wanted to be there just as much as Nick had wanted him there. That little lab rat was going to be getting a piece of his mind today.

No, that'd just be stupid to have a lover's quarrel at work. They weren't even really lovers! They hadn't done anything, just kissed. And it wasn't that big of a deal. Except of course, that they were co-workers, and, oh yeah, they were both guys.

"What the hell was I thinking?" Nick muttered to himself, holding his heads between his legs. "It's Greg Sanders, for Christ's sake! He's like... a baby"

Suddenly, the phone rang. He leaned over and took it from his nightstand. "What?" he demanded, sounding harsher than he meant.

"Whoa, hey, Nicky, didn't mean to catch you on a bad day." Warrick. Nick sighed.

"Sorry. What is it?"

"Just checking up on you," Warrick answered. Nick could just see the confusion on his face.

"I don't need to be checked up on," Nick said.

"I know that, man, I'm just worried." Warrick laughed a little. "That probably didn't help either."

"Not really, no."

"Come on, Nick, I have a right to be a little worried."

Nick didn't respond. He didn't really have anything to say to that. It was too early to even think about it really.

"I'm also supposed to ask if you'll be coming in to work tonight," Warrick added. "For Grissom."

"Good to see he cares about my well-being."

Warrick sighed audibly. "He does, Nick, but you know Griss."

"Yeah. Whatever. I'll be in."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later."

"If you're at work you will." And he hung up without another word.

Head back in his hands, he shut his eyes tight. I don't need this right now, Greg Sanders. I really don't.

Greg walked down the sidewalk. It was really early, but there were still a few people abroad. No one looked at him in his ordinary T-shirt and faded jeans and old sneakers. He wasn't even sure where he was headed. To his apartment, maybe? He should have gotten a taxi or something, but he just needed to walk. It was theraputic for him.

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, and he ignored everything around him except the sidewalk in front of him. He was deep in thought. The guys would laugh at that one, he said to himself. Me, thinking. Who would have imagined it?

Of course, he had quite a lot to think about.

As he thought about the previous night's event, all he could was shake his head. I kissed another guy. I freaking kissed another guy. What's my mother gonna think?

Why the hell do I keep thinking that?

He was confused about himself. Was he gay or straight? Or both? He was sad for Nick, guilty because he'd left him liking there, treating everything like a stupid one-night stand. He felt useless. He didn't stay with Nick when Nick needed him. He was a coward.

All of these confusing feelings just mixed inside his head, making him angry. He hated it when he couldn't understand himself. He was pretty primitive with emotions, as far as humans go, and it made him feel like an idiot when he couldn't decipher his own brain.

He passed by a bar that was just closing. A few scragglers were drifing out as the bartender cleared up. One of them, drunk as hell, ran into Greg as he passed by. The man obviously thought that Greg had been the cause of this and muttered under his breath, "Damn fag."

Greg, unfortunately, heard this, and before he knew what he was doing, he spun around and hit the man in the face.

The man stumbled and almost fell over. He clung to his jaw. He looked up at Greg menacingly. Greg's eyes were wide and he stood completely still, desperately wishing that he could sink into the ground.

The man took a drunken swing. Greg backed up a little, but it still clipped his shoulder pretty hard. The man lumbered forward and jumped on Greg. He struggled to get out from under him, but couldn't twist away. He kicked and punched and hit as hard as he could, but the man was a lot bigger than Greg.

Thankfully, some, less intoxicated people rushed over and pulled the guy off of him and helped him to his feet. They, whoever they were, had to hold the man back.

"Let me at the little fag!" he shouted, struggling.

Greg lunged forward, but was caught by another person. "Shut up! Shut up, you drunken bastard!"

A police officer ran over from across the street. He flashed his badge to everyone. "Hey, all right, nothing to see here, fun's over," he said. He turned to the drunk man. "You'd better get on out of here, sir, or I'll have to take you in. Just a warning for now."

The man stumbled off, helped along by some of his friends who had pulled him off of Greg. The officer turned to Greg now. "Are you all right, son?"

Greg was staring after the man. He gave a slow nod. "I'll be fine."

"You need a ride anywhere?"

"No, I'm fine," Greg muttered, unable to tear his eyes to look the officer in the face. "Really."

"All right, son, you watch yourself."

The officer walked away and Greg ran down the sidewalk. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't care. He crossed a street, two streets, three. Countless. The world was blurry. The world was wrong.

He stopped. Greg looked around himself, recognizing nothing except the sky above him, and even then it looked unfamiliar and foreign. The sun had risen half an hour or so ago. The clouds were visible, wispy, elongated. He searched for some familiar shape in them, but they were all alien to him.

What the hell had he done? He cared about Nick, he really did. Last night had proved that. But we he really... he couldn't even think it. Maybe he shouldn't have hit that guy for calling him a fag. He might very well be... one of those. But wouldn't he have known that all his life? Is that all it took to turn him gay, one kiss from one guy who he'd known for over a year? Is that all that he needed? He'd never felt this way, never looked at anyone like that before. Not a guy anyway. And even with Nick, it had only started last night. At least that's what he thought.

I'm kidding myself, Greg thought. I've always known. Inside, I've always known.

Greg looked down from the cloud he'd been staring at, at the streets and the lights People walked passed him, not even noticing the skinny little man with his hands in his pockets, with his spikey hair, with his forlorn smile. Because he was smiling. Smiling because for once, he knew who he was. And for once, he was going to stop hiding from it and do something about it. For once... he was going to be brave.

For once he was going to tell someone what he felt about them. And if that someone was another man... so be it.

***

Nick threw his keys into his apartment and they hit something with a ping. Nick didn't know what they hit, and he didn't go to find out. He let his coat fall to the floor in front of the door. He didn't even know why he'd gone into work. Everyone had tiptoed around him, gone out of their way to ask him how he was, and in the process, not let him get any work done. Even Grisson had told him to "take it easy." Nick didn't want to take it easy. Nick wanted to catch murderers and rapists and theifs and whatever else was out there to catch, and he wanted to forget about Nigel Crane. And his co-workers and boss were not helping to that goal.

Greg hadn't come to work. Grissom had been pissed, because he had to call in one of the other lab techs from day shift, who was also pissed at being moved. Nick had been pissed because everyone was coddling him, which made Warrick pissed because he was working with him. Catherine was pissed because she was always pissed, and Sara was probably the only one in a semi-good mood. Keyword: semi-good. Without Greg there, there was no one to make them laugh. He really was important. No wonder Grissom never let him take vacation days.

Nick flicked on the lights and made his way to his bed room, noting for future reference that his keys had landed next to one of the lamps by his couch. He'd need to find them in the morning, and didn't have time to go rooting around because he'd forgotten which direction he'd thrown them.

As soon as he entered his bedroom, he froze. The bed was still unmade, the sheets thrown haphazardly everywhere. There was a little indintation in the mattress where Greg had slept on his side, closest to the door, and another one where Nick had slept next to him. The bedroom was haunted with memories, and Nick didn't feel like he could handle those memories right now.

He walked back into the living room, grabbed his keys, picked up his coat, and left, slamming the door much harder than he'd meant to. He cringed at the sound, and walked briskly down the hallway. Down the front steps, down the sidewalk. Everything was down. Fitting, slightly, Nick mused.

He wondered what he'd do the next time he saw Greg. Chew him out for leaving? Apologize for putting him in that situation? Kiss him again? Boy, he wanted to, but he probably wouldn't. He'd probably keep his head down and only speak when necessary.
Nick looked across the street. The houses were all in a row, orderly and neat. Constant. Nothing was constant in his life, except those houses in their cute little rows with their cute little bushes and lawn ornaments. They had always been there, since he'd moved there, and they always would be if he had anything to say about it. Not that he would. Now that he thought about it, they weren't really that constant at all.

Nick looked back in front of him, and wandered down the sidewalk. A taxi drove by, and he motioned for it. It stopped. He told the driver to take him to a coffee shop he often went to, just for the hell of it. It would probably be closed, or it might just be empty. Nick didn't really care. He was only going somewhere to be somewhere, not as if there was any point. He could have gone anywhere and it wouldn't have mattered. No where was important to him at the moment. No where was home.

Greg was determined, like he'd never been, and when Nick got out of the taxi in front of the coffee shop, his heart jumped. He realized he hadn't thought much farther than this. He considered yelling Nick's name, but he didn't want to risk him just getting in the cab again and driving away. He waited patiently until Nick paid and the taxi had driven down the block, and then he approached.

"Nick," he said, his voice choking in his throat. Nick turned around and didn't look surprised to see him. He didn't look anything, in fact.

"I'm not sure that I want to talk to you," Nick said, and he really did sound unsure. His voice had lost it's edge, and he was talking so quietly that it was hard to detect his accent. Greg gave a weak smile.

"I wouldn't want to talk to me, either," he said. "Fortunately, I don't have that dillema, seeing as I try not to talk to myself too much anyway. Sometimes I slip up, though, and it's usually right when someone's coming into the lab to talk to me. Serendipity, I suppose, but I still wish it wouldn't happen."

Nick smiled in spite of himself. He could tell that Greg was nervous, ranting like that. "It must have taken a lot of courage to come talk to me," he wondered, aloud, mostly to himself. Greg nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, it did!" he said. He looked up at Nick and sighed. "I just... I'm sorry. I was scared. I shouldn't have left... but I did. You have to understand."

Nick didn't say anything. He just looked solemnly down at the younger man, with his cute, puppy-dog eyes. He was begging, Nick decided. Begging Nick to forgive him. Nick still wasn't sure that he could do that.

"You lied," Nick said, finally, his soft voice rising. "You told me you weren't scared of me, and then you left without even saying good-bye. What the hell am I supposed to think?"

Greg looked at the ground. It was his turn to say nothing.

"I know you're sorry," Nick continued, "but I'm not sure if I'm ready to forgive you yet. I'm not sure if you're really sorry, or if you're just saying this now so things don't have to be awkward between us."

"Don't you think they will be awkward between us anyway?" Greg said. "At least for a while. I'm new at this, Nick. I didn't know what to do. I-I freaked. I'm sorry. Really sorry. I'm not just saying that."

"I'm not sure there's much you can do to prove that to me," Nick said, and walked brisking passed him, into the coffee shop. Greg grabbed his arm, but Nick pulled it away. He stopped for a moment. He looked over his shoulder. Greg was staring at him, imploringly.

"This was more than a one-night stand, Greg," Nick said. "Even if it only lasted one night."

"It doesn't have to," Greg said, but Nick was already gone. Greg stood for he didn't know how long, just staring at the ground. He could have stayed there forever. He couldn't feel his heart beating in his chest. He couldn't feel himself breathing. Nick hadn't broken his heart, Nick had grabbed it from his chest and thrown it as far as he could.

Of course, that's probably what you did to him, too, Greg thought. He looked up. He was still determined, he decided. He wasn't about to give up so marched into the coffee shop. Nick was still sitting at a table, ignoring the cup of coffee in his hands. He didn't notice Greg come in. Before he knew what he was doing, Greg swooped down to connect their mouths.

Nick nearly screamed, until he realized who it was. He calmed, and then nearly screamed agian, until Greg silenced him with his tongue. He wasn't shy anymore, he wasn't scared. He was sturdy, strong, everything Nick needed, all rolled up into one kiss. He was constant.

Greg pulled away. People were staring at them, but he didn't care. He barely even noticed. Nick had his mouth open. It was comical. It almost made Greg laugh.

"Did I prove anything to you?" he asked. Nick smiled a crooked smile and laughed.

"Yeah," he said. "You proved a lot."

FINISHED

***