TITLE: He Loved Saturdays
BY: TresMaxwell
WARNINGS: M/M (PWP: Porn Without Plot or also known as Plot What Plot?)
RATING: NC 17
ARCHIVES: If you'd like, just let me know and give me credit...
FEEDBACK: Feed the hungry writer...
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters of CSI, they belong to CBS and all of the creators. The story idea is entirely mine. Don't bother suing me, I live in a cardboard box in the gutter, or at least my mind does...

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Afternoon light was slanting through tightly shut curtains. It always managed to get in, no matter how hard the thick cloth tried to keep it out. Fortunately, by the time the sun found the right angle to peak into the quiet townhouse, the occupant inside was already moving. It was so rare that the light of day ever got a chance to see the elusive, nightshift CSI.

Gil Grissom, head CSI at the Las Vegas Crime Lab, stretched lazily and regarded the invading light with drowsy, blue eyes. It took his groggy mind a moment to realize that he'd woken up on his own accord and that the headache inducing alarm-clock on his bedside table was blissfully silent. It was Saturday.

He loved Saturdays.

The first time Gil decided to take a Saturday off, several months ago, the entire team had gaped at him. Dr. Grissom was a man who was married to his work and the concept of him taking a day off for himself was almost too much to handle. He somehow managed to convince them that he wasn't ill and that he wasn't taking the time for a convention or lecture.

That day off had been a whim, but he'd enjoyed it so much that he'd decided to make Saturday his official day off. He was still on call for really bad cases, but, for the most part, the day was his.

A year ago, Grissom would have scoffed at the idea of him taking a break from work, but recent developments changed his view on the situation. It really wasn't so much the developments themselves, as a person involved in the developments. This person had cropped up as a complete surprise in a life full of regular patterns and set schedules. Gil was a creature of habit and introducing a lover into his concrete routine was something that he'd deemed impossible by the time he entered his forties.

A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he slid an arm across the mattress in search of his lover. He really didn't expect the younger body to be there, but he thought he'd check before he rolled out of bed. The other side was indeed empty and he could smell the rich odor of coffee wafting from the kitchen.

Gil swung his feet off the edge of the bed and started the hunt for a pair of pants. He slid on some flannel pajama pants before heading out. The sight that greeted him when he stepped into the kitchen caused a sly grin to cut across his face. There wasn't much that his young lover could do that wasn't sexy, but Gil would say that Nick was deliberately teasing him today.

It wasn't anything he was currently occupied with, because making toast usually wasn't a sexy affair, but it was the attire that made Gil raise an eyebrow in appreciation. Nicholas Stokes was standing in front of the counter in nothing but one of Grissom's large, button-down shirts. The plaid cloth barely covered the essentials, leaving little room for the imagination, especially concerning Nick's long, powerful legs. Gil let an appraising eye wander over his lover's lean frame as he crossed the room to him.

Despite being visually stripped from behind, Nick remained oblivious to Grissom's presence until a pair of strong arms took possession of his waist. He grinned a big, sexy, Texas grin and leaned back against the man behind him. "Mornin' you," Nick murmured softly as Gil administered a kiss to the back of his neck.

"Morning back. Tell me, why do you have to tease me so early?"

Nick rolled his head back on Gil's shoulder, so he could give him a lopsided smile, and said, "Well, I just couldn't find anything else to wear. That and, I figured you'd want me undressed at some point in the day anyway, so why put on too much?" He turned his attentions back to the toast and added, "I like wearing your shirts."

Gil chuckled and nuzzled just beneath his lover's ear, inhaling the scent of aftershave and yesterday's sex. He always enjoyed the smell of Nick, and the feel of Nick, and the... Well, he really just liked Nick.

At the beginning of the relationship, Gil really hadn't understood why a young, handsome man such as Nick would be interested in a graying, bug-loving old coot like himself, but the Texan had managed to convince him that Gil was exactly what he wanted. Against his better judgment, they'd started dating and Grissom expected Nick to run off the minute he came to his senses.

Internally, Gil was still pessimistic that the relationship could last, but it had been five months and Nick was still around, doing things like stand in Grissom's kitchen in nothing but a shirt. Though they didn't exchange confessions of undying love on a regular basis, the head CSI's negative side was starting to shut up and die.

"How much longer are you going to spend on that toast?" Gil grumbled faintly as he slid his hand into the front of Nick's shirt and palmed his well-muscled chest.

Nick groaned as the broad hand started to tease his nipples into attention. "Good lord, you horny monster! Can't you give a guy a chance to get something to eat? I swear you have more energy for sex than most twenty-year-olds."

"Did you assume otherwise, because I can still be surprising from time to time. I'm not too old to stay up three days in a row while I'm working on a case, so I think a little sex shouldn't be enough to slow me down," Gil joked in a husky voice, rubbing his beard against the soft skin of Nick's throat. The younger man squirmed pleasantly and tried to scarf hap-hazardously buttered toast before he lost his chance.

He was just swallowing the last corner of his breakfast when Gil slid his fingertips up the inside of his thigh. Nick couldn't suppress his gasp when his lover grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed.

"In the kitchen?" The A&M frat boy asked.

"Why not," Gil purred with a smile.

It always amazed him at how easy it was to arouse the young man, especially because Nick's eyes darkened with lust for HIM. He'd been trying to stop asking himself why Nick wanted him and just be grateful that he did.

Nick tried to turn so he could press his body up against Gil, but the older man moved his hands to Nick's hips to still him. CSI Stokes whimpered with disapproval, but got quiet to see what Gil had in mind. If he wanted something specific, he would guide Nick's movements.

"Put your hands on the counter."

Nick did what he was told, shivering at Grissom's low, commanding voice. It was an order with the underlying sound of lust. Nick was certain that he was one of the only human beings in the world that had ever heard Gil use that tone.

Just to get a reaction, Nick made sure to widen his stance and lean on the counter so he was fully accessible. The audible hiss of Gil sucking his breath through his teeth was a good sign that he'd succeeded. A finger ventured down his cleft and he echoed the noise. The slightest touch to his asshole caused his gasp to evolve into an embarrassingly loud whimper.

Gil sucked on his fingers while continuing his rough massage of the Texan's rear-end. He pushed up the trailing edge of the button-down Nick was wearing, enjoying having his lover spread out like an all-you-can-eat buffet. Once there was enough moisture on his digits, Gil slid the first one into Nick's tight body.

The tremor that ran through Nick gave Grissom's already painful erection another rush of blood. "I'm glad you're still loose, because I don't know how much longer I can last," Gil muttered and worked a second finger inside his eager partner. "Do you think you're ready enough?"

"For you, always," Nick panted. He pushed back against Gil's questing hand, trying to bring his touch deeper. When the fingers were taken away, Nick all but howled his dissatisfaction. "Gil," he dragged out the name in a long, unhappy moan.

Grissom pressed his mouth against the back of Nick's neck and smiled. "Patience, Nicky my boy, patience," he teased, reaching down to strip off the pants he'd put on only a few minutes earlier. When Gil managed to get the pajamas to pool around his feet, he stepped out of them and backed away from the counter, pulling Nick with him.

The two men fell into one of the four chairs sitting around the kitchen table, but it was sturdy furniture so it held up under their combined weight. Gil flipped Nick around to face him and maneuvered him so he was sitting astride his lap, while saying leisurely, "You have patience and you'll get exactly what you want."

"But I want you now, babe," Nick whined playfully.

Gil laughed and unbuttoned the plaid shirt his lover had chosen to wear. Each button revealed another inch or two of toned flesh. When every fastening had been undone, Grissom pushed the shirt off Nick's shoulders.

"Alright, you can have me now," he consented with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes, adding, "but you'd better ride hard."

A faint blush spread across Nick's face. No matter how many times they had sex, a little dirty talk still caused the younger man to flush. It really didn't even have to be all that dirty, but Gil liked toss something in because Nick was quite cute when he had a pink tint to him.

After slicking his lover's cock, Nick carefully got positioned over Gil and pressed down. They groaned in unison at the joining of their bodies. The younger man no longer had a problem taking in all of his lover, but it had taken weeks of practice to make it an easy feat. Now, months after their first time, Nick found he preferred it fast and hard. Sometimes, he liked it when Gil took it nice and easy, but when he was in control, he went down quick.

Nick paused momentarily to enjoy the full feeling that Grissom gave him. His boss was not a small man, which made sex with him a very stimulating thing. The first move he made was inspired by the gentle tug Gil gave to his hips. Nick pushed himself up onto his knees until his lover nearly slid out of him and came back down again, starting up a quick pace that wouldn't last long.

Grissom tossed his head back and gave Nick the reigns. The only thing he changed was his position, shifting slightly until Nicky shouted an obscenity at the ceiling. The Texan's brown eyes went impossibly wide before falling shut against the sparks of pleasure that danced in his vision. Every stroke after that hit Nick's prostate, causing the charming, good ol' boy to babble a long string of cuss words.

"Ughn, you've got such a dirty mouth Nicky," Gil muttered with a smile.

Feeling himself drawing closer to the edge, the entomologist gripped Nick's penis and pumped it in time to their movements. It didn't take long for the young CSI to climax, spilling his seed over Gil's stomach and chest. Grissom followed shortly behind him, pulled into the orgasm more by Nick's look of sheer pleasure than the gorgeous stimulation of his lover's internal muscles milking him dry.

When they came down off their sexual high, Nick was covering Gil like a human blanket, a warm, Texan blanket. Grissom smiled softly and ran his fingers through Nicky's short, brown hair.

Some part of Gil's mind, the part that tried to firmly remind him that he had crested fifty and should be deemed 'over the hill', warned him against too many more romps in the proverbial hay in one afternoon. The sane part of him muttered that he was too old to be doing such obscene things, but he disregarded it. If he didn't get a certain amount of time in with his lover on his preciously cherished Saturday, he found it was difficult to keep his hands to himself during work. He was very particular about professional behavior at work, so Saturday was a very important day.

Gil breathed in the scent of his lover and sighed contently.

Suddenly, Nick broke the comfortable silence that had settled over the room, making a comment that caused the head CSI to break out in laughter.

"I love Saturdays."