Title: Will Jim get to see the tatt?
Author: Susie
Email: Susie41694@aol.com
Author's Website: http://susie41694.livejournal.com/
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Jim/Greg
Category: slash
Rating: FRAO
Status: completed
Summary: Greg got a tattoo, what it is and where it is, that's the problem or is it?
Notes: A big thanks to Anne for her hard work, please remember all mistakes are mine, as she did her best. Also thanks to Peja for the prompt, "I hear you got a tatt, can I see it."
Archive: WWOMB, anyone else please ask

Jim leaned on the doorframe to Gil's office waiting for him to finish gathering the information for an update. Every little bit Jim would look in to find the same scene - Gil's fingers continuing to fly over the keyboard with the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear. Then Jim would just turn back to watching the hallway.

He smiled at the whirlwind coming down the hall. "Hey, Greg."

Greg turned his head toward the sound of his name. Slowing his movement and making a slight change in direction as his eyes locked on Jim, he said, "Hey."

Jim continued in a quieter tone as Greg got close, "So, I hear you got a tatt. Can I see it?"

"Well, it's not really in a place that I can show you while we're standing in the hall." Greg's cheeks were changing from a nice shade of pink into a deeper shade of rose.

"We could walk over to the restroom," Jim said, looking that way. Greg glanced in the same direction before turning back to Jim, taking a deep breath. "Uh, I'm not sure it's in a place I should show you at all."

"What's a matter, don't think I can handle it? I've seen a lot in my lifetime," Jim said, smiling, eyes twinkling. Greg's cheeks were shining bright now and he was at a loss for words.

Jim leaned a little closer, saying, "I've heard your car is in the shop. How about I pick you up after shift and take you home."

"Jim, get in here!" Grissom called from his office.

Greg stammered, "Okay."

Jim softly adding as he turned to enter the office, "You can show me the tatt there."

Part 2

Hours later, Greg was in another world as Nick drove them back to the lab. He was so lost in thought that he didn't even realize that he was flipping his phone open, waiting a pause then shutting it again. Finally, it seemed Nick had enough. "Greg." After another flip of the phone, Nick raised his voice a little and put a little more force to it. "Greg!"

Slowly there seem to be some response happening so Nick continued, "You need to talk?"

"What?"

"Do you need to talk?"

"No!" Greg turned back to looking out the window.

"So are you going to make that call or not?"

"What?"

"Either make the call or put the phone away because if you keep flipping that damn thing open and closed, I might just stop and make you walk back to the lab."

Greg looked down at the phone in his hand then slowly put it away. Nick continued, "You sure you don't need to talk? Because at the scene, you must have flipped open your phone at least ten times but I never saw you make a call. Now, you look like you're lost out the window and you're back to flipping that phone. Come on, Greg, what gives?"

A deep breath, in and out, released slowly. "I have a problem, no, you can't help me, no I'm not telling you, and no, I don't want to talk," Greg said with more force than he meant. "Just let it be!"

"Fine, as long as you don't start flipping your phone again!"

Silence filled the vehicle the rest of the way to the lab. Nick spoke as he turned into the parking lot. "Greg, why don't you take a break after we get the evidence logged in." As the vehicle came to a stop, he turned his head to face his co-worker."I'll leave the keys with you so you can make that call in private." Nick held out the keys to Greg.

Greg's only answer was a shake of his head then he opened the door and climbed out.

Part 3

The locker area was now empty except for Greg who had been sitting in the same place for over fifteen minutes. He stared down at the open phone, looking at Jim's smiling face. All he needed to do was hit the talk button but here he just sat.

A deep breath and then he spoke, "Hi Jim, listen, David is leaving now and he lives close to me so I'm going to catch a ride with him. I know you have to be tired and you're going out of your way to get me home. Thanks anyways, 'night," another deep breath, "that'll work."

"No, but it would've been a nice try and you waited too long to call cause I' m here." Jim stood in the doorway looking at a very shocked Greg. Not giving him a chance to speak, he continued on. "Nice picture, where'd you get it?" Greg looked back down at his phone, shut it, and stood. He started toward

Jim. "I took it at a scene a few days after I got the phone."

Jim could see in Greg's actions that he was about to try to another escape attempt but before he could, Jim said, "Greg, let's just put the tatt thing to the side for the moment. I thought maybe breakfast would be nice." Greg took what he thought would be an opening. "Sure, anywhere and I'll buy."

Jim smiled. "Great." But in his mind he continued with, "Hook, line, and sinker."

Greg snapped his seatbelt shut after climbing into the car and let out a sigh of relief. He thought he was on his way out of having to show Jim the tattoo.

"Jim? Where are we going for breakfast?" Greg asked as the scenery out the window rushed by and was not the one he had expected.

"Oh, I thought I would cook us a couple of omelets. Maybe put in some bell peppers, onion, mushrooms, and a little cheese. What do you think? Sound okay?"

Greg's mind was fried, just like the food was about to be. "Jim, really... that's too much trouble. How about..."

Jim cut Greg off. "First, it's no trouble, I like to cook. Second, I said to set the tatt thing to the side… Not drop it."

Greg swallowed. "How did you find out anyways?"

"Heard the rumors about you and not using the urinals. Did you think running for the stalls wouldn't get around?" Jim paused, giving Greg a moment to react, get his thoughts together. "You know you can trust me, and just maybe, I can help get the rest of them off your back over the tatt."

"Nick's got a big mouth." Greg didn't even realize he had said it out loud until Jim spoke.

"He's the one person who hasn't said anything to me about it." Jim saw Greg's movement out the corner of his eyes. "I guessed it was a tatt."

Greg just let it go and sunk back in the seat.

Soon after that, they reached Jim's place.

At seeing Greg expression, Jim commented, "Moved here about three months ago."

Greg fell into step behind Jim as they headed in. Coming to a stop by the kitchen area of the loft, Jim asked, "Will you start the coffee while I change?"

"Sure, but where's the coffee? I see the machine."

"Same place you keep yours, grinder should be next to the machine."

Now Greg really was surprised. The coffee was easy to find and it was his favorite. But there were three grinders and each was labeled; one for the spices, one for coffee in general, and one just for these beans.

By the time, Jim returned the coffee was well on its way. Greg moved around to sit on the stool in front of the breakfast bar while Jim took his place in the kitchen. Greg watched as Jim moved around quickly and efficiently.

"So, why did you sell your house? Last we talked I thought you were fixing it up, painting, carpeting."

"After the shooting and I was back at work I realized I hated all the work and money it took to take care of that place. The painting and carpeting made for a quick sale and at a higher price."

Greg took in every movement that Jim made. The t-shirt hugged his body, which was so different from the suits Greg usually saw him wearing. Jim slipped a glass of juice and a cup of coffee onto the bar. "So think you can tell me about the tatt now?"

Greg shook his head. "Maybe after we eat?" Then he looked from the juice to the coffee, finally picked up the juice and sipped it. "Okay, only until after we eat." Jim's mind continued "...and you finish a glass or two of juice." Greg let out a sigh of relief..

Part 4

As the two of them finished the last of the food, Jim suggested they move over to the living room area. A flip of a switch and the loft filled with music as the two walked over to the group of chairs and side tables, most of which faced each other though a couple also had a view out a very large window. Greg, with his juice, sat to one side, and Jim sat in the chair next to him.

"So tell me about the tatt."

Greg held up his juice glass. "What's in here? It's really good?"

Jim smiled at how relaxed Greg was. "A blend of citrus, mango, and a little rum."

"I thought you stopped drinking? Never even noticed the rum."

"I don't have any rum in mine. And I thought you could use just a little, just enough to relax you."

"I guess it's tatt time?"

"Why don't we start with the 'how and why' of the tatt." Jim smiled as he leaned back into the chair and put his feet on the coffee table.

"I lost a stupid bet. The winner got to pick the design and where it went."

"So what did you and Nick bet on?"

"Oh, no, it wasn't Nick. He just saw me carrying the stuff to change the bandage. I had an old friend come to visit and I lost the bet to him."

"So what was the bet?" Jim watched as Greg started turning a little pink and squirming a little then added, "Greg, you realize most of us think you're bi, right? So just, tell me what the bet was. Really, it's no big deal."

Greg took a long look at Jim. "Why?"

Jim locked eyes with Greg. "Why most of us think you're bi? How about your words, your actions, the flip of your head at both females and males but the last clue is dreaming about Gil."

Greg broke eye contact and relaxed into the chair. "I've known this guy for nearly ten years. A few years ago, just after his forty-fifth birthday, we met in San Francisco. We made a bet there and I won so I got to pick the tatt and where to put it." Greg smiled as he looked over at Jim. "A flowing ribbon with the words 'Sexy Old Man' on his left arm. At first, he was a little upset with it. That was until he got home and his wife saw it. She loved it." Greg watched Jim's expression then continued. "They have an understanding, discreet, careful, and away from home. He gets his time and she gets hers. She's even emailed me thanking me for the tatt. They both seem happy with it; and they have five kids."

Jim sighed. "Five, and I couldn't manage one."

"Sorry."

Jim smiled at Greg. "So what was the bet?"

"Don't remember. It was a long time ago."

"Greg!"

"We were drunk," Greg continued after Jim gave him that look. "It was who could last the longest receiving a blow job. He lasted forty-five seconds longer than me."

Jim changed his position, feet on the floor and sat up straighter, almost to the edge of the chair. "So he got his payback. I think I've a guess at where the tatt is; but what is it?" Jim picked up Greg's empty glass. "More?"

Greg nodded.

Jim spoke as he handed the filled glass to Greg. "Ready to show?"

A quick look came from Greg and he replied, "No, I don't think so." Jim sat back down and continued speaking as he watched Greg drink the juice. "Changing homes is not the only thing I did." Greg’s eyes locked on Jim's.

"I went to a friend, a really good tattoo artist. He took special care in putting it on me. You're only about the fifth person who's got to see it or even knows about it."

With that, Jim pulled his shirt off. Greg moved onto the coffee table to get a good look. There in the left chest area was a ribbon running around part of the scar area with the words 'took a bullet and kept on ticking'.

"So you ready to show?" Jim asked. Their eyes locked for the briefest of moments.

"No, but soon," Greg said, and with that Jim pulled Greg into a kiss.

A gentle press of their lips then a slight parting before both moved back for more. With each moment, the intensity of the kisses grew until they parted gasping for air.

Greg sat back a little to catch his breath and thoughts. He looked down as Jim started unbuttoning his shirt, letting Jim slip it off him as their lip met once more.

"Greg, how about over there?" Jim’s head tilted toward the area that served as a bedroom. "Show me there?"

"Okay, but no laughing, no teasing, promise, really promise me!"

"I promise no teasing… or telling anyone… and I'll try… no laughing, just can't promise, okay?"

"Okay." With that, Greg stood and headed for the bed.

Jim followed and shed his pants on the way.

Greg stopped beside the bed and waited for Jim to sit on it. Then Greg turned his back to Jim and undid his pants, pushed them down and stepped out of them. He took a deep breath to pull himself together before he turned around.

Jim had to stifle a laugh as he saw the bright blue winner's ribbon. The rosette looked as if it hung from his navel with thin ribbons running to the side of his cock. And in the circle, the words shone, "1st in Boy Toy Class."

Jim looked up. "Show me what got you the ribbon."

Greg laughed and let Jim pull him close enough to plant kisses. Soon they had move up onto the bed. They lost themselves in the close examination of tatts and other body parts.

The End