Title: ‘What the Hell’ Moments
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: CSI and its characters do not belong to me. I write and post for fun only.
Summary: Sequel to Dreams of Flying. Series 5

Nick has regretted most of the actions in his life that immediately followed the thought ‘what the hell.’ He has a feeling he’ll regret this one as well. He takes the two steps separating him from Grissom, leans forward and kisses him on the mouth. Grissom doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t back away either, so Nick closes his eyes and kisses him again, his mouth opening over Grissom’s.

Grissom makes a sound deep in his throat, and Nick isn’t sure if it’s in surrender or protest, because Grissom is simultaneously kissing him back and pushing him away.

“Stop,” Grissom whispers. “Nick…”

Nick lets Grissom put a little distance between them. He tries to read Grissom’s face. He’s expecting anything from interest to revulsion; what he gets is a perfect blank. Grissom has his poker face on.

He can back down. Or, seeing as he’s already burnt his bridges, he can move forward.

He reaches for Grissom’s hand with one hand while unbuttoning his shirt with the other, and he presses Grissom’s palm against his bare chest. Grissom doesn’t resist; in fact he leaves his palm where it is once Nick lowers his hand. Grissom meets Nick’s eyes for a split second, then he looks down at his own hand, apparently mesmerized as he moves it against Nick’s chest, his fingertips grazing along Nick’s collarbone and then tracing the rapidly pulsing artery up his neck to rest right under his jaw. Nick feels like his heart is about to burst.

“Griss…” he says hoarsely.

“Shhh.”

Grissom’s eyes continue to follow the motion of his hand as it moves downward again until it’s resting in its original position, then he looks up at Nick’s face. His pupils are dilated and Nick doesn’t think he’s ever seen Grissom’s eyes such a dark blue.

“What do you want, Nick?”

‘You’ Nick thinks, but something keeps him from saying it out loud. “Nothing,” he says instead.

“Nothing,” Grissom repeats in a flat tone. His thumb moves right at the edge of Nick’s nipple, gently scraping, and Nick breaks out in goose bumps. “What do you want?”

Over the time they’ve been working together, Nick has gathered that Grissom is fairly accepting of a wide range of sexual practices. Somehow he’d developed the comfortable idea that most of Grissom’s knowledge was academic, just one more thing he’d read up on. Suddenly he’s not so sure about the academic part. He feels a thrill at the thought that if they end up somewhere, it might not be in familiar territory.

“What do you want?” Grissom repeats.

“This.”

Grissom drops his hand and takes a step back. Nick stands bereft, the blood rushing to his face.

“Griss?”

“I’m not interested in being anybody’s rebound affair,” Grissom says harshly. “And especially not yours.”

“What are you talking about?”

Grissom just shakes his head.

“It’s time I left.”

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

Grissom pauses. “Really? Three days ago you passed up on the one apartment you liked just because it’s two blocks away from your ex-lover.”

“What? That… I mean…” Nick’s having trouble adjusting to the new atmosphere and he’s floundering badly.

Grissom smiles grimly.

“Bye, Nick,” he says and turns on his heel.

For a second Nick almost lets Grissom leave. Then he rushes after him and catches up with him at the front door, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around.

“Wait, goddamnit! Listen to me!”

Grissom jerks his shoulder away from Nick’s grasp and crosses his arm against his chest. “Fine,” he snaps. “I’m listening.”

It would have been hard enough for Nick to say what he wants to say if he’d had the Grissom of the past weeks in front of him, the friend who was willing to listen patiently and offer his opinion and support. It’s close to impossible faced with an angry and completely unreasonable Grissom. He takes a deep breath.

“Brian is— was a part of my life. But he’s not my ex-lover, not in the sense that you mean. There’s nothing to rebound from.”

Grissom’s posture doesn’t change; he’s still standing stiffly, almost bristling.

“Why are you so angry?” Nick asks in exasperation after waiting fruitlessly for some reaction. “If you’re not interested in guys, or in me in particular, all you have to do is say so. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“You didn’t embarrass me.”

“Well, whatever I did, I’m sorry, okay? It won’t happen again.” Fuck it. He knew it. He knew it. When will he learn not to ignore his instincts and his logic when they don’t go along with what he thinks he wants?

Grissom suddenly exhales and his stance relaxes.

“Nick. If I’ve given you the wrong idea, I’m sorry too.”

Nick gives a short bitter laugh. “The wrong idea? No, I think you’ve always given me exactly the right idea. It’s just that I tend to bark up the wrong tree sometimes.”

“I don’t have a particular problem with what happened here tonight. It’s just that I’m too old for casual affairs. Or maybe too young,” he adds with a sudden flash of humor.

Nick stares at him. “So what are you saying? That if you thought it was serious…” He lets the sentence hang in the air.

“No. I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that we work together. You report to me. So it couldn’t be anything but casual, a few one-nights stands. And like I said, I’m a little beyond that.”

Nick suddenly realizes that his shirt is still hanging open. He almost starts to button it, but then he sticks his hands in his pockets. To button it right now in front of Grissom would be to recall that moment earlier, when he did the opposite, and he doesn’t want to go back there.

“I understand,” he says.

“Will we be okay at work?”

Nick had almost asked the same question; after all, he’s the one who threw himself at Grissom, he’s the subordinate at work and Grissom is the one who made him see sense. Grissom is looking at him, his blue eyes soft, and Nick realizes that Grissom is handing over control of the situation to him, even though he didn’t have to. It’s a gift of sorts.

“Yeah. We’ll be fine,” he says firmly, squaring his shoulders. At the moment he actually almost believes himself.

Grissom nods. “Good,” he says gruffly. “Well… goodnight.” He starts to extend his hand, then he withdraws it awkwardly, as if realizing at the last moment that this is hardly the time for a formal handshake. “Goodnight,” he says again and turns to open the front door.

“Gil,” Nick says, Grissom’s first name slipping out almost unconsciously. “If anything, Brian was the rebound.”

Grissom pauses again, one hand on the doorknob and looks back at Nick.

“Leave it alone, Nick,” he says. “Just let it go.”

Nick knows he should. But it’s those damned burnt bridges again.

“I’m just going to say this tonight. And tomorrow we can go back to normal again. I…” He swallows, then changes direction. “You’re very important to me,” he says, knowing how completely inadequate that sounds. “You have been, for a long time. I just didn’t really admit it to myself until a few days ago.”

He sees Grissom’s hand clench on the doorknob, his knuckles gleaming whitely in the shadow. “I don’t want to hear this,” Grissom mutters.

“Yeah, well I’m not sure I really want to be saying it,” Nick grumbles in a spurt of irritation.

Grissom unexpectedly smiles. “Fair enough,” he says. He inhales deeply and seems to come to a decision. He lets go of the doorknob and walks back to Nick, reaching up to cup his neck.

“You’re very important to me, too,” he says, smiling a little. “And I admitted it to myself a long time ago.”

Nick’s breath catches at Grissom’s unexpected confession.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Do you understand now?”

He doesn’t want to. But he does. “Yeah.”

Grissom leans forward and kisses him on the corner of his mouth, then rests his forehead against Nick’s, closing his eyes, his hand caressing Nick’s nape restlessly. “Tomorrow we can go back to normal,” he mutters suddenly, and he tightens his grip and kisses Nick hungrily.

“Tomorrow,” Nick promises, and he wraps his arms around Grissom.

He doesn’t know Grissom that well, but he’ll bet anything that Grissom just had a ‘what the hell’ moment. And about damn time, too.