Title: Writing is Very Very Hard
Author: podga
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Nick Stokes
Rating: R
Warning: Spoiler for Season 5 "Formalities"
Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me and I don't make money off of them
Summary: Established relationship. Gil doesn't write a speech.

When Nick hears Gil's low fluid cursing, he can't help grinning. It's just Gil's bad luck that he was the most obvious choice to write a speech for Conrad Ecklie's promotion. Something he's been trying to do for the last two hours.

"Gil? Aren't you coming to bed? You want to look fresh for your speech tonight."

Gil looks up. The laptop screen is reflected in his glasses, so Nick can't see his expression, but judging from the set of Gil's jaw, there's not much love there. Nick tries to arrange his own face into an appropriately sympathetic look and pads over to stand behind Gil.

"Maybe I can help. What have you written so far?"

Gil reaches towards the laptop, as if to close the cover, but half-way through his palm turns upward, making an odd, surrendering gesture.

"What can I say about Conrad Ecklie?" Nick reads aloud. "Uh, that's it?"

Gil shrugs.

"OK, we can work with that," Nick tries to say seriously, but his voice is wobbly with suppressed laughter. "Try this: 'I cannot begin to describe my respect for him.'"

Gil's lips quirk. He's not finding the situation anywhere near as funny as Nick, but his mood is improving slightly.

"'To merely say that he's a good scientist does him an injustice,'" Nick continues.

"Nick. You're not helping me," Gil says sternly.

"Sorry. Uh, OK. OK. I'll be serious now. 'His behavior both on and off the field simply leaves me speechless.'"

When Nick sees that Gil actually had his hands poised over the keyboard for that one, he loses it completely. He's laughing so hard he can barely stand and he staggers over to the armchair, flopping down on it bonelessly.

"I'm just giving you the broad strokes here, you're going to have to elaborate," Nick gasps. "Here's one more you can build on: 'It's hard to get to know Conrad, because he hides his qualities.'"

Gil gets up and walks over to stand in front of Nick. "You're very funny. You're a funny, funny guy," he says, his voice smooth and menacing.

Nick tries to stop laughing, but the best he can manage is a sort of semi-muffled giggling. "'There are no words for his leadership abilities.' Gil, I don't think you're getting all this down," he says, and that starts him off again.

Gil drops to his knees in front of Nick, putting them at eye level.

"Hey. Writing speeches is hard," he says softly, but his eyes belie the seriousness of his voice.

Nick's eyes are wet with laughter. He leans forward. "I know," he says. He cups Gil's face and kisses him on the mouth, his tongue licking Gil's lower lip. "Writing is very very hard," he murmurs sympathetically, then spoils the effect by laughing again.

Gil lays one palm against Nick's cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb, then slides his hand further back to cup Nick's head and pull him forward again. "Very very hard," he agrees, before capturing Nick's mouth with his own.

Where Nick's kiss was tender, almost tentative, Gil's is hard and hungry, and Nick immediately responds to the change in mood. He slides forward on the seat and puts his hands on Gil's shoulders, pushing him backwards until Gil's lying on the carpet with Nick on top of him, never losing contact with his mouth.

Gil slips his hands beneath Nick's T-shirt and runs his fingertips gently up and down Nick's sides, making Nick shiver and break out in goose bumps. He squirms, pushing his hips against Gil's, causing Gil to grunt in sudden pain.

"You want to move this upstairs?" Nick says breathlessly, his eyes moving hungrily over Gil's flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his fingers tracing the rapidly beating artery along Gil's neck.

"What about my speech?" Gil murmurs.

Nick stands up and pulls Gil with him. "I'll help you with that later," he promises.

Only he never does.