Worth Waiting For

Disclaimer: I don't own the legal rights to any of these characters or the series featured here, and I acknowledge the legal rights of those who do. I will make no profits from this story.

Note: If you know me personally, you may want to bear in mind that I write these stories as a private hobby. I'm not embarassed by anything I write, but if you think you might be, please turn around now.

***

“Gil, I really didn’t mind,” Sara nestled against him, stroking his side. “I liked seeing you enjoy yourself.”

“You’re supposed to enjoy it too.”

“I did. I enjoyed seeing you enjoy yourself.” Sara yawned; Grissom winced slightly. Sara yawning really wasn’t the reaction he’d been hoping for. She smiled sleepily. “Sorry… don’t take it personally if I drift off.”

“It’s okay, you…” Gil Grissom’s words trailed off as Sara promptly shut her eyes. Her breathing became regular, her body relaxed against his, her head lolled back against his arm. Great. In three hours I’ve gone from her boss, to her date, to her lover, to her pillow. He sighed and tugged the covers over them both. Not that watching Sara sleep was in any way an hardship – she looked beautiful with her eyes closed and her face relaxed – but Sara awake was what tonight was supposed to have been about. Sara, awake, naked, smiling, sighing…

Wasn’t one of the few consolations about getting older supposed to be that along with the grey hairs, backache and wrinkles, you didn’t have to worry any more about coming too quickly? Perhaps it was karma catching up with him for rejecting her, and his own feelings, for so long. If so, karma was doing a damn good job of catching him both coming – huh – and going; apparently the getting-older-means-a longer-recovery-time thing remained unchanged. He got up, tucking the covers around Sara, and went out to the bathroom to wash. Drying himself, he wondered vaguely about whether he should be staying or making a move. It felt very strange to be in bed, not doing anything. Then again, the wine they’d both downed together pretty much settled the issue; he felt fine, but knew he wouldn’t pass a breath test. That, and Sara would probably kill him if she woke up and found him gone.

He padded softly into the bedroom, paused for a minute to admire Sara asleep, and swiftly decided that it was much more enjoyable to admire at close quarters. He got back in, settled himself against her back and wrapped an arm around her slender waist, shutting his own eyes, and trying to relax. Sara stirred against him; he stroked her stomach, and she murmured something unintelligible and rolled over so that her body was resting against his chest, her belly against his groin.

She stirred again, and stretched gracefully. “Mmmm… I like being woken up like this.” Like what? he wondered. Both his hands were still wrapped around her waist. She smiled, wickedly, and he was suddenly very aware of her nakedness, and his response to it. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him towards her for a kiss. Now this is better… much, much better…. He shifted slightly, so that he was lying on his side, facing her. Their hands danced gently over each other’s skin, exploring, questioning, do you like this? He pulled her closer to him, his mouth moving across her face to her earlobe, lips and tongue nibbling gently. This will be better… whatever she wants, I’ll do.

***

Sara swam up through ripples of sleep, waking to the pressure of Gil’s arousal against her belly. Damn, I fell asleep… hope he doesn’t take it personally. To cover her embarassment, she joked about him waking her up like that; to her amusement, he coloured slightly, ducking his head. He’s damn cute when he’s shy. She pulled him against her, revelling in the feel of warm male skin, warm male lips, warm male scent. I don’t believe this. How long have I wanted to do this? I never really thought it would happen – hoped, fantasised, cursed him for being so concerned about what was proper rather than what would make us happy – but I was never sure it would.

Her hands explored him more thoroughly. Their last embrace had been, sadly, all too brief. Sara wondered privately just how long it had been for him; maybe the rumours about Lady Heather really were just rumours. Still, Gil naked was a sight to remember. The hours he put in in the lab and out in the field precluded him spending much time in the gym - Gil in a gym, there’s a strange thought – but he was in good shape, she could feel his strength and vitality in the arms wrapped around her. He moved on top, beginning to kiss his way down her body.

She watched him, drinking in the sight of him naked, in her bed, wishing there was some way for them to do it and watch themselves at the same time. She looked around the room, but the wall mirror was too far away to show anything other than the bedside table and the set of birth control pills she had left out there deliberately, hoping to avoid some of the awkwardness of the is this safe? conversation. As it turned out, they had both recently had a full set of tests, and come up clean. Both had secretly considered what this implied about what had happened with Hank / Lady Heather, and had equally secretly decided that such thoughts would ruin what they had each wondered about doing ever since Sara had clumsily asked him to dinner, ages ago.

Ever since then, she'd had to stop herself thinking inappropriate thoughts in the lab. She was sure their colleagues had guessed something of what was going on; they were all paid to see the unseeable, after all. Speaking of seeing… it felt wonderful to be touched by Gil, but she wished she could see him, all of him, as well. I’m never satisfied, am I?

He must have sensed her distraction, as he lifted his head from her belly and looked into her eyes, quizzically. “What are you thinking?”

“Oh, it’s silly.” Would Gil think that was weird, her wanting to watch them make love? She could second-guess his thoughts in the lab or the field to the extent that the other CSIs joked about telepathy, but Gil the lover, as opposed to Grissom the genius CSI, was still a very new person to her. She was still half-afraid that he’d decide this wasn’t such a good idea, kiss her and leave, tell her she should find someone outside the lab, nearer her own age.

He smiled, the sort of smile that made her feel her bones were softening, relaxing into a warm pool of hormones. “Go on. Anything. Surprise me.”

“Oh… I was thinking that I wish I had a mirror in here.” It was obviously on the tip of his tongue to reply There’s one in the corner, but luckily he worked it out before having to ask.

“Hmm… yes. It’s a shame.” He grinned wickedly, and Sara felt a sudden surge of lust. This was the Gil she wanted, the one she’d always suspected was hiding under the professional veneer. Their first coupling had been sweet, but brief, reminding her of teenage experiences, over with all too quickly. He was obviously upset, disappointed with himself. Sara felt not quite so disappointed, just a little frustrated, but was careful not to let it show, repeating the mantra familiar to all women in similar situations, The male ego is a fragile thing.

Evidently Gil’s ego was recovering quickly, along with the rest of him. He ran a hand down her belly and between her legs. She gasped as his fingers explored her, his eyes never leaving hers. The grin broadened, and she grinned back, reaching out to stroke him, velvety skin under her fingers. He shut his eyes briefly, gasping, and Sara stroked more gently, not wishing to inadvertently cause a repeat of their earlier problem. “Mmm… there is something we could do.” He lifted himself off her, resting on his side, facing her. She began to turn, ready to spoon against him, thinking that was what he had in mind, when his hand on her hips stopped her. “No, you stay there.”

“Oh, do I get a choice?” she teased, making as if to wriggle free. He grinned and pinned her down more firmly, although still gently enough that she could move away if she really wanted to. “No, you just get to do as you’re told.” Gil wriggled himself further down the bed, his hand gently parting her legs, so that she shut her eyes and moaned in pleasure. She felt his hips nudge against hers, so that there they were almost lying in a cross shape, her on her back with her head resting on the pillows, he on his side facing her, with his hips at right angles to hers. She felt the tip of him nudge against her, reached down and stroked gently, guiding him in. Their sighs filled the air as Gil slid into her, her legs hooking over his hips. Looking down, she realised she could see nearly all of him, except where her legs rested against him. Just as importantly, he could see all of her. He moved his hips gently, not thrusting so much as stroking her inside.

It was a strange feeling, like being made love to in the missionary position but without the weight of him on top of her, almost like having a ghost lover. She was held gently in place, her naked body exposed, pinned between his hips and the headboard behind her head. Gil’s hand sought hers, and clasped it. He had to keep his underneath hand and arm still to stay in place, but his free hand began to stroke her again, exploring her breasts and nipples. She felt herself losing control, letting out a soft moan of sheer pleasure.

“Well, how’s that?” Gil grinned, just a little smugly, and accompanied his words with a deeper thrust that made her gasp. “Amazingly good,” she managed to get out, running her eyes over his body. Her own free hand slipped down between her legs, stroking herself as Gil had been doing just moments before. He watched avidly, and slid his own hand down to join hers. She moved her hand away; he guided it back. “Show me what you like, Sara.” She got the idea and held his hand with her free hand, using it to rub against herself, careful not to jab him with her nails. The combination of Gil’s broad fingers against her clitoris and his gentle thrusts inside her was incredible, made even better by the knowledge that she could trust him completely, lose control, seek out her own pleasure, and he would think none the worse of her. I must make sure I repay the favour, find out what he likes… but oh god, I’m not moving from this position, I’ll die if I don’t come soon, Gil, don’t stop, I love you…

***

Gil watched Sara’s face flush, her nipples responding to his touch, and thanked God that he had remembered this position. It had been entirely too long since he’d tried it, but with Sara, it seemed natural. Neither of them was inexperienced, but he knew it had never been quite like this with any of his other lovers. They knew each other so well, chemistry from years of working together becoming chemistry of an entirely more pleasurable kind.

He tried desperately to keep control, wanting to see her satisfied first, but it was difficult with the joint sensations of watching Sara’s naked body arch against his, her entire body naked in front of him, and her tight muscles clenching around him. He found a rhythm that seemed to suit her, letting her guide him, her hand stilling his for a short while, then showing him that she wanted him to continue, that she just needed a little time for the sensation there to rebuild, become shocking and wonderful again. He felt her slender thighs and belly muscles clenching, knew that what he was doing was working, that perhaps they would be lucky this first time. Attempting to please a woman was always more of an art form than anything else, but Gil was sure he was pleasing her, that her body loved what he was doing. Please, dear God, I hope so, I’m not sure I can hold out much longer.

He could feel his own instincts taking over, thrusting deeper and more rapidly. Sara cried out now, more loudly and wildly than before, and he knew that soon he would be joining her. He looked at her beautiful face, dark hair slicked down by sweat, and could see her lips moving. Focussing on them, he was sure he could make out the words I love you. It was still a shock, even here, in Sara’s bed, in her body, to see her say that. They barely knew each other… no, he was making excuses, they knew each other just fine. He steeled himself, clasping her hand. It felt a little strange to be holding hands whilst making love, but at the same time just right. “Sara, I love you too, and I’m sorry I was an idiot about it before, I should have handled things better, I…” She placed her finger against his lips, he scented salt, and musk.

Taking the hint, he stopped talking, and simply looked into her eyes, watching as he felt her body tense, muscles contracting, rubbing her harder in the same rhythm, faster and rougher now, until her eyes closed, her body arched in the air and she cried out “Oh fuck, yes, yes, Gil I love you, oh god, oh god, oh god…” He felt her internal muscles contract in waves around him, her hand slip down to stop him touching a now unbearably sensitive spot. His cries joined hers as he thrust harder and faster, instinct taking over, the sensation of her muscles squeezing him impossible to resist. His body shuddered as waves of pleasure crashed through him, incapable of feeling anything else now except the point where they were locked together, bodies entwined in exquisite, mutual orgasm. For a few moments, the world dropped away.

When it returned, he was lying, gasping for breath, grinning widely and watching Sara’s limp body sprawled across the sheets, her cheeks and breasts still flushed, smiling like a Cheshire cat. Gently, he shifted his hips, moving up towards her. She made a slight sound of disappointment as he slipped out of her, but soon began purring softly as he gathered her against him, his free hand reaching out and pulling the covers over them both, sweaty bodies cooling swiftly in the breeze from the window.

“Oh fuck, that was amazing,” Sara murmured, and blushed instantly; Gil guessed she’d surprised herself. He chuckled, and felt her giggle in reply. “Yes it was.” Just please don’t ask for a repeat performance until the morning. Suddenly he realised she was crying softly, and his heart plummeted. “Honey, did I hurt you?”

“No, no, not at all, I don’t know why I’m crying, I haven’t felt this happy in a long time.” He smiled as she snuffled and wiped her nose and eyes on the sheets, vaguely aware that somewhere out there a CSI lab waited for the two of them to return to a normal working relationship, that they had to deal with the problems of a workplace romance, his seniority to her, the fact that he would have to keep his love for her apart from his duties as her boss and the need to be fair to the rest of the team (who were, he realised, going to put two and two together very swiftly if both he and Sara showed up late for the next shift, wearing enormous grins), not to mention his deeper fears about the age difference, the hearing condition he carried in his genes, his fears that ultimately she might want children and he would never manage to make enough time for her, let alone a family. All those things would have to be dealt with, but he felt now that it was at least possible to deal with them, that they might find a solution if they tried hard enough. The thought occurred that finding the nearly-impossible, hidden solution and bringing it out into the light was, after all, what he and she did for a living. Sara nestled deep into his arms, and Gil sighed as they both drifted off to sleep together.


Author’s Notes: (I’ve put these here in the interests of not spoiling the fic). There’s a hell of a lot of ‘Grissom & Sara finally overcome their reservations, go on a date, kiss and fall into bed together’ fics out there. I wasn’t sure I could write one that would actually say anything new. One thing I do notice about a lot of fics is that a) they tend to posit that first times together are always magical, perfect, end in mutual orgasm etc… and b) the woman always seems to come purely through penetration, which rather goes against what pretty much every survey ever conducted about how women enjoy sex informs us of (including an impromtpu one conducted by me and my friends with the aid of a large bottle of Chardonnay). So, I got thinking, got inspired and then got writing. Hope you enjoyed it.