Grateful

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. Not even half of them. Sadly. If they were then much hot sex would happen. Unfortunatly, I doubt the episodes would be as gripping and as wonderful as they are... so maybe its a good job that thyere not mine. Even though I would feed them pears and make them happy.


Nick never really enjoys drinking. He only does it at parties or just for the hell of it, and then it’s only a couple of beers or a few shots of gin.
But when Gil Grissom turns up on his doorstep, drenched in the mid-October rain, Nick is only too happy to invite him in for a glass or two.

He watches as Grissom steps into his house and takes off his jacket in a single movement, sending a shower of raindrops onto Nicks floor.
‘Where should I put this?’ the older man asks, indicating to the inanimate object. ‘Oh,’ Nick hurries to take his bosses coat, ‘I’ll get that for you. Why don’t you just sit down and make yourself comfortable.’
Grissom smiles and walks into the main body of the house, leaving Nick by the door, his hands busy with trying to get the coat onto the peg by the door. At last he succeeds and follows his boss into his living room. ‘Shit’ Nicks thinks to himself, ‘ Why did I open the door? Why am I doing this? Why is Gil Grissom sitting on my sofa and why is he – Why is he smiling at me???’
Nick attempts to smile back and indicates the drink cabinets ‘ Fancy a drink?’ He expects Grissom to say no he’s driving, but instead he smiles and says, ‘Please. Make mine a scotch and soda.’ Nick jars himself into action and moves over to the pine cabinet, trying to ignore the small squirm of anticipation in the pit of his stomach.
‘Nice place’ Grissom says. ‘Thanks’ Nick replies, not turning round, measuring out some scotch into a glass, ‘it could still do with some work though.’ Grissom doesn’t reply, so Nick focuses on pouring himself a generous helping from the brandy bottle, half full from the last time Greg came round. Nick mentally winces. ‘Don’t think about that,’ he scolds himself, ‘just watch and enjoy Gil. He’s here, in your house, on your sofa, drinking your booze, just where you always wanted him to be.’
He picks up the two alcoholic drinks and takes them over to where Grissom is waiting, his blue eyes calculating behind the lenses of his glasses. Nick can’t help but shiver slightly as he hands him the glass, feeling the other mans thumb gently brush against his forefinger, watching his mouth curl into a secret smile.
‘So, what are you doing in this area?’ Nick asks, settling himself on the couch beside his boss, ‘I thought you’d be at home or at the lab.’ ‘I felt like paying a visit’. Grissom takes a sip of his drink and pulls a small face, ‘I know you don’t drink Nicky, but honestly,’ he shakes the glass slightly, ‘did you put any scotch in this drink?’ Nick feels his cheeks flush slightly and reaches for the glass. ‘No, no, don’t worry about it,’ Grissom says, pushing the other mans hand away, ‘I’ll get it.’ He gets up from the sofa and wanders over to the drinks cabinet. Nick takes a quick swig of his drink, feeling it burn his throat as he swallows. ‘Want another?’ Nick turns his head slightly to see Grissom smirking at him, ‘Yea, thanks. That would be good.’
Nick gets up to give Grissom his glass and joins the elder man in front of the small selection of beverages. Gil passes him the brandy and he nods his thanks. ‘So,’ Grissom said, taking another sip of his drink apparently now pacified, ‘I heard about you and Greg.’
Nick focuses on pouring brandy into his glass, aware of his supervisor’s eyes on the side of his face. ‘ Want to talk about it?’ Nick shakes his head, ‘Not really’. He looks up to meet Grissom’s eyes; ‘I don’t really want to think about Greg right now.’ He takes a mouthful of the liquid and swirls it around his mouth, feeling it burn his tongue.
‘You know Oscar Wilde once wrote, “Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional”’ Grissom says, settling back on to the sofa, the glass resting on his knee, his fingers caressing the rim. Nick looks at his supervisor, at a loss of what to say. ‘There’s nothing to talk about’ he says, his eyes tracing their path back to the floor. ‘Come on Nicky’ Grissom says, leaning forward, ‘your one of my best CSI’s, so I need to know if this is going to affect your work.’ Nick glances back up at the man sitting on his sofa, the man he respects so much, the man who he strives to be perfect for. The one man who he wants more then anything. ‘I need to know if there’s anything I can do to help.’
Nick takes another drink from the glass in his hand, feeling his head swim slightly. ‘I always knew there was a reason why I didn’t drink’ he says, sagging down on to the sofa next to Grissom, ‘and now I know why.’ Grissom looks him straight in the eye. ‘I just want to help Nicky. That’s all.’
Nick looks down at his glass and smiles to himself. ‘Help?’ He closes his eyes and leans back into the worn leather, positioning the glass against one of his cheeks, trying to cool the flush he can feel building there. ‘Nicky…’ he hears Grissom lean towards him, the leather creaking slightly, ‘just tell me what to do.’ Nick opens his eyes and looks straight into Gils bright blue ones.
He sits up straighter, leaning in to match Grissom’s posture, ‘Just don’t ask me to talk about this afterwards.’ He reaches down to put his glass on the floor, taking the elder mans glass at the same time and placing it next to his own.
‘You want to help me Gris,’ he says, reaching in to take the other mans hand, ‘don’t ask questions.’
Nick raises Grissoms hand to his mouth and starts to kiss the individual knuckles, always keeping eye contact with his boss. He watches as comprehension dawns on the elder mans face, and waits for him to pull his hand away and push Nick away in disgust. But he doesn’t. Something shifts in Grissoms expression, changing into something Nick doesn’t recognise. He feels the other man pull him towards his body, so he’s leaning against Grissoms chest, feeling the other mans heat radiating onto him. He doesn’t know whether he’s glad that Grissoms accepted him, doesn’t know whether he wants this or not, but part of him doesn’t want to stop it and another part wants to see how far he’s willing to go before he cracks.
He closes his eyes as Grissom thrusts his fingers inside his mouth, fucking his tongue with his index and forefinger.Nick reaches into the other man as Grissom traces the shape of his muscles on his chest.
Nick is grateful when Grissom finally removes his fingers and pushes him onto his back; his head on the armrest, his arms circling the elder mans neck. He’s grateful when Grissom finally reaches down and kisses him; the taste of scotch present on the other mans tongue. It’s not as hot as he thinks it should have been, but he is distracted by Grissom’s mouth moving to his neck.
He is grateful that Grissom doesn’t want to be touched. Grateful that Grissom is happy to focus on Nick and his body. He doesn’t know why, but somehow touching Grissom is like eating forbidden fruit; once you’ve taken the first bite you cant go back. And right now, all Nick wants is some distraction from his bruised pride and the image of Greg in the front of his mind.
He feels Grissom’s hands drop to the bottom of his shirt and he raises his arms obligingly above his head to allow him to take off the grey garment.
His chest involuntarily bucks into Grissoms mouth as he bites first one nipple and then the next, a small hiss escaping his mouth. He can see that his nipples are red and hard, feels that the nerves are about to explode. He pulls Grissom back up to his mouth, wanting another kiss. While the other man is exploring his mouth with his tongue, he drops a hand experimentally to the front of Grissoms pants to feel how aroused the other man is. He doesn’t mind that Grissom’s errection is small. He doesn’t care that Grissom isn’t aroused, because all he wants is touch and tongues. All he wants is to feel someone else’s flesh on his own, wants to feel someone’s teeth on his neck, wants to stop thinking about Gre-. ‘Stop it’ Nick tells himself, ‘just stop for fucks sake. You made your choice. No matter what you do, you can’t turn back now. Just succumb to Gil.’
He arches his back as Grissom begins to tongue his belly button, licking and nipping the sensitive area with his perfect mouth. He can’t help himself; he runs a hand along Grissom’s inner thigh until he reaches the other mans fly. He can’t feel any hardness. Can’t feel an errection bulging in Grissom’s pants.
He shuts his eyes as his boss licks up from his stomach to the base of his neck, kissing and biting into his flesh. Nick knows there’ll be marks there the next morning. He feels his own errection swell as the other mans hand begins to caress his outer thigh first, working inwards and upwards as he goes. He can’t help but reach for Grissoms other hand and hold it in his own, squeezing tightly, telling him without words that he wants more, more, more.
Nick doesn’t know how long he’s wanted this. Can’t remember how many months he stood in the shower, jerking himself off thinking about Gil. But now it’s happening, Nick can’t help but think that there should be something more. His errection is swelling in his pants, he’s hot and he’s ready for anything Grissom gives to him, but he’s not happy.
He’s not happy because he doesn’t know how Gil feels, doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Can’t tell anything. Can’t notice anything because all he can think of is Grissoms hand, slipping inside his trousers, all he can feel is Grissom’s thick fingers caressing his flesh. He opens his eyes and meets the pair of blue eyes in the darkness. He knows he’s flushed, knows his eyes are half lidded, but he cant place Grissoms expression. So he closes his eyes again and lifts his hips so Grissom can slide his boxers off him.
He arches into the touch when Gil’s fingers first touch his errection. Thrusts his hips into his boss’s hand as the older man begins to stroke him in earnest. He can’t let his thoughts wonder, he has to focus. He can’t think about- Nick thrusts himself angrily into Gil’s hand, pushing his hips hard and fast.
Nick feels a surge of anger course through his body, so he bites into Grissoms neck and listens to the other mans small cry of surprise. He feels Grissoms hand increase its pace on his cock, two fingers reaching down to clutch at his balls, a small attempt to speed up his orgasm. He can feel impatience in Grissoms touch now, can practically see the man itching to look at his watch in the darkness.
He pulls Grissom in for a final kiss, knowing that this will never happen again, and knowing in his heart that he doesn’t want it to. He can feel the other mans tongue darting around his mouth, knows he should find it pleasurable, but he doesn’t. It’s just a tongue, and Nick doesn’t know why he’s been lusting after it for so long. Doesn’t know why he sacrificed everything that he had just to taste it.
Grissoms hand gives a final hard stroke on his errection and he feels his orgasm dawn on him. There isn’t a sound from either man as Nick comes in his boss’s hand. The only indication that Nick orgasms is a small sigh that escapes his lips.
Nick lifts his hips up again so that Grissom can pull his pants back up over his ass. He lets the older man zip his fly back up for him. He doesn’t know if he can be bothered to move, but he’s grateful that Grissom hasn’t said anything yet. Hasn’t asked him what happened and hasn’t given him a sad look. He’s grateful when Grissom stands up, picks up the two glasses and walks over to the sink.
Nick hears the tap start to run and knows that Gil’s washing the come off his hand. He listens to the sharp click of the older mans shoes on the kitchen floor and the clinking of the glasses as he places them on the sideboard. Nick lies on the sofa, in the same position as he was a few minutes ago, but let’s his arms rest by his sides. He looks down at his bare chest and wonders absent-mindedly where his top has gone. He can see his muscles reflected in the pale glow of the streetlights and notices the dark shadows of Gil’s teeth marks starring back at him. He puts a hand to his neck, wondering how obvious the bites are there.
A polite cough to his left alerts him once again to Gils presence. He half starts to get up and then gives up. ‘What the fuck is the point?’ he wonders, ‘the guys just made me come on my sofa, I think we’re past formalities now.’ Grissom has his hands crossed across the front of his body, ‘his protective position’ Nick thinks bitterly.
‘Im going now Nicky’ Gil says, his tone emotionless, his hands staying clasped in front of him, ‘but I’ll see you at work tomorrow.’ He starts towards the door, stops, turns back. ‘I’ve laid out two aspirin on your kitchen table. You may want to take them now.’ He continues to the door, takes his coat from the peg and turns back, his eyes trained on Nicks face, ‘I think it would be best, if neither of us mentioned this again, don’t you?’ Grissom puts on his jacket, zip it up and opens the door. ‘Goodnight Nicky.’
Nick is grateful that Grissom has left him in the dark. He is grateful that Grissom has left him on his own. Nick turns onto his side, his back to the world, staring at the leather back of the couch. He doesn’t feel anything really. His head is slightly clouded from the fading orgasm, but he’s not really thinking about what just happened.
As he closes his eyes, Nick realises that he is grateful that Grissom didn’t say anything to him afterwards. He is grateful that it was Grissom who touched him, because he knows that with Grissom everything will be as he said it would. By tomorrow morning, none of this would have happened. Nick would have never come on his couch. He would have never first reached out and kissed Grissoms hand. He would have never let Grissom pour him that second drink. He wouldn’t even have opened the door to him. ‘By tomorrow morning’ Nick thinks to himself as he feels his eyes shut, ‘tonight won’t have happened.’

Grissom sits in his own house, not really looking at anything and not really thinking of anything. He’s thinking of Nicky as he stands up and gets ready for bed, ‘not that I’ll sleep’ he mutters to himself. As Grissom settles down for another long sleepless night, he replays the night’s events in his head. It isn’t until a few hours later that it properly dawns on him what actually happened. Grissom feels bile rise in his throat and he runs to his bathroom to throw up. Grissom feels sick. Sick from the alcohol, sick with himself and sick because of what he did. As he retches in the toilet bowl, he knows that he should have said no.

When Nick wakes up in the morning, he swallows the tablets, has a shower and then gets dressed in his normal attire of slacks and a tight t-shirt. He heads downstairs, one thought fresh in his mind. He stands still for a few minutes, before finally deciding to pick up the phone. He lets his fingers trace the number he knows so well, places it to his ear and listens to it ring. He waits on the end of the line, chewing his thumbnail in anticipated anguish. ‘Greg? Hi, it’s me, Nick. I was wondering if you fancied breakfast… I need to talk to you…’
The next morning at the office everything is normal. Grissom is sitting in his office, his nose buried in a book about the life of the African wasp. Catherine saunters into his office, a mug of coffee in her hand. ‘You look as if you had a rough night’ she says, placing it on his desk and helping herself to a seat opposite him. He lowers the book and looks at her through his glasses. ‘I was just up late,’ he says placing a bookmark in between pages, ‘nothing special.’ Catherine raises a thin eyebrow. ‘Oh no? Then where did that mark come from?’ Grissom frowns at her, reaches into his bottom drawer and pulls out a small hand mirror. He opens it and focuses its view on his neck. He can see teeth marks and the faint shadings of a bruise swelling on his neck. He traces the outline with his finger. ‘Oh nicky… when the hell did you do that?’ he thinks to himself. ‘That’ he says, folding the mirror up and shutting it away again, ‘is for me to know and you to never find out.’
Catherine rolls her eyes and stands up to leave, ‘I guess I’ll see you later then.’ She turns to walk out the door and then as if remembering something, turns back and says ‘Oh yes, did you hear about Nick and Greg?’ Grissom looks up from his book again, ‘Oh?’
‘Its all back on between the two of them’ Catherine says, a faint smile tracing her lips, ‘which I think is a good thing. Don’t you?’ Grissom looks at her, seemingly distracted, ‘Oh, yes. Very good.’ Catherine shakes her head and shuts the door behind her.
Grissom picks up his book again, tries to read it, takes a sip of coffee and then leaves his office with careful precision and purpose.
He approaches the lab cautiously and darts into the opposite room. No one is surprised to see Gil Grissom in the lab so early so they don’t really pay him much attention. Grissom looks up from a microscope and into the room across from him. He can see Nick leaning against one workbench, Greg sitting in the chair in front of him. There’s nothing much physical happening between the two of them, but Gil can see the smiles that they’re exchanging. He can see the love between the two of them, shining as clearly as blood under luminol. Gil picks up some files and leaves the lab. He sees Nick look up as he passes and the two of them exchange a nod of acceptance.
Back in his office, Gil sits behind his desk, his book lying openly discarded on the worktop. ‘Some fruits’ he decides ‘are best not picked. They are best served only as thought and as want. Because most of the time, when they’ve been plucked, they’re not as tantalising off the stem and they’re not as sweet as you think they will be.’ Grissom picks up his mug of cold coffee. ‘Or some things’ he says to himself, ‘just shouldn’t happen.’
Nick is grateful to have Greg back. He is grateful that Grissom hasn’t called to see him. Grissom is grateful when Nick announces he and Greg are taking a few days vacation together and ‘would it please be ok to have a few days off?’ Grissom is only too happy to grant them both leave.
They are both grateful not to have to see each other.