A Billion Dollars
folder
CSI › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,123
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
CSI › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,123
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own CSI, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
A Billion Dollars
Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize belongs to me, it is all copyrighted and owned by other people, and I make zero money off of this story.
Author's Note: This story is the companion piece to Dr FooFoo's "The Kumquats", and is written and posted here with express permission to do so.
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The backroom is crowded and full of smoke, but Greg doesn’t notice as he preps himself for the show. He’s got a routine. He does it every time he goes on stage, though the music he chooses is always different. Tonight it’s low key sultry chill out, and this stuff always manages to get his fire started, then keep the coals just below simmering. The smooth tones are enough to get him thinking about -- and then absolutely feeling -- sex, and tonight he needs that to do what he plans to do.
Sara’s been coming to his shows for about a year now, and six months ago she started asking Nick to come along. He hadn’t planned it at first, but she notices everything, sneaky CSI, and she figured out how Greg felt about Nick the first time she told him Nick declined the invite to the show. So she started trying to help, and thank God the girl can do subtle, because Greg couldn’t stand it if his crush turned into all out pure awkwardness for everyone at work.
But she said tonight Nick’s agreed to come to the show, and Greg’s been wanting this so bad he needs the soothing, sexy influence of the music to keep him calm and focused. Except now it’s almost time to go onstage, so Greg disconnects from the MP3 player and sips from his bottle of water. He won’t drink anything for three hours before he goes on stage, bathroom breaks in the middle of a set tend to kill the mood, and then he always has a beer right before he goes on stage.
He puts down his water bottle, rolls his shoulders and jumps around a little to get the blood flowing, and then he’s out the door and heading for the stage. He works his way through the crowd, keeping his mind on the show, running through the set in his head, and then he sees him.
Nick is leaning against a pillar off to the side of the stage, and he’s staring at the ground as though he can find the words there that will make him feel less uncomfortable in this place, and Greg can’t help but suck in a breath at how incredibly adorable the man looks, standing all tense and trying to blend into the concrete.
Greg feels like he’s just won a million bucks and gets the satisfied smirk on his face to prove it. Nick is here, and tonight Greg is feeling good, and nothing can get him down. He walks over and places his feet, favorite sneakers in residence, directly into Nick’s line of vision.
He watches as Nick’s eyes roll up his body, and waits for just the right moment to make his move. Cute smirk in place – check. Sexy jeans on – check. Confident, relaxed stance – check. And then Nick’s chocolate eyes meet his and it’s all he can do to keep up this calm veneer while inside he’s doing cartwheels.
“Hey, Stokes,” says Greg, and waits for Nick’s response. His eyes darken, he clears his throat several times and then he just manages to croak out “hello” and Greg knows he’s got Nick exactly where he wants him. His million dollar win has just turned into a billion and he grins wholeheartedly.
Sara walks up just then and hands a beer over to Greg – this is routine, too – and Greg takes the opportunity to give Nick the once over and my God, the man is hard. Greg’s cartwheels have turned into back flips and he’s gulping down the beer to cover the smirk of superiority he just knows he’s sporting and he can feel himself growing hard in response to Nick obvious reaction to him. He can feel Nick watching him and that just makes him harder.
Just then the guitarist is starts warming up and it brings Greg’s mind back to the show. He hands the cup back to Sara and brushes past Nick to go to climb onto the stage and his hand slides over the curve of Nick’s ass with Greg hardly even thinking about it.
And then he’s on the stage and it’s all focus on the routine for a bit, get the turntables and the mix right, and does it all sound balanced in the headphones and then the music starts and Greg just eases into it. The songs are familiar enough it’s just like driving home for Greg. He’s pays attention enough to make sure he’s stopping at the appropriate lights and he can avoid any head-on collisions, but other than that everything is familiar, the when’s and how’s and what’s like second nature. And it’s so familiar he’s able to let his mind wander and it makes a beeline strait to thoughts about Nick. And Nick is out there watching him do his thing and he’s never had Nick pay this much attention to him before and he doesn’t have to watch what he says or what he does or how he moves because this is his territory. And he’s hard again thinking about Nick’s eyes being on him.
He chances a glance during the song break and Nick is smiling at Sara and nodding at something she’s said and those crinkles at the corners of his eyes are just too much for Greg, so he decides he’s not going to take it slow and it’s either his place or Nick’s place, but they’ll be somewhere together tonight.
The next song keys up and Greg turns on the charm, no holds barred. He knows what this look does to other men in clubs and tonight it’s all for Nick. And the bass is rockin’ and everything is smooth playin’ and Greg can’t help but just feel the sensuality of the music course through him, and he takes that energy and directs it at Nick, too. Nick’s eyes don’t leave his for a moment of the set and Greg can’t help but respect that the man hasn’t backed down from the stare. And then the show’s over and the crowd is filing out and Greg moves in for the kill.
He jumps off the stage and saunters over to Nick and Sara. She’s saying something about how awesome the show was and Greg appreciates it, he really does, but he’s got other things to think about right now, and his eyes never leave Nick’s for a moment. He’s grinning ear-to-ear at how fantastically this night is going and he sees that Nick is blushing. That blush sends a shot of heat strait to his groin and now Greg can’t even wait to leave the club. He’s gotta find out right now how far down that blush goes and if it tastes as good as it looks.
He mutters something about Nick helping him clean up in the washroom and then turns and makes his way there. They get in the door and Greg turns around and Nick has still got that blush and Greg has to taste it now!
He pushes Nick into a stall and up against the filthy wall and leans in for his first taste and oh, God! The man tastes sweet and salty and there’s the slight tang of aftershave and the skin is a delightful mixture of soft and then scratchy where his stubble is and Greg can’t. Get. Enough. This is so much more than anything he expected and he’s desperately trying to taste as much of Nick as possible. He’s got to be closer so he pushes himself against Nick and gasps at the hot, hard feel of him and then he is vaguely aware that Nick is kissing him and he kisses back while he shrugs his jacket off and tosses it away. But before long Greg has gotta taste more, and there’ll be time for kissing later, but he needs the flavor of Nick in his mouth so he’s more intent on getting Nick’s pants open and down than on kissing well. And suddenly his hand is at Nick’s crotch and the man is hot and hard and Greg doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed having his hand down another man’s pants before today.
He pulls his lips away from Nick’s and starts kissing and sucking a trail down his neck, going back to marking him the way he’s thought about for months and Nick’ll probably be angry tomorrow but right now…Oh, God. Right now Nick’s hands are on Greg’s hips and it’s enough to remind Greg that he was on a mission to taste as much of Nick as possible in as little amount of time and he drops to his knees to get access at what he wants.
He’ll worry tomorrow about the fact that he’s been kneeling in a filthy bathroom stall at a seedy off-strip club probably ruining his sexy jeans forever, but right now he’s gotta have Nick in his mouth. He pushes up on Nick’s shirt and tugs down on his pants and then all he has is a perfect view of what he’s wanted for so long. He let’s out a breath and takes a lick from bottom to top, savoring the salty-tangy sex taste of Nick. And then he’s working his damndest to push Nick over the edge.
And this is where the focus that Greg prides himself on comes in, because he can taste and savor and enjoy Nick while at the same time paying attention to every response Nick has, learning how and when and where he likes it. And Nick is definitely responsive. His hands are all over Greg’s shoulders and sliding back to grip his neck and Nick’s hips are moving almost imperceptibly. Greg knows their time is limited, though, so he swallows Nick in an effort to speed things up and he feels Nick’s hands tugging on his hair as he groans softly at the pressure. God, but that groan is hot and it skyrockets right down to Greg’s cock and he’s suddenly harder than he’s ever been but he knows exactly where they are and how terrible it would be if they got caught, so he looks up at Nick and pleads with his eyes for him to be quiet.
Nick gets the message and shuts his eyes tight. Greg returns to his job and sucks harder, willing Nick to be done, willing Nick to give in and let go. And then without any clear buildup Nick is tensing up and spilling into Greg’s mouth and he takes all of Nick’s release, greedy enough to keep it to himself. He cleans Nick up with his tongue, kisses him gently and then tucks him away, zipping his fly and sliding up his body to get at his mouth.
He kisses Nick and shares the residual flavor with him, enjoying what he’s just done to this quiet, stoic man he’s wanted for so long. Nick starts mumbling something about returning the favor and his cock twitches at the thought, but Greg knows they’ve pushed the envelope too far so he shakes his head no. He leans in towards Nick’s ear and whispers something about his apartment being better and more comfortable and then pulls away to tug on his jacket.
He really planned on leaving but Nick looks so cute leaning against the stall wall, his face relaxed and confused at the same time, so Greg leans in and kisses his neck again, nibbling and licking a bit.
Suddenly, Nick’s talking, and Greg has to process what Nick has just said because he wasn’t really paying attention. He’s asked about the name of the band, why they chose The Kumquats. Greg smirks and says, “I’ll just leave that one up to your imagination,” and then takes Nick’s earlobe in his teeth for a second before walking away.
Tonight, thinks Greg, is so much better than winning a billion dollars.
Author's Note: This story is the companion piece to Dr FooFoo's "The Kumquats", and is written and posted here with express permission to do so.
The backroom is crowded and full of smoke, but Greg doesn’t notice as he preps himself for the show. He’s got a routine. He does it every time he goes on stage, though the music he chooses is always different. Tonight it’s low key sultry chill out, and this stuff always manages to get his fire started, then keep the coals just below simmering. The smooth tones are enough to get him thinking about -- and then absolutely feeling -- sex, and tonight he needs that to do what he plans to do.
Sara’s been coming to his shows for about a year now, and six months ago she started asking Nick to come along. He hadn’t planned it at first, but she notices everything, sneaky CSI, and she figured out how Greg felt about Nick the first time she told him Nick declined the invite to the show. So she started trying to help, and thank God the girl can do subtle, because Greg couldn’t stand it if his crush turned into all out pure awkwardness for everyone at work.
But she said tonight Nick’s agreed to come to the show, and Greg’s been wanting this so bad he needs the soothing, sexy influence of the music to keep him calm and focused. Except now it’s almost time to go onstage, so Greg disconnects from the MP3 player and sips from his bottle of water. He won’t drink anything for three hours before he goes on stage, bathroom breaks in the middle of a set tend to kill the mood, and then he always has a beer right before he goes on stage.
He puts down his water bottle, rolls his shoulders and jumps around a little to get the blood flowing, and then he’s out the door and heading for the stage. He works his way through the crowd, keeping his mind on the show, running through the set in his head, and then he sees him.
Nick is leaning against a pillar off to the side of the stage, and he’s staring at the ground as though he can find the words there that will make him feel less uncomfortable in this place, and Greg can’t help but suck in a breath at how incredibly adorable the man looks, standing all tense and trying to blend into the concrete.
Greg feels like he’s just won a million bucks and gets the satisfied smirk on his face to prove it. Nick is here, and tonight Greg is feeling good, and nothing can get him down. He walks over and places his feet, favorite sneakers in residence, directly into Nick’s line of vision.
He watches as Nick’s eyes roll up his body, and waits for just the right moment to make his move. Cute smirk in place – check. Sexy jeans on – check. Confident, relaxed stance – check. And then Nick’s chocolate eyes meet his and it’s all he can do to keep up this calm veneer while inside he’s doing cartwheels.
“Hey, Stokes,” says Greg, and waits for Nick’s response. His eyes darken, he clears his throat several times and then he just manages to croak out “hello” and Greg knows he’s got Nick exactly where he wants him. His million dollar win has just turned into a billion and he grins wholeheartedly.
Sara walks up just then and hands a beer over to Greg – this is routine, too – and Greg takes the opportunity to give Nick the once over and my God, the man is hard. Greg’s cartwheels have turned into back flips and he’s gulping down the beer to cover the smirk of superiority he just knows he’s sporting and he can feel himself growing hard in response to Nick obvious reaction to him. He can feel Nick watching him and that just makes him harder.
Just then the guitarist is starts warming up and it brings Greg’s mind back to the show. He hands the cup back to Sara and brushes past Nick to go to climb onto the stage and his hand slides over the curve of Nick’s ass with Greg hardly even thinking about it.
And then he’s on the stage and it’s all focus on the routine for a bit, get the turntables and the mix right, and does it all sound balanced in the headphones and then the music starts and Greg just eases into it. The songs are familiar enough it’s just like driving home for Greg. He’s pays attention enough to make sure he’s stopping at the appropriate lights and he can avoid any head-on collisions, but other than that everything is familiar, the when’s and how’s and what’s like second nature. And it’s so familiar he’s able to let his mind wander and it makes a beeline strait to thoughts about Nick. And Nick is out there watching him do his thing and he’s never had Nick pay this much attention to him before and he doesn’t have to watch what he says or what he does or how he moves because this is his territory. And he’s hard again thinking about Nick’s eyes being on him.
He chances a glance during the song break and Nick is smiling at Sara and nodding at something she’s said and those crinkles at the corners of his eyes are just too much for Greg, so he decides he’s not going to take it slow and it’s either his place or Nick’s place, but they’ll be somewhere together tonight.
The next song keys up and Greg turns on the charm, no holds barred. He knows what this look does to other men in clubs and tonight it’s all for Nick. And the bass is rockin’ and everything is smooth playin’ and Greg can’t help but just feel the sensuality of the music course through him, and he takes that energy and directs it at Nick, too. Nick’s eyes don’t leave his for a moment of the set and Greg can’t help but respect that the man hasn’t backed down from the stare. And then the show’s over and the crowd is filing out and Greg moves in for the kill.
He jumps off the stage and saunters over to Nick and Sara. She’s saying something about how awesome the show was and Greg appreciates it, he really does, but he’s got other things to think about right now, and his eyes never leave Nick’s for a moment. He’s grinning ear-to-ear at how fantastically this night is going and he sees that Nick is blushing. That blush sends a shot of heat strait to his groin and now Greg can’t even wait to leave the club. He’s gotta find out right now how far down that blush goes and if it tastes as good as it looks.
He mutters something about Nick helping him clean up in the washroom and then turns and makes his way there. They get in the door and Greg turns around and Nick has still got that blush and Greg has to taste it now!
He pushes Nick into a stall and up against the filthy wall and leans in for his first taste and oh, God! The man tastes sweet and salty and there’s the slight tang of aftershave and the skin is a delightful mixture of soft and then scratchy where his stubble is and Greg can’t. Get. Enough. This is so much more than anything he expected and he’s desperately trying to taste as much of Nick as possible. He’s got to be closer so he pushes himself against Nick and gasps at the hot, hard feel of him and then he is vaguely aware that Nick is kissing him and he kisses back while he shrugs his jacket off and tosses it away. But before long Greg has gotta taste more, and there’ll be time for kissing later, but he needs the flavor of Nick in his mouth so he’s more intent on getting Nick’s pants open and down than on kissing well. And suddenly his hand is at Nick’s crotch and the man is hot and hard and Greg doesn’t think he’s ever enjoyed having his hand down another man’s pants before today.
He pulls his lips away from Nick’s and starts kissing and sucking a trail down his neck, going back to marking him the way he’s thought about for months and Nick’ll probably be angry tomorrow but right now…Oh, God. Right now Nick’s hands are on Greg’s hips and it’s enough to remind Greg that he was on a mission to taste as much of Nick as possible in as little amount of time and he drops to his knees to get access at what he wants.
He’ll worry tomorrow about the fact that he’s been kneeling in a filthy bathroom stall at a seedy off-strip club probably ruining his sexy jeans forever, but right now he’s gotta have Nick in his mouth. He pushes up on Nick’s shirt and tugs down on his pants and then all he has is a perfect view of what he’s wanted for so long. He let’s out a breath and takes a lick from bottom to top, savoring the salty-tangy sex taste of Nick. And then he’s working his damndest to push Nick over the edge.
And this is where the focus that Greg prides himself on comes in, because he can taste and savor and enjoy Nick while at the same time paying attention to every response Nick has, learning how and when and where he likes it. And Nick is definitely responsive. His hands are all over Greg’s shoulders and sliding back to grip his neck and Nick’s hips are moving almost imperceptibly. Greg knows their time is limited, though, so he swallows Nick in an effort to speed things up and he feels Nick’s hands tugging on his hair as he groans softly at the pressure. God, but that groan is hot and it skyrockets right down to Greg’s cock and he’s suddenly harder than he’s ever been but he knows exactly where they are and how terrible it would be if they got caught, so he looks up at Nick and pleads with his eyes for him to be quiet.
Nick gets the message and shuts his eyes tight. Greg returns to his job and sucks harder, willing Nick to be done, willing Nick to give in and let go. And then without any clear buildup Nick is tensing up and spilling into Greg’s mouth and he takes all of Nick’s release, greedy enough to keep it to himself. He cleans Nick up with his tongue, kisses him gently and then tucks him away, zipping his fly and sliding up his body to get at his mouth.
He kisses Nick and shares the residual flavor with him, enjoying what he’s just done to this quiet, stoic man he’s wanted for so long. Nick starts mumbling something about returning the favor and his cock twitches at the thought, but Greg knows they’ve pushed the envelope too far so he shakes his head no. He leans in towards Nick’s ear and whispers something about his apartment being better and more comfortable and then pulls away to tug on his jacket.
He really planned on leaving but Nick looks so cute leaning against the stall wall, his face relaxed and confused at the same time, so Greg leans in and kisses his neck again, nibbling and licking a bit.
Suddenly, Nick’s talking, and Greg has to process what Nick has just said because he wasn’t really paying attention. He’s asked about the name of the band, why they chose The Kumquats. Greg smirks and says, “I’ll just leave that one up to your imagination,” and then takes Nick’s earlobe in his teeth for a second before walking away.
Tonight, thinks Greg, is so much better than winning a billion dollars.