{Fic} May 1: Thin White Line (CSI Las Vegas; Gil/Greg)
Thin White Line
By Clarity Scifiroots
Regular disclaimers apply. Title is a song by Afterhours
Fandom/Pairing: CSI Las Vegas - Gil/Greg
Spoilers: Reference to a single (generic) line in “Big Shot.”
Rated: FRAO
WARNINGS: Graphic sex with little redeeming value
Summary: For
kate_mct who wanted Gil/Greg smut post-“Empty Eyes” or “Big Shot.” I just watched “Big Shot” and decided I could do this for the first day of May. =)
May Fic 1 of 31
---
“You know, it does matter what you think,” Greg says later. He stands with his back pressed against a wall in Gil’s dark apartment, wriggling to help his lover undress him.
“Not now,” Gil hisses in his ear. His fingers curl over the waistband of Greg’s jeans and his thumbs brush over the button and zipper.
Greg lifts his hips and tangles his hands in Gil’s hair. Steady hands slide away jeans and briefs. After a brief struggle Greg is left in his socks and unbuttoned shirt. The only light in the room comes from the city outside, but he can feel Gil’s eyes raking over him. He shivers and digs his fingertips into Gil’s biceps, silently begging that they move on. He feels horrifyingly vulnerable as he stands, mostly naked, in front of his fully-clothed lover. He prefers it when he has a little more power in their sex life. When Gil takes this much control Greg’s eerily reminded of their work relationship, and he’s not ready to inspect that strange twist in his gut at the thought.
“Please,” he whispers, leaning forward in attempts to wrap Gil’s body around his. “Let’s go to bed.”
Instead Gil pulls him towards the couch. He keeps Greg standing while he sits in the middle. His hands continue resting on Greg’s hips. He looks up with a small smile, the faintest glint of teeth showing in the dim light. Greg closes his eyes and trembles when he feels Gil slide one hand down to cup his balls. He begins to pant when Gil’s lips surround his cock and the slick, warm mouth descends inch by inch.
Greg reaches out reflexively for balance. One hand rests against Gil’s shoulder, the other presses against the back of Gil’s head. His fingers knead into the cushion of grey curls and his hips begin to rock in a matching pattern.
It’s not long before Gil pulls back. Greg barely catches his balance. His breathing sounds too loud in the silence. He looks at Gil through half-lidded eyes and knows what to do when Gil releases him.
He settles on his knees in front of the couch and focuses on his hands as he untucks Gil’s shirt and fingers the buttons open. As he unbuttons the shirt from the bottom-up he rolls up the undershirt and mouths kisses up the bared torso. He helps Gil loose the shirts but is stopped from taking off his own. Gil lets go of his wrists and leans in for a forceful kiss. Greg presses up to meet him, already knowing that he has lost any control of the situation.
Gil slides his index finger into Greg’s mouth, pushing it in and out as Greg moves trembling hands to the fastening of his pants. Gil slides another finger in after they’ve worked his pants and underwear to his knees. Greg fixes his stare on Gil’s erection as he swirls his tongue over and around and between Gil’s fingers.
Gil withdraws and wipes the spit-slick fingers over his cock. Greg takes a shuddering breath and leans over. Gil wraps his hands around Greg’s wrists and pulls him off balance. Awkwardly the younger man falls face first into his lap and gasps in surprise. He quickly catches on, sorting out how to balance himself while Gil has his hands trapped. Gil kisses Greg’s knuckles in approval when tongue meets taunt flesh. Greg’s mouth works slowly up Gil’s cock, taking his own sweet time. Gil fixes that as soon as Greg has the tip of his cock in his mouth. Abruptly Gil lifts his hips and Greg’s lips slide down the shaft, slick from sweat and pre-cum. Gil can feel throat muscles vigorously swallowing as Greg forces himself to adjust. Greg does his best to establish a pace, but Gil needs something more. He lets go of Greg’s wrists to instead curl around the younger man’s head.
“Come on,” he says, his hips lifting off the couch as he guides Greg’s head down.
Greg sucks desperately in response and adjusts his weight now that he has his arms free. Gil presses his shoulders and head against the couch. Pleasure rolls through him, spiraling ever inward as he works his hips harder. Greg takes him farther. Gil’s orgasm rushes through him hard and fast. Even though Greg swallows quickly there is cum trickling from one corner of his mouth when Gil pulls out.
Gil pulls Greg onto his lap and licks the other man’s lips. Greg’s mouth is hot and swollen from sucking. Gil continues to work Greg’s mouth as he slides a hand down to wrap around his lover’s erection. Greg makes quiet little noises on nights like this; Gil doesn’t know why. When they’re in bed in a tangle of limbs and sweat Greg occasionally talks; and when Gil enters him while they stare are each other face-to-face, Greg shouts and groans and keens. Now, though, Gil pumps Greg’s cock and nips at his lover’s lips and he gets little more than an aborted moan. He takes Greg over the edge by slipping his free hand around and down the swell of Greg’s ass, fingering with care his lover’s anus. Greg comes with a breathy groan and rocks tensely against Gil’s torso.
As he recovers, Gil uses the edge of Greg’s shirt to wipe up the strings of semen. Greg is stroking his shoulder by the time he is done. When he looks up he finds Greg’s gaze focused somewhere beyond him, beyond this room, lost perhaps in some memory.
“Greg,” he says, leaning in to kiss his lover’s clavicle.
Greg responds to that and nuzzles Gil’s neck. “It does matter,” he murmurs.
Gil hums something assuring, but he doesn’t recall what Greg is referring to and doesn’t think it important enough to ask.
---
“Do you think it’s wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think.”
~ Greg, Gil in “Big Shots”
By Clarity Scifiroots
Regular disclaimers apply. Title is a song by Afterhours
Fandom/Pairing: CSI Las Vegas - Gil/Greg
Spoilers: Reference to a single (generic) line in “Big Shot.”
Rated: FRAO
WARNINGS: Graphic sex with little redeeming value
Summary: For
kate_mct who wanted Gil/Greg smut post-“Empty Eyes” or “Big Shot.” I just watched “Big Shot” and decided I could do this for the first day of May. =)
May Fic 1 of 31
---
“You know, it does matter what you think,” Greg says later. He stands with his back pressed against a wall in Gil’s dark apartment, wriggling to help his lover undress him.
“Not now,” Gil hisses in his ear. His fingers curl over the waistband of Greg’s jeans and his thumbs brush over the button and zipper.
Greg lifts his hips and tangles his hands in Gil’s hair. Steady hands slide away jeans and briefs. After a brief struggle Greg is left in his socks and unbuttoned shirt. The only light in the room comes from the city outside, but he can feel Gil’s eyes raking over him. He shivers and digs his fingertips into Gil’s biceps, silently begging that they move on. He feels horrifyingly vulnerable as he stands, mostly naked, in front of his fully-clothed lover. He prefers it when he has a little more power in their sex life. When Gil takes this much control Greg’s eerily reminded of their work relationship, and he’s not ready to inspect that strange twist in his gut at the thought.
“Please,” he whispers, leaning forward in attempts to wrap Gil’s body around his. “Let’s go to bed.”
Instead Gil pulls him towards the couch. He keeps Greg standing while he sits in the middle. His hands continue resting on Greg’s hips. He looks up with a small smile, the faintest glint of teeth showing in the dim light. Greg closes his eyes and trembles when he feels Gil slide one hand down to cup his balls. He begins to pant when Gil’s lips surround his cock and the slick, warm mouth descends inch by inch.
Greg reaches out reflexively for balance. One hand rests against Gil’s shoulder, the other presses against the back of Gil’s head. His fingers knead into the cushion of grey curls and his hips begin to rock in a matching pattern.
It’s not long before Gil pulls back. Greg barely catches his balance. His breathing sounds too loud in the silence. He looks at Gil through half-lidded eyes and knows what to do when Gil releases him.
He settles on his knees in front of the couch and focuses on his hands as he untucks Gil’s shirt and fingers the buttons open. As he unbuttons the shirt from the bottom-up he rolls up the undershirt and mouths kisses up the bared torso. He helps Gil loose the shirts but is stopped from taking off his own. Gil lets go of his wrists and leans in for a forceful kiss. Greg presses up to meet him, already knowing that he has lost any control of the situation.
Gil slides his index finger into Greg’s mouth, pushing it in and out as Greg moves trembling hands to the fastening of his pants. Gil slides another finger in after they’ve worked his pants and underwear to his knees. Greg fixes his stare on Gil’s erection as he swirls his tongue over and around and between Gil’s fingers.
Gil withdraws and wipes the spit-slick fingers over his cock. Greg takes a shuddering breath and leans over. Gil wraps his hands around Greg’s wrists and pulls him off balance. Awkwardly the younger man falls face first into his lap and gasps in surprise. He quickly catches on, sorting out how to balance himself while Gil has his hands trapped. Gil kisses Greg’s knuckles in approval when tongue meets taunt flesh. Greg’s mouth works slowly up Gil’s cock, taking his own sweet time. Gil fixes that as soon as Greg has the tip of his cock in his mouth. Abruptly Gil lifts his hips and Greg’s lips slide down the shaft, slick from sweat and pre-cum. Gil can feel throat muscles vigorously swallowing as Greg forces himself to adjust. Greg does his best to establish a pace, but Gil needs something more. He lets go of Greg’s wrists to instead curl around the younger man’s head.
“Come on,” he says, his hips lifting off the couch as he guides Greg’s head down.
Greg sucks desperately in response and adjusts his weight now that he has his arms free. Gil presses his shoulders and head against the couch. Pleasure rolls through him, spiraling ever inward as he works his hips harder. Greg takes him farther. Gil’s orgasm rushes through him hard and fast. Even though Greg swallows quickly there is cum trickling from one corner of his mouth when Gil pulls out.
Gil pulls Greg onto his lap and licks the other man’s lips. Greg’s mouth is hot and swollen from sucking. Gil continues to work Greg’s mouth as he slides a hand down to wrap around his lover’s erection. Greg makes quiet little noises on nights like this; Gil doesn’t know why. When they’re in bed in a tangle of limbs and sweat Greg occasionally talks; and when Gil enters him while they stare are each other face-to-face, Greg shouts and groans and keens. Now, though, Gil pumps Greg’s cock and nips at his lover’s lips and he gets little more than an aborted moan. He takes Greg over the edge by slipping his free hand around and down the swell of Greg’s ass, fingering with care his lover’s anus. Greg comes with a breathy groan and rocks tensely against Gil’s torso.
As he recovers, Gil uses the edge of Greg’s shirt to wipe up the strings of semen. Greg is stroking his shoulder by the time he is done. When he looks up he finds Greg’s gaze focused somewhere beyond him, beyond this room, lost perhaps in some memory.
“Greg,” he says, leaning in to kiss his lover’s clavicle.
Greg responds to that and nuzzles Gil’s neck. “It does matter,” he murmurs.
Gil hums something assuring, but he doesn’t recall what Greg is referring to and doesn’t think it important enough to ask.
---
“Do you think it’s wrong?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think.”
~ Greg, Gil in “Big Shots”