Ashes And Wine (Ten)
Title: Ashes And Wine (Ten)
Author: Nat
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,458
Pairing: Gil/Nick, +Lady Heather
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes, (Lady) Heather Kessler and occasional cameos by other cast members.
Warnings: Adults only, please.
Spoilers: N/A
Disclaimer: You know the "I don't own these two" drill, so I won't bore you.
Unbeta-ed: I'm too busy to spell check. I do my best.
Summary: Part Two Of A Series. Follows Love The Way You Lie (which I strongly suggest reading first. This might be a fun read solo, but will make much more sense as a second part.) Following the confusion and angst incurred by all in the First Part of this Series, Gil tries to figure out the best way to dig he and Nick out from under the unusual mess he has created...before it's too late.
A/N 1: Thanks to dear_supervisor for some suggestions AND sobran for the faboo icon.
A/N 2: Ok, Ok. Going to finish this story out. I felt too bad taking a total hiatus from it. Hope it's worth it!
They say you always remember your first time. I’ve had a lot of them. Different firsts, of course. And I do remember all of them. I remember losing my virginity. A clumsy mess of an occasion my junior year as an undergrad with a girl I had attempted to tutor, but who seemed more interested in studying anatomy than physics. And my first time with a man was no less unfortunate. A colleague I met at the first conference I attended out of school that turned a post-speaking engagement discussion into a bottle of champagne and an unruly romp on a hotel room floor.
But neither of them stand out as clearly as the firsts that I count as memories of Nick. The first time I met him…when he introduced himself to me shyly at a forensics convention before he had even moved to Las Vegas. I remember there was a lit sign behind me that was reflecting in his eyes as he spoke and had it not been for his thick and charming accent I might not have heard a word he said, instead I was lost in the lights that were dancing in his glassy brown eyes. And I remember the first day he was in the lab - the way he stood in the locker room organizing his things over and over again as an anti-nerve mechanism before finally going out into the field with Warrick. I remember that he wore a softball shirt with navy blue sleeves and a light blue body over worn blue jeans. Just like I remember the way he smelled like a fresh shower the first night we worked a scene together.
And I remember the first time I was alone with him…really alone with him…in Denver. I remember the way he bit his lip anxiously when he walked into the bedroom and saw me. And I remember the almost painful slowness with which he peeled his clothes off of his body. And I remember the way the dim light in the room played off of the arches and ridges of his body as I watched him crawl into the bed across from me. I remember looking at his across the room as we both caught our breath together after the sheer exertion of performing for one another. And I remember the first time I felt the real fear of losing Nick.
It felt silly to be nervous, but I was. There was no way around it. I had been with Nick twice, not to mention the countless times I had watched him even if I wasn’t participating. But this was a first. Making love with Nick. And it was wholly and awesomely different.
I watched from the doorway as Nick undressed himself. And he paused only for a moment once he stood in nothing but his boxers beside the bed we had first been together in. His eyes met mine in a silent kind of questioning, and I wasn’t sure if he was seeing the answer he wanted to see. But either way, he slowly reached for the waist of his boxers and, running his thumbs under the elastic, eased them down off of his hips and stepped out of them. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I watched him but regardless my legs had already begun to carry me towards the bed. Towards him. I climbed into the opposite side of the bed as I was still managing to pull my clothing off in a way that seemed a lot less graceful than Nick had done. And soon enough we were facing each other on the bed, both of us kneeling which put us at eye level with each other. I raised my hand and touched the side of Nick’s face, suddenly more acutely aware of the heat in his skin. He closed his eyes and hummed gently at my touch. I felt him scoot gently into me until he was pressed against me on the bed.
I found my fingers lazily tracing over parts of his face as if I was blind and trying to see what he looked like. He opened his eyes slowly and watched my face as I did so, finally letting his hands find a resting place on my hips. He smiled slowly.
“I’m not fragile, you know?” He whispered as I continued to touch him. “You won’t break me.”
I let myself smile a little bit as I watched his mouth move. Nick pressed his body into mine firmly, as if he were offering himself to me. I was confused by his body language momentarily, and he must have sensed my apprehension. He reached for my hand as I stroked his cheek and slowly pushed it - using more force than he would have had to - down the front of his body and onto his cock, fitting my fingers around it snugly and groaning as he shifted into my closing fist. Nick’s eyes fluttered closed and he pushed his head into my shoulder. I let my hand close tightly around him and moved instinctively to bring him off…not that I wanted him to come. Yet. He was pushing against me hard and the wet tip of his cock was brushing against my stomach and turning me on more than any touch I had ever felt. I let my free hand wander up his back until my fingers were in the hair at the back of his neck. I let my fingers grab at it and tug until I pulled his head back sharply, holding his head tight - controlling him. A wicked smile spread across his face.
“That’s it.” He whispered, still grinning at me. I raised any eyebrow. “What?” He continued, his head still trapped in my hand as I slowed my other hand on him.
“I…I just thought you wouldn’t like to…” I wasn’t sure how to find the right words. What was it that I didn’t think Nick would like? Losing control? Being under my thumb? Letting me call the shots?
“I never minded you controlling me, Grissom. I just minded going through it alone.”
The smile dropped slightly, just enough to let me know he meant it. And then it reappeared as he felt my hand tighten in his hair and pull his head further back before I lost myself in his neck - slamming my mouth against his skin and licking and biting every inch of it as I picked up my pace on his cock, listening to him whimper in my ear.
We made love for what must have been hours. Face to face. Lost in each other. Lost without the stress and confusion we had been feeling. I manipulated Nick’s body in the ways I had only watched from a distance before, and I made him come twice before giving into it myself. But finally, laying over him…our chests slick with sweat as he worked to spread his legs wide enough to wrap around my waist. We moved together gently. I wrapped my arms around his head and cradled it. I talked to him consistently. Asking him how it felt, wondering what he liked and didn’t. And he answered me matter of factly. We moved in silence for awhile, too, until Nick whispered softly and so close to my ear that I could feel the heat of his lips on my ear lobe.
“I love you.”
I felt my body tighten under his whisper as I came slowly inside of him. It was long and perfect and Nick moved exactly like he knew what I needed. I don’t remember anything after that, and when I woke up, I became convinced that there wasn’t much to remember. I was still on top of Nick when I woke up. I had slumped slightly off of him, and was laying half on top of his body, which was still splayed out underneath of me, one arm up over his eyes as if he meant to keep the daylight out. I watched him for awhile until he started to stir.
Days turned into weeks and Nick did, in fact, begin to work dutifully on Heather’s house. Actually…it was Nick who turned it from a house into a home. He painted. He knocked down walls. He seemed to take great pride in his work, even when it didn’t turn out the way he had hoped. And the room that Nick and I had slept together in that first night became the room we called our own for those months. Nick didn’t feel comfortable leaving Heather alone, and I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Nick alone. So the three of us managed to function as some sort of family - looking after one another. And there was a strange sort of unusual comfort in it.
I was laying in bed one unseasonably cool afternoon in the quiet of Heather’s house. I was alone. Nick had taken Heather to a doctor’s appointment…appointments that had become more frequent for no other reason than the moment when our unconventional threesome became an even more unconventional foursome was drawing nearer. It never got any easier though. The idea of the two of them going through something together that I would never understand - not really ever be a part of. I was trying to ignore it by losing myself in a book while I laid in a bed that still smelled like Nick, but it wasn’t working. Instead I shuffled lazily out of bed and down the hall to the room next to ours - the room that Nick was fashioning into a nursery. I pushed the glassed French doors that Nick had installed open gently and smiled to myself at the room he was crafting. It was bright and open - with large windows and a pale yellow paint. It stood in stark contrast to the dark mahoganies and browns of Heather’s house. And I liked it. I walked across the room and towards the windows, casually looking over the boxes of materials that were still sitting along the room’s perimeters - picture frames, drapes, shelves…and a large crib that Nick has asked to me to help him assemble. Not that he needed the help, but he knew I needed to feel included.
“You feeling up to a little do-it-yourself project today?” Nick’s voice startled me from behind, and I turned to face him. Glad that he was home. He was holding his hands behind his back and I was trying to inspect it as Heather rounded the corner. Nick must have helped her up the stairs…she had rarely made the trip upstairs since she had been on bed rest. She smiled easily as she entered the room, admiring it.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” She was still looking around and taking it in as she spoke, happier now than she had seemed in as many years as I had known her. I was still concerned about whatever it was that was lingering behind Nick’s back. I gestured to it.
“So, what are you hiding, Nick?” I took a step towards him and he smiled, strangely and uniquely.
“That do it yourself project I was talking about.”
Nick swung his arm around his side and held up a gallon of paint. Blue paint.
“It’s a boy.” He continued, his eyes gleaming slightly as he watched me for a reaction. I felt a smile spread across my face.
“Congratulations, Nicky.” I paused for a moment, not sure what to say. “So you want to repaint the room blue?”
Nick looked around.
“No. I like the yellow. But I thought we could paint something on the walls. You know…equations…”
“I thought we agreed on sailboats?” Heather chuckled as she interjected. The three of us shared a little laugh and then paused in silence for a moment. “You should tell him, Nick. Tell him the rest…”
I watched Nick for some clarification as Heather spoke, and no sooner had she finished did she slip back out of the room, leaving us alone. Nick sat the gallon of paint down and straightened himself back up.
“We…decided on a name.”
“Wow. That was fast.”
Nick laughed. But I was being honest. I had no personal experience, but it seemed like that was not a decision parents would come to lightly. Especially not someone like Nick.
“Yeah, well. I’ve kinda had a good idea about it for awhile.”
Nick moved to take his jacket off, which he slung over the rocking chair that was perched in the corner. He looked back at me as he slid his hands into his pockets.
“Well!?” I murmered in spite of myself. I could hardly stand this kind of suspence.
“Finn Warrick….” Nick hesitated. “Grissom.”
I stood and stared at him for what felt like hours. I was unsure of what to do or say and thought my knees might actually go weak beneath me.
“Gr…Grissom…Nick, you don’t have to…”
Nick interrupted me.
“I want to. Look, you married Heather. You’ll be on the birth certificate. And then…we can figure out the logistics later. This is what I want, Gil. You told me to think about myself, right? What I want? This is what I want.”
I stood in silence.
“Ok? Gil?”
I nodded. I couldn’t quite get the answer out that I wanted. To tell him what it meant to me. To express how honored I was that he even entertained the idea of it. I smiled and nodded.
“Unless you don’t want it that way…”
“No, no…” I managed.
“I just figured. If we are gonna do this - you and I - you’re in this thing as much as I am.”
I smiled again. Still struggling to find the right words. Nick smiled, too. Before he moved to leave the room, grabbing his jacket.
“I’m gonna go change. You can start thinking about the best way to paint a sailboat.”
Nick was smiling as he talked, and I finally found my voice.
“Nicky?”
Nick stopped and turned to me, as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.
“Why Finn?”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I do like it. I like it a lot. I was just wondering….”
“Heather thought ‘Gil’ was too much, so I picked another part of a fishes anatomy.”
Nick winked and managed to suck the breath out of my lungs yet again. I paused for a moment as he seemed to develop a shyness in front of me. I choked a little bit on my words.
“Warrick would be honored, Nick. So am I.”
Nick nodded, and I thought for a moment I saw him choking back a little bit, too, but he was able to maneuver past it.
“I love you, Nick.”
“I know you do.”
Author: Nat
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,458
Pairing: Gil/Nick, +Lady Heather
Characters: Gil Grissom, Nick Stokes, (Lady) Heather Kessler and occasional cameos by other cast members.
Warnings: Adults only, please.
Spoilers: N/A
Disclaimer: You know the "I don't own these two" drill, so I won't bore you.
Unbeta-ed: I'm too busy to spell check. I do my best.
Summary: Part Two Of A Series. Follows Love The Way You Lie (which I strongly suggest reading first. This might be a fun read solo, but will make much more sense as a second part.) Following the confusion and angst incurred by all in the First Part of this Series, Gil tries to figure out the best way to dig he and Nick out from under the unusual mess he has created...before it's too late.
A/N 1: Thanks to dear_supervisor for some suggestions AND sobran for the faboo icon.
A/N 2: Ok, Ok. Going to finish this story out. I felt too bad taking a total hiatus from it. Hope it's worth it!
They say you always remember your first time. I’ve had a lot of them. Different firsts, of course. And I do remember all of them. I remember losing my virginity. A clumsy mess of an occasion my junior year as an undergrad with a girl I had attempted to tutor, but who seemed more interested in studying anatomy than physics. And my first time with a man was no less unfortunate. A colleague I met at the first conference I attended out of school that turned a post-speaking engagement discussion into a bottle of champagne and an unruly romp on a hotel room floor.
But neither of them stand out as clearly as the firsts that I count as memories of Nick. The first time I met him…when he introduced himself to me shyly at a forensics convention before he had even moved to Las Vegas. I remember there was a lit sign behind me that was reflecting in his eyes as he spoke and had it not been for his thick and charming accent I might not have heard a word he said, instead I was lost in the lights that were dancing in his glassy brown eyes. And I remember the first day he was in the lab - the way he stood in the locker room organizing his things over and over again as an anti-nerve mechanism before finally going out into the field with Warrick. I remember that he wore a softball shirt with navy blue sleeves and a light blue body over worn blue jeans. Just like I remember the way he smelled like a fresh shower the first night we worked a scene together.
And I remember the first time I was alone with him…really alone with him…in Denver. I remember the way he bit his lip anxiously when he walked into the bedroom and saw me. And I remember the almost painful slowness with which he peeled his clothes off of his body. And I remember the way the dim light in the room played off of the arches and ridges of his body as I watched him crawl into the bed across from me. I remember looking at his across the room as we both caught our breath together after the sheer exertion of performing for one another. And I remember the first time I felt the real fear of losing Nick.
It felt silly to be nervous, but I was. There was no way around it. I had been with Nick twice, not to mention the countless times I had watched him even if I wasn’t participating. But this was a first. Making love with Nick. And it was wholly and awesomely different.
I watched from the doorway as Nick undressed himself. And he paused only for a moment once he stood in nothing but his boxers beside the bed we had first been together in. His eyes met mine in a silent kind of questioning, and I wasn’t sure if he was seeing the answer he wanted to see. But either way, he slowly reached for the waist of his boxers and, running his thumbs under the elastic, eased them down off of his hips and stepped out of them. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as I watched him but regardless my legs had already begun to carry me towards the bed. Towards him. I climbed into the opposite side of the bed as I was still managing to pull my clothing off in a way that seemed a lot less graceful than Nick had done. And soon enough we were facing each other on the bed, both of us kneeling which put us at eye level with each other. I raised my hand and touched the side of Nick’s face, suddenly more acutely aware of the heat in his skin. He closed his eyes and hummed gently at my touch. I felt him scoot gently into me until he was pressed against me on the bed.
I found my fingers lazily tracing over parts of his face as if I was blind and trying to see what he looked like. He opened his eyes slowly and watched my face as I did so, finally letting his hands find a resting place on my hips. He smiled slowly.
“I’m not fragile, you know?” He whispered as I continued to touch him. “You won’t break me.”
I let myself smile a little bit as I watched his mouth move. Nick pressed his body into mine firmly, as if he were offering himself to me. I was confused by his body language momentarily, and he must have sensed my apprehension. He reached for my hand as I stroked his cheek and slowly pushed it - using more force than he would have had to - down the front of his body and onto his cock, fitting my fingers around it snugly and groaning as he shifted into my closing fist. Nick’s eyes fluttered closed and he pushed his head into my shoulder. I let my hand close tightly around him and moved instinctively to bring him off…not that I wanted him to come. Yet. He was pushing against me hard and the wet tip of his cock was brushing against my stomach and turning me on more than any touch I had ever felt. I let my free hand wander up his back until my fingers were in the hair at the back of his neck. I let my fingers grab at it and tug until I pulled his head back sharply, holding his head tight - controlling him. A wicked smile spread across his face.
“That’s it.” He whispered, still grinning at me. I raised any eyebrow. “What?” He continued, his head still trapped in my hand as I slowed my other hand on him.
“I…I just thought you wouldn’t like to…” I wasn’t sure how to find the right words. What was it that I didn’t think Nick would like? Losing control? Being under my thumb? Letting me call the shots?
“I never minded you controlling me, Grissom. I just minded going through it alone.”
The smile dropped slightly, just enough to let me know he meant it. And then it reappeared as he felt my hand tighten in his hair and pull his head further back before I lost myself in his neck - slamming my mouth against his skin and licking and biting every inch of it as I picked up my pace on his cock, listening to him whimper in my ear.
We made love for what must have been hours. Face to face. Lost in each other. Lost without the stress and confusion we had been feeling. I manipulated Nick’s body in the ways I had only watched from a distance before, and I made him come twice before giving into it myself. But finally, laying over him…our chests slick with sweat as he worked to spread his legs wide enough to wrap around my waist. We moved together gently. I wrapped my arms around his head and cradled it. I talked to him consistently. Asking him how it felt, wondering what he liked and didn’t. And he answered me matter of factly. We moved in silence for awhile, too, until Nick whispered softly and so close to my ear that I could feel the heat of his lips on my ear lobe.
“I love you.”
I felt my body tighten under his whisper as I came slowly inside of him. It was long and perfect and Nick moved exactly like he knew what I needed. I don’t remember anything after that, and when I woke up, I became convinced that there wasn’t much to remember. I was still on top of Nick when I woke up. I had slumped slightly off of him, and was laying half on top of his body, which was still splayed out underneath of me, one arm up over his eyes as if he meant to keep the daylight out. I watched him for awhile until he started to stir.
Days turned into weeks and Nick did, in fact, begin to work dutifully on Heather’s house. Actually…it was Nick who turned it from a house into a home. He painted. He knocked down walls. He seemed to take great pride in his work, even when it didn’t turn out the way he had hoped. And the room that Nick and I had slept together in that first night became the room we called our own for those months. Nick didn’t feel comfortable leaving Heather alone, and I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Nick alone. So the three of us managed to function as some sort of family - looking after one another. And there was a strange sort of unusual comfort in it.
I was laying in bed one unseasonably cool afternoon in the quiet of Heather’s house. I was alone. Nick had taken Heather to a doctor’s appointment…appointments that had become more frequent for no other reason than the moment when our unconventional threesome became an even more unconventional foursome was drawing nearer. It never got any easier though. The idea of the two of them going through something together that I would never understand - not really ever be a part of. I was trying to ignore it by losing myself in a book while I laid in a bed that still smelled like Nick, but it wasn’t working. Instead I shuffled lazily out of bed and down the hall to the room next to ours - the room that Nick was fashioning into a nursery. I pushed the glassed French doors that Nick had installed open gently and smiled to myself at the room he was crafting. It was bright and open - with large windows and a pale yellow paint. It stood in stark contrast to the dark mahoganies and browns of Heather’s house. And I liked it. I walked across the room and towards the windows, casually looking over the boxes of materials that were still sitting along the room’s perimeters - picture frames, drapes, shelves…and a large crib that Nick has asked to me to help him assemble. Not that he needed the help, but he knew I needed to feel included.
“You feeling up to a little do-it-yourself project today?” Nick’s voice startled me from behind, and I turned to face him. Glad that he was home. He was holding his hands behind his back and I was trying to inspect it as Heather rounded the corner. Nick must have helped her up the stairs…she had rarely made the trip upstairs since she had been on bed rest. She smiled easily as she entered the room, admiring it.
“It’s beautiful isn’t it?” She was still looking around and taking it in as she spoke, happier now than she had seemed in as many years as I had known her. I was still concerned about whatever it was that was lingering behind Nick’s back. I gestured to it.
“So, what are you hiding, Nick?” I took a step towards him and he smiled, strangely and uniquely.
“That do it yourself project I was talking about.”
Nick swung his arm around his side and held up a gallon of paint. Blue paint.
“It’s a boy.” He continued, his eyes gleaming slightly as he watched me for a reaction. I felt a smile spread across my face.
“Congratulations, Nicky.” I paused for a moment, not sure what to say. “So you want to repaint the room blue?”
Nick looked around.
“No. I like the yellow. But I thought we could paint something on the walls. You know…equations…”
“I thought we agreed on sailboats?” Heather chuckled as she interjected. The three of us shared a little laugh and then paused in silence for a moment. “You should tell him, Nick. Tell him the rest…”
I watched Nick for some clarification as Heather spoke, and no sooner had she finished did she slip back out of the room, leaving us alone. Nick sat the gallon of paint down and straightened himself back up.
“We…decided on a name.”
“Wow. That was fast.”
Nick laughed. But I was being honest. I had no personal experience, but it seemed like that was not a decision parents would come to lightly. Especially not someone like Nick.
“Yeah, well. I’ve kinda had a good idea about it for awhile.”
Nick moved to take his jacket off, which he slung over the rocking chair that was perched in the corner. He looked back at me as he slid his hands into his pockets.
“Well!?” I murmered in spite of myself. I could hardly stand this kind of suspence.
“Finn Warrick….” Nick hesitated. “Grissom.”
I stood and stared at him for what felt like hours. I was unsure of what to do or say and thought my knees might actually go weak beneath me.
“Gr…Grissom…Nick, you don’t have to…”
Nick interrupted me.
“I want to. Look, you married Heather. You’ll be on the birth certificate. And then…we can figure out the logistics later. This is what I want, Gil. You told me to think about myself, right? What I want? This is what I want.”
I stood in silence.
“Ok? Gil?”
I nodded. I couldn’t quite get the answer out that I wanted. To tell him what it meant to me. To express how honored I was that he even entertained the idea of it. I smiled and nodded.
“Unless you don’t want it that way…”
“No, no…” I managed.
“I just figured. If we are gonna do this - you and I - you’re in this thing as much as I am.”
I smiled again. Still struggling to find the right words. Nick smiled, too. Before he moved to leave the room, grabbing his jacket.
“I’m gonna go change. You can start thinking about the best way to paint a sailboat.”
Nick was smiling as he talked, and I finally found my voice.
“Nicky?”
Nick stopped and turned to me, as he slung his jacket over his shoulder.
“Why Finn?”
“You don’t like it?”
“No, I do like it. I like it a lot. I was just wondering….”
“Heather thought ‘Gil’ was too much, so I picked another part of a fishes anatomy.”
Nick winked and managed to suck the breath out of my lungs yet again. I paused for a moment as he seemed to develop a shyness in front of me. I choked a little bit on my words.
“Warrick would be honored, Nick. So am I.”
Nick nodded, and I thought for a moment I saw him choking back a little bit, too, but he was able to maneuver past it.
“I love you, Nick.”
“I know you do.”