FIC: To Whom It May Concern (CSI Slash NC17) 11/? Part B
Part B
*
Naturally, it had started with Greg, just after breakfast. Greg seemed to be good at sneaky plans. That wasn’t to say that everyone else was incapable of the deviousness associated with life, it was simply that everyone else tended to be a little more subtle, and there was little subtly in a young man walking confidently up to their boss and dropping to their knees in front of them. But then, Warrick considered as he watched the show in front of him, he guessed that this type of ‘meeting’ required a little bluntness to avoid everyone simply studying their own boots. It wasn’t enough to be aroused by the situation; there had to be intent there as well.
Warrick had no idea how long Grissom had been given to get used to the situation before Warrick had been stirred from his bed, but the man was reacting surprisingly well. His eyebrow had barely flickered upward as Greg looked up at him with all the brown eyed pleading of a collie dog after a doggie biscuit. Grissom had rested one hand on the younger man’s head, a prayer in the world’s most erotic church, and Warrick watched as their superior slipped from work authority to something else entirely.
What was it about him, Warrick wondered critically, what altered in Griss whenever he did that? He didn’t bother with costumes, or scenery, or even props half the time. It wasn’t even as though Grissom was ordinarily a meek, mild individual to form the proper Jekyll and Hyde transformation; he didn’t straighten himself to gain extra height, or smirk, or begin taking aggressive postures. But something happened, something that changed Gil Grissom from the day to day supervisor into someone who barely needed to flicker a gaze onto his intended target before the air seemed to crackle with electricity. Warrick smiled to himself ruefully. Some people had it, some people didn’t. And some people had it forced upon them, and sometimes they even enjoyed it.
Still, it was quite a leap from air of authority and taking a blow job in front of an audience at the breakfast table. Gil had managed to transmit the smallest of agreements through his gaze and the slightest rise of his head, and Greg had gleefully jumped to the task. Warrick just hoped the boy wasn’t going to mess it up; not, of course, that the group would judge him badly, because there was an unspoken truth that the glue that held the group together was loyalty. No, for something like that, it was the individual who was their own worst enemy and most fiercesome critic, and Warrick had listened to a good three hours worth of fear and excitement over the subject of Grissom to know that Greg was almost treating it like a job interview.
At least Greg was making a good start. His hands were slow and confident as they reached for him, deftly removing the fastenings between him and Griss to allow his hand to slowly, carefully slip his hand into Gil’s pants with all the caution of one who wasn’t quite sure whether a rattlesnake lurked at the end of the tunnel. As it turned out, the rattlesnake was feeling particularly forgiving at the moment, and hell, it wasn’t exactly a small specimen. Greg sat back on his heels and looked at the large, already semi-erect penis in utter wonder for a moment, before leaning forward and slowly, lazily, running his tongue around the head.
Suddenly Warrick didn’t care less where they were doing these things, or when for that matter. He felt a burning flush slowly creep through him, arousal mixing with nervous energy as the scene unfurled in front of him; the gentle, visual licks that Greg was offering, half to Grissom, half to his audience. The way that Griss’ hand clenched in Greg’s hair, not enough to hurt him but more than enough to encourage him on, to appreciate what was happening without the need for words. He couldn’t see the expression on Greg’s face, but Warrick could see in his mind’s eye the furrow in the young man’s brow as though he was trying to work out some complicated sum and the sparkle in his eyes as he lapped up every little moment gleefully. He didn’t need any leap of imagination when it came to Griss, of course. The pleased, half-dazed look in his soft grey-blue eyes was there right in front of him, a look that suggested that Gil had forgotten that the rest of the world existed outside of him and Greg.
And yeah, it was hot. Fucking hot. Ridiculously hot. And fucking hard to watch whilst trying to remain still, for that matter.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one who had this viewpoint. Warrick flinched automatically as a gentle hand touched his shoulder, and then looked back into Nick’s apologetic yet clearly eager eyes that had already lost the hint of caution the man had shown during their meeting. Warrick offered him a slow, seductive smile back before returning to watch the little show in front of them, feeling Nick press himself to Warrick’s side like a limpet to a rock. And hell, Nick’s body was hot. It was like being hugged by a man formed entirely of lava, and fuck, that felt damned good.
Granted, probably not as good as Griss was feeling right about now. Greg had moved on from flickering his tongue over the head of Griss’ cock to gently sucking on it, and Warrick knew how that felt, those gentle, barely there sensations that simply seemed to stack up, layer by layer, until the intensity was god near unbearable. He heard Nick’s little indrawn breath next to him as Greg gathered his courage and slid his mouth further over Griss’ length, one hand rising to stroke the older man’s length in time with his mouth, and it was all that Warrick could do not to grab hold of the solid, impatient heat next to him and fuck him senseless. But then what was right for Warrick wasn’t exactly right for Nick, regardless of the man’s opinion on things, and he doubted whether their master or owner or whatever the hell Gil was planning to call himself was going to be that pleased either.
Of course that didn’t mean he couldn’t scout out the territory. Warrick’s hand gently slid over Nick’s flat stomach and across the firm muscles in his back, running his fingertips over Nick’s spine and following it down to his faintly trembling ass. One finger rested just above the other man’s crack, and Nick shuddered against him, his attention dragged back from the scene in front of him and onto Warrick’s movements. Warrick smirked. God, he loved that control, the way that Nick was simply poised, willing and waiting for him to choose what to do.
Unfortunately, Griss knew them both a little too well.
“Warrick,” the sharp voice sounded from in front of them, snapping their attention back. Warrick could almost feel Nick’s temperature rise as the man flushed, and smiled ruefully as he met Gil’s gaze head on. Oh yeah, now that was another look he recognised. No touching unless permission had been granted.
Thankfully, Grissom’s displeasure hadn’t discouraged Greg. He had happily found a comfortable rhythm as he eagerly worked, his spine slightly arched in the way that Warrick liked. It was only a shame the man was still wearing his shorts; without those, they would have had a fine view of his ass, and there was nothing to shore up confidence than a scenic view. Warrick’s hand began to move a little lower down on Nick’s ass, small, gentle movements that allowed his nails to rake a little circle on his friend’s buttock without a flicker crossing his own face.
“Persistent, aren’t you?” came a dry, amused voice, and the grey-blue eyes were back on him and twinkling in amusement.
“Prefer to think of it as ‘enthusiastic’.” Warrick drawled back.
“Yes, well. Although you might be able to keep a straight face, bear in mind your partner might be having a harder time.” Gil gaze flickered onto Nick pointedly, and smiled in amusement. Grissom gently ran his hand through Greg’s hair again to catch his attention, his voice dropping into a sexy, smoothness that was pretty damned tender when Greg finally looked up. “C’mon. Up.”
Greg all but scrambled to his feet and was captured in a deeper kiss that almost knocked him back down again. It took the younger man a few seconds to react, and Warrick chuckled to himself at the cautious, ‘oh shit I’m touching a tiger’ hand stroke to Grissom’s waist, as though he was expecting to be fired over it. There was a soft, surprised groan as Gil’s hand slipped further to grip hold of Greg’s ass with an iron grip, and hell, if that wasn’t going to encourage Greg into a whirlwind of erotic lust then nothing was. Nothing sparked up the boy more than a bit of rough handling.
Other than spanking, of course. Griss finished the kiss, then turned the still dazed young man and walloped him hard on the ass to get him to move.
“Go make Nick comfortable.”
“Okay.” Greg stepped forward automatically, and then looked back uncertainly. “Uh. What does that mean, exactly, boss?”
Griss shrugged. “Surprise me.”
“Sensibly,” Warrick added, just in case face paint suddenly turned up on the list. Greg grinned a ‘would I?’ smile, his usual get up and go unbothered by his flustered state, and then prowled closer to Nick. Warrick felt Stokes’ ass cheek tense under his caresses as Nick was faced with the practical situation of the choice he had made, and then gave Nick a gentle slap of his own to wake him up. He heard Nick swallow, but he finally moved, straightening his shoulders as he watched Greg prowl closer with a particularly mischievous look sparkling in his eyes.
“Warrick,” the tone of authority commanded him again, and Warrick was surprised to find how easy it was to respond to it. Ordinarily any direct ‘move your ass’ order left him bristling and defiant, but with Griss there was a whole sub-clause of understanding behind it, not so much a demand but a suggestion with perks. Warrick pushed himself forward and strolled after him, pleased to note that Grissom was strolling towards the much more comfortable sofa.
“You can use the rug,” Grissom added over his shoulder at the other two. Warrick smirked at that. Kitchens might be wipe clean, but they weren’t designed for any level of passion, and the last thing they needed was Greg rolling over the bananas. Warrick stripped off his t-shirt and pants lazily before standing in front of Grissom, ready, waiting and feeling so hard that he could easily have an iron bar in his pants.
“You wanna get that finished?” he offered, giving a little nod to the still proud erection that Grissom was sporting. Gil opened his mouth to comment before a thoughtful look seemed to flicker in his eyes for a moment, indecisiveness coupled with temptation. Finally, with a reluctance that spoke more about Gil’s willpower than his desire, there was a little nod.
Chuckling to himself, Warrick slid to his knees easily and gently spread his supervisor’s legs. His fingertips raked along firm muscles in Gil’s inner thighs, resulting in a soft groan and a chiding hand in his hair, before Warrick chuckled again and slowly slid his mouth over the waiting, eager, hot tip of Grissom’s cock. His tongue licked against the pre-com that had pooled, enjoying the salty appetizer, before beginning to suckle on him with all the power that he knew Greg wouldn’t have dared try.
The hand in his hair tightened. Warrick’s tongue licked underneath the head, teasing the sensitive rim, before he slowly took the other man’s length as deep as he dared. From the indrawn gasp, that was definitely appreciated. Gil’s thigh trembled under his palm as Warrick began to move, allowing Gil’s length to essentially fuck his mouth as deep as he dared. It had been a while since he’d done something like this, even with Greg’s enthusiasm, and every so often he paused to rake his nails along Gil’s thigh as he recovered.
Griss, of course, wasn’t demanding. He never was, never needed to be, and that had been part of the reason that the whole damn situation might not be the total disaster that it could have been. Griss expected a certain level of commitment, sure, but he never took it all for granted; you did it because you wanted to please him, to follow the persuasion into whatever Griss had in mind today. Threats, demands, nah, all of those were simply going to crash into each man’s sense of defiance. And hell, there was something fundamentally wonderful about getting a guy like Gil Grissom to whimper in that soft, sweet, pleading voice that suggested he was about to explode.
Warrick’s hand slid from inner thigh to between the other man’s legs as he withdrew to suckle on the very tip of Griss’ cock, allowing his jaw a break and enjoying the smaller movements that were transmitted to him. God, he loved this power over him, the way he could make Gil tremble and shudder and make those slight thrusts of the hips in a desperate but commanding plea for Warrick to take pity on him. It was obvious that Gil was holding himself back with willpower so solid it could crush buildings, but fuck, every man had his breaking point.
Warrick’s hand caressed Gil’s balls through the material of the pants that he still wore, tugging and playing as best he could. It wasn’t either dignified or even graceful, his movements clumsy and restricted, but that slight amount of impatience seemed to do nothing but encourage them both further. Grissom’s hand tightened in his hair again, running his fingers through the soft strands, and Warrick took the opportunity to give him a wicked look upwards.
Oh yeah, flustered was good; that gentle colour that had risen to those cheeks, the distant look in Gil’s eyes like he was calculating something in his head, and the way that his lips had pursed in that manner that Gil had during the most complicated of cases. Warrick chuckled. Yeah, all of that shouldn’t have been so damned sexy and yet it sent a rush of blood down to his groin, where a lazy but persistent throbbing began to set up home for the foreseeable future. Not too painful, not yet; no, this was the first flush of arousal, the tickling, whispering sensation that seemed to urge his mind into images of depravity and make anything at all seem perfectly reasonable.
His eyes flashed as he studied the man in front of him. God, he wanted nothing so much as to slip his hand between Gil’s legs and insert one finger deep into his boss’ body. He could already imagine the way the hot channel would clamp down on his digit, and the indrawn breath that Gil would give as he struggled to keep his composure when it was clear he just wanted to give in.
The corner of Warrick’s mouth twitched upwards in amusement. Later, perhaps. When they were alone and able to confirm their own agreement. For now, they had to act in the manner befitting one man and his boy, and that wasn’t a bad thing in itself. Warrick glanced behind him, expecting to see Nick and Greg in the throes of whatever it was Greg had planned, and then frowned at the empty rug.
“Kitchen,” Gil murmured. “They never got out of it,”
He gave a gentle snort of amusement at that. Yeah, that was unsurprising. Impatience was bound to have some hand in the location, but Warrick was willing to bet that embarrassment wasn’t too far away either; what often seemed a great idea in theory was always tough when there was an audience, and this particular theory had required active, lubricated participation. Warrick looked up just in time to see Gil’s eyes twinkle, despite the man clearly desperate for any action whatsoever.
“Want to go watch?”
And now that was just a wickedly tempting thought. Warrick mulled it over as his tongue slowly circled over the hot, fat, velvety head and then down the hardened shaft. Finally he sat back on his heels, looking pointedly at the material that shielded Gil from a full worship of his lower body before looking up again.
“Prefer to get a bit deeper with us, y’know what I’m saying?” he rumbled, his voice so rough he almost didn’t recognise it himself. Of course he only earned himself another eye twinkle and a small, smug smile.
“Good things happen to those who wait, Warrick,”
“Better things happen to those who fuck the waiting and just get on with it,” Warrick grumbled, but hell, he knew this was coming. He might have Gil exposed, hot and so aroused he was almost whimpering, but Grissom had a knack of keeping control in even the most helpless of situations. Sometimes it was just better to accept who was boss and go with it.
Rolling his eyes slightly, Warrick offered him a rueful smile and pushed himself up, holding out his hand to Gil. Pulling him up resulted in a hot, lazy kiss, their tongues clashing and Warrick’s hand slipping cautiously around Gil’s waist as he deepened it, amused by Grissom’s apparent happiness to allow Warrick some dominance when it wasn’t easily spotted. God, the man could kiss. Griss pressed against him so tightly it was as though they were melded together, their erections grinding and their kiss deepening enough that for a moment Warrick completely forgot what they got up for.
A soft, pleading moan coming from behind him dragged him back into the present. Oh yeah. That.
A quick glance at the kitchen area told him that neither Nick or Greg would have noticed the dominance even if Warrick had bent Gil over and violated him with one of the carrots; Warrick’s grin widened, then gently pulled Gil with him as he stepped backwards a few paces to get a better view that was unobstructed by the counter.
They paused to properly watch the action for a few moments, which seemed the most appropriate thing to do under the circumstances.
“Does he look comfortable to you?” Gil queried mildly in Warrick’s ear, a thoughtful, almost supervisory ponder on whether to re-adjust the cushions, despite the fact that his aching erection pressed further against Warrick’s.
“Kinda,” Warrick allowed, and yeah, Nick kinda did look comfortable in what he was doing, mentally at least. Physically, possibly not. He had been pushed back against one of the worktops, nearly sitting on it, with Greg pressed hard against him. At some point both of them had rid themselves of their shorts, and Warrick was greeted with the sight of Greg’s naked, lean back as the younger man continued to suck and kiss at Nick’s neck. The older man was flushed, his eyes mostly closed and beads of sweat formed on his brow as he desperately tried to control himself. One of Nick’s hands clutched at the worktop, probably to keep his balance, whilst the other gripped Greg’s left buttock tight enough that Warrick could see the little white indents where his nails dug in. Greg was squirming happily, all but thrusting against Nick’s body in little movements as he kissed and licked and sucked.
Yeah, that was ‘comfortable’. Whether Nick would have said the same about the frustration clearly running through his body was another matter, the guy so distracted that Warrick doubted whether either man would have noticed a group of tourists entering, even if they had a tour guide with a particularly good working microphone.
Warrick slowly ground his hips against Gil’s as he watched, then gave a little grunt of surprise as a hand slapped him firmly on the buttock.
“Hey…!”
An eyebrow rose in question. Warrick caught himself, and then smiled ruefully. Oh yeah.
“Sorry,”
“Apology accepted. If you’re intent on doing anything please use your hand, you are not a dog and I am not a trouser leg.” Grissom’s eyebrow rose a little further and Warrick found himself with the peculiar need to flush in embarrassment. Okay, Nick had obviously got to him. His hand slid down between them, running his fingertips over Grissom’s hardened length and feeling the other man shudder in response, the softest indrawn breath displaying Gil’s need. The need was echoed from the kitchen, Nick giving a soft, desperate grunt as Greg suckled even harder on his neck, and his hand clutching tight enough for it to hurt. Not that Greg seemed to either notice or care, given the full abandonment he was giving to his current ‘case’; his back had the lightest sheen of sweat and his muscles tensed as Greg pressed so hard against Nick that Warrick suspected they would find a perfect imprint of a kitchen door against Nick’s ass and thighs once the pair had come down off their erotic bubble of lust.
His thoughts suffered a hitch as Warrick felt a hand that didn’t belong to him gently stroke over his pants that were struggling to contain Warrick’s burning erection, and then grip him tightly. He glanced down, then slowly looked up to meet Gil’s steady gaze. If that was Griss’ way of attracting attention then he was all for it.
“I’ll need you to help me, ‘Rick,” Grissom murmured, his voice set low enough not to disrupt the pair but his eyes so steady they could use it to align casino towers. Gil’s hand slowly released him to allow gentle fingers to brush against Warrick’s agonisingly hard length, their delicate tips tracing over him skilfully.
“Yeah?” Warrick grunted. “’Bout?”
Gil managed to get even closer to him, his chest pressed against Warrick hard enough that he could feel the bullet points of Grissom’s nipples and feel the other man’s heart beat pound against him. His own was racing in his chest, his body struggling to stay still and yet he forced himself to wait to Grissom’s schedule, knowing he had to be ‘obedient’ and yet berating himself for needing to. A shiver ran across Warrick’s shoulders and down his spine as Grissom gently nuzzled him, the hot breath on his neck and the gentle sounds of Gil’s breath in his ear fuelling the sheer heat that was pooling within him. Fuck, he was responding far too quickly, but there was nothing he could do to fight the invasion, each little breath that fluttered across his skin hitting him as hard as a mallet. Warrick growled softly as he fought the rising flush, the muscles in his legs trembling from the unfair weight gravity was forcing them to cope with.
“You’re my second in command,” Gil murmured. “I need both your submission and your dominance if this has any chance of working.”
Warrick chuckled throatily and breathlessly. They both knew that Gil had his full and total support, but it was always nice to hear the respect rather than assumption that he was going to play good little boy.
“Will I get perks?” he was only half joking with that one. Gil nuzzled him gently, the tip of his tongue licking the lobe of Warrick’s ear with the gentlest touch.
“And what type of perks did you have in mind?” he murmured.
“Possession once in a while.” Warrick’s hand captured Grissom’s cock and balls gently but firmly, hard enough to make the older man pause and meet his gaze. For a moment he didn’t think Gil would agree. Possession of the other two, sure, he had no doubt that Grissom would share, not least because both Greg and Nick seemed permanently on ‘horny’ and that was going to be exhausting. But possession of Grissom himself, yes, that wasn’t so clear cut, and he had almost given up hope when Gil’s smile widened slightly.
“Well,” there was a little pause as Gil carefully chose his next words, his eyes looking up at him in the surprisingly boyish, cheeky way that Grissom could do whenever he was feeling playful. “We’ll have to see what happens,”
“That a yes?”
“That’s a ‘you’ll have to work for it’.” Gil’s eyebrow arched in amusement. “And don’t expect anything publicly. An agreement between you and me, if anything happens at all. After all, you’d have to be extra good for that..,”
Warrick grinned wolfishly, his hand tightening over Gil’s arousal again and feeling the resulting shudder work its way through his boss’ body.
“Oh, I can be good.” his voice was rough, persuasive, but not quite as persuasive as the sound of Nick climaxing. They glanced to the side to watch as Nick’s head tipped back again, his mouth slightly open and his expression almost one of surprise as his ‘oh!’ noise of pleasure trailed off in a gasp, his lungs struggling for breath. Greg’s free hand was gripping hold of Nick’s waist tightly, his mouth still feasting on Nick’s neck as his other hand continued to stroke him through his shuddering orgasm. Of course Greg hadn’t quite thought things through, and almost found himself forced backwards as Nick nearly collapsed on him, panting, flushed, tousled, and looking faintly bewildered. Nick’s flush suddenly found a whole new level of impact as his eyes refocused and discovered that his little performance was being watched. An embarrassed smile was aimed at them, before Nick dipped his head and captured Greg’s mouth in a deep kiss that conveniently meant Nick didn’t have to look them in the eye.
Gil glanced at Warrick in amusement.
“We’ll have to build up to things,” he murmured. “But there’s no time like the present. Shall we?”
And as they prowled closer to the little flustered kitchen scene, Warrick wondered exactly how much Grissom had been planning this. He chuckled again. It just went to show that you should never trust the silent guy - they were always up to something.
TBC
*
Naturally, it had started with Greg, just after breakfast. Greg seemed to be good at sneaky plans. That wasn’t to say that everyone else was incapable of the deviousness associated with life, it was simply that everyone else tended to be a little more subtle, and there was little subtly in a young man walking confidently up to their boss and dropping to their knees in front of them. But then, Warrick considered as he watched the show in front of him, he guessed that this type of ‘meeting’ required a little bluntness to avoid everyone simply studying their own boots. It wasn’t enough to be aroused by the situation; there had to be intent there as well.
Warrick had no idea how long Grissom had been given to get used to the situation before Warrick had been stirred from his bed, but the man was reacting surprisingly well. His eyebrow had barely flickered upward as Greg looked up at him with all the brown eyed pleading of a collie dog after a doggie biscuit. Grissom had rested one hand on the younger man’s head, a prayer in the world’s most erotic church, and Warrick watched as their superior slipped from work authority to something else entirely.
What was it about him, Warrick wondered critically, what altered in Griss whenever he did that? He didn’t bother with costumes, or scenery, or even props half the time. It wasn’t even as though Grissom was ordinarily a meek, mild individual to form the proper Jekyll and Hyde transformation; he didn’t straighten himself to gain extra height, or smirk, or begin taking aggressive postures. But something happened, something that changed Gil Grissom from the day to day supervisor into someone who barely needed to flicker a gaze onto his intended target before the air seemed to crackle with electricity. Warrick smiled to himself ruefully. Some people had it, some people didn’t. And some people had it forced upon them, and sometimes they even enjoyed it.
Still, it was quite a leap from air of authority and taking a blow job in front of an audience at the breakfast table. Gil had managed to transmit the smallest of agreements through his gaze and the slightest rise of his head, and Greg had gleefully jumped to the task. Warrick just hoped the boy wasn’t going to mess it up; not, of course, that the group would judge him badly, because there was an unspoken truth that the glue that held the group together was loyalty. No, for something like that, it was the individual who was their own worst enemy and most fiercesome critic, and Warrick had listened to a good three hours worth of fear and excitement over the subject of Grissom to know that Greg was almost treating it like a job interview.
At least Greg was making a good start. His hands were slow and confident as they reached for him, deftly removing the fastenings between him and Griss to allow his hand to slowly, carefully slip his hand into Gil’s pants with all the caution of one who wasn’t quite sure whether a rattlesnake lurked at the end of the tunnel. As it turned out, the rattlesnake was feeling particularly forgiving at the moment, and hell, it wasn’t exactly a small specimen. Greg sat back on his heels and looked at the large, already semi-erect penis in utter wonder for a moment, before leaning forward and slowly, lazily, running his tongue around the head.
Suddenly Warrick didn’t care less where they were doing these things, or when for that matter. He felt a burning flush slowly creep through him, arousal mixing with nervous energy as the scene unfurled in front of him; the gentle, visual licks that Greg was offering, half to Grissom, half to his audience. The way that Griss’ hand clenched in Greg’s hair, not enough to hurt him but more than enough to encourage him on, to appreciate what was happening without the need for words. He couldn’t see the expression on Greg’s face, but Warrick could see in his mind’s eye the furrow in the young man’s brow as though he was trying to work out some complicated sum and the sparkle in his eyes as he lapped up every little moment gleefully. He didn’t need any leap of imagination when it came to Griss, of course. The pleased, half-dazed look in his soft grey-blue eyes was there right in front of him, a look that suggested that Gil had forgotten that the rest of the world existed outside of him and Greg.
And yeah, it was hot. Fucking hot. Ridiculously hot. And fucking hard to watch whilst trying to remain still, for that matter.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one who had this viewpoint. Warrick flinched automatically as a gentle hand touched his shoulder, and then looked back into Nick’s apologetic yet clearly eager eyes that had already lost the hint of caution the man had shown during their meeting. Warrick offered him a slow, seductive smile back before returning to watch the little show in front of them, feeling Nick press himself to Warrick’s side like a limpet to a rock. And hell, Nick’s body was hot. It was like being hugged by a man formed entirely of lava, and fuck, that felt damned good.
Granted, probably not as good as Griss was feeling right about now. Greg had moved on from flickering his tongue over the head of Griss’ cock to gently sucking on it, and Warrick knew how that felt, those gentle, barely there sensations that simply seemed to stack up, layer by layer, until the intensity was god near unbearable. He heard Nick’s little indrawn breath next to him as Greg gathered his courage and slid his mouth further over Griss’ length, one hand rising to stroke the older man’s length in time with his mouth, and it was all that Warrick could do not to grab hold of the solid, impatient heat next to him and fuck him senseless. But then what was right for Warrick wasn’t exactly right for Nick, regardless of the man’s opinion on things, and he doubted whether their master or owner or whatever the hell Gil was planning to call himself was going to be that pleased either.
Of course that didn’t mean he couldn’t scout out the territory. Warrick’s hand gently slid over Nick’s flat stomach and across the firm muscles in his back, running his fingertips over Nick’s spine and following it down to his faintly trembling ass. One finger rested just above the other man’s crack, and Nick shuddered against him, his attention dragged back from the scene in front of him and onto Warrick’s movements. Warrick smirked. God, he loved that control, the way that Nick was simply poised, willing and waiting for him to choose what to do.
Unfortunately, Griss knew them both a little too well.
“Warrick,” the sharp voice sounded from in front of them, snapping their attention back. Warrick could almost feel Nick’s temperature rise as the man flushed, and smiled ruefully as he met Gil’s gaze head on. Oh yeah, now that was another look he recognised. No touching unless permission had been granted.
Thankfully, Grissom’s displeasure hadn’t discouraged Greg. He had happily found a comfortable rhythm as he eagerly worked, his spine slightly arched in the way that Warrick liked. It was only a shame the man was still wearing his shorts; without those, they would have had a fine view of his ass, and there was nothing to shore up confidence than a scenic view. Warrick’s hand began to move a little lower down on Nick’s ass, small, gentle movements that allowed his nails to rake a little circle on his friend’s buttock without a flicker crossing his own face.
“Persistent, aren’t you?” came a dry, amused voice, and the grey-blue eyes were back on him and twinkling in amusement.
“Prefer to think of it as ‘enthusiastic’.” Warrick drawled back.
“Yes, well. Although you might be able to keep a straight face, bear in mind your partner might be having a harder time.” Gil gaze flickered onto Nick pointedly, and smiled in amusement. Grissom gently ran his hand through Greg’s hair again to catch his attention, his voice dropping into a sexy, smoothness that was pretty damned tender when Greg finally looked up. “C’mon. Up.”
Greg all but scrambled to his feet and was captured in a deeper kiss that almost knocked him back down again. It took the younger man a few seconds to react, and Warrick chuckled to himself at the cautious, ‘oh shit I’m touching a tiger’ hand stroke to Grissom’s waist, as though he was expecting to be fired over it. There was a soft, surprised groan as Gil’s hand slipped further to grip hold of Greg’s ass with an iron grip, and hell, if that wasn’t going to encourage Greg into a whirlwind of erotic lust then nothing was. Nothing sparked up the boy more than a bit of rough handling.
Other than spanking, of course. Griss finished the kiss, then turned the still dazed young man and walloped him hard on the ass to get him to move.
“Go make Nick comfortable.”
“Okay.” Greg stepped forward automatically, and then looked back uncertainly. “Uh. What does that mean, exactly, boss?”
Griss shrugged. “Surprise me.”
“Sensibly,” Warrick added, just in case face paint suddenly turned up on the list. Greg grinned a ‘would I?’ smile, his usual get up and go unbothered by his flustered state, and then prowled closer to Nick. Warrick felt Stokes’ ass cheek tense under his caresses as Nick was faced with the practical situation of the choice he had made, and then gave Nick a gentle slap of his own to wake him up. He heard Nick swallow, but he finally moved, straightening his shoulders as he watched Greg prowl closer with a particularly mischievous look sparkling in his eyes.
“Warrick,” the tone of authority commanded him again, and Warrick was surprised to find how easy it was to respond to it. Ordinarily any direct ‘move your ass’ order left him bristling and defiant, but with Griss there was a whole sub-clause of understanding behind it, not so much a demand but a suggestion with perks. Warrick pushed himself forward and strolled after him, pleased to note that Grissom was strolling towards the much more comfortable sofa.
“You can use the rug,” Grissom added over his shoulder at the other two. Warrick smirked at that. Kitchens might be wipe clean, but they weren’t designed for any level of passion, and the last thing they needed was Greg rolling over the bananas. Warrick stripped off his t-shirt and pants lazily before standing in front of Grissom, ready, waiting and feeling so hard that he could easily have an iron bar in his pants.
“You wanna get that finished?” he offered, giving a little nod to the still proud erection that Grissom was sporting. Gil opened his mouth to comment before a thoughtful look seemed to flicker in his eyes for a moment, indecisiveness coupled with temptation. Finally, with a reluctance that spoke more about Gil’s willpower than his desire, there was a little nod.
Chuckling to himself, Warrick slid to his knees easily and gently spread his supervisor’s legs. His fingertips raked along firm muscles in Gil’s inner thighs, resulting in a soft groan and a chiding hand in his hair, before Warrick chuckled again and slowly slid his mouth over the waiting, eager, hot tip of Grissom’s cock. His tongue licked against the pre-com that had pooled, enjoying the salty appetizer, before beginning to suckle on him with all the power that he knew Greg wouldn’t have dared try.
The hand in his hair tightened. Warrick’s tongue licked underneath the head, teasing the sensitive rim, before he slowly took the other man’s length as deep as he dared. From the indrawn gasp, that was definitely appreciated. Gil’s thigh trembled under his palm as Warrick began to move, allowing Gil’s length to essentially fuck his mouth as deep as he dared. It had been a while since he’d done something like this, even with Greg’s enthusiasm, and every so often he paused to rake his nails along Gil’s thigh as he recovered.
Griss, of course, wasn’t demanding. He never was, never needed to be, and that had been part of the reason that the whole damn situation might not be the total disaster that it could have been. Griss expected a certain level of commitment, sure, but he never took it all for granted; you did it because you wanted to please him, to follow the persuasion into whatever Griss had in mind today. Threats, demands, nah, all of those were simply going to crash into each man’s sense of defiance. And hell, there was something fundamentally wonderful about getting a guy like Gil Grissom to whimper in that soft, sweet, pleading voice that suggested he was about to explode.
Warrick’s hand slid from inner thigh to between the other man’s legs as he withdrew to suckle on the very tip of Griss’ cock, allowing his jaw a break and enjoying the smaller movements that were transmitted to him. God, he loved this power over him, the way he could make Gil tremble and shudder and make those slight thrusts of the hips in a desperate but commanding plea for Warrick to take pity on him. It was obvious that Gil was holding himself back with willpower so solid it could crush buildings, but fuck, every man had his breaking point.
Warrick’s hand caressed Gil’s balls through the material of the pants that he still wore, tugging and playing as best he could. It wasn’t either dignified or even graceful, his movements clumsy and restricted, but that slight amount of impatience seemed to do nothing but encourage them both further. Grissom’s hand tightened in his hair again, running his fingers through the soft strands, and Warrick took the opportunity to give him a wicked look upwards.
Oh yeah, flustered was good; that gentle colour that had risen to those cheeks, the distant look in Gil’s eyes like he was calculating something in his head, and the way that his lips had pursed in that manner that Gil had during the most complicated of cases. Warrick chuckled. Yeah, all of that shouldn’t have been so damned sexy and yet it sent a rush of blood down to his groin, where a lazy but persistent throbbing began to set up home for the foreseeable future. Not too painful, not yet; no, this was the first flush of arousal, the tickling, whispering sensation that seemed to urge his mind into images of depravity and make anything at all seem perfectly reasonable.
His eyes flashed as he studied the man in front of him. God, he wanted nothing so much as to slip his hand between Gil’s legs and insert one finger deep into his boss’ body. He could already imagine the way the hot channel would clamp down on his digit, and the indrawn breath that Gil would give as he struggled to keep his composure when it was clear he just wanted to give in.
The corner of Warrick’s mouth twitched upwards in amusement. Later, perhaps. When they were alone and able to confirm their own agreement. For now, they had to act in the manner befitting one man and his boy, and that wasn’t a bad thing in itself. Warrick glanced behind him, expecting to see Nick and Greg in the throes of whatever it was Greg had planned, and then frowned at the empty rug.
“Kitchen,” Gil murmured. “They never got out of it,”
He gave a gentle snort of amusement at that. Yeah, that was unsurprising. Impatience was bound to have some hand in the location, but Warrick was willing to bet that embarrassment wasn’t too far away either; what often seemed a great idea in theory was always tough when there was an audience, and this particular theory had required active, lubricated participation. Warrick looked up just in time to see Gil’s eyes twinkle, despite the man clearly desperate for any action whatsoever.
“Want to go watch?”
And now that was just a wickedly tempting thought. Warrick mulled it over as his tongue slowly circled over the hot, fat, velvety head and then down the hardened shaft. Finally he sat back on his heels, looking pointedly at the material that shielded Gil from a full worship of his lower body before looking up again.
“Prefer to get a bit deeper with us, y’know what I’m saying?” he rumbled, his voice so rough he almost didn’t recognise it himself. Of course he only earned himself another eye twinkle and a small, smug smile.
“Good things happen to those who wait, Warrick,”
“Better things happen to those who fuck the waiting and just get on with it,” Warrick grumbled, but hell, he knew this was coming. He might have Gil exposed, hot and so aroused he was almost whimpering, but Grissom had a knack of keeping control in even the most helpless of situations. Sometimes it was just better to accept who was boss and go with it.
Rolling his eyes slightly, Warrick offered him a rueful smile and pushed himself up, holding out his hand to Gil. Pulling him up resulted in a hot, lazy kiss, their tongues clashing and Warrick’s hand slipping cautiously around Gil’s waist as he deepened it, amused by Grissom’s apparent happiness to allow Warrick some dominance when it wasn’t easily spotted. God, the man could kiss. Griss pressed against him so tightly it was as though they were melded together, their erections grinding and their kiss deepening enough that for a moment Warrick completely forgot what they got up for.
A soft, pleading moan coming from behind him dragged him back into the present. Oh yeah. That.
A quick glance at the kitchen area told him that neither Nick or Greg would have noticed the dominance even if Warrick had bent Gil over and violated him with one of the carrots; Warrick’s grin widened, then gently pulled Gil with him as he stepped backwards a few paces to get a better view that was unobstructed by the counter.
They paused to properly watch the action for a few moments, which seemed the most appropriate thing to do under the circumstances.
“Does he look comfortable to you?” Gil queried mildly in Warrick’s ear, a thoughtful, almost supervisory ponder on whether to re-adjust the cushions, despite the fact that his aching erection pressed further against Warrick’s.
“Kinda,” Warrick allowed, and yeah, Nick kinda did look comfortable in what he was doing, mentally at least. Physically, possibly not. He had been pushed back against one of the worktops, nearly sitting on it, with Greg pressed hard against him. At some point both of them had rid themselves of their shorts, and Warrick was greeted with the sight of Greg’s naked, lean back as the younger man continued to suck and kiss at Nick’s neck. The older man was flushed, his eyes mostly closed and beads of sweat formed on his brow as he desperately tried to control himself. One of Nick’s hands clutched at the worktop, probably to keep his balance, whilst the other gripped Greg’s left buttock tight enough that Warrick could see the little white indents where his nails dug in. Greg was squirming happily, all but thrusting against Nick’s body in little movements as he kissed and licked and sucked.
Yeah, that was ‘comfortable’. Whether Nick would have said the same about the frustration clearly running through his body was another matter, the guy so distracted that Warrick doubted whether either man would have noticed a group of tourists entering, even if they had a tour guide with a particularly good working microphone.
Warrick slowly ground his hips against Gil’s as he watched, then gave a little grunt of surprise as a hand slapped him firmly on the buttock.
“Hey…!”
An eyebrow rose in question. Warrick caught himself, and then smiled ruefully. Oh yeah.
“Sorry,”
“Apology accepted. If you’re intent on doing anything please use your hand, you are not a dog and I am not a trouser leg.” Grissom’s eyebrow rose a little further and Warrick found himself with the peculiar need to flush in embarrassment. Okay, Nick had obviously got to him. His hand slid down between them, running his fingertips over Grissom’s hardened length and feeling the other man shudder in response, the softest indrawn breath displaying Gil’s need. The need was echoed from the kitchen, Nick giving a soft, desperate grunt as Greg suckled even harder on his neck, and his hand clutching tight enough for it to hurt. Not that Greg seemed to either notice or care, given the full abandonment he was giving to his current ‘case’; his back had the lightest sheen of sweat and his muscles tensed as Greg pressed so hard against Nick that Warrick suspected they would find a perfect imprint of a kitchen door against Nick’s ass and thighs once the pair had come down off their erotic bubble of lust.
His thoughts suffered a hitch as Warrick felt a hand that didn’t belong to him gently stroke over his pants that were struggling to contain Warrick’s burning erection, and then grip him tightly. He glanced down, then slowly looked up to meet Gil’s steady gaze. If that was Griss’ way of attracting attention then he was all for it.
“I’ll need you to help me, ‘Rick,” Grissom murmured, his voice set low enough not to disrupt the pair but his eyes so steady they could use it to align casino towers. Gil’s hand slowly released him to allow gentle fingers to brush against Warrick’s agonisingly hard length, their delicate tips tracing over him skilfully.
“Yeah?” Warrick grunted. “’Bout?”
Gil managed to get even closer to him, his chest pressed against Warrick hard enough that he could feel the bullet points of Grissom’s nipples and feel the other man’s heart beat pound against him. His own was racing in his chest, his body struggling to stay still and yet he forced himself to wait to Grissom’s schedule, knowing he had to be ‘obedient’ and yet berating himself for needing to. A shiver ran across Warrick’s shoulders and down his spine as Grissom gently nuzzled him, the hot breath on his neck and the gentle sounds of Gil’s breath in his ear fuelling the sheer heat that was pooling within him. Fuck, he was responding far too quickly, but there was nothing he could do to fight the invasion, each little breath that fluttered across his skin hitting him as hard as a mallet. Warrick growled softly as he fought the rising flush, the muscles in his legs trembling from the unfair weight gravity was forcing them to cope with.
“You’re my second in command,” Gil murmured. “I need both your submission and your dominance if this has any chance of working.”
Warrick chuckled throatily and breathlessly. They both knew that Gil had his full and total support, but it was always nice to hear the respect rather than assumption that he was going to play good little boy.
“Will I get perks?” he was only half joking with that one. Gil nuzzled him gently, the tip of his tongue licking the lobe of Warrick’s ear with the gentlest touch.
“And what type of perks did you have in mind?” he murmured.
“Possession once in a while.” Warrick’s hand captured Grissom’s cock and balls gently but firmly, hard enough to make the older man pause and meet his gaze. For a moment he didn’t think Gil would agree. Possession of the other two, sure, he had no doubt that Grissom would share, not least because both Greg and Nick seemed permanently on ‘horny’ and that was going to be exhausting. But possession of Grissom himself, yes, that wasn’t so clear cut, and he had almost given up hope when Gil’s smile widened slightly.
“Well,” there was a little pause as Gil carefully chose his next words, his eyes looking up at him in the surprisingly boyish, cheeky way that Grissom could do whenever he was feeling playful. “We’ll have to see what happens,”
“That a yes?”
“That’s a ‘you’ll have to work for it’.” Gil’s eyebrow arched in amusement. “And don’t expect anything publicly. An agreement between you and me, if anything happens at all. After all, you’d have to be extra good for that..,”
Warrick grinned wolfishly, his hand tightening over Gil’s arousal again and feeling the resulting shudder work its way through his boss’ body.
“Oh, I can be good.” his voice was rough, persuasive, but not quite as persuasive as the sound of Nick climaxing. They glanced to the side to watch as Nick’s head tipped back again, his mouth slightly open and his expression almost one of surprise as his ‘oh!’ noise of pleasure trailed off in a gasp, his lungs struggling for breath. Greg’s free hand was gripping hold of Nick’s waist tightly, his mouth still feasting on Nick’s neck as his other hand continued to stroke him through his shuddering orgasm. Of course Greg hadn’t quite thought things through, and almost found himself forced backwards as Nick nearly collapsed on him, panting, flushed, tousled, and looking faintly bewildered. Nick’s flush suddenly found a whole new level of impact as his eyes refocused and discovered that his little performance was being watched. An embarrassed smile was aimed at them, before Nick dipped his head and captured Greg’s mouth in a deep kiss that conveniently meant Nick didn’t have to look them in the eye.
Gil glanced at Warrick in amusement.
“We’ll have to build up to things,” he murmured. “But there’s no time like the present. Shall we?”
And as they prowled closer to the little flustered kitchen scene, Warrick wondered exactly how much Grissom had been planning this. He chuckled again. It just went to show that you should never trust the silent guy - they were always up to something.
TBC