FIC: To Whom It May Concern (CSI Slash NC17) 12/? (part A)
FIC: To Whom It May Concern (12/?)
Rating: NC17
Setting: CSI Vegas
Summary: When a tip off suggests that there may be murderous films being produced and distributed in Vegas, the male members of the CSI team try an undercover stunt to recover more evidence. However, their tenuous foray into the BDSM scene leads to unexpected and occasionally unwelcome discoveries within the group itself.
Please check tags for past chapters
Author's Note: Sorry for length of time between posts, had birthday and so on in between which made writing a bit tricky! Due to length of post, it's had to be split into two parts again
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He didn’t know how he got here. Well, mentally, anyway. Nick knew perfectly well how he literally got to that exact spot, his hands gripping hold of a chair back, his body naked, flushed, covered in sweat and with a mixture of both his own and Greg’s semen smeared over his stomach, groin and inner thighs. He had been captured soon after Greg had climaxed, a gentle but pointed hand resting on his shoulder as he recovered, panting, watching the aftershocks of climax race through Greg in painfully aroused fascination as he waited for his own body to recover. The hand, belonging to Grissom, had gently guided him off his little perch and slowly toward a set up that Warrick had arranged in the centre of the room; one dining chair sat to the right hand side at the head of the thick, red rug that had been a startling addition to the living room, and he had been silently directed into the position they wanted him in.
Nick lowered his head, still feeling his heartbeat loud in his chest as he gripped the back of the chair tighter and tried not to consider what was happening behind him. His back was to the rug, his body at an angle that suggested he was about to be strip searched, and his legs had been gently widened by the softest of touches to his inner thighs. It should have been either humiliating or utterly erotic, and instead seemed to flutter between the two points indecisively. Each time one seemed to gain the upper hand, the other turned up to tap it on the shoulder, and it was slowly driving him insane.
Nick took a deeper breath and tried to fight the tremble that was working its way through his body. He could do this without embarrassing himself, which seemed a ridiculous thing to say when he was naked and posed in what his father would have called ‘a dishonourable’ way, vulnerable and available for the rest of the room. But fuck, he wished that Grissom had allowed him to watch what the others were doing. At this current moment he felt a little ashamed, as though he had managed to do something naughty and had been put in the corner to think it over - whatever ‘It’ was - and he hated that this was possibly the point. The fact of the matter was that Nick had a habit of blushing. He always had and probably always would, the guilty flush that always gave him away, and Nick’s personal hatred for it didn’t dampen its normally positive reaction on others. Normally the ‘awww’ one. Even possessing a gun didn’t alter it, which was just fucking annoying.
Either way, this was his current position, and Nick wasn’t sure how to take the fact that it seemed ridiculously easy to fall into his role. Touching Greg intimately seemed familiar to him, as though he had done it half a million times before, and the safety in that had made his usual painful vulnerability that much easier to bear. He wasn’t too sure on being watched though, not yet, even if it was by Warrick and Grissom who had both taken on a particularly predatory look. Perhaps that was the expression that lobsters saw when they were chosen for the pot in a restaurant.
Nick smiled shakily to himself. Okay, probably not the best metaphor he could have chosen. At least the colour was likely to match.
He groaned softly and tightened his grip on the wooden rail in front of him. He hadn’t been told to do anything, technically, but Griss’ hand had gently rested on Nick’s head to hold him looking straight forward, and the ‘suggestion’ not to look back was pretty damn clear even without vocalisation.
God, it wasn’t fair! He could hear the others and see them every so often whenever one of them moved into Nick’s limited field of vision, out of the corner of his eye. The soft, gentle sounds of a deep kiss sounded near him, and he didn’t know who it was or even what part of the body they were kissing, but it sounded both obscene and utterly arousing at the same time. Someone groaned, deep and breathlessly, and Nick struggled to even identify that. Warrick? Possibly. But Warrick tended to turn his groans into a soft growl, as though he was afraid of saying anything that might suggest he was vulnerable. Greg could manage it, but normally he preferred soft, light gasps for air in a manner that suggest he was half a step away from giggling or sobbing. And Griss…
Well, he had no idea what noise Griss made under normal circumstances. He wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Griss didn’t make any noise at all, a pitiful requirement for others who didn’t have such powerful willpower or damned evil needs. Hell, the man probably only raised an eyebrow at the point of orgasm, and that-
“Fuck!!” Nick almost leaped out of his skin as someone brushed their hand against his nervous, trembling and utterly distracted-with-internal-rant body, then gripped the rail harder as he gasped through the shock. Whoever it was paused, most likely out of sheer surprise.
“Uh, he’s been a bit jumpy since we got here,” Greg offered from further behind them. Nick gritted his teeth. Oh no, he was not being made into some sort of nervous idiot here.
“You woke me up in the middle of the night, didn’t bother to put on the lights and just stood there, looming over me in the dark!” he spat back over his shoulder.
“You think I can loom? Cool!” Greg sounded incredibly happy about his new found ability to intimidate.
“Boys..,” Gil’s voice spoke up mildly, a mild reproof and unintentional confirmation of the man who was standing directly behind him. Nick tensed, and then forced the breath through his teeth as Grissom’s hand thoughtfully travelled down his back.
“Jumpy or not, you’re extremely tense,” the hand trailed lightly over Nick’s lower back and over his ass, so damned gentle and yet it felt as powerful as though the man had slapped him hard with it. Every single nerve strained to feel where Grissom was, what he was doing, and desperately trying to anticipate Gil’s every want.
“Sorry,” Nick apologised automatically, trying to relax and failing badly. His heartbeat had already stepped up the pace, a drum roll of excitement and anxiety in one compact package, and if his breathing didn’t start deepening he was probably going to faint. There was a little pointed noise that suggested people had been more than a little forgetful. Nick sighed. Oh yeah.
“Sorry sir,” he amended. The noise turned satisfied, before Grissom began to trail his hand over the line of Nick’s back again. Nick bit back a hiss, then tightened his grip as the finger continued its little erratic pattern over his skin in a light form of torture; sure it wasn’t doing anything yet but who knew where it could end up? And then this was Grissom, his fingertips capable of offering lightning bolts at the slightest of brushes. Each stroke blazed through Nick’s nerves, a fireball of sensation that settled deep in his core and throbbed harder than it had any right to throb.
And of course that wasn’t even the end to Griss’ sneakiness. Nick was suddenly aware of movement to his side and automatically glanced to see it, yelping as the finger turned into a flat handed slap to his rear. Okay, it barely stung, but the surprise was everything; at this stage, he wasn’t sure that someone shouting ‘boo’ wouldn’t give him a heart attack.
“Head forward. Not asking you again,” Gil murmured behind him. Nick gritted his teeth and glared toward, leaning forward slightly and deliberately giving Grissom a better view. Hell, two could play the torture game, even if Nick had to do it in a sweetly submissive way to avoid annoying the master. There was a little chuckle in response, and Gil’s finger slowly slid down the crack between Nick’s buttocks, immediately causing Nick to jerk forward in shock. His head, however, remained forward as requested, grimly sticking to orders as his heart raced faster.
That proved even harder as soon as he worked out what the other two were involved with. The kissing noises hadn’t stopped, and it wasn’t exactly difficult to work out what was happening as Warrick moved into view. Their embrace was deep and demanding, Greg clinging to the other man like a monkey to its mother as their bodies wrapped around each other so tightly that it was as though they had been purposefully crafted to fit. Their skin tones complimented each other perfectly, each highlighting the other’s difference and delighting in it; as it turned out, it also made it damned easy to watch their little porn show. Greg arched his back and groaned helplessly as Warrick ran his nails down his back in a clear show of possession, Warrick’s tongue lazily working over Greg’s shoulder. Nick tried desperately to keep his head where it was, but his eyes kept getting dragged back to the side as Warrick finally detached himself and pushed Greg downwards. The youngster was bent double as he spread his legs to stop falling over and gripped his ankles, open, wide, and visible to anyone who was able to look.
And fuck, Nick really, really wanted to look. He bit back the longing whimper and gripped harder, Nick’s knuckles turning white under the strain as Warrick moved into view and rubbed his hands together in a way that confirmed that something slippery had been added to them. Greg was at a perfect angle for Nick to see to the very core of him and allow Warrick to play without actually getting in his way. Nick’s whimper grew a little louder as one of Warrick’s long, slim fingers lazily ran down between Greg’s cheeks and began to circle around the tight, dusky pucker teasingly. Warrick’s other hand rested on Greg’s left buttock, pulling him even wider in a beautifully wicked show of dominance. Breathtaking, in fact. Distracting-
Nick yelped again as Gil’s hand struck him harder, the pain minor in comparison to the surprise of the blow.
“Head forward, eyes forward.” The instruction was smooth, calm and wearing Grissom’s trademark slightly disappointed tone. Nick gritted his teeth and tried to obey, but fuck, that was agonisingly difficult to do as soon as Warrick’s finger slowly pressed into Greg’s body and slowly began to slip deeper, centimetre by blessed centimetre. And of course that wasn’t the end of what that little finger had in mind, oh no, and the throb between Nick’s legs grew even more insistent at Greg’s whimpered plea as Warrick’s finger began to fuck him. Slowly at first, oh so very slowly, Greg’s tight muscles clinging to the tanned digit desperately as it began to slide in and out of him, over and over and picking up speed as the tight ring began to surrender. Nick bit his lip and tried to focus on the wall ahead, but fuck, this wasn’t fair, none of it was; Greg had already got himself fucked half a million times already, and all Nick seemed to be getting was another bruised ass.
The desire throbbed harder within him at that thought, the feel of Grissom’s hand on his hot, overheated skin, and fought down that realisation with a helpless growl. His voice suddenly hitched as Gil slapped him harder, clearly happy to take Nick’s arousal and tease it.
“And behaviour is always expected to be correct at all times, Nicky,” Gil said reproachfully. “That means no growling,”
“Aww, c’mon man..,” the retort was out of his mouth before he realised it, and despite Nick slamming the brakes on as soon as possible he knew the damage had been done. He winced, and lowered his head in defeat. Fuck. Definitely, definitely not fair. Why was he the only person being picked on?
He trembled as Gil moved closer to him, the warmth of the other man’s chest pressed against his back as Grissom’s hand slipped between Nick’s thighs to fondle his balls. Nick whimpered again, unable to stop himself, and hating himself for needing to press desperately against Gil’s hand. He was so goddamn hard again but there was absolutely no prospect of finding any help here; Grissom simply squeezed him, tight for a burst of agonisingly hot pleasure before simply keeping his hand still.
“Keep yourself quiet and still,” Gil’s breath was hot and tempting in his ear, the words a murmured promise and tempting threat. “Otherwise you’ll be hard for a very long time to come. Clear?”
Nick let his breath out shakily, and gave a little nod of understanding. Grissom’s hand tightened over his balls for a second and then released to a happier pressure, Nick slowly regaining his ability to breath. Of course Greg had to spoil this by his sudden need to be vocal; Nick’s eyes darted automatically to the side just in time to see Warrick’s three fingers slide deeper into Greg’s asshole, the tight ring gripping them so tightly that it was a wonder that Warrick could move.
“D’you want that, Nicky?” Gil was still draped over his back, so damned close and yet not close enough. Nick squirmed against him, shame flooding his face automatically at the thought. Yeah, he did, god help him. It looked both horrifying and fascinating, and as Gil’s hand tightened over his balls to cause another pleasure-pain stab to run longingly through his lower body, Nick could just imagine the way that Grissom would bend him over further, his hands pulling his ass cheeks apart as he positioned his iron hard cock against him and then..
Nick swallowed through a rapidly narrowing throat and closed his eyes for a moment. Yeah, then things got a little new and exciting, but hell, it wasn’t as though Griss didn’t know what he was doing. Probably. It wasn’t as though he’d actually ever really discussed that bit, but Griss was a wild card and everyone knew that wild cards had ridiculously vast sexual knowledge for no apparent reason. Or perhaps they could exaggerate it better than everyone else.
“Is that a no?” Gil’s voice was thoughtfully light.
“No. I mean, no.. I want it,” Nick didn’t even recognise his own voice as it grated out through a strained throat. “Please. Sir.”
“Hmmmm,” Grissom’s hand squeezed him again. “Well. Perhaps. When you’re ready,”
Ready? Jesus. He was so damned ready he was almost prepared to throw Grissom onto the couch and do unspeakably hot things to him. Nick growled again in desperate frustration, and then yelped as Gil’s hand squeezed him hard.
“No growling.” Grissom reminded him pleasantly. Nick squirmed, his body begging for some type of release. Hell, he’d go for anything right about now.
“But- ,” the hand tightened harder. “OW!”
“Or talking.”
“..fuck..,” Nick whined in the manner of a five year old told he couldn’t go out to play, then yelped again as Grissom’s hand gripped him mercilessly for a second time. And then, shockingly, the weight and heat was gone, leaving him alone, panting, frustrated and slightly bewildered. He licked his lips and swallowed, not quite daring to look around but not quite ready to obey absolutely everything. Nick glanced across at Greg and Warrick, eyes pleading but mouth finally shut, and tried not to come almost immediately as Warrick moved into view; okay, apparently they had moved on from fingers, and fuck, he hadn’t quite registered exactly how large Warrick was. The man lazily ran his hand over his stiff erection, coating it with some type of lubricant and giving himself more than a little pleasure at the same time before his fingers ran down the length to grip the core at the dark curls nestled at the bottom.
Nick licked his lips and watched, wide eyed, as Warrick casually positioned himself behind Greg. Once again, the angle was perfect to watch the way the sleek head pressed against Greg’s body before slowly, firmly, breaching the tight hole in such a way that it seemed that the tense channel would swallow him whole. There was a whimper from the younger man, who gripped hold of his ankles even tighter as Warrick slowly moved deeper and deeper until Nick could see Warrick’s clenched ass muscles and the sheen on his dark skin as the light danced over his curves -
“OW!” This time the pain across his ass cheeks was not just shock. Nick’s head snapped forward, his breath turning into light, desperate pants for air as the pain began to disperse through his ass and upper thighs in a seeming need to vanish towards his feet. There was a little pause, and then another slapping pain added itself to the throbbing impact of the first. And then a strange, near spiky feeling dragged itself over his skin, causing the pain and tingling to combine forces in an attempt to send Nick mad.
“And who said hairbrushes were just for the head?” came Gil’s voice from the rear. “Forgetting everything I told you already, Nicky?”
It definitely wasn’t fair. His lower body felt like someone had lit it on fire, the agony of his arousal hitting the pain of the hairbrush head on to the extent that he couldn’t even identify each one anymore. Nick chewed on his lip and desperately tried to forget what was happening to the side of him, but hell, how could anyone forget the sight of Warrick’s ass tighten as he slowly thrust into Greg’s straining body, the way that the dark fingers gripped hold of his young lover’s hips to steady him as the heavy cock slowly slid in and out, over and over again until Nick felt near hypnotised. And then there was the feral, prowling threat of Grissom behind him, able to strike at any moment, able to take him whenever he felt, and Nick whimpered softly at that thought. Gil chuckled behind him, the smooth back of the hairbrush running up and down Nick’s inner thighs that had just widened further in unspoken invitation.
“Still think you’re ready?”
And oh no, he wasn’t falling for that one a second time. Nick gave the smallest of nods and impatiently widened his legs again, feeling the muscles in his inner thigh stretch to cope. Grissom’s hand replaced the feel of the hairbrush, sliding over Nick’s ass gently and thoughtfully then once again between his legs to fondle him lazily. Nick made a little noise of pleasure in the back of his throat, his eyes closing as he focused on the inquisitive hand that was both right and so deliciously wrong, just like everything here had elements of both. His sense of modesty and respectability could vanish, just like that, as his supervisor - his boss, the guy who he would follow as much as loyalty would take him - held him prisoner by words and suggestions to allow Nick’s panting, bewildered body to be stroked and manhandled and-
-his bedroom was dark, but not quite dark enough. Her breath was soft, her hands reaching for him as he tried to understand what she wanted, what he was supposed to do, and feeling terrified in the process.
“It’s okay, Nicky. You’ll like this. It feels good. Here, let me show you-“
The hand paused, trying to work out what was happening.
“You’ve tensed again,” Grissom murmured softly, and the tone had already stated that Gil had noted the difference between nervous excitement and just .. well… nerves. Nick swore at himself and fiercely tried to recover. No. God, why now? The ‘incident’ from his childhood was not going to interfere here. It was too long ago and it was not going to cause a problem and-
“Nicky?” his name was said softly, no longer by the teasing authority figure of before but a concerned friend. Nick remained silent, his teeth gritted as he willed his body to relax. Gil paused for a moment before putting his hand on Nick’s shoulder to gently move him out of his position, turning him reluctantly around. He half thought about fighting it, not wanting to see anyone’s eyes in his intense need to escape, but that wasn’t something he could do anymore. Nick finally raised his own angry, dark, guilty gaze to meet Gil’s briefly, and was unsurprised to see himself being surveyed by soft, curious, concerned light eyes with all the intensity of Gil spotting a new bug. One of Gil’s fingers rose to run tenderly down the iron hard rigidity of Nick’s jaw, intimate and yet safe at the same time.
“Come sit down with me,” Gil said softly. “Please?”
“I’m fine,” Nick replied through gritted teeth.
“You are many things, Nicholas Stokes, but ‘fine’ doesn’t appear to be one of them,” Gil’s hand returned to Nick’s shoulder and gently but firmly began to guide him to the sofa. “We don’t have to do this now-,”
Nick shrugged off Gil’s hand on his shoulder furiously, anger at himself flashing in his eyes.
“Yes we do,” he hissed back, but the lower volume didn’t stop the emotion behind the words and he was suddenly, painfully conscious that Warrick had stopped and Greg was slowly standing up, flushed, panting and yet looking at him worriedly. In fact they were all still giving him that same anxious look that suggested Nick was five years old and just given a penknife. Nick scowled at them, then glared back at Grissom, and opened his mouth to say something, anything, and only finding an agonising emptiness instead.
Fuck.
He ran his hand through his hair and turned, abandoning his chair and making his retreat back to the safety of the kitchen. He wasn’t fleeing, god no, he was just withdrawing, because at the point you admitted you were avoiding something then you admitted you were running away, and sometimes you just had to let reality get on with it. What was wrong with ignoring things anyway? Not everyone had to analyse everything.
Nick’s heartbeat began to calm as he felt the safe, protecting comfort of his back pressed against the hard surface of the cabinets, his arms folded across his chest. It took him only a few moments before he was chiding himself for being ridiculous, although there was no damned way he was leaving the kitchen.
Not that this saved him, as Gil followed him a few minutes later, the older man calmly taking one of the stools and setting it down the other side of the kitchen to sit on as he waited for .. something. The silence was heavy, full of question, and hell, it was hard to ignore. Nick glanced across at Grissom’s tender expression then growled louder and averted his scowling gaze to the floor once more.
“Sorry,” Okay, it wasn’t quite said in an apologetic manner yet, but that didn’t mean he didn’t mean it. Some emotions just got primary treatment. And yet the silence continued, curious, politely waiting for Nick to surrender. That caused yet another sigh before Nick glanced across at Gil again, feeling the irritation slowly slip away in the face of such gentle concern. He shrugged helplessly before making a little gesture toward the rug and the others, not wanting to be a pain.
“You gonna go help them?”
Grissom’s shake of the head was barely more than a small movement to one side and then back again, his hands primly resting on his thigh as he waited and watched and utterly made Nick paranoid. Okay, so Warrick and Greg really didn’t need helping, but it was the thought that counted and Nick could easily see Gil getting Greg’s mouth whilst Warrick plundered the younger man’s ass and-
He felt another flush flutter to his cheeks, and had to look back down at the floor. Yeah, nothing wrong with his own desire. Just ..
.. just…
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand helplessly, and then let it drop again.
“I just need five minutes,” he said into the silence. A dubious eyebrow flickered upwards, apparently querying whether this was a good idea and why he was being sent away. Nick gritted his teeth again, and shook his head.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just .. look, it’s nothing, okay?”
The eyebrow twitched further upwards, daring to disagree. Eyebrows were bastards to argue against. Nick’s arms folded harder against his chest, his guilt refusing to blast off at Gil - a completely innocent bystander - and yet his stubbornness refusing to allow him to actually talk. Finally Gil got up from his chair and walked idly toward the kettle, switching it on.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“No. Thanks.” The guilt was beginning to win. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was taking undeserved blame on the chin and then offering refreshments afterwards. Nick slowly began to uncurl, one hand moving to the back of his own neck to rub it ruefully. “Look, man, just carry on and I’ll join in later, okay? There’s no need for you to get caught up in all of this,”
“All of this being..?” Gil queried idly as he got out two mugs.
“Stuff,”
“Stuff being defined as ..?” the coffee was added, Grissom’s voice not moving from the mild one he always used. Nick growled and shook his head. Guilt only went so far.
“I don’t want to talk about it,”
“Okay,” Gil replied, moving towards the fridge. “Do you take milk?”
“You know I don’t,” Nick frowned at him.
“True. However, it’s one of those questions that’s inoffensive to say while I give you a chance to get your mind straightened out. I’d also recommend you considering whether it might be a good idea to inform your sexual partner of anything that might result in the reaction you had out there. Just a thought, of course.” Gil opened the fridge, picked out some type of food and then withdrew to the mugs of coffee as the kettle slowly clicked off. “Which was, of course, part of the conditions we drew up a short time ago.”
Nick found his stubbornness returning. “It’s nothing,”
“I disagree.” Grissom replied. “The evidence suggests it’s definitely something significant. And normally I would allow you to simply work it out by yourself, but you have a nasty tendency to put things away into the back of your mind and leave it there as though you have a serviceable Lost Property box for undesired thoughts. So..?”
“So nothing,” Nick raised his head in determination. “You don’t want to do this with me, fine. The whole thing was a crazy idea, anyway,”
Gil looked at him silently for a moment, and then sighed softly in that Grissom way that stated he was disappointed in someone. “It’s that serious, huh?”
Nick’s fist almost crashed onto the top of the kitchen table in frustration. “No, it’s fucking not!”
A deathly silence followed that snarled outburst, stating quite firmly that anything that brought that type of tone probably wasn’t just concerned over which television channel they wanted to watch. Nick shook his head again, and ran his hand through his hair in confusion, shaken by his own violence.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said apologetically.
“I know.” Gil agreed. “Which is why I’m even more concerned.”
They considered each other a little longer. Nick felt his heart race in his chest, only it wasn’t the good racing heartbeat but one of discomfort and upset, and it took all his strength simply to stay still. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, especially not here and especially not now and…
… and then Gil smiled gently at him, completely disarming him.
“Go on. We’ll discuss this later. Go help Warrick.” he said mildly, too mildly, and Nick found his confusion growing as he tried to understand exactly how Gil was going to attack further. He glanced at the living room in case that held the answer, then back at Grissom warily. It couldn’t be that easy.
“Go,” Gil repeated softly. “We don’t need to tackle everything today. Just have some fun and relax.”
Nick’s eyes flickered up to him carefully, weighing the words. On the surface, that was exactly what he wanted to hear, a get out of jail free card that allowed him to escape from the conversation and forget it had ever happened. But then he couldn’t do that, not properly. It wasn’t as though they were returning to an oblivious room, both Warrick and Greg having heard the little argument over their own sexual activities, and if an argument could distract someone when their cock was buried in Greg then clearly it was an argument of some distinction.
Yeah, they would know, and they would probably look at him in the same way that Gil was doing. Soft. Caring. Concerned more for him than what they were doing, and it was both touching and strangely frustrating at the same time. He didn’t want anyone to treat him like that, as though he was temperamental enough that he needed cotton wool treatment, and yet here he was in the damned kitchen proving that the cotton wool was more than necessary.
Nick rubbed the back of his neck a little harder. This sort of thing seemed to follow him around far too much; watch out for Nick, he’s ‘emotional’, when all he had done was simply admitted what he felt. And at this point in time he was feeling both fucked off and incredibly embarrassed.
Yeah, that wasn’t a good mix.
He shifted uncomfortably against the counter, his arms returning to fold harder against his chest as though it might in some way offer him a little protection. He could already feel his heartbeat increase against his ribs, thudding so hard that he was impressed the neighbours couldn’t hear it. Nick gave another cautious glance to the room, and then sighed again, the irritation slowly and grudgingly slipping away. He had friends, and this was what friends did. For all his arguments, for all his fighting, he was fortunate indeed. There were more than enough bodies in Vegas who had no one to fight for them.
One awkward look back at Gil found Grissom’s soft, slightly sappy smile he had whenever he was feeling affectionate, a gentle smile that Nick couldn’t help but smile back at. Yeah. Perhaps he could just suck it up and accept their concern in the manner in which it was intended.
“They won’t judge. There’s nothing to judge.” Gil murmured.
His breath slowly eased from his chest, Nick scanning Gil’s eyes for anything and only finding honesty aimed back at him. He tightened his arms for a moment, then nodded slowly, finding himself easing as Gil stepped forward to gently touch him on the arm. He glanced down at it, and then had to fight himself from chuckling. It was absurd. Standing naked and aroused in the kitchen was absurd at the best of times anyway, but here, now, with Gil treating him as though he was a bomb about to explode, Nick had a sudden need to laugh.
“Okay,” he recovered himself, looking down at the floor for a moment before raising his head again and giving him a slightly sheepish smile. Nick found his jaw captured in a soft, warm touch, Gil gently stroking down his skin as he moved a little closer. Nick’s tongue licked over his bottom lip, swallowing through a narrowing throat as Gil drew even closer.
“If I go help out Warrick and Greg, what are you going to be doing?” he whispered softly, as though they were well behind enemy lines. “Sir?”
The finger stroked down his jaw again, before Gil gave a little hum of amusement and then allowed his hand to draw Nick into the lightest of kisses that seemed to burn a path down his body to his groin.
“Don’t worry quite so much on me and worry about yourself,” he whispered back, and his breath mingled with Nick’s as Gil’s hand moved down Nick’s neck to his chest and downward. Nick found himself arching into the gentle touch, his tongue licking his bottom lip as he found himself torn on whether to be a ‘good boy’ or whether to simply hurl caution to the wind and plant a hot, messy, passionate kiss against Gil’s mouth hard enough to fluster even Grissom.
In the end, tradition and good manners died hard, or as hard as they could die when he was bare-cheeked and covered in semen. Nick allowed himself to be gently propelled forward, glancing back at Gil for a moment, before slowly walking back to the little session that was still occurring in the middle of the room. Greg opened his eyes and gave him a delighted grin before groaning and writhing against Warrick as the taller man stroked him. Warrick’s green eyes surveyed Nick thoughtfully over Greg’s shoulder before he gave a nod in greeting as though they were simply meeting up over a trace analysis.
“You get the rear,” he said lazily. “I’ll do the front. Here,”
Nick caught the tossed item automatically, and then glanced at it in surprise. Lubrication. He glanced back, startled.
“You want me to…?” he wasn’t entirely sure how he did it, but he managed to get Warrick to understand the end part of the sentence was ‘prep Greg’ despite the silence and despite the fact that he was pretty damned sure that Greg was prepped pretty well considering he had already taken Warrick’s considerable length once that day. A slow, lazy, hungry smile aimed itself back at him.
“Oh, yeah, bro.” Warrick confirmed lazily. “Get him good and wet for me.”
There was no response from Greg, and Nick doubted that the man was even aware of Nick’s existence any more as Warrick’s hand continued to stroke, the young lab-rat clinging to his lover for support. Soft whimpers followed even the smallest of hand movements, Greg squirming against the teasing torment in the eager, undemanding way of a puppy grateful for any type of affectionate aimed at it. Snapping himself out of his little daze, Nick’s eyes rose to meet Warrick’s amused gaze over Greg’s slim shoulder and then winked at him.
Challenge accepted, as weird and as twisted as it was. And hell, this was what they were supposed to be doing, right? Getting down to the bare bones of the matter. The action. The .. well, sex. Now all he had to do was work out how and he was happy. And it wasn’t as though it was gonna be that hard, surely? All he had to do was just slick up his fingers, press himself to Greg’s hot, desperate, writhing body with its sheen of sweat, and slowly slide his hand over the other man’s lean back and down over his backside… Nick felt the heat under his fingertips as he followed his set schedule, and slowly felt his confidence build as he let himself forget the argument of the kitchen. So far, so good, and yet the touch of his fingertips over the rise of Greg’s ass felt a secret confession somehow, Nick almost expecting Greg to twist and snap at him as he realised exactly who was touching him.
Shouting never happened. Twisting, yes, but then Greg rarely remained still even at the best of times, and Nick was unsurprised when Greg shifted his weight backwards while leaning forward at the same time. The younger man was clearly torn between Warrick’s heat and Nick’s questing, cool fingers, and a little whimper of a plea was tossed out just in case this made any difference to either man’s touch.
Nick chuckled fondly and pressed a number of small kisses to Greg’s shoulder blade, delicate and affectionate, and allowed his fingers to trail cautiously between the other man’s cheeks. Greg, for his part, moaned a little louder and spread his legs wide enough that the man was threatening a groin strain. Nick smirked, and then focused on what his fingers were doing; carefully, slightly guiltily, he allowed one finger to slide across the tight pucker, feeling a nervous shiver of embarrassment and anticipation tickle down his own spine as he did so. Yeah, it still felt wrong, and the only way he could think of describing it involved him regressing back to a five year old; rude. But, hell, that guilty feeling of doing something they shouldn’t simply fuelled his own lust, making it pleasantly uncomfortable to stay in one position and delighting in every single moan that Greg made. And Greg made a lot of moans, positive noises of erotically charged encouragement as he pressed back harder. Suddenly Nick had to focus a little more on his balance to avoid them both ending up in a lubricated pile of limbs.
The moan was captured by a hot, heated kiss between Warrick and Greg, allowing Nick to fight back; his slicked thumb carefully pressed against the tight entrance, a flush of embarrassment creeping to Nick’s cheeks that was nothing but decorative. Putting your fingers up your colleague’s asshole was almost certainly in the no-go zone barring medical intervention, but again that guilty feeling simply made it all the better.
Greg and Warrick’s kiss was deepening, and Nick’s thumb decided to follow the general theme. He ran his tongue over Greg’s shoulder as his thumb slid further inside and then darted out teasingly, his thumb moving over and over again until he could feel Greg shiver and tremble against him. The kiss had broken off to allow Greg air to breathe, the younger man pressing his forehead against Warrick’s chest as he groaned and panted and moaned against Nick’s playful fingers.
“And there’s me thinking you’d be all prim and proper,” Warrick grinned at him over the top of Greg’s head.
“Yeah, right,” Nick met his grin with one of his own, and then chuckled as Greg moaned/complained over the speed. His thumb flickered in and out again, fucking him gently, before sliding it out entirely and replacing it with a cautious, longer finger.
There wasn’t even any hesitation. Greg moaned again, louder, and then forced himself back onto the finger hard enough impale himself on Nick’s somewhat shocked digit. Enthusiasm for a speedy penetration didn’t necessarily mean Greg’s body was ready, of course. Hot, tight and eager muscle held him still before Greg relaxed even further and suddenly Nick’s finger discovered freedom to move.
“Go straight for two,” Warrick advised roughly, his eyes sparkling. “He likes it big. Twist ‘em, make him squeal a bit.”
“I don’t squeal!” Greg panted.
“Liar,” Warrick pressed an affectionate kiss on the top of his head. Greg squirmed again, and then wriggled on Nick’s finger determinedly. Nick chuckled, and slid it out again, adding another finger to his first and watching in fascination as the tight hole slowly accepted the invasion. It was so damned easy to go from that cautious, slow slide to a faster pace, adjusting the speed and power as Greg responded to him. Nick bent his head and pressed a number of light kisses over Greg’s shoulder and neck as he worked, delighting in the little soft grunts and moans of pleasure that each tease extracted.
“’kay, ‘kay, ‘kay,” Greg groaned softly, then wrapped his hands around Warrick’s neck and pulled him forcibly into a breathless, hot kiss. “Get in me. Before I start getting sulky.”
Warrick chuckled roughly, then met Nick’s gaze again over Greg’s shoulder. He winked, and then patted Greg on the shoulder as Nick twisted his fingers once more and then reluctantly withdrew them.
“Turn round,” Warrick breathed into Greg’s ear. “And on your hands and knees.”
Greg nearly broke world speed records trying to do so, arching his back and looking like a dog at a breeder’s show. Another Warrick wink aimed itself at Nick, the larger man’s eyes flickering to indicate that Nick probably would do better doing the same. Swallowing, feeling the heat throb deep within him, Nick slowly settled down on the rug. And that, apparently, was going to be the only slow thing that occurred as Greg immediately leaned over him and took his cock deep in his mouth.
“Shit!” Nick’s back arched in shock, his voice dissolving into soft pants as Greg abandoned the puppy dog lick format to shove Nick’s cock to the very back of his throat. Chuckling and not making the situation any easier to sit through, Greg spread his legs further and stuck his ass as high in the air as he could. Warrick huffed a laugh, and then gave him a little whap on the ass.
“Subtle, man, real subtle.”
Not that this observation halted Greg’s activities at all. Nick dragged his gaze up from staring at the man currently swallowing his lap only to see the look in Warrick’s eyes turn from friendly feline to hungry predator. A look of intense concentration shone in the man’s eyes as Warrick lined himself up, his fingers gripping Greg’s hips tightly as he fought against Greg’s incessant need to wriggle. The preparation hadn’t altered Greg’s work either, the young man continuing to suckle fiercely even as Warrick’s eyes narrowed and his hips slowly began to move forward in determination. Nick took in the muscular lines of Warrick’s chest, the way the light shone off his slick skin as he moved, and felt the burning heat deep within him boil even more. Nick allowed his eyes to drape half closed in pleasure, his hand resting lightly on Greg’s shoulder as he purred his approval with each lick and suckle, but even the skill of Greg’s tongue couldn’t quite distract him away from the show in front of him.
He could tell when Warrick slid in. The cat’s eyes slit further, Warrick’s muscles tensing just as Greg’s ‘oh!’ ghosted across Nick’s cock, and hell, the sight of Warrick slowly sinking deeper into Greg was one that Nick was sure he’d be seeing in his memory for the rest of his life. Each movement that Warrick made was transmitted through Greg to Nick, each grunt, each shiver, and even just the sight of Warrick’s dark fingers curling roughly over Greg’s hips added to the maelstrom of agonising pleasure that was building steadily within him.
From that point it was hard to separate the individual sensations from each other, just as it was hard to tell whose groan belonged to whom. Nick’s soft, panting moans of pleasure were enhanced by the wet noises coming from Greg, the little grunts and whimpers that seemed to vibrate deep within him. Warrick’s breath was fast and hard, grunting in his intensity to drive as deep into Greg as he could, but every so often Nick could hear the soft, near vulnerable hitch in his voice and the purring gasp as Greg squeezed his muscles around him. Greg’s mouth had been forced to withdraw a little to avoid Warrick’s thrusts shoving him so far onto Nick’s throat that they were probably looking at an asphyxiation charge, and that was good, that was more than good; his breath tickled over him, his teeth occasionally raked him, and then that beautiful attention of Greg’s mouth over him, suckling him into completion, was something that Nick never wanted to lose.
“…god…” his own voice traitorously whispered out the word, a plea for mercy as his body was whipped up in a whirl of heat and lust and agony and touch. Greg suckled harder, his movements growing cruder as Warrick pounded into him but no less beautiful or honest for that. Nick groaned, his head tipping back as he struggled to remain upright; his fingers tightened on Greg’s shoulder, knowing they were probably hard enough to leave marks and not having any way to halt it.
It lasted for years or seconds, Nick didn’t know. What he did know was the way his body hitched, his breathing so ragged it took all his strength to rasp out each gasp as the tension gripped hold of every muscle he possessed. Straining, trembling, he tried to gasp out a warning and yet his throat seemed dedicated to fight against him; Nick felt another hard stab of heat deep within him and whimpered, fighting against his own body as it pulled towards the climax he so desperately needed.
He lost. Badly.
Greg thankfully was paying attention enough not to drown in the onslaught as Nick trembled, struck dumb as his body teetered on the edge before crashing into his violent orgasm that shuddered through every muscle that Nick possessed. Panting, gasping for air, he slowly refocused on Greg and his wickedly cheeky grin as the younger man looked at him proudly. The younger man lazily licked up the remains of Nick’s seed on his bottom lip with all the slow care of a seductress on the Strip, his eyes shining happily at Nick’s flushed, satisfied expression.
One hard thrust from Warrick dragged Greg’s attention back to who was ploughing his lower body, and it was clear that Warrick was planning a more ruthless attack now the blow job was over. The younger man’s eyes fluttered closed, his mouth opening in both a display of emotion and the ability to breathe easier as Warrick stepped up the power; Nick leaned back to avoid Greg actually crashing into him as the lab-rat was set a punishingly hard rhythm, over and over again, Warrick fucking him so hard and so fast that Nick felt the strong urge to wince.
Nick glanced up to meet Warrick’s gaze again, the green eyes sparkling despite the sweat on his brow and his muscles prominent as he strained to control himself, and raised his eyebrows in question on what the man wanted Nick to do next. And of course, Warrick had an answer to that one.
Warrick chuckled roughly and slid one arm around Greg’s chest, pulling him backward as he eased himself into a sitting position to cope. Greg whimpered, squirming on his lover’s lap as Warrick managed to find a new rhythm to thrust to. Nick’s eyebrows rose higher at the sheer strength that was needed to keep Greg where he wanted him, but that wasn’t destined to be the only thing he needed to focus on. Warrick’s strained eyes found Nick’s again, a little nod managing to communicate much more than Nick would have believed possible.
Oh yeah, he understood that particular nod. Nick’s grin suddenly found the ability to grow wolfish.
“’kay, bro,” he murmured in reply, crawling closer and finding the perfect location to press against them whilst giving himself room to work. Nick’s hand began to confidently stroke Greg’s swollen cock with strong, almost rough strokes, the type he knew he appreciated himself. Greg’s howls and whimpers for breath suddenly stepped up a notch, the desperate need illustrated throughout his posture as Greg squirmed and wriggled and pushed, whining for anything and everything they could give him.
Team work was surprisingly easy in this situation, and surprisingly quiet. Warrick was already on Nick’s wavelength as though the man had access to Nick’s inner thoughts, and in that exact moment Nick knew that Greg was utterly doomed. The larger man slowly moved Greg’s weight and then slammed upwards again, turning the moans into a sharper noise of shock and pleasure-pain as Warrick’s hard length clearly smashed against the sensitive spot hidden deep within Greg’s body. At the same time Nick worked him harder than before, giving the younger man as much as he could take and then adding a generous tip to it.
One full body tremble later and Greg was theirs, hook, line and sinker. His back arched against Warrick as the other man slammed in once more, Greg’s head resting against the plain of Warrick’s chest as he gasped aloud. A second later and he had climaxed, wetness landing over Nick’s bare chest and hand with each shudder of pleasure, Greg finally stunned into whimpering half-silence as his body betrayed him.
His revenge on Warrick was almost instantaneous. Buried up to his balls inside Greg as the man climaxed, Nick could see the struggle in Warrick’s expression as he desperately tried to ignore the hard, shuddering pleasure that gripped so tightly around him. This was also a battle he was destined to lose, although typically Warrick didn’t go quietly. Where Greg’s expression was all soft surprise and enthusiasms, Warrick’s seemed to be fighting a personal internal war; his expression was strained, his eyes half closed and his entire body focused on the sensations that were already rippling through him.
Nick leaned back and absent-mindedly wiped his fingers on his own already messy thigh as he watched them, fascinated. Spent, Warrick let out a soft groan and then pressed a loving kiss to the side of Greg’s neck, nuzzling him gently before slowly releasing him and letting Greg slowly flop forward. Nick caught him, laughing, and then ruffled the already messed up hair.
“You okay, Greggo?”
“Nghmmmghgh.” Greg squirmed closer to Nick, curling up to him as though Nick was a teddy bear and Greg was a very sleepy toddler.
“Means ‘yes’.” Warrick translated, his own voice strained and breathless. “Or occasionally ‘want ice-cream’. You want a hand to get him up to the couch?”
Nick looked down at the sleepy form of his friend, still snuggled as close as he could with the expression of one who was both utterly satisfied and utterly comfortable, then laughed again.
“Okay. Thanks.” he looked up only to find Warrick’s hand under his jaw, capturing him gently and pulling him into a tender kiss, so different to the power and strength that Warrick was displaying only a few minutes earlier. Nick stared at him, and then smiled shyly at the intense look that Warrick was giving him.
“Any time, Nicky,” Warrick murmured. “Trust me on that,”
And as Nick looked back into the kind, intense green eyes that gazed at him, there was no way he was going to question it.
*
To Part B
Rating: NC17
Setting: CSI Vegas
Summary: When a tip off suggests that there may be murderous films being produced and distributed in Vegas, the male members of the CSI team try an undercover stunt to recover more evidence. However, their tenuous foray into the BDSM scene leads to unexpected and occasionally unwelcome discoveries within the group itself.
Please check tags for past chapters
Author's Note: Sorry for length of time between posts, had birthday and so on in between which made writing a bit tricky! Due to length of post, it's had to be split into two parts again
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He didn’t know how he got here. Well, mentally, anyway. Nick knew perfectly well how he literally got to that exact spot, his hands gripping hold of a chair back, his body naked, flushed, covered in sweat and with a mixture of both his own and Greg’s semen smeared over his stomach, groin and inner thighs. He had been captured soon after Greg had climaxed, a gentle but pointed hand resting on his shoulder as he recovered, panting, watching the aftershocks of climax race through Greg in painfully aroused fascination as he waited for his own body to recover. The hand, belonging to Grissom, had gently guided him off his little perch and slowly toward a set up that Warrick had arranged in the centre of the room; one dining chair sat to the right hand side at the head of the thick, red rug that had been a startling addition to the living room, and he had been silently directed into the position they wanted him in.
Nick lowered his head, still feeling his heartbeat loud in his chest as he gripped the back of the chair tighter and tried not to consider what was happening behind him. His back was to the rug, his body at an angle that suggested he was about to be strip searched, and his legs had been gently widened by the softest of touches to his inner thighs. It should have been either humiliating or utterly erotic, and instead seemed to flutter between the two points indecisively. Each time one seemed to gain the upper hand, the other turned up to tap it on the shoulder, and it was slowly driving him insane.
Nick took a deeper breath and tried to fight the tremble that was working its way through his body. He could do this without embarrassing himself, which seemed a ridiculous thing to say when he was naked and posed in what his father would have called ‘a dishonourable’ way, vulnerable and available for the rest of the room. But fuck, he wished that Grissom had allowed him to watch what the others were doing. At this current moment he felt a little ashamed, as though he had managed to do something naughty and had been put in the corner to think it over - whatever ‘It’ was - and he hated that this was possibly the point. The fact of the matter was that Nick had a habit of blushing. He always had and probably always would, the guilty flush that always gave him away, and Nick’s personal hatred for it didn’t dampen its normally positive reaction on others. Normally the ‘awww’ one. Even possessing a gun didn’t alter it, which was just fucking annoying.
Either way, this was his current position, and Nick wasn’t sure how to take the fact that it seemed ridiculously easy to fall into his role. Touching Greg intimately seemed familiar to him, as though he had done it half a million times before, and the safety in that had made his usual painful vulnerability that much easier to bear. He wasn’t too sure on being watched though, not yet, even if it was by Warrick and Grissom who had both taken on a particularly predatory look. Perhaps that was the expression that lobsters saw when they were chosen for the pot in a restaurant.
Nick smiled shakily to himself. Okay, probably not the best metaphor he could have chosen. At least the colour was likely to match.
He groaned softly and tightened his grip on the wooden rail in front of him. He hadn’t been told to do anything, technically, but Griss’ hand had gently rested on Nick’s head to hold him looking straight forward, and the ‘suggestion’ not to look back was pretty damn clear even without vocalisation.
God, it wasn’t fair! He could hear the others and see them every so often whenever one of them moved into Nick’s limited field of vision, out of the corner of his eye. The soft, gentle sounds of a deep kiss sounded near him, and he didn’t know who it was or even what part of the body they were kissing, but it sounded both obscene and utterly arousing at the same time. Someone groaned, deep and breathlessly, and Nick struggled to even identify that. Warrick? Possibly. But Warrick tended to turn his groans into a soft growl, as though he was afraid of saying anything that might suggest he was vulnerable. Greg could manage it, but normally he preferred soft, light gasps for air in a manner that suggest he was half a step away from giggling or sobbing. And Griss…
Well, he had no idea what noise Griss made under normal circumstances. He wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Griss didn’t make any noise at all, a pitiful requirement for others who didn’t have such powerful willpower or damned evil needs. Hell, the man probably only raised an eyebrow at the point of orgasm, and that-
“Fuck!!” Nick almost leaped out of his skin as someone brushed their hand against his nervous, trembling and utterly distracted-with-internal-rant body, then gripped the rail harder as he gasped through the shock. Whoever it was paused, most likely out of sheer surprise.
“Uh, he’s been a bit jumpy since we got here,” Greg offered from further behind them. Nick gritted his teeth. Oh no, he was not being made into some sort of nervous idiot here.
“You woke me up in the middle of the night, didn’t bother to put on the lights and just stood there, looming over me in the dark!” he spat back over his shoulder.
“You think I can loom? Cool!” Greg sounded incredibly happy about his new found ability to intimidate.
“Boys..,” Gil’s voice spoke up mildly, a mild reproof and unintentional confirmation of the man who was standing directly behind him. Nick tensed, and then forced the breath through his teeth as Grissom’s hand thoughtfully travelled down his back.
“Jumpy or not, you’re extremely tense,” the hand trailed lightly over Nick’s lower back and over his ass, so damned gentle and yet it felt as powerful as though the man had slapped him hard with it. Every single nerve strained to feel where Grissom was, what he was doing, and desperately trying to anticipate Gil’s every want.
“Sorry,” Nick apologised automatically, trying to relax and failing badly. His heartbeat had already stepped up the pace, a drum roll of excitement and anxiety in one compact package, and if his breathing didn’t start deepening he was probably going to faint. There was a little pointed noise that suggested people had been more than a little forgetful. Nick sighed. Oh yeah.
“Sorry sir,” he amended. The noise turned satisfied, before Grissom began to trail his hand over the line of Nick’s back again. Nick bit back a hiss, then tightened his grip as the finger continued its little erratic pattern over his skin in a light form of torture; sure it wasn’t doing anything yet but who knew where it could end up? And then this was Grissom, his fingertips capable of offering lightning bolts at the slightest of brushes. Each stroke blazed through Nick’s nerves, a fireball of sensation that settled deep in his core and throbbed harder than it had any right to throb.
And of course that wasn’t even the end to Griss’ sneakiness. Nick was suddenly aware of movement to his side and automatically glanced to see it, yelping as the finger turned into a flat handed slap to his rear. Okay, it barely stung, but the surprise was everything; at this stage, he wasn’t sure that someone shouting ‘boo’ wouldn’t give him a heart attack.
“Head forward. Not asking you again,” Gil murmured behind him. Nick gritted his teeth and glared toward, leaning forward slightly and deliberately giving Grissom a better view. Hell, two could play the torture game, even if Nick had to do it in a sweetly submissive way to avoid annoying the master. There was a little chuckle in response, and Gil’s finger slowly slid down the crack between Nick’s buttocks, immediately causing Nick to jerk forward in shock. His head, however, remained forward as requested, grimly sticking to orders as his heart raced faster.
That proved even harder as soon as he worked out what the other two were involved with. The kissing noises hadn’t stopped, and it wasn’t exactly difficult to work out what was happening as Warrick moved into view. Their embrace was deep and demanding, Greg clinging to the other man like a monkey to its mother as their bodies wrapped around each other so tightly that it was as though they had been purposefully crafted to fit. Their skin tones complimented each other perfectly, each highlighting the other’s difference and delighting in it; as it turned out, it also made it damned easy to watch their little porn show. Greg arched his back and groaned helplessly as Warrick ran his nails down his back in a clear show of possession, Warrick’s tongue lazily working over Greg’s shoulder. Nick tried desperately to keep his head where it was, but his eyes kept getting dragged back to the side as Warrick finally detached himself and pushed Greg downwards. The youngster was bent double as he spread his legs to stop falling over and gripped his ankles, open, wide, and visible to anyone who was able to look.
And fuck, Nick really, really wanted to look. He bit back the longing whimper and gripped harder, Nick’s knuckles turning white under the strain as Warrick moved into view and rubbed his hands together in a way that confirmed that something slippery had been added to them. Greg was at a perfect angle for Nick to see to the very core of him and allow Warrick to play without actually getting in his way. Nick’s whimper grew a little louder as one of Warrick’s long, slim fingers lazily ran down between Greg’s cheeks and began to circle around the tight, dusky pucker teasingly. Warrick’s other hand rested on Greg’s left buttock, pulling him even wider in a beautifully wicked show of dominance. Breathtaking, in fact. Distracting-
Nick yelped again as Gil’s hand struck him harder, the pain minor in comparison to the surprise of the blow.
“Head forward, eyes forward.” The instruction was smooth, calm and wearing Grissom’s trademark slightly disappointed tone. Nick gritted his teeth and tried to obey, but fuck, that was agonisingly difficult to do as soon as Warrick’s finger slowly pressed into Greg’s body and slowly began to slip deeper, centimetre by blessed centimetre. And of course that wasn’t the end of what that little finger had in mind, oh no, and the throb between Nick’s legs grew even more insistent at Greg’s whimpered plea as Warrick’s finger began to fuck him. Slowly at first, oh so very slowly, Greg’s tight muscles clinging to the tanned digit desperately as it began to slide in and out of him, over and over and picking up speed as the tight ring began to surrender. Nick bit his lip and tried to focus on the wall ahead, but fuck, this wasn’t fair, none of it was; Greg had already got himself fucked half a million times already, and all Nick seemed to be getting was another bruised ass.
The desire throbbed harder within him at that thought, the feel of Grissom’s hand on his hot, overheated skin, and fought down that realisation with a helpless growl. His voice suddenly hitched as Gil slapped him harder, clearly happy to take Nick’s arousal and tease it.
“And behaviour is always expected to be correct at all times, Nicky,” Gil said reproachfully. “That means no growling,”
“Aww, c’mon man..,” the retort was out of his mouth before he realised it, and despite Nick slamming the brakes on as soon as possible he knew the damage had been done. He winced, and lowered his head in defeat. Fuck. Definitely, definitely not fair. Why was he the only person being picked on?
He trembled as Gil moved closer to him, the warmth of the other man’s chest pressed against his back as Grissom’s hand slipped between Nick’s thighs to fondle his balls. Nick whimpered again, unable to stop himself, and hating himself for needing to press desperately against Gil’s hand. He was so goddamn hard again but there was absolutely no prospect of finding any help here; Grissom simply squeezed him, tight for a burst of agonisingly hot pleasure before simply keeping his hand still.
“Keep yourself quiet and still,” Gil’s breath was hot and tempting in his ear, the words a murmured promise and tempting threat. “Otherwise you’ll be hard for a very long time to come. Clear?”
Nick let his breath out shakily, and gave a little nod of understanding. Grissom’s hand tightened over his balls for a second and then released to a happier pressure, Nick slowly regaining his ability to breath. Of course Greg had to spoil this by his sudden need to be vocal; Nick’s eyes darted automatically to the side just in time to see Warrick’s three fingers slide deeper into Greg’s asshole, the tight ring gripping them so tightly that it was a wonder that Warrick could move.
“D’you want that, Nicky?” Gil was still draped over his back, so damned close and yet not close enough. Nick squirmed against him, shame flooding his face automatically at the thought. Yeah, he did, god help him. It looked both horrifying and fascinating, and as Gil’s hand tightened over his balls to cause another pleasure-pain stab to run longingly through his lower body, Nick could just imagine the way that Grissom would bend him over further, his hands pulling his ass cheeks apart as he positioned his iron hard cock against him and then..
Nick swallowed through a rapidly narrowing throat and closed his eyes for a moment. Yeah, then things got a little new and exciting, but hell, it wasn’t as though Griss didn’t know what he was doing. Probably. It wasn’t as though he’d actually ever really discussed that bit, but Griss was a wild card and everyone knew that wild cards had ridiculously vast sexual knowledge for no apparent reason. Or perhaps they could exaggerate it better than everyone else.
“Is that a no?” Gil’s voice was thoughtfully light.
“No. I mean, no.. I want it,” Nick didn’t even recognise his own voice as it grated out through a strained throat. “Please. Sir.”
“Hmmmm,” Grissom’s hand squeezed him again. “Well. Perhaps. When you’re ready,”
Ready? Jesus. He was so damned ready he was almost prepared to throw Grissom onto the couch and do unspeakably hot things to him. Nick growled again in desperate frustration, and then yelped as Gil’s hand squeezed him hard.
“No growling.” Grissom reminded him pleasantly. Nick squirmed, his body begging for some type of release. Hell, he’d go for anything right about now.
“But- ,” the hand tightened harder. “OW!”
“Or talking.”
“..fuck..,” Nick whined in the manner of a five year old told he couldn’t go out to play, then yelped again as Grissom’s hand gripped him mercilessly for a second time. And then, shockingly, the weight and heat was gone, leaving him alone, panting, frustrated and slightly bewildered. He licked his lips and swallowed, not quite daring to look around but not quite ready to obey absolutely everything. Nick glanced across at Greg and Warrick, eyes pleading but mouth finally shut, and tried not to come almost immediately as Warrick moved into view; okay, apparently they had moved on from fingers, and fuck, he hadn’t quite registered exactly how large Warrick was. The man lazily ran his hand over his stiff erection, coating it with some type of lubricant and giving himself more than a little pleasure at the same time before his fingers ran down the length to grip the core at the dark curls nestled at the bottom.
Nick licked his lips and watched, wide eyed, as Warrick casually positioned himself behind Greg. Once again, the angle was perfect to watch the way the sleek head pressed against Greg’s body before slowly, firmly, breaching the tight hole in such a way that it seemed that the tense channel would swallow him whole. There was a whimper from the younger man, who gripped hold of his ankles even tighter as Warrick slowly moved deeper and deeper until Nick could see Warrick’s clenched ass muscles and the sheen on his dark skin as the light danced over his curves -
“OW!” This time the pain across his ass cheeks was not just shock. Nick’s head snapped forward, his breath turning into light, desperate pants for air as the pain began to disperse through his ass and upper thighs in a seeming need to vanish towards his feet. There was a little pause, and then another slapping pain added itself to the throbbing impact of the first. And then a strange, near spiky feeling dragged itself over his skin, causing the pain and tingling to combine forces in an attempt to send Nick mad.
“And who said hairbrushes were just for the head?” came Gil’s voice from the rear. “Forgetting everything I told you already, Nicky?”
It definitely wasn’t fair. His lower body felt like someone had lit it on fire, the agony of his arousal hitting the pain of the hairbrush head on to the extent that he couldn’t even identify each one anymore. Nick chewed on his lip and desperately tried to forget what was happening to the side of him, but hell, how could anyone forget the sight of Warrick’s ass tighten as he slowly thrust into Greg’s straining body, the way that the dark fingers gripped hold of his young lover’s hips to steady him as the heavy cock slowly slid in and out, over and over again until Nick felt near hypnotised. And then there was the feral, prowling threat of Grissom behind him, able to strike at any moment, able to take him whenever he felt, and Nick whimpered softly at that thought. Gil chuckled behind him, the smooth back of the hairbrush running up and down Nick’s inner thighs that had just widened further in unspoken invitation.
“Still think you’re ready?”
And oh no, he wasn’t falling for that one a second time. Nick gave the smallest of nods and impatiently widened his legs again, feeling the muscles in his inner thigh stretch to cope. Grissom’s hand replaced the feel of the hairbrush, sliding over Nick’s ass gently and thoughtfully then once again between his legs to fondle him lazily. Nick made a little noise of pleasure in the back of his throat, his eyes closing as he focused on the inquisitive hand that was both right and so deliciously wrong, just like everything here had elements of both. His sense of modesty and respectability could vanish, just like that, as his supervisor - his boss, the guy who he would follow as much as loyalty would take him - held him prisoner by words and suggestions to allow Nick’s panting, bewildered body to be stroked and manhandled and-
-his bedroom was dark, but not quite dark enough. Her breath was soft, her hands reaching for him as he tried to understand what she wanted, what he was supposed to do, and feeling terrified in the process.
“It’s okay, Nicky. You’ll like this. It feels good. Here, let me show you-“
The hand paused, trying to work out what was happening.
“You’ve tensed again,” Grissom murmured softly, and the tone had already stated that Gil had noted the difference between nervous excitement and just .. well… nerves. Nick swore at himself and fiercely tried to recover. No. God, why now? The ‘incident’ from his childhood was not going to interfere here. It was too long ago and it was not going to cause a problem and-
“Nicky?” his name was said softly, no longer by the teasing authority figure of before but a concerned friend. Nick remained silent, his teeth gritted as he willed his body to relax. Gil paused for a moment before putting his hand on Nick’s shoulder to gently move him out of his position, turning him reluctantly around. He half thought about fighting it, not wanting to see anyone’s eyes in his intense need to escape, but that wasn’t something he could do anymore. Nick finally raised his own angry, dark, guilty gaze to meet Gil’s briefly, and was unsurprised to see himself being surveyed by soft, curious, concerned light eyes with all the intensity of Gil spotting a new bug. One of Gil’s fingers rose to run tenderly down the iron hard rigidity of Nick’s jaw, intimate and yet safe at the same time.
“Come sit down with me,” Gil said softly. “Please?”
“I’m fine,” Nick replied through gritted teeth.
“You are many things, Nicholas Stokes, but ‘fine’ doesn’t appear to be one of them,” Gil’s hand returned to Nick’s shoulder and gently but firmly began to guide him to the sofa. “We don’t have to do this now-,”
Nick shrugged off Gil’s hand on his shoulder furiously, anger at himself flashing in his eyes.
“Yes we do,” he hissed back, but the lower volume didn’t stop the emotion behind the words and he was suddenly, painfully conscious that Warrick had stopped and Greg was slowly standing up, flushed, panting and yet looking at him worriedly. In fact they were all still giving him that same anxious look that suggested Nick was five years old and just given a penknife. Nick scowled at them, then glared back at Grissom, and opened his mouth to say something, anything, and only finding an agonising emptiness instead.
Fuck.
He ran his hand through his hair and turned, abandoning his chair and making his retreat back to the safety of the kitchen. He wasn’t fleeing, god no, he was just withdrawing, because at the point you admitted you were avoiding something then you admitted you were running away, and sometimes you just had to let reality get on with it. What was wrong with ignoring things anyway? Not everyone had to analyse everything.
Nick’s heartbeat began to calm as he felt the safe, protecting comfort of his back pressed against the hard surface of the cabinets, his arms folded across his chest. It took him only a few moments before he was chiding himself for being ridiculous, although there was no damned way he was leaving the kitchen.
Not that this saved him, as Gil followed him a few minutes later, the older man calmly taking one of the stools and setting it down the other side of the kitchen to sit on as he waited for .. something. The silence was heavy, full of question, and hell, it was hard to ignore. Nick glanced across at Grissom’s tender expression then growled louder and averted his scowling gaze to the floor once more.
“Sorry,” Okay, it wasn’t quite said in an apologetic manner yet, but that didn’t mean he didn’t mean it. Some emotions just got primary treatment. And yet the silence continued, curious, politely waiting for Nick to surrender. That caused yet another sigh before Nick glanced across at Gil again, feeling the irritation slowly slip away in the face of such gentle concern. He shrugged helplessly before making a little gesture toward the rug and the others, not wanting to be a pain.
“You gonna go help them?”
Grissom’s shake of the head was barely more than a small movement to one side and then back again, his hands primly resting on his thigh as he waited and watched and utterly made Nick paranoid. Okay, so Warrick and Greg really didn’t need helping, but it was the thought that counted and Nick could easily see Gil getting Greg’s mouth whilst Warrick plundered the younger man’s ass and-
He felt another flush flutter to his cheeks, and had to look back down at the floor. Yeah, nothing wrong with his own desire. Just ..
.. just…
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand helplessly, and then let it drop again.
“I just need five minutes,” he said into the silence. A dubious eyebrow flickered upwards, apparently querying whether this was a good idea and why he was being sent away. Nick gritted his teeth again, and shook his head.
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just .. look, it’s nothing, okay?”
The eyebrow twitched further upwards, daring to disagree. Eyebrows were bastards to argue against. Nick’s arms folded harder against his chest, his guilt refusing to blast off at Gil - a completely innocent bystander - and yet his stubbornness refusing to allow him to actually talk. Finally Gil got up from his chair and walked idly toward the kettle, switching it on.
“Coffee?” he offered.
“No. Thanks.” The guilt was beginning to win. It was hard to stay mad at someone who was taking undeserved blame on the chin and then offering refreshments afterwards. Nick slowly began to uncurl, one hand moving to the back of his own neck to rub it ruefully. “Look, man, just carry on and I’ll join in later, okay? There’s no need for you to get caught up in all of this,”
“All of this being..?” Gil queried idly as he got out two mugs.
“Stuff,”
“Stuff being defined as ..?” the coffee was added, Grissom’s voice not moving from the mild one he always used. Nick growled and shook his head. Guilt only went so far.
“I don’t want to talk about it,”
“Okay,” Gil replied, moving towards the fridge. “Do you take milk?”
“You know I don’t,” Nick frowned at him.
“True. However, it’s one of those questions that’s inoffensive to say while I give you a chance to get your mind straightened out. I’d also recommend you considering whether it might be a good idea to inform your sexual partner of anything that might result in the reaction you had out there. Just a thought, of course.” Gil opened the fridge, picked out some type of food and then withdrew to the mugs of coffee as the kettle slowly clicked off. “Which was, of course, part of the conditions we drew up a short time ago.”
Nick found his stubbornness returning. “It’s nothing,”
“I disagree.” Grissom replied. “The evidence suggests it’s definitely something significant. And normally I would allow you to simply work it out by yourself, but you have a nasty tendency to put things away into the back of your mind and leave it there as though you have a serviceable Lost Property box for undesired thoughts. So..?”
“So nothing,” Nick raised his head in determination. “You don’t want to do this with me, fine. The whole thing was a crazy idea, anyway,”
Gil looked at him silently for a moment, and then sighed softly in that Grissom way that stated he was disappointed in someone. “It’s that serious, huh?”
Nick’s fist almost crashed onto the top of the kitchen table in frustration. “No, it’s fucking not!”
A deathly silence followed that snarled outburst, stating quite firmly that anything that brought that type of tone probably wasn’t just concerned over which television channel they wanted to watch. Nick shook his head again, and ran his hand through his hair in confusion, shaken by his own violence.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” he said apologetically.
“I know.” Gil agreed. “Which is why I’m even more concerned.”
They considered each other a little longer. Nick felt his heart race in his chest, only it wasn’t the good racing heartbeat but one of discomfort and upset, and it took all his strength simply to stay still. This was not a conversation he wanted to have, especially not here and especially not now and…
… and then Gil smiled gently at him, completely disarming him.
“Go on. We’ll discuss this later. Go help Warrick.” he said mildly, too mildly, and Nick found his confusion growing as he tried to understand exactly how Gil was going to attack further. He glanced at the living room in case that held the answer, then back at Grissom warily. It couldn’t be that easy.
“Go,” Gil repeated softly. “We don’t need to tackle everything today. Just have some fun and relax.”
Nick’s eyes flickered up to him carefully, weighing the words. On the surface, that was exactly what he wanted to hear, a get out of jail free card that allowed him to escape from the conversation and forget it had ever happened. But then he couldn’t do that, not properly. It wasn’t as though they were returning to an oblivious room, both Warrick and Greg having heard the little argument over their own sexual activities, and if an argument could distract someone when their cock was buried in Greg then clearly it was an argument of some distinction.
Yeah, they would know, and they would probably look at him in the same way that Gil was doing. Soft. Caring. Concerned more for him than what they were doing, and it was both touching and strangely frustrating at the same time. He didn’t want anyone to treat him like that, as though he was temperamental enough that he needed cotton wool treatment, and yet here he was in the damned kitchen proving that the cotton wool was more than necessary.
Nick rubbed the back of his neck a little harder. This sort of thing seemed to follow him around far too much; watch out for Nick, he’s ‘emotional’, when all he had done was simply admitted what he felt. And at this point in time he was feeling both fucked off and incredibly embarrassed.
Yeah, that wasn’t a good mix.
He shifted uncomfortably against the counter, his arms returning to fold harder against his chest as though it might in some way offer him a little protection. He could already feel his heartbeat increase against his ribs, thudding so hard that he was impressed the neighbours couldn’t hear it. Nick gave another cautious glance to the room, and then sighed again, the irritation slowly and grudgingly slipping away. He had friends, and this was what friends did. For all his arguments, for all his fighting, he was fortunate indeed. There were more than enough bodies in Vegas who had no one to fight for them.
One awkward look back at Gil found Grissom’s soft, slightly sappy smile he had whenever he was feeling affectionate, a gentle smile that Nick couldn’t help but smile back at. Yeah. Perhaps he could just suck it up and accept their concern in the manner in which it was intended.
“They won’t judge. There’s nothing to judge.” Gil murmured.
His breath slowly eased from his chest, Nick scanning Gil’s eyes for anything and only finding honesty aimed back at him. He tightened his arms for a moment, then nodded slowly, finding himself easing as Gil stepped forward to gently touch him on the arm. He glanced down at it, and then had to fight himself from chuckling. It was absurd. Standing naked and aroused in the kitchen was absurd at the best of times anyway, but here, now, with Gil treating him as though he was a bomb about to explode, Nick had a sudden need to laugh.
“Okay,” he recovered himself, looking down at the floor for a moment before raising his head again and giving him a slightly sheepish smile. Nick found his jaw captured in a soft, warm touch, Gil gently stroking down his skin as he moved a little closer. Nick’s tongue licked over his bottom lip, swallowing through a narrowing throat as Gil drew even closer.
“If I go help out Warrick and Greg, what are you going to be doing?” he whispered softly, as though they were well behind enemy lines. “Sir?”
The finger stroked down his jaw again, before Gil gave a little hum of amusement and then allowed his hand to draw Nick into the lightest of kisses that seemed to burn a path down his body to his groin.
“Don’t worry quite so much on me and worry about yourself,” he whispered back, and his breath mingled with Nick’s as Gil’s hand moved down Nick’s neck to his chest and downward. Nick found himself arching into the gentle touch, his tongue licking his bottom lip as he found himself torn on whether to be a ‘good boy’ or whether to simply hurl caution to the wind and plant a hot, messy, passionate kiss against Gil’s mouth hard enough to fluster even Grissom.
In the end, tradition and good manners died hard, or as hard as they could die when he was bare-cheeked and covered in semen. Nick allowed himself to be gently propelled forward, glancing back at Gil for a moment, before slowly walking back to the little session that was still occurring in the middle of the room. Greg opened his eyes and gave him a delighted grin before groaning and writhing against Warrick as the taller man stroked him. Warrick’s green eyes surveyed Nick thoughtfully over Greg’s shoulder before he gave a nod in greeting as though they were simply meeting up over a trace analysis.
“You get the rear,” he said lazily. “I’ll do the front. Here,”
Nick caught the tossed item automatically, and then glanced at it in surprise. Lubrication. He glanced back, startled.
“You want me to…?” he wasn’t entirely sure how he did it, but he managed to get Warrick to understand the end part of the sentence was ‘prep Greg’ despite the silence and despite the fact that he was pretty damned sure that Greg was prepped pretty well considering he had already taken Warrick’s considerable length once that day. A slow, lazy, hungry smile aimed itself back at him.
“Oh, yeah, bro.” Warrick confirmed lazily. “Get him good and wet for me.”
There was no response from Greg, and Nick doubted that the man was even aware of Nick’s existence any more as Warrick’s hand continued to stroke, the young lab-rat clinging to his lover for support. Soft whimpers followed even the smallest of hand movements, Greg squirming against the teasing torment in the eager, undemanding way of a puppy grateful for any type of affectionate aimed at it. Snapping himself out of his little daze, Nick’s eyes rose to meet Warrick’s amused gaze over Greg’s slim shoulder and then winked at him.
Challenge accepted, as weird and as twisted as it was. And hell, this was what they were supposed to be doing, right? Getting down to the bare bones of the matter. The action. The .. well, sex. Now all he had to do was work out how and he was happy. And it wasn’t as though it was gonna be that hard, surely? All he had to do was just slick up his fingers, press himself to Greg’s hot, desperate, writhing body with its sheen of sweat, and slowly slide his hand over the other man’s lean back and down over his backside… Nick felt the heat under his fingertips as he followed his set schedule, and slowly felt his confidence build as he let himself forget the argument of the kitchen. So far, so good, and yet the touch of his fingertips over the rise of Greg’s ass felt a secret confession somehow, Nick almost expecting Greg to twist and snap at him as he realised exactly who was touching him.
Shouting never happened. Twisting, yes, but then Greg rarely remained still even at the best of times, and Nick was unsurprised when Greg shifted his weight backwards while leaning forward at the same time. The younger man was clearly torn between Warrick’s heat and Nick’s questing, cool fingers, and a little whimper of a plea was tossed out just in case this made any difference to either man’s touch.
Nick chuckled fondly and pressed a number of small kisses to Greg’s shoulder blade, delicate and affectionate, and allowed his fingers to trail cautiously between the other man’s cheeks. Greg, for his part, moaned a little louder and spread his legs wide enough that the man was threatening a groin strain. Nick smirked, and then focused on what his fingers were doing; carefully, slightly guiltily, he allowed one finger to slide across the tight pucker, feeling a nervous shiver of embarrassment and anticipation tickle down his own spine as he did so. Yeah, it still felt wrong, and the only way he could think of describing it involved him regressing back to a five year old; rude. But, hell, that guilty feeling of doing something they shouldn’t simply fuelled his own lust, making it pleasantly uncomfortable to stay in one position and delighting in every single moan that Greg made. And Greg made a lot of moans, positive noises of erotically charged encouragement as he pressed back harder. Suddenly Nick had to focus a little more on his balance to avoid them both ending up in a lubricated pile of limbs.
The moan was captured by a hot, heated kiss between Warrick and Greg, allowing Nick to fight back; his slicked thumb carefully pressed against the tight entrance, a flush of embarrassment creeping to Nick’s cheeks that was nothing but decorative. Putting your fingers up your colleague’s asshole was almost certainly in the no-go zone barring medical intervention, but again that guilty feeling simply made it all the better.
Greg and Warrick’s kiss was deepening, and Nick’s thumb decided to follow the general theme. He ran his tongue over Greg’s shoulder as his thumb slid further inside and then darted out teasingly, his thumb moving over and over again until he could feel Greg shiver and tremble against him. The kiss had broken off to allow Greg air to breathe, the younger man pressing his forehead against Warrick’s chest as he groaned and panted and moaned against Nick’s playful fingers.
“And there’s me thinking you’d be all prim and proper,” Warrick grinned at him over the top of Greg’s head.
“Yeah, right,” Nick met his grin with one of his own, and then chuckled as Greg moaned/complained over the speed. His thumb flickered in and out again, fucking him gently, before sliding it out entirely and replacing it with a cautious, longer finger.
There wasn’t even any hesitation. Greg moaned again, louder, and then forced himself back onto the finger hard enough impale himself on Nick’s somewhat shocked digit. Enthusiasm for a speedy penetration didn’t necessarily mean Greg’s body was ready, of course. Hot, tight and eager muscle held him still before Greg relaxed even further and suddenly Nick’s finger discovered freedom to move.
“Go straight for two,” Warrick advised roughly, his eyes sparkling. “He likes it big. Twist ‘em, make him squeal a bit.”
“I don’t squeal!” Greg panted.
“Liar,” Warrick pressed an affectionate kiss on the top of his head. Greg squirmed again, and then wriggled on Nick’s finger determinedly. Nick chuckled, and slid it out again, adding another finger to his first and watching in fascination as the tight hole slowly accepted the invasion. It was so damned easy to go from that cautious, slow slide to a faster pace, adjusting the speed and power as Greg responded to him. Nick bent his head and pressed a number of light kisses over Greg’s shoulder and neck as he worked, delighting in the little soft grunts and moans of pleasure that each tease extracted.
“’kay, ‘kay, ‘kay,” Greg groaned softly, then wrapped his hands around Warrick’s neck and pulled him forcibly into a breathless, hot kiss. “Get in me. Before I start getting sulky.”
Warrick chuckled roughly, then met Nick’s gaze again over Greg’s shoulder. He winked, and then patted Greg on the shoulder as Nick twisted his fingers once more and then reluctantly withdrew them.
“Turn round,” Warrick breathed into Greg’s ear. “And on your hands and knees.”
Greg nearly broke world speed records trying to do so, arching his back and looking like a dog at a breeder’s show. Another Warrick wink aimed itself at Nick, the larger man’s eyes flickering to indicate that Nick probably would do better doing the same. Swallowing, feeling the heat throb deep within him, Nick slowly settled down on the rug. And that, apparently, was going to be the only slow thing that occurred as Greg immediately leaned over him and took his cock deep in his mouth.
“Shit!” Nick’s back arched in shock, his voice dissolving into soft pants as Greg abandoned the puppy dog lick format to shove Nick’s cock to the very back of his throat. Chuckling and not making the situation any easier to sit through, Greg spread his legs further and stuck his ass as high in the air as he could. Warrick huffed a laugh, and then gave him a little whap on the ass.
“Subtle, man, real subtle.”
Not that this observation halted Greg’s activities at all. Nick dragged his gaze up from staring at the man currently swallowing his lap only to see the look in Warrick’s eyes turn from friendly feline to hungry predator. A look of intense concentration shone in the man’s eyes as Warrick lined himself up, his fingers gripping Greg’s hips tightly as he fought against Greg’s incessant need to wriggle. The preparation hadn’t altered Greg’s work either, the young man continuing to suckle fiercely even as Warrick’s eyes narrowed and his hips slowly began to move forward in determination. Nick took in the muscular lines of Warrick’s chest, the way the light shone off his slick skin as he moved, and felt the burning heat deep within him boil even more. Nick allowed his eyes to drape half closed in pleasure, his hand resting lightly on Greg’s shoulder as he purred his approval with each lick and suckle, but even the skill of Greg’s tongue couldn’t quite distract him away from the show in front of him.
He could tell when Warrick slid in. The cat’s eyes slit further, Warrick’s muscles tensing just as Greg’s ‘oh!’ ghosted across Nick’s cock, and hell, the sight of Warrick slowly sinking deeper into Greg was one that Nick was sure he’d be seeing in his memory for the rest of his life. Each movement that Warrick made was transmitted through Greg to Nick, each grunt, each shiver, and even just the sight of Warrick’s dark fingers curling roughly over Greg’s hips added to the maelstrom of agonising pleasure that was building steadily within him.
From that point it was hard to separate the individual sensations from each other, just as it was hard to tell whose groan belonged to whom. Nick’s soft, panting moans of pleasure were enhanced by the wet noises coming from Greg, the little grunts and whimpers that seemed to vibrate deep within him. Warrick’s breath was fast and hard, grunting in his intensity to drive as deep into Greg as he could, but every so often Nick could hear the soft, near vulnerable hitch in his voice and the purring gasp as Greg squeezed his muscles around him. Greg’s mouth had been forced to withdraw a little to avoid Warrick’s thrusts shoving him so far onto Nick’s throat that they were probably looking at an asphyxiation charge, and that was good, that was more than good; his breath tickled over him, his teeth occasionally raked him, and then that beautiful attention of Greg’s mouth over him, suckling him into completion, was something that Nick never wanted to lose.
“…god…” his own voice traitorously whispered out the word, a plea for mercy as his body was whipped up in a whirl of heat and lust and agony and touch. Greg suckled harder, his movements growing cruder as Warrick pounded into him but no less beautiful or honest for that. Nick groaned, his head tipping back as he struggled to remain upright; his fingers tightened on Greg’s shoulder, knowing they were probably hard enough to leave marks and not having any way to halt it.
It lasted for years or seconds, Nick didn’t know. What he did know was the way his body hitched, his breathing so ragged it took all his strength to rasp out each gasp as the tension gripped hold of every muscle he possessed. Straining, trembling, he tried to gasp out a warning and yet his throat seemed dedicated to fight against him; Nick felt another hard stab of heat deep within him and whimpered, fighting against his own body as it pulled towards the climax he so desperately needed.
He lost. Badly.
Greg thankfully was paying attention enough not to drown in the onslaught as Nick trembled, struck dumb as his body teetered on the edge before crashing into his violent orgasm that shuddered through every muscle that Nick possessed. Panting, gasping for air, he slowly refocused on Greg and his wickedly cheeky grin as the younger man looked at him proudly. The younger man lazily licked up the remains of Nick’s seed on his bottom lip with all the slow care of a seductress on the Strip, his eyes shining happily at Nick’s flushed, satisfied expression.
One hard thrust from Warrick dragged Greg’s attention back to who was ploughing his lower body, and it was clear that Warrick was planning a more ruthless attack now the blow job was over. The younger man’s eyes fluttered closed, his mouth opening in both a display of emotion and the ability to breathe easier as Warrick stepped up the power; Nick leaned back to avoid Greg actually crashing into him as the lab-rat was set a punishingly hard rhythm, over and over again, Warrick fucking him so hard and so fast that Nick felt the strong urge to wince.
Nick glanced up to meet Warrick’s gaze again, the green eyes sparkling despite the sweat on his brow and his muscles prominent as he strained to control himself, and raised his eyebrows in question on what the man wanted Nick to do next. And of course, Warrick had an answer to that one.
Warrick chuckled roughly and slid one arm around Greg’s chest, pulling him backward as he eased himself into a sitting position to cope. Greg whimpered, squirming on his lover’s lap as Warrick managed to find a new rhythm to thrust to. Nick’s eyebrows rose higher at the sheer strength that was needed to keep Greg where he wanted him, but that wasn’t destined to be the only thing he needed to focus on. Warrick’s strained eyes found Nick’s again, a little nod managing to communicate much more than Nick would have believed possible.
Oh yeah, he understood that particular nod. Nick’s grin suddenly found the ability to grow wolfish.
“’kay, bro,” he murmured in reply, crawling closer and finding the perfect location to press against them whilst giving himself room to work. Nick’s hand began to confidently stroke Greg’s swollen cock with strong, almost rough strokes, the type he knew he appreciated himself. Greg’s howls and whimpers for breath suddenly stepped up a notch, the desperate need illustrated throughout his posture as Greg squirmed and wriggled and pushed, whining for anything and everything they could give him.
Team work was surprisingly easy in this situation, and surprisingly quiet. Warrick was already on Nick’s wavelength as though the man had access to Nick’s inner thoughts, and in that exact moment Nick knew that Greg was utterly doomed. The larger man slowly moved Greg’s weight and then slammed upwards again, turning the moans into a sharper noise of shock and pleasure-pain as Warrick’s hard length clearly smashed against the sensitive spot hidden deep within Greg’s body. At the same time Nick worked him harder than before, giving the younger man as much as he could take and then adding a generous tip to it.
One full body tremble later and Greg was theirs, hook, line and sinker. His back arched against Warrick as the other man slammed in once more, Greg’s head resting against the plain of Warrick’s chest as he gasped aloud. A second later and he had climaxed, wetness landing over Nick’s bare chest and hand with each shudder of pleasure, Greg finally stunned into whimpering half-silence as his body betrayed him.
His revenge on Warrick was almost instantaneous. Buried up to his balls inside Greg as the man climaxed, Nick could see the struggle in Warrick’s expression as he desperately tried to ignore the hard, shuddering pleasure that gripped so tightly around him. This was also a battle he was destined to lose, although typically Warrick didn’t go quietly. Where Greg’s expression was all soft surprise and enthusiasms, Warrick’s seemed to be fighting a personal internal war; his expression was strained, his eyes half closed and his entire body focused on the sensations that were already rippling through him.
Nick leaned back and absent-mindedly wiped his fingers on his own already messy thigh as he watched them, fascinated. Spent, Warrick let out a soft groan and then pressed a loving kiss to the side of Greg’s neck, nuzzling him gently before slowly releasing him and letting Greg slowly flop forward. Nick caught him, laughing, and then ruffled the already messed up hair.
“You okay, Greggo?”
“Nghmmmghgh.” Greg squirmed closer to Nick, curling up to him as though Nick was a teddy bear and Greg was a very sleepy toddler.
“Means ‘yes’.” Warrick translated, his own voice strained and breathless. “Or occasionally ‘want ice-cream’. You want a hand to get him up to the couch?”
Nick looked down at the sleepy form of his friend, still snuggled as close as he could with the expression of one who was both utterly satisfied and utterly comfortable, then laughed again.
“Okay. Thanks.” he looked up only to find Warrick’s hand under his jaw, capturing him gently and pulling him into a tender kiss, so different to the power and strength that Warrick was displaying only a few minutes earlier. Nick stared at him, and then smiled shyly at the intense look that Warrick was giving him.
“Any time, Nicky,” Warrick murmured. “Trust me on that,”
And as Nick looked back into the kind, intense green eyes that gazed at him, there was no way he was going to question it.
*
To Part B