Hold Me
You're not going to believe me but I just found this hiding on my hard drive. I'd forgotten I'd written it. Honest. It was just one of those "short things". I don't even remember when I wrote it. Shortly before I started "Of Blood" I think so it may be a couple or few years old.
Short... hope it's enjoyed for what it is...
Title: Hold Me
Author: Asa Meda
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: PG
Summary: Nigel Crane left something behind at Nick's home
Warnings: None I can think of
"Hold me. Please, just hold me for a minute and then I'll..."
Grissom pushed pause, freezing the moment. Nicholas Stokes sat naked on his bed, his hand expertly running up and down his own aroused cock, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. It was a private moment, meant to be seen by no one... except it had been...
Play.
... make love to you... make it good, Gil. Make it great... just once... just this once...
Grissom swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. This was not right... not like this... not now. Fortunately only Catherine had seen this. She had decided to stay behind in the lab, to review the tapes they had recovered from Nick's house. She thought it best... just in case...
"You need to see this," she had warned as she brought the tape into his office. "It's the last one Nigel Crane did before--"
Before he confronted Nick. Before he killed Morris Pearson. Before Nick knew his every movement, his every spoken word over the past few weeks had been recorded. This tape was done the day before Nigel threw the young man out a window.
"What are you going to do?"
Catherine was curious... concerned. Grissom drew a deep breath. "I don't know." So many decisions to make.
His friend... his confidant... stood up then... touched his shoulder... leaned close to his ear...
"I forgot to log it," she whispered. "Seems some tapes were destroyed when Nick's ceiling caved in."
Oh. He said nothing as he watched her go, as he gripped the now inadmissible piece of evidence. Oh.
Grissom stopped his Tahoe in front of his residence then paused, seeing only one light on in his living room, where his guest hopefully slept. After doing all the official exercises at the station, after officially identifying Nigel Crane as his attacker, Nick was told he could go home. Grissom had escorted his team from the observation room, had given them their assignments for the rest of the shift then returned to find Nick sitting in a chair, his head down on the metal table, his eyes closed...
"Hold me. Please, just hold me for a minute and then I'll..."
Nick's muttered words meant nothing at the time. Grissom merely assumed it was part of the younger man's dream... a result of the Vicodin still racing through his system. Now he wondered how often Nick thought of that... of them... He gently woke his co-worker, his subordinate, and offered to take him to his own home...
Grissom unlocked his door and walked into his home. His eyes fell on things out of place, things Nick had carefully placed here and there as part of his unintentional invasion of Gil's privacy. Yet Grissom felt no discomfort as he normally would. Nick was welcome here... had always been welcome...
"Hey."
Grissom hung his keys and shed his jacket. Nick sat on the couch, his temporary bed, nursing his braced arm. It throbbed, Grissom knew. But Nick refused to take anymore medications, especially when he was alone. Grissom studied the miserable soul, his decision made before he left his office. He lifted the small plastic bag he had briefly placed on the little table by the door, listening to the quiet rattle within.
It had taken five good swings of a sledge hammer to completely and utterly destroy the offending evidence, giving truth to Catherine's lie. He went into the kitchen and threw the bag in his trash. He had taken great pains to recover every single piece of plastic and tape. And this would not be its final resting place. He would be sure it would not be found... ever.
"Gil?" Nick called out, his voice exhausted and desperate. Grissom looked up, wondering if his friend would finally take his medication.
Nicholas Stokes turned watery brown eyes on his supervisor, his face flushed with discomfort of a kind Gil knew was not all physicial. "I know this is..." He hesitated then met Grissom's gaze. "Hold me. Please, just hold me for a minute and then I'll..."
Gil didn't let him finish. He swiftly came in, sat down by Nick's side then carefully... gently... drew the young man into his arms as the tears began to flow, as soul-deep pain found release, determined that later he would find a way to fill the void left behind with his heart...
The End
Short... hope it's enjoyed for what it is...
Title: Hold Me
Author: Asa Meda
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Rating: PG
Summary: Nigel Crane left something behind at Nick's home
Warnings: None I can think of
"Hold me. Please, just hold me for a minute and then I'll..."
Grissom pushed pause, freezing the moment. Nicholas Stokes sat naked on his bed, his hand expertly running up and down his own aroused cock, his head thrown back, his eyes closed. It was a private moment, meant to be seen by no one... except it had been...
Play.
... make love to you... make it good, Gil. Make it great... just once... just this once...
Grissom swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. This was not right... not like this... not now. Fortunately only Catherine had seen this. She had decided to stay behind in the lab, to review the tapes they had recovered from Nick's house. She thought it best... just in case...
"You need to see this," she had warned as she brought the tape into his office. "It's the last one Nigel Crane did before--"
Before he confronted Nick. Before he killed Morris Pearson. Before Nick knew his every movement, his every spoken word over the past few weeks had been recorded. This tape was done the day before Nigel threw the young man out a window.
"What are you going to do?"
Catherine was curious... concerned. Grissom drew a deep breath. "I don't know." So many decisions to make.
His friend... his confidant... stood up then... touched his shoulder... leaned close to his ear...
"I forgot to log it," she whispered. "Seems some tapes were destroyed when Nick's ceiling caved in."
Oh. He said nothing as he watched her go, as he gripped the now inadmissible piece of evidence. Oh.
Grissom stopped his Tahoe in front of his residence then paused, seeing only one light on in his living room, where his guest hopefully slept. After doing all the official exercises at the station, after officially identifying Nigel Crane as his attacker, Nick was told he could go home. Grissom had escorted his team from the observation room, had given them their assignments for the rest of the shift then returned to find Nick sitting in a chair, his head down on the metal table, his eyes closed...
"Hold me. Please, just hold me for a minute and then I'll..."
Nick's muttered words meant nothing at the time. Grissom merely assumed it was part of the younger man's dream... a result of the Vicodin still racing through his system. Now he wondered how often Nick thought of that... of them... He gently woke his co-worker, his subordinate, and offered to take him to his own home...
Grissom unlocked his door and walked into his home. His eyes fell on things out of place, things Nick had carefully placed here and there as part of his unintentional invasion of Gil's privacy. Yet Grissom felt no discomfort as he normally would. Nick was welcome here... had always been welcome...
"Hey."
Grissom hung his keys and shed his jacket. Nick sat on the couch, his temporary bed, nursing his braced arm. It throbbed, Grissom knew. But Nick refused to take anymore medications, especially when he was alone. Grissom studied the miserable soul, his decision made before he left his office. He lifted the small plastic bag he had briefly placed on the little table by the door, listening to the quiet rattle within.
It had taken five good swings of a sledge hammer to completely and utterly destroy the offending evidence, giving truth to Catherine's lie. He went into the kitchen and threw the bag in his trash. He had taken great pains to recover every single piece of plastic and tape. And this would not be its final resting place. He would be sure it would not be found... ever.
"Gil?" Nick called out, his voice exhausted and desperate. Grissom looked up, wondering if his friend would finally take his medication.
Nicholas Stokes turned watery brown eyes on his supervisor, his face flushed with discomfort of a kind Gil knew was not all physicial. "I know this is..." He hesitated then met Grissom's gaze. "Hold me. Please, just hold me for a minute and then I'll..."
Gil didn't let him finish. He swiftly came in, sat down by Nick's side then carefully... gently... drew the young man into his arms as the tears began to flow, as soul-deep pain found release, determined that later he would find a way to fill the void left behind with his heart...
The End