Of Life and Living: Chapter 8b
Title: Of Life and Living : Chapter 8b
Author: Laurelgardner
Rating: Goes to NC-17
Pairings: Grissom/Greg, Sara/Nick, Warrick/OFC, Catherine/OMC
Summary: Gil Grissom and Greg Sanders have resigned themselves to certain realities. All of that is about to change.
Author's Note: This story takes place five years after the events of season 5. A lot has changed in this time; Greg is a level 3 CSI and happily out of the closet, Ecklie is gone (ding, dong, the witch is dead!), Sofia is assistant director of the lab, Catherine is happily remarried and head of the Reno crime lab (but don't worry, she still plays a part in this tale!), Warrick has returned to night shift, and Nick and Sara are not only married but are heads of day and swing shifts, respectively.
Warnings: Happy story with a few dark themes. References to murder and child abuse, but hey, this is CSI. Nobody we care about gets raped, killed or supernaturally pregnant, so no worries there. Mostly, this is a character study/romance with lots dialogue and eventually, sex.
Disclaimer: I own them, at least partially. Did you know that Anthony Zuiker runs a time-share operation?
This chapter is un-betaed because I'm too damn impatient. But when beta-ing occurs, this story owes everything toknightmusic . Hell, it owes everything to her even when beta-ing does not occur.
Here is is, the moment you've all been waiting for! But don't stop reading now, there is much more story to come...
Previous chapters:
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8a
He was glad this wasn't the first time he'd had Gil in his apartment; there was enough suspense in the air without having to wonder what Gil thought of his old couch or the hideous color of the paint in the bathroom, or to worry about whether he'd be allergic to Mungo, Greg's cat.
They'd hardly spoken on the journey over, and Greg had to confess, he didn't have any idea what to say at this point. They'd known each other for twelve years, for crying out loud; they were past small talk, past all that getting-to-know you crap, past a decade's worth of earning trust and friendship, so what did that leave?
Well, that was a no-brainer, of course. But were they really ready for sex right now? Just like that? He didn't even know.
"You want a beer or something?" he asked once they were in his living room.
"No," said Gil, seating himself heavily on the aforementioned ugly couch. He still looked hella nervous. Greg sighed and sat down next to him.
"So where do we go from here?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Gil. He sat motionless for a moment, then dragged both his hands down over his face. "Greg, is this really happening?" he asked weakly.
"Yeah," Greg laughed. "It is." He scootched closer to Gil and took his hand.
"I don't believe it," Gil said, "I never even considered this a possibility. It was all just a pipe dream."
Greg didn't know whether to feel flattered by this revelation or offended on Gil's behalf.
"You didn't think you had a chance with me?"
Gil shook his head.
"Is that why you're so nervous?"
Gil nodded. "That, and...I'm afraid..."
"Of what?"
"Of ruining this."
Greg rubbed his face thoughtfully. "Is it important to you?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's important to me, too. We'll make it work, Gil." And at that moment, it seemed perfectly natural to just lean in and kiss him again, so Greg did.
He could sense the tension in Gil's body without even touching him, but he kissed Greg back hungrily. Greg tasted the inside of Gil's mouth, sweet and hot with the distinctly aromatic flavor of Earl Grey.
He touched Gil's face and neck, running his fingers through the silvery hair. He wanted to move his hands down and touch him absolutely everywhere, but he held back. After all, he wasn't a straight boy on prom night, copping feels and trying to see how far he could get before earning himself a good, hard shove in the opposite direction. No, he needed to talk to Gil, so reluctantly, he pulled away.
Oh, but the sight of Gil, panting very slightly like that, hair ruffled and lips kiss-swollen, was enough to give a guy an instant hard-on.
"Gil," he gasped, "tell me what you want to have happen tonight."
Gil looked at him uncertainly. "You first."
Greg shrugged. "Anything. Anything you want, I want. If you wanna sit and talk for an hour, hold hands, kiss good night and then go home, that sounds fine to me. If you wanna tie me to the bed, pour mayonnaise on me, and fuck me with my ankles up by my ears, we can do that, too."
"Mayonnaise?"
Greg shrugged again. "I just wanted you to know your options are open."
Gil nodded, but the look of indecision remained fixed on his face. Greg ran the back of his forefinger down Gil's jaw line. "You really didn't think you had a chance with me?" Greg asked again; he couldn't get over it.
Gil shook his head.
"So you didn't think I'd be in love with you?"
"No."
"Completely and totally gone every damn time you walk in the room?"
"No."
"And you didn't think I'd want to take you home with me and do things to you that are so good they used to be illegal?"
Gil didn't answer that one. He just gaped.
"Gil," Greg said, almost whispering. "Can I touch you?"
"Touch me?"
Greg slid his hand down Gil's chest, bringing his fingertips to rest at the top of Gil's fly. "Yes, Gil. Would you like that?"
Eyes closed, Gil nodded. Smiling, Greg kissed him again as he slowly undid the closings on Gil's pants. He slid one hand inside, touching, but not yet grasping what he found inside.
"Whoa!" He couldn't hold back a soft exclamation as his fingers made their first contact with Gil's cock. He was rock-hard already, and...Impressively sized, to say the least.
"I think I'm gonna need both hands!" Greg joked, then laughed as Gil went red in the face. He was embarrassed by it. God, but that was cute!
"Aw, Gil," said Greg, "that's a good thing." With his free hand, he stroked the side of his face. Just then, something occurred to him.” It’s been a while, hasn't it."
Jaw clenched, Gil nodded.
"And never with a man?"
"No."
Greg nodded his understanding. He removed his hand from Gil's pants, not to stop, just to slow things down a bit. He tilted Gil's face toward his and kissed him, briefly and tenderly. "Have you ever wanted to?"
Gil sighed. "Yes and no. It's complicated." The weary look on his face discouraged Greg from seeking further explanation.
"Do you want to now?"
"Yes." No hesitation. Still...
"But you don't think you should," Greg guessed. Gil squeezed his eyes shut, frustration etched on his face.
"Are you afraid I won't respect you in the morning?" Greg asked. "That you won't like it? That you will like it?" He raised his hand and gently stroked the hair at Grissom's temples.
Gil covered his face in his hands. "It's too much," he murmured.
Greg gently pulled Gil's hands away. "What's too much, Gil?"
Gil's eyes were terrified. "Getting what I want."
Smiling tenderly, Greg cupped Gil's face with his left hand.
"That doesn't mean you can't have it."
He leaned in for another kiss, pleased to feel Gil's tongue slowly slide into his mouth this time. He moved his hand back down to Gil's crotch, ending the kiss in order to see his face as he plunged his hand inside. Carefully, he freed Gil's cock, reveling in the thick, solid feel of it in his hand. Stroking the shaft slowly, he then used the thumb of his free hand to circle the tip, spreading the droplets of moisture he found there.
Gil whimpered and pressed his face into Greg's shoulder, but Greg guided his face back up.
"I want to see you," he said. "Look at me."
As sex acts went, this was probably the most basic thing he could do for Gil on their first time, Still, that didn't mean he was going to let it be boring. He varied the speed and firmness of his strokes, his stomach doing little flips of joy as Gil tensed and squirmed next to him. Reverently, Greg kissed his cheek.
"You're beautiful like this," he whispered. "Don't hold back."
"Greg..." Gil gasped.
"It's all right, Gil. Let go."
He watched as Gil's fingers clenched, squeezing the couch cushions beneath them. His face held a look as if he were in pain, then suddenly, he clamped his own hand over Greg's on his shaft, gripping fiercely. This time, Greg didn't stop from hiding his face in Greg's chest as he came, liquid warmth spilling over Greg's fingers. Breathless, Gil removed his hand as it subsided, but Greg kept holding him for a minute as he went soft, enjoying the intimacy of the touch.
With his clean hand, he stroked Gil's forehead. "Cool," he said simply.
Panting slightly, Gil peered at him, eyes half lidded. He said nothing.
"I'm gonna go wash off," said Greg, "Be right back." Standing up, he gave Gil one last, quick kiss before heading out of the living room and down the hall.
In the bathroom, he washed and dried his hands, then paused to check himself out in the mirror. He wasn't sure why; after all, did it really matter what his hair looked like right now? He was still hoping to get it thoroughly mussed before the end of the night anyway, but then, that was entirely up to Gil. Greg remembered how nervous he'd been on his first time with a guy, and it stood to reason that it would be worse for Gil. Something about old dogs and new tricks, which was something Greg could cope with, especially given the spectacular jack-off fodder that this evening had already provided him with.
Whistling, Greg stepped out of the bathroom and into the hallway...
...where Gil pounced on him.
He felt Gil before he saw him, that's how fast it was. Before Greg knew what was happening, he'd been pinned to the wall between the bathroom door and the bookcase. He couldn't even move his head as Gil kissed him hard, pressing back. Gil slid his hands under Greg's t-shirt, touching his bare skin. At the same time, he moved his mouth from Greg's lips to his neck.
Greg laughed in joyful surprise. "Gil!" Well, so much for his earlier theory. Greg had the uncanny feeling that he'd awakened a sleeping giant. And geez, if this what the guy was like post-coitus, what else did Greg have to look forward to?
Gil hiked Greg's shirt up on his chest and knelt down to kiss the exposed skin. "Tell me you want this," he murmured.
"Oh god, yes," Greg cried, but he wasn't sure what Gil had in mind. Surely he didn't mean to...not this soon.
He did. Gil was trailing kisses along the path leading down from Greg's belly button, but paused as he started to undo Greg's fly. He looked up at Greg, smiling good-humoredly.
"This is new to me," he said.
Greg shook his head, dismissing the warning. " 'Sreally not that hard," he said, regretting his choice of words instantly...
"I beg to differ." Gil just had to say it.
Greg groaned, first at the pun, but then for an entirely different reason as Gil wrapped a hand around his cock. Greg wove his hands in Gil's hair, hoping he would have the presence of mind not to pull it.
"Should I stop you when I...?" he began, but Gil shook his head before Greg could even finish the sentence.
And then Gil was stroking him, doing a fairly expert job of it, too, but hey, he was a smart man. Greg watched, transfixed; it would be too much, he knew, seeing it happen, but he couldn't look away. Gil slowly took him in his mouth, and it almost made Greg come right there, the sight of himself disappearing past Gil's lips like that.
"Christ," he murmured, and then his knees gave way, causing him to slide down the wall a little before he caught himself. He didn't think he would have guessed that Gil was a beginner, since what he was doing was more than good enough. Or maybe it was just the idea, knowing that it was Gil Grissom doing this to him, sucking him off.
It had to be a dream. Had to be. Any minute now he'd wake up, disappointed and frustrated in his bed.
But he didn't wake up, he just got closer and closer to the inevitable conclusion, unable to slow it even if he'd wanted to. He felt his balls tighten, or was that just because Gil was touching them? No...it was both; definitely both.
"Soon," he said to Gil. He thought the guy should at least have some warning...
A few seconds more, the flash of a thought in Greg's head that it had to be illegal to do things like that with your tongue, and then...it happened. He came, seeing stars behind his eyes while Gil kept his mouth on him, kept moving his hand on him, right up until the moment when Greg's whole body went slack and he was utterly spent.
Grinning, Gil tucked him back into his pants and zipped him up, neat as you please. Greg did sink to the floor then, wrapping his arms around Gil and sighing.
"Holy shit," he panted, once his breath had returned to him.
"Thanks, I think," said Gil.
"So," said Greg, "Are you more, or less freaked out now?"
Gil quirked a half-smile. "Definitely less."
"Stay here today?"
"I'd love to," said Gil.
Greg sighed and settled himself into the crook of Gil's neck. They sat contentedly for a few minutes, then suddenly Greg started to giggle.
"What is it?" Gil asked.
"We're idiots," he said, then laughed out loud. "We could have been doing this for years, Gil. But we're such idiots, neither of us could mention it!"
Gil went very still beside him. "Years, Greg? That's a very long time," he said quietly.
Greg twisted around in Gil's arms to look at his face . "What, you hadn't thought about it?" he asked. "Gil, I poured my freakin' heart out to you! You didn't just think we were messing around, did you?"
"No!" said Gil, with such conviction that Greg couldn't but believe him. "No. I just...Look, forget I said anything."
"Okay," said Greg warily. "We're...we're gonna be exclusive, right?" Gil laughed out loud, at that question, a dark guffaw.
"Who else do you think I'm doing, Greg?" he asked.
Greg shrugged. "I don't know. But you're supposed to communicate about those things, I guess. Never make assumptions."
"That's true," Gil agreed.
"It's not like I'm gonna be running around having wild Friday nights, either," he said. "I mean, it's been almost two years for me. Before tonight, I mean."
Gil gave him an interested look. "Two years, huh?"
"Yup," said Greg. "I uh, sorta had my cap set for someone special." He tapped Gil's chest. "How about you?"
Gil raised an eyebrow. "How long, you mean?"
"Yeah."
Gil shook his head. "You don't want to know."
"Sure I do." Greg grinned at him.
Gil sighed. "Seven."
Greg gaped. "Years?"
"Yes, Greg."
"You poor guy. Well," he added, standing up and stretching. "We'll just have to make up for lost time." He offered Gil his hand and pulled him to his feet. "But let's have a drink, first. Do you know how to make a Harvey Wallbanger?"
Gil grinned back at him mischievously. "I suppose we could call it that." And before he even had time to yelp in surprise, Gil had him pinned against the wall again.
It was probably just as well, Greg thought, as Gil smothered his mouth in a kiss, pressing their bodies tight together. He probably didn't have the right stuff in his kitchen, anyway.