Fic: Perfect (Gil/Nick) NC-17

[knightmusic]

Title: Perfect
Author: Knightmusic
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Gil/Nick
Summary: Just what does it take to earn Gil Grissom's approval?
Author's Note/Warnings:  Good Lord!  I meant for this to be a quick little PWP.  But Gil will not be rushed, so here we are, 3,000 words later.  This follows about two days after the events in Incidental.  I've done little more than proof-read it myself, because my beta-reader is currently asleep and I'm too impatient to wait before posting. 
Disclaimer: I'm with laurelgardner on this one.  CSI owns ME.



“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Gil said. He looked away from the road long enough to flash Nick a secretive and amused smile. For a moment Nick looked puzzled and like he might say something more, and then he smiled and relaxed.

“All right, but it had better be good,” Nick warned in a playful tone.

Grissom didn’t answer. If he opened his mouth, the laugh would probably escape, and then Nick would want to know what the joke was. And there wasn’t any joke. He just felt like laughing. He’d felt like that a lot in the past few days.

It was always difficult finding parking where they were going, but eventually he found a place. They had to walk a bit, and Gil found he was glad; it delayed the moment where Nick would find out what he was up to. He put his hand on the middle of Nick’s back to guide him to the right door. Nick grinned at him when he did it.

“Have you ever been here before?” Gil said as they stepped inside. Nick looked around and shook his head.

“It’s not very well known,” he continued, “But it’s great for people like us.” Nick stopped short.

“People like us?” he asked, looking equal parts confused and like he swallowed something spicy and sour.

“Yeah. People who work nights,” Gil said, pretending he didn’t know what Nick thought he had meant. “No one looks at you funny if you order a steak and beer at eight in the morning.”

“Oh,” Nick said, trying to regain his normal cool. “So any particular reason we’re here?” he said as they choose a booth and sat down.

Here it came again, that inappropriate, giddy laugh. Gil redirected it into an enigmatic smile. “Well, I thought you were interested in a date,” he said. “I decided to take you up on it.”

Nick stared at him; his mouth and eyes open wide in laughing surprise. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table and shook his head. “You really don’t like being predictable, do you?”

Gil shrugged. “It’s a fault.”

“Sure, right,” Nick gave him a curious look. “So what else do I get to find out about the biggest mystery ever to come through our lab?”

Grissom wrinkled his nose. “I’m hardly a mystery.”

“Sure,” Nick said, dramatically elongating the vowel and nodding slowly. Grissom waited for him to say something more, but he just sat there, one eyebrow raised, looking expectant.

“What?” Grissom said, lifting his hands in helpless surrender. “I’m not.” He paused, and then said, before he could reconsider, “At least not as far as you’re concerned.”

That stopped Nick in his tracks. “Is that right?” he said. Grissom nodded.

“Most relationships are built on trust and communication, Nicky,” Grissom teased lightly.

Nick laughed. “Aw, and here I was thinking it was all about the sex.”

Grissom didn’t respond or react but kept a neutral expression. At least, mostly neutral. He knew he couldn’t quite hide his smile. Just as the waitress approached to take their orders, he let the other shoe drop.

“I wouldn’t say that’s what it’s all about, but it’s certainly what I’m interested in,” Grissom said, shifting into a very self-satisfied posture and smirking at Nick. Without missing a beat, he turned to the waitress.

“We’d both like special, please. Beer, Nick?” he said, evenly. Nick managed to maintain his composure just enough to nod.

“What’s gotten into you today?” Nick asked after the waitress had left.

Grissom put on his most innocent face. “I’m just happy, Nick,” he said, and Nick’s answering smile made his throat go a little tight. It made him want to reach across and touch his face, or his hand or something. He wondered if he cared whether it was a good idea or not.

But Nick opted for another solution. Grissom hadn’t noticed him take his left hand off the table, but he felt it now, giving his knee a little squeeze.

“I’m glad,” Nick said. “Cuz I am too.”

One of the reasons Gil had always liked this place was their promptness. This time, when the waitress returned with their meals, he wished he’d ordered something that took longer to prepare. He didn’t feel in any hurry to get on with his meal and leave like he normally did. But at least Nick didn’t need his left hand to eat.

“Do you want me to drop you off at your place?” Grissom asked on their way out.

“I don’t really want to go home just yet,” Nick said. His tone was suggestive, but his expression was cautious

“You’re welcome to come back to my place for a while, if you’d like,” Gil offered. “Unless you want to go somewhere else?”

Nick shook his head and smiled. “Naw. First part of that sounds good. Think I’ll take you up on it.” They reached Gil’s Tahoe and climbed in.

Gil had barely closed his own door when Nick reached across for him. The movement was unhurried and his touch to Gil’s throat was gentle, but it was possibly the most intense gesture Gil had experienced in a while.

At least, it was the most intense until Nick kissed him. That trumped it.

“The problem with a date with you,” Nick said, and Gil couldn’t figure out how he was talking, since it didn’t feel like he’d pulled their lips apart, “is that I can’t do this when we’re in public.”

“I wouldn’t stop you,” Gil said. Or at least meant to say. It was difficult to enunciate with his mouth full of Nick’s tongue. He tasted Nick’s smile, and it made him shiver.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been big on PDA, anyway,” Nick said, pulling his mouth away and tilting his head back, begging for attention to his throat. It wasn’t as though Gil needed extra incentive to comply; he’d discovered earlier that the particular noise Nick made when he sucked and licked at his jugular was quite enough. He’d never known that Nick’s voice could go quite so high.

He felt Nick’s hand slid over his thigh. He’d never known his own voice could go that high either. Not that he’d had much occasion to find out before. He wondered if he’d been missing out, but then decided not. No one else could make this as good as Nicky was.

“Didn’t you say something about your place?” Nick whispered.

“Yeah,” Gil agreed, swiping his tongue over Nick’s jaw one last time before pulling his head up. “But you’ll need to keep your hands to yourself if I’m going to drive.”

“Aw, shucks,” Nick said, but he was still grinning.

Rush hour traffic was subsiding as they started back, but it was still going to take them a little while to get to the other end of the city where Gil lived. Nick was clearly disinclined to wait patiently.

Gil didn’t say anything when Nick’s hand returned to his thigh, or even when he started tracing circles with his fingertips. Nick probably meant it to be distracting, but it was closer to comforting. He dropped one hand off the steering wheel to rest on top of Nick’s. Nick twined their fingers together, and just let their hands sit there for a while, occasionally making slow, idle movements up and down Gil’s thigh.

When Nick slid their hands up to Gil’s crotch, Gil jumped, causing the car to swerve a bit. Despite the sudden erratic movement of the car, or perhaps using it as a diversion, Nick slid his hand down into Gil’s pants. It was a tight fit, as he hadn’t undone the button and zipper, but it didn’t seem to bother Nick and it sure as hell didn’t bother Gil. Except that Nick was doing it while he was trying to drive.

“Nick,” he said, reaching down and intending to remove Nick’s hand, “It’s really hard for me to think about driving when you’re doing that.” But as much as he’d intended to put a stop to Nick’s actions, he found it more difficult than he’d anticipated. Nick’s fingers could only barely reach his cock, and he was twitching them slowly over Gil’s skin.

“Who says I want you to think about driving?” Nick whispered and reached over with his other hand to unzip Gil’s pants. Gil had to put both hands on the wheel again to avoid sideswiping the Toyota next to them.

“Nick,” Gil said, part warning, mostly pleading. They were close to his townhouse now, he was taking the exit, but they still had to make it through a bit of residential neighborhood first. They should be able to make it. He hoped they could make it.

“You might wanna pull over,” Nick said. He was leaning across the cab and Gil could feel his breath in his ear. Nick bit his earlobe. “Cuz I’m gonna have to suck you - now - and we wouldn’t want to cause an accident.”

They weren’t gonna make it. There was a park on the next block he could make for. Nick was kissing his way down Gil’s neck, and it was a race to see who would make it to their destination first. Gil won, but just barely. He put the Tahoe into park at the same moment that he felt Nick’s tongue and breath on his cock.

The angle was awkward, and the quarters were cramped. Nick couldn’t quite maneuver with the steering wheel hitting the back of his head, and Gil was still mostly trapped in his pants and boxers. It wasn’t shaping up to be the best blowjob Gil had ever received, but he could already tell that it was going to be his favorite.

Nick was done teasing and was moving into the realms of ruthlessness.

Gil braced his arms against the steering wheel and pressed himself back into the seat. He tried to gasp for breath but every muscle in his body, including his chest and lungs, had frozen in place. Trying to breathe was like trying to inhale gelatin.

Gil had never enjoyed being powerless before. It only took that one point of contact between them for Nick to pin Gil in place, rendering him completely incapable of moving. And he was literally melting in Nick’s mouth.

Gil gasped something that he’d meant to be Nick’s name. It didn’t sound even remotely close, but Nick seemed to understand anyway. Gil felt that smile again and this time it didn’t make him shiver; it made him shudder.

And then he was breaking apart, piece by piece; his whole world was reduced to an emotional and sensual fallout zone.

He wanted Nick to look at him. He wanted him to see: to know. No one had done this to him before.

“Griss? Gil?” Nick asked, lifting his head and stroking Gil’s face. Gil answered him the only way he could think to. He pressed their mouths together, manifesting the sum total of who he was and what he felt into one kiss.

Days could have passed by the time they pulled apart for all Gil knew. Relativity was a remarkable thing. It must have been days, because there was no way Gil could have collected himself enough to zip up and drive home in only a few minutes.

By the time they reached Gil’s townhouse, he felt sufficiently recovered from Nick’s activities. Recovered but not unchanged. Oddly enough, there was something empowering and invigorating about having been laid bare in front of Nick. When the Tahoe stopped, he was out of his seat and opening Nick’s door before Nick had managed to undo his seatbelt.

Gil got a hold of the collar of Nick’s shirt and pulled him from the vehicle. Mouth first. The rest of Nick followed, rather ungracefully, and Gil ended up supporting him bodily and trying to keep both of them from falling over. He thought there was a good chance he might provide Sara with an actual case of spontaneous human combustion.

He dragged them to his front door, pinning Nick against it as he hunted for his keys. Once upon a time he might have given consideration to propriety. He did have neighbors, after all. But at the moment he had Nick’s hands and lips on him, and he was a man on a mission. It became a moot point anyway when he got the door open.

He hadn’t let go of Nick’s lips yet.

He shut the door and it was his turn to be pinned against it. Nick was sliding his hands up under Gil’s polo shirt, and his being nearly fifty and only minutes past an orgasm were only barely sufficient factors keeping him from getting hard again. As it was, it was a heated argument. But at least that meant there was blood available to operate his brain. He pushed them apart.

“You’re in so much trouble, Nicky my boy,” he whispered into Nick’s ear. Nick just blinked and swallowed.

“Sounds good to me,” he said, thickly.

Gil smiled and started unbuttoning Nick’s shirt. Nick tried to help, to move things along more quickly, but Gil dismissed his attempts. He went slowly - one button at a time - but his eyes never left Nick’s.

Nick never wore undershirts, and Gil didn’t need to look at what he was uncovering, at least not just yet. It was enough, for now, to touch. And this way he could see the stages of expression on Nick’s face.

“Grissom,” Nick gasped. His voice sounded like it had come from a throat scratched raw from torment. It made Gil smile and his pulse quicken for a beat. “Get on with it, will you?” Nick insisted and tried again to expedite the removal of his shirt.

Gil caught his wrists and held them at Nick’s sides. He cocked one eyebrow up and his head to one side, teasing with his eyes. He shook his head slowly and slightly.

“’Wisely and slow,’” he said with gentle emphasis. “’They stumble that run fast.’”

It looked like Nick might either groan at the words or argue with him, so Gil preempted either action, firmly enforcing his words through a barely-there kiss.

They’d tasted frantic already, and the wonder that had occurred in the Tahoe had awakened a hedonistic rush in Gil Grissom. Now he wanted the next flavor: slow and deliberate. He wanted anything and everything available: all varieties of Nick Stokes.

He kept Nick’s hands pinned to his sides while he slowed them down with the kiss. Their lips barely moved. In the end they were doing little more than inhaling each others breath, and losing themselves in the slow, tiny, precise movements of their lips and tongues.

Once Nick seemed resigned to Gil’s pace, Gil released his arms and finished removing his shirt. Nick was uninterested in being a passive participant, and slid his own hands up Grissom’s sides and back under his shirt. At the contact, Gil made a delighted noise into Nick’s mouth. He was answered by a similar noise from Nick. Although Nick sounded much less relaxed. When Gil undid his pants, he felt he had a pretty good idea why.

“Been like that since I kissed you in the parking lot,” Nick’s words never met fresh air; he spoke them directly into Gil’s mouth.

“You poor thing,” Grissom replied in the same fashion. “Not much longer now.”

Shoes and socks were awkward - they always were - and weren’t made any less so by their reluctant to separate their mouths. Gil dragged his hands back up Nick’s naked body and cradled his face for a few seconds. Then he stepped back to take his first look.

His body tried to miraculously jump-start his libido and have a spontaneous aneurysm at the same time.

Nick was gorgeous and everyone knew it. Gil certainly did. He’d known it long before this moment. It didn’t make the sight any less amazing. What did was enhance it was Nick’s face.

He didn’t look nervous, exactly, but there was tension in his expectant expression. Gil had seen that face before, although the difference in context threw him considerably. Nick wanted, desperately needed, Gil’s approval.

“Nicky,” Gil whispered, taking Nick’s face in his hands again and meeting those dark eyes. “You’re perfect,” he said. Whether he kissed Nick or Nick kissed him then was debatable.

Gil slid on hand down Nick’s body, mapping and caressing. He ran a light, inquiring touch over his cock and Nick made a strangled sound in his throat.

“Gil, please. Please!” he said, breaking the kiss. Gil looked up sharply.

“Don’t beg me, Nicky,” he said, meaningfully. “I don’t ever want to make you beg. Just trust me.” Gil kissed his neck briefly. “Ask me anything, but don’t beg. Okay?” Nick nodded.

“Can we go to your bedroom?” Nick asked and Gil smiled.

“That way,” he pointed to a door. “I’m going to get a drink first.”

Nick looked at him like he hadn’t understood what Gil had said. “I’ll bring one for you, too. And I’ll be in in a minute. Now get!” Nick’s face changed to mirror Gil’s jovial tone. He turned down the hall and Gil indulged the sudden, unexpected temptation to swat him on the ass as he left. Nick yelped and looked at him over his shoulder.

“Be quick,” he instructed and disappeared into Gil’s bedroom.

Gil wished he had champagne on hand, but, of course, this scenario hadn’t really been on his mind the last time he’d been shopping. And anyway, if he had gotten champagne, he’d have wanted enough to fill his bathtub. And he had a big bathtub.

Those thoughts could wait until later. He found the bottle of white wine that Nick had brought for Thanksgiving. There wasn’t much left in it, and he killed it between two glasses.

He brought the wine into the bedroom and stopped in the doorway, looking. Nick was lying in the middle of the bed, waiting for him. Gil let out a heavy sigh.

“You can’t be good for my health,” he said, approaching the bed and sitting next to Nick. Nick smiled.

“You know you love it,” he said.

I do, Grissom thought immediately, but handed the wineglass to Nick instead of saying anything. He was about to take a sip of his own when a better thought occurred to him.

“Here,” he said, setting down his own glass. “Let me.” He took the glass back from Nick and guided him up until he was leaning against Gil’s chest. He wrapped his arm around Nick’s shoulders and brought the wineglass to Nick’s mouth, tipping it slowly and gradually.

With his other hand, he traced Nick’s throat as he sipped and swallowed. When he took the glass away, he turned Nick’s head to kiss him before he licked the wine off his lips. Definitely the best way to share a drink.

“Gil,” Nick said, “I want you to touch me.” It was a good thing that course of action was already on Gil’s agenda. There was little chance he could resist that voice. He set the glass down and lay Nick back down on the bed.

He’d exercised restraint before - only allowing the lightest touches with nothing more than his fingertips. Now he used both hands, palms flat on Nick’s skin, sliding them over his arms, chest and sides. Nick’s body rose under his hands, pressing into the touches.

Nick managed to keep his breathing steady until Gil’s mouth started following his hands. Then he began something that was a kind of hybrid between gasping, moaning and whispering something that sounded a little like Gil’s name.

By the time Gil reached Nick’s cock, the only part of the other man that wasn’t begging was his voice. Gil answered his plea.

“Shit!” Nick gasped. Gil sucked and licked, setting up a pace somewhere in between teasing and urgent and perilously close to full boil. He took in as much as he could and used palms and fingers to cover what he couldn’t.

He couldn’t make out what Nick was saying, but it was the best nonsense he’d ever heard. He felt almost as good when Nick came as he had at his own orgasm.

Gil rested his head on Nick’s thigh while he waited for him to get his breath back.

“How did I let you get away with staying dressed?” Gil heard and turned up to look at Nick. He shrugged. At least, as well as he could do while lying down.

“This wasn’t about me,” he said and Nick snorted.

“Yeah, well it is now. Get up here,” he pulled Grissom up into a sitting position and started pulling his clothes off. Gil helped a little, but mostly watched Nick as he ran his hands of Gil’s skin.

When all his own clothes were off, Nick smiled at him.

“Now that’s my kind of perfect,” he said, sliding closer to Gil.

They were quiet for a few minutes while Gil tried to decide what the best thing to do next was. “Do you want me to give you a ride home?” he asked, hesitantly. Nick’s smile got bigger.

“I don’t really want to go home just yet,” he said. “If that’s okay with you.” Gil smiled back, and finally let out the laugh that had started tickling his chest two days ago. The laugh that had no joke. The laugh that tried to be there because it belonged in his life now.

“It’s perfect,” he said.