FANFIC: Sweet Cool Water by Caroline Crane 2/12

Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: Sweet Cool Water
Author: Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: A hard night on the job and an unexpected encounter with a familiar face force Nick to re-examine some things about himself.
Chapters: 01, 02, 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, 09, 10, 11, 12.

Part two

Waking up had always been overrated, and even though he was used to graveyards by now Nick still had a hard time getting out of bed in the afternoon. It sounded weird when he thought the words; most people had trouble getting up in the morning, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd fallen into the category of 'most people'. He'd always considered himself a night person, so the schedule should appeal to his body's internal clock. Only he was starting to think it wasn't natural for humans to stay up all night and sleep all day, because he couldn't remember the last time he woke up feeling rested.

Today wasn't any better; worse, actually, because when he woke up he remembered every single detail of what had happened the night before. He wished he was hung over, wished he'd gotten drunk in the first place, because at least if he had a pounding headache and a mouth full of cotton he wouldn't remember all the gory details. But the point was that he did – he even remembered where he was, why the sheets felt different against his skin than usual and why the air didn't smell the same as the air in his own apartment.

All that detail without even opening his eyes, and he was good at his job for a reason. Better than Grissom ever gave him credit for, but Nick had a feeling that was because he got off on playing the father figure, on doling out praise and affection in small, controllable doses. Now wasn’t really the time to be psychoanalyzing his boss, though, because the fact was that he was still face down in Greg's bed.

Greg, who had soft lips and that amazing smile and a sweeter ass than Nick ever would have given him credit for. His dick twitched at the thought and he let out an involuntary groan, willing himself not to want what he couldn't ever have again. It had been a mistake from the start, and just as he'd predicted, he regretted everything about it. He had to regret it, because if he didn't he might make the same mistake again.

"Nick." The familiar voice cut into his train of thought, and he winced and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter. Still, he couldn't deny that the hand on his bare shoulder felt good, even though Greg was shaking him. "Nick, you awake? You're on tonight, aren't you?"

And he'd managed to forget about work for a whole thirty seconds, but as soon as Greg mentioned it the dread came rushing right back. He didn't want to move, didn't want to open his eyes even, because as soon as he did he was going to have to get up and face the consequences of a single moment of stupidity. What he really wanted to do was tell Greg to stop touching him, because his hand was moving in little circles now and it was more than just distracting. It made Nick want things he shouldn't be thinking about, not in the light of day when his career was on the line.

"Nick?"

"Yeah," he finally answered, his instincts reacting to the hint of panic in Greg's voice. "Yeah, I'm on tonight." He shifted out from under Greg's hand without actually looking at the other man, forcing his eyes open only to close them against the sudden brightness of afternoon sun in the desert. "What time is it?"

"Pretty late, Sleeping Beauty. Did you wear these same clothes to work yesterday?"

The easy banter was back in Greg's voice now, and even though he knew it should have made him feel better the familiarity set Nick's nerves on edge. There was no reason for it to; they were friends, and Greg wasn't acting any different than he ever did at work when they were talking about video games or sports or girls. Only some of that had turned out to be an act, and now Nick wasn't sure what he knew about Greg. "No," he said, frowning as he glanced at the clothes Greg had picked up and set on the end of the bed. "No, I changed before…"

"Before you went out looking for some action," Greg finished when he trailed off, and he couldn't help himself; he had to look. He just wanted to see that smile, just to see if the sight of it would make him feel as sick to his stomach as the sound did. He turned over slowly, careful not to come into contact with any part of Greg's body, afraid that maybe he wasn't over his temporary bout of insanity. And when he looked up Greg was smiling, but it was a little unsure around the edges and suddenly Nick felt sick and guilty.

"Look, Sanders…"

Greg stood up abruptly at the sound of his voice, clearing his throat and looking at the clock, out the window, the door that Nick assumed led to the bathroom – anywhere but at Nick. "Good, then you have time to take a quick shower and nobody'll have to know you're recycling your clubbing clothes. You can borrow my toothbrush. And I think the towel in there is pretty clean."

Nick opened his mouth to stop the stream of words, maybe to argue that they should just go get his car now so he'd have time to go home and clean up. Then he glanced at the clock and realized just how late it was, all the color draining from his face when he calculated how long he'd been asleep in somebody else's bed. He settled for a mumbled 'thanks' and threw the sheets back, telling himself he wasn't self-conscious about walking around Greg's apartment naked.

"If you hurry we should have just enough time to get you back to your car and get to work on time."

He nodded without looking over his shoulder to see if Greg was watching him; things between them were going to be awkward enough now without adding a whole bunch of unnecessary glances to the mix. The last thing he needed was for Greg to start acting weird around him, but there would be plenty of time to lay out the ground rules for the change in their friendship on the way out to Baker.

A hangover would definitely be better than this, Nick decided as he turned on the shower and stepped under the spray. Anything would be better than the nagging guilt churning in his stomach every time he pictured Greg's face. He always paid a price for nights like last night, but if he couldn't remember the other guy's face it was easier to shake it off and put it behind him. This time, though…this was so much bigger than he'd even realized last night, because this wasn't some faceless guy. This was somebody he actually liked, someone he spent time with whether he wanted to or not.

There was no walking away from this one clean, because no matter how he handled it the damage was already done. Even if Greg did keep his mouth shut about it there was no way they were going to forget it; there was no way Nick was going to be able to look at Greg without remembering how he kissed or what he tasted like or the way he felt pressed up against Nick in the dark. And it wasn't bad enough that they'd had sex – no, Nick could definitely remember something an awful lot like cuddling during the few times he'd woken up enough to be aware of his surroundings. Not that it really surprised him that Greg was a cuddler, but he sure as hell wasn't, so there had to be some other explanation for last night.

It didn't really help that thinking about it was making him hard again, especially when they didn't have time to...but he wasn't going there, because it was not happening again. He wasn't about to jerk off in Greg's shower, either, so he turned the water to cold, gritted his teeth, and told himself he deserved it. It would wake him up, anyway, and maybe once that finally happened he'd come to his senses again.

He liked Greg; that was the important thing, the thing he didn't want to screw up. Greg was a nice guy and a brilliant scientist, and Nick didn't want to have to take his evidence to other techs to get it processed. He didn't want to have to worry about the day that Gil actually gave in and put Greg in the field, because chances were they'd end up working together. In the past Nick had always secretly thought that might be kind of fun, but now…now he'd fucked that up too, all because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants like a normal person.

He didn't stay in the shower as long as he wanted to, because he knew if he took too long Greg would come looking for him. He'd probably make some lame joke about Nick drowning himself or chipping in for the water bill or something, and as much as the thought made Nick smile he couldn't stand to see Greg looking at him again. If it was anybody else maybe this wouldn't be so hard, but Greg had those big, vulnerable eyes and he didn't even try to hide anything he was feeling. He was easier to read than any evidence Nick had run across, and looking at Greg right now was just going to make the guilt worse.

Once he was sure he'd washed the scents of sex and Greg off him he turned off the water, drying himself off quickly before he wrapped the towel around his waist. And he should have remembered to bring his clothes into the bathroom so he wouldn't have to get dressed with Greg watching him, but he'd been in such a hurry to get out of there that he hadn't even thought of it. He shook his head at himself and glanced at his reflection in the mirror over the sink, taking a deep breath before he reached for Greg's toothbrush. It was funny that he felt so weird about brushing his teeth with someone else's toothbrush, especially considering he'd already had Greg's dick in his mouth. That thought was getting him nowhere fast, though, so he shook it off and did his best to ignore the mental image it evoked.

A little Crest and a few recitations of the Miranda rights later and he had his brain back under control; not quite as minty fresh as his breath, but at least he wasn't picturing sucking Greg off in the lab anymore. He filed that thought away under 'never think of again', because he'd learned a long time ago that fantasies were dangerous. It had taken him four years in a frat house and three years on the Dallas P.D. to finally get it through his thick skull, but it had finally sunk in. So he was going to leave all that in his past, just like he was going to put last night behind him and find a way to erase it from his memory.

He squared his shoulders and pulled the bathroom door open, bracing himself for another round of awkward small talk. When he stepped into the bedroom it was empty, though, so he let out the breath he'd been holding and pulled his clothes back on as quickly as possible. He could smell smoke and traces of someone else's cologne on his shirt, but he ignored it and told himself he'd change once he got to work. There was always an extra shirt in his locker in case of really messy crime scenes, so he just had to get through the next hour and he'd be home free.

The key was to set things straight between them as quickly as possible, make sure there weren't any loose ends that could trip either of them up later. It was as much for Greg as it was for him, after all; it wouldn't do either of them any good if anybody at work found out about this, especially if the day shift go a hold of it and started bitching about fraternizing.

He found Greg in the living room watching the news, his stomach clenching all over again when he saw what the top story of the evening still was. As soon as he heard Nick walk in Greg turned off the TV and stood up, and Nick didn't have to look at him to know what he was thinking.

"You worked that triple homicide, didn't you?"

He was pretty sure Greg was trying to keep his voice neutral, but he heard the accusation around the edges anyway. "Yeah. So?"

"So that's why you were so freaked out last night, right? Is that what you didn't want to talk about?"

Nick frowned and turned away from Greg, rechecking his pockets needlessly to make sure his wallet and keys were still where they were supposed to be. "I told you, it was just a rough night. It's not like we don't see that stuff all the time."

"Yeah, but…"

"Drop it, okay?" And he didn't mean that to sound as harsh as it did, but he couldn't afford to take it back. Not when Greg was giving him the eyes again, like Nick had just smacked him instead of biting his head off. "I told you, it wasn't a big deal."

"Fine. Whatever."

He turned back in time to see Greg's shoulders stiffen, and he had to stop himself from reaching out to apologize with his hands instead of his words. He'd never been great with words; in the box, yeah, but interrogating suspects was totally different from this. If Greg had information Nick needed he'd know what to do, what to say to finesse the right answers out of him. He could charm just about anybody, all he had to do was figure out their weakness and play to it. But this wasn't a case, and Greg didn't have anything Nick needed to know. He was just a guy who was probably trying to help, but help was the last thing Nick wanted.

Greg picked up his keys and pulled open the apartment door, glancing back once to make sure Nick had actually followed him before he headed for his Jeep. In the late afternoon light Nick could see that it was a few years old, probably bought second-hand and patched back together. He thought of his own truck and wondered exactly how little Greg made being a lab rat, but as soon as he realized what he was doing he clamped down on the thought until it was dead. Greg's bank account was his own business, and the less personal Nick made things the easier this would be. They were friends, sure, but they didn't hang out together after work. Well, they never had before last night, anyway, and now they could never even go for a beer together.

That would be too much like asking Greg out on a date. It was different with Warrick or any of the other guys at work; he could go for beers or breakfast with any of them, because he hadn't fucked any of them. This thing with Greg was his fault and he knew he had to make it right, but he also knew it could never go back to the way it had been.

He waited until they were well out of Vegas before he turned to look at the other man, noting Greg's grip on the steering wheel and the way he was chewing his lower lip. Part of him wanted to reach over and ease that lip out from under Greg's teeth, run his thumb across Greg's lip and forget every single promise he'd made to himself in the last hour. That meant throwing away everything he'd ever worked for, though, and it just wasn't worth it. It had just been one night, and no matter how good the sex was he couldn't compare it to his career.

"Look, Greg," he began, turning to stare out the windshield at the desert, "last night I was…the thing is…"

"You don't have to give me the speech," Greg interrupted, and for once Nick was actually grateful that someone had cut him off mid-stammer. He glanced over to find Greg watching him, but as soon as their eyes locked Greg turned to look out at the road again. "I know it was a one-time thing, I knew that when I asked you if you wanted to come home with me. It's not like I was expecting you to wanna drive to the Little White Chapel or anything."

He paused and glanced over at Nick again, flashing him a crooked grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. It looked so unnatural on him that Nick's breath caught in his throat, and he was glad the wind was rattling the soft top of the Jeep enough that Greg didn't hear him gasp. "Besides, guys can't get married in Vegas, even if the King himself performs the ceremony."

Nick knew he was trying to lighten the mood, let them both off the hook with a little corny Vegas humor. He knew he shouldn't take the out, that if he was a stand-up guy he'd make Greg tell him the truth. Only he didn't want to hear the truth; all he wanted was for everything to go back to the way it had been 48 hours ago. "So we're cool."

"As ice," Greg answered without missing a beat. He pulled into the parking lot where Nick's truck was still parked, looking conspicuous now that it wasn't surrounded by a hundred other cars. Greg stopped next to the truck, stealing a quick glance at Nick as he swung the door of the Jeep open. "For the record, I can do the whole 'last night never happened' thing. Won't be the first time."

Nick glanced back at him, choking back the question that immediately formed. He was dying to know if Greg was referring to somebody else on the job, but he couldn't ask that. He didn't have a right to, not when he was asking Greg to keep his mouth shut and forget they'd ever run into each other. "Right. Thanks for the lift," he finally said, stepping out of the Jeep and turning to close the door behind him.

"No problem," Greg answered, but he didn't quite meet Nick's gaze. As soon as the passenger door slammed shut he pulled away, leaving a cloud of dust behind him. For a long moment Nick stood in place and watched the Jeep tear out of the deserted parking lot, but when he realized what he was doing he shook his head at himself and dug in his pocket for his keys. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a morning after that was quite that awkward, but then he wasn't in the habit of sleeping with people he knew all that well. His stomach turned again at the thought, so he shook it off and followed Greg's trail back onto the road.

With the help of the Pledge of Allegiance and ear-splitting heavy metal he managed to keep his mind blank the whole way back to the city, and by the time he pulled into the parking lot outside the crime lab he was feeling a little better. If he tried hard enough he could make last night seem like a distant memory, and he knew as soon as he got his assignment for the night that he wouldn't think about it at all. As long as he didn't let himself remember the smile on Greg's face when Nick first woke up or the way he'd looked when he dropped Nick off at his car he'd be okay, and if he played his cards right he could get through the entire shift without seeing Greg at all.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods of good timing when he found the locker room empty, unbuttoning his shirt as quickly as possible before he reached into his locker to pull out the spare he kept there. He eased the black cotton button-down off his shoulders and picked it up, the scent of cologne floating up to him again. A memory of how that scent got there caught him off guard and he balled the shirt up, his fingers closing tight around the fabric as he turned toward the trash. He got as far as holding it over the garbage can before he stopped himself and slowly loosened his stranglehold on the fabric, checking to make sure nobody was watching him before he lifted the collar to his face and breathed in.

He knew he should throw it away; for his own sanity he should just toss it in the garbage and never think about it again, but his senses were flooded with Greg's cologne and the memory of a warm mouth moving against his, and before he knew what he was doing he was stuffing the shirt in the back of his locker. Slowly he pulled his other shirt on, taking his time fastening the buttons before he looked at his locker again. He just didn't want anyone to see the shirt in the garbage and wonder what it was doing there, he told himself, nodding in silent agreement with that logic as he tucked the clean shirt in and slipped his I.D. over his head. It wasn't like he was going to keep it; he'd just wait until he could throw it away somewhere where no one would find it.

Part three