FANFIC: Sweet Cool Water by Caroline Crane 4/12

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 four

Nick wasn't sure how long he sat in his truck staring up at Greg's apartment building. Time seemed to slow down while he sat there, or maybe it sped up – he wasn't sure anymore, he wasn't sure of anything except the fact that he shouldn't be there. He should have driven home and gone to bed alone, or maybe even driven back out to that club in Baker. At least he knew Greg wouldn't be there tonight, but that was the problem, wasn't it? Because he wanted to see Greg again, he wanted this to be easy and he knew Greg could give him that. He'd offered, hadn't he? So there was no reason for Nick to feel like he was taking advantage of anybody.

All the rationalization in the world wasn't convincing him, though, and he knew if he sat there long enough people were going to start coming out of their apartments to go to their day jobs and see him. Somebody might even decide he looked suspicious and call the cops, and he could just picture himself trying to explain what he was doing to one of the guys on the day shift. What he should have done was start the engine, driven back across town to his own place, taken a cold shower and gone to bed. What he did instead was get out of the truck and walk just a little faster than necessary up to Greg's apartment, knocking too hard on the door before he had a chance to talk himself out of it.

A few endless seconds later the door swung open and there was Greg again, grinning at him in that way that always made Nick want to do things he knew he couldn't do. Only now he could; now they both knew exactly where they stood, and Greg was standing there waiting for him to come in. "Thought maybe you'd changed your mind."

And that wasn't just a hint of doubt in Greg's voice, was it? It couldn't be, Nick decided, because doubt implied that this meant something to Greg, and he knew that wasn't true. It was just sex. Just sex, and it didn't really matter that they still had to look at each other after it was over. They could separate work from this…whatever between them, because it would run its course soon and then they'd both forget all about it.

It would run its course today. It had to, Nick told himself as he kicked the door shut behind him and let Greg lead him into the apartment. After this they'd go back to normal, joke around about girls and cases and pretend that they didn't know anything about each other outside the fragile glass walls of the crime lab.

Nick dropped his jacket on the back of a chair as he passed the kitchen, letting Greg lead him right through the living room and into the bedroom. There was no awkward small talk, no build-up to the main event, and that was exactly what Nick wanted. Somehow Greg knew that, but he wasn't going to think about how right now. He couldn't overanalyze this, because if he did he'd start feeling again and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

By the time they reached Greg's bed Nick's shirt was off, abandoned on the floor somewhere between the bedroom door and the foot of the bed. He kicked off his shoes while Greg shrugged out of his too-loud Hawaiian print shirt, leaving him in just a pair of jeans and a white undershirt. He'd already ditched his shoes and socks at some point before Nick worked up the courage to knock on his door, and something about the sight of Greg standing there barefoot made Nick want him even more. He'd never had a reaction like that with anyone, but suddenly his hands itched to touch and without thinking he reached out and caught Greg's arm, pulling him forward and reaching between them to fumble with the button on his jeans.

"You…uh…you need some help with that?" Greg breathed after a few seconds of Nick's hands working unsuccessfully on the button, his fingers rendered thick and clumsy by the force of his need.

He nodded and let go abruptly, letting Greg ease back onto the mattress and slide the button out of its hole. His zipper slid down to reveal just a hint of red and white striped cotton under denim; weird flash of a candy cane and Nick grinned, lost for a second in the image of Greg all decked out for Christmas in July. Not that it ever felt much like Christmas in Vegas, and he still hadn't decided if that was because of the place itself or the fact that his family was still back in Texas. Then Greg smiled up at him from under his eyelashes and Nick forgot all about the holidays, planting a knee on either side of the other man and crawling up the mattress to kiss him.

Hard and demanding, all lips and tongue and clash of teeth against skin, the taste of Greg familiar and yet still new enough to make Nick instantly hard. He gasped against Greg's mouth and pulled back, just long enough to focus on dark eyes before he dove in again and caught that mouth against his. The image of Greg leaning back on his elbows with his pants undone was going to fuel more fantasies than he wanted to think about, especially while he was trying to convince himself that they couldn't do this anymore. Once was too much, and twice…twice was just stupid, so anything past that was inexcusable.

Warm hands slid up his back and into his hair, clutching tight enough to sting a little when he lifted his hips far enough to slide one hand past Greg's waistband. Hard arch against him and Greg was pulsing in his hand like this was all he'd been thinking about since he left Nick standing in the hall outside Grissom's office. And maybe it was; maybe while Nick was busy trying to talk himself out of wanting this Greg was anticipating it, picturing the moment when they could drop all the real life bullshit and just feel for awhile. It seemed like a pretty good plan while Greg was pinned underneath him, and Nick couldn't remember anymore why he'd been so sure this was such a bad idea.

He released Greg's mouth with one last, bruising kiss, ignoring the frustration in Greg's eyes and his moan when Nick pulled his hands away to push his undershirt up over his chest. He could have just dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and not bothered with the rest of their clothes, but he wanted to see Greg while he sucked him. He wanted to mouth all that smooth skin stretched taut across his stomach, feel soft hair under his palms when he ran his hands up Greg's thighs. He wanted to see if he could make Greg scream his name, because for once he was fucking somebody who actually knew it.

Greg sat up long enough to tug his shirt over his head and drop it on the floor, leaning up on his elbows to watch Nick work his jeans down over his hips. When he was left in just his candy-striped boxers Nick paused, knuckles stroking absently across Greg's calf as he wondered if Greg was peppermint-flavored today. He ducked his head to the side to hide a grin, shaking it off before he turned back to find those boxers easing down Greg's hips. A quick bend of his knees and they were gone altogether, and Nick couldn't help it, he had to taste.

The first hot stroke of tongue across the head of Greg's cock told Nick that he was still Greg-flavored, and he swallowed a hysterical laugh and distracted himself with mouthing his way down Greg's length. His tongue dipped between spread legs, past Greg's balls to slide across that taut stretch of skin and then Greg just…opened for him, knees up and spread wide and he was moaning, murmuring something that didn't make sense when Nick's tongue slid inside him.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd done this. In college, maybe, or before, when he was young and stupid and fumbling around with one of the two guys in his high school he actually knew for sure were discreet enough not to tell anybody about the things they did when they managed to find a little time alone together. Most of his fucks these days were hard and fast, usually standing up in the corner of some public place, dangerous enough to turn him on but a little too dangerous to let him relax and take his time.

The first time with Greg had been completely private, but he'd been too wound up and it had all been too fast for him to slow down. He was still in a hurry this time, nerves and blood clawing at his insides, demanding that he just take because he might not get this chance again ever and what if it all got ripped away from him before he got what he wanted? He had to force himself to go slow, like swimming against a strong tide or wading through mud, but he wanted it to last this time. He wanted to know how Greg's skin felt against his, to memorize the way he kissed so that when this was all over he'd have something to work with.

And he wasn't surprised that Greg was a talker – the constant stream of nonsense words pouring out of him was almost comforting, breaking up the silence in the room and reminding Nick of where he was and who he was with. This wasn't just some nameless fuck, and even though he didn't want it to Nick couldn't deny that that made it better. His patience was stretched to the limit when he finally got what he was waiting for; a choked Nick, please that made his heart thud and his cock twitch and his whole body feel like he'd just touched a livewire.

He looked up to find Greg clutching the sheets in one hand, knuckles white against blue cotton. In his other hand was the lube they'd dropped on the bed the night before, and Nick realized suddenly that these were the same sheets they'd slept on just fourteen hours ago. That seemed important somehow, but he couldn't think about it and focus on getting his jeans off at the same time, so he pushed the thought aside and stripped out of the rest of his clothes as fast as possible. He found a condom on the table next to the bed and reached for the lube, leaning over Greg to kiss him hard before he rolled the condom on and ran a slick hand over his own dick.

There was still so much of Greg he hadn't touched; he didn't know all the spots that made him moan or whimper or shout, didn't know if Greg liked to be fucked hard or made love to, slow and gentle and all the things Nick never let himself do. Because this was always about getting off, getting it over with so he could go back to his other life and forget about the way this made him feel until he just couldn't ignore it anymore. It was about coming hard and fast while he stared at the wall or the back of someone's head or the inside of his own eyelids, but never like this – face to face with long, surprisingly muscular legs wrapped around him.

It was never agonizingly slow, so good it was almost painful, the body under his arching up to draw him in deeper with each thrust. It was never a hand at the back of his neck to drag him down, teeth grazing his bottom lip before it was sucked into a hot mouth, fingers in his hair and heels digging into his back to urge him in further, just a little harder until he couldn't take anymore. And it was never hot mouth against mouth, more sharing air that actually kissing as he came down from his orgasm, elbows locked and his whole body shaking. It was never soothing hands on his back and shoulders, kisses feathered across his lips, chin, every part of his sweat-damp skin that Greg could reach. And when he finally pulled out there was a sigh that he was almost sure was his own, soft and a little sad around the edges because something that felt that good should never have to end.

His fingers shook when he rolled the condom off and dropped it in the trash, and when he turned back Greg was still hard and God, touching himself almost lazily, like it didn't bother him at all to wait for Nick to finish what he'd started. And that was only fair, so Nick started at his neck, pushing Greg's hand away to replace it with his own. He alternated between rough strokes and the lightest of touches, teasing until the breath on his ear was raspy and uneven and the hands on his back flexed hard against his skin.

He couldn't get enough of the way Greg tasted; salt and musk and something almost sweet that Nick was sure was uniquely Greg, his head thrown back to expose his neck to Nick's mouth. And he was going to leave a mark, but he didn't even care if he left evidence behind because he hadn't felt this way in a long time and he didn't want it to end…ever, if possible. He pulled back to survey the bright red mark on Greg's neck, the fingers of his free hand tracing the mouth-shaped outline before he pressed their lips together again and slid his tongue inside.

There were traces of mint on Greg's tongue, and Nick realized he must have brushed his teeth while he was waiting for Nick to show up. Probably showered too, if the clean scent of his sweat-slick skin was any indication. Nick wondered if Greg thought about him in the shower, if he was hard before Nick knocked on the door. Pictured Greg standing under the water, fingers wrapped tight around his cock, whispering Nick's name when he came…

He wanted to hear that now; more than anything, he wanted to watch Greg while he came, see his name on those lips and know…something. He wasn't even sure what, but none of this made sense anyway so he wasn't too worried that he didn't really understand what he was feeling. It was a rush, knowing how much Greg wanted him. Knowing that Greg had probably been looking at him for awhile, imagining what it would be like to kiss Nick, what his hands would feel like on Greg's body.

There was an audible gasp when he wrenched his mouth away from Greg's; he wasn't sure who made the noise, but it didn't matter. All that mattered were Greg's eyes, squeezed shut tight like he was working hard not to lose control, Greg's hips moving in time with Nick's hand, leaving the mattress with every thrust. He knew it wasn't quite enough, but he wanted to watch Greg's face when he came, so instead of replacing his hand with his mouth he let go long enough to kneel between Greg's legs. Those eyes snapped open to look at him, but before Greg could ask him what the hell he was doing Nick was stroking him again.

Greg's eyelids fluttered, long lashes against pale cheeks flushed red with effort, and Nick ignored the weird pounding in his heart and used his free hand to nudge the other man's legs a little further apart. And God, Greg looked good stretched out in front of him, totally unselfconscious about the fact that he was on display. His whole body was flushed, his hips still working with each stroke of Nick's hand. Then Nick slid two fingers inside him, and Greg's whole body shuddered. For a second Nick wondered if it was too much, if he was still too sensitive, but when he started to pull them out Greg's eyes snapped open. "Jesus, Nick…more."

A third finger joined the first two and Greg thrust up hard, then again, and when Nick twisted his grip just a little and drove his fingers in as far as they would go Greg closed his eyes and arched up hard, his whole body tensing for a second before he collapsed again. Nick left his fingers buried inside Greg while he licked his stomach clean, then he turned his attention to Greg's slowly softening cock, cleaning him thoroughly before he eased his fingers free and stretched out on the mattress again. He glanced over at Greg, watching his chest heave while he fought to get oxygen back into his lungs. His lips were parted, red and swollen and Nick wanted to kiss them again, but instead he turned his attention to the ceiling and studied the patterns the early morning sun cast on the plaster.

"Jesus, that was…"

The sound of Greg's voice, breathless and vaguely awed, made Nick's cock twitch, but he ignored it and flashed a wry grin at the other man. "Thanks."

Funny little half-smile, and Greg's hand slid through his hair before it dropped away again. "And here I thought you'd forgotten how to talk in the past two hours."

And he hadn't even realized until that moment that he hadn't said a word since he got there, but he wasn't really surprised. Talking just complicated things, made everything too real in a way he wasn't ready to deal with. Would never be ready, not if things kept going the way they had since he figured out how well 'I'm gay' would go over if he said it to his father. But lately everything was spiraling out of control, and right now this was the only thing that felt right. "Talking's overrated."

"See, I'm a big fan, myself," Greg said, and Nick smiled up at the ceiling because that, at least, was undeniable. Sometimes it was really fucking annoying, too, but mostly he liked the sound of Greg's voice. Liked the way it warmed him from the inside when Greg cracked jokes at work, grinned at him and then started spouting off tech-speak like he expected Nick to be able to keep up with him. He liked the way it sounded when it was low and close to his ear, liked the breathless sound of his name carried on Greg's voice when he came. He liked a lot of things about Greg, and maybe in a world where he wasn't a former cop and his father wasn't a big shot judge he could see where this thing between them could go.

As soon as the thought surfaced he clamped down hard on it. He wasn't thinking about his father, not while he could still taste Greg on his tongue. He wasn't thinking about anything; that was the deal, the promise he'd made to himself when he got out of his truck and walked up to Greg's door. This was just a release of tension; they both knew it, they knew he needed to get his mind off work and unsolvable cases and unreasonable bosses for awhile. Greg was just being a friend, and as grateful as Nick was for that, he wasn't about to let himself think it was anything else.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Greg announced, pushing himself up onto one elbow to look down at Nick. "You can crash here if you want. I don't mind."

Nick nodded dumbly, letting Greg's voice wash over him without really registering the words. But when he realized Greg was getting up he reached out, his hand catching Greg's wrist before he had time to talk himself out of it. The kiss was softer this time, like Nick was searching for something in the way Greg mouth moved against his. He didn't even know what the question was, but his stomach knotted when Greg kissed him back.

Maybe he was afraid to let Greg go even long enough to take a shower; maybe he was worried that he'd find a way to talk himself into getting up and getting dressed, leaving without a word. Maybe he'd even get all the way home before he started regretting it, when he was alone in his own bed with no warm body making him too hot and no promise of more in the morning. He wasn't thinking about the reasons why he'd stopped Greg from getting out of bed, but when Greg murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'fuck the shower' against his mouth Nick was glad he had.

Part five