FANFIC: Sweet Cool Water by Caroline Crane 1/12

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 one

You look so fine
I want to break your heart
And give you mine

It was the music that kept him away from these places. Okay, the music and the fact that he didn't like to run the risk of being recognized. There were some nights, though, when the job got to be too much and there was only one way to let off enough steam to make him feel human again. Well. Two ways, really, but usually one led to the other in places like this.

Normally when they had a tough case and the whole team had pulled a double he'd just go right home and pass out the second he hit the bed, but nights like tonight were different. On nights like tonight, when there had been too much blood and too much death and he'd been reminded once too often of what humans could do to each other, he needed something else. Sleep wasn't enough to cure this kind of rolling anger, the darkness that he kept pushed down as far as he could until finally he couldn't stand it anymore. On nights like this he needed something raw and basic and totally anonymous.

There were other places he could find it; places where the music didn't pound inside his skull and make him a little dizzy, but that was the whole reason he came to the club he was standing in right now. He liked the buzz he got from the combination of sleep deprivation and techno music, because it kept him a little off center. The rest of his life was devoted to staying in control, never letting his guard down so that no one on the job would have any reason to talk about him. But on nights like this the object of the game was giving up that control; it was a free fall with no net, and there was no guarantee that anyone would be there to catch him.

He wove his way through the crowd, pushing back against the crush of bodies until he found himself at the center of the dance floor. It wasn't where he'd been aiming, but the combination of music and heat and bare skin made it hard to navigate. Besides, the dance floor was where he'd end up eventually, so it didn't really matter that he hadn't gotten a chance to survey the crowd first.

The less he knew about the faces around him the better, he told himself as he let someone pull him into the dance. He didn't even look at the person who wrapped their arms around him, didn't want to know who belonged to the hands pressed against his ass. Faces didn't matter in a place like this; that was the whole point of coming here, to lose himself in the crowd and the music and forget for awhile who he was and what he'd seen tonight. The best way to do that was out on the dance floor, even if what he was doing couldn't really be called dancing so much as letting a stranger move him in time to the music.

It was a different kind of thrill than solving a case or even anonymous sex in a bathroom stall; this was the only time he could let himself give up control, the only way he could let go of what everyone expected of him. He barely noticed when the arms that had been around him disappeared, only to be replaced by another body pressing close to him. And it didn't matter who he was dancing with, because the club was so packed that the entire dance floor moved as a single entity. He could have been dancing with all of them or completely alone; none of it mattered, as long as the music kept pounding loud enough to drive the memories out of his head.

And he could just picture the faces of the night shift if they could see him now – let out a hysterical little laugh at the thought, smiling blindly at the guy who was currently wrapped around him. He thought the guy smiled back, but it didn't matter to either of them what he was laughing at so he let the thought float away on the music. Bodies swayed in and out of his line of vision, but he never focused on them long enough to notice any distinguishing characteristics. It was surprisingly easy to turn off his natural tendency to pick up details about his surroundings, but the fact that he could let instinct go so easily just made the whole experience even better.

He let go of the person pressed up against him, smiling again when the stranger slid out of his arms and disappeared into the crowd. And then he was alone again, but he knew it wouldn't last long. He knew he was attractive, and even though he didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it he knew how to use it when he wanted something. What he wanted tonight wasn't hard for someone like him to come by; the trick was deciding who he wanted it from.

He turned and surveyed the dance floor a little more carefully this time, his gaze landing on a black cotton shirt stretched across a pair of slight shoulders. He let his eyes wander down to take in black leather pants that outlined the curve of a nice ass, stopping when he reached the tops of black boots and starting back up again. The guy was about his height; smaller in the shoulders and thinner around the waist, with dark blond hair that looked like it was either gelled way too much or soaked through with sweat. Watching the way the guy danced Nick had the feeling it was probably the latter; he moved like the music was inside him, half unfocused energy and half fluid grace.

It was mesmerizing to watch, and before Nick even realized he was moving he was halfway through the crowd, his own black button-down clinging to his sweat-damp skin as he let the crush of dancers move him closer to his target. There was something almost familiar about the way the guy moved, Nick decided, but he couldn't quite put his finger on who he reminded Nick of. It didn't really matter anyway; in fact, the less he thought about the rest of his life the better, so he pushed the thought away as he let the crowd and the music pull him into the dance again.

They were close now; so close that Nick could feel the heat and energy radiating off the other man, and he knew without question that he'd made the right choice. This was the person who could help him forget, no questions asked, and tomorrow when he woke up his world would be right side up again. That was all he wanted – all he needed, really – and he knew he'd come to the right place to find it.

Another wave of heat rolled over him as he swayed closer to all that sweet promise wrapped up in a pair of leather pants, and he reached out a hand almost unconsciously to touch the muscles he could see working under that black t-shirt. His fingers just brushed against soft cotton when the other man turned in time to the music, making it look as graceful as though he'd choreographed every move before he showed up at the club. And finally Nick looked up, his heart dropping like a lead balloon as he made eye contact for the first time all night.

The next few seconds were a blur, mainly characterized by the crowd, the music and the walls closing in on him all at once, followed quickly by a rolling wave of nausea. His first instinct was to turn and run in the other direction, but even if he tried he knew the crowd would make any kind of graceful escape impossible. Besides, it didn't matter if he ran, because Greg had recognized him and he was already giving Nick that impish grin that usually made him crazy.

"Don't tell me there's a dead body around here someplace," Greg said, leaning close enough to whisper the words in the vicinity of Nick's ear. And there wasn't a dead body yet, but Nick was pretty sure there might be any second now. Only he wouldn't be the one doing the investigating, because if anybody died on the dance floor it was going to be him. His heart was beating so fast that he was almost sure it would burst right out of his chest any second now, and even if that was a medical impossibility there was a first time for everything.

"No," he snapped, trying and failing not to notice the scent of Greg's cologne as he leaned in to answer the question. "What are you doing here, Sanders?"

"Same thing as you, I guess." Greg's smile faded abruptly, and he glanced around suspiciously before focusing on Nick again. "You're not working undercover or something, are you?"

For a second Nick considered lying. He thought about telling Greg that yes, he was undercover, and Greg should get the hell out of there before he got himself caught up in whatever went down. The only problem was that Greg would find out eventually that he'd been lying, and then Nick would be right back in the same mess. The last thing he'd ever expected when he walked into the club was to run into someone he worked with; he'd spent years carefully guarding all his secrets, and one moment of weakness had brought the biggest one out in front of the worst person possible. There was no way Greg was going to keep this quiet, even if Nick asked him to. He just wasn't capable of discretion.

"Hey, Nick. You okay?"

Until he registered the question Nick wasn't aware that he'd been staring blindly, but as soon as the sound of Greg's voice registered he shook his head and schooled his features into as menacing a scowl as he could muster. "Never better. Just forget you saw me here, okay?"

He turned without waiting for an answer; it wasn't worth sticking around to listen to Greg promise that he'd keep his mouth shut, because even if he said he would Nick knew better than to believe him. It wasn't Greg's fault, he was just the kind of guy who couldn't stand to sit on a good piece of gossip. Nick had never really cared one way or the other before, but now that Greg had something on him…his stomach dropped as he wove his way through the crowd to stop in front of the bar.

There was nothing he could do about it now, and unless he came up with an airtight excuse for what he was doing in a gay club all the way out in Baker he knew he could kiss his career goodbye. It was one thing for Greg; he was just a lab tech, and even if he was out the brass wouldn't really pay much attention to his personal life. Nick, on the other hand – he was close enough to a cop that he had to play by the rules, and it didn't matter that it was 2003 and the department was supposed to have an equal opportunity policy. He'd seen enough guys forced out of various branches of the department to know what would happen to him.

He ordered a beer and tossed a few bills on the bar, lifting the cool bottle to his mouth and taking a long swallow before he turned to look at the crowd again. All he saw, however, was another flash of black cotton and damp blond hair. Greg squeezed in next to him and gestured for the bartender, ordering a drink Nick had never heard of before he turned to look at the other man. "Listen, Nick, you don't have to worry about it."

"About what?" Nick asked before he could stop himself. He winced as soon as the question escaped his lips, mentally kicking himself for not just ignoring Greg.

"About me telling anybody you were here. I can keep a secret." Greg turned to face him, his gaze wandering from Nick's face down toward his chest. "Man, of all the people I thought I'd run into here..."

"You didn't," Nick interrupted, glancing sidelong at Greg long enough to catch the other man grinning at him. And damn if Greg didn't look sexy when he smiled like that, especially now that Nick knew he owned something besides button-downs with obnoxious color schemes. Greg Sanders in leather pants…if he could have told anybody at work they never would have believed him. This was officially turning out to be the worst night of his life.

"Right, right," Greg answered, holding up his hands defensively when Nick glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Everybody always says you're so into the ladies."

This was not happening to him. It couldn't be, because his night had already been hell and he was positive he couldn't take anymore. It was bad enough that he'd run into somebody he knew in this place, but now Greg was just standing there, being…Greg, with the smarmy tone of voice and the knowing gestures. It was more than Nick could handle, especially on twenty-four hours without sleep. "Look, Greg, no offense, but don't you have something else to do?"

"Not really." Greg shrugged and reached for his wallet as the bartender reappeared and set something blue down in front of him. He picked up the glass and turned around, leaning against the bar with his shoulder pressed against Nick's.

Nick waited for him to say something else, to try to start another pointless conversation in the hopes of getting Nick to admit why he was in the club. It wasn't like Greg to give up when he thought there was something going on that he should know about, but instead of trying to annoy Nick into talking he was calmly sipping his drink while he surveyed the crowd. Nick knew he should be grateful for the silence, but it was hard to be grateful when Greg was still standing next to him. The fact was that Nick had been attracted to him before he realized who he was, and it hadn't gone away just because Greg turned around. He could ignore it, though, because he'd learned a long time ago how to control his emotions.

"What about you?" As soon as the words escaped his lips Nick rolled his eyes at himself, but Greg didn't even glance over at him before he answered.

"What about me?"

"I mean you're always talking about girls, hitting on Sara and Catherine," Nick answered, frowning when Greg glanced over at him long enough to raise an eyebrow. "You told me once that you'd met the mother of your children. You were looking at her DNA. Greenest eyes you've ever seen, something like that."

For a second Greg looked confused, then he laughed and turned to lean into Nick's personal space. "Oh, you mean Sandra. Just because I was looking at her DNA doesn’t mean I was going out with her. I went out with her brother for awhile, but then things got kind of messy and we broke up. Too bad, they both had great genes. I bet she would have been totally into the surrogate thing, too. You know, in case I ever decide I want kids."

The entire time he was talking Nick stared at him like he'd never seen him before. He was starting to wonder if he had, because he could have sworn that Greg had come on to Sara and Catherine and pretty much every female who worked in the lab. Then again, Greg flirted with everybody, including Nick, so maybe he should have seen this coming. He was too out of practice with stuff like this to be able to tell when someone was flirting with him or just joking around, and it usually got him in trouble. "Whatever. Just…"

"Yeah, I know. I never saw you here. Look, I get the whole 'don't ask, don't tell' thing at work, okay? I'm not gonna out you to Grissom or anybody else. But since you're here and I'm here, you know…we could dance or something." Greg flashed a hopeful grin, and Nick found himself actually getting caught up in the other man's smile for a second before he remembered who he was talking to.

"Look, Greg, no offense, but I don't think that's such a good idea." He tipped his beer back and drained the bottle in one long pull, setting the empty bottle down on the counter and shaking his head. Instantly the room spun a little, and he realized too late how long it had been since he'd had any food. He felt the bar start to slide out from under him, but before he hit the floor an arm slid around his waist and pulled him upright.

"Jesus, are you sure you're okay?" Greg asked, his hand lingering on Nick's back and warming the other man's skin through his shirt.

Nick nodded, but the motion made the room spin a little more so he closed his eyes tight against the sensation. "It's just been a really long night."

"You wanna talk about it?"

He managed to shake his head without tipping over again, but it took a lot more effort than it should have. Every time Greg asked if he was okay the question brought with it a flood of images he'd been trying to forget all night; he found himself checking his hands self-consciously, reassuring himself for the thousandth time that night that they weren't covered in blood.

"Okay, you don't wanna talk and you don't wanna dance." Greg paused and Nick stole a glance at him out of the corner of his eye, smiling a little in spite of himself at the other man's thoughtful expression. "Wanna go to my place?"

Nick's grin faded as abruptly as it surfaced; he felt his knees waver a little, but he had a feeling this time it didn't have anything to do with the beer. He opened his mouth to say no, to tell Greg that that was definitely a bad idea. For one thing, he didn't go home with guys he met in this place. The whole point was that it was random and anonymous and over fast enough that he could tell himself it was just one of those things. It never meant anything; he didn't give it a chance to, but this time…this time it was somebody he knew, and no matter what happened he was going to have to look at Greg at work the next day.

But he couldn't stop the flood of memories from the case he'd spent the past day working, and even though they knew each other Nick had a feeling Greg wouldn't be asking any more questions he didn't want to answer. Still, going home with someone he worked with – especially someone like Greg – was out of the question. They both knew it, so he knew he didn't even have to answer. He started to shake his head anyway, but before he even got that far Greg was suddenly closer to him, one hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Before you say no," Greg said, his voice so low that Nick had to sway closer to hear it. Somehow without even meaning to his mouth found Greg's, and just like that they were kissing. Later he wouldn't be able to work out whether Greg had kissed him or he'd kissed Greg, but for now it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the softness of Greg's mouth against his, directly juxtaposed to the tangible energy that was as much a part of Greg as his genius. He felt a sob catch in his throat but he pushed it down brutally, unwilling to give in to all the emotions he'd been battling back since he walked onto the crime scene twenty-four hours ago.

When Greg finally pulled away again Nick was gasping for air, his brain addled from a million different thoughts. He chose to ignore every single one of them, staring blankly at the other man as Greg grinned at him and pushed himself off the bar. "We can take my car," Greg said, nodding in the direction of the door. "You don't look like you're in such great shape for driving and I don't really think you want Grissom coming out here to scrape you off the pavement."

Nick tried to get his brain to work with him long enough to argue; he couldn't just leave his car out in the middle of nowhere, not when he had to be back at work tomorrow night. Greg was right about one thing, though; driving was beyond him right now. In fact, just walking to the door posed more of a challenge than he wanted to admit, and when they finally found themselves outside the club he stopped and breathed in as much fresh air as he could. When he was sure he could move without losing it he looked up again, his stomach clenching when he found Greg watching him. Now that his head was clear he knew he had to put a stop to this before it went any further; a kiss was one thing, but he couldn't sleep with somebody he worked with. No matter how good the kiss was.

Evidently Greg could tell what he was thinking, though, because before Nick could say any of it out loud the other man took a few steps forward and closed his hand around the front of Nick's shirt. When he leaned forward Nick turned instinctively to meet him, but instead of kissing him again Greg opened his mouth against Nick's neck and licked a hot stripe from his collarbone to his earlobe. Nick's whole body shuddered at the contact, and before he knew what he was doing his hands were on Greg, exploring all the sinewy muscle encased in cotton and leather.

He knew if they kept this up they'd never make it back to Greg's place, or even as far as his car, but Greg was way ahead of him on that score too. Just when Nick thought he couldn't stand anymore Greg straightened up, flashing the grin Nick knew so well and nodding in the direction of the parking lot. "Your chariot awaits."

Nick couldn't help grinning at that, but his heart was still pounding hard against his ribcage as Greg led him to a yellow Jeep Wrangler and unlocked the passenger door. He climbed in and leaned back against the worn leather upholstery, running his hand unconsciously along the seat. It was softer than the leather covering Greg's hips; Nick had touched him long enough to know that, but his fingers itched for more than just a few quick gropes in the parking lot. And he knew he was going to regret this as soon as it was over, but for now he didn't care about anything except the fact that when Greg was kissing him he didn't have to think about his job or dead bodies or the secrets he kept so carefully hidden.

The drive to Greg's place took forever; it was over way too soon, because when they pulled into the parking lot Nick knew he was going to have to make a decision. All the way back from the desert he'd been trying to tell himself he wasn't going to go through with this, that he was going to tell Greg they were making a mistake and get him to drop Nick off at home. He'd take a cab out to Baker to get his truck if he had to; it didn't matter, as long as he didn't go through with what they'd started.

So he was surprised to find himself climbing out of the Jeep when Greg turned it off, and even more surprised when he found himself in Greg's living room with his coworker – his friend – pressed up against the door. And he could count the number of places where their bodies touched, calculate the temperature of Greg's breath against his neck, even describe the color of the other man's eyes. He was hyper-aware of every single detail of the person pressed up against him, from his red lips to the way his hands felt as they worked open the buttons of Nick's shirt.

When he felt his shirt sliding off his shoulders Nick knew it was too late to go back, no matter how many alarms were going off in his head. He ignored every one of them and lunged forward, catching Greg's mouth against his in a hard, desperate kiss. His fingers bunched the fabric of Greg's shirt at his waist, and he knew if he tugged any harder he'd tear right through the fabric. Even that was out of his control, though, because he couldn't let go even if Greg asked him to. He wasn't sure he could ever stop kissing Greg either, because as soon as they stopped it meant he had to think about what he'd done.

But Greg seemed determined not to let him think; in fact, he seemed hell-bent on keeping Nick as distracted as possible, starting with the way his tongue was mapping Nick's mouth and ending with the way his hips were moving against Nick's. He was doing this hypnotic little rotation, grinding against Nick's groin until he was moaning against Greg's mouth. And suddenly he was aware of how many clothes they were still wearing and how embarrassingly close this was to being finished before it even started, something that he couldn't let happen. There was no way he was going to have bad sex with Greg Sanders, not after everything he'd risked to be here tonight.

He pulled himself together with some effort, tearing his mouth away from Greg's to pant against his neck. When he was sure he wasn't going to come on the first touch he took a step backwards, loosening his grip on the other man's shirt just enough to ease it over his head. Greg lifted his arms obediently, gracing Nick with a smile that did things to his stomach he was not going to think about. Instead he turned his attention to Greg's leather pants, pausing to run his hands over the slick material before he reached for the zippers that ran along either side of Greg's crotch.

Leather pants weren't exactly his style, but with a little direction from Greg he found the hidden closure and got them open, letting out a hissed breath through his teeth as he slid the impossibly tight fabric over slender hips. And he didn't think watching Greg shimmy out of his own clothes could possibly be sexy, but even Greg's unbridled energy turned him on. He wasn't even sure when the other man managed to get his boots off, but the next thing he knew Greg was standing in front of him completely naked.

Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice told him that they should really take this to the bedroom, or at the very least somewhere that wasn't up against Greg's front door. He'd declared a moratorium on listening to the voices in his head earlier that night, though, so instead of asking Greg where the bedroom was he dropped to his knees in front of the other man. This was something he could understand; heat and skin and fingers digging into his shoulders, breathy moans and Greg's voice saying his name over and over again. And he wasn't used to hearing his own name while he was going down on another guy, but he had to admit that a small part of him sort of enjoyed it.

He took his time learning the weight of Greg against his tongue, seeking out all the spots that made him clasp Nick's shoulders just a little harder in an effort to keep his legs from giving out on him. It was just like seeking evidence at a crime scene; he catalogued every sound that Greg made, memorizing the most sensitive spots for future reference and keeping track of how close he could bring the other man to the edge before he backed off completely. It was a game, and the object was to torture Greg until he was begging for Nick to let him come. And then there it was, the breathy, barely coherent pleasegoddon'tstop that let Nick know that Greg had finally, finally had enough.

He swallowed once, twice around Greg's length, his fingers digging into Greg's hips hard enough to bruise when the other man arched off the doorway and came with a full body shudder.

Slowly Nick stood up, his own cock straining against his jeans as he took in the sight of Greg Sanders spent and panting against his own front door. He didn't want to be even more turned on by that sight, but he couldn't deny that part of him was glad it was Greg he'd run into tonight. There was the obvious fact that he'd always found Greg attractive, yes, but tonight it was about more than just attraction. Tonight he didn't want to have time to think, and Greg's energy was exactly what he needed to keep his mind off any unsettling thoughts for as long as it took to work them out of his system.

As soon as Greg opened his eyes Nick raised one eyebrow, but evidently Greg understood the question without having to hear it. "Down the hall. First door on the left," Greg murmured as he took a step forward, pushing Nick's hands out of the way so he could tug open his jeans and start working them down his hips. Together they managed somehow to wrestle Nick's jeans and boxers off without falling over, and as soon as Nick stepped out of them he was being hauled forward for another hard kiss. Nick parted his lips, letting Greg taste himself on his tongue as they backed toward what he assumed was the bedroom.

He found out he was right when his calves collided with Greg's mattress, and he stopped and tore his mouth away from the other man's to ask him another silent question. For a second Greg looked like he was considering his answer, then he looked Nick up and down again and let go of him long enough to dig in his nightstand for a tube of lube. Nick took the condom Greg held out to him, his brain clouding over again as he watched his friend stretch out on the mattress next to him. He didn't want to hear the sound of his own voice right now, but he wasn't far enough gone to risk hurting Greg, either, so he ran a hand down the other man's back and leaned close enough to whisper in his ear. "How do you want to do this?"

"Just do it," Greg answered, twisting his head far enough to plant another hard kiss on Nick's mouth. "However you want. I can take it."

Nick wasn't altogether sure Greg knew what he was getting himself into, but he was still in control enough to keep himself from hurting the other man. He took his time rolling the condom on and running a lube-slicked hand over the latex, squeezing the base of his cock until the worst of the need ebbed away. When he was sure he wasn't going to come on the first stroke he knelt between Greg's legs and grasped his hips, pulling him up onto his knees. And this was a sight he never let himself imagine he'd actually experience, but he couldn't say he was sorry. Greg was everything Nick had ever thought he'd be, at least the few times when he'd let his imagination run away with him.

Even like this Greg's energy threatened to carry him away, from the pulsing heat when Nick first slid inside him to the enthusiasm with which he met every stroke. By the time Nick lost control he knew he'd left two perfect hand-shaped bruises on Greg's hips, but he even liked the idea of leaving a mark on all that pale, perfect skin. When he did this with strangers he was always careful not to leave any visible evidence; maybe that was the CSI in him, or maybe it was just that he didn't even want the reminder to exist in his memory. Tonight he wanted that, though – wanted it enough to be a little scared of the thought, but it was too late to take it back now.

And even with Nick's death grip on his hips Greg was twisting and thrusting back against him, trying to get just a little more, a little deeper than Nick even knew was possible. Way too soon he was tensing against the other man, coming with a soundless cry and a shudder that wracked both their bodies.

For a full thirty seconds Nick felt more amazing than he ever had in his life – he pulled out of Greg and collapsed onto his back, eyes wide as he stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling and wondered if this was what people meant by 'mountaintop experiences'. And it wasn't so much that the sex was that special, but for those few brief moments his mind was completely and blessedly blank. He felt like he could do anything, like the slate had been wiped clean and he could get up from Greg's bed and remake his entire life if he wanted to.

Like all amazing feelings it didn't last, though, and as soon as he remembered where he was and what he'd just done reality came crashing back down on him. His lungs felt tight and his throat closed up, and he knew he was probably gasping like he'd just swallowed half the desert but he couldn't make himself stop. He wanted to get up and run far and fast away from what was probably going to turn out to be the biggest mistake of his life, but he knew running wouldn't do him any good. Besides, his car was still somewhere in Baker, and he wasn't going to get far without it.

"Hey." Oddly enough, the sound of Greg's voice calmed Nick enough to quell the panic that had begun to rise in his throat. He glanced over at the other man to find Greg propped up on one elbow, watching him with a rare serious expression. "You know, if you wanna talk about whatever's got you so worked up, I can be a pretty good listener."

Nick must have looked skeptical, because Greg laughed and rolled his eyes. "Forget what you've seen of me at work. That place can make anybody crazy. Sometimes you gotta break up the tension, you know? But if you wanna talk…"

"Forget it," Nick said, surprised to hear that his voice sounded almost normal. "Just a rough shift, that's all."

Greg nodded but didn't answer, and for once Nick was grateful for the silence. He knew he should get up and get dressed, insist that Greg drive him back to his car so he could go home and get a few hours' sleep before his next shift, but the thought of getting out of bed even to dispose of the condom was too much. As soon as he thought it he felt Greg's hand on his stomach, and he couldn't help wondering if the other man was some kind of mind reader when Greg carefully rolled the condom off and stood up. He listened to the sound of Greg's footsteps as they disappeared out of the room, telling himself that he'd thank him when he got back, but by the time Greg washed up and found his way back to the bed Nick was already asleep.

Part Two