FANFIC: All The Way To Paris by Caroline Crane 2/4
Posted with permission from the author. See notes in sidebar.
Title: All the Way to Paris by Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: This is an AU that starts at the end of season three and then breaks off from canon. If you've read "Four Things That Never Happened to Greg Sanders" the beginning will seem familiar -- it starts with one of the four AU storylines from that fic and then explores what could have happened if the show had ever dealt with the lasting effects of Greg's injuries.
Chapters:<part 01 part 02 part 03 part 04
An additon to this universe - August 2008: Yesterday's Notions
Part Two
Greg wasn't surprised when they called to offer him the UCLA job. He could do the job in his sleep, and they were probably just grateful they wouldn't have to train him to use the equipment. What did surprise him was the twinge of regret he felt when they made the offer, and the brief, irrational urge to turn it down. He took the job anyway, but after three days as UCLA's newest lab tech he still wasn't sure he'd made the right choice.
It wasn't that he didn't like the job; it wasn't all that exciting, but it was easy enough and at least he was working days. Working on a college campus was a lot more relaxed than working in the crime lab, and he didn't miss having five different people throwing samples at him at once. He didn't miss getting chewed out by the CSIs when their stuff didn't automatically get shifted to the top of the pile, and he definitely didn't miss their habit of taking out the hard cases on the lab staff.
Sometimes he missed the pace a little, though, and when he found himself sitting in L.A. traffic he sort of missed the night shift. And there was probably something wrong with that, but he tried not to think too hard about it. At least his tremor hadn't been a problem so far, and he had a feeling it had a lot to do with the slow, steady pace of working in a university lab. So this job was really the best thing for him, but no matter how many times he told himself that he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd made the wrong decision.
It was all Nick's fault. He kept calling, asking about Greg's life and talking about Vegas, reminding Greg of all the things he was missing. Greg knew he was doing it on purpose, and it was as annoying as it was flattering. He didn't want to be flattered by the attention – he didn't want to hang on Nick's every word and look forward to the next time he called. There was no future in whatever they were doing, because he wasn't moving back to Vegas and eventually Nick would figure that out and give up.
This would all be a lot easier if he didn't like Nick so much. That was the problem, because Greg had been waiting years for Nick to finally look around long enough to realize they were perfect for each other, and now that Nick finally had they couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't even sure he wanted to now, because for all he knew Nick was only interested because he thought Greg needed him. The last thing he wanted to be was one of Nick's charity cases, like that dead hooker whose funeral Nick had actually paid for.
He wondered if Nick would have done the same for him if he'd died in the explosion, if he would have felt so guilty that he hadn't been able to save Greg that he would have tried to make up for it after Greg was dead. Then again, they'd never slept together, so maybe that was where Nick drew the line.
One thing he knew for sure – his new job definitely gave him too much time to think, especially when he found himself planning his own funeral and wondering who would show up. He wondered if Nick would make the trip all the way to California for the service, if he could really make himself feel that guilty over something that had nothing to do with him. Or maybe Nick didn't feel guilty at all; maybe he really was just so blind that it had taken Greg leaving for Nick to realize he kind of liked having Greg around, and this was his twisted way of making up for lost time.
They'd talked a few more times since Greg asked Nick if he was planning to keep calling, mostly about Greg's plans and what was going on back at the lab. It was weird to hear about life in Vegas going on without him, but he'd known it was going to and it got a little easier to hear about it every time. So in a way he was sort of grateful that Nick had been so insistent about keeping in touch – he just wished the sound of Nick's voice didn't make him think about things that were never going to happen.
It was bad enough living under his parents' roof again; his sex life hadn't exactly been on his mind when he moved back in, but now that Nick was calling every few days just to check in Greg found his thoughts straying more and more. He'd even caught himself thinking about it at work a few times, and the worst part was that there really wasn't anything he could do about it. It wasn't like he had any prospects, and he definitely wasn't going to ask his friends to set him up.
To make matters worse, Nick had one of those voices that sounded even better over the phone than it did in person. Way too many times Greg had caught himself closing his eyes while they were on the phone, pretending Nick was right next to him and whispering in his ear. It was bad enough when they were just talking about work; if they ever graduated to anything more than thinly veiled flirting Greg would have to move out and make his parents swear they wouldn't give Nick his new number.
Not that moving out was such a bad idea. He loved his parents, but he had a job now and it would be a lot easier to commute to work if he wasn't driving in from the suburbs. He let out a heavy sigh as he let himself into the house, dropping his keys on the counter and thumbing through the mail on his way through the kitchen. The door that led to the living room swung open as he dropped the mail back on the counter, and he glanced up just in time to watch his mother walk in.
"Oh, you're home," she said as he pulled the refrigerator open and reached for a soda. "You just missed your friend Nick."
He stopped just short of rolling his eyes; they'd been doing this for about a week now, and he could tell she was just dying to ask who Nick was. She was probably telling herself he was an adult and she shouldn't pry, but it was obvious that it was killing her. He knew he should just tell her and get it over with, but every time he tried to come up with the right words he found himself at a total loss.
"He…uh…he didn't leave his number, did he?"
For a second she just frowned at him, and he could tell what she was thinking before she said anything. Nick had called at least six times since he'd been home, and even though she didn't know about every call she knew Greg had talked to him. She'd handed him the phone herself when Nick called to ask him about his new job, so he knew she was wondering why Greg didn't have his number.
"No, honey, I'm sorry."
"It's complicated," he said in answer to the question she hadn't asked. "He's just somebody I worked with in Vegas."
For a second she looked a little surprised, but as soon as the emotion surfaced she forced it back down. Her smile was a little forced, but he told himself it didn't mean anything. "I'm glad you're staying in touch with your friends. Should I ask him for his number when he calls back?"
When, not if, and Greg knew it shouldn't surprise him that she could see right through him. "That's all right, I can find it." He pushed the kitchen door open and then paused, glancing back over his shoulder at his mother. "Listen, Mom, he's just a friend."
"Whatever you say, sweetheart," she answered, smiling a little more genuinely this time. He could tell she didn't believe him, but he didn't bother trying to argue with her.
He grabbed the cordless phone from the living room and ran up the stairs, dialing the number for the crime lab from memory. When the line connected and a feminine voice said 'Clark County Crime Lab' Greg frowned; he'd been gone less than two months, and already they'd replaced him and gotten a new receptionist.
"Hi," he said, swallowing a sudden, unexplainable rush of nerves. "Is Nick Stokes in?"
"He's off tonight," the girl on the other end of the line said, "can I take a message?"
"You wouldn't happen to have his cell phone number handy, would you?"
"I'm sorry, sir, I'm not allowed to give that out." He'd known she was going to say that; he knew lab policy probably better than she did, and he knew handing out cell phone numbers to just anybody was strictly against the rules. If Nick was working Greg would just page him – that number he knew by heart, but he'd never called Nick's cell phone before.
He knew he should just hang up and let Nick call him back. It would be better if he did, because then Nick wouldn't start thinking that Greg looked forward to talking to him. Only he couldn't be sure that Nick would call back tonight, and there was a pathetic, masochistic part of him that wanted to hear Nick's voice. He could ask to talk to Grissom and see if he had Nick's number, but then he'd have to explain why he wanted it, and he had no idea how Nick would feel about that.
"Listen," he tried again, "we probably never got a chance to meet. You're new, right?"
"Actually, I'm just temping," the girl answered, but her voice was still a little frosty and Greg knew she wasn't falling for it. She hadn't hung up yet, though, and that meant he still had a shot.
"Maybe you've heard of me, I used to work the night shift. My name's Greg Sanders."
There was a brief pause, then she cleared her throat and he heard the sound of something rustling on the other end of the line. "Can you hold for a minute?"
"Sure," he answered, frowning when he heard the line click and someone's idea of music begin to play. Too late he realized that she might have called Grissom to ask if she was allowed to give him Nick's number, and he thought about hanging up. But if she had called Grissom it was already too late to stop her, and that would still leave him without Nick's phone number. He was almost ready to hang up anyway when she finally came back on the line, and if Greg didn't know better he would have sworn she sounded amused.
"Would you like his home number as well?"
"Okay," Greg said, reaching for a pen as she read him Nick's cell number. He had a sinking feeling she had gone to Grissom; giving out home numbers was strictly against the rules, and there was no way a temp was going to break that rule without going straight to the boss. He wrote down the second number and thanked her, and when she giggled he knew he was missing something, only he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know what it was.
~
Nick made himself wait until the second ring before he picked up the phone. He knew who it was before he answered, but that didn't stop his heart from beating just a little faster when he finally reached for the receiver. "Stokes."
"That's how you answer your phone?"
He grinned at the sound of Greg's voice; it had only been a couple days since the last time they spoke, but the more he talked to Greg the harder it was to stop himself from calling every day. And he knew this thing between them was going to cost him a fortune in long distance charges, but he couldn't even make himself care.
"What's wrong with the way I answer the phone?" he asked, leaning back in his chair and picturing Greg on the other end of the line.
"Nothing, if you want to be Grissom when you grow up. I bet that's how he answers his phone at home too."
Nick rolled his eyes at the insult, but he didn't bother trying to suppress his grin. It was the first time Greg had ever called him; he knew that meant something, so he didn't care how much Greg made fun of him. "What do you say we don't talk about Grissom?"
He expected Greg to make a joke about why Nick didn't want to talk about Grissom, but instead of a sarcastic remark there was a long pause before Greg cleared his throat. "Yeah, no problem," Greg said, hesitating a second before he continued. "Only you should probably know that I didn't have your phone number."
As soon as he said it Nick realized what he was getting at, but listening to Greg stammer his way through an explanation was kind of cute and he didn't want to stop him. "What are you talking about?"
"I never wrote down your number that first time you called," Greg admitted, and Nick could just picture his sheepish expression. "So I called the lab and I got some temp. I think she asked Grissom if it was okay to give me your number."
"She didn't ask Grissom."
"She must have, she…wait. How would you know?"
"Because she called me about two minutes before you did and asked if she should give you my number."
More silence on the other end of the line, and Nick was starting to think maybe he'd said too much. He could have let Greg believe the new receptionist had gone to Grissom; it wouldn't have made a real difference, especially considering Grissom already knew there was something going on between them. "Look, G…"
"Is that why she laughed at me?"
"She laughed?" That could only mean one thing – by the time Nick showed up for work tomorrow the entire lab would be talking about the fact that Greg had called looking for him. He wasn't sure when his life turned into a soap opera, but he was starting to wish his coworkers would find something else to talk about.
"She seemed like she knew who I was."
And okay, now he just sounded suspicious. Nick knew Greg wasn't stupid, and he knew the other man wouldn't fall for whatever lame excuse Nick came up with. He couldn't tell Greg the entire night shift thought they were involved, though, not if he actually wanted it to be true at some point. "She might have heard me mention you."
"So you talk about me?"
Nick grinned at that, because at least Greg hadn't hung up on him. In fact, he sounded almost flattered by the idea that Nick talked about him with people he didn't know. He couldn't remember if he'd ever actually mentioned Greg in front of the new girl, but whether she'd heard about Greg from him or from somebody else on the night shift didn't really matter. "Your name might have come up once or twice."
"Oh." And he wished he could see Greg's expression, because it was hard to tell over the phone if the smile in the other man's voice was happiness or embarrassment.
So far all they'd really talked about was work and Greg's plans for the immediate future; they hadn't broached the topic of what exactly they were doing, and lately Nick had been wondering if that was something they could even talk about over the phone. It was way too hard to tell what Greg was thinking when all Nick had to go by was his voice. "Listen, G, I've been thinking. I'd like to see you."
"What, you want me to send you some pictures?" Greg laughed, but it sounded a little shaky and Nick could tell Greg knew what he meant. "Usually I charge for that."
"Yeah? How much are we talking?" He stood up as he spoke, one hand holding the cordless phone against his ear as he made his way over to his computer. Once he'd pulled up his web browser he balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder long enough to type in the URL for a travel agent.
"Depends what you're looking for," Greg answered, and Nick could almost picture the other man relaxing as Nick let him change the subject. "I might be able to get you the professional discount."
Nick laughed, his cheeks flushing when Greg's voice dropped an octave. "I have a feeling you're worth full price."
He waited until the page loaded, then he typed in 'Los Angeles' and 'Las Vegas' and glanced at the calendar on his desk before he put in dates. When he was finished he clicked the 'send' button and waited while the computer looked for the information he'd requested.
"Oh, I am," Greg answered, his voice low and more flirtatious than Nick had heard since before the explosion. "Charm, good looks, brains…I'm the total package."
"Modest, too," Nick said, grinning at the dismissive noise on the other end of the line. "I'm serious, you know. You could come back just to visit. Flights aren't bad right now, and there are a lot of people who were disappointed that you didn't give anybody a chance to say goodbye."
He knew it was a low blow; he knew exactly why Greg left the way he did, but that didn't make it hurt any less. The only reason Nick had gotten a chance to say goodbye was because he'd been in the right place at the right time, and if he'd had a few days' notice…well, things might have been a lot different. But no matter how Greg had left, Nick wanted to see him again, to look at him and touch him and know one way or the other if there was anything between them.
"I just started a new job, I can't ask for time off to go on vacation."
And he'd expected that kind of response, but it was worth a try. "It was just an idea. Hey, before I forget, you left some CDs and stuff in the lab. Give me your address and I'll get them back to you."
"I got all my stuff out of the lab," Greg answered, some of his earlier suspicion creeping back into his voice. "Must be somebody else's."
"I don't know anybody else on the night shift who listens to Marilyn Manson," Nick said, glancing at the small stack of CDs that had been sitting on his desk for the past few days. "They must be yours."
He could picture Greg frowning on the other end of the line, and for once he was almost sorry the other man was so smart. And it really was a shame he'd left Vegas, because he probably would have been a hell of an investigator. Nick held his breath while he waited for an answer, half expecting Greg to start asking questions he didn't have the answers for.
"Guess I missed some stuff," Greg finally said, and Nick swallowed a relieved sigh and reached for a pen to write down the address Greg recited. He read it back just to make sure he'd gotten it right, then he set the pen down and stood up again.
"So I'll get that stuff back to you as soon as I can. And about that visit…just think about it, okay?"
"Look, Nick…"
"Just think about it," Nick said again, cutting off whatever excuse Greg had been about to make. "I'll talk to you soon." He waited for Greg to say goodbye before he hung up, then he set the phone back in its cradle and headed back to his computer.
~
The last thing Nick had said to him was 'I'll talk to you soon'; he remembered because at the time he wondered exactly how soon Nick meant, exactly how much time he had to come up with a believable reason why he couldn't go back to Vegas just to visit. Obviously 'soon' didn't mean the same thing to Nick that it did to Greg, though, because it had been almost a week since they last spoke, and he was starting to think maybe Nick had decided this thing between them wasn't worth it after all.
Maybe he'd come to his senses and realized there wasn't anything between them, that Nick was just holding on to what could barely even be described as a friendship out of some weird sense of loyalty. Or maybe he'd just gotten busy with a really tough case and just when Greg finally gave up on him Nick would call again, all apologies and easy charm, and Greg would fall for it all over again. Of course he could call Nick himself and find out what was going on. He could just call and tell Nick that he'd been thinking about it and it was better that they didn't talk anymore, that it would be easier for both of them if they just forgot about each other.
He'd picked up the phone at least a dozen times in the past few days to do exactly that, but every time he did he found another reason to put it off. Leaving a message on Nick's machine would be the easiest way to handle it, but he knew Nick would just call him back and argue about it until he couldn't remember his very good reasons for ending things before they really got started. And he knew Nick wanted to start something – any doubt he had left was erased when Nick said 'I'd like to see you'. Then there was the fact that Nick had been talking about him at work; granted, it was probably along the lines of '…when Greg worked here', but something about the way Nick had avoided the subject made Greg wonder.
Those kinds of thoughts just made it harder for him to put an end to whatever they were doing, though, so he shook his head and glanced at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The problem with the steady pace of a university lab was that sometimes things got a little too quiet, and the past few hours felt as though they'd already lasted for days. Finally he decided it was close enough to quitting time to call it a day, and he shrugged out of his lab coat and hung it on the rack near the door. He fished his keys out of a drawer and waved to the other tech on duty, then he pushed the lab door open and headed for the stairs.
He let himself out of the building and took the stairs two at a time, but when he heard someone calling his name he stopped short and turned back. A grin lit up his features as he watched Steve jog up the sidewalk toward him, his chest rising and falling heavily when he finally caught up with Greg. "You've been spending too much time in your office, man," Greg said, laughing at the look Steve shot him. "You know, they've got a gym right on campus."
"Thanks for the tip," Steve shot back when he caught his breath, falling into step next to Greg. "Listen, I was hoping to catch you before you left. I've got a last-minute date…"
"Let me guess, you need some fashion tips," Greg said. "You're not wearing that shirt, are you?"
"Hilarious, as usual," Steve answered, rolling his eyes when Greg grinned. "No, see, the thing is, I've been after this girl to go out with me forever, but she's got a friend and she wants me to bring somebody along. I think she's nervous about the whole one-on-one thing."
"So she's been talking to your ex-girlfriends?"
"Come on, man, I'm serious. You'd be doing me a huge favor," Steve pleaded, and Greg swallowed a sigh as he stopped in the center of the sidewalk to look at the other man. "You're the only guy I know who's not attached. It's just one night, and you might even like her."
Greg's hand tightened around his keys when they began to shake a little, and he prayed Steve wouldn't hear the tell-tale rattle of metal against metal. He'd known where this conversation was going as soon as Steve mentioned his date, but the last thing he wanted to do was suffer through a painful blind date with some girl he'd never see again. "I can't. I'm…sort of seeing somebody."
He didn't know what made him say it; it wasn't a complete lie, but it was close enough to one to make him feel guilty. The truth was that he didn't owe Nick anything – he could go out with whoever he wanted, and for all he knew Nick was doing the same. Only he had a feeling Nick wasn't seeing anyone, and that thought was enough to make his hands shake even harder.
For a second Steve just looked at him, and Greg knew his friend was trying to decide whether or not he was lying. "Since when?"
"It's complicated," Greg answered, and that, at least, wasn't a lie.
"Anybody I know?"
Greg shook his head and started walking again, his hands clenched so tight he knew he'd have impressions in his palm from his keys. "He's somebody I knew in Vegas."
"You never told me you were seeing a guy in Vegas," Steve said, and now he just sounded betrayed. Greg had to stop himself from rolling his eyes; he felt bad enough about the sort-of lie, but now he was going to spend the rest of the day feeling guilty for not just giving in and doing a favor for a friend.
"Like I said, it's complicated." He stopped when they reached the lot where he parked, turning to face the other man. "Look, I'd help you out if I could."
"Yeah, sure, no problem," Steve answered, and Greg swallowed against an even sharper stab of guilt when his friend just let him off the hook without question. "Long distance, though…you must really like this one."
Greg shrugged and glanced longingly at his car, wishing he'd left work ten minutes earlier. It wouldn't have made a difference to anybody in the lab, and at least it would have spared him from this conversation. Part of him almost wished he could bring himself to forget Nick long enough to go out with Steve and have a good time; if nothing else it would be a distraction, and if he wasn't hanging around at home he wouldn't be tempted to call Nick. But every time he imagined telling Nick he'd been out on a date he felt like he'd been punched in the stomach, and he knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it.
"I better go if I want to get ahead of the traffic," he finally said, turning back to Steve long enough to flash what he hoped was a convincing grin. "We should have lunch if you can tear yourself away from the coeds. You can tell me all about your date."
Steve laughed and took a few steps backwards, calling out a threat about filling him in on all the details before he turned and headed in the other direction. Once he was gone Greg let out a deep breath and headed for his car, his hands still shaking slightly as he fumbled with the lock. When he finally got the door open he slid into the driver's seat and slid the keys into the ignition, gripping the steering wheel hard until his hands were steady enough to drive.
By the time he actually made it home the tremor had subsided almost completely, but when he walked into the house his fingers started trembling all over again. His mother was standing at the stove, so engrossed in the story she was telling that she didn't even look up when he walked in. The person she was talking to was sitting at the kitchen table, sprawled so casually in one of his parents' kitchen chairs that he looked like he belonged there. As soon as he saw Greg he unfolded himself from the chair and stood up, and when his mother realized she'd lost her audience she finally stopped talking and looked over at Greg.
"Oh, there you are. I was starting to think you weren't coming home after all. I tried to call when Nick got here, but they said you'd already left."
Greg opened his mouth to say something like 'what the hell are you doing here' or maybe to ask his mother what she thought she was doing letting strangers in, but the words got stuck behind the lump in his throat. He didn't notice how hard his hands were shaking until the keys slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud, and when he realized they were both still staring at him he almost wished it had been him hitting the floor instead of the keys.
~
Nick was halfway across the kitchen before he realized what he was doing, but as soon as he did he stopped himself. It was harder than he expected to keep himself from reaching down to pick up the keys Greg had dropped; it seemed like such a natural thing to do, but something about the look on Greg's face made him stop short. Instead he watched helplessly as Mrs. Sanders put a hand on Greg's shoulder, gently but insistently urging him toward the door.
"You boys go in the living room and catch up," she said, glancing at Nick long enough to smile reassuringly before she turned back to Greg.
He paused long enough to pick up the small stack of CDs he'd left on the kitchen table, then he followed Greg into the living room. When the door swung shut behind them Nick heard the clink of metal as Greg's mother picked up his keys, and he saw the flinch Greg tried to hide. His hands were curled into tight fists at his side, and all Nick wanted to do was reach out and ease his fingers out of their death grip. But Greg still hadn't said a word – he hadn't even looked at Nick since they left the kitchen – and Nick had a feeling touching him right now would be disastrous.
It wasn't the first time he'd wondered if this was a bad idea. The look Grissom had given him when he'd asked for time off on short notice was enough to make him doubt his decision, but that wasn't half as awkward as fielding questions from everyone on the night shift about where he was going. Mostly he'd just smiled and changed the subject; he didn't want to lie outright, but it wasn't anybody's business where he was going. Not that any of them needed him to tell them anything – they'd all guessed exactly where he was going as soon as word got around that he'd put in for leave.
Not even a week of innuendos and weird looks from his coworkers had been as nerve-wracking as the past few minutes, though, and if Greg didn't say something soon Nick was going to do something drastic. He followed Greg up a flight of stairs and down a hall, stopping when they reached what he assumed was Greg's room. There were boxes stacked along one wall, and a single bed under the only window in the room. At first glance it looked like Greg's parents hadn't changed a thing since Greg first moved out, but Nick was too busy watching Greg to worry much about the décor.
"What are you doing here?"
"I told you, you left these behind," Nick answered, but the excuse sounded stupid even to him now that he was actually standing in front of the other man. He held up the stack of CDs, but when Greg didn't move or even relax his death grip on his fingers Nick swallowed a sigh and set the CDs down on the corner of the dresser. "And I knew you weren't going to come back to Vegas."
"So you just show up without even calling? How'd you get my mom to let you in?"
He shrugged at that, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I told her who I was and she let me in. She seemed happy to see me."
"Yeah, well, she's never had very discriminating taste."
Nick grinned even more brightly at the insult, because at least if Greg was making jokes it meant he wasn't that upset that Nick had showed up unannounced. And okay, maybe it was a shock to find Nick in his kitchen when he got home from work, but once he got over that Nick knew he'd want to talk. At least he hoped Greg wanted to talk; there was always the chance that Nick had been reading his signals totally wrong, but if he was then Greg had been sending out some pretty weird signals for a long time now.
"She's crazy about you, she's been talking about you non-stop since I got here."
For a second Greg looked down, and if Nick didn't know better he might have thought the other man was blushing. He hadn't realized when he got on the plane that afternoon how hard it was going to be to keep his hands to himself once he was in the same room with Greg again, especially when he found himself in Greg's bedroom. Only they weren't really alone, because Greg's mom was right downstairs, and suddenly Nick felt like a teenager worried about getting busted by his parents.
He wasn't sure what to make of the fact that Greg was still staying with his folks; part of him wanted to believe that it meant Greg wasn't putting down roots, that maybe there was a chance he wasn't in California to stay. But Greg had a job now, and Nick didn't want to get his hopes up about something that might not happen.
"So you came all the way out here to bring me some CDs," Greg said, taking a few steps toward the dresser. When he was close enough to touch Nick caught his breath and held it, fighting the urge to reach out as he watched Greg tilt his head to read the titles of the CDs. "Where'd you find these?"
"Melted inside a drawer," Nick admitted, smiling self-consciously when Greg glanced up at him. "I figured the lab replaced everything else, these should be replaced too."
"You got Grissom to approve that?" For a second Greg forgot about his tremor and reached out to pick up one of the CDs, but as soon as he caught sight of his shaking fingers he pulled his hand back again. Nick's heart sank when he realized Greg was embarrassed, but he knew anything he said would just make it worse.
"Not exactly." Nick's shoulders fell as he let out a defeated sigh, his smile turning sheepish. "Maybe it was a dumb excuse, but I wanted to see you. I miss you."
It was the first time he'd actually said the words, and when Greg looked up sharply he wished he could take them back. Neither of them had ever said anything about what they were doing; the whole point of this trip was to figure that out, but suddenly he wasn't so sure Greg was ready for that. He'd been through a lot of changes in the past few months, changes that would be hard enough for most people to deal with. For someone like Greg it had to be even harder to adjust to limitations he'd never dealt with before, and Nick was only starting to realize what those limitations were.
"Look, G…"
"So how long are you staying?" Greg interrupted, and Nick found himself almost grateful. He'd had no idea what he was going to say, and he'd already put his foot in his mouth more than once since Greg got home.
"My flight's on Sunday morning. I tried to get Sunday night off too but Gris didn't go for it. Listen, if this is bad timing…"
"No," Greg said a little too quickly, and this time Nick was sure he was blushing. It was the first sign he'd gotten that this wasn't a huge mistake, and before he even realized what he was doing he was moving forward. When Greg didn't move away Nick took a chance and reached up, resting one hand on Greg's shoulder right at the juncture of his neck. They'd been this close a hundred times before in the lab, and Nick had never really thought that much about it. He'd never let himself think about it, anyway, and now that it was all he could think about he could have kicked himself for wasting so much time.
He knew he should say something else; he'd worked out a whole speech on the plane, but now that Greg was standing right in front of him he couldn't remember any of the words that had seemed so important a few hours ago. All he could think about were the muscles twitching under his fingers and the warmth radiating off Greg through his clothes. He wanted to feel more of that, to slide his hands under Greg's shirt and touch his skin. He wanted Greg to touch him too, but his hands were still clenched at his sides and Nick knew it was because he was trying not to tremble.
He wasn't sure which of them moved first, but suddenly Greg was even closer and when Nick breathed in he caught the familiar scent of cologne mingled with chemicals. It was comforting, in a strange way, and distracting enough that he didn't hear Greg's mother calling for them until after Greg tensed and pulled back. He wanted to ignore the interruption, to reach out and haul Greg forward by the front of his shirt just so he could breathe in that scent again, but before he got the chance Greg pulled out of his grip and took a few steps toward the door.
"Are you staying for dinner?"
"Your mom asked me to." Less than a second ago he could have sworn Greg wanted Nick to kiss him, but just like that all the awkwardness was back and suddenly Nick felt guilty for accepting the dinner invitation without waiting to find out if it was okay with Greg. "But if that's not cool I can head back to the hotel and give you a call in the morning."
Greg was shaking his head before Nick even finished. The force of Nick's relief took him by surprise, and he didn't bother fighting the grin that lit up his features. "She'll never let you out of here without feeding you first."
When Greg smiled Nick's stomach did a little flip, and he was glad he hadn't eaten anything yet. He hadn't planned for dinner with Greg's parents on his first visit, but as long as Greg wasn't kicking him out he wasn't going to complain.
~
"Your folks are great," Nick said as he climbed into the passenger seat of Greg's car.
Greg wasn't surprised at how well Nick got along with his parents; he was the kind of guy who could put anyone at ease, and his parents had always liked all Greg's friends. So it didn't really bother him that Nick had spent the past two hours charming both his parents, it was just kind of…weird. The fact that Nick was actually in his parents' house was weird, and the fact that he looked so comfortable there was even weirder.
Nick had managed to steer the conversation away from what he did for a living as much as possible, and Greg knew that was for his benefit. He wasn't sure whether to be grateful or annoyed that Nick didn't think he could handle hearing about the crime lab, but he had to admit that it was sort of nice that Nick thought of it. It made for an enlightening dinner, anyway, and Greg had learned all sorts of things about Nick's family and life in Texas that he'd never heard before.
He knew he was supposed to say something about how much his parents had liked Nick, maybe make a joke about how they seemed to like him more than they liked Greg. There were things he was supposed to say, things he'd said before to other people he'd brought home to meet his parents. Only he hadn't brought Nick home, not really, and he was still trying to figure out what exactly Nick expected from him.
"Well, they are my parents," he said, forcing a smile as he started the car and pointed it toward the hotel where Nick was staying. And he could have killed his mother when she'd asked Nick to stay with them, but Nick had even had an answer for that, almost as though he'd thought about it before he showed up on Greg's doorstep. Maybe he had; he was trained to view situations from every possible angle, after all, and Greg was pretty sure the last thing Nick wanted to do was spend the night in the guest room right next to Nick's parents.
Checking into his hotel before he caught a cab to Greg's house was smart. Even smarter was the cab itself, because it meant he either had to call a cab to pick him up, or Greg had to give him a lift back to the hotel. There was no way his mother was going to let Nick take a cab after he'd just spent the entire evening charming her, and he had a feeling Nick had been betting on that.
Greg wasn't stupid. He knew where this was headed, and there was a part of him that really wanted to stop thinking and just go with it. But there was another part of him that knew Nick was going to want to talk eventually, and he wasn't sure he was ready for that. While they were just flirting over the phone every few days there was no reason to put a label on anything, but as soon as they made it real there was no turning back. He couldn't tell himself they were just friends anymore, and he couldn't tell himself that it was just a little harmless flirting.
It was bad enough when he found himself thinking about Nick's voice in the middle of the day, wondering when the other man would call again and thinking about all the things he could say to keep Nick on the phone. If they did this everything would change…everything except the fact that Nick was still going to get on a plane on Sunday and go back to Vegas and a life that didn't include Greg.
He'd talked himself into and back out of just telling Nick it wasn't going to work at least a dozen times by the time he finally pulled up in front of Nick's hotel, and when he pulled into a parking space and shut off the engine he turned to find the other man watching him. The drive hadn't been very long, but it was long enough that the silence between them felt heavy, and Greg knew Nick was waiting for him to say something. He was supposed to give some kind of signal, to let Nick know one way or the other if this was what he wanted.
The almost kiss in his bedroom should have been enough to let Nick know how he felt, and in a way Greg kind of wished they hadn't been interrupted, because then at least their first kiss would already be over. It would have been awkward and kind of weird considering they'd been standing in his parents' house at the time, but at least it would have been done and he would have spent the past couple hours thinking about the kiss instead of what had almost happened.
"Look," he said at the same moment that Nick said, "Greg," and when Nick laughed nervously Greg's stomach fluttered. For some reason it made him feel a little better to know Nick was nervous about this too, that he wasn't sure what was going to happen. If he'd gotten out of the car and started toward his room like he was expecting Greg to follow him and just start taking his clothes off it would have been a lot worse, and Greg flushed when he realized that was sort of what he'd been expecting. He knew Nick, though, knew what kind of guy he was, even if they'd never actually been in this situation before.
"Why'd it take you so long?" He didn't even know he'd been thinking the question until he heard himself say it, but once it was out there he didn't want to take it back.
Nick shrugged and granted him one of those sheepish smiles, the kind he usually reserved for getting himself out of trouble. "I guess I just figured there was plenty of time."
He thought about pointing out the three weeks after the explosion, those three weeks when Nick could have said something that might have made it easier for Greg to stay in Vegas even after he was fired. But Nick hadn't known Greg was going to get fired, and he hadn't known he was going to pack up and leave town as soon as he did. Maybe if Greg had said something…but it didn't matter now, because it was done and he couldn't undo it.
"I used to think you were totally clueless. It was kind of cute, the way you'd get so intense about your cases and make everything so personal, but you never really noticed what was going on around you. Like the way Sara panted after you when she first moved to Vegas. Maybe you were just too caught up in following Warrick around back then to notice."
"I noticed," Nick said. When Greg glanced over at him his palms were flat against his thighs, pressing hard as though he was trying not to touch anything he wasn't supposed to. The knowledge that Nick was trying not to touch him made his cock stir, and he had to struggle to focus on what Nick was saying. "I just wasn't interested. And I wasn't following Warrick around."
Greg laughed in spite of himself, some of the tension lifting as he caught Nick's embarrassed frown. "Right, so I imagined the way you used to try to one-up him all the time just to get his attention."
"I wasn't…we're always up for the same promotions," Nick said, letting out an exasperated sigh when Greg laughed again. "If I was trying to get anyone's attention it was Grissom's, and trust me, it didn't have anything to do with me wanting to sleep with him."
He laughed even harder at that, and when Nick grinned at him his heart skipped a beat. And maybe Nick wasn't going to own up to his crush on Warrick, but it didn't really matter now anyway. That was a long time ago, and now…now Nick wanted him, even if he'd figured it out too late. Greg's smile faded and he looked down at his hands where they still rested on the steering wheel, sending up a quick prayer of thanks that they were steady for the moment. "And now?"
"I still don't want to sleep with Grissom." Nick finally gave in to the urge to touch, one hand leaving his thigh to slide behind Greg's neck. It was warm and strong and familiar in a way that made Greg's chest ache, and he found himself leaning automatically into the fingers that stroked his skin just above his collar. "This isn't about Warrick or Grissom or Sara."
"That just leaves Catherine," he said, but when Nick winced he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. "Sorry."
Nick shook his head and pulled his hand away from Greg's neck, leaving his skin suddenly feeling cold. For a second panic gripped him as he pictured Nick telling him to forget it and getting out of the car, but instead the other man sighed and shifted in the passenger seat until he was facing Greg. "Listen, do you want to come in for awhile?"
This was the moment he'd been waiting for all night, the moment when he was supposed to say no and tell Nick it was too late. He wasn't supposed to nod and pull his keys out of the ignition, and he wasn't supposed to get out of the car and follow Nick into the hotel. He wasn't supposed to get on the elevator and watch as Nick pushed the button for his floor, his fingers starting to tremble a little when Nick glanced at him and smiled in that way that always, always made Greg's knees weak. By the time the elevator finally reached Nick's floor he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk down the hall to Nick's room, but a few seconds later he found himself being ushered into a nondescript hotel room, then Nick's hands were on his shoulders and he forgot all about what he wasn't supposed to be doing.
~
He was taking this slow. He was taking it slow because it was too important not to, but he was pretty sure the pace was going to kill him. Since the moment he watched Greg walk into the kitchen all he could think about was touching him, just to feel warm skin and a pulse and know that Greg was real and alive and standing in front of him.
He'd thought seeing Greg would be enough, but as soon as they were in the same room again he knew he'd been wrong. So far all he'd gotten was a stolen moment in Greg's bedroom and then a fleeting touch in his car, but once they were in Nick's room with no chance of an interruption he couldn't help himself. His hands found Greg's shoulders the second the door closed behind them, the warmth of Greg's body so overwhelming that Nick had to close his eyes for a second just to catch his breath. His hands traced the curve of Greg's shoulders, down his arms and then back up again, and when Greg leaned back into him Nick couldn't help himself – he had to lean down and press his mouth to Greg's neck.
This was the part he couldn't plan for; he could predict Greg's reaction to his unannounced visit, and he could predict more or less what Greg's parents would be like. He even predicted the few moments of hesitation before Greg followed him up to his hotel room, but this…this part he didn't really let himself think about, because until it happened he wasn't positive it would. It wasn't a question of whether or not Greg wanted him – he was pretty sure about that much, at least, but he'd listened to Greg hesitate or change the subject every time Nick mentioned coming back to Vegas, and he didn't know if that meant Greg was writing off just the city, or everyone he'd left behind.
But now Greg was leaning back into his touch, his neck elongated and his breath coming faster as Nick kissed a path from just below his ear to the base of his jaw. And he was still taking this slow, but it had been nearly two months since they last saw each other and suddenly it didn't feel like he was rushing anything. He'd never been much of a talker, but he could hear himself murmuring words against Greg's skin and he knew he couldn't stop them even if he wanted to. Then Greg turned in his arms and slid a hand behind his neck, pulling him forward and pressing their lips together and…God, he'd waited too long for this moment.
It was like catching fire from the inside, the words he still hadn't said pressing hard on his chest and Greg warm and alive in his grip. He kept on murmuring against Greg's lips until a tongue slid into his mouth, effectively shutting him up. His hands slid down Greg's back and under his shirt, pushing up against hot, smooth skin that he'd pictured a thousand times. He felt a shudder roll through the body pressed against him as his fingers sought out Greg's scars, brushing gently across too-smooth skin he hadn't seen yet.
"Does it hurt?" he asked when he pulled back to look at Greg, his heart skipping a beat at the sight of wet, kiss-swollen lips and half-closed eyes.
Greg shook his head, his mouth twisting into something that might have been irritation for a second before he took a step backwards and pulled his shirt over his head. And Nick wanted to see, wanted to run his hands over the scars just like he wanted to touch every part of Greg, but not if it meant making Greg self-conscious. Because he was curious, but more than that, he was relieved – that Greg was okay, and that they still had a chance even if he wasn't in Las Vegas anymore.
When Greg started to turn Nick stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, gripping just hard enough to get his attention. He wanted to say that it didn't matter, but the words sounded all wrong in his head and he knew if he said them he'd just make it worse. Instead he pulled Greg forward again, his free hand in Greg's hair to fit their mouths together. He slid his other hand down the center of Greg's chest to rest against his stomach, cataloging each breath and every little shiver that shook the skin under his fingers.
They were still standing just inside the door; the bed seemed like it was miles away, and part of Nick wanted to drop to his knees right here and suck Greg until he screamed Nick's name. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought, his hand dipping lower on Greg's stomach to trace the waistband of his jeans. He wanted everything at once, wanted to kiss Greg until he was breathless and suck him dry, wanted to fuck him hard and fast to make up for months of waiting, or fuck him slow to make it last as long as he could. He wanted to feel Greg's legs wrapped around his waist, and he wanted Greg on his knees, where he could see the scars and know that this wasn't all some crazy, vivid dream.
But more than anything he wanted whatever Greg wanted to give him, and when Greg moaned against his mouth and pulled him closer Nick found himself thinking thank God over and over again. He kicked his shoes off as he steered them toward the bed, mouth moving against Greg's and his hands on Greg's hips to keep him from falling as they stumbled across the carpet. When Greg's legs hit the edge of the mattress they stopped, and he let go long enough to tug his own shirt up and off. It hit the floor somewhere behind him as he swayed forward again, passing by Greg's mouth to press hot kisses to his neck.
He got a low, throaty groan for his efforts, and when Greg's hands slid down his back Nick's cock twitched painfully inside his jeans. He worked Greg's pants open with expert fingers, sliding a hand inside Greg's boxers to ease his cock out. The groan that got him made him instantly harder, and when he registered the sight of Greg's cock in his hand all he could think about was how long he'd been waiting for this moment. Way too long, and he wanted to suck Greg more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life.
Until he heard a low, breathless chuckle he didn't realize he'd said it out loud, but when he glanced up Greg was grinning at him. "You've been watching too much porn."
He bit back the urge to remind the other man that he wouldn't have to watch porn if Greg hadn't left town without so much as a warning. Instead he stroked Greg's cock a few times, watching as Greg's eyelids fluttered and his teeth sank into his bottom lip. "Is that a yes?"
"Whatever…Jesus…whatever you want," Greg answered, his fingers gripping Nick's shoulders hard.
"Anything?"
"Anything. Nick, please…" He pressed against Nick's shoulders with his hands, and Nick had to swallow hard against the rush of emotion that came along with Greg's words. Greg probably wasn't even listening to what he was saying, but the blind trust in his words hit Nick hard and he leaned forward for another kiss, letting go of Greg's erection long enough to push his jeans and boxers down his thighs. He eased the other man back onto the mattress, then dropped to his knees and pulled the rest of Greg's clothes off.
Once he was actually on his knees in front of Greg he slowed down again, running his hands slowly up Greg's calves, then past his knees and along his thighs. He followed the path of his fingers with his mouth, pressing soft kisses along the insides of Greg's thighs. The other man's legs parted automatically, his hands braced against the mattress to hold him up. Nick glanced up to find Greg watching him; his eyes were half-closed and his cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly parted, and Nick wished he had a camera so he could capture this sight and keep it forever. For a few seconds he just looked, burning the image into his memory for the countless nights when Greg wouldn't be there with him.
His chest tightened at that thought and he tore his gaze away, closing his fist around Greg's cock for the second time and focusing on the way Greg's hips moved in time with his hand. A few more strokes and he leaned forward, letting out a hot breath against the head before he closed his mouth around Greg and slid as far down his length as he could. His own cock ached with the need to be touched, and he reached down with his free hand and unbuttoned his jeans, fumbling with the zipper for a second before he finally got it down.
He moaned around Greg's cock at the sudden release of pressure, pressing his palm against his own length to ease the ache between his legs. And he knew he was never going to last long enough to do everything he hadn't let himself think about over the past few days, but it didn't really matter now that they were together. Even bad sex with Greg was better than no Greg at all, and he could have kicked himself for all the time he'd wasted – time he could have spent learning the weight of Greg's cock, heavy against his lip as he slid his mouth almost all the way off to tease Greg's head with his tongue.
He could have learned months ago how Greg would feel moving underneath him, could have taken him against the wall just inside his front door because they were too far gone to make it to the bed. He could have kissed Greg a thousand different ways by now, storing each one in his memory so he'd know just what to do to make the next one even better. He would know what Greg's skin felt like before the explosion, whether he'd had a freckle where now there was a scar, or if his back had been flawless before his whole world came crumbling down.
Nick moaned helplessly at the thought, the sound vibrating around Greg's cock and making the other man thrust up into his mouth. His own hips moved in a steady rhythm as he let Greg fuck his mouth, reaching up to grip his hips and guide him faster and faster until finally Greg tensed and came, heat and salt against his tongue. He waited until Greg stopped shuddering before he pulled off and kicked the rest of his clothes off, pressing warm, soothing kisses up Greg's stomach and then his chest, finally stopping when he reached Greg's neck.
The chest underneath him rose and fell heavily, Greg's breath harsh in his ear as he panted for air. Nick's hands traced random patterns over every inch of skin he could reach, his hips moving rhythmically against Greg as he mouthed a path from Greg's neck to his collarbone. And he knew he could come just like this, that he would come if he didn't find some way to distract himself, but it felt way too good to be pressed skin to skin with Greg after all this time apart.
A hand slid between them and Nick shifted automatically, groaning against Greg's shoulder as he thrust into the other man's grip. He realized he was murmuring again when Greg's other hand slid into his hair, forcing his head up to meet Greg's gaze. He had no idea what he'd been saying, but when he looked in Greg's eyes and saw the fresh lust there he knew it had something to do with all the things he wanted to do to Greg.
"So fuck me," Greg practically growled, and God, he wanted to, but Greg's hand was still moving on his cock, firm, almost rough strokes making Nick moan and thrust even harder against the other man. There were condoms…somewhere, but a second later Greg twisted his wrist and it didn't matter anymore. Nick's eyes widened in surprise and he came helplessly in Greg's hand, his muscles corded with tension as his orgasm shook through him.
Way too soon he collapsed on Greg's chest, his face pressed into the warmth of Greg's neck. "Sorry," he murmured against skin slick with sweat, although he wasn't sure if he was apologizing for coming too soon or for wanting more than he should. He pressed another kiss to Greg's skin as a hand trailed through his hair, breathing in the mingled scents of sweat and Greg and sex.
When he thought he could look at Greg without doing something stupid like blushing or crying or opening his mouth to say all those things he might have already said he pushed himself up on one elbow, reaching for the corner of the sheet and wiping off first his stomach and then Greg's hand. He grinned sheepishly when Greg laughed at him, wondering for a second if he should be insulted until he looked up and saw Greg's expression. He was pretty sure he'd never actually been in love before – he'd never felt anything like this, anyway, and suddenly a weekend together didn't seem like nearly enough time to figure things out.
"Greg…" he began, but that was as far as he got before Greg's hands were on his chest, pushing him back onto the mattress to straddle his thighs.
"Just…shut up," Greg said, his mouth twisted into something less than anger and more than determination. "Okay?"
His only answer was a sharp nod, because he couldn't remember what he'd been about to say when Greg was sitting on top of his thighs, hands still pressed against Nick's chest. Then he leaned down and caught Nick's mouth against his own, tongue pressing past Nick's teeth to taste himself on Nick's tongue, and Nick decided there would be plenty of time for talking later.
Part 03
Labels: AtWt Paris, fanfic CC, NC17, Nick/Greg
posted by BeeLikeJ at
11:40 AM
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