Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
time cast member:
Title: Breakfast with the Enemy, (2/2)
Author: RivenSky
Rating: FRM
Pairings: Greg Sanders/David Hodges
Summary: It's just breakfast. It doesn't mean anything.
Author's Notes: Special thanks to Mike for being my official
sounding board and knocking some sense into me.
>>>Breakfast with the Enemy, Part 2<<<
He sat sideways on his stool contemplating how well vinegar and oil
tasted together, yet how ironic it was that they never stayed
together if you let them sit. The clock ticked past 8:30 and he
stood, getting impatient. He didn't know if he was surprised or not
when he stepped out the door of the diner and found Greg standing at
the curb. Greg looked up at the jingling of the bells on the door.
He just waited until Greg finally spoke. "Sorry. Running late today."
"You left when I did," Hodges responded and fished his keys out of
his pocket. "See you tonight." He moved to his car, pushing the
button on his remote to unlock the door.
"I meant it you know," made him look back at Greg. "You are an
asshole. You can't just do that and walk away."
"You're starting to sound like a woman, Sanders," Hodges answered
and opened the car door. He told himself not to look back and when
he did he knew he should have listened to himself. Greg was making
those eyes, the ones that reminded him of one of those little yippy
dogs. He hated yippy dogs. He said the first thing that popped into
his head to get rid of that look. "Are you still hungry?"
Greg's eyes narrowed. "I guess."
Hodges nodded Greg's car. "Follow me." Greg hesitated, most
likely
out of surprise than anything else. Hodges drummed his fingers on
the roof of his car and watched as Greg made his decision, moving
forward and opening the door of his own car.
*
He couldn't help but wait for Greg's reaction to him taking him
home. He pulled into his driveway and turned the car off, daring
himself not to look over at Greg as the other man pulled his car
into the driveway beside his. Hodges locked his own car and only
listened for the sound of Greg getting out of his car.
Greg followed him in to his house and he watched out of the corner
of his eye as Greg turned to absorb his surroundings. The dog came
bounding through the dog door at the back and he watched with morbid
amusement as it launched itself at Greg. "Greg. Crusher."
"You named your dog Crusher?" Greg asked, stumbling back as the dog
pressed itself against him.
"He likes to crush things with his mouth," Hodges responded and
dropped his keys on the counter as he entered the kitchen. Greg
patted the rottweiler's head timidly. Crusher was a wuss in
reality
and it ticked Hodges off but he'd never admit either fact. Greg
moved into the kitchen, Crusher right on his heels like a puppy.
Hodges glared at the dog. "The best I can do is eggs and toast,"
Hodges said, opening the refrigerator.
"That's fine," Greg answered. Hodges set a carton of eggs and a bag
of bread on the counter. As he pulled a pan out and set it on the
stove he finally decided to say something.
"You're wondering if it means something." He flipped the burner on
and opened a cabinet to find the Pam. "I don't have an answer for
you."
"You're emotionally retarded. Don't worry. I get it." Hodges set the
Pam down with a thump and looked over at the younger man. There was
a brief (very brief) instant when Greg looked scared, but it passed.
Hodges found himself nodding thoughtfully as he sprayed the pan.
"How do you like your eggs?"
"Over easy."
"You look like an easy kind of guy," Hodges commented with a smirk.
"Funny."
Crusher made a yipping noise and Hodges glared out of the corner of
his eye until he saw Greg reach down and scratch the dog's ear. He
found himself smiling at the look of disgust when Crusher drooled on
Greg's shoe. "So have you always liked fucking with people's minds?"
Greg asked as Hodges dropped a couple slices of bread into the
toaster.
"It's a hobby," Hodges answered before he'd really even thought
about it. He did that a lot.
"How's that working out for you?"
"Pretty well. Thanks for asking."
It wasn't long before he was setting a plate of food down in front
of Greg at the table and sitting down in front of his own plate. It
felt weird eating across the table from the other man. They ate in
silence, not uncommon for them, and Crusher watched both of them.
*
He didn't know if other people expected it from him, but Hodges
liked to consider himself a very clean person. He'd quit smoking
when his wife left him mostly because he'd only really started
smoking because she didn't like it. Crusher was the messy one,
always tracking in mud and leaving the carpet looking like shit. But
Crusher was his only company and shooting the poor mutt seemed too
cruel even for Hodges.
Greg was looking at a picture of his daughter and it was making him
uncomfortable. "She's pretty," Greg commented, looking up at
him. "Must look like her mother." And Greg couldn't help but smile
at his own remark. Hodges had made a mental note a long time ago
that Greg Sanders wasn't very good at deadpanning. He was always too
proud of himself, a thought that could be considered hypocritical
coming from David Hodges. "How old is she?"
"She'll be 18 next month."
"Wow. I can't see you as the father of a teenager."
"Funny. She said the same thing." Hodges let Crusher out the back
door and locked the dog door. The dog whined his protest and he
turned to find Greg staring at him. They were silent for way too
long, staring at each other from twenty feet away. Finally, Greg
moved forward, coming to stand only inches away. He bit his lip in a
way that pissed Hodges off... mostly because it turned him on. And
that was the last thing he'd ever intended with Greg. He still
wasn't sure why he'd made the move he had that morning in the lab
restroom.
"Why'd you bring me here?"
"It's easier to get away with murder in your own home. I think
this'd be the last place they'd look for you." And Hodges realized
that he wasn't as sarcastically funny as he used to be.
"Ah," was all Greg said and it was suddenly obvious to Hodges that
Greg wasn't about to let what happened between them go. He was
starting to wonder if he even wanted to let it go himself. He held
his breath as Greg tested the water, moving so close to Hodges that,
even though they weren't touching, he could still feel the heat of
Greg's skin. "Are you going to at least kiss me before you kill me?"
When Greg spoke Hodges felt his skin crawl and wondered if it showed
how aroused he was by the younger man.
He'd always had a thing for younger men and in reality it was why
his wife had left him. When she'd confronted him about there being
another woman and when he told her there wasn't one she'd finally
figured it out. "The only thing worse than there being another woman
is there being a man." And when he hadn't answered, that had been
the end of their marriage.
It was Greg that bridged the gap, slipping a hand around Hodges
waist and pulling his body up against his taller frame. There was a
hot mouth on his then, demanding reciprocation, and Hodges found
himself more than willing to cooperate. Greg pushed him up against
the wall separating the kitchen from the living room and pressed his
hips against Hodges own.
Hodges couldn't swallow his gasp fast enough when Greg pulled
away and he realized quickly that they were even now. The seconds ticked past on the antique clock on his mantle as their eyes locked. It was any man's move and throwing any caution to the wind, Hodges took the bait, pushing Greg against the adjacent wall, knocking a scenic picture askew.
Greg let out a muffled grunt as their lips collided, as did their bodies. Fingers gripped the hair on the back of Hodges head as he let his teeth grasp Greg's bottom lip. They both let out gasps from the sting of each other's aggression. Hodges let his thigh press against Greg's groin and bit down hard. Greg whined and Hodges pulled away, surprised by the noise, but Greg didn't let him go far.
He watched the malice flash through the younger man's eyes and felt the heat pressed against his thigh. "Don't stop," Greg whispered in a husky voice, snapping Hodges out of his haze. The older man searched the brown eyes one last time, the lust making them darker than he remembered them, and pressed himself hard against Greg. They both knew what each other wanted.
Hodges didn't give Greg time to absorb his surroundings as he shoved the man into his bedroom. Greg had already unbuttoned the older man's shirt as they reached the room, his hand sliding inside the fabric. His nails grazed against Hodges skin making blue eyes roll back. Shoes were toed off. Greg's T-shirt was pulled over his head and tossed aside exposing his chest to Hodges eyes and it was safe to say that Hodges enjoyed the view. The younger body pressed itself against his, a mouth on his neck, and he let out a moan. His fingers found Greg's hair and he was surprised at how soft it was. He grasped the hair hard as a hot tongue glided up to his ear and a mouth enveloped the lobe and sucked briefly before it moved back to his mouth.
Greg's fingers found the zipper on Hodges pants and a moment of panic flooded through Hodges system as he realized what he was doing and with whom. He pulled away, releasing the CSI's lip from his teeth and stared into Greg Sanders eyes. The brown eyes just questioned him, the fingers halting in their course. There was a change then as he debated what defenses to let down and which ones to keep up and Greg seemed to understand like he'd known this Dave all his life. Brown eyes held his blue for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime before he reacted, pushing the man away from him and watching with sick amusement as Greg gasped and fell back onto the bed.
He was pretty sure that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde had started a war inside him and he wasn't sure who won as he slid over Greg's legs. He was perched above Greg and again their eyes were locked, watching each other, waiting to see who cracked first as if it were a game of chicken. Greg's hands were at the hem of his pants again as sunlight fractured itself through the Venetian blinds and glinted in Greg's eyes. The antique clock ticked loudly in the next room. "Dave?" Greg's voice had a husk to it when he spoke, his hand moving to the older man's cheek.
He looked away, unable to look into those brown eyes anymore. "Forgive me."
Greg put his other hand on Hodges' face, forcing their eyes to meet. "There's nothing to forgive."
"I can't do this." His body was begging to differ, and he was certain Greg could tell. "I'm sorry." Hodges moved, their bodies loosing contact and screaming in protest. He sat on the end of the bed waiting for Greg to say anything. He waited for Greg to make some callous comment, but it didn't come. He felt a hand on his shoulder and didn't dare look.
A voice whispered in his ear, so close it made him shiver, "I can wait until you're ready." A hand ran over his hair, and he closed his eyes. "I'm yours when you want me." Greg was gone when he opened his eyes.
*
Greg had put it off as long as he could before Grissom's raised voice sent him packing for Trace to get the results from their case. How they'd managed to go so long without seeing each other, he had no idea, but it helped that he'd been in the field most of the night. He rounded the corner with a pain in his chest and saw Hodges' back first. Nick and Warrick were already there, giving Hodges a bad time. "The more you beg me for the results the farther down the pile they go."
"These are murder investigations, Hodges," Warrick said incredulously.
"Your case is next on my to do list. Give me some credit and let me get back to work."
"Catherine is going to be pissed," Nick told Warrick as they stepped out of the lab. They nodded at Greg and moved along.
His feet did the right thing, even though his mind screamed at them, as he stepped into Hodges' lab. He opened his mouth to speak when the other man turned and caught sight of him. There was a flicker in the blues eyes and Greg found himself smiling as the other man spoke. "Hey, Greg."
"Hey, Dave. What've you got for me?"
"Come and see," Dave nodded towards the microscope. With a small smirk Greg moved to stand beside Dave and he looked down the scope. He could feel the air move around them. His body's senses flared.
Greg looked up, his hands grasping the table on either side of the microscope. "Coffee grinds?"
"Bonus points if you can guess what kind."
Greg's smirk broadened into a coy smile. "What would I get to use my bonus points for?" Dave's fingers were touching his.
"Depends on whether you get them or not." And Dave waggled his
eyebrows for effect.
Greg looked back down the scope, biting his lip. "Dark. Finely ground." He looked up, a full-blown smile on his face. "Espresso beans." Dave narrowed his eyes.
"Ahem." They both jumped, their hands breaking contact as they turned to find Catherine in the doorway. "When you guys are done mooning over each other can I get the results of my evidence?" Greg's jaw dropped.
"What's in it for me?" Was all Hodges said, his eyes still narrowed.
"I don't tell Ecklie about you two," Catherine responded matter-of- factly. Greg turned to look at Hodges as the other man grabbed a folder and stepped forward to hand it to Catherine. "Thank you." She turned to go, but stopped. "Oh, and do remember that these walls are made of glass." She winked at them and left. Two panes of glass over, Mia and Jacqui averted their gazes.
Greg looked back to Dave and felt a calmness settle over him at the sight of the older man's small smile. "So what do I get to use my bonus points for?"
Dave pushed a folder to his chest and shouldered him out of the way as he moved across his lab. "You'll find out after shift." Greg smiled, his folder clutched to his chest.
"Greg!" The voice resounded through the lab and Greg moved quickly towards Grissom's office, too lazy to wipe the stupid smile off his face.