Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Waiting for Nick making his way down the hall slowing down from a mild jog, Greg leaned against the wall out of the way. Suddenly there seemed to be a million techs wanting around him, Sara and Catherine included, as he stood cradling his broken arm from an accidental brush by.
"Hey Cath, Sara," Nick nodded, taking the injured arm by the elbow and herding Greg back the way he came and ultimately out the back door. "I know you've been released from the hospital but Grissom doesn't want you heading home alone tonight. He thought he might have found something, but turned out to be a dead end."
"Really?" Greg perked up, interested. "Trash can or car?"
"Trash can. No prints, wiped clean."
Greg frowned. "Someone knows what they're doing."
"We think so, yeah. We also thought you might want to come over for dinner?" Nick asked, shooting him a lance. "There's something we want to talk to you about."
"That why you're dragging me back out to the parking lot rather than allowing me to sacrifice myself to the gods of overtime?"
The Texan chuckled. "Something like that."
"Well, that depends," Greg grinned. Teasing, he pretended to drag his feet. "You cooking?"
It was worth it to see that mock glare as Stokes dug for his keys. "Hey I 'll have you know I make a mean chili."
"Mean being the operative word here, Nick. You forget I've had your chili."
Nick glared, pretended dignity but didn't comment. "It's Gil's night to cook." He ignored the obviously faked sigh of relief. "You better be nice, Greggo," he warned with a smile. "Your next eval is in a couple weeks. I could convince Grissom to let me take you in the field. You know, the best way to teach you all about the fine art of dumpster diving is to have the trainee do it."
"Okay, I'll behave." Giving in graciously, the shrug turned into a backwards look at his rental car as Nick steered him over to the Bronco. "I can drive you know."
"I know. But do *you* know where Grissom lives?"
"Good point. I could follow you." Though the Jetta was still in impound, held over for evidence, the insurance company had wasted no time in getting him a nifty little Beatle Bug to drive. Even after finding out the fuel line on his last car had been cut. Shame he couldn't have talked them into a nice electric orange...uniform gray was so boring. At least silver of his Jetta had the advantage of looking distinguished.
Tugging gently on the sling, Nick shook his head. "Don't want to take any chances, if you catch my drift?"
"Caught," he nodded and headed around the hood to the other side. "Gotcha. The stump jumper it is."
"Greg?" Nick's eyebrow raised, favoring him from the driver's seat, engine rumbling solidly to life. "Not a good idea to insult a man's truck."
* * * * *
He had expected dinner, maybe a few hours of pleasant company. He hadn't expected to be attacked the moment he walked in the door. Apparently neither had Nick.
"Have a good time sabotaging your own career, Sanders?"
"Grissom, what - ?"
"It's been Greg all along, Nick." Grissom told him, never taking his eyes off the young tech. The hadn't even gotten as far as the living room before Grissom had confronted them.
"What?" Shocked, Nick looked between them.
"I figured it out this afternoon. But I couldn't believe it so I double checked a few things. No prints were there should have been at least Greg's."
"But you said they were wiped clean..."
"That's right, they were." Turning from his lover to Greg, standing unsure and stunned in the middle of the entry hall, Grissom asked again, "Well, what do you have to say for yourself? Other than you were obviously bucking for another job. What's the matter? We weren't running through new CSI's in the field fast enough? After Holly you wanted to be the second death on our collective conscience?"
Greg had blanched pure white. "I..."
"Gil..." Nick warned.
But Grissom was having none of it.
"The Mulberry's rock wall? Your own car?" Gil ground out, angrier than Greg had ever seen him. Angrier than after the whole Nigel Crane thing. Angrier even than when he demanded Greg put everything else aside and find Zachary Anderson's killer; the infant that had been found smothered and wrapped in a blanket. Even going so far as to physically swipe all of Ecklie's collected samples off the little metal cart and placing his own evidence in it's place. At the time Greg had been too stunned to move, responding more to the pain hiding deep behind the glittering blue eyes than to the actual command...but now...
With a start Greg realized Grissom's fists were clenched tightly at his side. As if to keep them from lashing out... "The so called mugging? The trash can at CSI? Wasn't one lab explosion enough for you?"
* * * * *
"Wasn't one lab explosion enough for you?"
Greg flinched; that one *hurt*. Grissom might as well have hit him for all the impact that last one had on him. The guilt crashed down then, the memory of worried looks and haunted eyes... "I...Grissom..."
"Damnit Greg what were you trying to do?" Gil demanded. "Get yourself killed?"
"No!" The protest was torn out of him. That was the last thing he wanted to do. He just wanted...he wanted... "No! I just...I mean I...." He was surprised to find himself shaking.
Surprised to find tears threatening to spill, both for the accusations as well as the weeks, months of unfair abuse from both sides that had started this whole thing. The taunts and whispers and mean things left where he would find them, all in the guise of harmless pranks. If not accusing him of being a traitor then calling him a wannabe...
It had started out as an accident; the wall that had given way with him on it and Brass and the others giving him a good natured hard time about it. Which was different than the hard time they *had* been giving him. It had just gotten out of hand. Like a rock rolling downhill, building on it's own momentum and running over anything in it's path. The mugging, the trash can, the car...
He hadn't meant to hurt anyone.
Now if the techs and the CSI's weren't ignoring him they walked on eggshells around him. Treated him as if he were either too fragile to be left alone or too jinxed to be around. Except for the night shift. Mostly. Except for Nick and Grissom.
That they could think he would really want to kill himself...it was too much. It was all too much. He had to get out of there before he told them everything. All the reasons why...
There was a reason he had been both elated and terrified that it had been Grissom and Nick that stayed on his case. Like burrs on a blanket, as Papa Olaf liked to say.
It meant they still cared about him. It also meant they might find something.
And now it meant he was out of a job. Both of them. And all of his friends. Two of which he had selfishly fantasized as being more than just friends...
But now Grissom - which also meant Nick - surely hated him. He *knew* what Grissom thought of suicides. Called it the coward's way out. One step below murder and since the victim was the self that somehow made it that much worse. "You wouldn't understand." He turned, started to leave.
Only to find Nick standing against the door, barring his way. No matter how shocked he had been walking in, Nick wasn't about to let Greg walk out. Not like this. "We wouldn't?"
"No. Everyone loves *you*," Greg spat out petulantly, unable to keep the venom inside where it belonged. He fought it back with a watery glare. Before he said more than he should. More than he had. Didn't matter anyway.
Even if they didn't know why, they knew enough. "Now move, Stokes." If he hadn't been so tied in knots the incredulous look on Nick's face might have been funny.
"Ummm...." he watched as Nick thought about it. "No."
"Just tell us why, Greg," Grissom pleaded from behind him, sounding tired. "Why would you put us through this? After - " He cut himself off abruptly, wincing. But Greg already knew what he had been about to say. Because he had already said it once.
And all of the anger rushed out of him, leaving him just as tired, just as defeated. "After the explosion?" *Because you promised you'd take care of me.* But he couldn't say that. That was just a bit too pathetic, even for him.
Unable to stand any longer without falling on his nose, Greg moved over to the nearest chair, an over-stuffed wingback - from the style and worn condition, a part of him not on autopilot figured it must be Nick's � and dropped down into it. That and fact the that the throw with the southwestern motive was a dead giveaway.
The cat was well out of the bag now. He was going to tell them, so why delay the inevitable. Maybe if he did a good enough job of the telling they'd be so disgusted with him they would let him leave, resign and waste away in peace. "After I woke up in the hospital and all of my friends actually seemed happy that I survived? That I was still around? That after?"
"So it *is* true? Jesus, Greg." He was surprised to find Nick had dropped down beside him on the floor. Still between him and the door though no longer guarding it, one hand holding on to the leather arm of the chair. So close it almost touched his knee. Eyes burning and blurred, Greg had never saw him move. "Is that what you think? That we don't want you around?"
"I don't know." Eyes that had lowered now raised; the half-hearted attempt at a rally not enough to actually look either of them in the eye. It would be so much easier not to see the accusations there. The pity there. "Maybe. Isn't it?"
"No, Greg. It's not." Grissom spoke from where he stood, anger laced and not quite overridden by the exasperation he wasn't trying tried to hide. "Greg, don't you get it?"
"I get a lot of things. What's not to get?"
"No apparently you don't." Nick scolded him. "Greg we care about you. The whole fucking *lab* cares about you."
"Yeah well maybe I'm so fucking *tired* of caring what the whole fucking *lab* thinks!" Now his eyes rose to meet Nick's head on. Anger was good, anger was so much easier...
And true to form, that meant Grissom changed tone again. "The whole lab, Greg?"
*That* voice. The tone, soft and speculative that said Grissom had figured out something about the puzzle that was Greg Sanders that he hadn't known before.
A piece Greg was pretty sure he had been better off with Grissom not knowing about.
So hold on to the anger. The best offense being a good defense... "Face it, the techs all think I'm a traitor and hassle me. The CSI's think I'm a waste of time and barely tolerate me in the field. Too many questions. So, yeah, pretty much the whole lab."
"No, Greg." Suddenly Grissom was close, too close. One hand cupped under his chin, warm and solid raising his eyes to meet Gil's. "Not the whole lab. Not us."
He tried to say something and found he couldn't. Because what was staring at him now wasn't anger or pity or disappointment. Not even close.
"Ummm...."
"I'm kinda glad not everyone loves you, Greggo," Nick told him, grinning that shy Texan's smile. "Leaves more of you for us."
"More for..." Head snapping up, Greg searched them both, pretty sure what was being offered here was exactly what he wanted. But now? After everything? Still, he couldn't help the optimistic little, "Really?"
"Really." And now that hand wasn't on the leather of the chair but the denim of his jeans, fingers *just* playing with the rip over his knee, tracing skin and bone.
Grissom shrugged and smiled. Despite the pain still in his eyes, it was a sweet, almost boyish smile that clutched at his heart. "Call me greedy."
"Greedy," Greg nodded agreeably and, feeling a wild kind of kamikaze thrill, leaned in, pulling Gil down for his first kiss.
* * * * *
Their first kiss was sweet and shy; hesitant almost. Their lips clinging together before inevitably pulling apart. At that moment Grissom cleared his throat and attempted a somewhat stern, "Which isn't to say we won't be discussing this again, in more detail, mind you."
"But later," Nick added and Grissom agreed.
"Later. Right now..."
"Right now I want to play with my new toy." Nick said, grinning as his fingers toyed with the thread of Greg's jeans.
"Oh I'm your toy now, am I?" Greg grinned, eyebrows raised. He couldn't believe this was happening. That they wanted him...
"Mmmhmm." Nick leaned up and over and kissed him, one hand on his thigh, the other cupping the back of his head. "Our very own CSI wannabe action figure."
"You gonna remove the wrapping?" Greg grinned, head still spinning in giddy elation, his mind going a mile a minute, just a bit slower than his heart.
"Oh you bet."
Gil smirked. "Nicky I think it's time we go put our action figure away where it belongs."
"Where might that be?" Greg smiling, going along.
Those dark, dark eyes were so serious when Nick avowed, "In our bed. In our lives. In our arms."
"I think I can live with that." Softer, Greg was still smiling. He wasn't aware he was crying until Gil pulled him up, wiping away his tears as Nick stood and wrapped his arms around him.
"We hoped you might."
"This was what you wanted to talk about?" Greg asked, mouth opening in surprise, allowing Grissom the perfect opportunity to dive in for another kiss.
"Mmhmm."
"Wow."
Oh he loved that little Grissom chuff of laughter. Especially when it was given against his neck, just above the curve of his shoulder, under his ear.
"Yeah wow, " Grissom agreed. Greg shivered when Gil tongued that spot. "Before I went and got angry and almost ruined it."
"Well," Greg murmured thoughtfully, skirting the issue, "an angry Grissom is a sexy Grissom." Another snort, this time from both men though he could tell Nick at least agreed with him. "You know..." Shaky now, Greg's voice trembled, breath coming out in a sigh as he felt Nick nosing along the same path on the other side. "As an action figure..." He gasped, his mouth open in pants to draw in much needed air. Nick was kissing his jaw under his other ear, teeth coming up to catch at the lobe. "...I *am* fully posable."
"Really?"
"Oh!...yeah." Gil's mouth attacking gently in tandem with Nick's, Greg arched into their touch, both sets of hands gliding over his arms. Enjoying the thrumming in his blood; the feeling of being held between two equally strong bodies. "Double jointed actually."
Gil's smile into his skin was positively evil. "That's good to know."
Working their way into the back without ever letting him go, Gil and Nick took turns between kissing and undressing their new lover, one piece of clothing at a time, making sure to take extra care with the sling. Pushed down on the bed, naked except for that sling and the cast on that arm, Greg asserted with a blushing leer, "Anatomically correct." A thought then occurred to him and he grinned up with a quirky snicker, "Which, given our most recent case..."
"Greg?" Nick warned, laughter in his eyes while his lips pursed in a disapproving frown. "Let's not go there, ok?"
"Well, I know Greg is glad he has a penis and you know I happen to be interested in his ass, so..." Gil chuckled.
Nick couldn't help but laugh and Greg kinda wondered just what he missed when those two went out to the trannie bar.
"I for one would rather be here."
"And here you are," Gil smirked, leaning over him and stealing a kiss.
Greg couldn't stop the moan as Grissom's clothed body came into contact with his naked skin. He forgot all about mutilated bodies and the transgendered and did something he had long wanted to do - he buried his hands in those lovely salt and pepper curls and used the fact that he had the leverage to deepen the kiss, pulling Grissom down until the older man rested on top of him.
"You have too many clothes on," he told him.
"In due time," Gil smirked, his own hands shifting through Greg's hair. Scattered and in no particular placement, the white-blond highlights slipped through his fingers, making him smile. Unexpected and in no recognizably predictable pattern he could see; just like their Greg. "We plan on ravishing you, tonight," Gil told him, fingers moving down to stroke the fine bones of his face, the soft fullness of his lips.
Eyes lowered shyly, Greg answered, "I really don't have a problem with that." Something occurred to him then and he blushed. "It's just that I'm hmm...I mean I just...you need to know that I..."
Laying on the bed beside the tech who had turned an interesting shade of day-glow red, Nick grinned, head propped up on one hand, the fingers of his other lightly tracing, circling the bare shoulder.
With an embarrassed groan, Greg fell back against the pillows, sighing, melting into Nick's touch. Trying not to laugh and shaking back frustrated tears. "This is so not how I imagined confessing this..."
Eyebrows raised, Grissom shifted off to the other side, realizing this might be something needing discussion. Still resting, hovering against Greg, Gil kept rubbing his leg in a soothing rhythm. "What Greg? What is it you feel you need to confess?"
"I haven't...I've never...." He blew out a breath. "Aw, hell. The rumor around the lab? About me being a virgin until I was 22? That's not exactly...accurate." Holding both pairs of eyes he dared them both to laugh. "More like 27."
"27?" Nick repeated, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah, more like right now."
"You mean with men, right?"
"With anyone, Stokes. And I swear if you laugh, I'm hitting you with this cast."
The startled look on Grissom's face was too funny. Stunned and a little fearful. Like someone had just given him a newly hatched chick and told him not to drop it. Or maybe a three day old kitten.
"You...Greg..."
"I swear to god Grissom if you say anything other that's it's an honor and you want to make the earth move for me..." Greg frowned, and swore, only half joking.
"It's an honor," Slowly descending, Gil's lips touched Greg's, stilling them softly. Pressing a little harder, he moved up to include equally chaste kiss to both eyes, his nose and forehead, breathing deeply. "And the earth will move, I promise."
"Good." Emotional overload. "That's good. Now? Can it move now?"
"It's gonna move right now," Nick told him firmly. "Grissom I think we're a bit overdressed."
"I think you're right," Gil agreed. "But first..." He kissed Greg thoroughly, making sure to catch the brown eyes when they opened again. "I think Greg needs a little bit of attention."
Working his way down, Gil didn't tease; just licked and nipped in a sure line down between the parted thighs, splayed open in reflex for the questing mouth as it moved lower. Reaching his goal, Gil held Greg's legs apart, hands stroking and kneading gently and took his cock into his mouth, sucking softly.
Nick chuckled at Greg's helpless cry. Moving closer, careful to avoid leaning on the injured arm, Nick nuzzled his jaw, fingers stroking his chest, soothing the shivers and whispering in his ear. "We have all night Greg. Just let go."
Too much, too fast his orgasm hit him then, tearing a surprised and strangled scream from him. Lying there panting he gradually became aware of Nick's fingers still petting him; of Gil's hands, one on his other leg, one again playing, shifting through his hair. The man himself had moved back up and once more lay pressed on his other side. He could melt right now and die a happy man.
"Well?" Nick's voice chuckled in his ear.
"Off the Richter," he managed, grinning himself at Gil's smug little hum. He himself had this sappy, satiated smile on his face, Greg just knew it.
"Ready for round two?"
A small groan was his answer, swallowed by Nick's kiss, Greg eagerly following Grissom's urging and rolling over onto the lean hard body. When he came back up for air, Gil was already undressed. Frowning a little at missing the older man undressing, the view more than made up for it. First thing Greg needed to do was get the man some more flattering clothes. He stifled the giggle imagining the look on Gil's face at the thought of Greg picking out his clothes.
He was beautiful. Strong legs, strong arms, compact body just showing a little pudge in the middle...the perfect contrast for Nick who Greg knew from locker room changings was more of a hard body. Lean and not an ounce of fat on him, Nick's muscles were more sharply defined while Gil's held a softer curve...
"Maybe I should have fed you first..." The teasing voice brought Greg out of his comparisons, Gil's color up at the frank appreciation he could see in his new lover's eyes. "We did invite you over for dinner."
"Feed me later," Greg advised. "I think I need to build up my appetite first." Favoring Nick with that same hungry appraisal, Greg demanded, "Your turn."
Nick only nipped his nose, moving off the bed to stand at the foot while Grissom took his place. Chuckling Gil settled back against the headboard, pulling Greg into his arms, the young man determined not to miss this. "You keep looking at him like that, Nicky's going to break the land speed record for taking off his clothes."
Never taking his eyes off the dark haired man bending back up from removing his shoes, hands on the buttons of his jeans, Greg didn't miss the blush that now stained his face, down his neck. "And this would be a bad thing how?"
"Good point."
Nick glared through his blush, turning the rest of his strip around. Both men laughed and Nick responded by shaking his ass as his jeans were removed, throwing a come hither look over his shoulder with a chuckle. Climbing back up the bed in only his shirt, opened from neck to navel, he claimed first Greg's and then Gil's lips in a passionate kiss. Straddling their legs, Nick removed that last article of clothing, making sure to maintain eye contact the whole time. Greg's mouth was open and Gil's eyes were dark with lust and love.
"Where do you want me?" Nick asked, deliberately using Greg's words from so long ago.
Gil's gaze rolled over him in a warm, solid heat. "Greg's not the only one who's hungry tonight, is he?"
"Ah, no," Nick admitted, leaning into the hand that caressed his cheek.
"I didn't think so. Under Greg, opened up. " Shifting from under Greg, Gil ordered, "Move up Greg and let Nick lie down. Good, now you straddle him - good." Moving to settle in behind Greg, Grissom rubbed hands down his arms before folding his arms around him, chin resting on Greg's shoulder. "You're going to take Nick while I take you," the warm rumble washed over him, sending a terrified, excited tingle down to his stomach. "Think you can handle that?"
His head fell back onto the shoulder of the man holding him, feeling every nerve and tingle of arousal double at the image that flashed into his head at those words. "God, yes. Nick?"
"Oh yeah." Reaching up, Nick's rough fingers skimmed over his chest, running down his sides and back up. Opening his eyes, Greg saw that Nick's were heavy lidded, dark and fuzzy with passion and interest. "I want you Greg."
The lube retrieved from the dresser, Gil pressed close behind Greg, all presence and banked heat. Whispering lewd things in his ear, instructions on how to play with Nick, to get him ready for Greg, all the while putting actions to words on Greg; fingers sliding and twisting inside him with pleasurable intensity.
Greg shuddered and rocked with the fullness; feeling Nick doing the same under him, the soft hitches of breath and shudders notching the pleasure up that much higher. When Grissom kissed his neck with one last twist and removed his fingers, Greg knew what was coming. Following Gil's instructions, Greg slowly pushed inside Nick first, a visceral part of him leaping at the small cry turned moan as he slid all the way in.
He nodded at the whispered, "ready?" feeling Nick's fingers tangle in his. Holding on to those dark eyes his own slowly closed as he felt himself being forced open, a little bit at a time. Lost in the burn he bit his lip, felt Nick's fingers tighten but didn't open his eyes. In time the discomfort faded, leaving only the fullness inside his body and the pleasurable squeeze of Nick's body around him.
"Greg...move." Nick's gasp and shift opened his eyes. Head thrown back, he had bitten his lip, the hand not tangled in his, holding on to his good arm where Greg braced himself on the mattress. An experimental rocking of Greg' s hip brought a moan from all three of them and Greg gasped, starting up an uncertain rhythm that grew in confidence and strength and Grissom steadied him, Nick wrapping his legs around them both and holding on.
It wasn't long until all three were falling headlong into oblivion together, one strangled scream of the others name shortly after another.
* * * * *
Epilouge...
"So that's it." Looking up from his case notes, Gil Grissom took off his glasses, and addressed his people. "It's been two months and nothing more as been found out about whoever it was pulling those pranks on Greg."
"Pranks?" Warrick asked, slouched in his chair, pen tapping against the table top. "You mean no one was out to get our Gregster?" There was still a bit of anger there, Warrick no doubt remembering the frantic trip out to the hospital after Greg's car ran off the road.
Grissom shrugged and closed the file. "It's looking more like a case of pranks that got out of hand. All leads have been exhausted and with no new incidents, we don't have much to go on."
"Do you expect any further attempts at what passes for humor?" Sara put in, twist to her lips telling them she was just glad it was all over. That now maybe life could get back to normal.
The morning after, the three men had a nice long talk about Greg's actions over Nick's Texas omelets, deciding that they would close the file as unsolved. None of the others needed to know Greg had been sabotaging himself; especially not about the cut brake lines or the trash can at the lab. It would do more harm than good and Greg had sworn to never do it again. Gil and Nick had privately swore he would never have reason to.
"Honestly?" Grissom shook his head. "Not really, no. I think whoever it was got the message that we don't take kindly to anyone messing with our CSIs."
"It's about time - wait." That brought an out and out smile on the brunette's face. "Greg passed his level one evaluation."
"Yesterday," Nick confirmed, an equally broad smile on his.
Sara snickered at that look. "You took him dumpster diving?"
The Level Three laughed. "*Oh* yeah."
"You're an evil man, Nick Stokes," Catherine chided, head shaking at the antics of some of the male members of CSI.
Nick only shrugged and traded a glance with Warrick, both men bumping fists. "It's tradition."
"Don't let Greg hear you say that," Grissom advised. "He should be here any minute. I had him take the Burnett samples to Hodges in Trace."
Greg was now truly one of them. All around the table smiles broke out - and if anyone noticed that two of them were just a little brighter than the others, noone made comment.
* * * * *
Dropping off Grissom's evidence baggies, Greg nodded at Hodges. "These are from Grissom."
"So, " Hodges asked, giving Greg the eye before he could make good his escape. The normally holier than thou droll tone was heavy with knowledge and amusement. Strangely enough though not unkind. "You find your niche yet?"
Greg only stared at him in surprise before feeling a smile spread across his face. Hodges had known all along and hadn't told anyone. Not even Grissom. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
"Yeah. Yeah I have." Greg nodded.
"Good."
Turning back, one hand on the doorframe, Greg spoke, "Hey Hodges? Thanks."
Only to receive the techs usual irritated wave, "yeah, yeah...", attention already focused back down his scope.
Turning back down towards the break room humming, already anticipating his first official assignment, Greg found himself grinning, smile wrapped around his face and not caring.
"Because you're mine....I walk the line..."
November 20, 2004
