Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Part Two
(Blair's POV)
The ride home was silent. My fault I suppose. I made it clear that I didn't want to talk, so he's not going to talk. But he doesn't seem to be angry. In fact he seems contrite. He probably wants to apologize, but I've been a brat all afternoon. I've definitely overreacted. They were just talking after all. I'm not that insecure about our relationship that I think he still has some interest in Grissom. I know, truly know deep in my heart and soul how much Jim loves me, and he would never throw me over for an old lover. I could just let him apologize and then we can move on to the kiss and make up phase of tonight's entertainment.
But I don't think I'm going to let him off the hook that easily. I'm just devious enough to want to use this little incident to my advantage. If I still act like I'm pissed off, Jim will devote himself to making it up to me. I'm envisioning backrubs and bubble baths and basically Jim waiting on me hand and foot.
So we get into the apartment and I'm expecting the groveling to start right away. You know the begging for forgiveness, the declaration of undying affection and the promises of sexual favors.
So what does he do? He goes into the kitchen and starts making dinner. No mention of how he's been ignoring me all day, no explanation of his relationship with Grissom, just "Hey Chief, what do you want for dinner?"
I stare at him. He's rummaging through the refrigerator. I think he's saying something about the lasagna we have in the freezer. But I'm not really listening to what he's saying. I'm just puzzled at his behavior. I was expecting some TLC and I'm not getting any. That is so not cool.
Well, I'm not going to let him get away with that. I come up behind him at the counter, wrap my arms around his trim waist and press myself up against him.
"Hey Chief, it's kind of hard for me to fix supper with you attached to my ass like this."
That was just the wrong thing to say. Because I've been thinking about being attached to his ass all afternoon.
"Fuck supper."
"Such language, Sandburg."
"Fuck you." I shoved him forward, face down across the counter.
"C'mon Blair, let me get the pan in the oven."
"I said fuck you Ellison, and I intend to do just that." I shove one of my knees between his thighs and up against his balls. He struggles a little bit, but then he lays still. He's got six inches and forty pounds on me. I'm in good shape, but he could toss me across the room, easily.
If he really wanted to get away.
Aha, a eureka moment. He doesn't want to get away. That's why he didn't fall all over himself to appease my jealousy. He figured that his inattentiveness would spur me into action. He knows me so well. And here I thought I was the smart one. He wants me to be dominant. I can do that.
I pull him up again and yank his T-shirt out of his jeans and up over his head, then I quickly push him down again.
"Sandburg, what are you doing?"
I grind my awakening cock against his denim-clad ass. "I'm claiming what's mine James." He shudders. I only call him James when I'm feeling possessive. "You know, I didn't appreciate being ignored this afternoon," I continue in a conversational tone. I lunge forward with my hips, trapping him between me and the counter. "And I didn't appreciate you flirting with another man."
"I wasn't flirting. We were just talking."
"Now James, don't make it worse by lying. You were happy to see him again, and all morning you little mind was reliving past memories of your relationship with him."
"Blair please�"
"I'm right aren't I? You were thinking about him and remembering all the things you used to do together and getting all turned on. Weren't you?" He knows I'm not really mad at him. And if he was reliving some past memories, that's okay. Fantasies are healthy. In fact, I've had some stray thoughts all afternoon about Jim and Gil. Imagining them together kind of appeals to the voyeur in me.
"I'm sorry."
"You know that saying you're sorry isn't good enough, don't you? You're going to have to make it up to me."
"Anything" he says immediately. "Anything you want lover."
"I want you, James. I want your ass. Because it belongs to me, doesn't it?"
"Yes. Yours, all yours."
"I'm glad you realize that. Show it to me." His hands fly to his waist, unbuckling his belt and unfastening his jeans quickly and shoving them down so they fall around his ankles. Gods, I love his ass. Firm and tight and muscular. Even before I knew I wanted him I thought he had a great ass.
Before he has a chance to object or move at all, I grab his hands and pull them behind him. I snag the cuffs from my belt and secure his wrists. I can see the shudder run up the muscles in his back and I think I hear him whimper. Oh I love him like this, so pliant, so receptive. I stand back and just admire the view for a moment. I turn and open a drawer, fumble around among the towels and dishcloths until I find the lube and condoms. We have lube and condoms in every room of the loft. It saves time and preserves the spontaneity.
I turn back to Jim and the sight before me takes my breath away. He has stretched his arms back as far as he can reach and grasped his own cheeks and is holding himself open for me. Man, I can't get the condom on fast enough. I step up behind him and prepare him quickly and enter him with one swift, hard thrust. Here we are in the kitchen. I'm still fully dressed with my dick sticking out of my fly, and Jim is stretched out in front of me totally naked except for his jeans bunched around his ankles, handcuffed and letting me take him as hard as I can.
Needless to say, neither of us lasts very long. Having him bent over the counter like that puts him in a perfect position for my cock to slide over his prostate with every thrust, and he comes without me even touching his cock. Just as he comes I hear him say, "Love you, Blair. Only you." The combination of his words and the contractions in his ass squeezing my dick cause me to come right after him. I think I screamed his name when I came. Maybe not. For someone who likes to talk so much, I get pretty non-verbal when I'm fucking. I'm also pretty incoherent after I come, and I lose conscious for a bit.
(Gil's POV)
"We should get some dinner. Do you want to go down to the restaurant or order room service?" I ask him as I unlock the door to our hotel room.
Apparently Greg has other plans for dinner. As soon as we get into the room, he pushes me up against a wall and takes my mouth in a fierce kiss. He doesn't often get this assertive. He's usually content to let me take control. He's working on getting my shirt up over my head, but he doesn't want to take his tongue out of my mouth long enough to do it. I wish I had worn a button down today. He settles for just rucking it up under my armpits. He strips off his own shirt, which is a button down, not that he took the time to unbutton it anyway. And then he's on me rubbing against me, stroking my chest and tweaking my nipples.
He finally breaks off the kiss when breathing becomes necessary, and I take advantage of the break to get my shirt off. He's looking a little wild-eyed and I can actually see the pulse in his throat jumping. Of course my heart is pounding, too. He can turn me on faster than anyone I've ever known. I try to take a step forward to lead him to the bed, but apparently he's decided that he's in charge tonight and he shoves me back and I crack my head on the wall. He mutters a quick apology then he's kissing me again. I try to put my arms around him, but he grabs my wrists and pins them to the wall over my head. He's on me again and now he's sucking on my neck, and I'm glad I packed a turtleneck because he's marking me and it wouldn't do for me to be teaching a seminar with a big hickey showing. Of course wearing a turtleneck in late May is usually a dead giveaway.
"I hope you were serious."
I'm trying to figure out what he's talking about, but there's not enough blood getting through to my brain, so my witty response is "Huh?"
He grins at me. The little bastard is proud of himself for getting me so flustered.
"What you said" he nibbles on my ear "in the car" he lays a line of kisses along my jaw "after lunch" he drives his tongue into my mouth "about letting me fuck you" he brings one of my hands down and pushes it between his legs, so I can feel how hard he is. At this point it's not a matter of letting him fuck me so much as begging him to.
"Greg�please." This time he not only smiles, he chuckles. He's laughing at me because I can't form a coherent sentence.
"What's the matter, Gil? You seem to be having a little trouble speaking."
I don't need to speak. I know something else I can do with my mouth that's much more interesting. I shove him back a few steps and fall to my knees in front of him and nuzzle my face into his crotch. I pull back and look up at him, waiting to see what he'll do.
"Do you want it?" He's speaking softly. I don't even try to answer in words, I just nod and he quickly unbuttons and unzips and then his cock is in my face and I suck him in. Now it's his turn to make incoherent noises. I smile to myself as I concentrate on what I'm doing. It doesn't take long before he's grabbing the back of my head and pouring himself down my throat. He's been turned on all afternoon and I am good at this. After all, I learned how to suck cock before he was born.
Damn! I hate it when my brain hits me with one of those age difference thoughts. I managed to hold off the one that it tried to throw at me when my bad knees hit the floor.
I lean forward and rest my forehead against his thigh and just breath for a minute.
"Are you okay?" He runs caressing hands through my hair.
"Yes, love. You just overwhelmed me a bit."
He puts a hand under my chin and tilts my face up to look at him. His eyes hold a mixture of concern, love and still quite a bit of lust, even after coming once already. "Well, you just get your breath back and rest for a minute." And now the look of concern is replaced with one of pure lust. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
I shudder in response and my cock twitches in my pants. He helps me to my feet and leads me over to the bed. He shoves me down on my back. Oh, he's getting assertive again. He strips off the rest of my clothes, then quickly sheds his own. His cock is already half hard again, inspired by whatever lustful thoughts are going through his head. He climbs onto the bed with me and takes my cock into his mouth and sucks me for a few moments, taking me deep into his throat, and I can tell how aroused he is, because he usually can't take me all the way unless he's really turned on. He comes up for air and works his way up my body until we're kissing again, almost frantically, and I can feel his cock, now totally hard, rubbing against my hip. He rolls me onto my stomach, and I raise myself up onto my knees while he's fumbling in the bedside table for the lube and condoms that we left there last night. He quickly prepares himself and me. He doesn't use the cuffs but he does grab onto my wrists and I fall face first into the pillow as he pins my arms at my sides. Then he's behind me and in me with one hard thrust. I wince a little at the brief stab of pain. "Sorry" he mumbles into my ear as he pauses to let me adjust.
"It's alright. Keep going."
"Didn't mean to hurt you."
"I'm okay. Do it."
"Are you sure?"
"Damn it, Greg. I'm fine. Fuck me already!"
He laughs. I'm glad one of us is enjoying this. I wonder where he's getting his control. He's been hard and horny all afternoon; he shouldn't have this much control. Maybe I shouldn't have sucked him off.
"Patience, lover. I don't get to do this that often. Want to make it last."
"Baby if you want to top more often, that's fine with me. But if you're gonna do it, do it already!" I'm practically screaming at him, now. I try to buck with my hips to get him moving, but with my arms pinned down I can't get much leverage.
Finally, finally he starts to thrust. Slowly. God, I thought I had him riled up enough that he'd be pounding me through the mattress by now. But he's discovered this interesting new form of torture, death by slow fucking, and he's taking full advantage of it. He lets go of one of my hands to reach for something on the nightstand, but before I can react he's pulling my hands behind my back and I hear the snick as he closes the cuffs around my wrists.
I have no control now, and that makes him responsible for both our pleasure. I can't move, I just have to lay there and take whatever he wants to give. But he knows this and he's making it good for both of us. He's riding me hard but slow. He's using his hands on my body, stroking my back and my ass and reaching around to play with my nipples. We're both moaning and my knees are trembling. God he just feels so good. I know he's getting close because he's going faster and he's stroking my cock in time with his thrusts into me. And he's talking.
"Gil�God Gil it's so good. Love you. Love you so much. Gil�Gil�I'm close, so close. Come with me, come with me�now Gil, now!"
It's his words as much as his cock that take me over the edge and I scream his name as we both come and he collapses against my back. My knees finally give out and I fall to the bed with him on top of me. I have an uncomfortable few moments until he recovers enough to unlock my hands. He rubs my shoulders to ease the ache. So considerate of him.
The cuffs have an interesting effect on me. Calming and exhilarating at the same time and I wonder what Lady Heather would think if she could see me now. She called me civilized. No, that's not quite right. She said I enjoyed the superficial trappings of civilization. That's not the same thing as being civilized. Being handcuffed by your lover is not usually considered civilized behavior.
I remember the first time we used them. A few months ago, the department started to require that CSI's carry handcuffs. We still can't serve warrants or arrest people, but their reasoning is that if we were going to be present when arrests were being made we might as well have 'cuffs too. It wasn't nearly so radical a change as when they required us to carry firearms. At least you can play with the 'cuffs at home. That�s what Greg thought anyway. I had gone over to his apartment after work that morning. We had made love and I was starting to drift off to sleep. On his way back from the bathroom, Greg tripped over my pile of clothes on the floor and the 'cuffs fell out. Next thing I know I'm face down with my hands stretched over my head and attached to the headboard. Scary. Not that I thought he was going to hurt me, but scary all the same. He took them off right away when I asked him to.
By then I wasn't tired anymore. Ten minutes before I was sated and almost asleep. At that point I was wide-awake and hard as a rock. Ten minutes after that I was offering up my wrists willingly. That was the first time that Greg topped me too. I didn't know I was into kink. But it wasn't really about kink. It was about trust. Trusting someone else to have control. That�s not me. I'm the one that�s always in control. In control of my emotions, in control of every situation. Because it's hard for me to trust people. It makes me a good investigator, but in my personal life it means that I spent a lot of time alone. If you don't trust your partner, the relationship tends to fall apart after a while.
So that day was a major turning point for Greg and me. We had a couple of false starts before we decided to try a relationship. It had been going well, but there were still some rough spots. We were still tentative with each other. We were both having trouble sharing our feelings, and it was mostly my fault. Because I couldn't share mine, Greg was keeping his repressed, and that�s just not him. So almost by accident we hit on a solution. The first time was wild. I still don't know where I got the courage to let him. I think part of it was that I wanted to prove to him that I did trust him. And I suppose I wanted to prove it to myself also. He didn't disappoint. He was amazing, so attentive, and almost gentle with me. It's like he was worshipping me with his hands and his mouth. I'll never forget the look and his face when he first entered me, like he was in heaven. It was truly an amazing experience.
After that things were almost easy. I opened up to him like I hadn't done with anyone in the past. He knows things about me that no one else does. That�s another thing that Lady Heather perceived about me. I'm afraid of being known. I don't let anyone close enough to see my passions and desires. But I let Greg. He knows me. I've never let anyone restrain me. Not Jim. Not any other man or woman in my life. I've never trusted anyone like that. But I trust Greg, and that's what it's all about.
That�s why I'm so shocked at his jealousy. He should know that I wouldn't cheat on him, I wouldn't betray him�us�like that. He should know that he means more to me than anyone.
(Jim's POV)
I'm face down on the counter, still trussed up and my partner is on the floor barely conscious. I know I'm good, but I didn�t think I was that good.
"Hey Chief, anytime you want to unhook these cuffs is okay with me." No response. "Blair?�Blair are you alright?"
I'm starting to get frantic, now. He's not answering. Maybe he hurt himself when he fell.
Finally he answers. "Yeah I'm okay. Give me a sec to catch my breath." He drags himself up off the floor and over to me and unlocks the 'cuffs. "Are you alright?" he asks me.
"Oh baby, I am way far past alright." I stand and stretch the kinks out of my back. I wrap my arms around him and pull him in for a deep kiss. The kind of kiss that curls his toes and makes him moan. "Do you feel better now?" I ask him.
"Oh baby, I am way far past better." he echo's my comment and we grin at each other.
I'm feeling a bit ridiculous standing in the middle of my kitchen with my pants around my ankles. I release him and pull them up. "So we're okay now? You're not jealous of Gil anymore?"
He considers my question for a moment. I like that he does that. He doesn't just rattle the first answer off the top of his head because he thinks it's what I want to hear "I suppose I was upset because I didn't know about him."
"Blair, that's silly. I'm sure you haven't told me about all of your old lovers."
"Silly? You're calling me silly?"
"Bad choice of words. I meant that no one in my past could ever be as important to me as you are. I love you. Totally. Don't you know that?"
"Yes, I know that. Jim, I know I over reacted today. I didn't let it go when I should have. I'm sorry."
"Then you're not mad?" I really hate it when he's mad at me. We spent so many years dancing around this relationship, and we had a lot of bumps in the road before we got it right, including him dying and giving up his academic career. I don't want him having any reason to be mad at me. "Blair, you know how I was when I met you?"
"A repressed, cynical bastard?"
"Yeah, Sandburg, that would be me. Or at least what I used to be. I was like that when I was with Gil. It was just a fling. It wasn't a real relationship. Just sex. Neither one of us were open to anything more than that."
"Jim, you don't have to explain. I understand. And I don't blame you for finding some kind of comfort with someone else, even if it was just physical. You don't have to justify you actions to me. Do you know how many relationships I've had that were just sex? Hell you've seen me go through some of them. That was the past. You don't have to feel guilty about it. It doesn't affect us and what we are to each other."
I was so glad to here him say that. Now I know we're on the same page.
"Actually, I've been imaging you two together and it kind of turns me on."
What did he just say? He's turned on by thoughts of me and my old lover? We're not on the same page. We're not even in the same book.
(Greg's POV)
We're lying there sweaty and sated. Gil's turned over and is on his side with his arm thrown over my chest and his face burrowed into my neck. I can feel his breath warm in my ear, and for a moment I think he's drifted off to sleep.
"Greg?"
Okay, I guess he's not asleep. "Yes?"
"I love you."
I grin at the ceiling. "I know."
"Do you? Do you believe it?" He wants to do serious, not just the rote 'I-love-you-I-love-you- too' expressions that people exchange all the time.
"Yes, I believe it. And I love you too."
"Then what happened today?"
I was hoping to avoid this conversation for a while. I feel a little silly about the way I was acting today. I know he has no real interest in renewing anything with Ellison. If he had wanted to take up with an old lover, he had that chance before we finally got together.
"I don't know, Gil. I saw you smiling at him and you seemed so happy to see him. And he is a gorgeous man. I got jealous. I know neither of us has spoken much about old lovers, and I guess I was just imagining the two of you together. How you met, and stuff you used to do together. I mean he knew you when you were young and uninhibited�"
"No he didn't." Gil interrupts me. "I was younger, yes, but I was inhibited. I was emotionally repressed and so was he. He didn�t really know me at all."
"Really?"
He sighs and I feel the puff of air across my cheek. "Do you really want to know?"
Part of me wants to know part of me doesn't. "Yeah I guess we should talk about it."
He rolls away from me and sits up. He leans back against the headboard and begins to talk. "Let me tell you a little bit about my so called 'relationship' with Jim. For the first week, we just worked together. I paired each of the cadets up with an investigator, but I kept Jim with me. He just seemed to have a presence. He was intimidating and I thought he might be a problem, so I didn't want any of my people trying to deal with that. But he wasn't a problem case, just a little antisocial."
"Sounds familiar."
"Hey, be nice. I'm a fun guy."
"Now you're a fun guy, thanks to me."
"Do you want to hear the story or not?"
"Sorry, please continue."
"So for the first week, it was just work. Then that Friday the other three guys were making plans to go bar hoping and trying to convince Jim to go with them, but he just wasn't interested. So I invited him to my place for dinner. I really have no idea why I asked. I wasn't even thinking about sleeping with him."
"Yeah, right." I smirk.
"Of course I noticed that he was an attractive man. But I wasn't looking to start anything, not really. Or maybe I was. It's hard to analyze my intentions from twelve years ago. But anyway, we went to my place, had some dinner, had sex in my kitchen, then he left. Then on Sunday he came over and watched the game, we had sex on my sofa, and then he left. On Wednesday we went out to a little Chinese place in the neighborhood, had sex in the parking lot, then he went home. Are you seeing a pattern here?"
Oh. I'm seeing things, not necessarily patterns, though. My brain immediately begins to imagine Gil bending Jim over a kitchen table. Or Gil kneeling on a sofa with Jim behind him. Or them trading blowjobs in a cramped front seat of a car in a dark parking lot.
"Is that the way the whole relationship went?"
"Yes, the whole four months, maybe three or four times a week. Half the time we didn't even make it to the bed. He spent the night once and that was only because he fell asleep before he had the chance to get up and get dressed. It was entirely physical. I didn't know anything about him and I didn't tell him anything about me. It was just sex. When he went back to Washington, we didn't even keep in touch."
Gil is a very private man and he doesn't let a lot of people in. It took a long time for us to get together. We worked together for three years, and had a couple of false starts before he finally let me in. But when he did let me in, he let me all the way in. I thought back over the last few months, about all that I knew about him. I know about his family, about how much he misses his mother. About the arguments that he had with his father. About the sister that he doesn't get to see often enough.
I know that he likes bacon with his pancakes and strawberry jam on his toast. I know that orange juice gives him heartburn, but orange-mango juice is okay.
Apparently Jim didn't know all this stuff about him. Didn�t know what he looked like with the morning sun shining on his face. And didn't know that when he sleeps on his back he snores, but if he�s on his side he doesn�t. I'm starting to feel sorry for Jim.
"Any regrets about that?"
He grinned at me and stroked my cheek. "No, no regrets. That�s what I wanted at that point in my life. Now I want more."
I smiled back at him. "You deserve more, Gil. And now you've got it."
He kissed me then. "No more jealousy, then?"
"I think I got over the jealousy in the truck this afternoon when you were whispering in my ear."
He kissed me again. "Good. Now no more talking or thinking about Jim tonight."
"If you didn't want me thinking about Jim, you shouldn't have told that story so well. I have these images in my head now." I kiss him back, easing my tongue into his mouth while I run my hand up the inside of his leg.
He breaks the kiss. "Images? What images?"
I roll over and get to my knees and straddle him, balancing myself with my hands on his shoulders as I lower myself onto him. "Oh, images of you and Jim and a kitchen table." I grinned at him before I dive in to suck on his neck.
"Greg? Are you okay"
"Very okay." I said as I ground my crotch into his.
"Are you�are you getting turned on picturing me with another man." He asked incredulously.
"Seems that way." I tell him as I work my way down to his nipples. He's getting a bit unfocused and I can feel his cock starting to respond. I look at him, stare straight into his eyes. "Tell me about it." I whisper.
He looks momentarily stunned. "About Jim and me?"
'Tell me about your first time together." We've played this game before, but it's usually me telling him my fantasies. "Gil, we have done this sort of thing before."
"Yes, but its usually just fantasy. This was real." His blue eyes looked troubled. "This morning you were so jealous, and now you want to ravish me while I tell you about fucking him."
"You've told me that there was no emotional involvement, that it was just sex. I believe you. You love me and I love you, and nothing that happened in either of our pasts is going to affect that. Right?"
"Right."
"We've used fantasy in our sex life before. Even acted out some of them. You like the 'cuffs. And you were pretty cool about the chocolate sauce."
He still looks unsure.
"This isn't so different. So it's something that actually happened, instead of something we made up."
"You really want to hear about me with another man?"
"Haven't you ever pictured me with another man?"
"No, of course not!" He sounds so indignant.
"Never? Never ever?" He won't meet my eyes, and I see a flush creep up his cheeks. I think I'm on to something. "You have, haven't you. Imagined me with someone else. So in your fantasies, do you just watch, or do you join in?" The flush on his face deepens. Oh, I'm embarrassing the hell out of him now. He always tries to be so proper, so dignified. Now I know he's been having nasty fantasies about me doing other men. "Come on Gil, you want to let me in on it?"
"No." He gets up off the bed and storms into the bathroom.
Okay so maybe he's a little pissed. I guess I switched lanes on him too quickly.