Gil/Greg slash

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It wasn't the kind of place he frequented often, but tonight Greg Sanders needed it. The smoky air and the burn of the Tequila at the back of his throat was a comfort to him. Especially tonight. Today had been the worst day of his career. He'd failed his proficiency, and disappointed his self in the process. The worst part of it all though was that he disappointed the one person whose opinion he actually gave a damn about. Grissom.

He wasn't sure why he idolized Gil so much. Maybe it was just a nasty case of hero worship, or something equally inane. It didn't much matter what it was, it didn't change the fact that he'd let Gil down. He'd seen it in the older man's eyes when he'd delivered the news to him earlier. There was a flicker of something else there too, something Greg couldn't identify. Probably pity he reasoned to him self.

"Hey," he said attracting the bartender's attention. "Lemme get another."

"You sure that's such a good idea?" asked a voice behind him. He didn't bother to turn around, knowing what he'd see. One Dr. Gilbert Grissom standing in the middle of a shady bar in the heart of Las Vegas looking completely out of his element.

"Let me guess," Greg started, licking salt off the back of his hand. "You just happened to be in the neighborhood and decided 'what the hell? Haven't heard any good blues in a while." Greg swallowed the shot that had just been placed in front of him, and began to chew on a slice of lime.

"Actually I was looking for you." Greg felt the barstool next to him shift, and didn't have to look up to know that Grissom was next to him.

"Well you found me," he said dryly, not looking at his boss. He refused to admit that it gave him a slight thrill to know Grissom had been looking for him.

"That I did," Grissom agreed. "Are you drinking because you failed your proficiency, or because you enjoy analyzing DNA with a raging hang over?"

Greg rolled his eyes. What a time for this guy to develop a sense of humor. "I am drinking just for the hell of it. I'm not drunk." Yet.

"What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say."

"Look Gris, I know it's your MO and all, but maybe we could skip the cryptic quotes. Just for tonight."

"Fair enough. How much have you had?" Gil asked gesturing to the glass in Greg's hand.

"This makes seven," the younger man told him tossing down another shot.

Grissom nodded and laid a few bills down on the bar top. "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

"Nice gesture, but I'm not leaving yet. I'm having too much fun right here with all my new friends," Greg slurred pointing to all the empty stools around them.

"You're definitely done here. Can you stand?" Gil watched as the younger man slowly got off the barstool, and swayed a bit. He wrapped an arm around his waist to steady him, "You okay Greggo?"

"Sure, I'm just a cheap drunk." Greg was only vaguely aware of being led to the door, and buckled into the passenger seat of Gil's Tahoe. "What about my car?"

Gil looked around the parking lot, "Which one is yours?"

"The gorgeous red Camero."

"Greg, the only Camero I see is that one," he pointed to a beat up red car.

Greg leaned forward and focused his eyes, "Yep that's Greta. 1986 was a great year for Cameros don't you think?"

Grissom arched an eyebrow, but didn't answer the question. "Where do you live Greg?"

"7-B."

"What apartment building Greg?" Grissom asked exasperated.

"Same as Sara."

"You live in Sara's building?"

"Oh yeah," Greg said leaning back against the headrest.

Grissom shook his head and drove to the familiar building. He looked over to find Greg sound asleep with his face pressed against the window. He sighed loudly and climbed out of the SUV. He opened the passenger side door causing Greg to fall against the graying man's chest. Grissom sat him up and reached across his lap to undo the seatbelt.

"I knew you had a thing for me."

Grissom looked up in surprise. Greg was staring back at him. "Uh oh, hit a nerve. It's okay Gris, I'm an extremely good looking man, and I have a sparkling personality."

Grissom stared incredulously at the young man in front of him. "Greg you're drunk." Grissom pulled him out of the Tahoe and to his feet.

"And you're…straight?"

"I didn't say that." They walked towards the building, Greg stumbling alongside his boss.

"So you're gay then?"

"I didn't say that either."

"Oh," Greg said like it had just dawned on him. "You're not a can, no labels."

"Do you have keys to the front door?"

"Right here," Greg announced pulling a key ring out of his pocket. He unlocked the door with amazing dexterity, and began to climb up the stairs on all fours. Gil grudgingly followed and found Greg waiting at the top of the stairs singing softly. Gil took the key ring out of Greg's hand and unlocked the door to 7-B. He hesitantly opened the door, unsure of what he would find. He was surprised to see a normal looking living room with a black sectional, a big screen TV, and various framed movie posters hanging on the walls.

"Scary huh?" Greg asked close to his ear.

"It's not what I expected," Gil admitted.

"My mom decorated it for me," Greg said walking past Grissom. He shrugged his jacket off and tossed it over the back of the couch. "I'm going to bed. You can come if you want, just don't expect to get any. I'm too drunk to put out." Greg disappeared behind a door, leaving Gil standing shocked in the living room. Did Greg just hit on him?

Gil heard a thump from the bedroom and was on his way to check on him, when a picture on the coffee table caught his eye. He picked it up to get a better look. It was a picture of Greg leaning over a birthday cake, another man behind him, with his arm's wrapped around Greg's waist and his chin resting on Greg's shoulder. The picture had been taken mid laugh, and suddenly he felt like he was intruding on a very private moment. He replaced the picture, and continued on to the bedroom, giving a brief knock before entering.

The room was painted a dark midnight blue color, and the only furniture was a king-size bed, and a dresser. The room was as cold as a meat locker due to the window unit cranked to high. "Greg?" he called not seeing the drunk man anywhere.

"In here!" came the muffled reply. Gil looked around and found the only obvious choice, a door a few feet away from him. He pulled the door open and a very drunk Greg Sanders fell on top of him, knocking them both to the floor.

"Ouch!" Greg moaned rubbing his head. "That hurt! You okay Gris? Gris?"

"I'm under you Greg," Gil hissed. Greg quickly rolled off Gil and to the floor.

"Sorry," Greg said with a goofy smile. "I was trying to find some pajamas."

It was at that moment that Gil realized Greg was wearing only Scooby Doo boxers, and a nipple ring. He groaned and let his head fall back against the floor.

"Gil?" Greg asked. "You okay?" He ignored Greg and closed his eyes. Sometimes his life was just too unreal to believe.

"Hey, are you unconscious?"

"No Greggo," he said sitting up slowly. "I'm fine." Greg sat up and looked at Grissom. "Are you sure? What if your brain is bleeding and you die in your sleep? It'd be all my fault!"

"Greg!" Gil said grabbing the sides of the other man's face. "I'm fine. I do not have anything wrong with my brain. I will not die in my sleep. Nothing will be your fault. Okay?"

Greg nodded slowly, and Gil released his face. In a second Grissom was pinned to the floor with Greg on top of him. "Greg what are –" All words were cut off when Greg pressed his lips to the to Gil's. Gil froze as Greg's tongue touched his bottom lip and slid into his mouth. Gil snapped out of his shock and pushed Greg off him.

"Oops," Greg giggled.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded of the other man who looked very pleased with his self.

"Well, I wanted to kiss you, but then I thought 'probably shouldn't' then I decided that I shouldn't listen to myself because I'm drunk."

Gil sat up and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You really need to sleep this off Greg." Gil stood up and pulled the covers on the bed back. "C'mon," he gestured.

Greg crawled into the bed and pulled the covers up around his neck. "Night night."

Gil made sure Greg's alarm was set before switching out the lights. He repressed the urge to laugh as he saw the hundreds of glow in the dark plastic stars that adorned Greg's ceiling. They cast an eerie green glow around the room, and over Greg as he slept peacefully. He let him self out of the apartment silently, and turned to find a very shocked Sara watching him.

"I can explain," he started, but stopped when she held up her hand.

She gave him her signature smirk, "It's about damn time."

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He he he. I love Gil and Greg together. They're so cute…Not sure if I'll continue this, or leave it, let me know in a review. Thanks Emilia