Nick's voice, as smooth as whiskey but slightly harsh from being force fed sleeping pills while trying to get shut eye in the hospital, halted at the front door. "I had Sara bring the truck back. I didn't want to leave it at the hospital. We'll already be paying an arm and a leg for the stay."

"I'm glad you thought of it. Though I do miss flying high on the morphine. I hope Sara didn't mind the state of the truck. I hadn't had a chance to clean out my Burger King wrappers or your old coffee cups with the sunflower seeds."

The key clicked in the lock as Nick pushed the door open with his free hand. "I'm pretty sure she didn't mind."

The house smelled like shortbread cookies and apples. Greg called out into the dimness of the calm, cool exterior. "Hey Sara, you here?"

Nick peeked around into the living room. "Here. I'll take your coat and the bag."

"Alright." Nick's hands and arms roamed around Greg's windbreaker with silent permission and filled the space between his chest and his ribcage. Nick's breathing fell right under the nape of his neck. His ribs were tender, but he didn't care. Nick had a light heat to his touch that felt soothing, especially after a long day.

Greg whispered low. "You'd better get the coat or Sara's gonna be treated to a show, gaucho."

Nick chuckled in response as one of Greg's shoulders rolled gingerly, leaving Nick standing in the entry way of their home, holding a light blue windbreaker from a vacation to Chicago and a bag from Vons holding a couple of groceries and some Icy Hot, along with their prescriptions. He set them down on the coat recliner.

The coat recliner was so called because it was one of the only things that Greg would not part with when they moved in together. It was a light blue cushy monstrosity that had been his first major purchase at his apartment in Vegas and pretty much only served to hold as a coat rack now when people from the lab came over and, on a seldom occasion, a friend from college.

"Guessing she's not here?"

Nick looked across the entryway and saw Greg with half a cookie hanging out of his mouth. "Mahurha hasurasur."

Nick shook his head and took the card in one of Greg's hands as his live in boyfriend swallowed the cookie. "Oh, its a card from Sara." Scanning the card, he read her note about feeding the dogs in the back and about the wickless candles she had kept forgetting to bring them since their housewarming shinding.

"I said, really thoughtful but made me hungry."

Nick nodded in agreement as he sighed. "Still, nice to be home and to not have it smell like rotten food."

Greg crooked an eyebrow. "Felt longer than three days for you?"

"You were high on morphine, Greggo. A week could've passed before you crashed."

"Calling me a lightweight, Nicky?"

Nick smiled innocently. "You were when I met you."

Greg made a point in the air with his index finger. "That's it! I'm getting the Kahlua and coffee!"

Nick bared his teeth at the thought. "Not with your medication you're not, mister."

Greg folded his arms. "Oh yeah, and who's gonna stop me?"

"Stupid question, Sanders..."

But Greg was already halfway out of the room when Nick began to advance playfully. Greg was sprinting away like a graceful gazelle and he made it a little over halfway up the stairs when he got a cramp in his calf. Nick saw him as he exited the kitchen and started to bark out a laugh that made his ribs ache. He coughed hard as he grabbed for his side.

"Isn't this great? Two old and broken geezers...."

Nick moved toward the stairs, rummaging in the bag for the Icy Hot rub first. "Speak for yourself, Greggo."

Greg moved up the stairs slowly, trying to shake the cramp from his leg. "Fine. You can be old and I'll be the broken one."

Nick started to retort but Greg was already up the stairs and it probably would have been wasted on the wind. Nick shrugged and followed, pressing the bandage over his ribcage so that it would heal properly. It was mostly cosmetic and itched like hell, but he forgot all about the itching as he entered their bedroom. Greg was thrashing about, unable to get his shirt all the way over his head. His neck and one shoulder were still responding to the jarring pain of the accident pretty badly.

As much as Nick was amused by the situation, it only served as a reminder of how frail a human body could be, as though Nick Stokes needed another reminder of that. Especially seeing the display of colored bruises all over his lover's body. "Need some help?"

"I've got it," came the muffled reply from beneath the shirt; followed a moment later by, "perhaps some help would be appreciated."

Nick slid the shirt over Greg's head to find that Greg's messy hair hadn't ruffled at all in transit. "Hey there."

Greg smiled warmly. "Hey there, you. Thanks for the help."

"Anytime. I even brought up the rubbing stuff."

Greg lit up at the sight of the Icy Hot balm. "My savior."

Greg's jump on the bed was a mite too enthusiastic. Nick responded appropriately as he began to work on the buttons on his now dingy grey, what used to once be considered light blue, button down. "Feels good to be home."

Greg fell backwards with a happy whump, arms stretched over their comforter with the giant picture of the English pointer dog that leg to their window which was next to their curtains which flowed over their chest of drawers on a day with high winds. "Yeah. Should we order in?"

"You really that hungry? I could do a casserole."

Greg sat up, admiring the way the bandage wrapped around Nick's muscular body. "On second thought, I think there's something else I'm hungry for."

"Tacos? Enchiladas? I've got that old....oh." Nick halted as he realized that Greg's eyes were roaming over his physique.

Greg had long since mastered Gil's "why don't you understand what I'm talking about" look. Greg's voice took on a very low tone, as though he were still embarrassed to voice certain thoughts. "I think that stay was the first time we were apart since this whole relationship started."

Nick shrugged. "Guess so. But it can feel like longer sometimes when we're on different shifts or one of us conks out on the couch or..."

Greg stood slowly, walking over and running his finger from Nick's shoulder to the bandage across his barrel of a chest. "Yeah. But, at least then, I can cuddle into you. I was all alone in that crowded room for three days. High on morphine or not, I missed you."

The only way to relieve the knot building in Nick's throat was to kiss Greg. To hold him as tight as he could without breaking something and to kiss him, tongue excluded. Greg stood there, taking the contact gratefully and molding himself into Nick's body. They broke apart only when the slow movement of Nick's body made Greg's knees bump into the back of the bed.

"We should use the Icy Hot first." Greg whispered.

"Why? I've got plenty of adrenaline running right now."

Greg chuckled. "Down cowboy. We've got all day. You're worse than a frat boy after pledge week."

"I was a frat boy, Greggo."

Nick knelt in and felt Greg burrow their foreheads together until he could feel the lines of tension meeting and smoothing away. Greg's hands interlocked behind Nick's neck so neither could move far. "Don't remind me. Already want you pretty bad, Nick."

Nick smiled in a way that lit the whole darkened room. "You can have me, bud. All of it. Whenever, whatever you want. But medication first."

Greg rolled his eyes. "Your the boss. But I warn you, I will try all the techniques of seduction."

"I think I can live with that."

Nick moved past, barely letting skin touch, as he sat on the edge of the bed and patted it, waiting patiently for Greg. Greg didn't move right away. "So...you're just gonna watch me undress?"

Nick shook his head. "Greggo, I've seen you in a lot less clothing."

"Yeah, well, I...."

Nick recognized the hard blush rising from the slim lines of his boyfriend's collar bones up unto his neck. It was the way of him asking for help without being able to ask for help. If a man ever had a poker tell, that blush in Greg's body was it. It had been there, that night after....well, Nick knew he'd never be able to move again if he started thinking about that.

In truth though, Greg knew how to play on Nick's natural instinct. Nick wasn't like most men, didn't gain as much from physical stimuli. He was a thinker, a contemplationist, and in many cases-a sweet talker to find more information. He was invested and found the investment more exciting than the return. Greg knew he would win just as surely as Nick had craned his neck the other way, pretending to read the label on the Icy Hot.

Nick still wasn't used to the slow pop of zippers in his vicinity. During college, it was a hurried tally count that had been drowned out by the near silence of his CSI graveyard shift. Now, he had warmth and someone to debate with who was frighteningly smart when he wasn't distracted by an almost innocuous segue of some kind.

Greg shrugged. "You can look now."

Nick refused to let the sexual frustration he was feeling through Greg's tease get too far. He had waited three days too and was certain he could wait even more time if necessary. He had waited for Greg to mellow, to wise up for long enough. And he had won then too, even with the unfortunate addition of the mustache bet, which they no longer talked about.

Mercifully, the tip of Greg's cock was hidden from its dance in the boxer slits, the same green and blue plaid with tiny sombreros that Sara had given him as a joke one birthday, as he laid down on his side of the bed with face buried in his pillow. Greg inhaled the scent, his scent. Zest soap with just a hint of coffee and orange. Deep, playful, and unique.

No matter what, it had been enough to catch the eye of Nick Stokes. And now the muscled hunk was rubbing ointment on the back of Greg's legs and Greg was thanking his lucky stars for the pain if only that meant he was forced to calm down before jumping Nick's body until they were tangled together in a cocoon of heat that he never wanted to be awakened from.

Nick started slowly, swirling intently with his index and middle finger. Like a paint brush, he moved against the groaning muscle in Greg's skin. The medicinal scent of the Icy Hot had a buzz to it, he remembered, that he had asked his mom once why he smelled like root beer afterwards. He seemed to be the only one who preferred to think of the scent that way.

Greg's hand slid against the cotton sheets until they reached Nick's forearms. Greg turned his head to watch Nick's intent work. Before Nick reached in for his next dip, Greg grabbed his fingers and intertwined them. At this point, his hard-on was full blown and Greg wouldn't have been surprised if Nick could see his ass rearing way up into the air.

Nick felt guilty for inspiring that look in Greg's eyes. He had always felt alone, that was the product of being your family's middle child and no more smarter or more talented than any of the others. He had done the chores, he had studied hard and said what graces were expected of him. He had gotten into trouble with his first rust red Chevy truck the night he had gone out for a ride with Becky Tanden and came back with nothing more than a hicky and whooping by her older brothers for the trouble.

But Greg's look brought him crashing down into the bed. It was somewhere beyond lust and need. Sure enough, they had talked about loving each other and living together and someday adopting when their schedules permitted, but there was really no pressure for either since neither of them were only children. Nick had trouble looking at anyone the way Greg looked at him and it hurt him that Greg accepted such a fact. He wanted to look at Greg with that same deep and almost focused gaze of there being no one else in the world. He would have given anything for it.

The most he could do was to let the ointment fall from his fingers somewhere onto the bed. He could grab Greg gingerly into a bear hug, arms wrapped around his waist as best as was possible, and kiss him hard. A possessive kiss was all Nick could offer at the moment. Memories from the accident riddled him enough that he had to hold his baby tighter until he heard the groan emanate from Greg's lips.

Greg broke apart from Nick's lips, working his own together as if they were rusty. He burrowed his forehead into Nick's own, looking for a sign of hardness beyond his lover's belt. Finding it there, silent and waiting, made Greg happy and secure in the knowledge that he could still be something that a nearly perfect man like Nick could ever want or need.

Nick's teeth worked their way down Greg's chest, kneading the skin tenderly. Greg groaned, his hand trying to find the back of Nick's head if only to be sure Nick was actually there with him and this was not one of the hundred other fantasies he'd had before, or sometimes since, they had gotten together. Those days were still vivid, the way he'd wake up panicked and sometimes sweating, disorientation on its heals.

But Nick was there, murmuring pleasantly as he took in the edges of bruises across Greg's skin that heightened his senses delicately. There was no point in being modest. Greg's hard-on had already blossomed out of the slit of the boxer, but he blushed nonetheless when Nick's fingers, still smelling of ointment until he wiped them on his jeans, slid the boxers down to a point past Greg's knees where they could be kicked off.

Nick slid down on the bed just a bit, using his change in position to grab Greg's ass and bring the hard cock to his mouth. Greg knew the grip in his lover's hands, as if he were holding Greg stationary so he wouldn't float away. Greg shuddered and moaned the second Nick's tongue rolled its way over Greg's cock, seeming to inhale a little over half the eight inch piece of meat. While constantly debating whether or not he wanted to know why Nick was so good at blowing, he would never know exactly how disappointing the answer would be. At the start of his CSI path, Nick had excelled in biology from a long-term study of central nervous systems sponsored by his dad. He had just taken his learning and applied it. That application, as it turned out, easily made Greg's vision go blurry with pleasure.

Greg let out a hiss when his hip started acting up, hoping that Nick would think it was just another emphatically euphoric response to his skill. But Nick was not fooled. He could sense the tense tenderness in Greg's body, as though he were a taut piece of rope. Backing his head away, he looked up into Greg's eyes and looked at him with a bit of intrigue.

"What?"

"You're letting me hurt you for pleasure."

"Damn it, Nick! Three days of morphine! Three days in a room with a whole bunch of sterile people poking and prodding and plastering where they pretty much didn't belong. I think I deserve this!"

"Maybe so, but perhaps I'll just put another coat of the Icy Hot on before granting a continuance."

Nick felt around the sheets for the small tub of goop, but Greg snatched it away first, feeling very passionately about being pulled from his haze for medical care. "I think I'd rather just get natural healing, thanks."

"Those endorphins run out eventually."

Greg rolled his eyes. "If thats the way you want it Stokes, I'll decide who gets rubbed around here."

Nick shrugged, moving his hands over his bandage slightly enough so that he could rip it away, leaving the somewhat reddened and splotchy purple spot open to the air but hardly to infection. He let his hands ripple over the tender spot before craning them over his head and grabbing the natural openings in the headboard. "Okay man, just massage however you think best."

Greg blinked, wondering if he was understanding this correctly. All of a sudden, the bell went off in his head and he held the balm aloft, as though it was going to give him great secrets. "You were planning this. You seduced me."

Nick grinned. "Never mess with the master, kiddo. Now get rubbing."

Greg tried to fake a grumble but ultimately failed. He recalled how often he had gone to so many lengths to get as much of a sexual response out of Nick. Its not that he didn't have them, its just that they were only as deep as any other emotion he possessed. Nick's inner wolf could easily take upwards of an hour to get revved up. Greg wished he could blame it on interest, but it wasn't interest at all. The interest was most definitively there in the way Nick held him or surprised him with his favorite dinners or a box of Pop-Tarts, frosted blueberry.

Nick sighed and bucked happily when Greg's fingers slid across his ribcage with the warming goo that made his muscles relax. Greg's fingers tracked lightly over the display of bruises and tiny cuts that had been cleaned and healed, leaving scars that only Greg would ever see. Nick's nipples reacted to the touch and Greg was pretty sure he was only getting a reaction at all because Nick had been so worried about Greg from the morphine and the three day hospital stay. He imagined the nurses had almost had to restrain him to keep him from being in the same room when he woke up and Greg was still a day away in morphine land.

Greg liked that idea very much. Just restraining Nick and watching his body heave nonchalantly as if to say that he could break out of the bonds anytime. But that could wait for some other time. Nick was up for pretty much anything that didn't involve another person and blindfolds. Greg was understanding, if not grateful that he was enough.

Greg's hands snuck deftly past the rib cage and then the tummy with just a hint of fur until his knuckles slid against Nick's zipper. Massaging and moving the teeth apart slowly, Nick squirmed against the headboard until he couldn't stand it and pretty much jumped out of the jeans. He sighed as if to say "there, I concede, master of seduction."

Greg purred. "There you are."

The ridges on the underside of Nick's cock that housed the veins of release were already standing out against Greg's grasp. Greg knew how to move slowly and then quickly, just enough to roll the partial bit of extra skin that could make Nick bite down on his lower lip.

Nick breathed in between gasps. "And there you are, baby."

The way he said baby made Greg blush enough that he knew what Nick wanted and he knew that his lover needed it bad, and Greg didn't mind. Nick watched absentmindedly as Greg's fingers trailed lightly back upwards and past his ribcage. Winking and swiftly extending his arm to the bedside, he grabbed a small tube of lube and a light blue sensitive Trojan condom.

Nick's voice was suddenly hoarse. "You sure?"

Greg's voice reacted a bit wryly. "Do I have to do my rendition of ride'em cowboy?"

Nick felt his arms react, grabbing Greg tenderly and pulling him up to his pillow so they were closer than nose to nose. He could taste the last crumbs of cookie mixed with the taste of his own heat and he didn't want to leave. His body was tense with sexual need and as much as he wanted to wait, he wasn't surprised when he slipped the condom out of Greg's hand and broke the wrapper in half. Their tongues dodged and dipped in each others mouths, leaving nothing but the sound of two intertwined breaths in the silent house.

Nick rolled the condom slowly down over his length, just quickly enough so that he could stay hard without letting go too far. He had forgotten how much he liked having Greg with him, how even with a light touch that Greg could make the hair on his arm stand on end, among other things.

"Fingers first?"

Greg shook his head. "Three fucking days. Just go slow."

Nick nodded, fumbling slightly with the lube before riding it along the length of his clad cock. Greg gulped suddenly and then tried to relax when he felt the tip of Nick's hardness against his hole. Nick reared up his hip, his cock working its way up Greg's ass, snaking into that spot.

Greg hummed with the sensation of fusion between them. Nick settled in, that sheathed vein of pleasure along the top of his cock hitting a sensitive spot in Greg that aligned with wherever Nick was hitting on his prostate. Greg's left arm grabbed the back of Nick's neck while his leg moved limply over Nick's hip, just low of Nick's bruise.

Nick squirmed until he found a comfortable place to start pumping. Greg gasped with each gentle push until they were centered and Nick let out a groan just a hair lighter than his normal tone of voice. Their bodies mashed and groaned, thrashing in concert and tingling with anticipation of release. Greg's kissed his lover deeply, hearing the hum in his throat that made the throb in his muscles so complete.

Greg felt one final thrust from Nick before Nick's right leg trembled, letting go just as their knees touched. Nick's hard ejaculation made the bridge of his nose squint and he groaned into Greg's mouth. It was perfect enough that Greg didn't really feel himself cum until the aftermath, laying alongside the sticky part of Nick's chest.

"I don't wanna move." Nick stated as he let out a content sigh.

Greg let his head cradle into Nick's arm. "Good."