A/N: As usual, I own nothing CSI. Sad, but true.
This is just a little one shot I thought up after watching an episode of Warehouse 13 a few weeks ago where Mikah went undercover as a model.
Pictures
A pair of strong Texan arms snaked around Greg's neck, crossing over his chest, and "Morning baby!" was whispered in his ear, even though it was nearly seven p.m.
Twisting his head towards the voice, Greg planted a kiss on the other man's cheek, before turning back to his contemplation of the photographs spread out before him on the kitchen table.
Picking one up for closer inspection, Nick pulled away from Greg to take a seat beside him. "Oh, are these the pictures from the shoot two weeks ago?"
"Uh-huh. Katie dropped them off a while ago," Greg replied, eyeing the older man to gauge his reaction to the proof he was looking at.
"I still can't believe this was on your bucket list, G," Nick smiled lovingly at the younger man, before picking up another photo.
"Yeah, well, I still can't believe Katie got you into it, too." Pushing the photos into a pile in front of Nick, Greg then picked up the envelope they'd been delivered in, and pulled out another stack of photos.
This stack had a sticky note attached to the top photo. Nick and Greg, it read. These were just a few candids I got that I thought the two of you would enjoy. Just don't get them mixed up with the proofs for the ad, or you may end up with serious explaining to do.
As Greg was looking through the candids, Nick glanced up from his own perusal of the proofs. "Hey, G?"
"Hmm?"
"If I remember right, I was promised my own private show."
When Greg looked over at Nick, he discovered a playful smile and a twinkle in the deep brown eyes he could lose himself in.
A wide smile spread across his own face as he thought about the suit he'd stashed in the back of the closet for this very reason.
"You're right. I did," he replied, trying to hide his excitement while he finished looking through his stack of photos. Tonight was perfect. They both were off from work.
Setting the stack near Nick, he leaned in to whisper in his ear, "Finish looking at these, then go make yourself comfortable on the couch."
The tips of the Texan's ears turned red with desire at the implications of Greg's words.
As Greg turned away, he said, "Whatever you do, don't mix up those two stacks." Then from down the hall, he hollered, "Push the coffee table out of the way."
Trying to ignore the pleasant rush of blood to a certain area of his body, Nick picked up the second stack of photos.
The first one on the stack was from the first part of the shoot. He and Greg had both been outfitted in dark business suits. His was a deep charcoal gray, and Greg's was a nearly midnight blue.
In among the ad proofs, there was a photo of the two of them, standing back to back, arms crossed over their chests, very professional looking.
This photo had been snapped just after the other, only this time, Greg had turned and wound his arms around Nick's waist. Nick had a shy smile on his face, and Greg was kissing his neck.
The next photo in the pile was also of them in the suits. This one had been taken prior to the ad appropriate one, as Greg had worked on getting Nick to relax.
They stood at arms length, fingers intertwined. Nick could remember Greg saying something funny, but couldn't remember reacting with the open mouthed smile, so he must have been mid laugh when the photo was taken.
The next photos were from the second half of the shoot. Pictures for a Fruit of the Loom ad.
Katie had known about Greg's scars when she'd asked him to model for her. She had told them that she'd be sure to get only front shots, or have Greg wear undershirts that would conceal the scars, as he was still highly self conscious of them.
In the end, both men had decided to only allow pictures for the suit ad to be put in the magazine. They didn't want there to be any question of their professionalism, since they both worked for the Las Vegas Crime Lab.
Katie had still sent them a few of the candids from that part of the shoot.
Looking back, Nick couldn't believe they'd been able to pull off that half of the shoot, and finally chalked up their lack of reaction to each other as being due to nerves.
Nick's favorite photo had both men sporting gray boxer briefs. It must have been Nick's turn to calm Greg's nerves, because in the picture, Nick had a calming hand on Greg's shoulder that was closest to the camera.
They were side on to the camera, so only the barest amount of pink and white mottled flesh could be seen on Greg's back and shoulders.
The camera had caught Nick in the act of placing a gentle, reassuring kiss to some of the exposed scar tissue on Greg's back.
Greg's face was tilted slightly up, lips parted just a little, eyes closed. His arms had just begun to loosen their hold, where he'd had them wrapped tightly around himself.
"You get that coffee table moved yet? I'm about ready!" Greg called from their bedroom.
Setting this stack of photos aside, Nick stood and hurried to the livingroom.
Once he'd moved the coffee table and settled himself comfortably on the couch, Nick called out, "All set, G!"
Greg, clad in the same midnight blue suit from the shoot, walked confidently into the livingroom. He had the suit jacket tossed jauntily over one shoulder by a finger.
And Nick knew this show wasn't going to last long, as his body instantly began to respond to the proximity of his lover.
Greg responded to Nick's gruff, "Come here!"
As the younger man straddled Nick's hips, hands resting on Nick's broad chest, Nick managed to rasp, "Pictures do not do your beauty justice, G!" before claiming Greg's lips with his own.