Disclaimer: I don't own CSI 'DAMMIT!' Now that I've gotten that out, let's get on with the story.

CHAPTER ONE

Greg sighed as he tugged on his jacket. He grabbed his backpack from his locker before closing it. He knew he'd go home, eat, change into his pajamas, brush his teeth, and then crash. Only thing different from the rest of the week was that he wouldn't be setting his alarm. He'd been setting his alarm clock early to help Warrick and Nick catch someone killing innocent little children.

'Thank god it's over. I thought Nick was going to explode.' Greg thought, 'I hope he's okay. Blowing up would not be good for his hot bod.' Nick never did well with cases involving children. Well, no one did, but Nick always took it to heart.

"Greg!" Speak of the devil. Greg turned around to see a smiling Nick jog 'Why the freak isn't he tired!' up to him. "Hey, you wanna go out to Bernie's Bar with me, Warrick, and Gris?" he asked. Greg thought about it. 'Well, gee, go out with three hot dudes to a bar or go home and spend the weekend by myself . . . Hmm, which sounds better?'

You paying?" Greg asked and Nick's smile got a little bigger, his eyes crinkling.

"I guess I could pay. After all, you've been working overtime in the lab to help me and Rick with the case." Greg really had been all week, helping at any hour he could. He might only be a lab tech with spiky hair and a love for coffee, but Greg had wanted to catch this guy as much as Nick and Warrick had.

"Alright, I guess I'll meet you at Bernie's." Greg smiled, and the two walked out to their cars. Greg threw his back pack into the passenger seat and then followed Nick to Bernie's Bar. Warrick and Grissom were already seated in a booth with drinks. Gris was laughing, his head back and his body shaking. Greg was mesmerized. An amused Nick walked past the frozen lab tech. When Greg continued to stand there, wide-eyed, he grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him towards the table. Warrick saw the two first.

"Nick! Greg, it's good you're here! Nicky's paying!" At this, Greg nodded still stunned at the sight he had just seen. Well, that was until Grissom raised an eyebrow. 'God, I must look like an idiot,' Greg thought. He sat next to Warrick, as Nick had sat next to Grissom. Nick was outright laughing at him while Warrick was chuckling into his drink.

"What? I've never seen him laugh before!" Greg said incredulously. Warrick shook his head.

"Sure you have. There was . . . uh-" He broke off and stared into space. Clearing his throat he continued. "There was two years ago, actually, wait – uh, nevermind." Greg smiled a smug smile while Nick laughed. Grissom was smiling at Warrick, a knowing look on his face. Greg squished the urge to point and laugh. Instead, he took Warrick's glass, ignoring the man's batting hands and loud 'Hey!', and lifted the glass for a toast.

"Thank God it's Friday!" Greg slammed the shot back.

As Nick kept bringing drinks, the rest of the night got fuzzier. Currently, Greg had his head on Grissom's shoulder. 'Wait – that's weird . . .'

"Hey, Nick, when did we switch?" he asked. Nick chuckled and pulled Greg's drink away from him.

"I think that's enough for you, Greg."

"Oh, come on," he whined. "It's Friday, and I've got nuffin' to do tomorrow. Itsh boring at my plesh." An idea popped into Greg's head. "Hey, can we shumthin fun tomorrow?" Nick, Warrick, and Gil chuckled.

"Like what, Greg?" Grissom asked. The man next to him turned to look at Gil's 'When did he become Gil?' blue eyes. He smiled and nuzzled into Gil's arm.

"Sex."

Greg woke up with a crick in his neck. He groaned as he sat up on the couch. 'Wait – couch?' Greg opened his eyes to find that one – he was, in fact, on a couch, two – it wasn't his couch, and three – it wasn't even his house. Spying the coffee machine in the kitchen, he thought back to last night. It hit him, literally, when he stood up. 'Oh, right. I got roaring drunk. Hopefully, I didn't say or do anything stupid.'

Walking to the kitchen seemed to be a challenge, but Greg was determined to best it. It's just well, the walls were in his way. And the table. And the chairs. Greg made it to the counter, 'Finally,' and as soon as he was close enough, he out his head down. It hit the counter with a clunk. 'Ow.'

"Ow." Someone snorted behind him. Greg jumped and turned around. He was totally prepared to glare at the offender, but his head disagreed with him. Arms caught him as he stumbled. "I'd say thanks, Gris, but it's your entire fault anyway." Grissom laughed as he guided Greg back to the couch.

"Actually, I think it's Nicky's. What were you trying to do, Greg?" he asked, still chuckling.

"I was trying to make coffee."

"I think you would have just dropped it, anyway," a new voice said. Greg opened his eyes to see Warrick and Nick in the opening of the hallway. 'Oh, shit.' Nick stood with a towel around his waist, drops of water traveling down his chest, one arm drying his hair with another towel. Warrick had on a pair of boxers that didn't hide anything. 'Including that half-hard monster of his.' Greg didn't dare look at Grissom.

"I did something stupid last night, didn't I?" The three other men laughed. Warrick shook his head and headed into the kitchen.

"Want some aspirin, Greg?" he asked, but it didn't reach the younger man's ears. Greg's eyes were glued to Warrick's boxer-clad ass. Legs moved and the dark body turned around. Greg's eyes were drawn to the figure between those strong legs.

"Greg?" Grissom's commanding voice broke through the thick clouds in Greg's mind. Brown eyes blinked and focused on Gris.

"Huh?" he asked, and Grissom looked a little amused.

"Warrick asked if you wanted some aspirin." Greg looked at Warrick, who also looked amused. Greg nodded.

"Uh, sure."