Disclaimer: I do not own CSI, or any of its characters. I just like to play with them! Especially Nick and Greg!

A/N: I thought I'd try first person point of view with this one. I think it works. Let me know what you think.

Remember Me

Chapter 1

Remember Me?

"Remember me?"

The first time I hear those two words, their in the form of a question.

I was sitting at the table in the break room, trying to choke down a cup of the motor oil we call coffee around here, hoping the caffeine will keep me awake through the rest of the double I'm pulling.

Looking up from my coffee mug, my eyes meet the liquid brown eyes of an angel.

"Uh, Greg, right?" Smooth, Nicky! Really smooth! I think to myself. "You interviewed for the graveyard shift DNA tech position."

You smile so big it threatens to crack your face in half. "Yeah, that's me!"

I stare dumbly at the hand you've extended to me for a moment, before I grasp that I'm supposed to shake it.

Your palm is warm and dry, your grip firm but not crushing.

"I'm Nick Stokes," I say partly for something to say to you, partly because I don't remember if I introduced myself to you when you were here for your interview.

Your eyes have haunted my dreams for the last two weeks. I've fantasized about your body under that crazy Marilyn Manson T-shirt you were wearing, and running my fingers through your spiky dark hair.

I can't believe you got the job, showing up with that shirt and your hair like that. You must have really impressed Brass and the undersheriff with your knowledge and academics.

Knowing I'm probably going to sound like a fool, get shot down, my mouth opens and more words tumble out, "Would you like to go out sometime?" After all, I know the statistics for the number of straight guys to gay guys. The odds aren't in my favor, but, hey, this is Vegas!

Your brown eyes sparkle, and I'm nearly blinded by your smile, as you reply, "I'd love to!"

A week passes. We never actually do... go out, that is. Instead, we end up at my place. The sexual tension that's built between us – through looks, small touches, things we've done and said that others would find totally innocuous – demanding release.

We make it through the door of my apartment, and I barely get the door closed behind us, before you're pushing me up against the wall.

Your mouth, hot and wet, tasting of your expensive coffee that you don't like to share, and a taste that's uniquely you, finds mine. Tongue teasing across my lips, begging admittance.

I'm powerless against you. My knees feel as if they'll buckle at any moment.

My mouth opens and our tongues meet for the first time.

As our tongues explore each other's mouths, your hands pull my shirt out of my jeans. They rove up under my shirt across my abs, up my chest. They're toying with my nipples now.

I groan into your mouth. My jeans have become nearly unbearably tight, and I need to move. Need friction.

My hands wander down from your shoulders, over your back, down to your perfect ass. I cup those cheeks in my hands and pull you roughly forward, as close to me as I can get you.

Our hard ons meet through denim, and you gasp. This cute little hitch, so I rub my throbbing erection against yours, hoping you'll gasp again. You do.

This time, though, you throw your head back, moaning, "Oh... God! Nicky!"

I attack your throat, ghosting my lips across your hot skin, nipping gently, not sure how you'd feel about visible marks.

Looking at me with a glint in your lust filled brown eyes, you say, "Let me show you the proper way to do that."

The way you nip my neck breaks the pleasure-pain barrier, and I know you like to be marked.

I'm suddenly feeling stifled by my clothing, and you seem to realize that, because you're helping me get them off.

Now I'm standing before you, naked, and you've stepped back to admire me, as if I were a sculpture in a museum.

When your gaze gets to my aching member, your tongue darts out over your lips, leaving a glistening film of saliva.

It's so erotic, I nearly come from just watching you look at me.

"Greg..." I begin, but you don't let me finish, because now you're kneeling in front of me.

When your tongue begins gliding over super sensitive flesh, I sag against the wall behind me, as my legs nearly give way. I'm so close to my peak, I'm not sure how much longer I can last.

Just before my head slips into your perfect mouth, you look up at me and murmur, "Don't hold back. Come for me, Nicky!"

Your right hand encircles the base of my cock, and slowly begins to work its way up my length, as you tease my head with your tongue.

You tease my slit with your tongue, then you're sliding more of me into your mouth. Your right hand is pulling gently on me now, encouraging me to move.

A long, low, "Oh..." escapes my mouth, as I slowly begin to thrust into yours. My fingers are tangling into your soft spikes.

As my head hits your throat, you begin to hum, and the vibrations are my undoing. I spurt into your mouth, and you take it all, swallowing, milking me dry, lapping up every last drop.

When you pull away, I slide down the wall, my legs too weak to support my weight anymore.

You straddle my legs, leaning forward so our foreheads touch. We stay that way for a moment.

Moving so your mouth is next to my ear, you whisper, "Shit, Nicky! You taste so good!"

Then your mouth is on mine, sharing my taste with me.

Impossibly, I feel myself twitching, beginning to get hard again.

You laugh, and jump up, pulling me to my feet. "On the bed, this time. Much more comfortable than the floor!"

As we kiss our way to my bedroom, I help you with your little clothing problem.

I push you onto your back on the bed, and now it's my turn to stare at your amazing body. Your golden skin is covered in body hair so fine and light it's more akin to peach fuzz.

Kneeling down between your knees, I admire your hard length, licking my own lips in a mimic of what you had done earlier.

You're getting impatient with me, so you thrust your hips towards me, a frustrated groan escaping your supple lips.

With a suddenly evil grin, I look up at you, and murmur, "You look good enough to eat, G!"

This elicits another groan, followed by, "Fuck! Nick! Do something, or by God, I'll take matters into my own hands!"

Now it's me that's groaning at the mental image your words bring to my mind. "Mmm... Maybe in a minute," I reply, taking a firm hold of the base of your cock, as if I were holding an ice cream cone, or a huge lolly pop.

Starting where my had is holding you in a firm grip, I slide my tongue all the way up to your slit, licking the drops of pre-cum from your tip. I swear, even your come tastes like that ridiculously expensive coffee you drink.

You shiver as I pull away, smacking my lips.

Crawling up the bed, laying with my head propped on my hand, I whisper in your ear, "Take matters into your own hands, G."

You shiver again, your eyes glinting at me hungrily in the dark.

As your hand wraps around your aching length, you moan. Several new drops of pre-cum glisten at the slit, and I lick my lips, but don't move.

You close your eyes as you slowly begin to stroke yourself.

I roll away for a moment, reaching to the drawer of my night stand for the lube and condoms.

Setting the condom package within easy reach, I use the lube on my left index finger.

I know you felt me move on the bed, but you still let out a little mewl when my finger touches your tight entrance.

As I add another finger, I lean down and lick the accumulating pre-cum from the head of your perfect hard on. I then place a reverent kiss just over your slit, before reaching up to kiss you.

As we kiss – your cock jumping in your hand as you encounter your taste on my lips and tongue – I add another finger.

You arch up, a low cry escaping your lips as our kiss breaks.

I pull my fingers out, and rip open the condom wrapper.

The cool latex slides over my impossibly heated length, and I position myself at your entrance.

You sigh as my head penetrates. Your eyes are open again, locked on mine, urging me to push farther in.

The hitch in your breath causes me to pause, but you wrap your toned legs around my waist, pulling me farther in, until I'm buried up tot he hilt in your tight heat.

Your gaze is still locked on mine – lust, and another emotion I can't quite identify, filling your eyes.

I realize you've stopped stroking yourself, so I steady myself with one arm and put my other hand over yours. As I make your hand move again, I begin to move in you, gently pulling out and thrusting back in.

With a sigh, you reach up with your free hand and trail your fingers over my cheek and down my jaw.

I think I see a tear trail down the side of your face, so I ask, "Greg?"

"Please, Nicky! Harder!" is your response, but I know that's not what the tear was all about. I resolve to ask you again when we're through. Now, I speed up my thrusts, coming close to slamming in and out of you.

Now I'm the one saying, "Come for me, G!"

A few more strokes of your hand, and you're spurting over your chest and stomach.

Two more thrusts, and I let out a strangled yell as I fill the condom.

After I pull out of you and discard the condom, I place a gentle kiss on your lips before moving to your chest.

The taste of your pre-cum has left me hungering for more of the taste of you on my tongue again. Besides, if that's the only way I'll ever get to taste your damned coffee, I'll take what I can get. I lick every last drop from your stomach and chest, making you giggle from the feel of my tongue on your flushed and heated flesh.

The after glow of our coupling has left us both languid. Your eyelids are droopy.

"What was that about, earlier?" I ask, pulling you against me, so your back is flush against my chest.

Drowsily, you respond, "Won't last. Wanted to remember. You'll forget me, like all the rest. Take what I can get, though."

I think you fell asleep after that, but I brushed my lips against your delicate ear anyway, and whispered, "I could never forget you, G!"