DECISIONS

Note: There's a scene in 'Burked' where Greg mentions something about getting drugs into your system by using a suppository; I remember Grissom's look after he hears this –as if he's wondering whether Greg's talking out of personal experience…

This story was edited on June 3,2005

Greg wake up but didn't move; he was too comfortable.

It was only curiosity that made him open his eyes- actually one eye only, since he was lying on his stomach, with half his face crushed against his pillow.

He smiled. Under the faint street light coming through the window, he could see that Grissom was sleeping on his back –just one of the things Greg had hoped to find out about his boss.

Last night they had skipped the food altogether.

They had kept a respectful distance as they climbed the stairs to Greg's apartment. Once inside, Grissom had only taken a casual look around, but as a CSI he was able to see a lot. His attention was immediately drawn towards the huge posters on the walls.

"What do you think?" Greg asked when he noticed this.

"It's like an explosion of colors." Grissom whispered in awe. He noticed other things, too. Greg's apartment had high ceilings, and there was a spiral staircase that lead to an area that seemed to float over the living room. Grissom must have realized it was the bedroom, because he studiously averted his eyes and concentrated his attention on the ground area.

"Here's the living room," Greg said helpfully, "And there's the kitchen -"

"The least used room, am I right?"

"Hey, I don't cook much," he shrugged, "But I have interesting furniture in there; the dining table is an heirloom from papa Olaf-"

Grissom took another step into the living room, and his attention was immediately drawn to the bookshelves. He was reaching for a book, when Greg gently pulled him away.

"Hey," he whispered in his ear, "You can browse later. Come on. There's a lot to see upstairs."

Greg led the way, muttering some vague apologies -he hadn't made the bed before leaving, four days ago; his sheets weren't satin but cheap cotton, and they weren't exactly clean- but Grissom had shushed him by pinning him against the rail. He whispered something into his ear.

Greg chuckled.

"Hey-" he mumbled, "That's exactly what I want to do to you-"

"We'll take turns." Grissom said.

Ah, happy memories.

Greg moved one arm, just enough to glance at his watch. He smiled and closed his eyes again. It was only midnight. There was enough time to sleep a little longer, wake up and make love again, talk, eat -

He fell asleep again.

A couple of hours later, Grissom studied the bedroom from his cozy spot on Greg's bed.

There were more posters up here. They covered the white walls -music groups sharing equal space with beautiful models, male and female. There were more bookcases, overflowing with books and magazines; an old chest of drawers that looked antique, and wooden doors of what could only be a closet. Avidly, Grissom looked at ceiling but discovered -to his complete disappointment- that Greg didn't have a mirror up there.

With nothing new to look for, he reluctantly turned his attention to himself.

When he woke up, his first reaction had been one of panic because he didn't recognize his surroundings, but panic didn't subside even after he remembered where he was -the only reason he didn't bolt from the room was because he didn't dare move and wake up Greg.

He had calmed down after a while. He took a couple of deep breaths, telling himself to take it easy. He could handle this. He had vowed to, right? He had promised not to jeopardize his working relationship with Greg, and that included acting cool while he was in his colleague's bed.

He had made a mistake last night. He had come to Greg's place out of loneliness, and out of curiosity; but mostly, because he thought that making love to Greg again would somehow lessen the memory of that first time. Well, it hadn't. Now that he knew that every time could be as good as the first, he felt regret. He'd miss all this.

The hardest part would be working side by side, acting as if nothing out the ordinary had happened. It would be impossible to forget all this; after last night, he realized he knew too much about Greg -too much and yet not enough to stop from craving him. Just enough to know that from now and on he would not be able to listen impassively as Greg talked about beer goggles and dates and parties. And what about Greg's tendency to flirt with everyone at the lab?

Grissom rubbed his face with one hand. Life was going to be hell from now on-

"Hey."

Greg's voice, hoarse and sleepy, interrupted his musings.

Grissom lowered his hands and greeted him as amiably as he could.

"Hey."

Greg stretched one arm until he reached the bedside lamp.

"You ok?" he asked as he turned it on.

He's asked me that every time we've had sex. Grissom mused. Maybe he's afraid that my heart won't take it.

"I'm fine." Grissom said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice, "But I still feel like I'm on the plane-"

"Hey, do you want anything?" Greg offered, "Water? Something to eat?"

"Water would be good."

"I'll get it," Greg said, a bit relieved; as far as he knew there was plenty of water but no food in his apartment.

Grissom stared as Greg got out of bed and disappeared down the stairs. For a moment, the only sounds in the loft were made by Greg as he walked barefooted on the wood floor downstairs.

Grissom sat up when his friend returned with two bottles of water and a round tin. Greg moved easily, completely oblivious to the fact that he was naked.

"I forgot I had these," he said, "Want some cookies? ."

He handed the tin to Grissom and practically jumped back into bed.

"They're huge," Grissom frowned when he opened the tin.

"The nuts?" Greg asked, teasingly. "Oh, you mean the ones in the cookies-" He added with a grin.

Grissom smiled despite himself.

"My grandmother bakes these," Greg explained, "She sends me a box once a month."

They sat in bed, eating the oatmeal cookies in silence, and glancing at each other now and then.

After eating the last cookie, Greg propped his pillow against the headboard and leant back on it. He sighed and stretched, completely at ease. Grissom tried not to, but he couldn't help staring. There wasn't enough light to see everything, but what he saw was enough- pale skin, hard muscle, faint bruises-

It wasn't until his gaze reached the young man's face that he realized Greg had been watching him all along.

Embarrassed, Grissom fished around for something to say.

"I thought you'd have a mirror up there." he said, pointing at the ceiling.

Greg looked up.

"Nah." He chuckled, "I did try, but they're too expensive. Besides, this building is really old, Grissom. It vibrates even when a bicycle passes by-" He smiled.

They were in silence again, and ironically, it was Grissom who was frantically thinking of something to say. He firmly got that urge under control, since the only reasonable thing to say right now was, "I better go," but he didn't want to do that either. He remained quiet, until-

"I used to wonder about you." he said.

"Wonder?" Greg frowned.

"Yeah," he nodded, "Actually, you got me worried a couple of times."

Greg looked questioningly at him.

"You were worried about me being gay?"

"Actually had no clue about that;" Grissom admitted sheepishly, "No, it was something else; I always felt you knew a little too much about drug use and kinky sex."

Greg snorted.

"Ah, yes." he chuckled, "I did notice that I made you uncomfortable, more than once-"

"I kept wondering if you had actually done all those things-" Grissom admitted.

"Well… Some of it was hearsay." Greg admitted slowly, "Late night confessions from friends-"

"And some of it wasn't hearsay." Grissom finished.

Greg shrugged slightly.

"I was curious." Greg admitted, "I was a late bloomer," he shrugged, "I wanted to taste life."

"A late bloomer?" he frowned, "You?"

"Yep," Greg nodded. He noticed Grissom's incredulous look, "Hey, I didn't always look this good," he said with a grin, "there was a time in my life when I wore braces and thick glasses and had big ears sticking out of my head, Grissom."

"Really?"

"I was pretty disgusting," Greg said, "I looked like the ultimate geek until I got laser surgery on my eyes and a little nip and tuck in my ears."

"Nip and tuck?"

"Hey, nothing radical," he insisted, "Just enough to, you know, make me feel more confident-"

"And once you felt more confident…"

"I tried to make up for lost time," Greg finished. "It was a crazy time, Grissom" he said smugly, "I tried everything once, just as you said."

Grissom studied Greg's face for a long time.

"Until you met Mr. Hyde." he said with surprising insight.

Greg froze. His face didn't register any change, but that in itself was enough for Grissom to know he was right. He felt anger and sorrow, all at once. He couldn't bear to think that someone could hurt his friend.

Grissom leant forward and kissed him lightly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

They looked at each other for a moment, and then Grissom kissed him again and wrapped his arms around him.

"It's ok." Greg said, trying to be dismissive, but he returned the embrace and held Grissom just as tightly. "Grissom," he said before kissing his boss' neck. "Grissom-"

Greg didn't know why he kept whispering the name as they made love again.

The next time they woke up, the sun was already up. Grissom was lying on his back again, but this time he wouldn't have bolted out of bed even if he had wanted to –he had his arms full. Greg was sprawled on top.

Grissom was lazily caressing him –one hand drew slow circles on the young man's back while he the other remained buried in the spiky hair.

He knew the minute Greg woke up, simply by the change in his breathing.

"Hey, Greg?" he muttered, "Did you know there's a spider's web up there in your ceiling?"

"Yep." Greg muttered, his words muffled by Grissom's chest, "That little guy deserves a home."

Grissom closed his eyes. 'Give me a reason not to love you.' He silently pleaded. So far, everything Greg did seemed to pull him deeper in.

He opened his eyes after a moment.

"You'll really have to wash these sheets now." He said.

Greg laughed. Yeah, the sheets were truly smelly now.

"I will," he mumbled, "Just not now."

Grissom took a deep breath. God, he was going to miss this. Not just the sex, but the easy camaraderie and Greg's openness. Something about the young man inspired him to be open too; open and loving. He took a deep breath again.

Greg lifted his head.

"Hey, do you want me to move?"

"No." Grissom said, holding him in place.

Greg looked intently at Grissom. Sunlight was pouring through the window now, giving him a chance to examine every inch of his boss' face.

Grissom calmly accepted the scrutiny, even though he knew that the sunlight would probably draw attention to every wrinkle, every white hair, and every flaw.

Greg smiled.

"You have nice lips." Was what he said, taking his boss by surprise. Greg grinned, "Wow, Grissom," he said, "I'd never seen a fifty-year old man blush."

Greg continued his perusal until he noticed a purple spot on Grissom's neck, "Oops," he muttered, "Someone got carried away last night," he said, gingerly touching the sensitive skin.

"That someone was you," Grissom muttered, trying to look severe and failing. "I'll have to wear a turtleneck tonight."

"Sorry." Greg said, but he didn't look repentant at all. He smiled. "I'd really like to do this again, Grissom."

Grissom froze, suddenly alarmed - was Greg some sort on insatiable maniac?

Greg chuckled when he noticed Grissom's expression.

"I don't mean right now." He said, patting his boss' chest reassuringly. Then he lowered his voice, "But what about next month?"

Grissom's heartbeat quickened under Greg's fingertips, but he didn't say anything. He looked at the ceiling, as if he could find the answer there.

"Or maybe next week?" Greg added, looking expectantly at Grissom.

Grissom was too stunned to answer immediately. He looked at Greg, trying to gauge the sincerity of his words.

"Or tomorrow." Greg said simply.

"Greg-" he started. He wanted to say yes, he needed to say yes, but, "This is not a good idea-"

"Why is that?" he asked good-naturedly.

Grissom wanted to answer that, but didn't seem to find the words.

Greg didn't see any conflict at all. He liked Grissom and he was pretty sure his boss liked him just fine. Greg didn't see any reason why they couldn't do things together. Sure; yesterday he would have freaked out at the idea of having an affair with his boss, but not now. The sex was good, and that was all that mattered.

He was not even disturbed by the fact that getting Grissom out of his system seemed to be taking longer than he had expected.

"Hey," he said, "I'm not going to tell."

"That's not what worries me, Greg-"

"Then, what?" he asked, "Look, we could, you know, come here after work, now and then-" he smiled, "It would be something uncomplicated-"

Grissom knew better. Feelings complicated everything. True, Greg's feelings were not really involved, but his own were. And there was something else on the line here: their jobs. For Grissom, there was nothing more important than his job.

And yet… he couldn't bring himself to say no. Four days ago, he wouldn't have hesitated to say no, but now…

"I'm not telling, Grissom," Greg insisted. "Scout's honor."

Grissom snorted involuntarily.

"There's something seriously wrong about saying 'Scout's honor' while lying naked on top of your boss, Greg."

Greg smiled confidently -Grissom was melting again, no doubt about it.

"It's twisted, huh?" he smirked.

"It's sinful." Grissom nodded, but he was smiling faintly.

Greg's voice was low and seductive as he added, "But it's turning you on, right?"

"Yes." Grissom admitted sheepishly.

And then they both laughed.

TBC

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