He shouldn't have done it. He really shouldn't have done it. The mere looks on their faces were enough to make him feel like the scourge of the earth.
Greg was the most surprised. At the sight of Jeff's face, he knocked over the shot glass in front of him and paled like he'd seen a ghost. Thanks to Hodges explaining the man's phone call, Nick at least knew beforehand that Jeff was in town—not that his sudden appearance at the club that night wasn't an absolute shock.
The most awkward part of the encounter wasn't so much seeing each other as it was finding something to say. Eventually Jeff, feeling responsible for the awkwardness, managed to break the ice.
"I swear to god, I'm not stalking you."
Hodges swallowed uncomfortably. "I thought you were here for a wedding?" His voice sounded extremely tense.
"It's tomorrow," said Jeff, trying to avoid both Nick and Greg's eyes in fear of what he would surely find. He could, however, feel all three sets of eyes on him.
"Did you come here alone?" Hodges asked. Jeff replied with a stiff nod. He hadn't even told anyone from the wedding party that he was going out. They didn't need to know he was sulking. It wasn't their business.
Jeff crossed his arms over his chest. "I shouldn't have called you," he lamented, as difficult as it was for him to admit. "I'm such a fucktard. Why in a million years did I think you might agree to see me?"
"He's drunk," Jeff heard Nick say to the others. Jeff's first reaction upon hearing this was angry indignation, even though he knew it was true. If he wasn't intoxicated, he would never have approached their booth at all. He would have simply gone home, tail between his legs. But instead he was here, embarrassing himself like an idiot in front of David and his lovers—who, despite his presence, were now huddled together speaking in hushed tones.
"I'll just leave," he told them, not without some bitterness in his voice. When no one tried to stop him, he turned around and headed for the exit, suddenly feeling sick to death of Las Vegas.
Frowning, David watched his former colleague stumble away from their booth. He bit his lip, knowing that speaking his mind right now wouldn't go over well with Nick and Greg. Not that he'd let that stop him. "We can't just let him wander off at night in a strange city. We should at least call him a cab."
Nick sighed. Even though he wanted nothing more than to see Jeff disappear from their lives forever, Hodges was right. They needed to make sure he got home safely.
"Alright," said the Texan, scooting out of the booth. He couldn't see Jeff anymore, which probably meant he'd gone outside. "I'll go get him." He sped off after the redhead and caught up to him on the sidewalk outside the club. Jeff was sitting on the curb looking very pale and clutching his stomach like he might throw up.
"Hey." Nick put his hand on the man's shoulder. "I'm going to call you a cab, okay? You need to get home."
"No! No cab."
Nick paused in the middle of pulling out his cell phone. "Jeff, you're gonna have to go home sooner or later. You can't just sit out here in the street all night." His statement was met with more drunken protests, but this time Nick ignored them and called a cab anyway. Greg and Hodges came outside just as he was hanging up.
"How's he doing?" Greg asked.
"He'll live. He just needs to sleep it off."
"I'm not going back to that stupid fucking hotel," Jeff cut in angrily. He glared up at Nick. "I don't even remember what it's called, or where it is. How the hell are you gonna send me there in a cab?"
Nick crossed his arms over his chest. "Great." He cast an irritated glance at Hodges. "Now what are we supposed to do with him?"
The trace technician frowned, watching Jeff wobble to and fro on the curb. He wasn't sure if he wanted to scream or cry. They were supposed to be celebrating Nick's birthday, not babysitting Jeff while he was drunk. Why the hell did he have to show up at the exact same club as them? And now what were they going to do with him?
"Take me with you," Jeff suggested.
David head snapped in the redhead's direction. "No way."
"I need a place to stay," he continued, not even aware that he was slurring his words. "I don't know anyone else..."
None of them were particularly thrilled by that suggestion, but without the hotel's address they were essentially out of options. Either Jeff went with them or he'd have to fend for himself, and they weren't about to let him do that. Still, since it was Greg's apartment they'd be going back to, it was ultimately his call. In the end, he didn't have the heart to leave even Jeff homeless for the night.
"It's fine. He can sleep on the couch," Greg told them, trying to stay optimistic about the situation. There was no way he could have predicted their night turning out like this, but what could they do? With any luck, everything would go smoothly and they would find Jeff's hotel in the morning.
At least, Greg hoped so.
As soon as they laid Jeff down on the couch, he was out cold. One long, tattooed arm hung off the edge of the sofa, which his legs were also far too long for, but none of that seemed to matter to him. The redhead was snoring away within minutes, looking as comfortable as though he were in his own bed.
It was difficult to tell how Nick was dealing with the derailment of his birthday plans. He'd been rather quiet ever since they left the club and promptly retreated to Greg's room once they got home. It was this more than anything that made Hodges feel guilty. Jeff was his problem, so essentially their plans were ruined because of him.
David stared resentfully at the redhead until he felt Greg's hand on his shoulder.
"He'll sleep it off. Everything will be fine."
"That wasn't really my concern," Hodges grumbled. "Let's just leave him alone." With that, he grabbed Greg's hand and led him into the bedroom.
Nick was propped against the headboard, staring up at the ceiling. He glanced over momentarily when they entered the room, but his eyes went back to the ceiling just as quickly.
"It's officially your birthday now," said Greg, glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand. It read just after two o'clock in the morning. "The night's not over yet. What would you like to do?"
The Texan offered him a tired look. "Haven't we had enough excitement for one night?"
"What about birthday sex?" Greg asked guilefully.
In response, both Nick and Hodges wore identical expressions of disapproval. Greg didn't understand—what was wrong with birthday sex?
"Are you forgetting about our guest?" said Hodges, answering his unspoken question.
Greg didn't thing that was such a big deal. Jeff was sound asleep by the look of it. Besides, they shouldn't let his rather untimely presence ruin their whole night, especially for Nick's sake. But the Norwegian could be remarkably sneaky if necessary, and he still had another trick up his sleeve.
"Well will you at least open your present?"
That certainly did the trick. The Texan's earlier excitement about his mystery gift returned right away. "Of course," he replied, watching Greg seize the bag and place it before him on the bed. "It's not full of sex toys, is it?"
Greg laughed and shook his head. "Even better."
Curiously, Nick opened the bag and peered inside. After clearing away several layers of tissue paper, he reached inside and pulled out the item of clothing.
The CSI was so surprised he nearly choked on his own saliva. "Jesus Christ..."
He was holding a cheerleader costume in his hands.
A mile-wide grin spread across Greg's face. "You didn't think I knew about your weakness for cheerleaders, did you?"
Nick clutched the costume as though it were his most sacred possession. There were no words to describe his elation. Despite being too stunned and awed to think straight, he now understood why Greg insisted on opening the present once they got home, rather than before they went out.
Hodges eyed the outfit with equal surprise. He turned to look at Greg. "Why am I strangely turned on at the thought of you wearing that?"
"Because you're a pervert," Greg replied without missing a beat, "but that's beside the point." The young man placed his hands on his hips in defiance. "Who said I was wearing it?" he asked quite seriously.
The trace technician gave an amused snort and sat down on the bed. "Yeah. Over my dead body," he said with a laugh. There was no way anyone was getting him into the French maid costume, let alone that thing. His pride would never recover.
"You wouldn't even do it for Nicky on his birthday?" Greg drew close and pushed Hodges down onto his back. "Come on, David," he purred, moving to straddle the man's thighs. "You know you want to..."
In an attempt to end the bickering, Nick cleared his throat to get both his lovers' attention. "Do I get a say?" he asked in amusement. "Because I'd actually like Greg to wear it."
The young CSI could see Hodges' triumphant smirk at him from the corner of his eye, but he ignored the man and instead focused on Nick. "But Hodges has never—"
"I know. But it's been too long since you dressed up for me Greggo," he said, tossing the outfit at his lover. "And besides, you bought it for me. You had to realize I'd want it on you at some point."
The grey-haired man was still smirking. "You heard the man, Sanders. Go put it on," David gloated, reaching around to pinch Greg's ass. His tone was pure, nauseating, suck-up Hodges.
Loathingly, the Norwegian climbed off his lover and took a step toward the bathroom. He cast David the most disdainful look he could muster. "I hope you know that I'm getting you back for that snarky tone." Hodges merely shrugged it off as Greg disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door.
"I don't know who's more excited at this point—me or you," Nick remarked as the anticipation built.
Hodges chuckled from his sprawled-out position across the mattress. "I'm just glad I'm around to see it this time." Seeing the real thing would no doubt be much better than having the other man describe it to him after the fact. "Hey, Nick?" he began. "Can we... can we be rough with him?"
That was a very tempting idea. How could the Texan refuse? "I think he'd enjoy that," Nick replied with a sinister grin.
It wasn't long before the bathroom door creaked open a few inches. Greg's voice came from the other side: "Before I open the door, I should probably warn you how sexy I look."
David rolled his eyes. "Then show us."
"As you wish." A moment later, the door opened the rest of the way. Greg stood in the doorway, hands on his hips. The stretchy fabric of the costume hugged his every curve. It was tight-fitting all the way down to his hips, where it puffed out into a short, pleated skirt that exposed most of the young man's thighs.
Was it sexy? Hell yes. It was the sexiest thing Nick had ever seen.
Greg seemed oblivious to their reactions. "God, what is my life?" he joked, extending the outfit an odious glare.
"Shut up and get over here," Nick ordered.
Greg was delightfully quick to acquiesce. He crossed the room toward Nick's side of the bed and the Texan rose to meet him. Once they were face to face, Nick trailed a finger over the fabric covering his lover's chest.
"How did you know this was exactly what I wanted?"
The young man smiled. "I just had a feeling."
"Know what else I want, Greggo?" Nick asked with dark eyes. Suddenly, Hodges was behind Greg, seizing his wrists and wrenching them behind his back. "Birthday sex."
"I knew you couldn't resist," Greg said victoriously. There was no reason to let Jeff ruin all their fun just because he was passed out in the next room. They could still make the best of the night—and more importantly, of Nick's birthday. Greg was already brimming with anticipation. When he felt skin brush against the front of his thigh, he glanced down to find Hodges' free hand tracing the hem of the skirt.
"Are you sure this wasn't made specifically for you?" David mused, letting his fingers roam underneath the pleats. "You're putting a lot of actual cheerleaders to shame right now."
Well, Greg was definitely hard at that point. The way David's fingers wandered tantalizingly close to his cock, only to pull away, drove him crazy. But with his hands still held behind his back, all he could do was stare at Nick and wait for whatever came next.
When he and the Texan locked gazes, Nick's pupils visibly dilated with desire. The costume was definitely doing something extraordinary to him—a thought that pleased Greg to no end. It still took him by surprise, nonetheless, when Nick leaned in and whispered, "You won't be able to walk straight for a week when I'm done with you."
"Is that a challenge?"
"No, it's a promise," Nick told him, a sinister smile forming on his lips. "And look, you're turned on already." He gestured to the rather obvious tent at the front of Greg's skirt. "Lift it up, David. Let me see his cock." Hodges slowly raised the skirt just enough to expose their lover's erection to Nick's hungry eyes. Greg couldn't believe how hard this was making him. His biggest kink of all was having Nick and Hodges talk dirty to him, which they certainly loved to exploit. Before laying a single finger on him, they would often times get him so worked up that he'd be left begging for their touch.
"Well, well. Looks like you're ready for more," Nick drawled in amusement. "You can let go now, David. I want him on his back like a good little slut."
Greg's wrists were released from behind his back. The next thing he knew, he was being shoved hard into the mattress and Hodges was on top of him.
"I must say, I'm glad you're wearing this instead of me," he said with a chuckle. "I think we should have you wear this all the time when we're at home. Maybe lead you around on a little leash..."
"You wish," Greg retorted, trying unsuccessfully to shove the man off of him.
"Now, now, be nice. Otherwise I'll have to tie your hands behind your back," Hodges threatened.
Rather than responding with words, Greg chose a non-verbal way to demonstrate his lack of enthusiasm for that idea by kneeing his lover none-too-gently in the thigh. It wasn't the best idea, given Hodges' threat, but Greg was eager to see how the trace technician would retaliate.
"Nick?" David called out, turning toward the Texan. "Do you see anything we can use to tie his wrists?"
"How about a shoelace?"
"Perfect." Hodges attention fell upon Greg once more. He lifted the two of them off the bed and spun Greg around, attempting to bend him over the edge of the bed like he were a cop ready to cuff a criminal. Greg struggled wildly in an attempt to salvage his pride, at which point Nick stepped in to help the grey-haired man wrestle their young lover to the bed.
"You asshole," Greg muttered in frustration. "You just had to do this while I'm wearing this fucking costume." There was no give in the knot Hodges tied; it kept his wrists bound tightly together, not that he expected anything less.
"Pretty good birthday present, isn't it?" Hodges asked with a grin.
Nick's fingers coiled around the back of the trace technician's neck. "Damn right," he replied, reeling David in for a tender kiss.
Greg could hear the two of them kissing behind him. Because of this, there were fewer hands holding him down. Yet when he tried to stand up, one of the hands—Nick's, he thought—shoved him back down into the mattress face-first.
"And where do you think you're going?" said the Texan. Greg felt another hand—also Nick's—on the back of his thigh. It moved upward, beneath the hem of the skirt, and settled on his ass, making the young man shiver. "The fun hasn't even started yet."
"Then what are you waiting for?" Greg goaded. He was painfully aware of his erection straining against the edge of the bed and wanted to move things along. All this did, however, was reward him with a hard squeeze to his ass. Nick made sure to dig his nails in for good measure.
"So impatient..."
"Shut up! Just fuck me!"
The hand on his ass cheek migrated to his entrance, where it stroked up and down across the area. "You'd better pipe down or I might just decide to go in dry," Nick threatened.
Greg's breathing hitched in his chest. The only time he'd ever done that was with Hodges, and he hadn't even been thinking straight. The thought of doing it again... didn't actually seem so bad.
"Stop making threats you won't follow through on," Greg told him.
That gave the Texan just enough motivation to breach his lover's entrance with one finger. The young CSI moaned in surprise.
"Is that what you want? Huh?" Nick buried the finger deeper inside. "You want me to hurt you?"
Greg squirmed desperately and pulled at his bound wrists. "Yes," he groaned. His voice was low and carnal. "Please..."
"David, go get the lube," Nick ordered, watching the trace technician head toward the nightstand.
"What?" Greg struggled to look over his shoulder at the Texan. "No," he protested, clenching around the man's finger. "I want you now, Nicky."
A moment later, Nick's hand knotted itself in Greg's hair and he shoved the young man's cheek hard into the mattress. Greg could feel his lover learning over him, breathing hotly in his ear.
"Not without lube," Nick growled into his ear, twisting and rotating his finger inside of Greg. "Understand?" It was an unexpected reminder of just who was calling the shots right now, and it made Greg harder than ever.
It took a moment for him to find his voice. "I understand..."
"Good." Now that Hodges had returned with the lube, Nick withdrew his finger and pointed at the bed. "Strip and get comfortable," he told David. "I want to watch him suck your cock."
Hodges grinned and was quick to peel off his clothing. As piece by piece fell to the floor, he felt Nick's gaze on him, heavy and watchful. Then, left naked, he climbed onto the bed and scooted closer to Greg. When he opened his legs, Greg got a close-up view of the insistent arousal that the cheerleader costume had sparked. The spectacle of their lover dressed that way—especially now, bound and unable to move—had David's entire body in a state of hyper-arousal.
As a result, he was quick to seize Greg by the hair and draw himself in close enough to brush his cock across the young man's cheek. Greg gazed up at him with surprisingly patient eyes, given his earlier outburst. Perhaps this was because Nick had finished preparing him and was now extracting himself from his jeans.
"Going for a repeat of that time in your car?" Greg joked, wondering if Hodges might decide to slap him with his cock again. He purposefully let the man rub against his cheek.
The grip in his hair tightened. "Liked that, did you?"
Greg said nothing, merely squirmed against his restraints and stared up at the trace technician. He was soon distracted, however, by the feeling of Nick's hands pushing his skirt up and drawing closer behind him. Nick and Hodges held each other's gaze as the Texan gradually penetrated their lover. Once he was completely sheathed inside Greg, the pleasure of the sensation showed clearly on his face.
"Fuck," Nick exclaimed, throwing back his head. He let out a deep breath and dug his fingers into Greg's hips. Simultaneously, David guided his cock into Greg's mouth, letting the CSI encircle the tip with his tongue. Nick, slowly beginning to move, watched on, enjoying the look on Hodges' face as Greg's head bobbed further down onto his cock.
"Such a little slut, aren't you, Greggo?" Nick teased, rapidly picking up his pace. Smirking, he let his palm come down hard on Greg's ass, making his lover groan around the hardness in his mouth.
That was when, in the heat of their tryst, all three of them heard it; a loud noise, like something hitting the floor. And it came from right outside the bedroom door.