"Whatever is going on between you two stops now."

Grissom was condoning them like a good father did when his children were fighting. The older man's voice betrayed his anger and frustration, although Nick couldn't tell what his face looked like because he was too busy examining his shoes. He could see Greg in his peripheral vision, his eyes focused on the wall, jaws set together firmly. Could see the dirt on his clothes and his tousled hair, knew he must've looked just as awful.

Needless to say, it wasn't going well. When Nick had told Greg to take this things and leave, he didn't realize the consequences of his actions. He didn't realize how much he'd hurt him, he didn't realize how...serious the relationship between the two men had been to Greg. This was all so new to Nick, having a relationship with another man. While he genuinely enjoyed spending time with Greg, liked having him around and talking to him, watching television with him, eating dinner with him, sleeping next to him, sleeping with him, he didn't think it was anything serious, but Greg's behavior at work was telling him otherwise.

And when he went home to silence, when he went to bed alone, he hadn't realized how much he was going to miss him. But that was beside the point. Right now, he was talking about work, and the awful environment Nick had inadvertently created.

He'd asked Greg to run the DNA on a scene for him while the young man had worked a shift in the lab. There had been no response, and the results hadn't come in until the next night, when the day shift had processed them. They took separate cars to a scene in the woods, and while he didn't have proof, he could swear someone had kicked mud onto his newly waxed Denali while he wasn't looking. What was worse, was that Greg had begun to hide his coffee -- the only decent coffee in this place. And Nick had yet to find where he kept it. He'd even checked in the young man's locker when he was busy at a scene.

The piece that took the cake was when Nick and Greg had been working a scene in the desert. Someone had misplaced a vital piece of evidence. It definitely hadn't been Nick, he knew that much. And perhaps it hadn't been Greg either, there were plenty of people out there that night, but Nick's anger had flared. After what had happened during that wedding when Nick's truck had been stolen, he had been very careful making sure evidence was where it was supposed to be. And now bloodwork went missing? Nick couldn't afford another write-up, he would be due for a suspension -- without pay.

"I didn't touch it," Greg had stated, annoyed. "I wasn't even the one that collected it. I was working the perimeter."

"I put it right there!" Nick had exclaimed, pointing to his gear. He had laid it right on top of the case. "It was the first thing I got and I put it right there."

"Good for you," Greg replied, eyebrows raised. "I didn't touch it. Good luck."

"Good luck?" Nick asked, grabbing Greg's arm as he tried to walk away. Greg pulled away roughly, looking at him with continued irritation. "We just lost a piece of evidence and you say 'good luck?'"

"No, you lost it," Greg retorted, a smirk on his face that Nick wanted to wipe off, but not with his own mouth. "I was working the perimeter. Over there."

"This is our scene," Nick reminded him, stepping closer. "Our case. If you don't want to help me, that's fine. But when the killer gets away, it won't be on me."

"Really?" Greg asked, looking down at him, and Nick tried to straighten his posture and make himself seem taller, but Greg had a way of standing over him, those long legs going on for miles. It intimidated Nick, something he could've never imagined, that sweet, goofy Greg could seem threatening. "Because I don't remember having a reputation for misplacing evidence. I have a feeling that when this gets to Ecklie, I'm not going to be the one at a disciplinary hearing."

And that was it. He hit him. Nick reached out quick and fast, and knocked Greg square in the jaw, knocking him backward, knocking him into the sand. Greg looked up at him, his hand on his mouth, his expression showing his shock, transforming into realization and then into pure rage. He scrambled up fast, faster than Nick knew he could move, wrapped his arms around Nick's waist and took him to the ground.

He grabbed Greg's arms and turned them, forcing Greg underneath, felt Greg's hands around his own arms, trying to regain power, but Nick was stronger. He pulled Greg off the ground and pushed him back down, heard the air escape from Greg's lungs, the groan escape from his lips. Felt a knee at his ribs, and then the air was gone from his own lungs, the wind knocked out of him. Greg took advantage of the moment of weakness, rolling them, and Nick was on the ground once more. Greg raised his fist, pure fire in his large black eyes, but the blow never came.

"Stop it!"

Grissom's voice, and then the weight above Nick was removed from him, although one last kick to his leg shocked him. He moved to attack and felt hands around his own biceps, holding him back. A police officer, who should've been stronger than Nick, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins was enough to give him Hulk-strength.

"Enough!" Grissom shouted, his voice breaking the trance Nick was in. He could hear his breath, his chest heaving, eyes focused on the man before him and he tried to calm down but he couldn't stop his hands from shaking. Their supervisor released his hands from Greg's arms, stepping between them, eyes traveling between them. "I want you two to pack up your stuff and report to my office. Immediately."

And here they were. Fidgeting like school boys in the principal's office.

"Take the rest of the night off. Now get out of my office," Grissom stated, his voice firm, his eyes just as much. "If I hear about this again, I'm going to suspend both of you -- without pay."

"Gris, " Nick began, but --

"Goodbye."

Nick rolled his eyes, mostly at himself. He stood, following Greg out of the room. The young man had a quick pace with those long legs, but Nick managed to keep up and meet him in the locker room, watching him forcefully take off his shirt and jam it into the locker, grabbing a fresh tee shirt and pulling it on. Nick moved to his own locker but only grabbed his jacket, not having an extra shirt inside. He turned and looked at Greg, wincing as the locker slammed closed, echoing in the small room.

"Greg," Nick tried, but it was almost as if he didn't hear him. When he didn't continue, the young man looked up, eyebrows raised expectantly. Nick sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Do you...want to come over tonight?"

"No. What?" Greg asked, incredulous. "No."

"Why not?" Nick asked, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Instead, Greg's face said it all. "Because I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Anymore?"

"Yes," Greg clarified, nodding. "For the rest of my life? I don't want to talk to you. You're a jerk."

"I know," Nick conceded, stepping closer, so that the bench was the only thing separating them. He was relieved when Greg didn't step back. "I'm sorry. I just...we can talk about it at home."

Home. Their home. Because it was only Nick's apartment when Greg wasn't there, and Nick hated that.

"No," Greg replied. Nick looked up, surprised. "It's going to take way more than that to make me come back."

"Oh, yeah?" Nick asked, smiling. "Like what?"

"Like this is going to be more than just a fling to you," Greg said, pointing to the ground to punctuate his sentence. "This is going to be serious."

"It is serious."

"No," Greg stated, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "If this was serious, you wouldn't have told me to take my stuff. You would've asked me to sit down and talk."

"So...serious like...What? Boyfriend serious?" Nick asked, his smile gone. "I don't know if I can do that."

"You've never been a boyfriend before?" Greg deadpanned.

"Of course I have," Nick stated, irritated. "Just not with a guy. This is all new to me, Greg. I don't know what to do."

"Kiss me."

Nick looked around. The locker room was empty, but who knew for how long? He looked back at Greg, eyes wide. "Right now?"

"No, later," Greg shot back. "Yes, now."

"But what if -- ?"

"Just do it!"

"I..." he began, but couldn't find the words, his eyes shifting between Greg and the door.

Greg groaned, his frustration visible. "You have me, Nick! You have all of me!" He looked away, looked back, pained. "I just need to know that I have you. Kiss me, Nick, please. Kiss me."

So he did. He reached forward and put a possessive hand around the younger man's neck, pulled him close and pressed his lips firmly to the ones in front of him. His heart was racing with fear and exhilaration, but more so with the wonder of what was going to happen next. Not only with this kiss but with every single one after that. They pulled away, breathless. And someone could've come in and out of the locker room but he wouldn't have noticed. He could only focus on the man in front of him, dirty and disheveled and vulnerable and his, all his.

"I'm sorry I was a jerk," Nick said, softly. "I didn't mean it."

"It's okay," Greg replied, his brown eyes liquid fire. "We can talk about it at home."

And so they did.

--

END. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.