CSI: Sanctuary: Chapter 2

Fuck. This had not been a good idea. In fact, it had been one of his worst ideas. Ever. Even worse than tempting that rattle snake to bite him when he was ten. But now he had no choice. He'd told Greg he would stay. He didn't have to. Certainly Greg didn't expect him to. But when he pulled out his cell phone to let Kristy know where he was, he remembered the thick white bandages covering most of Greg's back and part of his legs, and knew he needed to stay.

He dialed the number.

"Stokes residence," Kristy's voice sighed into the phone.

"It's me."

"Oh. Working another double?" She didn't sound surprised.

"Yeah," he lied, finding it easier than telling the truth.

"Ok. Whatever."

"Daddy!" Cara called out in the background.

The phone changed hands, and his daughter's voice came over the line, loud and excited.

"Hey, sweetie. What's going on? Did you just get up?"

"Yeah! An' I didn wet bed!" she said in her cute little toddler talk.

"Well, hey, that's something pretty special! Why don't we celebrate when I get home tonight. Yeah?"

"Ok! Mommy talk now."

Nick listened to his daughter fumble with the large device in her tiny hands.

"No, Cara. You cannot go play outside. You need to get dressed and ready for..."

The line went dead

Laying down on the couch he closed his eyes but quickly reopened them when a picture of Greg naked in bed entered his mind. He thought about work to try to get his mind off the man sleeping down the hall, but that only reminded him of the explosion which brought him around to Greg again, and his worry for his friend's life. Closing his eyes once more helped little.

Then he tried something new, knowing he wouldn't be any good to Greg, his family, or his job if he didn't get any rest. He imagined himself on the back of his favorite mare at his parent's ranch house as a child, galloping through the fields of tall grass, letting all of his childhood worries fly away like a lost feather on the wind.

He fell into a fitful sleep.

Tossing and turning, he woke easily at Greg's voice calling for him several hours later. Hurrying down the hall, he found Greg still in bed, trying to look over his shoulder at Nick in the doorway.

"What do you need?"

"Trying to turn over. Damn it. I hate this."

Nick reached out to take his arm when Greg suddenly jerked back. "I don't want help!" His face went ridged with pain and he screwed his eyes closed.

"Be careful! You'll hurt you back," Nick warned.

"I just did," Greg said through clenched teeth. "Fuck."

"I'll help you sit up, and then I think it's time for more of your pain medication." Nick kept his voice as even and calming as he could.

"Yeah. Please. Sorry. I didn't meant to yell." He sounded tired. Perhaps even upset.

"It's ok."

Nick helped him move before going back into the kitchen for a tall glass of water and two pills. When he returned, Greg was leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees. The sheets had pooled around his waist, showing off his bare chest. There were a few cuts still healing there but they were small enough not to have needed stitches or bandages past a few days.

Greg swallowed the medication, downed the rest of the water, and handed the glass back. Nick set it on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed.

"I hate this. I should have stayed in the hospital. I don't want to keep you up. But I hate hospitals. They smell. And the nurses are always trying to bug you at all hours of the day. Couldn't get a decent night's sleep. Well, day, for me, you know. They don't let you sleep during the fucking day. And they weren't hot guys either. I would have stayed for that." Greg stopped, his eyes sliding closed. He lowered his forehead to his knees.

Nick's mouth opened to form some sort of reply, but nothing came out. Greg was gay? How had he not known that?

"I just want the company... I guess," Greg mumbled. "I don't know what I'm saying. I'm so tired I'm starting to ramble. Never mind being loopy on drugs. This is probably worse."

Without thinking, Nick crawled onto the bed to sit beside him, to offer the company he'd asked for. If neither of them were going to get any sleep, they might as well do something together.

"No, it's not," Greg corrected himself. "I at least know what I'm saying. I'm sorry. I do know what I'm saying. And I shouldn't have said it. I should have kept my big fucking mouth shut. What's worse is that I have no clue what I said that first day you came..." Greg's head swivelled, and his wide eyes latched onto Nick. "Oh God... Did I... What if I... I didn't... say anything stupid... did I? I mean... like... I might have... already said something...Why are you doing this?"

The abrupt change in topic startled Nick, who'd found himself staring into Greg's warm brown eyes, his heart yearning to touch, to hold the hurt man sitting so close to him. "Doing what?" Nick's hand found its way to Greg's face on its own, cradling his cheek as if he were a lover instead of a coworker.

"Spending the night and helping me with everything?" Greg's eyes darted from Nick's hand to his face in confusion. "You've got a family that probably needs you too."

"Not as much as you do," Nick found himself saying. He hadn't meant to say it, but suddenly he had no control over anything his body did and Greg's perfect lips were drawing him closer. His thoughts turned to complete static and his entire body tingled with excitement it hadn't felt in a long time.

This wasn't happening, he told himself. But, oh yes it was.

Barely an inch apart, his lips hovered over Greg's and their breath mingled in the air between them. He could still smell the peppermint he'd had earlier. It smelled too good to be true. How many times had he dreamed of being close enough to smell the wonderful scent of Greg's Blue Hawaiian coffee on his breath?

Tension filled the air and then their lips were searing themselves together. And Greg was receptive. Very receptive. Lips so soft, warm, and welcoming, opening easily for him... yet... hard, insistent, needy. Perfect.

Then he was gone, abruptly pulling away. There was something telling in his eyes. They were so deep, open, wanting. Never had anyone ever been this way for him. It felt odd, and yet, oddly right.

"We can't do this." Greg looked away, his voice sounding forced. Did he really want this too?

Nick nodded, unable to speak, still experiencing the wonderful warmth of Greg's lips pressed against his, even as the familiar feeling of emptiness began to refill his soul. Of course Greg was right. What had he been thinking? ...The same thing that had been on his mind for the past... how long? Damn it. It had been a bad decision to stay and help Greg. But his heart ached at the thought of leaving. He'd wondered. Every time he'd been over to play video games. Possibly even hoped and dreamed just a little. Not that he wanted to admit to anything. He thought he knew the truth now, yet his family stood in the way of his really owning that truth.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, and without waiting for Greg to reply, he rushed out of the room.

Nick made eggs and toast for Greg before he went home to see his daughter. He'd told Greg to call him if he needed anything, though he didn't expect him to take him up on the offer.

He had dinner with the family, but Kristy refused to let Cara eat one of the three cupcakes he'd brought home in celebration of her dry night in bed.

"Why not?" Nick asked.

"Because I said so." He could clearly see the mental 'duh' that accompanied her words written clear across her face.

"That's not a good enough reason. I promised her we would celebrate. And why shouldn't we? I thought you were tired of doing the laundry every morning."

While they argued Cara silently watched them from her chair and finished her dinner.

"I am. But this... you don't celebrate things like this! And how the hell do you think I've kept this figure anyway? By eating cupcakes? I don't think so. She's not going to grow up fat."

"I may have bought three but I never said you had to eat one. I figured maybe this once you might indulge a little. But I guess I was wrong. And she won't grow up fat. But I don't want her to stay a stick her entire life. I want her to enjoy her childhood while it lasts."

"Throw them out, Nick," she screamed. "That smell is making me sick. Get them out of here!"

Begrudgingly, Nick repackaged the cupcakes and stood up, letting out a sigh. "Sorry, pumpkin. I tried." He ruffled his daughter's dark brown locks.

"S'ok Daddy."

Kristy got up and left the table to take her usual nightly bath while Nick was still home to watch Cara.

The moment he heard the water running upstairs he sat back down and reopened the box of sugary delight.

"Promise me you won't say a word." He took out two.

"I pwomis."

"Good girl. Now eat up."

She smashed the little cake into her mouth creating a ring of frosting on her face. She was giggling the moment she'd swallowed a large portion of the cupcake, letting Nick wipe her face off with a wet paper towel as he finished his own dessert, careful not to make a mess.

Greg would have allowed this, he thought. Greg would understand what it meant to be a kid, to stop wetting the bed, and the need to celebrate. Hell, he would have bought her a whole sheet cake.

He stopped his thoughts in his tracks. What the hell was he thinking?

As soon as Nick entered the locker room that night everyone was asking about Greg.

"Why are ya'll asking me?" he asked, his thick southern accent slipping out.

"Cause you've been to see him more recently, and you took him home this morning. That's why, dummy." Catherine gave him a light slap upside the head.

"Cath!"

"Give me an answer and I won't be forced to do it again."

"Fine. He's doing fine. Still on pain killers." He was about to mention the nightmare of his back, but thought better of it and said instead, "He's getting better."

"Good."

Alone in the layout room later that night Nick was trying to piece together the events leading up to a young woman's murder when his mind slipped back to Greg's soft lips smashing into his own, the way he looked without his shirt on. He was a geek, but still very... no. He wouldn't say it. He couldn't. To say it meant it was real.

He swore softly when he realized he had a problem south of his navel. He didn't want to admit that either. Not when he'd been thinking about a coworker. And a male coworker at that.

He thought of Kristy.

Greg tried to reemerge in his thoughts, this time minus both his shirt and pants. Nick forced him out and brought Kristy back. His jeans loosened a little after a minute or two. Thinking about his wife should not do this to him. But it had, for a very long time, and he was unfortunately well aware of the fact.

Kissing Greg had been a bad idea. Though at the time it was too good an opportunity to pass up, and if he was honest with himself, he wasn't sorry he'd done it at all. Guilty maybe, but not sorry. All the same, he really shouldn't have done it. If it continued, and it wouldn't, he'd be leading Greg on. He didn't want Greg thinking he was only taking care of him in order to get some action.

He was married. Did he have to remind himself of this every ten seconds? Did he have to remind himself of his beautiful little girl? She meant the world to him and he'd sworn to protect her the day she was born. Swore never to desert her no matter what.

His thoughts spiraling out of control, Nick struggled to reign them in as he looked over the photograph stills of the dead woman taken from various clubs just hours before her death. If anyone knew what his life at home was like... he was quick to shut down that line of thinking. No one would know. Not even Greg. End of story.

Greg moaned, unable to keep the erotic sound sealed in his throat. Arching his back, he pushed himself into the large hand surrounding his heated flesh.

"Nick!"

A well muscled arm wrapped tighter around him, holding him in place. A chest pressed into his back. The hand moved faster, gripped harder, bringing him ever closer to the peak of his orgasm. He struggled to keep his mouth shut.

"Greg?" Nick's voice filled his ears. "Greg? You ok?"

With a jerk, his eyes flew open. He growled, as pain rolled over his back. "Shit."

"You ok?" Nick was standing beside the bed, looking down over him, concern etched on his face.

"Fine. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes!"

"Alright, alright. I was just checking. I thought I heard you call my name, that's all. Anyway, dinner will be ready shortly."

Greg didn't bother with a reply as his coworker left his bedroom to return to the kitchen. His back was healing. Slowly. And that wasn't helping anything. He was still in a lot of pain if he moved his arms too much. He could at least get up and walk around, though he had to be very careful. He could do some basic things around the apartment but his doctor had told him not to. At least not for a few more days. And the idiot had made sure Nick heard him say that.

Nick: hot Texan and his crush of many years who'd finally kissed him. Greg would have given up his entire collection of Marilyn Manson CDs just to have the experience of kissing him one more time. But he couldn't and he would have to live with that. Why did he have to be married? And if he was gay, why was he married to Kristy? He certainly didn't strike Greg as someone who was bi. He'd always seemed like an all or nothing kind of guy.

He felt a longing deep in his loins, and remembered clear as day, the dream he'd been having before his friend walked in on him. He was still hard, his boxers tenting, his cock unwilling to go flaccid without some form of help.

Why? Why him? Why, of all people, did this have to happen to him? Dinner would be brought in soon and there was no way he would be able to eat. Nick would see. He would know. Greg buried his face into his pillow, swallowing a groan. He closed his eyes, and willed this small action to take up as little time as possible. His hand slid along warm skin, until it came to the hollow just below his hip. He paused for a moment, listening for signs of Nick's return.

There were none.

He moved further south between his legs, took himself in hand and began to give quick, short strokes, hoping against all hope, that it would be over quickly. Sealing his mouth shut, forcing himself to breath through his nose, as hard as it was, he kept quiet under the covers. A light sheen of sweat broke out over his face and forehead. He stroked harder, ignoring the pull of tight skin across his back that his doctor had warned him about.

"Alright, dinner is served!" Nick entered the room, moving the door out of his way with a nudge of his hip. "Sorry, I'm not much of a cook." He stopped in his tracks when he saw Greg.

Before Greg understood what was happening Nick had set the tray of food on the dresser and was rushing to his side. Cheeks flushed, sweat drenching his skin and the sheets, he paused in his movements, biting his tongue, willing Nick to leave him alone.

"G? What's wrong? You're burning up!"

"No. I'm fine." Greg gritted his teeth. "I've gotta... just... can you... leave... just leave me... alone..."

Nick looked at him like he was an alien from outer space with three eyeballs in his head. Then his own cheeks dusted red, turning full on crimson rather fast.

Greg groaned when he saw the inevitable tent he'd made, not only in his underwear, but also in the sheets covering him. His hand hadn't moved from its grip around his post. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

"You're going to tear something on your back," Nick said, his voice softer than he ever thought it could be.

"Can't stop," Greg blurted.

"I know."

Nick climbed up onto the bed beside Greg, where he usually sat while they ate together. But this time he didn't sit on top of the covers. He lifted them from the mattress and pulled them up over himself, jeans, black t-shirt, and all.

Greg's heart hammered away in his chest so loud and fast he was sure it would explode. He shouldn't be doing this. Nick shouldn't be here. He was married. This was wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. But he needed this. Needed it so bad.

"Nick, don't."

"Shut up."

Warm fingers cascaded down over his. Greg closed his eyes. Not happening. This was so not happening. Hadn't he just dreamed about this?

"I won't let you tear your back. Not when we've worked so hard to get it to heal as much as it has." Nick's voice was trembling. Was he nervous?

Those warm fingers curled around his own, carefully prying them off his heated, leaking flesh.

"You can't do this on your own right now, and you need it done," Nick said, his voice now shaky for sure. "That's all."

That was all it was. Nick's large hand wrapped around his shaft... began to pump him... slowly... so agonizing. He arched into the touch and it sped up, faster, tighter, surer. Heat and pleasure gathered together, intertwined until he was struggling to breathe, babbling, moaning, wanting more, more, always more. He burst forth without warning, biting his tongue to keep from calling out Nick's name.

God he was good in bed. Greg fell back onto the sheets, exhausted, yet fully relaxed for the first time in a long while, working hard to catch his breath. The best sex he'd had in a long time... and it was only a hand job...

A/N: Thanks for the awesome reviews guys! I'm glad you're still looking out for my stuff! And no, I'm not dead. Thankfully. If you want updates on my doings check out my personal wiki: www(dot)QueenOfTheUniverse(dot)wetpaint(dot)com. I don't always remember to update it, but I try to.