AN: As promised, here is the first of the two one shots my brain came up with the other week. Please don't ask me where it came from, I have absolutely no idea!
This is probably the closest I've ever come to a PWP fic, but there IS some dialogue in there that COULD establish this as the beginning of GSR… Do I think this is how it started? Not really, but it could be… Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you enjoy reading it too!
Thanks to WalkerTRngr for the beta help
Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to CSI
A Helping Hand
Sara closes the front door and lets out a long sigh. It was a… trying shift, to say the least. Long – it was almost noon when she finally left the lab twenty minutes ago – but also trying on a more… private level.
Since the team was split up – and especially since she spilled her guts all over her boss – Grissom's been getting more and more attentive, pairing them together more often than not, and just generally being around her. And after the case at the mental hospital the other week, he's stepped it up another notch. They've even had breakfast at the diner a couple of times after shift – on his suggestion.
Which is nice, of course. She does love working with him, and spending time with him in general. But sometimes, it's also extremely confusing and, well, frustrating.
Like today. They spent the majority of their shift processing an average sized bathroom where someone managed to carry out a gruesome double murder. The cramped space meant working in close proximity, which of course meant plenty of – intentional or otherwise – touches, squeezing past one another, reaching for something in their kits, as they tried to figure out what happened.
Back at the lab, she was all prepared to handle the victims' clothing while Grissom took care of the prints or DNA, but for some reason, he insisted it would go faster if they worked together, so they spent the last three hours or so close together in one of the layout rooms.
Sara's sure he wasn't intentionally trying to get her worked up, but, well, she's only human.
Huffing out an annoyed breath, she pulls her top over her head, shedding the rest of her clothes on her way to the bathroom.
There is no way she'll get to sleep today without some kind of release.
She starts the water running in the shower to heat up before pinning her hair out of the way. A quick rinse off is going to have to be enough today.
As she steps into the cubicle, she eyes the detachable shower head. She's eternally grateful that the previous tenant installed it but disregards it today. Instead, she washes off quickly and grabs her favorite fluffy towel off the rack. When she's dry, she doesn't bother putting her robe on, just crosses the hallway into the bedroom, where the blackout curtains are already drawn.
Her sheets are soft and cool, and she sinks into the fluffy pillows, one hand already sliding from her hip up her ribcage, ghosting over her breast and making her nipple pebble. With the other hand, she digs through the drawer in her nightstand until she finds her bullet vibrator.
The first touch has her arching off the bed, and the pressure builds up quickly. Unfortunately, just as the first orgasmic tingles start spreading through her body and she's considering whether to turn the vibration up a notch or not, there's an unmistakable knock at her door.
Sara's eyes fly open, and she listens intently for a moment, hoping that maybe she imagined it, or that whoever is outside will go away, but no such luck. Less than a minute later, there's another, louder knock, and biting her lip against the frustration, she turns the vibrator off.
Figuring it's probably a delivery boy with the wrong apartment number or girl scouts selling cookies, both of which she can get rid of quickly, she just grabs her robe off the bathroom door and knots the sash tight enough she won't accidentally flash some pimply faced teenager and scar him for life.
A third knock comes as she crosses the living room. "Yeah, yeah, hold your horses," she grumbles to herself as she reaches out and unlocks the door, opening it about half a foot.
A moment later, her vaginal muscles convulse, making her shiver, because it's not some lost delivery boy or preppy girl scouts on the other side of the door – it's Grissom.
"What… what are you doing here?" she stammers.
He quirks an eyebrow at her, lifting a brown paper bag. "I was going to ask if you wanted to grab breakfast, but you were already gone when I finished my paperwork, so I brought it to you."
"That's… sweet, but I already ate," she half-lies.
He looks unreasonably disappointed. "Oh… how about just some coffee?"
She was planning on sleeping and probably shouldn't have any caffeine, but he looks so hopeful, she steps back and opens the door fully. "Sure."
His eyes widen when he sees what she's wearing, and she holds the robe closer together as he passes her. Closing the door, she turns to find him putting the paper bag down on the kitchen island.
"Did you actually eat or were you just saying that?" he asks, the corners of his mouth turning up a little. "You could have just told me you were getting ready for bed, you know."
Considering he's already in her apartment, she might as well enjoy an actual breakfast.
"I did have half an energy bar in the car, but that's it," she admits.
"That's what I thought," he says smugly, opening the paper bag. "Why don't you go… get dressed and I'll get everything set up here. Unless you really do want to sleep?"
She bites back a smile at how he stumbles a little over the words but shakes her head. "No, some food does sound good. I'll be right back."
She's only gotten a few steps towards the bedroom when a loud vibrating sound starts up, and she stops dead in her tracks, fighting down the blush. She had no idea that thing was so loud.
"What's that?" Grissom asks from right next to her, and she tries to get her brain working enough to come up with a plausible explanation.
"It must be, um… my toothbrush!" she exclaims, pleased with her quick thinking. "I was brushing my teeth when you got here, I must not have turned it off properly or something."
He considers her response for a moment, then looks deliberately from the half open door revealing the bathroom to the closed door of the bedroom, where the vibrating is obviously coming from. "You were brushing your teeth… in the bedroom?"
"Um… yeah?" It comes out as a question, which probably isn't ideal, but maybe he won't call her on it, because let's face it – this is Grissom, he's not exactly comfortable around these topics.
For a moment, she thinks he won't, because he's looking down at the floor, his teeth worrying his bottom lip a little. Then he looks up, not quite meeting her eyes. "Would you, um… like some… help. With… that?"
The words make Sara's brain go completely blank, because he does know she was lying, right? He does know that she wasn't really brushing her teeth in bed, and he does realize what she was doing… right?
"I, um… sorry, what?" she finally gets out when her brain starts functioning on some level again.
He seems to be having some sort of internal debate for a moment, but then nods, as if making a decision, and meets her eyes. "I assume I interrupted you," he says, very calmly, "so I am asking if you would like my help to… finish."
Even though his voice wavers slightly on the last word, his gaze is firm, burning into her.
"OK, I just… I need to know that we're on the same page here," she says after a long moment. "You do realize that the thing vibrating in my bedroom isn't actually my toothbrush?"
He quirks an eyebrow. "I did figure that out, yes."
Taking a breath, she decides to just come out and ask, because she has to be absolutely sure he's saying what it seems like he's saying. "So, what you're actually offering here is to help me use my vibrator to get off?"
Grissom blinks twice at her blunt words, but then nods. "Yes, that's what I'm offering. Unless that's… not something you're interested in."
Something she's not interested in?
"Um, no, that would be… I would… appreciate that." Appreciate that? Seriously? He's not offering to take her car for an oil change, he's offering to bring her to orgasm.
"Alright then," he says. "Shall we?"
"Hang on," Sara says, holding up one hand. "Just so we're clear here – is this a onetime offer? Like, you do this and then we never speak about it and things are incredibly awkward at the lab?"
His eyes soften at that. "I hope not. I don't want it to be."
Part of her wants to push more, but… he is being pretty clear, right? She's not reading into his words?
Deciding to just go with it – because what the hell, it's not like she's going to get another opportunity like this – she nods, once, and turns to open the bedroom door.
The offending object is still happily buzzing away on the nightstand, and she gives it an annoyed-slash-grateful look before turning to face Grissom. She's definitely starting to feel the awkwardness of the situation and is half expecting a deer-in-headlight look to have appeared in his eyes, but he just watches her with a soft smile on his face. He steps forward, making her automatically step back until the back of her legs are against the bed and she has to stop. Taking another step closer, putting him firmly in her personal space, he reaches for the sash of her robe, tugging to undo the knot and then releasing it, letting the robe hang open.
"Beautiful," he murmurs, eyes running up and down the exposed flesh. He doesn't make any move to touch her, though. "Take it off."
The command is soft, but it's still very clearly a command, and Sara lets the robe slip off her shoulders to pool at her feet, relishing the way he pulls in a sharp breath when her breasts are exposed.
"Lie down," he says, voice a little shaky, and she complies, scooting into the middle of the bed to make room for him before getting comfortable against the pillows. Slowly, he settles down on the edge of the bed, bending one knee and pulling it up on the mattress for a better position. There's still about two inches of space between them, though. He reaches for the vibrator on the nightstand, turning it over in his hands for a moment. "So, how does this thing work?"
"There's a button on the bottom," she explains, voice a little breathless, because she knows what's coming and her body is definitely reacting to that.
He finds the small button and clicks it, making the vibrations intensify. "Ah, different levels… do you like starting out on the low setting and then increasing it?"
"Um… sometimes," she replies. "Sometimes the first setting is enough."
Grissom hums, clicking the button a few more times to circle through the different settings until he's back at the original one. Then he runs a finger over the tip, which she knows must still be at least moist, if not wet. As she watches breathlessly, he then brings the finger to his mouth, licking off the remnants of her earlier endeavors. "Mmm… delicious." Some sort of sound, maybe a whimper, maybe a moan, escapes her at that, and he smirks down at her, apparently pleased with having elicited the response. "Now… shall we start? Or continue, in your case, I suppose?"
Not able to get any words out, she just nods, her legs falling open of their own accord, one knee coming to rest against his thigh, the warmth of him evident even through his pants.
His eyes run over her for a moment, as if he's trying to figure out the best way to go about things, and then the soft silicone is sliding along her slit, up, coming to rest against her clit, and her eyes slam closed. "Oh, God."
"I didn't know you were religious," he chuckles above her, sliding the vibrator back down and up again, this time circling her clit. Her hips buck against him without any conscious input from her brain.
"Oh, fuck, please…"
"Is this what you want?" he murmurs, pressing the vibrator against her clit for a moment, hard enough to make her gasp and clutch at the sheets under her. "I'll take that as a yes."
He works her up with a steady pace, moving the vibrator from her slit to her clit, around it, back down and up again. When she starts whimpering, he correctly interprets it as her getting closer, and clicks the button to change the intensity, making her cry out.
She's still not quite there, though, and ignoring that she's not alone, Sara does what she would do if she was on her own, and slides a hand up to her breast, tweaking her nipple between her fingers. It does the trick, and soon, she's teetering on the brink. What finally pushes her over it, though, is not the vibrations against her clit or her own hand on her breast, but his mouth covering the other, pulling her nipple into the wet heat, his teeth grazing the hardened nub.
She comes with another cry, her body convulsing and thrashing on the bed, for an infinitely long moment.
"Oh, God, I needed that," she breathes out when she's finally come down again, opening her eyes to find Grissom watching her intently.
"Good?"
"Very, very good," she confirms.
"I'm glad I could be of… service."
They stare at each other for a long moment, and somehow, Sara knows that this is a breaking point. Despite his earlier words, she's convinced that, if she pulls away now, he'll get up and walk out, and they'll never mention this again.
That's not what she wants, of course, so instead, she rolls onto her side, facing him, and slides a hand up his thigh to confirm that, no, she's not the only one affected here.
Taking her actions as the sign they are, he makes quick work of the buttons in his shirt, and when he stands to pull his pants off, she finds the condoms she – optimistically – always keeps in the nightstand.
When Grissom turns to face her again, he's not only gotten rid of his pants, but his boxers too, and she openly admires the evidence of his arousal. He wraps one hand around himself, pumping a few times, before kneeling on the bed and accepting the foil wrapper she holds out. As he slides the condom on with one swift motion, she rolls onto her back again, spreading her legs to accommodate him, and soon, he's hovering above her, holding his weight on one elbow, the other hand guiding him to her opening.
He pauses, though, frowning down at her, and she immediately panics, thinking he's going to realize they're making a mistake. "What's wrong?"
"I haven't even kissed you," he says, sounding almost confused, and Sara relaxes again.
"So kiss me," she tells him simply, and after another moment of staring down at her, he does just that.
It's nothing like she thought their first kiss would be – which probably makes sense, considering they're in bed, naked, and he just gave her probably one of the five best orgasms of her life – but it's everything she could have hoped for. He's determined but not forceful, his tongue immediately slipping into her mouth to tangle with hers, and if she wasn't already wet from her climax a moment ago, that kiss would probably do the trick.
She expects him to finally push inside her, but instead, he shifts away a little, making her whimper into the kiss. A few seconds later, two fingers slide into her, though, and she pushes against his touch.
"Trust me, I am more than ready," she assures him when he breaks the kiss to explore down her throat.
Grissom chuckles against her skin, making goosebumps appear. "I just wanted to make sure."
True to his words, he pulls his fingers out of her and lines himself up again. Raising his head from her shoulder, he maintains eye contact as he pushes forward, inching inside her oh so deliciously slowly. When he bottoms out, they let out matching breaths, which makes them both smile.
"Think you have another one in you?" he asks, leaning down to suck her earlobe into his mouth at the same time as he pulls out halfway and pushes back in, making her moan.
"Sometimes," she replies truthfully.
"Oh, good." He kisses down her throat. "I like a challenge."
Sara laughs at that, but it morphs into a gasp when he pulls out again and sets up a nice pace, shifting his hips slightly on each thrust, changing the angle until he finds one that has her panting and clutching at his shoulders. She's never actually had a G spot orgasm, but – based on the evidence so far – she's also never had a sexual partner so intent on pleasing her.
His mouth, in the meantime, is exploring every inch of skin he can reach, it seems like – sliding over her collarbone, nipping at her ribcage, before he finds a breast and teases her nipple with his tongue and then teeth. There's definitely another wave of pleasure building inside her, and she slides a foot up to bend her knee and be able to push back against his thrusts. The move pulls him deeper, and he groans against her breast, the vibrations echoing through her body. Almost immediately, he finds that perfect spot again.
"Oh, fuck, right there… harder, please, oh God…" Grissom picks up the pace, almost slamming into her, and she lifts an arm to brace herself against the headboard. Each thrust is bringing her closer to that sweet oblivion, and when he slides a hand between them, finding her clit again, she almost comes on the spot, but not quite. "Please, please, I need… I need…" she rambles, not able to form anything even remotely close to a coherent sentence.
He keeps up his relentless pace, his thumb just as insistent against her clit, as he kisses his way up her shoulder and throat, to her ear, where he murmurs soft words – gorgeous, you feel so good, honey, that's it, come on, let go, I've got you, come for me, baby, I want to feel you falling apart – until she finally soars over the edge with a sharp cry she'd worry would alert the neighbors to their activities if any part of her brain was still capable of that kind of rational thinking.
As she rides out her orgasm, he slows his pace, drawing it out and pulling whimper after whimper from her as she clings to him while her body shakes. When her breathing finally starts slowing, he pushes himself up to be able to look down at her, and she can see just how close he must be himself.
"Come on," Sara murmurs, sliding a foot up his leg to wrap both of hers around his waist. "I want to feel you too."
With a harsh breath, he leans down to find her mouth, the kiss a little off-center, and picks up the pace again. It's not long before his movements start getting sloppy, and she urges him on, sliding her hands down his back to pull him deeper. Another two, three, four thrusts and he stills above her, groaning into her mouth as he reaches his own climax.
For a long moment, the room is completely quiet, the only sound both of their breathing returning to normal. She tries not to get ahead of things, but still braces herself for the inevitable flight when he realizes what just happened.
Instead, after a few minutes, Grissom slides an arm under her and then rolls onto his back, pulling her with him so she's on top. He slips out of her in the process, but they're still basically pressed together from head to toe. His arms wrap around her, and she's almost sure she feels him brush a kiss against the top of her head.
"Well, that was…"
"Amazing?" she completes his sentence when he trails off.
"I was going to say unexpected, but it was absolutely amazing as well," he agrees. "Amazing, incredible, mind blowing…"
"Flattery will get you everywhere," she teases, before considering whether to say the next thing on her mind or not. But what the hell – she might as well push all her luck today. "So, you weren't planning this when you came over?"
He chuckles, to Sara's great relief. "Oh, definitely not. Hoping, maybe, somewhere very far back in my mind, but definitely not planning. I was going to treat you to breakfast and then, very casually, ask if you wanted to have dinner tonight. If I plucked up the courage, that is – I've had the same plan for a while now and have chickened out every time so far."
That's good to know…
"So this was…"
"A very nice bonus."
He lets out a sigh, and she shifts a little, getting more comfortable and tucking her face into the nook between his shoulder and neck. This time she knows she's not imagining it – his lips brush against her temple.
They stay like that, both seemingly content in the silence, until the air-conditioned air of the bedroom makes goosebumps appear on her skin.
"Are you cold?" Grissom immediately asks when she shivers a little, running his hands up and down her arms.
"Getting there," she admits, pushing herself up against his chest to look for the comforter, but it seems to have been pushed to the floor at some point in the last hour or so. Reluctantly, she rolls off him to grab it, sitting back down to spread it over them. Noticing he's removed the used condom, she grabs a tissue from the box on the nightstand and darts into the bathroom to dispose of it before returning to the bedroom.
"Hungry?" he asks when she sits down on the edge of the bed.
She frowns at him, not quite following. "Not really," she then says, remembering that he brought breakfast. "Are you?"
He shakes his head. "I only got a couple of bagels; they'll keep for later. Unless… you want me to leave?"
"No," Sara says quickly, probably too quickly, but it makes him smile, so maybe not. "Unless you need to go?"
Again, he shakes his head, reaching first for her hand, tugging her down next to him, and then for the comforter, pulling it up over both of them. When he nudges her shoulder, she rolls onto her side, her back to him. He snuggles close behind her, one knee nudging between her legs, both arms wrapping around her waist, and his warm breath tickling the back of her neck. "Right now, this is exactly where I want – and need – to be."
AN: As I mentioned, there is a second part to this, which I will put up next week