FIC: Stamping the Paperwork (part 3)

[niceandfluffy]

Nick returned his gaze dubiously, clearly not entirely sure what to make of the expression that was being aimed at him hungrily.

“What?”

“Shush.”

“For fuck’s sake, Griss…om, yes, I know, I know.. ,” Nick groaned softly and unfastened his seatbelt grumpily. “Look, I don’t like this situation any more than you do.”

“And yet you’re encouraging it with your actions and your inability to speak to your lover yourself,” Gil noted mildly. “Get out the car, and put on your best apologetic expression.”

That managed to spark up the area of Nick’s brain marked ‘enraged’ by the flash of irritation that suddenly burned deep within dark eyes. Incredibly dark eyes, Gil mused as he looked back at him without batting an eyelash. The type of eyes he would expect to find on a deer or a unicorn or some other graceful animal that communicated its generally peaceful intentions through gaze, mysterious and graceful at the same time.

Okay, even for him, that was getting a little wet. Perhaps tiredness was taking its toll after all.

“Right, stop looking at me like that.” Nick growled.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re a snake and I’m a mouse.” Nick twisted to face him. “I know what Warrick told you about me, and I’m sorry that you were put in that position, but I am not going to let it affect our working relationship so stop with the animal noises and the car trips and the ‘do what I say’ crap, okay? I’m not your pet.”

“Good. I don’t need more pets, and you look like you’d be expensive to keep in vet bills and food.” Gil replied idly, still watching him. “You’re saying you’ve gone off me? That was remarkably fickle, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not saying I’ve gone off you,” Nick said exasperated, then hesitated and shook his head, a slight flush rising on his cheeks. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“Actually, I don’t, but please do continue.”

Nick growled in frustration, and walloped the car door with his fist. “What I mean is that… well, nothing has changed. Not now, not then. You’ve been pleased with my progress before, right? So you’ll still be pleased with my progress now. I know how to restrain myself…. the shower event was just a once off, I got distracted.”

“Distracted? How romantic.”

There was another heavy sigh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re saying a lot of things you don’t really mean at the moment.” Gil raised his eyebrow. The car door got thumped again, as though it might actually hold some responsibility for the situation.

“That’s because I’m drunk and tired! Jesus, Griss, don’t you ever do something or say something and then realise it was really a bad thing to do or say but you can’t take it back?”

“Frequently. Stop hitting my car.”

Nick growled, but rested his fist on the side rather than aiming another punch at it. “I don’t know what to do now,” he said helplessly. Gil sighed softly.

“Nick, do you want to continue with a relationship with Warrick?” he said as patiently as he could. That question resulted in a squirm that was remarkably childlike in a full grown man. A sullen, sulky expression flickered on Nick’s face, before he reluctantly grunted an affirmative.

“I’m sorry, was that a yes?” Gil wasn’t in the mood for caveman discussions.

“Yes.” It was gritted out with the distaste of a teenager forced to speak to their parents. Gil shrugged.

“And Warrick wants to continue a relationship with you. The actual situation is pretty simple when you get down to the bare bones of the matter. You’re just arguing over the paperwork, which I apparently represent.”

“I understood half of that, up to the point you were paperwork. What, I need to stamp you or something?” Nick stared at him tiredly.

“Well, that’s one way to put it.” Gil replied in amusement. “If Warrick feels that I’m a threat, then we’ll find a way to make me less of a threat to him. Catherine says he’s not an alley cat, but I find there’s an animalistic tendency in all of us after a while. What is sought after in the animal kingdom is often prized with us; somewhere safe to live, food, and the appropriate amount of sex to the species. Challenges to your mate are not acceptable.”

There was a furrow of confusion on Nick’s forehead large enough for several harvests of turnips. “Please tell me that’s not why you’ve been getting me to bark?”

“No, that was just for amusement,” Gil shrugged. “And to prove to myself you’re not the willing slave as the rest of the department seem to think.”

“Well, that’s good.. wait, what?” Nick looked appalled. “I’m not a slave!”

“I know. Unless there’s chocolates involved, I understand.”

“Well, that’s slightly different..,” Nick still hadn’t lost his completely bewildered expression. “So what exactly are you planning to do?”

Gil smiled warmly at him as he opened the car door. “Submit. What else?” he stepped outside and stretched. Nick slowly slid out of the car and walked warily to the front of the bonnet to join him.

“You’re Gil Grissom. You don’t submit.” he said slowly. Gil looked at him in some surprise.

“I don’t?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He thought about that. “Damn. Did I know?”

“Griss, stop messing around. This might be a source of amusement to you, but this is mine and Warrick’s lives you’re playing with here. That’s not exactly submitting. That’s dominating in a sneaky way.” Nick folded his arms and stood in what Gil always privately referred to as the pirate stance; back straight, legs apart, a statement of masculine strength that Nick would probably flinch from if he ever actually saw himself. All he needed was a parrot and he was perfect.

Gil chuckled to himself in good humour, and began to walk to the door. “C’mon, Nicky, my boy. Let’s go find your partner.”

As it turned out, Nicky’s partner found them first. Warrick allowed them to get a few steps away from the door before unfastening it and allowing it to swing open lazily, as though they were all part of a horror film. Perhaps they were, Gil mused, as he stared up at the still features and bare chest of Warrick Brown. Perhaps they were just waiting for the blood to flow and the screams to begin.

“Get in and stop scaring my neighbours.” he said, his already gruff voice finding a whole new level of gruffness. Gil smiled at him warmly and obeyed the instruction, slipping past Warrick and wandering further into the living area. Like Nick’s, it was a surprising mess, a statement that the man had simply given up for a day.

Nick apparently hadn’t followed. Gil frowned and turned around, waiting for someone to give. Apparently he was in for a longer wait than he was planning, which resulted in an exasperated sigh. Honestly, he was impressed the shower fuck even happened at all.

“You might need to drag him in here,” he advised Warrick’s back helpfully. “Nick’s apparently a little shy today.”

“Fuck off, Griss.” Nick snarled.

“And his language is appalling.” Gil added. “Needs further training, it seems.”

Warrick eyed Nick for a few moments longer, then snorted in faint amusement and stood closer to the wall with the intention of allowing the man more room to pass. He gestured to the living room with his head, his eyes still holding Nick’s until Stokes finally, grudgingly, stepped into the building. Warrick casually swung the door closed, then turned and leaned against it, his arms folded against his chest. Apparently the shirt had been the first to feel the force of the new mess regime, and by the way his trousers hung to his hips, it seemed the pants weren’t going to be too long to follow.

“Well?” Warrick’s eyes were a strange sea-green colour, the light dancing on them to the extent that they nearly glowed. “What’re you two doing here? Come to rub my nose in it?”

“Depends on what ‘it’ is.” Gil shrugged, bending down to pick up a book that had found its way to the floor. He glanced at the title, and then put it on one of the side tables. “You and Nick need to talk. Actually, I don’t think you need to talk at all, but that’s the traditional thing to say. Personally, I think you started this relationship physically, and that seems to be the better way to continue it, don’t you think?”

Warrick looked at him critically, and then glanced at Nick who was giving Gil a particularly bewildered look. He snorted softly before looking back at Grissom.

“You forgot to tell Nick what you were planning, right?”

“He had me doing dog noises on the way over,” Nick muttered. Warrick glanced at him incredulously.

“And you did it?”

“Well, uh-,”

“Man, you are whipped, aren’t you?” Warrick snorted in disgust. “He’s just got to snap his fingers and you’re on your knees, licking his boots. Although why leave it at boots, right?”

Nick snarled softly. “Fuck you, Rick. You know I’m not like that,”

“Do I?” Warrick straightened as Nick moved closer, although the accusation was no less strong in his voice.

“Yeah.” They were almost nose to nose, glaring at each other; Gil watched them thoughtfully. He had heard that a powerful enough glare could have the crackle of electricity on it, but this was a glare that could fully power a couple of cities. The shorter Nick, of course, was at a significant disadvantage when it came to intimidation, although Stokes was giving it a damned good try, despite the fact that all three in the room knowing that Warrick would be the one walking away if it ever did come to a fight.

There was a long pause as the universe waited to see which way the argument would swing. Finally Gil sighed impatiently.

“You’re both being ridiculous, of course,” he pointed out, sitting down on the couch after clearing away a few papers. Two furious glares aimed themselves at him. Gil looked up, faintly surprised.

“Well, you are. You both want to see the other in a meaningful relationship and yet you’re still messing around with posturing.” he shrugged. The other two exchanged weary glances, which was not doubt the product of ‘meaningful relationship’ being used anywhere near them.

“We ain’ posturing,” Warrick growled finally. “Just laying out some ground rules.”

“Which are what, exactly?” Gil leaned forward. “And if that’s all you’re doing, why was it necessary to drag me into it?”

“Because.”

“Oh, that argument.” Gil sighed. “Because, quite frankly, I’m a little fed up of-,”

Apparently Nick had a level that he was fed up himself; Warrick managed a little growl of confusion before Nick had pinned him to the wall and slammed his mouth on Warrick’s in a messy kiss. Warrick automatically struggled for a second, before his hand slid behind Nick’s head and curled in his hair, keeping the man where he was as he slowly deepened the kiss. Gil watched in genuine fascination as the pair slid closer together, their bodies moulding together against the wall as they came to their own personal discussion.

“Much better,” he murmured in approval, sitting back against the couch. Ordinarily he would simply slip out from the building to avoid distracting them, but since their little ‘conversation’ was occurring essentially in the path of the door, he was limited on what he could do. On the other hand, Gil wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to leave. The photographs had been pretty, once the shock of who and where had been overcome, but having a live showing directly in front of him was definitely something Gil and his sex drive could come to agree on.

The kiss lasted for a few minutes before it broke off, both men panting and still glaring at each other hard enough that they could have easily ended up either fucking or fighting. Warrick’s hand had fisted in Nick’s shirt and Nick was still pinning the larger man against the wall for all he was worth, no doubt in recognition that this was one of the few advantages he still possessed.

Gil waited for a few minutes, but nothing else seemed to occur.

“Removal of clothing would probably be a good idea at this point,” he prompted, snapping the other two out of their erotic glaring match to turn their attention back onto him. Warrick scowled and Nick flushed angrily, although neither man gave up their personal advantage over the fight/embrace.

“Yeah, thanks Grissom, but-,”

“Nick, shut up and do it.” It wasn’t strictly speaking shouted, but the words had a force to it that illustrated the fact that Gil really wasn’t offering it as a mere suggestion. Nick’s eyes narrowed in thought, then he snorted angrily and dropped his hold on Warrick, all but ripping off his own shirt in his haste to get the stripping over and done with and his fighting position reclaimed. Warrick was proving to be a useful ally; his hands fell to Nick’s jeans as soon as he had room to move, unfastening the belt with its oversized silver buckle and shoving the stiff material down past Nick’s hips.

“Boots,” Gil reminded them helpfully. Nick bit back a curse and toed off the boots, kicking them both off to join the mess of Warrick’s room before shaking his hips to encourage the jeans to pool down by his ankles. Gil watched him thoughtfully.

“Please tell me you normally wear underwear when you’re in the lab?”

“Oh man, please shut up?” Nick shot back, although Gil could see that the little fight was fuelling the irritation rather than the question itself. Warrick simply seemed amused for a change, lounging against the wall as he watched Nick finish his personal strip show. Lazy eyes considered him thoughtfully, a lop-sided grin forming at Nick’s irritation of being the one on show. Stokes’ hands were clenched in fists, his muscles tense and his breathing gaining speed as he stared back at Warrick defiantly.

Here I am who did the deed… Gil’s mouth twitched upwards at the corner in amusement, one finger running over his bottom lip as he watched Warrick snap off the fastenings of his own jeans without breaking eye contact; the fabric slid down powerful thighs to be kicked off impatiently, Warrick’s home location thankfully meaning that his own feet were already bare.

“Griss,” Warrick spoke up, his husky voice even huskier than normal as he continued to stare hungrily at Nick. “There’s a reason why you’re still here, man?”

“Two, actually,” Grissom relaxed on the couch. “One, you’re in the way of the exit, which makes actually going anywhere difficult. And two, I want to make sure that the pair of you actually do what it is you’re doing, so I don’t have to suffer any further accusations of fucking the entire department.”

That apparently caused a little blink between the two; the anger suddenly turned into shared amusement, the pair apparently deciding on a brief pause from their dominance battle to look at him incredulously.

“The whole department?” Nick said doubtfully. “Have you been taking Viagra?”

“Congratulations. You’ve just earned yourself a week of the really crap cases,” Gil replied dryly. “And you too, Mr Brown, take that smirk off your face. It was you and your ‘pimp’ accusations that got me in this position to start off with.”

“And what position was that?” Warrick drawled. “Doggie? Kneeling? Up against the wall? Or are you really that missionary vanilla guy that Nick reckons you are?”

Gil raised an eyebrow at Nick in interest, who squirmed. “Does he now?”

“Hey, I’m sure you’re all whipped cream and cherries rather than vanilla.” Nick said hastily. “What with the whole department and all. I hope you wiped down the surfaces afterwards though, I keep finding sticky spots I can’t really account for-,”

Warrick laughed, and gave Nick a well meaning clip round the back of the head. Nick swore back at him, then laughed himself and tweaked Warrick’s right nipple with a sneaky hand movement. His hand was batted off lazily by Warrick, who turned his attention back to Grissom thoughtfully.

“Y’still our boss,” he said thoughtfully. “This ain’ bothering you at all?”

“Should it?” Gil was surprised. “I’ve already watched the video footage. Personally, I consider this the sequel. And, as this conversation is proving, it seems that the pair of you genuinely require someone to keep kicking you into action, which I am happy to volunteer for. After all, if you two were left to your own devices, I have a sneaking suspicion that Nick would never actually get around to dropping to his knees and giving you that blow job you’re clearly after. Nick?”

Nick’s startled eyes were a wonder to behold. “Um?”

Gil smiled, and waved a hand at him. “See? I give you exhibit A. Indecisive.”

Warrick snorted. “And you’re gonna change that, are you?”

“He is supposed to be my slave, after all. Who better?” Gil replied easily. Nick growled softly.

“I am not anyone’s slave!” he protested loudly.

“Stop arguing, and do it.” Gil replied calmly, lifting his feet onto a small table and settling back. “There’s a good boy. Would you agree, Warrick?”

Warrick was watching him with an air of bemusement before shrugging. “I’m not gonna turn it down,” he confirmed. “But you’re gonna have to remember he’s not experienced-,”

“Hey, I can do it!” Nick turned back to him with his eyes blazing with sexual indignation. “I’m just not happy about Peanut over there giving me orders when we’re not even in the lab!”

“Well, we can move across to the lab if you really insist, but you’re going to have to move some of the files off the table to have enough room to sprawl, and as you pointed out it can lead to lubrication in awkward places-,” Gil said critically. Nick held out a hand.

“Okay, stop.”

“-and fucking on work premises was what caused the problem in the first place,” Gil finished with a cheerful smile. “I’m sorry, I interrupted your whining. You’re still not on your knees, I notice.”

“Griss has a point,” Warrick stretched lazily.

“Hey, you two are not allowed to gang up on me!” Nick had a remarkably sulky expression in his eyes, his bottom lip all but begging to pout. Gil watched it in interest. It was also begging to be caught in a kiss, but that wasn’t his to claim. All he could do was merely encourage, and try to reduce the persistent throbbing that had settled residence in his pants.

“Really? Is this another restriction that I’m unaware of? Would it be possible to have a manual at some point?”

“I don’t come with a manual!” Nick snapped.

“Nah, you come with a lot of stroking and rubbing and oohing-,” Warrick chuckled breathlessly as Nick slammed an elbow into his stomach pointedly. “- ‘kay, man, peace, don’t get your panties in a knot.”

Nick glared at him, then finally rolled his eyes and sighed heavily, before giving him a reluctant grin. “This is still fucking unfair,”

“Many of the best things in life are, Nicky.” Gil stretched, feeling the most unfair one of them all throb harder at the very core of him and vowing to ignore it until it actually caused his heart to explode. “Such as forcing someone who hasn’t had sex in a good year to watch your little acrobatics, not once, but twice. But I digress.”

He was aware of two sets of eyes turn to him thoughtfully. Warrick frowned critically.

“What’s good about a year without sex?”

Gil waved a hand. “It’s just an expression.”

“Jesus, no wonder you’re grumpy,” Nick offered to the mix.

“I’m pretty sure your manual says no rudeness to your owner, so you can cut that out as well, Nicholas.” Gil was beginning to regret his little comment. “And you’re both talking rather than acting again, which is incredibly frustrating for all concerned. If you two complete your cases like you do your sexual homework, we’d never get any resolved.”

They studied him again, and then exchanged glances in a manner that Gil wasn’t quite sure he liked. Nick’s smile was friendly but suggested sneakiness was a mere second away, and Warrick had a gleam in his eye that he normally only gained whenever there was a damned good betting tip on his plate. Nick looked back and slowly bowed, his tongue sliding over his bottom lip in what was a deliberate attempt to draw Gil’s attention to his mouth. Not that he needed any type of excuse, of course, especially as Nick slowly dropped to his knees in a little Stokes performance and slid the palms of his hands down Warrick’s thighs with agonising deliberation.

Warrick groaned a deep, breathy, slightly gravelly moan that had been clearly enhanced for audience purposes, his head tipping back against the wall as Nick’s hands strayed across to his inner thighs, smoothing and kneading with his thumbs for a moment. Nick looked upwards and returned Warrick’s hungry look, then smiled and slowly leaned forward. His tongue delicately licked the head of Warrick’s cock with the stroke of a man testing the coldness of an ice-cream, a slow, laborious lick over the sensitive head that was most likely more stimulating visually than actually through touch. Again, this was not something that Gil was interested in complaining about; he found himself loss for words as Nick slowly followed the line that his tongue had made to gently take the very tip of Warrick’s penis into his mouth. He held it gently between his teeth, enough pressure to keep it there but not to hurt him, before Nick slowly allowed his lips to slide over the engorged flesh and downwards.

Gil swallowed. If this was inexperienced, he couldn’t quite imagine what Nick was going to be like with a bit of practise. His hands were positioned to gently caress the dark skin of Warrick’s thighs without actually blocking Gil’s view, and his expression was one that hinted that Nick’s own orgasm was pretty damned near, despite the fact that this was either an act or Nick was likely to have huge problems on the premature ejaculation front. Gil was willing to bet on the act, from the video tape and also a low, throaty groan from Warrick that seemed to bypass his ears and settle directly in his groin where it throbbed painfully for attention.

“S’good,” Warrick murmured as Nick glanced up again, no doubt checking whether his actions were approved. One hand slid through Nick’s short hair to rest at the back of Nick’s head as the smaller man slowly began to suckle, cautiously at first but with a growing confidence as he found a rhythm.

And so the torture continued, Gil mused dryly, as he found himself watching every flicker on Warrick’s face and every careful bob of Nick’s head; once or twice Stokes went over his capabilities, taking Warrick too deeply and then struggling to recover past the automatic gag reflex, but each time Warrick simply pulled back and stroked him gently, coaxing the shudder out of his partner before offering himself back again. Nick’s hands had slid backwards from thigh to buttocks, gripping Warrick’s ass tight enough that it probably hurt as he used the hold to work Warrick harder and faster. Gil watched the way that Nick’s throat moved in fascination, the little swallows of spit and taste that were automatic, and the way his movements improved on efficiency. It took no time at all before Warrick’s eyes were glazed, half open, and a dazed expression on his face as Nick continued to tease him.

Teasing was right. After a few extra minutes, Nick sat back and looked up at Warrick with a pleased, calculating grin that brightened his entire face and sparkled in his dark eyes. Warrick eyed him back, cautiously.

“’Kay, what are you up to?” he murmured. Stokes shrugged, unconcerned, then slowly glanced to look thoughtfully at where Gil was sitting. Warrick followed his gaze, and raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm.”

“Hmmm?” Gil echoed, surprised to suddenly be the centre of attention and hastily crossing his legs before the other two worked out the exact reason for the interesting shape of his trousers. “Is that really relevant to what you were doing?”

The pair exchanged a look again, the silent communication of long term friends who were balanced on the same wave length. Gil’s eyes narrowed as Nick slowly stood up, although his unimpressed expression was entirely missed by Stokes, who had been captured in a powerful, frustrated kiss from Warrick as soon as he was vaguely upright. Warrick slowly broke the kiss and grinned, giving Nick a small push towards the living room and all but swaggering after him.

“So,” Warrick said lazily. “You gonna help, or what?”

“Help?” Gil tried not to focus on the expanse of bare flesh in front of him, nor the flushed cheeks and already slightly sweaty sheen to both men. “Help how, exactly?”

Warrick shrugged carelessly, approaching Nick from the rear as Stokes halted, and slowly sliding his hands over Nick’s shoulders and down over his chest in what was a deliberate sign of possession. Nick lifted his head slightly, but other than that was passive to Warrick’s gentle caresses, a far away look appearing in his eyes as Warrick’s palm brushed over the hard peaks of his nipples.

“Well, you said yourself that you got dragged into this. Seems wrong not to compensate you for that, right? I’ll take the rear, you take the front..” Warrick’s drawl was the same one that Gil recognised whenever the man was pushing his luck, trying to judge exactly what he could get away with and what would put his balls in a vice to be crushed. He studied him carefully.

“I thought you didn’t want me anywhere near Nick in a sexual situation,” Gil pointed out mildly. “I recall quite a few heated conversations regarding that matter, in fact.”

Warrick shrugged unconcerned, his hands continuing to caress Nick to the extent that Stokes was clearly in another place, his eyes drifted closed and a tremble fluttering through his muscles. Brown’s eyes were fixed on Grissom’s, the light greeny glow offering a challenge. Gil met his gaze head on, unflinching.

“I like to take command.” he replied idly. “Is that likely to cause a conflict?”

“Probably,” Warrick drawled. “You gonna try commanding me, too?”

“Probably,”

There was an amused snort. “Well, Griss,” the words were lazily drawled out, each one so casual the word was almost smoking a cigarette. “Sounds like today’s gonna be an interesting day.”

“Is this likely to end up with you punching me?” Gil queried, just as idly. “Because that might be difficult to explain to Catherine.”

“I’ll try not to. And if I do, well, there’s a whole lot of doors to walk into, y’know?” Warrick dipped his head to Nick’s neck and began to gently nip at it, his eyes still watching Grissom’s as he did so. Nick groaned softly and pressed backwards, his helpless and impressively hard erection bobbing with the movement. It was an incredibly hard picture to resist.

“Are you just trying to find an excuse to punch me?” Gil asked softly, unwilling to take the bait just yet. He forced down his own lust as Nick moaned louder, his nipple twisted under Warrick’s fingers. Warrick considered that question before settling on another careless shrug.

“Probably not. You brought him here. Consider this a ‘thanks’.” he replied, and then grinned lazily. “And we need to start this whole departmental fucking thing with a good session, right?”

“Ah, c’mon, Griss,” Nick panted softly, his eyes opening just a crack in order to look at him. “Just strip already. Stop thinking about things, ‘kay?”

“Hmmmmm,”

Nick chuckled breathlessly. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Absolutely nothing, it was merely something I could say whilst thinking.” Gil replied idly, his gaze apparently transfixed on what Warrick was doing with his hands and Nick’s nipple. He raised his gaze thoughtfully, noting that Warrick was still watching him in confident amusement. This wasn’t quite sharing; this was more demonstrating exactly who had what power.

“And what happens if this goes too far..?” he murmured. Warrick shrugged again.

“Let’s try to be nice, eh?” he went back to nipping the point where neck joined shoulder, causing Nick to nudge backwards again as teeth met up with skin. Grissom waited for a few moments, hearing his own heartbeat in his ears, and feeling his body twitch with impatience, before he finally surrendered to the inevitable. He raised his head and gave a little eyebrow rise to Warrick, who immediately smirked and gave a gentle slap to Nick’s rear.

“You two start up. I’ll get the supplies,”

“Get chocolate,” Nick panted over his shoulder. Warrick rolled his eyes.

“Not quite the supplies I was thinking of, bro, but hell, I’ll see what I’ve got,”

“And ice-cubes too,” Gil added helpfully. “Do you have any ginger?”

“Whoa, what is this, a shopping list?” Warrick halted and gave them a suspicious look. “I definitely haven’t got any ginger. Not sure what I’d do with the damned stuff. What were you going to do with the damned stuff, for that matter?”

Gil gave him a cheerful grin. “Clearly something for another time, then. Weren’t you going for supplies?”

Warrick aimed another suspicious look at him, and then vanished to the kitchen with a little mutter. Smiling to himself, Gil looked back at Nick.

“Well, then. Apparently we have orders,” he knew he looked pleased with himself, and found himself smiling even more as Nick flushed in embarrassment. Gil raised his hand and ran his fingers down the side of Nick’s face gently, following the line in interest. “Still okay by you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Nick managed. “Definitely okay with me.”

“Just to clarify…,” Gil watched in interest as the colour bloomed even further as his fingers lightly trailed down Nick’s neck and across his chest, feather light touches that caused the younger man to shiver. “.. you and Warrick are what I would call enthusiastic amateurs to this, rather than experienced fellows?”

“If you mean we’re making shit up as we go along, yeah, pretty much,” Nick panted, his feet rooted to the ground as Gil’s fingers delicately teased around his solar plexus. “Warrick’s done some toy things, but that’s about it.”

“Toy things?” Gil glanced upwards. “That sounds intriguing. Are we talking the rubber type, or was he doing unspeakable things with GI Joes?”

“The rubber stuff.” Nick huffed a laugh. “And stop corrupting my childhood memories,”

Gil’s fingers drifted lower, gently circling the younger man’s navel with the tip of a nail and causing him to suck in a breath as it slowly travelled lower; it began to trace down the soft dark down of hairs that led to Nick’s groin, carefully avoiding his erection that was all but begging to be touched.

“I wouldn’t dream of corrupting anything,” he promised. “Well, not without good reason, anyway,”

Nick licked his lips, his eyes managing to find a whole new level of dark hunger to fall back on. “And d’you need a good reason?” he croaked.

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll find something,” Gil allowed his finger to slide over the coarse hairs at the base of Nick’s penis, snaking a path through the hair like an intrepid explorer around Stokes’ balls and then, oh so gently, tracing along the length of Nick’s erection where it rested on the rim of the head. Nick whimpered, a soft, pleading noise that suggested that his entire vocabulary had melted away into a puddle of erotic goo, his eyes wide and begging for something more.

“You’re being remarkably good all of a sudden,” he murmured. “What happened to feisty Nick?”

“Feisty Nick’ll turn up if you stop doing what you’re doing,” a voice interrupted them in amusement. Nick growled softly and a little desperately, his hands curling into fists once again. Warrick winked at him, and gave a friendly slap to Nick’s shoulder as he passed.

“Right. Ice, there. Chocolate there, could only find those cookie things you brought over last time, so don’t blame me. And, more the point, one big bottle of oil to make sure that the only squeaking you do is through pleasure rather than ouch, y’know?” Warrick banged the bottle on the table as though expecting it to need sticking in place. He paused to give Nick another critical look, and then glanced back at Gil. “Word of warning, Griss. Don’t believe the cute little boy routine. Nicky’s ain’t as innocent as he makes out,”

“Oh, I’m hoping on it.” Gil mused, his finger continuing on its gentle exploration. Nick hissed softly, his back straightening and his fists clenching even tighter. Warrick snorted another laugh, and then gave Nick a quick slap on what were no doubt extremely tight ass cheeks.

“Okay, let’s stop picking on me, right?” Nick growled softly, breaking his pose and stepping forward; his hands began to roughly unfasten the buttons from Grissom’s shirt, trembling so much that one pinged off into the depths of Warrick’s living room. Gil lifted his arms to the side, simply allowing the younger man to get on with his task whilst watching Warrick as he did so. Their eyes met in silent acknowledgment, then Warrick calmly picked up the oil bottle; he juggled it between his hands for a moment, waiting until Nick had unfastened Gil’s belt and was a second away from ripping down the fabric before calmly emptying a fair quantity over what Gil guessed would be classified as Nick’s hindquarters.

“What the fuck-?!” Nick jerked upright, glancing over his shoulder swiftly enough that he was probably threatening whiplash. Warrick offered him an easy smile.

“Chill, bro. We’re doing it right this time, remember?”

“That’s doing it right?”

“It’s certainly an interesting interpretation,” Gil offered as he calmly finished the job that Nick abandoned, carefully sliding his clothes out of the way as Nick continued to glare back at Warrick.

“Yeah, well, fuck interpretation.” Nick turned, grabbing hold of Warrick’s arm and pulling him closer. By Warrick’s sudden unidentified ‘ngh’ noise, Gil guessed that Nick’s hand had gone straight for groin and was already stroking him with sharp, impatient strokes. Stokes’ mouth feasted on Warrick’s neck and shoulder, the man himself lost in concentration, which suited Gil down to the ground. He watched the lubricant trickle down Nick’s hips, crack and edge down his thighs, leaving shiny trails of suggestion in their wake, and smiled to himself.

Warrick was quick to respond to Nick’s challenge; he growled his own little challenge, and fought back against onslaught. Gil watched in faint bemusement for a moment before sighing to himself. All passion and absolutely no control. It was like watching dogs rut, although granted more erotic and less furry.

“Boys…,”

They ignored him, although Gil had a sneaking suspicion that this was most likely down to their own personal battle rather than any need to shut him out. He waited for a moment, then calmly picked up a slightly melted ice-cube, smaller than the others, and wandered closer.

“Holy shit!!!”

“Now I have your attention…,” Gil watched as Warrick hopped backwards, Nick watching him with his mouth open.

“Did you just shove an ice-cube where I think you did?” he said incredulously, watching Warrick fumble desperately to pull out the melting mass. Gil shrugged.

“It seemed a good idea at the time.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you-!!” Warrick was still scrambling around, his eyes flashing murderous thoughts. Nick chuckled to himself, then straightened and looked back at Gil.

“Okay. You got our attention. What’s up?”

Gil smiled brightly at him as he popped an ice-cube into his mouth and began to suck on it lightly, allowing his tongue to slide over the frozen smooth surface as he strolled closer to Nick. He was aware of Warrick finally coming to a halt, his wary eyes watching him suspiciously. A little eye flicker later and Warrick was slightly more appeased, although Gil knew appeasement wouldn’t properly turn up until Warrick was buried to the hilt in Nick. Well, that was certainly on the things to do. For now, there was organisation.

Nick himself was watching carefully as he drew near, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

“No one told me how much of a pervert you actually were,”

Gil shrugged idly, then dropped to his knees, crunched the ice-cube between his teeth, and calmly slid his mouth over Nick’s still more than eager penis. There was a yelp that was half curse and half moan as hot mouth plus freezing ice met up with painfully hard erection, Nick’s hand having to grab hold of Gil’s head simply to stay upright. The music kept coming as Gil settled into his work, contrasting and suckling, each movement welcomed and encouraged by Nick’s moans of appreciation.

“Fuck,” he heard whispered above him, and had to smile. Gil’s hand slipped between Nick’s legs to nudge them apart, moving upwards to cup the other man’s balls as his tongue slid over desperate flesh. Nick shuddered, giving a strangled moan suggesting that Gil’s tongue had found a particularly sensitive spot, and clearly resisted bucking his hips deeper into Gil’s mouth. This was appreciated; experience was one thing, but having the entirety of Nick’s not inconsiderable length thrust deep into his throat was most likely something to do when it wasn’t contending with a mouthful of melting crushed ice.

Gil’s eyes flickered behind Nick as there was movement, and caught Warrick’s gaze again. He was always impressed by what could be communicated with a simple flicker of his eyes, and it seemed he was not going to be disappointed. Warrick returned the flicker with a rueful smile of his own, then picked up the bottle of oil and casually smeared a good dollop over his hands, coating his fingers and palm with enough oil that Gil was surprised the man didn’t drip. Grissom twitched his eyebrow upwards in confirmation, and then stepped up the pace; Nick groaned deeper as Gil hollowed his cheeks, giving the younger man the strength that he desperately wanted.

It was, of course, a wonderful distraction as well. As Nick moaned his approval, Warrick slowly prowled behind him with the steadiness of a shark circling a wounded victim, his eyes predatory and gleaming. As Nick’s breath hitched due to a carefully placed lick against the rim of the other man’s cock, Warrick calmly brushed his slicked hand across Nick’s rear, alerting him to his presence. It was fortunate that he did, as Nick jerked with surprise and almost got himself bitten for the sudden, deep movement that seemed to be programmed to leap straight down Gil’s throat.

“.. sorry…,” Nick mumbled as Gil attempted to recover. Warrick chuckled, most likely due to it not being his throat, and pressed himself closer to Nick’s back. By the way Nick’s eyes fluttered closed, Gil was relatively certain that Warrick’s fingers had already found their destination, slipping inside Nick’s heat to spread the slippery goodness and also to assist fucking up the other man’s balance.

Nick had very little chance of survival between the pair of them. His eyes were closed, his face flushed and expression dazed as his muscles trembled, struggling to hold him up. Gil continued to work, less teasing and more practical sensation, although he delighted in swirling his tongue over the tip of Nick’s penis and watching the young man shudder in response. Warrick was mounting his own campaign in the rear; Gil could feel a steady, rocking rhythm gently vibrate through Nick’s body, Stokes all but swaying between Warrick’s finger fucks and Gil’s oral exercise. Nick groaned as Warrick murmured thickly in his ear, his body shuddering in response as Warrick apparently stepped up the assault with an extra finger that twisted deeply inside him.

Lost in his own sensations, Nick was as verbally responsive as a sleepwalker; that was, of course, other than the pitiful whimpers he gave, clearly stating that now was a good time to conclude matters before the man’s legs gave out on him. Gil’s hand tightened around the base of Nick’s cock, working in time with his mouth, and was pleased when his target tensed in response. He chuckled softly, allowing the vibration of his laughter to transmit to Nick’s painfully sensitive flesh, and felt the tension increase with the softest of pleading whimpers.

Even with his cock so hard it felt as though it was ready to explode, it was impossible to resist a plea like that. Gil smiled wider and increased his efforts, enough to give Nick a little nudge over the cliff that the younger man had been apparently teetering on. True to form, Stokes was nothing if not obedient to suggestion; his body clenched almost rigidly for a heartbeat before he came, his breath hitching in a little sob and his body sagging in sheer relief. Ready, Gil swallowed the salty flood as it rushed at him, ignoring the taste and focusing instead on the boneless manner that Nick rested against him; sated, happy, and utterly, utterly relaxed.

Perfect, in fact.

Shifting back on his heels, he met Warrick’s gaze over the dazed Nick’s shoulder. Gil gave him the smallest of nods before pushing himself up stiffly, running his hand over Nick’s shoulder in a soft caress before he resettled himself back on the couch. He spread his legs comfortably, then patted the material between them in what he hoped was an encouraging manner rather than calling a pet.

“C’here, Nicky.”

Okay, perhaps the phrasing could have been improved as well. However, it didn’t seem to deter the man who it had been aimed at. Sleepy and pliant, Nick easily slid to his hands and knees and crawled closer, stopping between Gil’s thighs with a tired, satisfied and all round pleased look in his eyes. Gil chuckled to himself again, and ran his fingers through Nick’s dark, short hair affectionately. If Nick was beautiful before, he was bewitching just after an orgasm.

“Raise your ass a little,” he advised softly, as Warrick moved in for the kill from the rear. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Nick frowned at him for a moment in faint confusion, and then glanced over his shoulder as Warrick dropped to his knees behind him and placed a hand on the firm rise of Nick’s buttock. Sudden understanding blazed in Nick’s eyes, and he nodded eagerly, lifting his hips a little higher and watching hungrily as Warrick re-slicked his penis. Not that Gil blamed him for that; when it came to impressive natural scenes, an erect and ready Warrick Brown was certainly a contender for a prize.

“Ready?” came a little grunt of noise. Nick widened his legs in willing response, his hands using Gil’s legs as an anchor to keep himself in place. This also had the additional benefit of Nick’s hot breath caressing Gil’s groin, a feeling that Gil wasn’t about to give up for anything, even if Nick’s hands did threaten to stop some of the nerves servicing his legs.

“Hurry up, Rick,” Nick grumbled, good naturedly. “Can’t stay here forever-,”

The words were cut off as Warrick calmly slid into slippery, ‘so-relaxed-his-bones-were-gel’ Nick with very little apparent effort other than a focused expression at the very start. And Gil had a very good view of that too; Warrick’s little delay had less to do with teasing Nick and everything to do with adjusting a nearby reflective surface to allow Gil to watch in the mirror. It was impossible to resist, as he watched the way that the long, dark shaft eased itself through the ridiculously tight entrance until Warrick was buried as deeply as he could. That view had more than a few benefits too; Gil had embraced the opportunity to view Nick’s nudity as much as possible, but Warrick had been harder to pin down. Now he could allow himself the luxury of watching the powerful muscles and gleaming skin as Warrick worked, his broad shoulders tapering to a slim, powerful waist, and the beautiful contrast between their skin tones that allowed him to know exactly where one stopped and the other began.

Nick whimpered again, a soft, puppy-like noise that wasn’t entirely sure what it was asking for. His hands clenched Gil’s legs tighter, Stokes’ body trembling as he was filled and his breaths transforming into fast, ragged, gasps for air. Hot, desperate pants that were directly over Gil’s eager erection, for that matter. Perhaps this hadn’t been a widely good idea after all.

That was, of course, until Nick gathered what was left of his shattered willpower and bent his head a little lower; Gil was shocked to find the tentative lick of Nick’s tongue over the very tip of him, causing his cock to leap at the possibility. Gil’s hand stroked through Nick’s hair again gently, watching as his eyes opened a crack to give him a lazy, boyish grin.

There were few situations where the word ‘scamp’ was genuinely appropriate, but this was nearing one. Nick winked, then dipped his head again and gave Gil a puppy dog lick to the head, wet, hot and excitably willing. Of course, there were negatives to this particular plan; despite Nick’s obvious desire to slide his mouth over Gil’s length to suck him into a happy oblivion, there was the important factor of Warrick, who was already beginning to move within him. Each thrust resulted in Nick being rocked forward, his hands trying to steady himself on Gil’s thighs so tight that the possibility of a dead leg became a certainty. Nick grunted softly as Warrick’s hands closed on his hips to deepen the angle and increase the thrust, almost ending up with Gil’s cock so deep down his throat that a kebabed kidney seemed to be on the menu of the day.

“Stop,” Gil caught Nick’s head as the young man persisted, despite the difficulties. Nick’s frustrated eyes glanced up before closing again as Warrick slammed into him, a soft groan forced reluctantly from his lips. Sucking was out, but Nick was stubbornly happy to continue to lick him like an addictive lollypop, his indecent and unintelligible noises mixing with the soft, warm caresses and the contrasting tones of Warrick’s hard, gruff grunts of effort and pleasure. It was a chorus of eroticism, all in the convenience of his own lap.

Life was definitely picking up.

It picked up even more as Warrick altered the angle to Nick’s hips, wrapping his arm around Stokes’ slim waist and bodily adjusting him with a startled ‘oompgh?’ from Nick himself. Stokes scowled backwards, mostly as his mouth was pulled a little too forcefully away from his own desperate task, but his grumpiness dissolved as Warrick used his new angle to its best effect. If Brown had been holding anything back, he wasn’t any more; the power of his thrusts reduced Nick to soft, panting whimpers, his eyes open and completely distant as he was pounded again and again, harder and harder until the smaller man’s voice was dry and cracked and Warrick’s face bore the expression of one completely lost in the moment. Warrick’s hand wrapped shakily around Nick’s hardened erection, beginning to jerk him in time with his own movements much to Nick’s obvious shock.

Violent, messy, uncontrolled and utterly, utterly compelling. Gil could smell the musk and feel the vibrations as they fucked, Nick’s hands clasping to him like a life line and keeping him surprisingly involved as they worked. He could see the way the sweat on their brow and bodies glistened in the lights, and hear the soft music of their shared sensation as each note was ground out from them. Gil felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise as Nick yelled out, one of Warrick’s thrusts clearly brushing over nerves that Nick probably hadn’t realised he even possessed. Warrick bit down on Nick’s neck as he sadistically plundered that angle for all he was worth, thrusting deep within him over and over again until Nick’s yell dissolved into sobs and pleas and thrashing for completion.

It was over in a few moments, hard, messy and mutually pleasing. Warrick’s climax had resulted in him all but crushing Nick to him in a bear hug as he silently shuddered out his orgasm with his forehead resting on the other man’s shoulders and his teeth firmly buried in his own lip. Warrick groaned softly and gently released him, Nick sliding to the floor in a ungraceful heap, where he seemed more than happy to remain in a haze of post-orgasmic pleasure.

Inactivity was not, however, on Warrick’s timetable. Still out of breath, Warrick lifted his head to look Gil firmly in the eye in a manner that was almost challenging. Gil raised an eyebrow in response, waiting to see what the other man had to offer and feeling both uncomfortably aroused and yet intrigued at the same time.

“You want to pass that bottle of oil over here?” Gil asked finally when Warrick refused to communicate, giving him a bright smile. Warrick watched him thoughtfully for a moment, then leaned over and tossed him the bottle of oil.

“Guess it’s your turn, huh?”

“That would be fair, although unexpected.” Gil eyed the bottle, then back at Warrick thoughtfully. He had no idea whether the man had a plan, although Warrick was quick and imaginative enough to make something up on the spot if he needed to. Gil smiled hungrily, and then began to clear space on the sofa to lie down properly. It was a blessed relief that Warrick favoured the larger seat couches; the last thing either of them needed was to fall onto the floor, not least because it was currently covered by a Nick Stokes shaped rug.

Warrick’s gaze fell down onto the couch thoughtfully as Gil moved, then his gaze returned to look at him critically.

“You thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’?”

“I don’t know. Are you thinking about ferrets?”

Warrick looked at him strangely. Gil smiled even brighter. “I’ll take that as a no. In which case, I suspect there might be a strong possibility. Although I’ll need you over here..?”

He waited, his heartbeat traitorously fast and loud as he watched what Warrick would do. He was treated to another Warrick special gaze, hungry, amused and suspicious all at the same time, before Warrick rolled his eyes and prowled to the couch. A few seconds later and the man was crouched over him, his mouth inches away from Gil’s and his body positioned like a lion over a kill.

“Go on, then.” Warrick’s eyes gleamed slightly, although his voice was grudgingly reluctant, desire meeting social etiquette head on and just about gaining the upper hand. Gil watched him thoughtfully, not entirely certain whether the long awaited punch wasn’t due to turn up.

“Are we talking-,”

“We ain’ talking, we’re doing.” Warrick corrected, sitting back against Gil’s thighs and taking hold of the bottle and one of Gil’s hands. The lid was forced off with teeth, before Warrick briskly tipped a sizeable quantity into the palm of Gil’s unresisting hand. The lid was slammed down, and then the bottle tossed casually to the floor. “Slick up.”

And that was an order that he couldn’t refuse. Fingers coated as much as humanly possible with quite a bit of liquid to spare - Warrick’s cleaning bill was likely to be impressive - Gil watched as Warrick resumed his lion pose, their mouths close enough to be intimate but not yet threatening. His fingers slid easily through Warrick’s spread thighs, still watching him thoughtfully as a finger flickered across the entrance to the other man’s body.

A flicker of a wince crossed over Warrick’s expression as Gil’s finger circled gently, a promise of things to come rather than a straight out full assault, before he chuckled darkly. “You still worried I’m gonna hit you?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Gil answered truthfully.

“Yeah, well. I’m not. ‘Kay?”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Gil’s finger continued its little trek, flicking against Warrick’s entrance for a moment or two in a rhythmic beat before returning to its lazy, lubricated dance. In truth, he was captivated by Warrick’s expression as his fingertip slowly tested the waters, sliding a few millimetres into the hot channel before pausing, allowing for Warrick’s mental adjustment to penetration. Clearly there was a battle raging within him, reluctance fighting with pure lust, stubbornness struggling with a hint of fear, and even Warrick’s bluff face couldn’t quite cover it all.

A few minutes later his finger was snug inside Warrick’s body, although it wasn’t going anywhere fast; muscles had automatically clamped down, and curiosity had turned to a faint snarl. Gil waited.

Finally, slowly, Warrick began to relax again. A rueful smile aimed itself at him before Warrick lowered his head and arched his back slowly, forcing himself to accept Gil’s finger that slowly eased itself deeper and deeper into what had very clearly been a no-man’s land.

“Hurry up,” Warrick growled softly, his voice rough.

“Patience is a virtue,” Gil murmured, although he slowly began to move the finger within him. Warrick shuddered, and gave a half smile.

“Nah, it ain’. Just people wanting to believe that crap to justify a queue.” he nudged backwards impatiently. “Skip to the chase, man.”

“I’m definitely not in any position to chase you. However, if that translates into a few extra fingers..,” Gil slid the single digit into him a few times, then added one, then two extra fingers to the original. Warrick groaned breathlessly as Gil stepped up the pace, twisting them every so often in encouragement for his body to accept it.

“’Kay. Do it.” Warrick ordered. Gil raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not in control here,” he pointed out mildly.

“The hell I’m not. Do it, or I’m doing it for you.” Hazel eyes opened to stare at him defiantly. Gil snorted softly, then slid his fingers from their warm niche and used the oil slick to coat himself. A fight over the matter was not worth the time, especially as he was simply delaying the point where-

At which point his mind stopped working as Warrick promptly positioned his body over the eager, aching point of Gil’s cock, grabbing hold of the base and slowly sliding down to meet it. Gil watched Warrick’s narrowed eyes in dazed fascination, and then couldn’t think of anything but his own groin as he was slowly accepted into the tight heat that gripped him so hard it was as though Warrick was trying to snap him in half.

“Better,” he heard Warrick grunt, but conversation was no longer possible. What was here and now was the unmistakable sensation of being lost in someone else, the feel of skin on skin as Warrick slid as deep as he could and then paused, trying to adjust without losing his image as the dominant one. Not that dominance was entirely what Warrick was after, no doubt much to the man’s own disgust, and Gil had a sneaking suspicion that this was the only reason why he had been permitted to stay. Nick was certainly not the push over that everyone seemed to think he was, easy going until he found something to shove his heels in about, but he was never going to demand anything sexually from Warrick. No, that was what Gil was there for, and even then, the dominance given to him had been carefully selected.

Gil smirked to himself. The rest of the dominance could be claimed at a later date, of course. Everyone had vulnerabilities, and Warrick was no different.

Of course, now was not the time to think of ‘future events’, not when his cock was so pleasantly captured and a burning tingle was working its way from his tightened balls through his lower body and creeping through every nerve he possessed. Gil found himself purring, a soft vibration of pleasure that should have been utterly mortifying and yet seemed utterly right; his body shifted on the couch, adding his own movement to Warrick’s and finding the power they jointly possessed intoxicating.

He was sad to admit that he nor Warrick lasted as long as either of them had wanted; Warrick’s body was already ready and willing after Nick, easy to manipulate into another burst of glory, and Gil had been tormented far too long for his body to think of anything but taking the pleasure and running with it. A tremble turned into a shudder that turned into a throb that refused to die, building more and more until his entire lower body was aflame in raw lust, desire and not a small amount of frustration. Gil found himself thrusting upwards harder and harder as Warrick rode him easily, the lion turned into the rodeo star as Warrick sat on him as hard and as deep as he possibly could.

He had to bite into his own hand to stop himself shouting as he came. Not dignified, certainly, but he didn’t care about that, just as he didn’t care about Warrick’s eyes twinkling in amusement. He soon had his revenge, anyway; Warrick had been on the verge of his own climax and it was a mere touch before he came, a strangled noise in his throat and his body looking as though he had been electrocuted as he stiffened in pleasure, then completely collapsed. Hot, sweaty, male body covered him like a .. well, hot, sweaty, male blanket, but it was one of the nicest, if heaviest, blankets he had worn for some time. He felt the shock of a kiss settle against his jaw, a private sentiment between the two of them, and then Warrick lifted himself up with his lazy, arrogant expression firmly back where it belonged. He smirked, although his eyes were soft.

“Not bad for an old guy,” he slowly slipped off to sit on the floor, giving a playful cuff to Nick who had snaked forward on his belly to use Warrick as his own personal pillow.

“I don’t believe you, man. All that fuss over Grissom, and you go and fuck him yourself,” Nick chuckled, poking Warrick in the ribs playfully before settling down with a pleased, tired sigh. “You need better rugs. Something furry. Griss, you staying up there forever, or are you comin’ down here with us?”

“Lowering myself to your literal level?” Gil replied lazily, not entirely sure he could move at that point but knowing that probably wasn’t something to confess.

“Hey, if we’re in the gutter, we can still look up at the stars,” Nick readjusted his position to be able to look up at him cheerfully.

Gil’s eyebrow twitched upwards in amusement. “If we could do that here, I’d have to wonder what the hell happened to Warrick’s ceiling,”

“And my floor ain’ a gutter.” Warrick had already closed his eyes, one arm tucked behind his head as a makeshift pillow. “Gil, you’d better get your ass down here otherwise he’ll moan all day. In a bad way.”

“Oh yeah, like you’re real quiet, man.” Nick punched him lightly in the ribs again, before looking up at Gil a little more anxiously. “Wait a minute. Isn’t this whole thing fucking risky?”

“Why, have you set the pillows to explode?” Gil looked at him in interest. Nick rolled his eyes.

“The camera. The photographs. They could be watching Warrick’s place and….,” Nick died off, his eyes narrowing as he watched Gil’s expression. “… okay, what? You found something from the prints? DNA? Trace?”

“Soap.” Gil shrugged.

Nick’s eyes narrowed even further, although Warrick didn’t shift from his stretched out, post-coital position. It would clearly take more than soap to get him to move any time soon, although Gil had a sneaking suspicion a cold beer might well do it.

“Soap? There was soap on the photographs?” he said dubiously. Gil chuckled to himself.

“No. Soap was the motive.”

“… what?” Nick looked even more confused. “Man, if you know something, spill it.”

“Sure, my couch can’t get any filthier right at this point,” Warrick pointed out idly.

“I’m relatively certain that’s not the case, Rick, but that’s neither here nor there.” Gil looked at Nick’s bewildered expression, then relented. “The shower block hasn’t been supplied with soap for nearly two years, budget cuts and the like. This means that people have to bring in their own supplies, some of which have apparently gone missing in recent weeks. It seems that there are certain members of the department that take their supplies very seriously-,”

“Wait a minute.” Nick shifted positions again, earning himself a muttered curse from Warrick for the fidgeting. “I remember somethin’ about that. Some leaflet or poster or something… Hodges. Hodges?”

Gil shrugged idly. “The target wasn’t so much your little round of hanky panky, but of your .. uh… unauthorised useage of shower gel.”

Warrick turned his head, one eye cracking open in interest. “You telling me that Hodges thinks we’ve been stealing soap for the past two weeks for sex in the block?”

“Apparently so. At least ten bars of soap have been misplaced.”

“We’re supposed to have got through ten bars in two weeks? No fucking wonder he was looking at me funnily in the corridor.” Warrick chuckled. “I’m impressed we can walk after that.”

“But it was Greg’s gel!” Nick apparently was still stung by the accusations. “He’s not going to care!”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” Gil exchanged an amused look with Warrick, the other man chuckling again and settling back down to sleep. Nick folded his arms.

“Well, I’ll just go buy a load of soap and dump it on his fucking desk and then-,”

Gil readjusted his position on the couch and found that he had almost been vacuumed sealed to it. “Nicky, calm down.”

“Calm down?! I’m not a thief!”

“And yet you’re happy to be a pervert instead?”

“If the cap fits…,” Warrick’s murmur could be heard from the floor where apparently a lot of sleep was not occurring. His hand lazily found Nick’s head and ruffled his hair affectionately. This didn’t quite improve the sulky expression, although a rueful smile began to tug at the corner of Nick’s mouth. He rolled his eyes and settled back down against Warrick again.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, I get it. Still gonna soap him, though. Thoroughly.” There was a little pause as Nick yawned widely, then he sleepily looked up at Gil again. “You really gonna stay up there?”

“It would seem the most practical solution, unless you’re going to assist to peel me off,” Gil adjusted a cushion underneath his head. “Unless you wish for me to leave in order to give you time alone?”

He was aware of two pairs of eyes looking at him strangely, and Gil had to concede the point. After this much shared sexual intimacy, a conversation or two was minor. On the other hand, it hadn’t been something he could simply assume. This was Vegas, after all. Strange things happened in Vegas.

And, Gil mused as the other two fell silent into a well deserved slumber, strange things might continue to happen in Vegas if luck was on his side.

He really had to remember to send Hodges that thank you card. And possibly, just possibly, a bar of soap.

*

END