"You coming?"
"Hm?"
Grissom looked up slowly from the pile of reports and paperwork covering half his desk, scribbling his signature under the one he had just finished when the question finally reached the part of his brain it had been directed to. So Grissom lifted his head to look at the person asking such a question.
And dropped his pen.
Right beside his jaw.
"I asked if you're coming, Gris."
Coming? Interesting choice of words, Nicky my boy, Grissom thought while mentally groping for his jaw on the floor. Looking at you  - in a split second!
Nick Stokes was leaning casually in the doorframe, legs crossed at the ankles, one finger hooked in the jacket that hung over his shoulder. Not that out of the ordinary.  And he was wearing clothes, too. That's what a man should do in his workplace, especially when working for the PD. But these ... Grissom swallowed. This wasn't clothing, this should be declared a lethal weapon. Black leather pants and a white silk shirt. Okay, make that tight black leather pants and a loose silk shirt, the upper buttons open - his lover looked like he had just stepped out of a magazine.
"Grissom? You okay?"
Define okay. Did okay include swellings of certain parts of a man's anatomy? Just by looking at  - Nick Stokes wearing leather pants that could enlighten everybody who'd dare to look about his religion?
Shit.
"I'm fine, Nick. Where are we going?"
Good, voice still intact, very good, despite the dry throat.
"Halloween party at the Mayor’s? Remember your boss? Don't tell me you forgot. Got your suit in the locker room, all you have to do is change."
Grissom groaned inwardly. He indeed had forgotten. Damn.
"Give me a minute."
"'kay."
Nick flashed him a smile - Jesus, what that smile could do to him - and turned, not without shooting a little twinkle over his shoulder. Grissom salivated at the sight of his lover's leather wrapped backside. Dry throat gone.
Make that a loooong minute.

*

The party was a torture, pure and simple. Being forced to look at Nick moving around in that outfit, get a glimpse of his gorgeous backside, a flash of a smile, having to watch him talk to other people and see some of the looks his lover received - from both men and women - and Nick not even noticing it, just being his little shy, friendly self. Grissom clenched his jaws and took another sip of his drink. He wasn't too social himself, he hated parties, and if it were up to him they wouldn't have even come. But it was a CSI social event and his presence was required. Someone was talking to him and he turned to the person, catching a glance from Nick from across the room, and a sympathetic smile, before his lover had to return his attention toward the woman whose eyes seemed to be glued on his lover's chest - and elsewhere. Grissom swallowed. God, he really hated parties. And they still had hours to go.
Shit.

*

The drive home was rather quiet, Grissom listening to Nick talking to him about something or other he had heard at the party. He was fighting hard to keep his eyes from wandering over the lithe frame of his lover, not to mention his hands - jeez, all he wanted to do now was run his fingers over the leather clad thigh up north and feel what was not too well hidden underneath... pull the man closer, kiss those luscious lips ... and other parts ... peel those clothes off ... stroke the...
"Grissom?"
Uh-oh, caught. They were already at home, parked in the driveway, and he hadn't even noticed. God, Gil my boy, get a grip on yourself, will you? You're not twenty anymore, and your body is neither. Even if a certain part of his anatomy insisted on acting otherwise at the moment.
"Gil?" The tone had become more worried, a hand reached out and gently pulled his head around.
[Are you okay?] he saw Nick signing in the faint light. Of course, though he wasn't 49 anymore, technically speaking, Nick must have thought it was an episode of hearing loss.
"I'm fine." Was that his voice, all hoarse and hard? Speaking of which ...
"Uh-huh, right. You'll excuse me if I don't believe you. You've been quiet all night, either ignoring me completely or trying to burn a hole in my skin with this look of yours. So, what gives?"
"Nothing."
"Gris-som." The tone of his lover's voice spoke of weariness and frustration. "We've been here already, and I for my part don't want to go back. So, either you talk to me or you don't. I'd prefer the talking part, but hey," he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture, "you're old enough to know what you're doing, right? So, you gonna come?"
Oh god, that choice of words again. Grissom managed a nod, watching Nick get out of the car. Following his lover to the door, he had a fairly good view ... Grissom groaned inwardly. Just to grab that man, throw him over the bed and have his way with him ... the CSI supervisor clenched his fists in his pockets, shaking his head in slight embarrassment of himself. He loved that man, god yes, and he wanted Nick, too, in every possible way, but where did this all come from?  The clattering sound of metal against concrete made his head snap up, and he saw Nick crouch down to grope for the keys that he had just dropped, muttering something or other under his breath. The soft leather tightly hugged those lean legs, stretched over the firm back ... he gasped at the sudden heat forming down south. Shit, he felt like a horny teenager here.
"Grissom?"
Nick stepped up to him, reaching out and carefully brushed his face, "You okay?" The scent of leather, after-shave and pure Nick that reached his nostrils made something inside him crack. With a low groan he grabbed Nick's wrist and shoved the man up the wall, slamming the door shut with one foot, immobilizing Nick's body with his own and silencing his lover's gasp of surprise with his lips.
And god, nothing had ever felt so good.
 

Nick gasped in surprise and protest as he was slammed against the wall, a body pressed into his, but then Grissom bent to claim his lips in a kiss and oh - what a kiss. There was a hunger and need in this kiss like his lover had never expressed before, and when Grissom shifted a little, pushed his knee between his thighs there was hard evidence speaking of said need. Grissom broke the kiss and looked at him, and Nick gasped again at the fire burning in his lover's usually cool blue eyes. This was a facet of Grissom he had never seen before, only once just met - but then he had drawn back, shocked by Nick's reaction. This time he wouldn't, and Nick couldn't exactly say he'd be sorry.
"I see two possibilities here, Nicky. You are a goddamn tease," the hard body shifted and Nick whimpered softly at the pressure against his own groin, which had come to life the moment Grissom had kissed him hard, "or you're completely oblivious of your effect on other people. Either way,"  Grissom snarled, releasing one wrist to let his hand slip under the silk shirt, caressing the bare skin underneath, "you will never wear these clothes in public again."
"Wait minute, you can't ..."
Whatever Nick was about to say was cut short by the fiery kiss placed on his lips again and the fingers stroking over some very sensitive areas, evoking an involuntary shiver. Nick sighed more or less helplessly into the other man's mouth and opened up completely, feeling gentle fingers unbuttoning his shirt to the waist, stopping at the waistband of his tight pants. Grissom broke the kiss again and then Nick watched wide-eyed as his lover - his boss - gave him a feral grin and slowly got down on his knees, hands sliding over his body, followed by a pair of hot and knowing lips until those fingers brushed over his groin, kneaded his spread thighs, bit by bit starting to undo his fly buttons, caressing each inch of exposed skin with fingertips and lips. Nick's head fell back against the wall and he moaned, hips twitching when his pants were undone. Too tight to slide them off his body Grissom had wriggled a hand inside it, stroking his hard member and - god, Grissom - Nick grabbed the wall for support, his lover was starting to give him one hell of a blowjob. On his knees, right in the hallway!
"Gil ... I ... god ...could we ..."
"Hm?" Grissom looked up, hands still on his hips, and slowly got to his feet, not pausing to caress him for one second.
" ... bed?"
"If you insist ... "
The next thing Nick knew he was grabbed by the wrist, hauled into the bedroom and tossed over the bed, straddled by his lover, held down firmly by the wrists.
"Don't. Move..." Grissom whispered into his ear as he trailed the line of his jaw with his lips, letting his hands run down his arms, over his chest, thumbs caressing the hard nipples, closely followed by his tongue, as he slowly slid down Nick's body, peeling off his tight pants in the process. Nick clenched his fists into empty air, but complied, sighing when he felt Grissom's hands parting his legs, stroking his thighs. Then he gasped, moaning at the moist heat that engulfed his hardness once again and his hips twitched involuntarily. He was already beyond coherent thinking when he sensed a slick finger entering him, then two - when did Gil manage to get some lube? – searching, finding and ruthlessly stroking him from the inside. Seconds later the fingers were removed, and Grissom’s weight was pressing him down as his lover slid into him with one fluid motion. Nick was close to screaming when Grissom didn’t move, just grabbed his hands, entwining their fingers. He looked down at Nick, panting hard, and the fire of passion and hunger and something else that was still burning in his eyes made Nick tremble with an answering need. He groaned, panted and shifted, begging wordlessly, and received an answering groan in return.
“Nick ... god, I love you ...”
And with that Grissom bent down and took him, completely, entirely, no restraints, no guards. Gil’s mouth was on his, his tongue doing wonderful things to his own while he thrust into him. There was no gentle loving, no slow and sensual this time, just pure and simple need and lust, hard and deep, and hell if Nick did ever complain. It was him who screamed out his completion the moment Grissom reached his own and bit down on his neck, and he heard his lover’s rough and deep answering groan as Gil closely followed him over the edge.

*

When Nick slowly came back to himself he still was pressed down by his lover's body. Grissom was still catching his breath, face buried in the crook of his neck. Nick carefully shifted a little to get Gil's attention, and was rewarded with a look from slightly dazed blue eyes.
"Hi," Nick muttered, running a finger slowly over Grissom's face.
The other man blinked twice and shifted aside.
"Hi yourself." Grissom smiled faintly.
"Wow..."
Nick returned the smile and placed a soft kiss on the older man's lips, noticing for the first time his lover's state of undress - which was almost fully, just the shirt was hanging open.
"Care to explain now?" he asked quietly while shrugging out of his own shirt and, helping Grissom get rid of the rest of his clothing, wiped the evidence of their previous encounter away.
"I ... did I hurt you?" Stokes sighed at the slight underlying tone of uncertainty in Grissom's voice.
"No. No, you didn't. You never do. I told you once I know how to say no, and if I had wanted I could have said no. That's not the point. What got into you? Not that I didn't like it."
"You did."
"Yep." Nick snuggled closer to his lover, wrapping his arms around the other man and pulling the blanket over their nude bodies. He loved the afterglow as much as he loved the act itself, the way their bodies cuddled together, sated and heavy with post coital laziness.
"Staking my claim."
"What?"
"I was staking my claim... in a way. Nick, you really had no idea about your outfit, did you?"
"Err - no?"
Grissom looked up, cupping his face in his hands, and yes, there it was again, this other 'something' Nick had seen before but couldn't quite determine. A long slow and loving kiss was placed on his lips.
"This outfit, Nick, it made me feel like I was twenty again. Just looking at you, those leather pants and the silk shirt - it cried out 'take me, I'm yours'. At the party, you received more than one invitation. You didn't even notice, did you?"
Nick shook his head, stunned. All he had thought about had been that he had wanted to look good, for Grissom, make him proud and, well, yes, maybe even a little hot. He hadn't expected - this.
"I didn't even know something like this is in me, Nick, I'm ... "
"Don't you dare to be sorry!" Nick grabbed the other man's wrist in a sudden outburst.
"We've been there often enough. I love you, and I even like it when you go all possessive on me. You don't need to stake your claim, I am already yours. But if you want to every now and then - you won't hear me complain."
"Really?"
"Really. That is," he twinkled, "if I may reciprocate, of course."
"You would like to - stake your claim? On me?"
"Hell yes! Grissom, you get one or two of those looks yourself."
"I do?"
"Yep. And don't you ever think," he growled, rolling over so he was straddling the other man now, "I don't notice them. Just remember the incident in Salt Lake."
"Hard to forget."
"Not that. I mean that guy checking you out in Standish's bar. That was blunt obvious, and, hell look at you, you were older then. You're one handsome man, and you sure get MY engine fired up."
"I what?"
"You make me horny like hell. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about bending you over your desk and having my way with you."
"You do??"
"Uhm-hm." Nick started to slightly nibble at Gil's neck, the spot where ear and jaw met, and worked himself slowly down south, chuckling softly at the soft purring sound his lover made.
"Sometimes I just want to shove you into the next best closet, fall on my knees and do you right then and there ... "
"... Nick ..."
"Or sometimes I wished you'd simply throw ME over the table ... just take me ... "
"... god ... "
"Like you did today. Don't get me wrong here, I love your gentleness, I love the way you make love to me, but ... "
"Are you telling me you miss the passion?"
"No! But sometimes I get the feeling you treat me like I - I don't know, I'm fragile? Breakable?"
Nick watched Grissom think about it, watched his face soften when he wrapped his arms around him, holding him close.
"Not fragile, Nicky. Precious."
Nick listened to the breathing of his lover, to the soft drum of Grissom's heart beating in his chest. He could listen to this until eternity, and, due to the fact that they were playing outside the rules of normal mankind already, being what they were, knew if nothing drastic happened, he would.
"I love you, too, Gil." Then, "Gil?"
"Hm?"
"Beside other things...?
"Yes?"
"When did you develop that kink for leather?"