Title: The Position
Author: Karen /s
ksoren0626@aol.com
Category: PWP
Season/Sequel: Set during season 4. Don't know about a sequel yet.
Spoilers: Very mild, some people may not even notice...
Rating: Mild R
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but like thinking about it.
Archive: http://slashcity.net/karens/index.htm Anyone else is welcome, provided they let me know.
The Position
by Karen /s
“Nicky my boy, you’re drunk.”
“Now, you only say that because you’re the subject of the conversation and it makes you uncomfortable.” Nick, while not drunk, was comfortably...relaxed.
Catherine chuckled at the men, startling them out of their mutual grin. “Well, I’m drunk.”
Nick raised his bottle in a salute. “That’s okay, darlin’, the mornin’s still young.” The young man tilted his head. “Now where was I?”
Gil rolled his eyes. “You were tearing apart my psyche.”
“Oh, yeah! Well...no. Not really.” Nick grinned. “I was simply commenting on last night’s dissertation on the sanctity of physical evidence.” If the other two noticed the extra sibilance in dissertation, it was politely ignored.
“Commenting is not the term I would have chosen for your—“ Grissom frowned. --commentary.” Shaking his head, he reached for his beer.
Nick grinned. “*Anyway*, as I was saying, Brass was out of line calling you a computer. It’s not *all* about the evidence...well, it mostly is...but not all.” His pleading glances at Catherine were finally answered.
“I think what Nick is trying to say is that you have been known to play a hunch once or twice.” Nick shook his head.
“That’s true, but actually, I was talking more about emotions. You’ve opened back up some in the last year. There for a while you were sort of withdrawn.”
“Not at all. I—“ Grissom sat forward to press the point, or tried to— Nick’s latest acquisition, a black leather overstuffed chair tended to relax one to the point of unconsciousness. With one last burst of energy, Gil managed to attain a position that might pass as upright. Catherine’s snicker proved that his attempt didn’t look quite as effortless as he had hoped. “As I was saying, I think we all had issues to work through in the last year or so. Mine were as much physical as anything else.”
Nick shook his head slowly. “I wish you hadn’t felt that you had to do all of that alone, Gris.” He raised his hand. “I know. We all know. You’re a very private person. But you—“ He was interrupted by a snort from the far side of the coffee table. Warrick slowly sat up and grinned.
“You’re not gonna win this one, bro. Just give it up.”
Nick sighed and looked over at Catherine. “I think someone’s givin’ up.”
“I’m ‘wake...”
The three men looked at each other and grinned. Warrick stood and walked around to the sofa. “Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Your chariot awaits.”
Catherine sat up and yawned. “I’m not so much toasted as tired, actually. It’s been a long week.” She reached towards Warrick and was rewarded with a gentle tug up onto her feet. “Gentlemen, unless it’s an emergency, I don’t want to see you for a couple of days.”
Grissom opened one eye. “That’s my line.”
“I knew I’d heard it somewhere...Warrick, you up to breakfast? I’ve got a sudden hanker—“ The rest of Catherine’s statement was cut off. Grissom looked up to find Nick leaning back against the front door.
“I don’t think I’m in any condition to drive.” Nick just nodded and slowly crossed the room. Kneeling in front of the older man, he reached down to slip off his shoes and socks.
“You’re not going anywhere, anyway.” Gil opened his mouth to speak and but found it occupied with other things. It was easier to just pull the other man up into his lap. At least for a while. Nick seemed to have other plans.
“I don’t think this chair is big enough for what you have in mind, Nicky...”
“You don’t know what I have in mind, Gil.”
Grissom smiled as his zipper was slowly lowered. “I have some idea.” One gentle tug and his cock slapped against Nick’s palm. The younger man slid slowly back to the floor and leaned forward. “On second thought, I think you’re right. This chair’s going to be just fine...”
“What’s just fine?”
Gill opened his eyes to find a quizzical Jim Brass standing next to his desk. Grissom sat up with a grimace.
“Not my neck, that’s for sure.”
Brass peeked at the open file on the other man’s desk.
“You’ve decided on Nick then for the position.”
Gil took a deep breath and then grinned ruefully.
“So it would seem....”
End