CSI
Come What May by Serenity [Reviews - 4]

Nick struggled to open his sleep-sticky eyes, a soft thud and a curse having invaded the dream he was having. His recurring fantasy where he’d been flying over night-time Vegas, swooping low to careen past blinding neon lights, looking down at the people who paid no attention to the naked man laughing above them as he soared back into the star-lit sky. But in the limbo between sleep and wakefulness the bright stars had turned to darkness, the laughing to muted sighs, the Vegas horizon to his own bed.

He pulled the blue comforter down from over his head and peaked out from over the top. His blackout blinds were closed tightly, but the bedroom door was open just a crack, sending a chink of morning sun into the room and over the bed like a slash of colour in the black. Just enough light to illuminate the figure standing in the corner of the room, a shadow reflected in the full length mirror as if two people were stood there.

Nick rubbed his eyes and brought the figure into focus. He recognised Greg immediately, but something about the silhouette was wrong, the shape wasn’t that of his boyfriend’s. He rubbed his eyes again, but the shape didn’t change. It was disjointed somehow, the lines were wrong.

“Greg?” he croaked, sure it was him now that his eyes were accustomed to the dim light. He yawned, tossing the comforter aside and padding barefoot to where the young CSI stood . “Are you OK?”

Greg turned and nodded, his black T-shirt straining to cover the rather large stomach he’d suddenly acquired. Nick reached down and felt the soft, spongy mass before snaking his hand below the cotton and pulling out one of his own pillows.

“Greg, what the hell are you doing, man?” he asked, throwing the pillow onto the bed.

Greg didn’t look up, but ran his hand across his flat belly where the pillow had been. “Nick…. Would you still love me if I got fat?”

Nick ran a hand through his hair, once again grown long enough to get a touch of bed-head. “Greg, what the hell are you talking about?”

Greg pushed past him and sat on the edge of the bed. “If something happened and I got fat. Would you still love me?”

“That’s not going to happen, G’. Not with your energy.” Nick shook his head and dropped onto the bed beside him.

Greg looked up, his eyes wide and questioning, like sparkling pools in the darkness, the dilated pupils making them look like they were almost completely black. “I might, you never know what will happen in the future. I might get sick, or get an injury that means I can’t exercise.” He waved his hand dramatically. “I might end up needing Jerry Springer to come and knock down the wall to get me out of the house.”

Nick couldn’t hold back a chuckle, but bit his lip when he saw Greg’s face darken. “What’s brought this on, G’? Was it the case you were working on?”

Greg nodded, remembering the ‘large person’ convention he’d been to the day before as part of a murder investigation. “So many lonely people just looking for someone to love them, and they were alone because they didn’t fit in to society’s perception of the perfect body. They took any intimacy they could find, because they didn’t feel they were worth anything better. It just got me thinking, that’s all.”

Nick reached up and touched his cheek gently, running his fingertips over the raspy 5 o’clock shadow that had grown since Greg had shaved the evening before. “Do you really think I could be so shallow? I love you Greg, not your size or how much you weigh. I’d love you if you got fat, lost your hair, lost your teeth…. I’ll still be here, that stuff‘s not what‘s important. I’m in this for the long haul, come what may. OK?”

Greg’s shoulders sagged, and he leaned his body fully against Nick’s. “I just… I’m sorry, I should never have said anything. I just got paranoid. I know you’re not shallow.”

Nick moved his left hand underneath the now-stretched black T-shirt and gently rubbed the firm, muscular abs hiding below, trailing his nails through the soft patch of hair under Greg’s navel. Greg shivered beneath him and let out a small moan from closed lips.

“Of course,” Nick whispered huskily in his ear, “there's nothing to say you can't exercise regularly, right here, right now, is there?” His warm breath made the tiny hairs on the back of Greg’s neck stand up, and he nuzzled at the area.

“No, noth…nothing.” Greg stammered, bringing his own hand up to run over Nick’s naked chest, the body still warm and loose from sleep. Their lips came together in a familiar yet always thrilling union, slippery tongues dancing across eachother as teeth clicked against teeth. Greg suckled Nick’s lower lip and tugged it gently, pulling it away and then letting go, the skin springing back into place with a pleasurable tingle.

Nick pushed Greg back far enough to grab the hem of his T-shirt, scrabbling to get the material up and over his head, then started to work on the button-fly of his black Levis, already feeling the heat radiating from inside as Greg threw himself back on the bed, his arms thrown above his head in a wanton pose, face flushed and lips kiss-swollen, lusty eyes gazing up at him.

Nick finally got the last button undone and Greg lifted his hips for a few seconds, long enough to pull jeans and boxers down in one fell swoop, releasing the long, thick erection with a slap as the head bobbed up against his stomach.

Nick quickly climbed out of his own boxers, kicking them across the room and not giving a damn where they landed. He covered Greg’s body with his own, kissing into the exposed neck as Greg’s head strained away from him in a futile effort to wriggle away from the intense sensations. But Nick’s heavy, muscular body trapped him in place. He thrust his hips against Greg’s, delighting in the shudder that he felt running through the younger man’s body as their cock’s slid together, slippery with the clear fluid leaking from both of them.

“Nick…..Oh God…” Greg began, but the following words were swallowed by Nick’s claiming mouth, kissing and biting at the pink lips, the sandpaper scrape of stubble against stubble mixing with the juicy slide of saliva on skin.

Nick worked his way downwards, kissing and nibbling at the smooth, creamy flesh of Greg’s chest, worrying the darkening pink nubs with his teeth and salving them with his tongue until they were hard, the skin around them pebbling into goosebumps. Greg moaned loudly, hungry for more.

“You like that, don’t you.” Nick stated, his eyebrow cocked seductively, the side of his mouth twitching. Greg could only nod, taking deep breaths to try and regain some control.

Nick continued to thrust as his mouth explored the body of his lover beneath him, sucking and marking along the sharp line of the collarbone and down as low as he could go without losing the sensation of the two cockheads connecting with every twist of his hips. Greg was squirming against him, a willing prisoner in Nick’s tight grasp.

Greg trailed his hands down Nick’s sweat-soaked back and across the tight globes of his ass, griping the cheeks forcefully before moving into the crevice between them and gently fingering the tight hole there, making Nick jump at the unexpected but delicious pressure.

The bedroom was permeated with the scents of sweat, musky testosterone and precum, and stifled moans filled the air, but which mouth they came from neither knew nor cared. They moved roughly against eachother, lost in the sensations of pure ecstasy as they found their rhythm, taking them closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly Greg cried out, and Nick felt the hot, sticky-wet release against his stomach, looked down at the pearly drops still trickling from the small slit in the flushed tip. The sight, and Greg’s strangled “Fuck” was enough to push him to the edge, teetering on the brink of his own orgasm for a torturous few seconds until Greg thrust lazily against him and pressed harder into him with his fingers, finding that sweet spot. White heat flooded his belly as he fell into oblivion, spilling forcefully all over that pale chest and abdomen beneath him.

He collapsed, boneless, with his full weight onto Greg, who wrapped long, strong legs around his back. They lay there for a few minutes, panting hard and coming down from their intense high. Finally, Nick gained enough strength to push himself up onto one elbow.

“I love you.” he sighed, looking down at Greg’s sleepy smile. “No matter what. Remember that.”

Greg nodded, liquid brown eyes already closing. Nick rolled them across the bed so they were lying on their sides facing eachother, Greg’s leg still hooked tightly around his waist holding him close. He gently kissed Greg’s damp forehead and pulled the comforter over them both. Within minutes he was also drifting back to sleep, and back into the flying dream. He didn’t know why he was having this dream over and over again, but it was better than the usual nightmares of guns and blood and stalkers and the recurring ’falling’ ones he’d been suffering before he and Greg had moved in together.

But as he glided along the Vegas skyline, he suddenly realised that he wasn’t flying. He never had been. He looked down at the strong arms wrapped around him and realised it was Greg who was flying, clutching Nick tightly. He was just being brought along for the ride.



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