Partytime - 18/24
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Category: Angst, Romance
Series/Sequel: Breaking the Ice
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I love them dearly.
Summary: Events at Nick's party get out of hand.
Warning: Slash, M/M, Non-Con
Feedback: Yes, please. It's the icing on my cake.
Released: June 2004
Revised: July 2021
Word Count: 6006
Gil was eager, if not desperate, to leave for home. For days now he hadn't been himself... if he would have a choice, he would have buried himself in his apartment, hiding from everyone around him. Well, not everyone... only Greg Sanders. Since the night Greg had left him at the restaurant, they hadn't spoken one word to each other. Gil was surprised at how much he was bothered by Greg's silence. He became sick with longing to hear Greg's voice, saying his name, and see his charming smile. He had never thought that Greg could be this cold, this dismissive.
Gil didn't know how this was happening to him. Usually, he had his life under control, every aspect of it and every person in it... but not Greg. Not being able to talk to Greg or being close to him made him snappy and stuck in a bad mood constantly. He sure didn't want anyone to know about his feelings, so he controlled his emotions until he hurt physically, and like this he made it through a week of misery.
Okay. Come off it! Focus! He approached Nick who was sitting at a desk managing a bunch of papers. "What's new?" he said, forcing himself to sound matter-of-factly.
"I'm throwing a party to celebrate my evaluation tomorrow evening," Nick spluttered, holding on to the papers. "Would you like to drop by?"
Gil glared at him. "I meant what's new on the recent case."
Nick shrugged. "I know, but maybe you could make an exception, and..."
Gil didn't catch the end of Nick's response because he caught a glimpse of Greg strolling by, and he wasn't alone. A stranger was walking with him, a handsome man. Not as handsome as Michael Andrews, but damn sure attractive.
"Who's that with Sanders?" he grumbled, staring over the rim of his glasses at the appealing couple.
Nick peeked over his shoulder. "Some old friend, Greg told me. Why?"
"I don't like strangers hanging around in the lab." Oh, come on ... don't be ridiculous.
Fortunately Nick didn't pick up on his silly remark but faced the computer monitor, typing away. "So? Are you willing to join my party?"
"No offense. Not my thing. Partying."
"Come on. Everyone's coming. Catherine, Warrick, Greg... even Sara."
"Well, maybe, if work doesn't get in the way."
"Great!" Nick cheered. "Come around about eight."
"Okay." Gil nodded, and kept watching Greg and his friend.
Greg pranced around, laughed, pointed, was showing off quite a bit.
He's flirting right in front of me. That sneaky labrat. Shame raided Gil at once. What's getting into me? This isn't me. I never thought of him in that way, or anyone working in the lab. He repressed the urge to go over and tell Greg that he was sorry for his behavior, instead he lingered on and checked out Greg's friend. Is this the guy who was on the phone the other night? Is he fresh meat or a former lover? Was Greg seeking comfort in his arms after he had left me at the restaurant? Or did he leave me because he had plans to meet with this man anyway?
Greg spun around and caught Gil watching them. His brown eyes lacked the usual sense of delight at seeing him.
Gil jerked his head around, staring at the monitor, reading the results of Nick's analysis. He forced himself to keep focused until he was sure Greg wasn't looking anymore. Time to quit acting like a moron and go back to work. Time to make a move or move on. Right. Be a man and take control.
For fifteen minutes Gil had been sitting in his car, watching the house with Nick's apartment, not able to get up and join the party. Several times already he had been close to starting the car and leaving. Twice, he had fumbled the door handle, and let go again. He was desperate to see Greg but feared a confrontation just as much. So, he stayed put, torn by his struggle to make the right decision. Yesterday he had slept as less as the days before, kept awake by his agonizing imagination. Greg, being intimate with the man, he had seen him flirting and laughing with. He awoke with a headache and had to take an aspirin. Unfortunately, there was no pill to soothe unsatisfied desire. He was close to doing anything just to win Greg back.
A face peeked through the side window then, startling him. Catherine's laugh was muted by the glass. "Hi. I thought I recognized your car. Nick will be glad you actually decided to come."
Okay. Fine. That's that. He opened the door. "I thought it would be a nice break in my routine." He locked the car, and together they walked towards the house and up to the second story. Gil knocked at the door.
Greg of all people opened, smiling irresistibly.
Gil's heartbeat skipped a beat.
That smile though was presented to Catherine only and faded off quickly as Greg noticed Gil. "Hi. Come on in," he mumbled, rushing back into the apartment.
Catherine stopped Gil on their way in. "What happened between the two of you? Did you have a fight?"
"What are you talking about?" Gil swallowed the bitterness coating his airpipe.
She raised an eyebrow. "Come on. He was shocked to see you."
"Really? Maybe he just didn't expect his boss to be here."
"Gil, you're his...."
"Not now," he whispered, because Nick appeared, welcoming them.
"Hi, glad you could make it."
"Sure!" Gil nodded, and was hit by the next shocking surprise.
Sitting at Greg's left side on the sofa was the man who had visited him at the lab yesterday. The seat at Greg's right side was occupied by a good-humored Michael Andrews.
Gil fought an overwhelming desire to run. There! Coming here was the worst idea. What was I thinking?
Greg didn't look up; the pattern of the carpet was more fascinating then gathering friends.
His friend though, faced Gil, smiling like the cat that had caught the mouse.
"Alan Davies, an old friend of Greg," Nick introduced them. "Gil Grissom, our boss."
Gil shook hands with the stranger and felt the temperature in the room rise. Alan's firm handshake and the open look troubled Gil. Alan had blue eyes, like his own.
Nick introduced Catherine, who had made some effort for tonight, and looked stunning. "Catherine Willows."
Alan took Catherine's hand and quickly let go again.
So, it's Greg's gay friend Alan, Gil figured. Well, that isn't a surprise, is it?
Gil and Catherine finished saying 'Hello' to Sara, Warrick, and Michael, and took a seat.
"Nick, it's nice of you letting me come to your party, considering you and your colleagues don't know me at all," Alan said, spreading on the sofa like he owned the thing.
"No problem. Any friend of Greg is my friend, too," Nick replied, and then he left for the kitchen to fix some drinks for them.
"How long have you been in Las Vegas?" Catherine asked, never shy to carry on a conversation.
"A few days. I haven't seen Greg for a long time and being in town anyway I was eager to pay him a visit." Alan stretched his impressive long legs.
Greg still analyzed the design in the carpet.
"So, how do you know each other?" Catherine went on investigating.
Greg's head jerked up; his attention suddenly drawn to their conversation.
Alan's smug smile broadened. "Well, I was his chemistry teacher."
"In College," Catherine decided, not a scrap coy about being noisy.
"Oh no. In High School," Alan corrected her just as frank.
Silence. Alan's blunt answer wasn't even in the slightest suspicious, but Greg's explicit blushing told otherwise.
Well, my boy, you did a fine job outing yourself, Gil thought, watching the response of everyone else present.
Michael Andrews looked straight at Gil and lifted an eyebrow, obviously amused.
Gil swallowed, his throat was dry, not coated by bitterness anymore though, but anxiety. Great. What does he know or suspect? His regret of coming here grew bigger and bigger.
Sara and Warrick were unreadable. Not surprising just as well as that Catherine stayed cool. "Well, you must have been a good teacher. Greg's our best in the lab. Isn't he, Gil?"
Startled out of his comfort zone, he spoke the first thing that popped into his mind. "Actually, Greggo has become an indispensable CSI wanna-be."
Sara choked on her drink, coughing fiercely. Alan's eyes widened. Michael let out a chuckle. Even Warrick looked intrigued by the course the conversation was going.
Gil felt strangely encouraged to say much more and revealing it all. Certainly, he wanted to wipe the typical Mona Lisa smile off Catherine's face. Though then he became aware of Greg's expression.
He was gaping at Gil, his face crimson, eyes fiercely bright.
Gil gulped, his heart was beating like a hammer in his chest. The next second the light in Greg's eyes was gone. He turned away and leaned closer to Alan.
"I'm not surprised he's this good," his former teacher backfired to Gil's comment, smirking straight to his face. "I taught him everything he knows."
Sara had recovered from her coughing fit. "Had he the same crazy hair back then?"
Alan laughed. "Oh yeah, he's always had it. It was the first thing I noticed about him. Right?" Playfully, he ran his fingers through Greg's hair.
Just then Nick came back from the kitchen, holding fresh drinks for Gil and Catherine. Confused by the stunned silence, he looked around. "What's going on?"
Greg jumped up. "What are you doing, Alan? Stop embarrassing me."
"Come on. Everybody knows anyway," Alan argued, still wearing that smug smile.
"Bullshit! Nobody knew until now. Thanks for outing me." Greg stormed out of the room, whereas his friends proceeded to go dead silent.
"I'll talk to him," Catherine murmured at last, and followed Greg to the kitchen.
Warrick had the courage to speak out what was on everyone's mind. "So, you were Greg's boyfriend."
Alan shrugged. "Sorry, if I made the mistake to think it was obvious."
You're not sorry, not one bit, Gil realized, looking behind the friendly mask.
"I knew anyway, he's gay. No big deal, right?" Michael cheered, brightening up the mood.
"I suspected it," Nick admitted, catching up to the missed event easily.
Sara looked honestly surprised though. "Really? I didn't have a clue."
"I'm sure our boss knew, being the best CSI of us all," Michael said, making a weird face.
Oh yes, he knows, Gil decided, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room. "No, I didn't know. I'm not interested in the private lives of my co-workers, and certainly don't look for revealing details in anyone's." There! Don't think I'm that easy to break.
For sure Warrick, Sara and Nick were buying his statement, but not Michael - who winked at Gil - and Alan, challenging him with a daring look.
Gil refused anyway to discuss the matter any further and bluntly changed the subject. "What brought you to Las Vegas anyway?"
"Nothing fancy, just a meeting of a bunch of old friends," Alan accepted the change.
The conversation became mundane; they carefully avoided to touch any more private matters.
Small talk, Gil, small talk, he thought, but somehow his mind began to play out a different scenario. Taking Greg right here in this house, right in front of all these people, making him surrender, making him beg ... and having Alan watch. For heaven's sake. He bit the inside of his cheek. Get a grip!
In the kitchen, Greg fetched himself a glass from the closet over the sink, filled it with water from a bottle, then gulped the simple beverage down hastily.
"Easy, easy," Catherine said, coming in, patting his shoulder.
"You can talk," Greg snapped, clutching the rim of the sink.
"Come on. If it's your coming out that bothers you, you can relax. I guess, everybody back there already knew. Michael is gay himself. Nick is your best friend for good and Warrick won't make a big deal about it. As for Grissom, he's surely familiar with your likings in love."
"Yeah, well, Sara didn't know," he pointed out, not dwelling on her innuendo.
"She'll get over it," Catherine scoffed at the often withdrawn teammate.
"She never noticed, because she only has eyes for Grissom."
"Like yourself," she teased, squeezing his shoulder.
"Not anymore," he disagreed, tired of denying. "How come you know about us?"
"It wasn't that hard to figure out. Besides, Gil told me."
Greg rinsed the glass. "Gil talked about us?"
"Well, not directly. But neither was he denying my insinuation."
"Does anybody else know?"
"I don't think so."
"Good. It's over anyway."
"Is it?" She frowned. "What happened?"
He shrugged. "Nothing much."
"Come on, tell me."
"What's there to tell but that I broke it off."
"Does Gil know that? It looks like he's jealous of your ex."
"Gil?" He snorted. "Not likely. That's Alan's doing. He always liked playing games."
Catherine pursed her lips. "You're not planning to go back to him."
"Surely not. He broke my heart once too often." He sighed. "Speaking of that douche bag and his recent charade, can I have a minute alone, please?"
"All right. But don't brood over nothing much too long." She squeezed his shoulder once more, and then went back to the living room.
Greg opened the faucet and chilled his face with water. He was tired. He hadn't slept much for the last couple of days. Yeah, brooding about Gil, and having regrets for breaking it off. Shit! He was pathetic. He shouldn't waste one second to think about Gil after what he had pulled off. He shouldn't- Shit! He heard the whisper of light steps. Someone was coming in. Great. I don't need any more well-meant advice. Reluctantly he turned around.
Gil stood there like a boss, holding an empty glass. "I need more to drink to stand the babbling of your forthcoming teacher."
Don't pretend you're not intrigued. Greg leaned back against the sink, waiting for Gil's next move. Don't pretend you're not excited to be near him.
Gil put his glass on the board to his right. "So, he's the reason for leaving me at the restaurant. Was he giving you better lessons than me?"
"What? No. It didn't happen that way," Greg spluttered, in confusion due to Gil's closeness and his puzzling feelings. "He called me the day before we went out. I wanted to tell you."
"I meant back in school. Was he the better teacher?" Gil smirked.
"You couldn't be more wrong. I came on to him. I was crazy about him," Greg snapped, keen to put Gil on edge.
"How old were you? 16?"
"Yeah. Is that a problem for you? I always took what I wanted."
"Is that so?" Gil scoffed. "You never came on to me. Not seriously."
"Maybe I wasn't that crazy about you."
"Weren't you?" Gil said, moving into Greg's personal space.
"Leave me alone," Greg breathed, jammed between him and the kitchen board in his back. Holy shit! How didn't I see that coming? Did I even secretly wish for this to happen?
"Try and make me."
"Gil...," he wheezed, flailing his hands, and then he was muted with a vigorous kiss. For a few seconds, he responded passionately, unable to fight his strong attraction to Gil, and the desire to have him inside him, though he struggled himself free in the end. "Stop."
Gil cupped the sensitive spot between Greg's legs. "I don't want to."
"What the hell?" he gasped, feeling his cock harden. Traitor! "Are you drunk already?"
Gil tightened his grip. "Be quiet, silly boy." He claimed Greg's mouth again.
Holy shit! Greg was giving in, jerking his hips, his hardness against Gil's caressing hand. Being touched by him felt so good, so unbelievingly good. Bewitched by Gil's bold move, Greg put his arms around Gil's neck joining in the craziness.
Though then a sudden noise drove them apart.
"There's someone here," Greg whispered, flustered. Please, no. I can't suffer more shame.
But they were still alone, their heavy breathing companioned by the sound of the dripping faucet only.
"It doesn't matter," Gil said, trying to kiss him again.
But Greg wriggled free of Gil's grip. "It doesn't matter, huh? So now, it doesn't matter. Only because of Alan, right?"
"Greg...." Gil reached for him.
"Get your hands off of me." He meandered past Gil and fled to the bathroom, locking himself in. Gee! He leaned against the wall. He was furious as well as fucking horny. Damn you, Gil! Why's this happening to me? Oh, come on, you know why. Always falling for the wrong guy, that's why. You still haven't learned your lesson. Stupid dork. He took a few deep breaths and pulled himself together. He had to go out there and confront them. He couldn't escape otherwise. Well, he wasn't intimidated by everyone spreading the news about his queerness. Only two guys, he feared to look into the eye, nay, at its heart only one.
He makes me mad as hell, yet I still wanted him to take me, take me right there in Nick's kitchen. Yeah. Sheer madness. He turned around and pressed his face against the cold tiles. Why did Alan come back right now? Jeez! I hate him for it. He always makes things complicated... and above all enjoys the mess he makes.
A few minutes ticked by. The heat in his body had vanished. His heartbeat was back to normal. He unlocked the door and peeked out. The kitchen was empty. After checking his face in the mirror, he was looking as awful as he felt, he stepped out. Okay. Go in. Say your thing and leave. Yeah, sure. On wobbly legs he walked into the living room.
Alan just finished telling a funny story. Everyone was laughing, even Gil's lips curled up a smidge. That made Greg feel worse.
"He's alive," Michael cheered, drawing everybody's attention to Greg.
Only Catherine's sympathetic expression made him feel a little better, though his skin prickled, and he wished to be invisible. Is there a sign on my forehead announcing that 'I'm sleeping with my boss' or something similar exposing? He lifted his hand to rub the skin there.
Michael didn't stop to make a big scene out of this. "I was close to calling for a search party to go looking for you."
"Can we go home, please," Greg said to Alan, still owning the sofa.
"Why?" His ex pouted adorably. "We just got here."
"I'm not feeling well." Yeah, that was no lie.
The sparkle in Alan's eyes, and a slight twitch of his lips, showed he didn't buy Greg's flimsy excuse.
He knows, Greg realized, feeling stripped to the bone.
"What's wrong, buddy?" Nick said, stepping up to him.
"A sudden headache. I need to lie down and get some rest."
"Worn out from running with the hare and hunting with the hounds at last," Michael figured, raising both eyebrows.
"What?" Greg murmured, putting both hands to his temples. Stop it already.
"Well, working in the lab and going on field trips can be exhausting, don't you think?" Michael pointed out, throwing a handful of chips into his mouth.
"Uh... yes, sure... well spotted," Greg said, rubbing his temples. "That's why I want to go home and to bed."
Alan stood up. "I'll see to it."
Greg flushed. He couldn't obviate meeting Gil's burning gaze. He wasn't looking in the slightest amused anymore. Greg had never believed blue could be such a fiery color.
"Good night, Greg," Gil said, gripping his empty glass until his knuckles turned white.
Careful, you might break the thing. "Night, Grissom." Greg felt like fainting. He didn't know how he made it to the door.
Nick came along.
Slipping into his jacket, Greg heard Michael still talk frankly.
"For a loudmouth, Greg was pretty quiet tonight, don't you think? I guess something important is bothering him."
Nick patted his shoulder. "That bad?"
"Yeah, but I'll be fine as soon as I'm home. I'm sorry for leaving already."
"Don't worry. Neither this, nor your coming out or anything changes our friendship, OK?"
Greg smiled. "I know. See you at work." Outside at last. He exhaled and walked straight to Alan's car. The fake headache became real. He fumbled the door open and slid down in his seat.
Alan started the car. "So, you wanna talk about it?"
"Your obsession with older men."
"I don't know..." Alan's forgiving smile made him stop denying. "It's just a fling, nothing more."
"Really? He didn't act this way."
"Grissom's dead sure in control of his feelings."
"He wasn't back there in the kitchen, was he?"
"What? Did you...? Was it you, who...?" Greg squirmed in his seat.
"Nah. I didn't see anything." Alan clicked his tongue. "Pity. I was only guessing by the expression he had coming back from there."
Greg said nothing, though his hope that Alan would drop the matter was in vain.
"You had the same look a few minutes later. Thanks for your confirmation."
"Did anybody else notice?"
"I don't think so." Alan shrugged. "Maybe the redhead. Catherine. Well?"
"Well what?" Greg snapped, which made his headache not any better.
"Was your boss in control of his feelings back there?"
"Alan... what's that to you?"
Alan was looking satisfied with himself. "Knowing you since you were sixteen, I figured out in a second, what's going on between you two."
"Oh yeah? You're wrong. Nothing's going on."
"If you say so, Greggo."
"Don't call me that!" Ouch! Don't scream! Don't hurt yourself.
"Oh, is it only his privilege then?" Alan snapped back.
"Stop it! You have no right being jealous. You left me, remember? How's your new favorite student by the way? Doesn't he turn 23 this year?"
"I don't know. We separated last summer."
"Ah, that's why you're coming back to poor ol' Greg. Giving it a try to get him back in bed again."
"No. That's not my style. I was just thinking...."
"Don't tell me."
"It's no fling, right? It's serious."
"I don't know. Grissom is an expert in hiding his feelings."
Alan smirked. "He didn't hide them tonight."
"Jeez! It was only a kiss, nothing more."
Alan shook his head. "A kiss? Nah. He was boiling with jealousy."
"Grissom? Yeah, right!"
Alan stopped the car in front of Greg's building. "Let's talk about you, Greg. Do you love him?"
Greg shrugged. "I have a big crush on him, okay?"
Greg laughed. "Since forever."
"No, you don't. Nothing happened between us for years. Only a few months ago things turned... uh, complicated."
Alan chuckled. "Complicated, huh? Isn't that something you always liked the most in our relationship?"
"As I remember that was your thing," Greg countered, still bitter about the break-up.
Alan leered. "You're right. Can I come up with you?" He touched Greg's hand.
Greg hesitated for a second, remembering how good it felt to be loved by him, but then he shook the hand off. "No, I wanna be alone right now." He opened the door. "Good night."
Alan mastered his rejection well. "Alright. Good night." He started the engine and drove away.
Greg felt only relief. That's for the best. Getting it on with Alan again would be the biggest mistake. He didn't take the elevator but shuffled up the stairs. He closed the door and threw the keys on the table. He then slumped onto the sofa. His relief of being alone vanished, making way for a great emptiness filling his heart. His own bed had never seemed so cold and lonely. Not having one good reason to go there he settled where he was. He didn't even want to turn on the TV. He didn't feel like doing anything. Before long he was drifting to heated fantasies. Gee! Don't make this worse. Forget about him.
Though a loud hammering on the door made him jump up. He rushed to the door, tearing it open. "Goddamn it, Alan. I told you...." His jaw dropped.
Gil walked in. "I assume he isn't here."
Greg slammed the door shut. "What do you want?!"
Gil turned around, facing him with eyes as cold as crystals. "Tell me. Was he lecturing you better?"
"Huh? That's why you came here? Are you mad?"
"Possibly." Gil rushed up to him.
Hey! Greg moved backwards.
"Was it him that night at the phone?"
"When you bolted from the restaurant?"
Greg was stunned. "You called me? I didn't know that."
"You were in the shower. It was Alan who picked up."
"Possibly," Greg fired back, in the dangerous mood to hurt and goad.
Gil was off right away. He pushed Greg back until he couldn't back off any further. The wall got in the way. "Did you start a fight with me to run home to fuck him?"
Greg struggled to pass by. "No."
Gil grabbed Greg's belt, fumbling to open it. "Let's finish, what we started."
"Why? We aren't in Nick's kitchen anymore. There's no one here to interfere." Gil unbuckled Greg's belt. Next the button flew open, and the zipper went down.
"Stop this." Greg put his hands on Gil's chest and shoved.
Gil didn't waver but crashed his mouth into Greg's. His hands were busy in pulling Greg's pants down.
Why's this turning me on? Why am I like this? Why can't I resist him? Greg tore his lips free. "You think you can come here and just do with me as you want?"
"Yeah, because I know you like this." Gil spun him around and pressed his body against the wall. "I know you want this." He bit into Greg's earlobe, licking and nipping around the edges. At the same time, he pulled Greg's pants down to the knees, exposing the blue shorts underneath. "Nice color," Gil murmured, and tongued every bit of Greg's highly sensitive ear.
Holy shit! I do like this. Greg gasped, clawing at Gil's hands holding him. When he heard Gil was undoing his own belt, he pushed back from the wall anyway, struggling more fiercely against his grip. "Let me go." I'm not that guy, am I?
"Keep up on playing hard to get." Gil clung to him, his strong hands stuck to Greg's hips, shoving the shorts down. He struck the soft spot on Greg's neck then, sucking fiercely. "I like it." He sucked harder, lapping at the flesh like he was parched. "I want it."
Overwhelmed by conflictive sensations Greg was frozen in place. His heart pounded in his chest like crazy, pumping his blood to his loins, and his cock hardened untouched. Fuck! Itching with need he stretched his ass tight, humping the wall.
"That's my boy." Gil chuckled and freed his cock, nuzzling the length along Greg's ass crack. The oozing groan he raised in return pushed him on to rip Greg's shirt apart. Buttons flown off, it was landing somewhere.
"What the hell, Gil!" Greg yelped, bucking his hips, even though he wasn't sure if his movement implied denial or consent.
"Right," Gil panted, fingering Greg's moist ass crack, searching for the hidden place that promised sweetest pleasure. Slowly, he made the tiny knot even wetter with plenty of his saliva.
"Don't do that," Greg pleaded, though he was not struggling anymore, only shaking with longing.
"Shush!" Gil hushed him, now taking care of his cock, making it just as smooth and slick for the desired course. He bit into Greg's freckled shoulder then, at first only teasing, then harder.
A soft cry broke from Greg's throat, and he squirmed and wriggled again. "Please, I can't...."
"Come on now." Gil pressed his needy cock against Greg's ass, guiding the dripping length inside. "For days, I longed for you, longed to fuck you," he moaned, pushing forward, sliding in easily. "I can't bear not having you anymore."
A second cry escaped from Greg's mouth, his body flattened against the wall, his nails clawed at the wallpaper. "Oh god."
Gil pushed deeper inside, filling him up, groaning in delight due to the biting feelings coating his cock. "You're mine. Mine." The sounds of his pleasure were floating through the room, and with Greg's whimpering joining in, they created a strange, enchanting melody.
"As I'm yours." In desperate need Gil quickened his pace, proving his craving for utter fulfillment. His strokes were so brisk and hard that Greg hummed and quivered like a slot machine spitting out coins. Gil growled with delight and passion about his lover's willingness, and the heat winding around his cock. Eager for release, he plunged into Greg's wriggling body, soaking up his whimpers and pleas, brushing his insides fervently. "Yours!" His body went rigid, and crying out, he shoved his cock deeper inside Greg, not able to stop himself from coming so soon. "You got that?" He bit down on Greg's shoulder, grabbing his hips, digging his nails into the delicious skin. Stifling his cries into the shoulder, he surrendered his seed into the lewd body of his lover, thrusting his hips until he felt spent. "Christ!" he panted at last, leaning against Greg, shaking just as much as him.
For a short while they stuck to each other but then Greg pushed him away, fumbling with his mistreated clothes.
Gil looked at him curiously, waiting for him to speak.
Greg pulled up his pants and underwear, trying to cover up his outstanding arousal. "Well, now that you've proven who's boss, you can fuck off."
Gil blinked. "You think, I came here to feel superior of you? You couldn't be more wrong." He knelt and tore Greg's clothes from his hands, slipping them back to the ankles. He took Greg's thick shaft into his mouth then, promptly sucking at the dripping length.
Ragged gasps poured out between Greg's lips. "No... don't please. Let go." He bucked his hips though, pushing his cock down his lover's throat.
Hence Gil kept on sucking, even pulled the delicious length in to the hilt, having no gagging reflex whatsoever.
Greg squeezed his eyes shut and fell back against the wall behind him. His hands whirled aimlessly through the air. "Oh shit. Come on. That's not fair-"
That outcry caused only noisier sucking and the skilled fondling of Greg's come-slick balls.
Greg yelped. His restless hands seized Gil's head, and he yanked at the hair brutally.
That didn't stop Gil from pumping his cock in the most satisfying way.
"Oh God! Gil! I... can't...it's too much..." He was close, oh yeah, close to give it all.
Just then Gil let go. "Do you want me to stop?"
Greg's eyes shot open, gleaming with fire. "Don't you dare!"
"All right!" Gil took the cock back in, suppressing a smirk.
Greg pulled at Gil's hair. "Yeah, come on. Suck me. Suck me hard," he whispered, jerking his hips, sprawling against the wall.
Gil increased the rhythm, grunting gruffly, and sucked mercilessly on Greg's hardness until he felt him break.
Greg shot his seed out, hitting the back of Gil's throat. Greg groaned and whimpered, while Gil kept him in deep, tasting him to the end, milking him gently empty.
He let the spent cock slip out between his lips then, yet he was fondling its head with his tongue, eyes on Greg doing the courteous treat. "You were for sure loaded, dear boy. Didn't your teacher satisfy you?"
"As long as you're satisfied," Greg snapped, fumbling with his pants. His face was crimson.
Gil stood up. "Me satisfied? Not even close. Neither are you." Enjoying Greg's bewilderment, he kicked off his shoes. Socks, pants, and shorts followed. Next, he unbuttoned his shirt.
Greg gaped. "What's... happening? What's up with you?"
Gil let his shirt slip to the ground. "What's up? I'm horny as hell. That's all." He seized Greg by the arm and dragged him to the bedroom. He smashed the door shut behind them. Playfully he threw Greg on the bed, stripping him just as bare ass naked as himself.
Well. Greg let it happen. Greg was done fighting the inevitable.
Gil touched his cheek gently. "Well, we had it rough." He robbed onto Greg, putting a kiss on his forehead. "Do you...," and on the nose, "want it...," and the lips, "slow and sweet for a change?" He kept teasing Greg's lips with the tip of his tongue, until Greg let out a sigh.
"Not fair. You're not supposed to win me back that easily."
Gil kissed him all over his face. "It's not about winning; it's about playing the game."
"Oh yeah?" Greg smiled his most adorable smile and flipped Gil on his back. Easy he climbed on top of him, straddling Gil like a king. "Let's play then."
Greg lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Despite the events in the last hours, he wasn't feeling angry anymore, only exhausted, and perplexed. He turned and tossed around, struggling with an overwhelming epiphany.
"What is it?" Gil murmured, shifting.
"Come on, spit it out."
"What is this?"
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"What am I for you?"
"What are you talking about?"
"A lover, a friend, a sex object?"
Gil raised his head. "I'd say my boyfriend if you don't mind."
"Oh. No, I don't mind." Greg turned to him and snuggled him.
"Do we have to discuss this in the middle of the night? Just go to sleep already, please."
"All right," Greg agreed, and slipped back to his side of the bed. He wasn't done talking though. He was ready to pour his heart out no matter what. "Gil."
"What now?" Gil snarled.
"I love you."
Gil stared at his motionless silhouette in the dark. He loves me? For heaven's sake! How can he love me? What is he expecting in return? I love you too? In a rush Gil was considering his options. Not answering would hurt Greg for sure. Telling him something Gil wasn't sure yet would be even worse and not in the least fair. So, what is the best way to deal with this? "I'm sorry for my behavior at the restaurant. It was unacceptable. My excuse is, I'm not good with people. I never was. Particularly with people I care about."
"I know," Greg whispered, his voice raspy with feeling.
"I'm sorry for ruining your shirt too."
"Good. It was one of my favorites."
"Go to sleep now, Greggo. We need to rest."
"And whose fault is this?"
Gil reached out and touched Greg's cheek. "Mine, only mine."
A couple of minutes later, the sound of Greg's even breathing told him he had drifted off to sleep at last. Just then Gil stopped caressing Greg's cheek. I'm afraid. I'm getting way too much into him. This isn't good. There's no future for us. We won't work for long. I just know. He'll get bored with me. I'm no man you can live with. Didn't I prove that before by letting Mark down, leading him to his doom? Right. For years, he had blocked out every feeling, forbidding himself to fall in love again. But now he had fallen for Greg. He couldn't understand how... Greg, of all people, could have taken his heart. But he did. Oh yes, he did. That's why I'm afraid. One day, he'll figure out who I am, and that will be the end of this crazy affair. Better to end it right here, right now. Get up and leave. That's the best way forward for both of you. The only sensible way. But he didn't get up, didn't even move a muscle, thoughtful not to wake up Greg. Exhausted and tired of being alone, he savored the warmth of Greg's lean body instead, until reality slipped away.