Sweet and Sour

"So all this stuff is only since his...since what happened to him?"

"Well..." Jacqui looked at their male breakfast companions before answering Wendy. "There had been talk before that he might be interested in guys, but no one ever knew for sure. As for the rest of it--"

David quickly finished off his coffee and pushed his plate aside. "You ladies sit here and dish. I'm heading home."

"Ladies?" Bobby looked affronted.

"Since when aren't you up for rumors and innuendo?" Jacqui wanted to know.

"I didn't think anyone said dish anymore," Wendy commented.

Smartasses. All of them. Nothing he couldn't handle though. "I'm not a slave to language trends," he told the newest tech. "Jacq, it's not rumor and innuendo after it's been discussed a couple dozen times, then it's just boring. Dawson, if you don't want to be called a lady, don't sit and dish with them." Smug that he'd managed to retort to all three people in one breath, David stood up, dropped enough money on the table to cover his part of the bill and even managed relatively polite goodbyes to everyone, all the while ignoring Bobby's pointed, knowing look.

That look didn't annoy him as much as it might have in other circumstances, David reflected as he got in his car, mostly because Bobby didn't know everything about the situation. He knew a lot, but definitely not everything. Not even the best part. Bobby knew that David didn't like hearing about the new and very active love life of one Nick Stokes, and Bobby knew that David Hodges had a thing for Nick Stokes. Bobby probably thought the two were related--that David got jealous when hearing about all of Nick's one night stands.

Which he didn't.

Get jealous, that is.

Not that jealous.

No, what bothered David the most about this sudden parade of partners was that Nick's actions were just...not Nick. Nick Stokes did not pick up a new guy every night, or if he did, he'd never been so obvious about it that people in the lab could discuss it. It was one of the reasons there hadn't been much surprise when his co-workers learned Nick preferred men--Nick hadn't been seen with any women, hadn't been seen with anyone, for a couple of years. Everyone assumed he saw people at some point, but Nick had always kept his private life private and never let it interfere with his work.

Technically, it still wasn't interfering with his work, although there were a couple of guys in other departments--guys who considered themselves players--who ended up a bit broken-hearted in Nick's wake. That also wasn't like Nick Stokes, but the general consensus was that Nick's behavior was that of a man happy to be alive and out to enjoy the life he almost lost. Because Nick remained the sunny, affable guy he always was when not on the prowl, most people just let it go, claiming it was an understandable reaction to the trauma.

That was usually the point when David chose to back out of the conversation rather than risk blurting out his opinion--an opinion that was probably absolutely right, but had been overlooked by everyone else. As far as David was concerned, Nick Stokes wasn't acting on his joy at being alive. He was reacting to the marriage of Warrick Brown.

Apparently, this possibility had gone over everyone's head--except David's. No one seemed to have noticed that it was only after Warrick's nuptials that Nick suddenly decided he was interested solely in one night stands, all the while growing more nervous in Warrick's presence. David had, though. David had noticed plenty. For more than a year before Nick's abduction, David had noticed that Nick smiled more if Warrick was around; that he was more likely to blush at Warrick's teasing than anyone else's; that he practically hung on Warrick's every word.

Unfortunately, there was no way for David to point this out to anyone without admitting that since his arrival in Las Vegas he had spent the majority of his time watching Nick whenever he could. If people knew that, then it could be speculated that--god help him--David Hodges was actually pining over Nick Stokes.

Which he wasn't, of course.

David Hodges didn't pine. Wasn't meant to pine.

Now, Nick...Nick was ideally suited to pining. Nick had big, brown eyes that could be soulful and heart-breaking when he thought no one was paying attention. He had a wide, dazzling smile that somehow still hinted at melancholy beneath. He could star in the instructional video "How to Be Beautiful While Pining."

David flicked a glance to the rear-view mirror. Flinty grey-blue eyes were not meant for pining, they were meant to freeze annoying people to the spot so David could verbally shred them. David's smile was more inclined to be smug and tinged with cynicism or bitterness, depending on what sort of day he was having.

So it was just as well that he didn't.

Pine, that is.

That was almost as stupid a word as dish.

"Hey, Dave--"

"David," David corrected, just as he always did when Bobby tried to shorten his name. But what could you expect from a grown man who let people call him Bobby?

Bobby ignored it, just as he always did. "I've got a couple of things for you. I need to know what the exact components of this gunpowder are--there's something else in there. And this residue off a bullet from Catherine's case isn't biological--hoping you can identify it."

"Add it to the pile," David nodded toward his inbox, then went back to preparing trace for the GCMS.

"And..."

"You said a couple," David told him without looking up. "A couple is two. You're done now."

"Jacqui had a few questions about you after you left yesterday."

"Hell." David started the machine, then gave Bobby his full attention. "What?"

"She wants to know if you're thinking about getting in line, is all."

"In line?"

"The one to Nick's bed."

"Dawson!" David hissed, looking around on pure reflex. Then he remembered what a busy night it was and that all the CSIs were still out in the field. "Do you mind?"

"No one's around. I checked." Bobby perched on the edge of a table and crossed his arms, settling himself comfortably. "Anyway, Jacqui thinks you might as well, if you want to."

There was no way he was going to dignify that with a response.

"Gideon thinks it would be a bad idea, though."

David rolled his eyes. Was that supposed to get a reaction out of him? Was he supposed to be surprised that Bobby had spilled all this to his partner of more than fifteen years the minute he got home? Or that Gideon had an opinion about the subject? Gideon had an opinion about everything.

"Actually, Gideon mentioned it would probably be a good idea for you to go out with anyone except Nick."

"QED," David muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Gideon has you, your daughter, two dogs and a job--how does the man have any time to worry about my love life?"

"He's a multitasker," Bobby grinned.

David shook his head, fighting not to return the grin. The printer began kicking out the results, and he turned to read them.

"So?"

"So what?" David asked absently, he thought--hoped--their conversation was over and was now wondering how many databases he'd have to search to get a brand name for the paint.

"So what are you going to do?"

It boggled the mind. Really. "How could that possibly be any of your business?"

"Fine." Bobby stood up. "Say, when are you going to come by for dinner again?"

"You mean when is Gideon going to get the chance to interrogate me again? Let me check my calendar."

"Thursday?" Bobby asked from the doorway.

"Sure," David decided to log onto Dupont first.

"Cool."

Then David was alone in his lab again. As he watched the computer scroll through various formulas, he considered how many times he'd been invited to a co-worker's home for dinner in Los Angeles. Easy enough. Never.

The Las Vegas Crime Lab had definitely been a wake-up call after the LAPD, especially if one worked Gil Grissom's graveyard shift. In LA, the precision David always prided himself on bringing to his job had earned him the labels of anal and picky, but it had also given him an identity in the lab. He was the guy who checked and double-checked and whose trace evidence wouldn't be broken down in court--he was also the snotty son of a bitch. In Vegas, checking, double-checking, triple-checking were the norm, and David even had to step things up a bit.

On the other side of the coin, sucking up was something of an art in Movie Town, and David had no problem kissing a little bureaucratic ass when necessary. Unfortunately, he was never able to bite back some of his more cutting remarks when confronted with blatant human stupidity, which usually cancelled his efforts and earned him the reputation of someone with a lousy attitude. Sucking up on Grissom's graveyard shift? Not a good idea. It had definitely been a surprise to learn that his co-workers were more tolerable of his sarcasm than his smarm. Simply put, most of the scientists in the Las Vegas Crime Lab were there to work in the country's No.2 lab, and they had no time to bother faking friendliness, admiration or anything else.

Truth to tell, David was glad to stop fawning over his superiors, although the habit had died hard. He'd gotten so used to doing it that sometimes he still sounded like a bootlicker even when he was completely sincere. He was being reminded more and more of his first job out of university, where he didn't have to suck up because there was no where to move up but he still enjoyed going to work every day. St. Peregrine's Infirmary in San Francisco had lousy wages, long hours and should have been depressing considering the majority of their patients were sex workers, but those years were some he now looked back on fondly--not the least because they had provided as much of an education as his degree.

Now, after more than a decade, he was finally in another job that made him feel the same way.

It was actually worth an interrogation or two.

But no one needed to know that.

"It's not showing up on any manufacturers in the database," David explained as he handed Nick the printout. "Either the twist doesn't match the strand rate or the fiber content doesn't match the twist."

Nick pursed his lips, "A custom-made string...well, cord. If we can identify it, it could be a big lead."

"I'll see about breaking down the components of the dye used. That might give you--" David stopped as Warrick strolled into the lab.

"Hey," Warrick nodded to them both. "Hodges, you get a chance to look at that glass from my arson?"

"It was actually two types of glass, a plastic, and something as yet unidentified," David said, stepped away to get a couple more printouts. "It's in mass-spec right now." He handed Warrick the papers with as much good grace as possible, because he really had no reason to be extra rude. Warrick had every right to be in the trace lab, and hadn't interrupted anything really important. It wasn't like David cherished those moments alone with Nick in his lab or anything.

"Cool," Warrick perched on the edge of the table to wait. "Hey," he bumped Nick with his elbow. "Tina says there's a couple of guys she works with that she wants you to meet. Says they aren't the kind you'd run into in the clubs."

Nick's laugh sounded awfully forced to David, "I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Yeah, that's what I told her," Warrick grinned. "That my boy Nicky's a player now. Not interested in blind dates. She wanted me to ask you anyway."

"Henpecked, much?" David asked as he handed Warrick the printout. It really shouldn't infuriate him that Nick blushed at Warrick's teasing.

Warrick barely wasted a glare on his remark, reading over the results. "Good," he nodded to himself. "Maybe I can get this thing wrapped and catch a few z's before I have to go into court."

"You have court tomorrow, too?" Nick asked. "Which case?"

"Basengi."

"Yeah?" Nick frowned, "That's the one I'm being called for. Why do they need both of us?"

"They shouldn't." Now Warrick was scowling, too. "C'mon," he sighed. "Let's track down the ADA and find out what's going on. At least one of us should be able to get a break."

"Yeah," Nick left his printouts on the table. "I'll be back in to finish this in few, okay?"

"I'll await your return with bated breath," David mustered up his driest tone.

Nick gave him a crooked grin and followed Warrick out of the lab.

David let out a sigh once both men were out of earshot, and couldn't help glaring at Warrick's back. Really, did the man have to flaunt it like that? Look, I just have to crook my little finger and Nick follows. I just have to drop my voice an octave and Catherine melts.

The part of David that reminded him to be fair--a part he preferred to ignore, as it usually made life more difficult--told him that Warrick's actions with Nick, at least, were completely innocent. Warrick had practically carried Nick through the first month of his recovery and had been supportive of Nick's coming out--no judging and only the friendliest of teasing. It wasn't Warrick Brown's fault that he was hopelessly straight, sexy as hell and capable of making people fall in love with him without even trying.

David sighed again as he began preparing some trace Sanders had brought in. Maybe he would take Gideon's advice after all--Lord knew the man had given him enough of it over dinner. He didn't really feel like going out to meet someone new, though. It was time-consuming and often disheartening. David was realistic enough to know that he was never going to stop a room, even though he could be fairly decent-looking when he put some effort into it. It would probably be simpler to phone someone he'd been with before, even though it had been months since he'd been with anyone. He was quite sure he wouldn't have much trouble finding someone who would say 'yes' to what amounted to little more than a booty call. Because however much trouble David Hodges may have attracting a guy he wanted into his bed the first time, once he did, there was rarely a problem getting them back a second time.

Just another bonus from having worked in St. Peregrine's Infirmary. A definite misfit in his small hometown in Ohio, David had actually felt more comfortable among the transsexuals and drag queens and sex workers than he had with most people back home. In turn, the patients were somewhat protective of the just-out kid who was shy but could turn bitingly sarcastic when provoked. They were as full of advice as Gideon Riggs, although theirs was of a decidedly different sort. David listened, though, figuring they probably knew what they were talking about, especially since some of them made a very good living.

He began employing those tips his last year at Berkeley. Put them into different orders and you practically had different formulas, and David Hodges had always been good with formulas. His sex life had gone from zero to sixty within a month of figuring his first formula. That, and his first few years out of Berkeley, had left him more than a little jaded about relationships--as if living through his parents' disastrous example for eighteen years hadn't done enough damage.

The problem was that David often had a tendency toward shallowness himself--he knew it, even if he didn't like admitting it--and preferred pretty boys with great muscles. Sadly, the majority of the pretty boys with great muscles rarely thought David was worth their time, so whenever David did manage to get one of the conceited jerks into his bed, he employed every formula he had to make them insane. Although he usually had to put too much concentration into it to really enjoy himself and let go, the sex was still pretty damn good and some nasty little part of him got a whole lot of satisfaction out of making the vain glories beg and then come back for more--David always smirked at that pun.

Occasionally, there had been relationships, but rarely more than a few months--the other problem was that once David got over their looks, he rarely found anything else, and quickly grew bored. There had been two men who had held his interest for longer, but one had used his intelligence to manipulate, and the other had eventually caved into family pressure and married his high school sweetheart. For the most part David liked his solitary life with only the occasional fling. Finding someone who was decent-looking and a decent person and intelligent enough not to bore him to tears had always taken more effort that David was willing to expend.

He'd long given up on finding the entire package when Nick Stokes first crossed his path. Nick, who went beyond intelligent, pretty and decent and all the way to beautiful, inside and out.

"Hey, Hodges," Greg poked his head through the lab door. "You get anything on those soil samples?"

"Just starting them," David refrained from any insults because he was grateful to Sanders for the interruption. He had been halfway to maudlin for a moment.

"Alr--Nick," Greg said, making David glance up briefly. Sure enough, the man himself was returning. Greg stopped him just by the doorway of the lab. "Uh...I wanted to talk to you for a minute."

David looked intently into his microscope and listened with all his might. He'd never had any qualms about eavesdropping in the lab, he figured CSIs ought to know better than to discuss anything really serious in a building with glass walls.

"Sure, what about?"

"Brendan," Greg sounded uneasy.

"What about him?" Nick's voice had suddenly become guarded.

"Look, I don't like doing this, but he asked me to ask you."

"Ask me what?" Nick's careless, distant tone was really starting to bother David.

"If you're going to call."

"Never said I would."

The extra drawl in Nick's voice set David's teeth on edge. It wasn't particularly unkind, but it wasn't like Nick, either.

"That's what I told him," Greg agreed. "But he wanted me to ask, anyway."

"Well, there you go," Nick said in the equivalent of a verbal shrug. "He's a big boy, he'll catch on."

And now Nick was moving into jerk territory.

"He said he knew what it was," Nick added coolly.

To hell with Gideon's advice. Maybe he would ask Nick Stokes out after all.

The hotter they were, the harder they begged.

That had always been David's motto.

David adjusted his collar and ran his fingers through his hair one last time. Okay. Keys. Check. Wallet. Check. Night stand--condoms, lube and a few extras. Check. He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Good thing he wasn't nervous.

He wasn't, actually. Not too nervous. There was no point in being nervous until he knew for certain whom he was meeting--the warm and friendly Nick he'd asked out or the coolly amused Nick who'd accepted. If it was the former, there was time enough to become nervous, and if it was the latter there was no need at all. David never got nervous when it came to formulas.

As he drove to P.F. Chang's, he recalled Nick's brief, flustered moment before they decided on a restaurant and then on just meeting there. David found it strange that Nick wasn't used to being taken out--apparently the man hopped into the sack after a simple invitation, without bothering with any niceties in between. Parking at the restaurant, David reminded himself that it might very well be Nick's choice to run his love life that way, but some part of him couldn't shake the feeling that Nick was allowing himself to be taken advantage of. Did David want to be one of many who did that? Maybe it would be better if they didn't go further than dinner.

Twenty minutes later, Nick hadn't shown up or called and David began worrying that something might have happened to him. Finally, he arrived--without an apology--and David started going over some of the deadliest moves he'd ever heard in St. Perry's as they were shown to their table. David waited until their drink orders were taken--at ten in the morning, but this was Vegas so no one batted an eye--before speaking. "I thought maybe you were called to a scene."

"No," Nick shrugged carelessly. "Don't usually go out to eat when I hook up with a guy."

"I thought a little civility would be a nice change for you," David shot back, his tone even more coldly casual. "But hell, we can forget this and go back to my place. It'll save me a few bucks."

Nick's cool façade faltered for a split-second, David could see his surprise and something else that was gone before it could be identified. "May as well eat. You'll probably need the energy."

Not a bad recovery, but the boy was definitely an amateur. "That's more like it. I never figured you for a cheap...date."

"Know a lot about rates, do ya?" That comeback was quick and sharp.

Still a softball for someone like David, though. "Glass houses, Nick. I might not have been working here, but that doesn't mean I haven't heard."

That actually threw Nick off until their drinks arrived, which David found heartening. If it had been him, he would have replied with something especially cruel, maybe something about old queens loving gossip, but that was obviously out of Nick's league. It was nice to know that whatever else Nick was trying to do to himself, actual nastiness had not become second nature. David could have told him that you had to have been regularly exposed to it from an early age.

The food was delicious--surprisingly delicious, even for an upscale franchise--but dinner followed an unpleasant pattern. Nick would do his best to prove that this dinner and anything else that might happen meant very little to him. David would reply in kind and things would progress until David successfully slapped Nick back down. Then Nick would fall silent while he rallied himself and it would begin all over again.

The last time David had been to a dinner where so many insults had flown was...well, actually it was with the last person he'd been seeing. But then it was to be expected when dining with a drag queen and her roommates--one of whom had been a gossipy old queen. Of course, the barbs at that table had been playful, everyone trying to outdo one another with bitchiness. It had actually been one of the few relationships in which David paid more attention to personality that looks, because usually he liked them pretty, but not that pretty. The relationship fizzled before it started, but they were still friends.

With a painful jolt, David looked across the table at Nick and realized that a similar outcome was no longer possible in his current situation. This was not about who could out-snark the other and there was no undercurrent of humor anywhere. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to salvage whatever tenuous friendship had existed between them before this. It meant that there was really only one way this night could end. It would have to end at his place--or Nick's, but David would prefer to be on home turf--with sex. With damn good sex, because anything less could lead to amusement and maybe a sense of superiority from Nick--or even worse: pity from Nick.

Silence had fallen the last time the waiter came by to return David's credit card and receipt and continued through dessert, which David found something of a relief. Usually flinging insults invigorated him, but this had been a very tiring dinner.

Nick set his fork down and pushed his plate aside. "We done playing?"

Years of practice allowed David to keep his expression bland. "We're done. Back to my place?"

"Sure. What the hell?"

David nearly told Nick to leave off the what the hell? part next time. It reeked of false bravado. "I live in the Equinox Gardens on Solandra. Number seventeen. Unless you want to leave your truck here and I'll drive."

There was a missed beat before Nick replied. "Better not. Doubt I'll be there very long."

David arched an eyebrow as he stood. It was the only acknowledgment he gave that Nick's last shot was a pretty good one. Then, although it took more effort than he'd expected, he walked to his car without looking back as though he was positive Nick would follow. Once he was away and checked the rear view mirror, he saw Nick's truck was indeed, right behind.

As he drove through the front gate of his complex and then made sure Nick was able to drive in as well, David was torn between relief and disbelief, unable to shake the feeling that things just shouldn't be happening this way. Oh, whatever else, the sex would be good for both of them--he had plenty of ways to make sure of that, but it would also be bitter, maybe even hostile. David could take that as well as dish it out, and even enjoy it, but he never expected it to be like that if he ever had the opportunity with Nick.

Somewhere, way back in one of those fantasies he barely acknowledged at all, David had always imagined that Nick would be able to bring enough tenderness, enough sweetness to any encounter to tide them over until David figured that part out for himself.

With a sharp shake of his head, David parked his car and watched as Nick found the visitors' parking with no trouble. He remained where he was while Nick walked toward him, wondering again just how bad an idea this was. Then he quickly got out of the car before Nick could even begin to suspect something was wrong.

Silently, he led Nick to his townhouse and went inside, flicking on the lights as he passed them. When he turned to face Nick, David was somewhat gratified to see him looking around curiously but trying to conceal it. For a brief moment, David thought Nick might back out after all. He shrugged out of his blazer, forgetting that he was wearing a thin, tight-fitting sweater until he saw Nick's expression.

For the first time that night, Nick looked truly interested.

David only had a brief moment to try and decide whether he felt smug or nervous. Then Nick was moving toward him and anticipation took over.

Nick trailed a finger lightly from David's collar to his belt. "You asked me out," he said. "So you go first." His tone was just indifferent enough to be a challenge, as were the two fingers that slid briefly under the hem of his sweater.

David never expected to be jittery about this part--he'd never before had a problem undressing in front of a potential lover. He might not be as gorgeously built as Nick--he'd taken a peek at the shirtless CSI in the locker room whenever he had the chance, he was no fool--but David had never had any complaints either. His workout was probably nowhere near that of Nick or Warrick, but he did laps in one of the complex's pools every day, a couple of miles at his gym's Olympic-sized pool three or four times a week and even weights every now and then. Keeping that in mind, David pulled his sweater off before Nick decided to help him.

And Nick stared.

Nick actually looked impressed, and David suddenly felt some good humor--absent all evening--returning. Then he noticed something else in Nick's expression and narrowed his eyes. No. Surely that couldn't be...it was. David's lip curled.

The son of a bitch had the nerve to look surprised.

What had Nick thought? That he was doing David some sort of big favor by sleeping with him? That he'd have some entertaining interlude to look back on later?

Well, this pretty boy was in for a bit more than he'd planned.

David grasped the back of Nick's neck and pulled him in close for a hard, devouring kiss. There was only the briefest hesitation from Nick before he responded, opening his mouth under David's demanding lips and reaching out to touch David's bare torso. Allowing himself a single shudder under Nick's eager fingers, David then focused his attention on his goal, and the first step was exploring every recess of Nick's mouth while unbuttoning Nick's shirt.

He found Nick's nipples, and Nick moaned into his mouth, giving David the next step in his formula. He began kissing his way down, stopping briefly to suck on Nick's collarbone hard enough to leave a mark, then took a pebbled nipple between his teeth. Sucking, nibbling and even nipping by turns, David used his fingers to assure the opposite nubbin wasn't neglected. Nick stumbled back a few steps until he came up against a wall, his hands alternately cradling David's head and clutching at his hair.

As he worked his way down, lavishing attention on the hard abs and navel, David reflected briefly that Nick wasn't making any attempt to take the lead. That was a bit of a disappointment, because there was nothing David loved more than topping a top, but he soon decided those breathless little noises that kept escaping Nick more than made up for it. Nick clutched at his shoulders, trying to draw him back up, but David remained intent on his new task--getting Nick's jeans opened enough to partially free his erection. He only licked the head briefly before standing again. "Bedroom?" he asked Nick.

Nick was looking a little dazed, but he nodded and followed willingly when David hooked a finger into a belt loop to tug him along. "Do you--have what we need?" he asked when David gave him a push onto the bed.

"What do you think?" David actually impressed himself in that moment. It was no easy feet to keep your tone dry and bored when you were taking off your pants and had a half-naked Nick Stokes waiting on your bed. He leaned over for another deep kiss before concentrating on turning half-naked into completely naked. Nick was eager to help, kicking his jeans off the rest of the way once David got them past his knees.

With no lead up at all, David suddenly bent and took three-quarters of Nick's length into his mouth.

"Jesus!" Nick yelped as he tried to sit up, only to fall back again. "My god..."

This part was certainly no chore for David. Nick's cock was as beautifully proportioned as the rest of him and Nick's reaction was everything he could have hoped for. He stopped only briefly to retrieve a condom and some lube from the night stand, casually pushing Nick's hands away when the younger man reached for him. Instead, he applied his mouth to the straining erection again, while he deftly coated his fingers with lube and slid one hand under Nick's taut, arching body. One, then two fingers slid in with no trouble, and he wrung another cry from Nick when he rubbed one finger against the sensitive gland.

Now it was time for the second part of this formula.

Withdrawing both fingers and mouth, David knelt between Nick's legs and opened the condom, rolling it on while Nick watched with hot, dark eyes. "You want this, right?" he asked.

Nick's only answer to draw his legs up.

David carefully pushed past the ring of muscle, and then sank himself into that tight warmth. In that instant he wanted to say to hell with the formula, to let this be it, to just let go now, because oh my god, this was Nick and he never actually thought this would happen--

No.

No, goddamn it. If he let himself go now it would be just like every other one night stand Nick had, and if nothing else, Nick was damn well going to remember him.

Regaining control, David began to thrust slowly, and smiled when he noted that Nick's erection softened considerably when he was entered. That was all he needed to know to complete this equation. A few more thrusts, sliding across Nick's prostate as he went, and Nick pulled his legs higher. That's when David eased himself out, leaving Nick blinking in confusion.

"Is something wrong? What are y--oooohhh..." Nick's eyes slid shut as David began tracing all the contours of his thighs and hipbones with a very agile tongue, then used that tongue to coax him back to full hardness. David took Nick right to the edge, then sat up and lifted the toned legs, thrusting inside to take Nick back down.

The second time David did this, Nick didn't ask any questions.

The third time, Nick did a lot of panting and some very creative cursing.

By the fourth, Nick was writhing on the bed, a fine sheen of sweat glistening over his body and frantic pleas babbling from his mouth.

David brought Nick's ankles to rest on his shoulders, and drove into him for the last time, riding him hard and fast. He was pounding against the prostate now, and Nick soon hardened again, but this time, David encircled him with a hand still slick with lube and began pumping him in time. Nick didn't quite scream when he came, but the strangled cry that escaped him was close enough. As Nick bucked wildly in the throes of his powerful orgasm, David finally let himself go, thrusting into the writhing body beneath him.

Oh god...oh god,yes! David wanted to shout, but managed to keep himself to a series of loud groans as he collapsed on top of Nick's still-twitching form. He listened to Nick's ragged breathing while trying to catch his own, then carefully withdrew. Nick's legs fell limply to the mattress, his eyes were closed and he didn't move except for the occasional shiver.

Allowing himself a small smirk, David disposed of the condom and grabbed a small towel to clean up a little. Nick's body was completely lax, and he didn't let out so much as a murmur when David wiped him off a bit and then tossed some covers over him.

Nick let out a soft snore and David nodded to himself--if Nick had been capable of anything except sleep, it would have meant David's formula had failed. With a sigh, David slid under the covers. Everything had gone exactly as he'd planned. He'd just have to deal with the fact that very little had gone the way he wanted.

Fortunately, he had plenty of experience in that area.

Nick floated briefly before struggling to the surface, knowing even before he was fully awake that he was emerging from the heaviest sleep he'd had in a long time. It actually felt good, and he stretched luxuriously. A twinge in his legs--and a few other places--brought him more sharply into focus. They weren't unpleasant twinges--just the opposite, in fact, and Nick found himself smiling as he opened his eyes.

"Wow," he murmured, recalling the events of that morning. He looked around the shaded room, then reached to turn on the bedside lamp, the movement sending another series of tiny sparks through his nerves. Flopping back onto the bed, Nick shimmied his hips and stretched a little more, just so his body would remind him again how thoroughly--and amazingly--it had been used.

Who knew David Hodges was so mind-numbingly talented?

And where the hell was the guy, anyway?

Nick sat up and looked around, taking in the room's sleek, somewhat retro furnishings before his eyes fell on a piece of paper on the night stand that he hadn't noticed before. Curious, he picked it up.

I had an appointment and didn't know if you were particularly annoying when you're woken up, so I didn't bother. Shower is through the first door on your left. There should be coffee left in the kitchen.

Even David's note had a bit of an attitude. A small sound of amusement escaped Nick.

His jeans and shorts were at the foot of the bed, his shoes and socks on the floor beside it. He scooped everything up and headed for the bathroom. He took the briefest of showers and did his best to leave the room just as he'd found it. It felt--not uncomfortable, but...odd to be left alone in someone's place, especially considering it was the first time he'd ever been there. He couldn't imagine any of the other men he'd been with leaving him alone in their apartments, and he certainly wouldn't have felt comfortable leaving any of them at his place--not even those he'd dated from work. But then, they had been from other departments, whereas Nick had been working with David for nearly four years. What's more, neither of them had practically assaulted a messenger in an attempt to help him. That's what he'd heard from Greg, anyway, although he'd never been able to picture it. Now it was a little easier to believe.

He found his shirt draped over the back of dining chair and slipped it on. He hadn't planned on getting any coffee, but the scent of it wafting from the kitchen was too much to resist. It wasn't Blue Hawaiian, and Nick wondered why he thought it would be. It was definitely some sort of specialty blend, though.

As he stood at the counter, sipping, Nick tried to decide whether he actually enjoyed the "date" or not. Not the sex, because there was no question about that part, but dinner?

No, you didn't. Because he was rude.

Yes, you did. Because he was rude.

David was one of the few people who didn't act as though everything Nick was doing was all right. Nick rarely made excuses for things he did or things he said since the abduction. He didn't have to, because everyone seemed willing to do that for him. Almost as though to make up for the eggshell treatment from his friends and co-worker, most of the partners he said yes to were getting rougher and meaner all the time. Nick knew it was stupid and dangerous, but that was exactly what he wanted--he had to stay alert, he had to keep focused on what could happen if he'd chosen poorly. That way his mind didn't wander off to--

Best friends who'd gotten married.

--subjects best left alone.

Nick didn't need a shrink to tell him this was immature, self-destructive behavior. Which was just as well because he'd stopped going the moment his required visits were up.

When David asked him out, he'd actually felt hurt--betrayed somehow. Which was ridiculous because they weren't close or anything. They just happened to have fun bantering at work. If David had asked him at any other time, he might have said yes for very different reasons rather than to--

Well, he still wasn't entirely sure why he'd accepted. David was nothing like the men Nick usually chose--Nick liked them to be several inches taller and about thirty pounds heavier than he was. Looks didn't really matter, because Nick would always just close his eyes and picture--

Don't go there.

--someone else, anyway.

David and Nick were about the same size, but that quickly became a non-issue in light of David's lean, toned body and highly aggressive nature. In many ways, he was the one of the most aggressive partners Nick had been with, except that David hadn't tried to dish out anything but pleasure.

And he had. A lot of it.

One of the best things about it, though, was that David made it impossible to think about anything except what he was doing at that very moment. Without having to be watchful and wary. It was a relief that Nick hadn't even known he'd wanted.

It was also something Nick very much wanted to experience again.

Really, wouldn't it be only polite to ask David out for dinner in turn?

David wasn't exactly shocked when Nick asked him out for dinner a few days later. He'd actually been expecting it, what with the looks Nick had been casting in his direction. Those looks were a heady combination of shyness, heat and newfound admiration that David kept telling himself should really piss him off. What Nick needed was to be reminded of the definition of "one night stand" and to be told that he had no right look so appealingly shy considering his recent track record. So, of course, when Nick asked him to dinner there was only one thing David could reply.

Yes.

He might be cynical, but David Hodges wasn't stupid.

Nick didn't try to maintain his stone-cold player attitude at dinner this time, and was his usual friendly, good-natured self.

David was having none of it.

Any attempt Nick made at conversation that went beyond work was so ruthlessly squashed that he gave up before long. He didn't seem too unhappy with the mostly silent meal.

They went to Nick's afterward where David spent a very long time exploring every bit of Nick's skin with fingers, lips, teeth and tongue. Every bit except the most important ones, that is. Instead, David focused on areas he knew were often ignored and found that in Nick's case, the navel, the backs of his knees and the small of his back were all extra-sensitive.

The only time David actually touched Nick's straining, leaking erection was to wrap his fingers tightly around the base to hold Nick off. Seeing as he was practically fucking Nick's navel with his tongue and occasionally nuzzling along the pelvic bone while he prevented Nick's release, he knew it was particularly torturous. He flipped Nick onto his stomach and spent an equally long time tracing the contours of his back, and when David applied his tongue to the creases where thigh met buttock, Nick bucked so hard he nearly jolted David off the bed. By the time David focused he attention between those firm cheeks, Nick was practically sobbing, and this time, Nick did scream when he came, although his face was pressed into the pillows, muffling most of it.

Nick greyed out for several minutes, made an unsuccessful attempt to say something when David was cleaning him up, and then fell into a deep sleep.

David got dressed and went home.

A week later, Nick invited him for breakfast after shift. David said there was no reason to bother with food anymore, so they went to Nick's where David tormented Nick until he begged, then fucked him until he was exhausted and left shortly after. Again.

And so it went until, almost before David realized it, more than a month had passed. A month during which he and Nick met three or four times a week. Five weeks of abundant great sex, a minimum of conversation, and intricate head games were enough to leave David both infuriated and weary. The head games were especially provoking because David had the suspicion he was the only one playing them. Nick either was unaware of or choosing to ignore their necessity.

For the most part, Nick accepted the limitations David silently imposed on their encounters. From time to time he would make the attempt to talk or touch without it being sexual and then look disappointed when David firmly blocked these attempts, but none of it was enough for him to call the whole thing off.

That kept things mostly silent, because Nick wasn't much of a talker during sex. It was something that had surprised David, actually. Oh, he could wring all sorts of noises from Nick, but there were few actual words. David found he liked it that way. The near-silence made the sex even more intense and helped avoid any more complications. Further to that end, David did everything he knew how--and he knew plenty--to see to it that Nick was too busy before and too tired after for anything more than a brief sentence or two. If they were at Nick's, David was always up and gone less than an hour after they were finished. If they were at his place it was more difficult, but he usually managed to find somewhere else to be.

There were times when David wondered what the point was to all this, when he could have just as easily had great sex with any number of guys and not have to expend so much energy plotting and calculating how much time, how much talking, how much touching they could do without crossing his self-imposed line. But this was Nick. Nick wanted to be with him and if David turned that opportunity down, that would make him an idiot. Right? And even though Nick wanted to be with him, David had no way of knowing what or where Nick's feeling might truly be, so all these precautions were for the best. Right?

Right.

That's what David told himself for what seemed like the hundredth time as he answered his door. On the other side was Nick, all warm smiles and soft brown eyes, damn him. It was really unfair because the original deal had been for the Nick who was cold-hearted and a jerk, not this one who made David think of lazy mornings and holding hands and all that other crap that normally made his teeth hurt.

David stood aside to let Nick in, eyeing the bag he was holding warily.

"I brought breakfast," Nick said, lifting the bag slightly.

"I didn't invite you for breakfast."

"I know, but I thought--"

"Later," David took the bag from him and set it on the counter.

"We never get to later," Nick pointed out, trying even though David had successfully backed him up against a wall. "We--" The rest of his words were muffled as David stopped the conversation the way he always did. "Wait," he insisted, pushing David's hands away from his belt. "C'mon--"

"Don't tell me you're actually tired of sex." David stepped back and folded his arms. They were done. He was ready to deal with that. He was.

"It's just...do we always have to be so--" Nick shrugged uncomfortably. "Don't you ever just relax?"

That was a bit rich coming from him. "Of course I relax," David retorted. "With my friends."

Nick blinked. "We're not friends?"

"Is every guy you've slept with a friend?" David knew he sounded especially caustic with that question.

"No. But that's why I never slept with any of them more than--David, this is different."

"Not really. It's just lasting a bit longer."

Nick tilted his head slightly, but before he could ask any more questions, David grabbed a handful of his shirt and pulled him in for a searing kiss.

For a split-second, Nick didn't react and David thought he was going to be pushed away, but then Nick's arms came up and he melted into the kiss. David moved from Nick's lips down to his throat while his hands slid up under Nick's shirt.

"David..." Nick's fingers slid through his hair. "David, I just wanted toooooohhh," he gasped as David zeroed in on his nipples. "Umm...I thought...I wanted us to disc--"

Dammit. So much for Nick not being a talker. He should have known it was too good to be true. So it was back up to devour those lips again and muffle anything else Nick had to say.

Thankfully, Nick got the hint the second time and didn't speak when David pulled his shirt up and off. Trailing his fingers along the warm skin as he went, David moved behind Nick and nipped lightly at the nape of his neck before applying his tongue. He trailed his tongue down Nick's spine and smirked inwardly when he felt the Texan shudder.

Putting his hands on the slim hips, David steered Nick toward the bedroom with every intention of keeping him far too busy to worry about anything as trivial as speech.

Nick enjoyed waking up in David Hodges' bed. He didn't even mind waking up in David's bed alone--not much, anyway. He was getting a little tired of waking up to David's empty house, though.

It was completely unreasonable of him. Nick knew that. David had the right to think he only wanted meaningless sex--hell, he'd thought so. It also made him look like an idiot to stay at David's for hours afterward when David always left as soon as possible--Nick knew that, too. David was giving him the most blatant of hints--get up and get out. Nick was willing to that, but it was difficult since he was usually deeply asleep. If David wanted him out, then David was going to have to wake him up, especially considering it was the chemist's fault he slept like the dead.

Sitting up and throwing back the covers, Nick stretched again and scrubbed at his hair. This was the confusing part. Why clean and then cover him up if Nick was supposed to leave? Why let him fall asleep at all? For that matter, why even take it into the bedroom? The living room, on the table, even against the damn door--Nick had been with men in all those situations and afterward the only thing to do was leave. But get up from a soft, warm bed when you're sated and wonderfully exhausted? That was a bit much to ask of anyone.

On the other hand, David always managed to leave.

With a sigh, Nick got up to use the bathroom, but decided against a shower or coffee. David hadn't left a note after the first time, but when Nick got up, when were always clean towels waiting on the counter and coffee brewing in the kitchen. He glanced the clock on the night stand as he was getting dressed. Half-past one. No, it would probably be best for him to go home and get ready. As of three o'clock, he was on-call--it was graveyard's month for out-of-town scenes and his week as Lead CSI. It was his first time as Lead since returning to work, and he wanted to be sure to be prepared if a call came in.

As he drove home, Nick told himself firmly that if he wanted to repay David for the pleasure and--and what? Security? Was that was it was? Nick wasn't certain, but it felt as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Ever since his abduction, Nick began wondering if his very nature had somehow made him a target for everything that had happened to him. That, combined with the rethinking of life-decisions that came with any near-death experience--so his shrink had said--put him in at cross purposes. Even as he decided to stop hiding his preference for men and begin dating, he also decided that to avoid another Nigel Crane or Walter Gordon, he was going to have to stop being so open. That wasn't him--it had never been him. He made himself get out there, though, just to show everyone that he was okay. That he was recovering nicely and certainly didn't have any problem with--

Warrick's marriage.

--anything anyone else had to do to deal with the trauma, because it wasn't just his trauma. Nick knew it had affected everyone else in the lab as well, even though it was never mentioned--not to him, anyway. It wasn't in him to deliberately keep from connecting with the people he met, or to tell himself he didn't care if his coldness might cause some hurt feelings, but he did it anyway. After the first month, he deliberately avoided hooking up with anyone who might start to care. It was much simpler that way. He might not have been happy with what he was doing, might have hated himself for doing it, but most of his friends seemed satisfied with his behavior, so that had to be good enough.

Letting out another sigh, Nick walked into his empty house.

Now he'd found someone he could be himself with, someone he could trust, who was able to keep his mind off--

His best friend.

--anyone else when they were together, and who didn't seem the least bit interested in anything serious. Shouldn't he be feeling grateful instead of vaguely dissatisfied? He should, and if he wanted to demostrate his gratitude he really out to abide by David's wishes. It was something Nick had to keep reminding himself, because it was becoming more and more difficult to do. You ingrate.

Yes, it was supposed to be just sex, since that's what it had been about when David first asked him out. But that had been more than a month ago. If they were still seeing each other, shouldn't things have progressed beyond discussing work and then jumping into the sack? He'd always had fun talking to David at work and imagined the same would apply to conversations that weren't centered around the job. He had questions he wanted to ask David--about how extensive his horror movie collection was; how he'd got the strangely-shaped scar on his shoulder; where the hell he'd learned to do what he did in bed. Actually, Nick could live without knowing the answers to those questions, and if he had to, he could live without much conversation between them--he didn't mind the quiet when he was with David. What he was having trouble with the way David rejected any touch that wasn't sexual. Couldn't it just be about reassurance and affection sometimes?

Why did he care so much, anyway?

Before when he thought about David, what came to mind was a guy who was bitingly funny when in a good mood and bitingly sarcastic in a bad one. Who complained about the trace you'd dropped off but got it back to you in plenty of time and with exacting results.

And now?

Showered, shaved and in fresh clothes, Nick continued to ponder as he went into the kitchen to make himself some lunch. Other than the fact that the man was very talented, Nick didn't know anything more about David than he had before. So why had his feelings changed? Just the great sex? Really? Didn't that make him woefully shallow? It wasn't the same way he felt about--

When his cell warbled at him, Nick was actually grateful. "Stokes."

"Nick? It's Conrad."

Ecklie. This couldn't be good.

"I understand you're the Lead CSI on call this week?"

"That's right."

"Well, I just got off the phone with the Sheriff, and he had a request from the Lincoln County Commissioner."

Where the hell was this going? "Okay..."

"It seems they've got a scene out there--very suspicious circs, they think it might be a multiple--and they're requesting assistance from Clark Country."

"Oh," Nick was intrigued. "And the Sheriff gave his okay?"

"Of course. You up to taking a look at it?"

"Sure," Nick agreed at once. "Where exactly is it?"

"Pioche."

"Whoa. That's nearly four hours."

"I know that," Ecklie said flatly. "I told them it would be evening before you got out there. You'll need to stop by the lab to pick up the faxes, anyway. So far you're cleared for the expense of a hotel for at least one night. We'll have to discuss it if you need more."

"Okay," Nick was wrapping up his sandwich one-handed, eager to be on his way. Then his enthusiasm wavered, "Did--did you talk to Grissom about it?"

"He's the graveyard supervisor," Ecklie pointed out. "Who do you think I called first? He's the one who told me to send you out."

"Oh." Wow. "Okay, I'm on my way."

"Good."

Nick flipped his phone shut and quickly cleared his cupboard. He wondered if Grissom had any idea how much it meant to him to be sent out on this call. Even as Lead CSI, with a case like this, Grissom could have easily bypassed him to send Catherine or go himself and no one would have batted an eye. Grabbing his spare kit from his hall closet--his usual kit was in the Denali already--Nick decided the best way to show his appreciation was to be sure he was an absolute pro on this case.

"He's on his way back. He stayed the extra day because he wanted to interview the little girl himself."

"But Sara's already back," Archie sounded confused. "I didn't think she'd want to leave him alone. After what happened in interrogation--"

"Well," Greg shrugged. He didn't seem to consider as big a deal as Sara had. "That was before they'd found the bodies--and Cassie. He was just so sure Cassie was still alive and time was running out."

"He's not going to get into trouble or anything, is he? I mean, he was right."

"I don't think so. I hope not. Sara was just worried because--y'know."

David refrained from rolling his eyes by looking back down at the newspaper he was holding. He was careful to show only the regular interest anyone would in an unusual case. Nearly everyone in the lab had already heard of Nick's outburst, so neither of the younger men seemed to find it odd for David to be paying attention to their conversation.

"Do you know if he's coming here when he gets back? I wanted to double check what exactly he wants done with the surveillance tape."

Greg shook his head. "He's probably going home to crash. I hope so, anyway. Catherine switched off with him for the rest of the week so he won't be on call."

David drained the last of his coffee--Greg's coffee, technically--and strolled back to his lab. Likely he wouldn't be hooking up with Nick for a day or two, then, and that was certainly for the best. If Nick was as affected by this case as it sounded, then David was the last person he needed to be around. David just didn't do comforting or cheering up.

With a determined effort, David focused his attention on his work. He was only approved for another hour of overtime and he wanted to get his desk cleared before leaving for the day. He was so successful that when Nick spoke his name a half-hour later, David jumped and nearly broke his nose on the microscope.

"You're back," David said. It wasn't his wittiest remark, but it was better than the first thing that crossed his mind--good God, you look terrible.

"Yeah," Nick's voice was raspy. He cleared his throat several times. "Are you here much longer?"

Oh, no. Don't ask, Nick. It's a bad, bad idea. "I've got about another half an hour."

Nick nodded and glanced toward the door briefly before looking at David again. "Would you--do you want to come on over after?"

Say no. Say no. Make up some sort of excuse. "Sure. If you want."

"I'd like that," Nick's smiled trembled a little.

"I'll be by when I'm done," David said, struggling to keep his expression bland.

"Okay," Nick looked and sounded so grateful that it brought an unexpected lump to David's throat.

He watched Nick leave, then rubbed his forehead. Dumb move. Such a dumb move. Possibly the dumbest move ever. Yet how could he have done anything else? How could he say no when Nick was pale with exhaustion? When Nick's eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed? When Nick was clutching a piece of crayon-colored construction paper like it was a lifeline? It would take a much harder heart than David Hodges possessed.

That didn't mean this wasn't a Really Bad Idea.

When David arrived at Nick's he still had no idea what he was supposed to say. Maybe when he actually saw the Texan he'd think of something eloquent and helpful. Then Nick opened the door, looking no better than he had in the lab, and David waited briefly to see if inspiration struck.

Nothing.

"Hi," Nick stood aside to let him in.

Maybe something like good job, David mused as he walked in. No, that's too--that's just stupid. Something along the lines of brilliant work, finding that little girl. No. Start with something like sounds like it was a rough case, how are you holding up? Yeah. That's actually--

Before David could complete the thought, let alone voice it, Nick's lips were on his and Nick's hands were gripping his shoulders tightly.

Oh. Oh. David automatically tangled his hand in the soft hair and took control of the kiss, tremendously relieved. If this was the way Nick wanted to deal with a rough case, then at least it was something David could definitely help him with. On the other hand, Nick was clutching at him so desperately that David knew he was going to have to throw his formulas out the window.

But just this once.

Sliding his hands under the thick hooded sweatshirt Nick was wearing, David was surprised to find not one, but two more shirts underneath. He tore his mouth from Nick's long enough to ask--"What's with all the layers?"

"Cold," Nick murmured into his neck. "Ever since I jumped out of the boat." He pressed himself close to David as if trying to absorb body heat. "No matter what I do. Just cold..."

David swallowed hard, but managed to sound like his usual self when he spoke. "Okay," he pulled Nick's sweatshirt and one t-shirt up and off together. "We'll get these clothes off you and get you warmed up." He could feel Nick's breath against his neck, and Nick's fingers--unusually clumsy--fumbling at the buttons of his shirt. Letting go only long enough to discard his shirt, David pulled Nick against him again as they stumbled toward the bedroom.

Nick's remaining t-shirt was pushed up and David immediately bent to apply lips and tongue to the sleek torso. "David..." Nick breathed, gripping a handful of the chemist's hair. "David, please..."

"Easy," David murmured, puffing a breath on the moist skin and making Nick shudder. "Calm down, Nick. You know I'll take care of you." Easily, he dropped to his knees and made short work of Nick's belt and zipper. He slid the jeans and shorts down slowly, taking Nick's erection in his mouth only briefly before continuing downward. "Step out," he prompted, and Nick did, holding on to David's shoulders for balance as David removed his socks as well.

David ran his hands up the backs of the muscular calves to trace light teasing patterns behind Nick's knees. When he began placing kisses on the inside of Nick's thigh, Nick's legs gave way and he sat down hard on the bed. Smiling, David continued to move his lips closer to his goal.

"No...no..." Nick moaned, sounding so distressed David stopped immediately.

"What is it?"

"Don't do this," Nick pleaded, pulling David up the length of his body to kiss him again. He fumbled for the night stand with one hand. "I don't want...I can't wait. Just this once, David, don't...don't..."

Under Nick's urgent hands, David forgot any notion of formulas and stepped back only long enough to quickly shed the rest of his clothes. He took the lube and coated his fingers, meeting Nick's lips again as he worked one hand under Nick's body.

"That's good. That's enough," Nick insisted, even though David had barely gotten his second finger inside.

David frowned. "Nick, usually we do a lot more--"

"No," Nick panted. "I want it like this. Please, David."

David was used to hearing Nick beg. Normally, he loved it, but this--this was different. He knew Nick wanted--needed--something more from him.

He just wasn't sure what it was.

In the meantime, though, he could at least give Nick something else to think about. He tore open the condom wrapper and knelt on the bed before rolling it on. "Are you sure?" he asked again.

Nick's only response was to hook one leg around David's hip.

Taking a deep breath, David positioned him and tried to go as slowly as possible. When Nick let out a tiny hiss, David froze and began to withdraw.

"Don't stop," Nick raised his other leg to lock it around David as well. "It's fine now."

David braced himself over Nick, his arms trembling with the effort. He'd always prided himself on his self-control and this was taking every bit he possessed.

"David..." Nick wrapped his arms around David's neck and lifted himself enough for several more hungry kisses. "Please, I need this...I need you..."

No one had that much willpower.

David set a hard pace right from the start, not even bothering working his way up to it. He knew he had just the right angle because of the moans and gasps his movements were wringing from Nick, who arched his back and bucked his hips as he came, chanting David's name over and over. Although he tried to hold back, David felt himself being carried along.

It was frantic and primal and insane and David couldn't remember ever feeling anything so intense before.

He collapsed on top of Nick, trying to catch his breath.

"Just like that..." Nick's voice was little more than a quivering whisper.

Allowing himself a moment of weakness, David buried his face in Nick's neck before regretfully easing away. Nick let out a small noise of discomfort and David winced in sympathy. Normally, he would be up and out of bed to clean himself off, but now it was all he could do just to roll over, get rid of the condom and grab something to clean up with, then shift enough for Nick to throw the covers over them both.

David kept his eyes focused determinedly on the ceiling, even though he could sense Nick looking at him. He had already crossed too many of the lines he'd never meant to tonight, and he knew he had to distance himself from this situation before things got any worse. So no matter if the urge was there, he was not going to look at Nick. He knew what would happen--he'd pegged Nick as a cuddler long before they'd ever slept together. It was the most important line David had drawn and thus far he had been able to maintain it. It didn't matter that he felt drowsier than usual, more sated than usual, and closer than usual, stepping over that line now would mean Really Big Trouble.

So he lay still, listened to Nick's soft sigh and waited, just as he always did. It took a little longer than usual, but eventually Nick's breathing deepened and evened out. David let out a sigh of his own and mustered what little willpower he had left to make himself sit up. One glance told him that Nick was indeed sound asleep, so David got out of bed, quietly collected his scattered clothes and headed for the bathroom.

He only took the time to pull on his boxers before going to the sink and splashing water on his face. He leaned over the sink, one arm propped on either side, and bent his head to he wouldn't have to look at his reflection. What the hell was that?

Stupid.

Fantastic.

Whatever it was, don't do it again.

He rinsed his face once more and was just drying off when he heard Nick speaking.

Damn. So much for a clean getaway.

He opened the bathroom door and stuck his head out. "What did you say?"

Nick spoke again. David couldn't make out what he was saying, but he sounded upset about something.

Taking a deep breath, David walked back to the bedroom. "I didn't catch that. What did you--"

"I'm here...I'm here...she'll drown--she'll drown if I can't breathe. I can't breathe."

Oh, god. David took another halting step into the room. Nick didn't seem to be moving much, but his words and tone said this was a horrible nightmare. "Nick," he said sharply, hoping that would be enough.

"Stop the boat, let me out...oh, God...let me out!"

"Nick!" David hurried to the bed, and shook him slightly.

"They can't find me..." Nick whispered, sounding hopeless. "If they can't find me how will I find her?"

David took him by the shoulders and gave a harder shake. "Nick, you're dreaming."

Nick jerked awake, his expression one of blind terror, and David instinctively tightened his grip.

"Nick?"

Sitting up, Nick drew in great lungfuls of air. "Oh, God, that's messed up..." he gasped, holding onto David's arms and bowing his head. "Oh, jeez..."

Before he even realized he was doing it, one of David's hands came up to smooth Nick's hair as he tried to remember whether it was better to talk about a nightmare or to try to take someone's mind off it.

"God..." Nick swayed slightly, but then stiffened his back. "I'm sorry, David."

"Nick, do you understand the whole concept of this subconscious thing?" David's tone wasn't as dry as he would have liked, but he was just glad his voice didn't shake. "It means you can't control what you dream. What the hell are you apologizing for?"

Nick let out a sound that--technically--could have been a laugh and dropped his head even lower.

David decided to believe it was a laugh, since he wasn't sure how to deal with the other option. He wasn't even sure how to deal with the current option, and cursed himself for being so lousy at the whole reassurance thing. Nick seemed to be okay now, but he was holding himself rigid, and David suspected it was the only way he could keep from trembling.

For crying out loud, say something! David ordered himself, Say something, dammit! "Nick, was it this recent case or your kidnaping?"

Nick lifted his head slightly, but not enough to actually look at David. "No one ever calls it that."

Oh. Shit. "Sorry. What do they call it?"

"They don't," Nick sighed. He took several more long breaths. "It was both. It was my kidnaping and Cassie. If I wasn't found, then she wouldn't be found because I had the bubblegum she should have been using for a trail, and it was in my ears so I couldn't--" Several shudders wracked his body before he caught himself again, "It was just...all twisted together..."

"Do...you have these often?"

"Not for a while. Not since--" Nick stopped and looked up at him.

David was relieved that although Nick's eyes were damp, there was no sign of any actual tears. "Since what?"

"Since we started...this."

David, who always made sure he had something to say, was at a complete loss. All he could come up with was--"Too tired to dream?" That, and try to sound as smug as possible.

He obviously succeeded, because Nick let out a soft laugh. "Something like that."

"Well, let this be a lesson to you. Next time don't be so pushy--I know what I'm doing."

Did he really just say that?

Nick's eyebrows shot toward his hairline, then a smile ghosted across his face as he shook his head and let out another soft laugh.

The worst seemed to be over and a shiver of relief went though David.

Wait. That wasn't relief, he was just cold.

"I was just getting dressed when I heard you," he said as he worked to loosen Nick's grip.

Nick frowned briefly, then his eyes widened and he released David. "Oh. Sorry, I--sorry." He tried to smile, but it wavered dangerously. "Thanks. I--I'm glad you were still here."

Impulsive decisions are never the right ones. Impulsive decisions are never the right ones.

"Usually when I wake up from one of these..." Nick's voice shook for a moment before he caught himself. "Well, thank you."

Oh, hell. "You're welcome. Now shove over. I'm freezing."

Nick blinked, then quickly shifted to make room.

David climbed back under the covers and settled himself against the pillows. Nick stared at him uncertainly, and it only took the slightest tug for him to nestle close. Before he had time to think about it, David wrapped both arms tightly around him.

With a sigh that bordered precariously on a sob, Nick pressed his cheek against David's shoulder. As he did, David was swept by a wave of tenderness stronger than anything he'd felt in well over a decade.

That's when he knew he was in Really Big Trouble.

David was awake.

Mostly.

All but one arm. The one currently trapped under Nick's body--that arm was still asleep.

He raised his head enough to get a glimpse of the clock. It was only a little past five, which meant there was plenty of time before the graveyard shift began. That didn't concern David nearly as much as the fact that he probably wasn't going to get out of there before Nick woke up.

Especially since Nick seemed to be awakening at that very moment.

When Nick shifted slightly and then stretched, David slid his arm free, grimacing at the unfreezing needles that assaulted him.

"Hey," came a drowsy voice.

Fuck. "Hey."

A kiss landed on David's bare shoulder. "I really appreciate you staying."

It really was ridiculous to be stuck in the middle of an awkward "morning after" when they'd been seeing each other for over a month.

"Do you want some coffee?"

Apparently, David was the only one who noticed the awkwardness.

"Don't bother," he said as he sat up. "I have to get going."

"Right. This must have really messed up your schedule."

If Nick meant that to be at all snide, he completely missed the mark. David doubted he did, though, and somehow that made it even worse. "Don't worry about it," he muttered. "Really." He got up and quickly left the bedroom, despite the temptation to turn around and see Nick sitting among the tangled sheets. David used the bathroom and got dressed quickly, but Nick was up and waiting for him when he emerged.

"I was just wondering if you want to meet up for dinner before shift."

"Can't. Sorry."

Nick didn't seem surprised. "How about breakfast after?"

"We stopped bothering with that after the second time." That seemed like an excellent parting shot, so David headed for the door.

"David--"

"What?" David spun around, snapping a bit more than he meant to.

Nick opened his mouth, but promptly shut it again, shrugging helplessly.

Okay, you dodged that bullet. Now get the hell out. Unfortunately, his mouth had other plans. "There's a little place about a block from where I live--Sirk's. I go there almost every day after work unless I grab breakfast with the other techs. So if you don't see me leaving with the labrats..."

"Okay, I--" Nick nodded, breaking into a smile, "Okay."

David left before he did anything else phenomenally stupid.

Of course, Nick showed up at Sirk's after shift. David knew he would, which is what he took the lone corner booth.

"Hi," Nick's smile was cautious as he sat down. "You weren't kidding when you said 'little.'"

With two small booths, three tables and counter with four stools, twenty-five people was capacity at Sirk's. "I think it's just a hobby for the owners," David nodded toward the woman approaching their booth, coffee pot in hand. A woman who would have definitely been zoftig in her younger days but was slowly working her way toward blowzy. David could have cared less, Esmé told it like it was and made the best hash browns he'd ever tasted.

"Morning, you," she said as she filled his cup. "How was work?"

"I work in a crime lab," David retorted. "Take a wild guess."

"Must be an off day," she observed. "You've used that one before." She turned to Nick, and picked up his cup. "Good morning," she smiled at him.

"Mornin'," Nick returned the smile.

Esmé's smile widened as she handed Nick a menu. "I'll be back in a few, boys."

"Yeah, you've got a real rush this morning," David said dryly. There were five other customers, which was about average for the hour.

"Smarting off does not get you faster service," Esmé informed him before sashaying--Esmé pretty much sashayed everywhere--back to the kitchen.

Nick was observing the exchange with interest, then his eyes widened as he took a sip of his coffee. "Hey. This is your coffee."

"No," David held up his own cup. "This is my coffee."

"You know what I mean."

"Esmé gets it from some gourmet place in San Francisco. She lets me buy it at cost."

"Nice lady. What kind of name is Sirk's, though?"

David blinked. This was not the conversation he expected to be having. "Name?"

"Sirk's, it's just an odd name. I thought maybe it would be a Morrocan or Indian restaurant."

"Bad signage," David couldn't help smiling, because Nick had actually hit on an amusing point.

"What?"

"Apparently it was supposed to be Sir K's after Esmé's late husband. She got a relative to make the sign and he screwed it up, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings, so..."

"So...Sirk's," Nick was grinning now.

David caught himself before he grinned back--barely. He decided he'd better use this opportunity to get answers to some of his questions, because he was determined that after this breakfast, things would return to their former state or end.

Really.

"I have a question," he finally announced and Nick nodded encouragingly. "How bad did these nightmares get before you had me as--among other things--your own personal tranquilizer?"

Nick's smile disappeared, but before he could say anything, Esmé returned. "Know what you want, boys? If you're really--" she caught the look David shot her. "No chatting today. Gotcha. The usual for you, then?" When David nodded, she turned to Nick, "What about you, honey?"

David rolled his eyes.

"I'll have the Western Skillet, thanks."

"You got it," Esmé took back the sheet that was her breakfast menu and off she went.

Nick took another sip of coffee, wrapping both hands around the mug. David couldn't help wondering if he was still feeling cold. "David," Nick began again. "I'm not--you aren't...that is, I don't want you to think--"

"Is that the reason you were never with anyone more than once? Nightmares?" If that was the case, David knew it would change everything.

It was obvious from Nick's expression that he wasn't thrilled with this particular topic, and he hesitated before answering. "No," he finally said, somewhat unwillingly. David quickly squelched that tiny ray of hope. "Not really. Sometimes it was, but--y'know, it's not like I have nightmares every night. Or that I slept with someone different every night, either."

"But often enough," David returned, but didn't clarify whether he was referring to the men or the dreams.

Nick sighed. "It depended on the guy. Most found it a good reason to call it a night--well, day. Some were okay, some got scared. One guy kicked me out of bed--literally. Some guys--" he stopped abruptly.

David saw him shudder. "What?"

"Some guys were really...turned on by it," Nick finished quietly.

Bile rose in the back of his throat. "What kind of sick fucks were you hooking up with?" he hissed. "What the hell--"

Nick shook his head.

"Why in God's name did you accept when I asked? What did you think I was going to do to you?"

"Nothing. I knew it wouldn't be like that," Nick said firmly. "And even though I usually looked for--" he met David's eyes briefly. "I don't know why I accepted when you asked me."

"Moment of insanity?" David couldn't keep the chill out of his tone.

"I'm starting to think it was a single moment of sanity," Nick said, his eyes on his coffee cup.

Alarm bells began sounding in the back of David's mind, which only annoyed him further. Oh, sure. Now you warn me. Where the hell were you yesterday when I first started losing my damn mind?

"David, things have...changed between us, haven't they?"

David focused his gaze out the window, not knowing what he'd say if he looked into those earnest brown eyes. "I don't see why they would."

"But--" Nick stopped and sighed. "We always got along well at work. Don't you think we would be good together outside of work? I mean, beside always just--"

"There's really no point," David cut him off.

"What--"

Esmé appeared at that moment with their breakfast. She obviously picked up on the tension at the table, because she was all business as she served them. "Enjoy your meal," she said and gave David a look that threatened to get the whole story out of him at some point, then left them alone.

David didn't doubt she would.

"So there can't be anything else between us?" Nick asked.

"No." For the first time, Esmé's breakfast wasn't making his mouth water.

"Why not?"

"Because it's one thing to be a stand-in for someone else during sex, but I'll be damned if I start doing it out of bed, too," David finally voiced the fear that had been hovering at the back of his mind since that first dinner.

Nick blinked in confusion. "Wh-what? Stand-in? For who?"

"For the guy you're really in love with, Nick," David snapped, knowing this really shouldn't be making him so angry. Nick couldn't help how he felt.

"I'm...not in love with anyone," Nick said slowly.

"Oh, really? So your feelings toward Warrick are just friendly?"

The color abruptly drained from Nick's face. "You--what? Warrick?"

"Well, you weren't sleeping around before he got married," David observed casually. He pushed his food around on the plate as though he actually had an appetite.

"That doesn't mean--" Nick swallowed hard, "I...after what happened, when I was recovering--he was so good to me...I couldn't help it..."

"Nick." This conversation did not hurt. It didn't. "It was before that."

"How--?" Nick looked miserable, although that certainly wasn't the reason that David's heart felt as though someone was squeezing the hell out of it. "I didn't think anyone...that is, I tried not to be obvious--" He winced, making David's chest tighten even further. "No one ever brought it up. I didn't think anyone--do many people know?"

"None of your fellow CSIs seem to have noticed, if that's what you mean. Probably too close to you both to see it," David was amazed that he was able to maintain his usual bored tone, although he had the feeling it wouldn't be for much longer.

Nick fiddled with his food, then set his fork aside.

His temper was starting to get away from him, and David tried unsuccessfully to rein it in. "So although I have no idea why you think I make a decent stand-in for Warrick Brown and on some days I can even find it flattering--if I really squint--I'm not--"

"That's not--that isn't true," Nick interrupted.

David reminded himself they were in a public place and managed to keep his voice low. "Do you expect me to believe that you don't close your eyes and picture Warrick?"

The way Nick shrank back against his seat let David know he'd made a direct hit, even though Nick was shaking his head in denial. "Maybe I--maybe I did before, but--"

"But not with me? With everyone but me?" Did Nick think he still believed in Santa Claus, too?

"Yes," Nick's voice was quiet but steady.

"Oh, come on. What the hell do you take me for?"

A tiny spark of anger lit the dark eyes. "Y'know, David, maybe we're too close for you to notice a few things."

"We're not close, Nick," David surprised even himself with the iciness of his voice. "We're just sleeping together."

Hurt flashed across Nick's features and David decided he'd had enough. His throat was too tight to say anything else, anyway. He got up from the booth and stalked to the door, ignoring the startled looks from the other customers, most of whom he knew by sight. As he left, he only gave Esmé a curt nod in response to her--"On your tab?"

David kept up his swift pace until he'd reached his own door and let himself in, suddenly too tired to even bother slamming it. His anger had evaporated quickly, leaving him feeling weary and stupid and small. He'd barely gotten his jacket off when the doorbell sounded. Tempting though it was to ignore it, David knew there was no point. Nick wouldn't give up--he wouldn't be Nick if he did. Taking a deep breath, David opened the door.

Nick stood on the other side, holding two foil-wrapped packages. A small frisson of amusement penetrated David's tangled emotions. Esmé wasn't about to let him miss his breakfast, especially not when it meant a few extra minutes in the company of a good-looking man. He could just imagine her bombarding Nick with questions and playfully flirtatious remarks, and Nick's resulting blush. It had delayed Nick long enough for David to get home, and for that David was grateful. The only thing that could have made this situation any worse would have been for Nick to have caught up with him on the sidewalk.

That didn't mean this wasn't going to make David's Top Ten Worst Moments Ever.

"Can I come in?"

Still not trusting his voice, David shook his head.

"Okay. I just--" Nick shifted, and met David's eyes briefly. "I thought you should know that you were right about some things. I did--do--have feelings for Warrick, even though I know nothing will ever...well, anyway...and yeah, it's true that usually I thought about him when--"

"That's all I needed to know. Thanks," David started to shut the door.

"Wait, please."

David wondered if there would ever come a time when he didn't respond to that note in Nick's voice. To cover the effect it had on him, he fixed Nick with his coldest stare.

"David..." Nick met his gaze without blinking. "I don't know why I do half the things I do anymore, but I know--I know that one of the reasons I went out with you a second time, one of the reasons I like being with you...David, with you--it's the only time I can be sure I'm not going to think about Warrick."

Oh.

It was far from perfect, but perfect would have only made David suspicious.

He stepped back from the door, making room for Nick to pass. "Lucky for you I haven't had my breakfast yet," he said and was rewarded with a tentative smile.

"You and Hodges?" Sara remarked casually.

"Uh...yeah," Nick glanced at her, but she was busy sorting through their victim's paperwork, making several piles. He went back to highlighting suspect calls on the phone bills. "Where did you hear?"

"Greg mentioned it. Here's another phone bill--different company."

"Thanks," Nick added it to his "unchecked" pile--he would sort them by company when he was finished checking the numbers.

"I think Greg heard it from Archie."

Nick nodded--he doubted David had told all the other techs, that just didn't seem like him. True, Bobby had been giving him speculative looks even before the non-breakfast as Sirk's, but for David to tell everyone? More likely the techs found out using whatever arcane means by which they always seemed to know lab gossip before anyone else.

He and David had gone out several times in the last few weeks, and anyone could have seen them. They hadn't tried to keep it a secret. Their jobs were separate enough that a relationship wouldn't be considered a conflict of interest. And Nick didn't mind people knowing, really, beyond the usual discomfort he felt at his personal life being the subject of gossip. He hadn't cared much when his one-night stands were commonly discussed, but he didn't want whatever was between he and David to become fodder for the rumor mill.

"I'm glad you stopped...whatever the hell you were doing before," Sara commented. She could have been discussing the weather.

Nick couldn't help grinning, "Me, too."

Sara was the only one of his teammates to ask Nick outright. Greg just gave him teasing or knowing looks whenever he mentioned getting results from Hodges, to which Nick would merely shake his head and continue working. Catherine barely blinked and easily tossed "you and David" into their usual conversations as though it was perfectly normal. If Grissom knew at all, and Nick suspected he probably did, he gave no sign of it. Warrick, other than an odd look or two, didn't seem to have much of an opinion. That could have been because they hadn't spent any time together outside of work since Nick forced himself to suggest that belated bachelor party. It was something of a relief, because Nick wasn't entirely sure how he'd react to Warrick's reaction. Nick kept telling himself that even without the complications of his feelings, their friendship would have changed after Warrick's marriage--most friendships did.

That didn't make it any easier.

What did make it easier was spending more time in David's company, because what Nick had told David about not thinking of Warrick when they were together still held true. Even when he wasn't doing things to Nick's body that turned his mind to mush, David was perfectly capable of keeping Nick on his toes.

By the end of the first week, during which they'd spent the majority of their off hours together, Nick had realized that if he was going to learn anything about David Hodges, he was going to have to pay attention. To what David said, because although David could spout, ramble or even brag endlessly, most of it was snark and he rarely revealed what he was actually thinking or feeling. Even more, to what David did, because though they often seemed to be completely at odds with what he said, David's actions were what revealed the man. Nick knew this was true of most people, that what they did was more indicative of character than what they said, but David seemed to take it to a new and strange level.

That discovery was a relief to Nick because it meant that he hadn't been imposing on David when he would stay. The care, the towels, the coffee had all meant Nick had been welcome to remain at David's. All of these considerations--except the coffee--continued, the only difference being that now David was almost always there as well. Rarely in the bed--Nick still slept more deeply--but in the house somewhere. Most often, David would be in the kitchen and he would greet Nick with, "I suppose you want some coffee," and Nick would give him a quick kiss before accepting a cup. The first few times he did this, David looked at him as though he was crazy, but now it was something of a habit. If they were at Nick's, then it was--"Remind me to get you some decent coffee," as he accepted a cup and Nick's kiss.

Accepted, because unless it was going to lead to sex, David rarely initiated physical contact. He didn't seem to mind it, always reciprocated it, and after the first few weeks, he began to offer it when he knew Nick would enjoy it--along with some sarcastic comment, of course. What David didn't do was give the slightest indication that he particularly wanted or needed it.

Nick didn't let that stop him, though, partly on the off-chance that David did need and want it, but mostly because Nick simply couldn't spend so much time with some he cared about and not show his affection through touch.

That's just what Nick was doing one early afternoon some three months after their first date. They'd passed the morning with simple, enjoyable sex--something Nick thought David needed to become more accustomed to. It wasn't that Nick didn't enjoy it when David took over and did things that brought him to the brink of sanity, but he also liked being coherent enough to make sure David enjoyed himself and having enough energy after to do something besides snore.

They were in Nick's bed, Nick curled in close while David idly toyed with his hair. Nick nuzzled David's shoulder, and his eye fell on the barbell-shaped scar. "How did you get that?"

"What?" David sounded drowsy--Nick liked that. He liked that David was able to relax in his bed, because much of the time David still seemed to be on his guard.

"This scar."

"Oh." David yawned before continuing, "Would you believe I was bitten on a safari when I was twenty?"

What?! Nick was just about to bombard David with dozens of questions when he realized exactly what David had said. He propped himself up on one elbow. "No."

David's eyebrows rose. "No?"

"No, I wouldn't believe you were bitten on a safari when you were twenty."

David grinned at him. Not his usual smirk or that smug, superior smile, but an honest-to-God grin that lit the grey eyes and made him look years younger.

Nick couldn't help but grin back. "David..."

"Sounds better than saying I got if from a bad cast."

"A bad cast?" That sounded pretty strange in itself.

"I was...nine?" David frowned in remembrance. "No, eight, because my parents were together. My dad took me to the lake to do some fishing--I was just getting the hang of casting. One time I went to cast and my hook got caught."

"Ow."

One corner of David's mouth kicked up. "That's not the best part. The best part is that I registered that my hook had got caught somewhere, but not exactly where, so I tried to yank it free. That's when I realized where it was caught."

Nick winced in sympathy.

"Then I freaked--which I thought was what you were supposed to do in that situation--and my dad couldn't get near me before I pulled the thing right through. Six stitches, three hours of my mom giving my dad hell for it and a week off from gym class."

"Poor baby," Nick clucked, kissing the scar.

David gave him an arch look.

With another quick kiss, Nick settled back against him and felt David's fingers in his hair again almost immediately. He mulled over the fact that David's parents were obviously divorced, but only briefly. Mostly Nick wondered what exactly it was going to take to see that real smile on David's face again.

He'd been right, of course.

If there was the option of physical contact, then that was the option Nick inevitably chose. Nick was uncomfortable with PDAs, though, for which David was grateful, but there were plenty of private displays of affection. Why just sit and watch television when you could do so with your head on someone's shoulder or in their lap? And if you happen to be close enough to touch someone, then why not kiss them, too?

David usually shrugged and went along--there were certainly more difficult things to adjust to than cuddling with Nick Stokes.

"Dreaming about anyone in particular?"

David was able to catch himself before he jerked his head away from the microscope, and looked up as though Greg hadn't caught him off guard.

"Anyone I might know?" Greg grinned, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"What are you doing here?" David asked as though he hadn't heard Greg's query "I won't have your results for another few hours."

The teasing look changed to one of indignation. "A few hours? I dropped that off with you as soon as shift started."

"Oh, you mean this isn't Be An Unprofessional Day? Considering your questions--"

Greg rolled his eyes. "I was just showing concern for a colleague. How much can you do in your sleep?"

The question immediately brought David back to the previous day. He had awakened and was spooned up behind Nick, who was still sleeping after their morning's activities. Not willing to get up just yet, David pressed his face into the crook of Nick's neck, inhaling deeply.

Nick murmured something indistinct and pressed back against him. With a smile, David ran a hand down Nick's flank, prompting a purring sound from the Texan. Then Nick shifted his hips so his ass was nestled firmly against David's crotch, taking David from half to fully erect.

"Nick?" he whispered, wondering if the man was awake and teasing.

"S'good, yeah?" Nick mumbled, stretching languidly.

David grinned against Nick's shoulder, then slid his hand to grasp Nick's cock. It only took a couple of strokes before Nick was erect as well. "You awake now?"

"Mmm..."

Lifting his head, David peeked over at Nick's face. The Texan was smiling, but definitely still asleep. With a sigh, David released Nick's erect member and rested his hand on a firm butt cheek instead. He always wondered about proceeding in this situation, even though it was so, so tempting.

"Why y'stoppin'? Dav'd..?"

Hell with it. David wasn't sure how awake Nick was, but he seemed to enjoy what was happening and who was doing it, so David reached over him to get a condom. He wrapped his other arm around Nick from underneath and began caressing his chest.

With brief flash of gratitude to St. Perry's for learning the knack of opening and putting on a condom one-handed, David moved his hand down Nick's thigh to the back of his knee. He tickled the area slightly and got a little moan out of Nick as he coaxed that leg forward.

"How're you doing, Nick?" David bit gently on Nick's earlobe.

"M'good..."

David checked and found Nick was still loosened from earlier, so it took almost no effort to slide in completely.

Nick let out a long, breathless groan.

Oh, God... David closed his eyes and fumbled forward to take Nick in hand again, pumping in a slow, languorous rhythm and matching his own thrusts. He felt as though he would be perfectly happy to stay on the brink and maintain this pace forever. Almost too soon, he felt warmth on his hand as Nick came with a satisfied moan, and then his own release was upon him. Not the hard, heated momentum he was used to, but deep, sultry pulses of coma-inducing pleasure. David buried his face in Nick's hair, trying to hold on to those sensations.

"David?" Nick was slightly more coherent.

"Hmm?" was all David could manage.

"Whazzit called?"

What? "What?"

"S'name for it, yeah? Doin' it asleep?"

"What the hell?"

"How'm I gonna ask ya t'do it again sometime?"

Another grin got away from David and he thought it was probably a good thing Nick had his eyes shut, what with all the dopey smiling he'd been doing. "I think you just did," he said, and kissed the nape of Nick's neck.

"Cool."

The best thing about memories? They could be relived in mere seconds if need be. Especially if, say, there was a rookie CSI who still needed chasing out of one's lab. David prepared to send another scathing remark in Greg's direction, but he forgot about it when he looked at the younger man. Greg's eyes were wide and a blush stained his cheeks.

David only had a moment to wonder what sort of expression the memory had put on his face before Greg cleared his throat. "I'll uh, I'll be back for my result later," he said, then beat a hasty retreat.

Bending back over the scope, David allowed himself a smirk. Who knew scaring off Greg Sanders would be one of the extra benefits to this whole cuddling thing?

David unlocked his car door, but when he tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. For a split-second he wondered just how tired he was, but then he saw the hand braced against the window. Annoyed, David leaned against the door and folded his arms. He'd just finished a double and then some and was so exhausted he'd almost considered calling Nick to say he wouldn't be by. But Nick had worked three doubles and a triple with only four-hour breaks in between, so David figured if Nick still had the energy for them to get together, he could muster up more from somewhere, too. The last thing he needed was to have a discussion--and he knew exactly what it would be about--with Warrick Brown.

"I want to talk to you."

David yawned, hoping to get the point across that he really didn't need this right now.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I was getting into my car."

Warrick frowned, "You know what I mean."

There was no way this conversation was going to go well, David knew, so he remained silent.

"Look, this isn't even about you, okay? It's just that Nick isn't ready for anything serious."

Smirking was a bad idea. David knew it by the way Warrick's expression darkened, but he couldn't help himself.

"This isn't the best thing for him right now."

Translation: You aren't the best thing for him. "Really," David tried to sound bored, but was unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

Warrick ignored it. "With everything Nick's gone through, he needs to be out there enjoying himself. Living life to the fullest, y'know?"

The man had left an opening wide enough to drive a tractor through, so David went for it. "Are you sure this isn't about you living vicariously through Nick now that you've managed to shackle yourself?" Then he watched as Warrick made a concerted effort to keep his temper.

"It's not that I think you're a bad guy," Warrick said, although his tone was dubious. "I just don't want Nick getting into something he's not ready for." He kept pausing as though expecting David to jump in. David refused to give him the satisfaction. "I know he doesn't show it, but he's still shaky sometimes. I just don't want him getting hurt."

There was nothing Warrick could have said that would have pissed David off more. "What the hell makes you think he wasn't getting hurt before he started seeing me?"

Warrick froze. "What?"

David took a deep breath, trying to control his anger. "Have you said everything you wanted to say?"

"What do you mean hurt?" Warrick demanded. "Who? You mean some of those other guys he was with?"

"Here's an idea--why don't you ask Nick?"

Warrick looked away, "We haven't really hung out together lately."

David wasn't sure if he was implying anything, but just in case--"Don't try to pin that on me."

"I wasn't," Warrick looked troubled. "We just haven't talked much since...well."

Although he knew Warrick was honestly trying to protect Nick, it didn't make David feel any less hostile. He was tempted to just blurt out that Nick had been harboring feelings for more than a year, but that would have been an appalling betrayal of Nick's trust. Besides, it would be just his luck that upon hearing it, Warrick would suddenly, miraculously realize he felt the same way.

David didn't want to dwell on that possibility too long. "Are you done?"

"Hurt how?"

"I don't know, okay?" David sighed. "It's just a couple of things he's let slip."

"Is that where you're going now? To meet Nick?"

"Yes. Not that it's any of your business."

Warrick nodded his agreement. "Won't keep you any longer, then," he said quietly.

He watched Warrick walk to his SUV with his hands shoved deeply into his jacket pockets. With adrenaline still coursing through him despite the non-confrontation, David wasn't sure whether he wanted to go to Nick's, bend the Texan over a chair and make absolutely certain who Nick was thinking about or just drop his seat back and sleep for a solid ten hours. It occurred to him that he could probably do both, so he started the engine and sped toward West Charleston.

It left David inexplicably pleased that Nick opened the door before he'd even finished knocking--it was as though Nick was eager to see him. Standing aside, Nick let him in, then gave him a tight hug and a soft kiss. Keeping his plan in mind, David deepened the kiss and began roaming beneath Nick's shirt before Nick had the door shut.

Nick went along for several moments, but when David intensified things a bit more, he pulled back slightly. "Easy, David...just...whoa."

David stopped, but didn't release Nick.

"I--I'm kinda tired...I don't really--it's been a rough week."

That was a massive understatement. It had been an absolutely horrendous week. The kind of week that, thankfully, rarely happened more than once a year. The kind of week that made David want to write off the human race completely. The kind of week that left cops and CSIs despairing of ever making a dent in the evil that surrounded them. The cases even got to the techs, despite the glass walls that usually kept them slightly removed, and the week had been absolute hell for the CSIs.

Normally, cases involving children were handed out so that no CSI was weighed down with too many. That had been impossible during this week. Nick had drawn two particularly ghastly cases that had even shaken the hell out of stone-faced Vartann. Obviously, just the volume of horror made this different from the MacBride case, when someone had actually been saved.

So really, Nick's--"I'm not exactly in the mood..." shouldn't have come as a big surprise.

David let go and stepped back, but that only made Nick look more troubled. "Next time just call and say you want to crash."

"I..." Nick frowned. "I can't sleep yet...I'm still too--I know you must be wiped, too, so I thought we could just...unwind. Relax and then get some sleep."

"I thought you CSIs got together after shift for that," David wondered why he was arguing with something that sounded like a brilliant idea. "Help each other shake off the worst of it."

"Yeah," Nick agreed. "I did the other day--you had your double to work, and Greg had a case that really--well, Sara and I went home with him. But now you're off, and I'd rather..." He winced, "I guess I wasn't thinking..." Nick's voice trailed off, and he looked a bit dazed, making David wonder whether he was seeing the slaughtered five-year-old boy or the shattered body of the infant girl in his mind's eye.

David could have cheerfully kicked his own ass for letting his own fears and paranoia get the better of him. "What kind of beer you got?"

"Shiner Bock," Nick smiled slightly.

"That'll do."

Neither man suggested food, and after a couple of sips, David decided he didn't particularly want the beer, either. They were on the sofa, Nick leaning back against his chest while David kept one arm around him. Then Nick handed David his beer as well, and David set it on the end table next to his own, noting that it had barely been touched. Nick settled himself more comfortably and put his own hand over the one David was resting on his chest. The television was off and neither of them were inclined to speak. Instead, they were both content to let the sound of their combined breathing lull away the week's horrors.

David had no idea how long they remained there, but at some point Nick murmured, "We're unwound enough to sleep, yeah?" Then they both stumbled to the bedroom and fell asleep in a tangle of leaden arms and legs.

It wasn't until days later that David realized he'd barely thought about his conversation with Warrick. As a man used to dwelling on the discouraging things in life, he wasn't sure what to make of that.

On to Part 2