In Sickness and in Health
Fandom: CSI:Crime Scene Investigation
Category: Romance, Humor
Summary: Greg is in need of medicine.
Warning: Slash, M/M
Disclaimer: I don´t own them but I love them dearly.
Feedback: Yes, please. It´s the icing on my cake.
Released: April 2005
Word Count: 2.439
"Please, Gil. I need your help."
"I don´t think that´s in my job description, Catherine."
"He needs your help. He´s all alone."
Gil snorted, irritated. "That´s not my problem."
"I wouldn´t ask you but I promised him I would come by. He´s got quite a fever. Unfortunately Lindsay got sick too. I can´t leave her alone right now."
Gil sighed. "But why me? Nick is certainly..."
...out of town," she informed him. "So, who else is there to ask? Sara? Can you imagine?"
What about Warrick or Brass? Anyone but me.
"Come on Gil."
"Alright," he growled, angry with himself.
"Thanks. I owe you one. Do you know his home address?"
"Yes, I do. Bye." He ended the conversation abruptly, feeling confused. Greg Sanders is sick and home alone. Having no one to take care of him. Why? A young good-looking guy like him.... Gil fetched his car-keys and headed out to Greg´s apartment. Why did I agree so easily to take care of him? Why am I looking for trouble?
Fifteen minutes later, he knocked at Greg´s apartment door and listened intently. Maybe I´m lucky. Maybe he isn´t home because he is at the doctor´s office. The sound of shuffling steps told him he had hoped in vain.
"I´m coming." Greg´s voice was weak and raspy. The door opened. "Thanks for coming by, Catherine...," Greg started, coughing.
"I never knew I had this close a resemblance to Catherine," Gil joked dryly.
Greg stood frozen in shock. His hair was a typical mess; his outfit comprised just blue shorts and a white shirt. Certainly, Greg had just crawled right out of bed.
"Can I come in?" Gil´s anger was replaced by sudden amusement. At least I´m not the only one who is irritated.
"Ah...yes...of course," Greg stammered, coughing a lot.
Gil walked in anyway and was surprised by what he found. Predictably, the living-room was cramped, but mostly with bookshelves. At closer inspection, Gil saw also loads of music and movie discs. At one side of the room stood the TV in front of a sofa and a table. On the other side, the space was saved for the PC. No dirty laundry or uncleaned plates degraded the impression of a tidy and well-organized home. Actually, Gil was reminded of his own place. The home of a bookworm, the home of a typical nerd.
Greg had closed the door. "What are you doing here?"
"Catherine was unable to come because Lindsay got sick, too, and asked me to look after you."
"I can take care of myself. You can leave." Greg´s face was red; his big, brown eyes were dull.
Gil strolled around, while he read some of the book titles. "Of course you can take care of yourself." He took a book off one shelf and read the title. Am I Blue?: Coming Out from the Silence. Gil smiled to himself. Well, that´s interesting. He put the book back and pulled a straight face before he turned back to Greg. "Frankly, you look and sound bad, quite in need of some proper care."
Greg shuddered. "Thanks, but I´m fine."
Gil laid a hand on Greg´s forehead. "Don´t lie to me, Sanders. You´re not fine. Not at all."
Greg winced by his touch. "I´m no baby."
"You´re hot and feverish. I´d better put you back to bed." He seized Greg´s arm.
"I can walk alone." Greg tore his arm free and staggered to a door on the right.
Gil repressed a smile. He had never seen Greg this aggressive. "I´ll make you some tea."
"I don´t need tea," Greg replied angrily. "I don´t need anything."
"Everybody needs someb...thing sometimes," Gil lectured mildly.
"Look who´s talking," Greg backfired at once, coughing heavily.
Gil was surprised by Greg´s offense. Greg had never talked to him that way. Well, we have never met outside of work. This is something I always wanted to figure out. Greg Sanders in private. Perhaps it was a good idea to come here after all. "No discussion. You need to drink lots of fluids. Where is the kitchen?"
"Fine. Suit yourself." Greg pointed at a door to the left, and headed for the bedroom, sulking.
Who would have thought I would have a good time by coming here, Gil mused, astonished, and entered the kitchen. The same view as in the living-room awaited him. Small and cramped, but tidy and comfy. He reached for the kettle and filled it with water. While it was heating up, he searched the cupboards for tea. He found fresh tealeaves in a neat box with a molecule pattern. That´s so Greg. I think nobody at the lab would believe Greg is such a sorted guy. But why not? In his profession he has to be very precise. Gil filled the teapot with leaves and while he waited for the water to boil he looked for a cup. He found one with the imprint "Favorite Lab Boy". Cheered up, he poured the water into the teapot and placed it with the cup on a tray, with which he strode over to the bedroom. "Tea is ready," he announced and stopped in his tracks.
Greg had fallen asleep. Uncovered, his body was sprawled over the entire bed. His mouth hung slightly open and he breathed almost soundless. Just like a little kid.
But he´s none, Gil countered, while he scanned Greg´s exposed body. Not by any means. One particular part of Greg was clearly pointing out he was all grown-up. Gil´s mouth became dry. One explicit part.
Greg shifted and put a hand on his groin.
"Brilliant." Gil flushed. Quickly, he hurried back to the kitchen and put the tray on the board. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself. Go home. Greg doesn´t need you. Determined, he crossed the living-room and stopped. I didn´t cover him up. Greg is feverish and needs all the warmth he can get. Sighing, he went back to the bedroom. The inviting look of Greg Sanders, sprawled over the mattress, greeted him mockingly. Does he have to look that handsome even when he is sick? In a rush, he approached the bed to cover Greg up. He never succeeded. Greg´s movement caused him to freeze.
Greg was touching himself.
Gil´s eyes locked onto Greg´s hand which was rubbing his groin. The sight made Gil´s mouth water and another part of him moistened with longing too. Gil swallowed hard.
Innocent, Greg gave a soft moan and rubbed himself keenly.
Reason left Gil and he took care of his own cock, stroking it slowly through his pants. Oh God. What am I doing?
Pleasing himself, Greg sighed frequently.
Gil opened his pants and freed his hardened member. He couldn´t restrain himself, the sight of his pretty lab boy jerking himself off made him want to come - right here and right now. I´m mad, he considered, but only shortly. Watching Greg´s joy made him simply stop thinking reasonably. His cock took over control. What a stupid cliché. Is this what I call smart? Is this the behavior of a scientist? It was useless. His passion and need were stronger. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.
Greg mumbled something. His erection thrust against the fabric of his shorts while his hand did a busy job, squeezing.
Extremely excited, Gil stroked himself desperately. Who´s sweetening his dreams? Who can it be? A groan slipped through his lips and he startled.
But Greg didn´t wake up. Neither did he slow down in jerking himself off.
A fever overtook Gil, a fever he hadn´t felt in a long time, a pure and simple sensation, which spread from his groin to every cell in his body, making his flesh cry out for satisfaction. He fell to his knees and quickened the stroking. His cock pulsed and burnt and he groaned again. This time, he didn´t stop. Well, frankly, he couldn´t stop. His heavy breathing joined Greg´s excited sounds of desire. Gil bit his lips but it didn´t work anymore. Another loud groan left his mouth.
Open-mouthed, Greg poured out his pleasure, reaching the peak. "Oh...ah...yes...," he sighed, uncontrolled.
Beyond control himself, Gil joined in, whimpering urgently. "Yes...come on...come for me...now...now...."
Greg bucked his hips and squeezed harder. "Oh...oh yes...oh Grissom...Grissom...."
Oh my God. Hearing his own name made Gil jerk off in a split second. Shuddering with convulsions, he came to a perfect and mind-blowing release, with his juices spilling over his hand. "Fuck, oh fuck." He dropped against the bedside, catching his breath. The aftermath of his fierce orgasm was incredible. He just lay still, crumbled, waiting for his strength to return. It took a while before he was able to heave himself up.
Greg had turned onto his right side. He was still sleeping. Just like a little kid.
But he´s none. A mild and peculiar smile appeared on Gil´s lips. I´m obviously not the only one satisfied. He kept staring at Greg, while he licked the seed off his hand. Greg Sanders, lab boy, CSI wanna-be, dreams about me. Well, that´s something I have to get used to. His smile turned into a grin, a grin he didn´t show often and certainly not to anybody. Excited by the latest revelation that one "Favorite Lab Boy" had a crush on him, he staggered to the bathroom. First, he had to clean up. Next, he would...well, who knew. Only one thing was for certain. He wouldn´t go home. The big grin on his face didn´t vanish. It definitely was a good idea to come here after all. Finished in the bathroom, he went back to the kitchen and drank the chilled tea. Even cold it tasted good, just like Greg´s coffee. I wonder if Greg tastes exactly as good. He chuckled softly, went over to Greg and checked the blankets to keep him warm. The coughing miraculously ebbed away. Some dream, huh? Gil strolled to the living-room, where he fetched the book, whose title he had read before. Am I Blue?: Coming Out from the Silence. He had already heard about it but never read it. Making himself comfortable on the sofa, he started to read, waiting for Greg to wake up. That will be fun.
The phone rang annoyingly loud. Gil startled. He had fallen asleep. It was already dark outside. He stumbled up and reached for the phone. "Yes?"
"You´re still there," Catherine stated, surprised.
"Well, Greg had quite a fever. I didn´t want him to be alone. I think he´s better now." With the phone, Gil walked to the bedroom.
Greg´s eyes were open.
"He´s awake," Gil told Catherine. He gave the phone to Greg. "It´s Catherine."
"Hi, Catherine," Greg mumbled sleepily. "Yes, I´m fine. I think the fever broke." He met Gil´s gaze and looked quickly away. "I feel a bit strange because I had an irritating feverish dream...."
Gil had heard enough. He stole the phone back from Greg. "Cath, it´s me again. Greg really needs to rest. We can talk tomorrow." He broke the connection.
Greg stared at him; his mouth was slightly hanging open.
"Do tell me about your dream."
Greg blushed. "I don´t remember any details." He shoved the blanket aside. "I have to go to the bathroom." He put his feet to the ground and shuddered.
Gil stepped closer. "You´re still weak. Let me help you."
Greg shoved his hand away. "I don´t appreciate company in the bathroom."
Gil sat down on the bed and got rid of his shoes while he watched Greg entering the bathroom. After a while, he heard the toilette was being flushed. Gil leaned back and made himself comfortable. Now, he noticed the water of the sink was running.
A minute later, Greg came out and stopped abruptly, when he saw Gil lying on his bed.
Gil patted the place beside him. "Come here. I won´t bite you."
Greg hesitated and eyed him warily. "What were you doing while I was asleep?"
Jerking off. "Reading."
Greg continued his way and relieved he fell down next to Gil. He closed his eyes.
Gil pulled the blankets over him and leaned closer, his breath was brushing Greg´s face. "Is there something you want? Soup, tea,..."
...me?" Gil finished.
Greg´s head snapped around, his eyes shot open. "What?"
"Do you know that the best way to cure a fever is with another fever?"
Greg gaped at him.
"Tell me about your dream." Gil moved closer.
"Don´t be shy, my boy." Just like that he kissed Greg´s cheek.
Greg flinched back. "Grissom, what is..." The speech ended abruptly when Gil kissed him. Softly, he sealed the trembling lips.
"Grissom..." Greg murmured finally, stunned. "You´ll get infected."
Gil ignored the advice. "Do you want me, Greg?" He lifted the blanket; slipped under it and met with Greg´s body. His lips were caressing the neck and his fingers aimed for the target, finding it ready. "I guess that´s a yes."
Greg trembled against him. "Ah...Oh God...keep doing that...please."
"I will." Lips met lips, fingertips teased skin, and they became an entangled ball of sensations.
"This is a heavy fever we have, isn´t it?" Gil laughed softly.
Greg´s brown eyes became big and round. "Did I...Did I say something in my sleep?"
"Mmmh...you didn´t talk that much. Only a few words, something like, let me think. Oh, now I remember. Oh...Ah...yes...Grissom."
"Oh God!" Greg blushed crimson and turned his face away.
"Naughty, these lab boys nowadays." Gil embraced him tightly and forced him to look at him. "Don´t be embarrassed - Greggo. I joined your pleasure by watching you."
"You were watching me?"
Gil smirked. "Frankly, I jerked off while I was watching you."
"You didn´t," Greg gasped, overwhelmed.
"Naughty, these supervisors nowadays," Gil joked, his blue eyes were beaming.
That did it. Greg didn´t hold back anymore and shoved his body against Gil´s. "I do want you, Grissom," he answered belated.
"My name is Gil."
"Yes, Gil," Greg obeyed, submissively, the master´s grasshopper completely.
Gil smiled delighted and silenced him with a searing kiss. Soon, their fever reached the highest levels and burnt out every existent sickness.
The following evening, Catherine entered the lab and was surprised to see Greg in the locker room, changing into his lab coat. "Already back to work? Are you feeling any better? You look pretty worn out. The fever must have been very strong."
"Quite," Greg assured seriously. "But Grissom helped me a lot."
"Gil Grissom." She laughed. "Still underrated in his abilities. What did he do?"
"He´s a scientist. He gave me the very best medicine." Greg grinned brightly. "Several times."