tagCelebrities & Fan FictionCSI: Vegas Perchance to Dream

CSI: Vegas Perchance to Dream


Pelaam© July 2009

This was a request by Cassie


Jason looked over the rim of his cocktail glass to study his companion. Nick was doing a good job at pretending to look relaxed, but as a long-time friend, Jason could see the tale-tale signs: the finger tapping a tattoo to a beat only Nick could hear, lips pursed just a little too tightly and tiny lines around his eyes. Jason took a sip of his Cosmo and set the glass down.

"Are you sure you want to stay, Nick?" he asked, his fingers briefly touching those of the older man. "It's been an hour and this isn't really your scene."

"Just a while longer," Nick muttered. "I heard him say he was coming here tonight."

Nick studied the gyrating forms on the dance floor. A flash of blond and he was sure he had his man.

"Have you seen him?" Jason queried, seeing the sudden attentiveness of the older man.

"Not sure," Nick growled. His eyes scanned the dancers once more. "Yes, there. Something's wrong," he added, surging to his feet.

Jason followed swiftly, keeping Nick close as the older man spotted his quarry.

"Greg." Nick growled at the sight of his friend almost draped over an older man whose eyes darkened at the intrusion. Nick did not like the almost vacant look in Greg's eyes.

"Nicky," Greg slurred, transferring his arms to wrap around Nick's neck.

"Is this him?" Jason asked, staring at the sight of his friend with the younger ma n swaying dangerously in his arms.

"I didn't know you liked men, Nicky. I wish I'd known. Wish you liked me."

Jason looked at Nick to gauge the older man's reaction, but it was plain that Nick had not even heard the words, his eyes darting into the crowd.

"I think he's been given a spiked drink," Jason said, knowing it was probably unnecessary to say, but hoping it would spur Nick to make a move. "Let's get him some medical attention."

Greg's reply was an unintelligible growl and Jason sighed as he followed in the angry man's wake.


"He'll be fine. You can take him home," the nurse said with a smile. She closed the curtain across the cubicle Greg was still in.

"So he's okay?" Nick asked with concern. He could scarcely believe Greg had been so stupid and anger still simmered beneath his worry.

"Yes. Usually Rohypnol works its way through the system in about eight hours. Don't leave him alone and if you can't stay make sure you trust whoever he's left with. It lowers resistance when it comes to sex and amnesia usually accompanies it. I would advise you to report this tomorrow. He's not the first to be drugged and have come from the nightclub you named. He's lucky he had you there."

Nick nodded tersely and thought of the angry man that had vanished so quickly.

"Is there anything I need to do?"

"No, he'll probably just sleep it off. Let him have water, if he wants. Remember that it has an effect on memory and may lower his inhibitions."

Nick forced a smile as the nurse left them.

"Can we go home now?" Jason asked, appearing from the waiting area.

"You go. Sorry I've kept you out so late," Nick said. "They've told me to keep an eye on Greg. I'm not leaving him."

"Ok, suit yourself. I'll be in touch tomorrow," Jason said, turning and giving a casual wave.

Nick watched the other man vanish, sighed and turned his attention to the cubicle.


Something was wrong but Greg was not sure what. He instinctively moved closer to where he was certain there was another person. He was cold and shivered. He was disorientated, unsure where he was. He was clad only in boxers and in a bed. The bed's covers raised and cold air made him shiver more. A moaned protest escaped his lips before a warm body moved to enfold him. He felt a bare chest press against his back and strong arms wrap around him. The warmth and scent were comforting and familiar. He let himself drift into nothingness.

Greg was having a wonderful dream. Nick was with him, Nick was holding him. He had dreamt about the older man many times, but this dream was more realistic. It was as if he could actually feel Nick. Enjoying the sensation of the much-desired masculine body, Greg arched his back and pressed his bottom against his dream bed-mate. He heard Nick growl low in his chest and arms tighten around him. Greg leant his head back against a shoulder and rubbed against Nick's chin. Moaning softly, he tried to turn and kissed at the chin he had rubbed. He gave a sigh of pleasure.

"Love me, Nicky," he begged. "Love you so much."

He tried to pull Dream Nick a little closer to him. He tried to nuzzle and whined his disappointment as he was wrapped more tightly, keeping him pressed to Nick's chest. Nick simply whispered into his ear, luring him back to other dreams.

Nick was in paradise and purgatory at the same time and he was also furious. He held the object of his desires in his arms, but all Greg wanted was the bastard who had drugged him. 'Nicky'. The older man could not understand why Greg had been given the Rohypnol, there seemed little need for it. Despite which there was also nothing he could do about his growing arousal at being pressed against the hot body he held. He hoped that Greg would stay asleep and not try and pursue things. He gave a tired sigh as Greg finally slipped into a deep sleep. Carefully Nick slipped out of the bed and pulled his shirt back on. With a last, longing glance at the sleeping man in the bed, Nick turned on his heel and strode from the room.


Greg groaned as he woke, he had experienced some strange dreams and had somehow curled into a tight ball to sleep. His waking body protested the necessary stretches and he lay on his back trying to piece together fragmented memory. He gave a shocked gasp as Nick slammed into the room.

"N...Nick," he stammered. "What...?" He had only dreamt of Nick in his bed. It could not have been real...could it? Before he could gather his scattered thoughts, Nick was already speaking angrily.

"I understand you're a grown man, Greg, but for God's sake be careful who you want to bed. Your precious 'Nicky' drugged you last night. Rohypnol. I was assured you'd be okay by the hospital so my Good Samaritan deed is done. I can't believe you'd be so irresponsible about your choice of bed-partner. See you at work."

Greg sat, the angry words flowing over him like a tsunami leaving him limp and drained in their wake. Too late he whispered the reply after Nick had gone.

"But his name was Simon."


It had been the worst three days of Greg's life. His friendship with Nick seemed in tatters. The older man seemed to be going out of his way to avoid him. He shoulders slumped even further. He remembered Nick at the club and his elation Nick might be into men. However, he remembered little else and, although Nick had called Simon by the wrong name, it did not change the fact Greg had been drugged by him.

"Things with you and Nick seem a little strained," a sympathetic voice said. "Want to talk?" Catherine asked.

Greg sighed, shaking his head. Then suddenly it all tumbled out; the club, the spiked drink, Nick taking care of him, Nick's anger. He sighed again.

"I don't know why he thought Simon's name was 'Nicky'. But apart from that, he's kept his distance. It's as if he can't stand to be near me anymore," Greg said sadly.

"Look, a call's just come through for another CSI where Nick's working. Get over there and at the end of the job take him aside and talk to him. It's not easy, but if he won't talk to you and it's hurting you so much, you have to take the initiative."

"Yeah, I guess so," Greg nodded. "Okay, sure, I'll go." He took the slip of paper with the address and headed out, unaware of the concerned eyes that followed his progress.


Greg stared at the house in which Nick was working. It seemed a straight-forward enough double-suicide. He scuffed his foot along the ground. It made sense to speak to Nick. After all, things were bad enough, they could hardly be worse. He glanced towards the overgrown expanse of backyard. No one was bothering to check too far down. Greg decided a few minutes walking around the yard would be a good idea. He waved casually to a cop in uniform he recognised and took himself down through to the overgrown plants and grass.

As Greg moved forwards through the waist-high grass, he tried to rehearse what he could say to Nick to get their friendship back. He staggered forward as the ground dropped unexpectedly. As he tried to maintain his balance he heard an ominous creak and before he could cry out he was plummeting downwards. His belated shout was smothered by the well shaft he was in. Although he landed in a mix of water and mud that cushioned most of his landing, his head and shoulder struck solid brick. There was intense pain, shards of light and then darkness.


Nick huffed impatiently. It had been over three quarters of an hour since he requested assistance. He knew Greg was in and was angry the younger man had not arrived. He snatched his cellphone and dialled angrily.

"I thought you were sending help," he barked without preamble.

"I sent Greg not long after you called," came Catherine's disembodied voice.

"Yeah? Well he hasn't shown."

"I suggest you check he hasn't started working elsewhere," the clipped voice was angry and its Arctic chill seemed to permeate the air around Nick to the extent he actually shivered. "I am going to share a couple of confidences with you, Nick and give you some information and you are going to listen, think and then go speak to Greg."

"If you must," Nick growled.

"Firstly, Greg may not be a saint, but he's no slut either. The only two occasions he's given himself fully to a lover, he thought they cared as deeply for him as he did for them. However, as you can see he's still alone. He has not had a relationship for quite a few months, mainly because there was someone else he wanted. Although he thought he could never have them, he didn't feel it fair to date someone when his heart pulled him in another direction."

"Why are you telling me this?" Nick's voice was pained. He did not need to hear that Greg still wanted this 'Nicky'.

"Because the man who drugged him was not a date or a boyfriend, just a friend of a friend he hooked up with to dance. Because that man's name was Simon. Because the loss of your friendship is breaking his heart and, finally, because 'Nicky' is his affectionate name for you. No one else. Go find him and talk to him, Nick for both your sakes."

Nick was already heading out of the house before he had fully disconnected the call. 'Love me, Nicky. Love you so much.' The words had been for him. Greg loved him and he had pushed the younger man away without giving a chance to explain. He hoped Greg would be willing to accept an apology.

"Hey, did another CSI arrive?" He shouted to the assorted uniformed cops still milling around outside. From amongst a chorus of 'no' he heard one 'yes'. He scurried to the source of the single affirmative.

"Greg came," Nick was told. "He wanted a quick walk around before going in there. Thought he'd have got back by now."

Followed by the uniformed officer, Nick hurried into the backyard, shouting Greg's name. His worry escalating as he received no response, he shouted again. Then he heard a shout from the officer searching with him.

"Over here, there's some kind of well."

Mentally chanting a denial, Nick hurried to join the officer, who was on his hands and knees, torch flashing, peering down the well-shaft.

"He's down there alright. I'll get some help.'

"Wait," Nick demanded. He grabbed the torch and checked for himself where the younger man lay. Handing back the torch, he then knelt down and positioned himself to drop into the well.

"Are you crazy?" the officer asked incredulously.

"Give me your hands," Nick growled. If I lower myself as far as I can, it's just a couple of feet to the bottom. I can stay with him till help arrives."

The look told Nick he was regarded as an idiot, but the officer was complying and, as the other man vanished to bring help, Nick was able to turn his attention to Greg. He tapped the younger man's face, not liking how cold Greg felt. He had been down the shaft for some time. He tried for a reassuring smile as glazed orbs opened and tried to focus on him.

"It's going to be okay, Greg," Nick said.

"Nice to know dream Nicky still likes me," Greg murmured, his voice slightly slurred.

"Not a dream, babe," Nick husked. "I'm real." He brought one of Greg's chilled hands to his lips and kissed them. He smiled as Greg's eyes widened.

"Real?" the word was whispered in wonder as Greg tried to come to full consciousness.

"Very real," Nick confirmed, a small smile on his lips. "I'm sorry, babe. This is all my fault and when you're out of here I promise I'll find a way to make it up to you."

"Babe?" Greg echoed, his lips curving slightly. "I like that." He gave a pained moan as he tried to move and felt comforted as Nick immediately crouched beside him.

"Don't move, we don't know what damage you've done." Nick's hand petted at Greg's face, concerned at the chill of the younger man and the still-glazed eyes.

"Think my shoulder got dislocated. Can't tell if it re-set itself," Greg murmured drowsily. "Sore. Head aches."

Nick looked critically at the younger man. There was a superficial cut over his eye, probably from falling debris, but the effect suggested another injury Nick could not see. He surmised that Greg had hit his head during the fall. The sounds of voices distracted him and Nick glanced up at the arriving cavalry. All he wanted was to get Greg safe and sound and make good on his promise. Reluctantly he relinquished his place at Greg's side in the well's shaft, acknowledging the EMT's greater need to be there.

Agitatedly, Nick paced and peered as Greg was slowly brought out of the shaft. With a growl he ensured he was able to accompany Greg in the ambulance, keeping a tight hold of the unconscious blond's hand all the way. Once there he grudgingly allowed the younger man to be taken away from him to be treated. His anxiety was only appeased when finally able to sit and wait for beautiful blue eyes to open.


Nick's vigil was finally rewarded as eyelids began to flutter and slowly, too slowly for Nick, blue eyes opened to gaze at the unfamiliar environment.

"Hey, babe," he whispered, manoeuvring himself into Greg's line of vision. "Missed you."

"Missed you," Greg croaked. He smiled as a cup of water with a straw was immediately retrieved. He took a couple of sips and sighed. "Better," he murmured. "What's the damage?"

"Trauma to your shoulder that dislocated, it did reset but will need time to recover. You have a few stitches to the back of your head and a couple of butterfly stitches on your forehead."

"Ouch," Greg muttered. Already he was beginning to be aware of the pain meds reaching the end of their effect, although it may have been psychological by hearing of his hurts. However, his mind instantly forgot all about pain as warm, soft lips covered his. He opened his mouth, encouraging an agile tongue to plunder and ravish. As Nick slowly pulled away, the sight of the older man licking his lips as if searching for the last of Greg's taste had his libido immediately interested.

"Better?" the brunette asked.

"Much," Greg grinned.

Any further exchange was delayed as a nurse came breezing in to check on her charge. Her interruption was closely followed by Greg's doctor and both men were relieved to find Greg would be able to leave hospital quickly if he had someone to care for him.

"He can stay with me," Nick offered. "You need a keeper," he winked at Greg, grinning at the blush.

"In that case, if he has no adverse reactions today he can go home tomorrow," the doctor smiled as he left them alone.

Nick immediately recaptured Greg's too-tempting lips.

"I need to go home, babe. I'll get things ready and be back as soon as I can."

"'K," Greg yawned. "Think I'll just rest a while."

Nick paused at the doorway, smiling at his new lover, who was already asleep again. He grinned. He could scarcely wait to have Greg in his house.

And in his bed.


It had been over a week since Greg's fall and he was still living in Nick's home, both men happy with the arrangement. They were currently sitting on the settee, absently watching but not watching a baseball game. Greg was cuddled tight against Nick's side. Nick looked at the younger man questioningly, and finding the answer he wanted in those expressive, cerulean orbs, he pulled Greg impossibly closer to him.

Their lips met furiously, hungrily as they slid over each other. Mouths opened, tongues teased, teeth clashed. They were driven apart only when they could no longer deny their bodies' demand for air. Greg climbed onto Nick's lap as he sought the older man's mouth, needing the feel of their lips pressing close, sharing panting breaths, the feel of skin on skin as he burrowed his hand under Nick's shirt.

Nick leant back into the couch, allowing Greg to take control. He was willing to do whatever the younger man wanted, to go as far as Greg wanted, to share everything; his body, his heart, his future with the beautiful blond.

Greg's hands roamed Nick's chest as he attacked the older man's mouth. His tongue slid into Nick's mouth as he began to unbutton his shirt. As he finished with the shirt, Nick slipped Greg's t-shirt over his head. Greg lowered himself against Nick and groaned as their bare chests met.

Nick ran his hands from Greg's shoulders down to the waistline of his sweat pants. He gripped the cheeks of Greg's bottom and pulled him tightly to his body. He was gratified to hear Greg whimper as he felt the solid bulge of Nick's arousal. They instinctively began to grind against one another.

Greg made a small, satisfied noise when Nick grabbed hold of him and crushed him in strong arms. Warm lips covered his and a hot, fluid pulse flooded Greg's lower belly then suffused his entire body. He was like a living flame encased in a shell of flesh and the older man's touches were making him burn ever hotter, ever brighter. Nick's hands on his body felt like brands marking and claiming him for eternity.

In his turn, Nick revelled in warm, smooth flesh that responded eagerly to his touches. He thrust his tongue into Greg's wiling mouth, plundering and possessing in equal measure, as a prelude of what was to come. The younger man returned his ardour with matching need, slim fingers caressing every part of the older man's muscular body that they could reach. He was therefore surprised when Greg suddenly pulled away from him and stood up.

"Are you all right, babe?"

His answer was a smile and a slight tug on his hand as the younger man pulled him up off of the couch and towards the bedroom. He looked into the impossibly lust-darkened eyes.

"Are you sure Greg?"

This was their night, the night they would consummate their new relationship, their love. They had kissed, touched, talked. Nick had been certain of his feelings for the blond, but Greg had wanted to wait, to recover a little, to make sure Nick was not just feeling euphoria following the accident. Nick had never been more certain of anything else in his entire life. It seemed as if he was made to be with this beautiful, young man.

By answer Greg pulled him through the bedroom door and began to unbuckle Nick's belt. Before he could finish, his shaking hands were covered by his lover's. He moaned softly as he was pulled into a tight embrace by the older man. He wanted this so much. He hooked a lithe leg around Nick's waist, relishing the groan it engendered from deep in the older man's chest.

With a deep breath, Nick pulled away from his lover and ran his hands down Greg's sides. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of the sweat pants and pulled them slowly down long, lean legs. Kneeling, he removed Greg's socks and the pants. Looking up at his lover, he placed reverential kisses on Greg's lower stomach, either side of the modest treasure trail.

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