Chapter One - What About The Party?

Greg walked through the empty halls of the Las Vegas Crime Lab en route to the morgue. He was decked out in his newest pair of tight fitting jeans and his hip leather jacket. Everyone else from the graveyard shift was already at the party celebrating Doc Robbins' birthday. Greg wanted to make his entrance fashionably late. Even Grissom was there to celebrate, rather than sitting in his office playing with his insect collection.

As he turned the corner past Grissom's office he could begin to hear the revelry and music emanating from the morgue. A small movement in his peripheral vision drew his attention in another direction. Further down the hall in the ballistics lab he saw Nick putting on a set of head phones, still dressed in a standard issue soft blue lab coat. As he approach he admired Nick's broad shoulders and wished he could see how they traced down to the waist underneath the lab coat. He waited just inside the door as Nick called out his intentions.

'Firing one shot,' Nick yelled.

The sudden boom that followed was louder than most bangs Greg had heard in the lab by quite a few fold. Startled he stumbled back a few steps and tripped over a box by the door and fell to the floor just in time for Nick to see as he turned around.

'Not very graceful for someone so dressed up,' Nick joked, removing the ear protection.

'Ha ha, I fell over laughing,' Greg replied.

Nick walked over and offered a hand to help Greg back up. Greg noticed the sizable gun in Nick's other hand.

'Wow, that's quite a piece.'

'.45 Magnum. One of the most powerful handguns on the market,' Nick explained. 'Legal ones anyway.'

'Why aren't you at Doc Robbins' party?' Greg inquired.

'Celebrating a man turning a year older in the place he'll end up once he dies? Not really the kind of thing I'm inclined to attend. A little too ironic for my taste.'

'I think that's the point, isn't it?'

'Probably, but still not my cup of tea.'

Greg eyed the large gun once again as Nick set it down and reached into the large water tank with tongs to retrieve the bullet he had fired.

'Mind if I give that thing a whirl?' Greg asked.

'Only if you think you're up for it little man.' Nick reveled in making fun of the junior CSI, smirking as Greg glared back at him. 'Sure, take of that nice jacket of yours and you can give her a spin.'

As Greg turned around removing his jacket to hang it by the door Nick couldn't help but admire Greg's slender physique through the tight black T-shirt revealed by the now-removed jacket. He only took his eyes away from the tightly hugged ass of Greg's jeans in time for him not to notice Nick staring. He committed the shape of Greg's young body to memory for use in his imagination when he got home later that night.

'Okay, I'm going to load two shots for you,' Nick explained. 'You'll need to make sure to brace yourself for this baby and only do one shot at a time. She's got a real kick.'

'I'm sure it's not as bad as Sara kicking my ass at evaluation time.'

'You can judge for yourself after firing this thing.' Nick handed the gun to Greg and stepped to the side of the catch tank to watch Greg's technique.

Greg put his feet at shoulder width, putting his right shoulder forward, left back and bracing his firing hand underneath with his left hand. Nick knew what was coming and was looking forward to it.

As with protocol, Greg called out his shot, 'firing one round.'

BOOM! The force of the magnum's recoil forced Greg to throw his hands up stumbling backward against the glass wall of the ballistics lab, nearly loosing hold of the gun, but managed to stay on his feet this time. Nick was doubled over laughing at the spectacle of Greg's flailing arms.

'That was classic! I haven't seen anything that funny in months,' Nick laughed as he watched Greg regain his balance.

'I think you've had enough laughs at my expense tonight. Why don't you help me get it right this time?'

'Fair enough.' Nick motioned Greg over toward him. 'Now try standing with your right leg back a foot or so. Keep your weight on your forward foot and allow your back leg to absorb the recoil. For your arms, keep them slightly bent rather than rigid and straight. Wrap your left hand around your right, not under it.'

Nick looked over the younger man's stance checking for accuracy and subtly admiring the shape of Greg's body tightly wrapped in his T-shirt and slim fitting jeans. He could feel a slight rise in his own dark chinos and decided standing where Greg might see would not be a great idea.

'You've almost got it right. Here, let me help you.' Nick moved behind Greg, removing his lab coat, much to Greg's private desire. The lines of Nick's V-shaped torso were now clearly visible under the fitted, white button-down shirt. Standing behind him, close enough so that his cheek brushed against Greg's back, Nick reached around and gently grasped Greg's upper arms. 'Relax your arms just a bit.' Nick reached a little further along Greg's arms to push his elbows down a little. 'Don't lock your elbows.' In doing this he lightly touched his growing member against Greg's ass. He pulled back in a little jerk trying not to alarm Greg and hoping he didn't notice.

Greg's heart beat was already quickening with Nick's body so close to his own. The quick touch against his ass only hastened his pulse further. He wasn't sure if what he felt was really the thing he desired in Nick's pants or just another part of Nick's clothing. He was nervous but managed to keep from shaking noticeably. Relaxing his arms was certainly an impossibility.

Almost a whisper, he could feel Nick's breath on his ear as the words passed by. 'Now gently squeeze the trigger.' He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Greg squeezed...

 

C.B. Michels

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