Title: Nothing Else to Do
Author: LauraKatharine
Pairing: GSR
Rating: NC-17


“Do you ever feel like the only thing we have left to do is have sex?”

Sara didn’t mean to make him choke on his soda, but he did—and Grissom’s jerky, nervous movements as he coughed and wiped his lips with a napkin ended up being rather amusing.

“Sorry,” she said contritely, lowering her smiling eyes to the leftover pieces of pizza that lay between them on his dining room table. “That was a little…bold.” She swore all the color had drained from his face. He stared at her and gave a slight nod, accepting her apology.

It was quiet for too long, and the sexual tension seemed to take over with a vengeance. It had been a while since they’d shared a heated moment like this. Why did she go and say something so stupid?

Naturally, Sara blamed him. After all, it was Grissom who’d turned over a new leaf or…something. He was the one who chose to be there for her, comforting her like a friend through her sordid past and current work struggles. He was the one who started having breakfast with her and Greg after work, and he was the one who seemed mildly delighted on the days when Greg had other plans. Grissom was the one who always initiated the friendly phone conversations and occasional outings and meetings, including this impromptu pizza at his place.

He started all of this. Now, they were friends. Ever-flirting, utterly fuckable friends. An audible sigh escaped her, and when she looked up, she noticed he was still watching her intently. Maybe he was considering her not-so-subtle proposition.

“Have we really done everything else?” he deadpanned, head cocked adorably to the side.

She laughed and leaned back in her chair, shifting her legs and feeling an undeniable twinge of arousal. “Well, let’s see…” Pursing her lips as if in deep thought, she paused a moment. “You’ve been my mentor.”

“And then some,” he replied automatically.

“A very good boss.”

Grissom frowned. “I don’t know about good, but I’ve been a boss.” Sara gave a vague shrug of agreement. She was just being polite. He could be a miserable wretch of a supervisor when he wanted.

Lowering her eyes, she said softly, “You’ve been a friend.” It surprised him to hear her admit it—but it also pleased him very much. “Lord knows I’ve had my share of emotional breakdowns in front of you,” she continued, and he had an inexplicable urge to hug her.

“I tried to be there for you.”

“You were,” she replied, and a sad smile appeared on her face. “You are,” she corrected.

“I’ve taken you to breakfast,” he announced, a playfulness to his voice that made Sara almost giddy.

“And a few lunches,” she reminded.

“I bought you pizza,” he said, motioning to their leftovers.

“Without complaining about my mushroom and black olive demands.”

“Fortunately for you, I’m willing to make concessions in some areas of my life. I’m flexible on pizza toppings.”

She smirked in amusement. It was quiet for a few seconds while they sat there, thinking, swapping furtive glances. It was tense and somehow touching, too. “I’ve put my attraction—no, my uh…feelings for you on the line already,” she said in a low, sultry voice, not daring to meet his eyes.

He waited a beat and then replied remorsefully, “I doubted your motivation, and I think I was wrong.” Sara just stared at him, shocked, but trying not to show it.

“And I still think you’re beautiful,” he added, his own voice going rather gravely. The looks they exchanged could only be described as longing. Was it getting hot in there?

Grissom closed the pizza box and picked up their paper plates, walking them to his kitchen before Sara could respond. She wandered into his living room and stood in front of his couch, gazing out the window. He followed, standing a few feet away, watching her closely.

“I’d be inclined to agree with you, Sara,” he began, looking out the window, too, “That the only thing we have left to do is have sex, if…we were more accustomed to each other…”

“Physically?” she choked out, and a heady rush of both adrenaline and arousal soared through her. They were really discussing this! Grissom merely gave a grunt of agreement and glanced at her.

“It is oddly complex, isn’t it?” she said, wringing her hands. “—This thing we’re doing here.”

“Or not doing,” he said, raising an innocent brow when she smirked back at him. He moved closer to her, and they faced one another. Looking at her shirt, his gaze trailed down her arm to her hand, where his gentle touch made her gasp.

His eyes immediately flew to her face. “See? There’s more for us to do. You nearly jumped out of your skin,” he teased, still holding and caressing her hand.

Sara couldn’t find her voice, knowing this touch was the start of something. “Why—um…” she stumbled, licking her lips and blinking repeatedly.

“Hmm?” He took another step forward, allowing himself to study her face from a brand new, spectacularly close proximity.

“Why is this so intense?” she breathed out, closing her eyes. Then they shot open, and she tipped her head to one side. “And since when do you actually respond when I open my mouth and say something stupid?” she asked, blushing and panicking internally.

Grissom kept staring, and she swore he actually looked a little disappointed. “I secretly suspected you were all talk,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. She was fairly certain he was just kidding, but—

“Maybe I should have called your bluff a long time ago,” he added without rancor or spite. He tried to pull his hand away, but she wouldn’t let him.

Now it was his turn to look panicked. The gleam in her eye showed renewed fervor. Sure enough, she leaned against him and initiated an embrace.

“Listen, just because touching you sets me on fire, doesn’t mean I won’t follow through,” she explained more seriously than necessary, looking straight in his eyes. “You’re the one who made this more.”

Grissom looked confused, but he tightened his arms around her waist nonetheless. Sara raised her face and admitted bravely, “I’m getting emotionally attached to you, and you know it.”

Giving a subtle nod, he replied, “So does that mean I’m no longer emotionally unavailable?”

She gave only a subtle squeeze in response.

He had never been so close to her, and the sight of her wide eyes and shy smile made him want her even more. In this moment, everything seemed totally possible. She still wanted him, and he never stopped wanting her. He’d grown with her, over time, platonically, and it only served to further fuel their attraction. Slowly, Grissom dropped a kiss on her cheek, and Sara shivered automatically, experimentally running her hands up his back in reply. He kissed her again, and then once more, so close to her lips she felt practically mocked.

“God, I want you to kiss me,” she sighed, unsure for a moment if she really said it out loud.

“Okay.” And he did—with velvety warm lips that were parted enough to taste and tease. She was clutching him, responding fully. Perfect kissing. He pulled her flush against him, stroked her hair, slid his lips over hers. Perfect sucking, and then, he stopped—pulling back as if to consider how that went. Sara just looked at him incredulously.

“Okaaay,” he announced, attempting to breathe normally, which proved difficult, with her so close and…wow. He needed to do that again. “So,” he said after clearing his throat, “we kiss and…so forth, and then you might be right. There’ll be nothing left for us to do, but—”

With a firm hand behind his neck, she yanked him forward and crushed her lips to his. There were several twists and turns and a few decent gropes. This was not chaste. This was not sweet. This was lusty, long overdue mouth plundering, and it was absolutely incredible.

“Jesus, Sara you just grabbed my butt,” he gasped in a high-pitched, rarely heard voice.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed into his mouth. “It won’t happen again,” she promised.

“Why not?”

Grissom didn’t allow her an answer, instead returning to her mouth and dropping his own hand to her ass. He gave a soft squeeze and circular rub that made her jaw drop, which he took advantage of, slipping his tongue back into her mouth easily. She purred a little, almost like a laughing rumble, and then somebody bent their knees because they ended up sprawled on his couch.

He casually unbuttoned her shirt while they kissed, and she hadn’t even realized it until the cool air on her open chest made her shiver. His soft facial hair tickled her neck while he left sensual kisses along her skin. Then he pushed her collar back and over one shoulder, admiring the sight of her peach colored bra, and her nipples went hard, wanting his touch so badly. He didn’t touch her, instead opting to kiss over her collarbone, teasing her by kissing along the bra strap, dropping lower and lower. Torture. Her shirt was completely off and seemed to disappear between the couch cushions somewhere. Not fair. She needed to feel his skin.

“Take this off,” she demanded, pulling on his polo shirt.

He did, and within seconds, he was right back, devouring her neck. Sara gave a happy groan at the amazingly warm skin-to-skin contact. Finally, his hand cupped her breast and kneaded lightly through her bra. She was making little sounds of pleasure, pressing occasional kisses on his face.

“I feel like a whore,” she blurted in a whoosh of breath in his ear.

“What?” He immediately stopped what he was doing, giving her a pointed look. “Don’t ever say that. Ever.” He looked almost stern, and she couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m not using you, honey,” he added worriedly.

“I know,” she whispered, stroking his beard, “I just…never move this fast.” Embarrassed, she looked away, and Grissom froze a moment, blinking.

“Oh.”

It didn’t sound like a complaint, he reasoned, more like just general information, so he licked his lips and kissed her, softly at first—to comfort and soothe, but then it all spilled into passion again. Sara wanted him back on her breasts, crooking her neck and lightly pulling his head down to indicate as much.

He licked her skin over and over again, sensually, slowly, making her insides burn for him. “We’re not exactly strangers,” he said, his deep voice rumbling against her chest. He toyed with the lace fabric that covered her breasts while Sara ran her hands everywhere she could reach. “We established that earlier,” he reminded, sliding one of the soft cups over and licking her nipple teasingly. She thrust herself toward his mouth and he laughed, reaching up to slide the strap down her shoulder. With her breast now exposed, he nuzzled it, relishing the sight of it, before finally taking the hard tip into his mouth. His other hand idly worked the clasp on her back.

It fell easily in a matter of seconds, and he tossed it to the side, detouring back to her delicious mouth for a few moments. Her hands could reach his lower back and ass, and the kneading and occasional roaming down his thighs made him so hard. When her hand slid between them, running along his erection, he growled and dove to the breast he hadn’t yet kissed.

Sara had read an article once, for the purposes of science, of course, about reaching orgasm strictly from nipple stimulation. She deemed it a freak, unnatural occurrence, one that she’d likely never experience, but now, watching him suck hungrily on her made her squirm and wriggle uncontrollably. She was close, and it amazed her.

“You’re going to…make me…”

“Hmm?” He hummed against her skin and then got down to work. Holding her nipple between his lips, his tongue circled around and around the tip, and then over the tip, back and forth, pulling and pushing, driving her wild while he mimicked the same sweet torture on her other breast with his fingers. Then he shifted his weight and his other hand reached down, spreading her legs.

“I’m going to—”

He only stroked through her jeans a few times and Sara came hard, screaming, “Oh my God! You’re making me come!”

“That’s the idea,” he teased, allowing her the practically harsh moment of intense pleasure. He watched her recover, kissing her face repeatedly.

“Well, that’s never happened before,” she sighed, mildly embarrassed, yet blissful even so.

“Setting precedents. Always good.”

Sara laughed and sunk further down into the couch, pulling him more on top of her. She squirmed, knowing her underwear and pants were drenched, but not really caring. Her arms wrapped him in a hug so tight he swore he could swallow her whole.

Sara sighed and sucked on his neck, convinced now she was so right. Though it was suggested impulsively without serious thought, there really was nothing left for them to do but have sex. Mind blowing sex, she suspected. Awkwardness was replaced with outright hunger and lust. She needed this. He needed this. And damned if they weren’t going to enjoy getting it.

“Let’s go to your bedroom,” she whispered in his ear, punctuating it with a tantalizing lick behind the lobe.

Grissom paused for only a second before standing and offering her a hand. She blushed and grinned stupidly upon spotting his erection, straining through his pants right in front of her. He seemed to retaliate by picking her up, making her straddle him there as they walked through the house, the friction causing another wave of excitement to pour through her.

He promptly deposited her on his bed, bending to kiss her shoulder before sitting beside her, eying her lower torso a bit like his own private package to be unwrapped. Sara blushed when he undid the button of her jeans, smiling nervously. He lowered the zipper and caressed the lacy, cream-colored fabric of her underwear for just a second. Meeting her eyes, he hovered over her, slowly shaking his head like he was taking in a Monet or Van Gogh. His subtle grunt and sigh of appreciation made her giggle a little.

Leaving her panties where they were, he carefully removed her jeans, and when he looked back at her, he seemed frozen. Only his eyes ran over her long shape. Sinking beside her, he lifted an ankle and started at the back of her calf, kissing, sucking, and occasionally languorously licking up her skin.

“Legs, legs, legs, woman,” he moaned in a husky mock complaint. “Jesus.”

She giggled again, shocked he was talking to her—about this. About her. While they were doing this. It was strange, watching him adore her, but it also felt necessary. Part of the healing. Part of the uniting process.

Grissom kissed over the outside and top of her thigh, and she instinctively spread herself for him, willing him to please her. A determined hand crept up and teased a breast, dipping south to tease her even more.

If he didn’t touch her soon, she was going to scream. Sara decided to distract herself, and reached for the button of his pants. Swiftly, she undid it, stroking him through his boxers after lowering the zipper. His rumbling groan made her crazy—that, and the fact that he was now kissing across her abdomen, playing idly with the string of her panties. He ran a finger under the fabric, taking his time lowering it over her hip—just a little—his mouth never leaving her soft skin. She wanted to rip off her own underwear and scream, “Just fuck me already!” but she didn’t. This torture was magnificent, and it amazed her how very close to orgasm she was again, when he hadn’t yet touched her where she ached the most.

He moved to her other hip, this time using his teeth to pull the side of her panties down, his beard prickling her skin all the while. It was incredibly erotic and arousing, watching him. She was amazed by him, by his sensual adoration. She raised herself up to help, and he tugged her underwear down over her rear end, but no farther.

Torture. She wriggled a little, but he just kept kissing, biting, tugging the garment lower, lower, to her thighs. He rubbed his face into her coarse thatch of hair, nuzzling, teasing her. She grabbed his hand finally—completely out of patience—putting it where she wanted to be touched, and he obliged, sinking two fingers into her amazingly wet folds, bringing her even closer—yes, right there, keep going, she thought.

But then he proceeded with the underwear project, slowly dragging them down her legs, and smiling when she let out a whimper. Her knees fell to her sides, and he could no longer resist the sight or scent of her, dipping his head and lapping at her a few times. Sara hissed and moaned, bucking up immediately. She was easy to navigate, despite the rush of excitement at finally tasting her, having her. Sara, Sara, Sara. Right here for him. He slid his fingers into her again while his tongue circled her clitoris rhythmically, and a long, low sound came from her throat.

And then she spewed, “Oh,god,oh,yes,oh,holyfuckingoh,mygod,rightthere…” as she writhed beneath him. It all ran together, and for a second, he almost laughed. But she was so incredibly hot and wet, needing release. Needing him. The dampness on the front of his boxers continued to spread. It had been way too long since he’d had sex. Was it possible he forgot how much fun this was?

He wasn’t counting, but he swore it wasn’t thirty seconds later that Sara came, loudly, spurting a rush of liquid he longed for. Sweaty, sticky and wet, he let his mouth trail up and across her body, pausing to suck on her still erect nipples, listening to Sara purr and mutter praise and thanks for his sexual talents. He quickly kicked off his pants that had slipped to his knees, and then he suspended himself over her, devouring her neck. He kissed her rosy cheek sweetly. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered unsteadily, unsure where to put his face. She turned, startled by the question, and gave him a baffled, incredulous look.

It wasn’t his fault. He was scarred for life by an ex-girlfriend who slapped him hard—across the face—for kissing her after oral sex. Never again would he proceed without permission. “I was just…you know…” he trailed off and motioned with his eyes toward the bottom of the bed, running a hand over his beard reflexively.

Sara let out a laugh and grabbed his face, kissing him hard, eagerly meeting his tongue with hers, experiencing her own heady scent and taste. She hated that it turned her on even more, but it did. Instinctively, her legs opened further, and he pressed against her as they kissed, still wearing his boxers. He felt so wide and hard, and God, she wanted to fuck him for a week straight.

With firm hands on his shoulders, she pushed, shifting her legs and making him turn over. She smiled at the confused look in his eye and then hummed her way down his chest, licking this way and that, lowering a hand between his legs. Then both hands slipped into his boxers, working them down. When they were off and hanging on one ankle, Sara ran her tongue up the length of his sizeable erection, fondling him sensually, until the sound of his voice made her freeze.

“I’m going to last about two seconds if you keep doing that. Get up here.”

She laughed and let him scoop her into his arms, their legs tangling, mouths crashing, and bodies rolling.

With shaky fingers, he played between her legs for a moment, stroking in and out, happy to find her still sopping wet. Kissing her and touching her left him dizzy and he was thrown when he felt her take him in her hand, guiding him closer. She fondled the swollen head with her agile fingers, smearing the leaking fluid up and down as she squeezed.

The thrust of his tongue in her mouth and the pumping action of his hand made her crazy, and the sweet stiffness of him, so close to her, so close—right there between her fingers, right there. That’s right. So close. She wanted him. Now. Now. Now.

She lolled her head back when just the tip of him pushed inside her, and she moaned and sang out a little, needing more. More. She was kissing all over his face, mumbling again. “So good, Gil. So good. God! I want you so much.”

He thrust further into her, gently, groaning into her neck, sighing her name with his own personal melody. They were gasping, grunting, and began moving in sync, the sound of their flesh slapping and squishing together urging them on even more.

Now, he was pushing as deep as he could go, sliding powerfully into her tight, slick warmth, and he could tell he was about to explode. He reached down with his hand to stimulate her clitoris directly, but she grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “No, don’t, just…give me…a little more,” she cried, meeting his thrusts and increasing the pace. “So close, ohmygod!”

“Honey, I can’t hold on. You—you are so fucking perfect, Sara!” he growled, and she smiled against his mouth.

“Oh, God, this feels so good!” Her face was all twisted up in glorious pleasure, and he felt the surge of his impending orgasm.

“C’mon, baby, that’s it. Come with me, please,” he urged desperately, knowing he was losing control. He kissed her and they locked eyes for several seconds as they rocked, and suddenly everything went crazy. They were really doing this, after all these years. He shivered at the sight of Sara, under him, letting him fuck her like he’d always wanted, and he knew it was real and that he loved her and that she probably loved him, too. She, in turn, started to cry from the sheer release. He was really inside her, fucking her, finally, and it wasn’t just some angry one-night stand. She’d never been so in love with anyone, ever.

“Ohhhh God! Yes!” she screamed, and when her muscles tightened around his shaft, he lost all control, coming hard in her. They continued thrusting slowly until he was empty and began to soften inside her, exchanging sloppy kisses and breathing each other’s hot breath. It was so sweaty and musky and gross, but it was the best kind of gross, ever.

“Well,” Sara sighed, putting her forehead against his and holding him close, still reeling.

“Yeah. Well!” He ran his fingers along her thigh and held her perfect ass in his hands. Then he watched as she licked her dry lips, and he swore he felt some tiny part of his dick go firm again.

“Now what are we going to do?” he deadpanned, and she laughed out loud.

“We’ll just keep doing that again and again,” she replied, turning her face to kiss him.

“I don’t think it’ll ever get boring.” Grissom gave an impish grin that made her stomach flutter.

Then suddenly, his expression changed. He looked utterly serious and pensive, and it really worried her. He regretted it.

“You okay?” she asked finally, holding on to his bicep.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, kissing her cheek and hugging her a moment. “I just uh…” he trailed off and released a cleansing-type sigh. “I’m just trying to figure out when…” Looking at her, a glimmer of panic streaked his eyes. “It’s nothing,” he blurted, looking away nervously.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” Sara pleaded gently, scared he was pulling away from her already. “It’s just me,” she soothed, threading her fingers through his, keeping the connection as tangible, yet simple, as possible.

He looked at her adoringly, full of affection and desire, and he essentially gave up, right there. Just her. Wasn’t that the truth—she was just Sara.

“Somewhere in the past few mon—uh…years…I fell in love with you,” he announced plainly, searching her eyes for a reaction.

Sara felt instantly emotional and swallowed hard. “Oh.”

“Oh?” he asked incredulously, amazed by her brief, somewhat aloof reply.

Then she laughed and buried her face in his neck, and he relaxed a little. “Thank God,” she said against his skin, squeezing him tighter. “I love you, too.”

THE END.