CSI - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Two Faces To Every Being ❯ Countdown: Day 3 - Tension ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. It is owned by Bruckheimer Productions. This is a not-for-profit story for entertainment purposes only.

 

Warning: Swearing, Male x Male relationship! All homophobes beware!! I better not get flames or I'll flame you right back and play dirty about it!!

 

Seriously though, there is homosexual content in this fic, so turn back now if that thought squicks you!

 

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Chapter One - Countdown Day 1-Tension

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Greg's P.O.V.

 

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Everyone has two faces. On the outside, Catherine is a woman, who won't take shit from anyone and sometimes seems like she's on everyone's case. However, on the inside, she's just a mother constantly concerned about her daughter. On the outside, I'm a young, immature, and flirty lab tech, who's always playing his music too loud and is constantly looking for approval. On the inside, I'm abused, hurting, and just trying to please. I know, it's cliché, but I'm an honest guy, though I am great at warping the truth.

 

I can tell you seem confused, so I'll start from the top.

 

When I was in college, I met a jock named Mark Henderson. Great guy, lousy temper, and a total lady-killer, like yours truly. The shock of my life came when he asked me out. I've been with him since then. When we graduated together, he asked me to marry him. How the hell do you say no to that?! In my opinion, that was the best thing in the world next to the invention of the mattress. Most of our friends were happy for us and were there when we said our vows. We moved to Vegas four years later, when I was transferred from the San Francisco Crime Lab to the Vegas lab. Two years later was when our troubles started.

 

First, it was arguments. When he started getting physical with me (and I'm not talking sexually), I left. Several times, in fact. Except, we've been together for almost seven years now and he's half the reason I ever got my job at the lab. So, I take it, fight back, and wear long-sleeved shirts and spiked wrist-bands to hide any marks he leaves on me.

 

Frankly, I think I should win an Oscar. Gris and the other don't notice or suspect a thing. Though, during the last drug test, I think the drug inspector was a little suspicious when he found large traces of pain killers in my system. He commented this to Grissom, and I just told him that I had an accident at home. Alongside the pain killers, I use vitamin E cream to get the small scars on my body to fade.

 

But, enough about me.

 

At the moment, I was rocking away to some random Marilyn Manson song. I was waiting for the results of some blood samples to finish processing, when Nick and Warrick came in.

 

“Hey, G, whatcha got for - wait, what's that?” Nick asked in mid-sentence, after Warrick stopped the song. I really do wish they'd hit the pause button; it wouldn't kill them.

 

“What's what?” I inquired, a little confused.

 

“That, on your finger.” Nick grabbed my left hand, holding it up.

 

Warrick let out a low whistle. “Greg, you're married?!” He said in surprise.

 

My blood ran cold. Shit, I forgot to take my wedding ring off! Thankfully, though, the print chose that time to spit the results out. Instead of answering his question, I pulled my hand out of Nick's grasp and rolled over to the printer, grabbing the sheet. “The blood on the blade is your vics and the epithelial cells I found on the handle are your suspects.” I said, handling them the sheet of paper. “Now, if you'll all excuse me, I have paperwork to do. Go, shoo!” Well said, Sanders.

 

They both gave me a looks that clearly said, `We'll talk about this later,' before they left.

 

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I think Lady Luck was with me today. Nick and Warrick had to pull a double, so I managed to get out of the lab before they tried to corner me.

 

I was humming to `God is a DJ' by Pink, all while having wondrous thoughts of making Mark breakfast then crawling into bed. I didn't see any point in making myself something to eat because I wasn't feeling hungry. Guess I drank too much coffee. I pulled up to the house Mark and I bought six months after we moved to Vegas and turned my car off and headed inside.

 

By the time I finished making French toast, coffee, and eggs, I felt totally dead on my feet. Weird, because there wasn't even that much of a hassle at the lab either. As I was striping down, I heard the shower going, signaling that Mark was up. I fell into the sheets without another thought.

 

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Mmmm, I was having the best -or strangest- dream of my life. I was blindfolded and my skin was on fire. I whimpered, my thighs quivering under a pair of wicked lips. I'm pretty sure my eyes went wide when lips descended onto my lips. Wait, two pairs of lips? Oh, this dream was definitely getting interesting. I started trembling all over, when the mouth that was suckling on my thighs moved up and engulfed my cock in heat.

 

“Greggo…wake up…”

 

That voice sounded familiar. When I opened my eyes, I found Mark on top of me, smiling. My eyes focused on him and everything around him. I saw he was nude and had lit pillar candles on the desk. “Mark?” My voice was thick with sleep and arousal.

 

“Happy 7th anniversary, baby,” Mark whispered, kissing me. Fuck, I knew I forgot something! Wait, I've said that before, haven't I?

 

I leaned into the kissing, sighing contently, the thoughts of forgetting our anniversary….forgotten. I was a little startled when I felt an oil-slick hand knead my ass. Mark rarely took his time preparing me, ever since he found out how much I got turned on getting taken roughly.

 

By the time Mark was finished preparing me, I was squirming against him, panting with need. “Dammit Mark, just fuck me already!” I demanded, bucking against him impatiently.

 

My husband grinned wolfishly at me. “You turn me on so much when you get demanding. Do you want me to slam my thick cock into you so hard you won't be able to sit straight for days or do you want me to take you gently as if you were a virgin?”

 

I growled at him, pulling him into a bruising, as I locked my ankles around his waist. “Fuck me now, or you'll regret it!”

 

“As you wish, baby.” I cried out, arching wantonly as he roughly penetrated me. As we started moving faster, I distinctively heard the headboard smack into the wall with every thrust Mark made. Good thing we don't live in an apartment or condo, or the neighbors would be quite annoyed.

 

My hips began to jerk violently when Mark started repeatedly jabbing my prostate. “Uh…Mark…”

 

“C'mon, babe, cum, I wanna feel you clench around my dick,” Mark hissed, biting my bottom lip. I lifted my lust-clouded eyes to his face. Seeing the red and sweaty face contorted in pleasure sent a pang of arousal through my veins to my neglected cock. When he moved his hand to my erection, it only took a few quick strokes to before I dug my nails into his shoulders, gasping out as I started convulsing while I came.

 

It took a while to get my bearings together before I became focused on reality. I turned my head to the side to see Mark lying on his side with his, “I just had the best lay of my life” grin on his face.

 

“You better get your tight ass in the shower,” he said, lazily stroking my hip.

 

“What time is it?”

 

“Five minutes after your alarm clock was suppose to go off,” Mark replied, getting up. “I'll go make us something to eat.”

 

“Okay.” I laid there for a few minutes before I stiffly got up and headed to the bathroom.

 

After I finished cleaning myself up and styling my hair, I slipped into some clothes and headed towards the kitchen. I watched Mark make dinner, with a smile on my face. I wonder if he's increased his work out time. Recently, I noticed that he's been looking broader in the shoulders like Nick or Warrick.

 

I went over and helped set the table while Mark dished up cheese burgers. Everything was going well until Mark looked out the kitchen window (which overlooked the driveway) with a frown.

 

“What's wrong?” I asked, sitting down.

 

“Where's my car?”

 

I groaned, smacking my forehead. “Oh shit, I forgot.” What the hell, that's the third damn thing I've forgotten.

 

“What?! Greg, you said you were going to get it from the shop, clean it, and wax it for me!” Mark shouted, his eyes suddenly blazing. One thing I've always tried to put up with is Mark's temper, which is shorter than the hairs on Warrick's face.

 

“Whoa, Mark calm down!” I said, standing. “I was tired, today was lousy, and I just forgot.”

 

“Bull shit!” I flinched when he shoved our dinner to the floor. “You're always having a lousy day! You never get days off-”

 

“That's not true! I had a day off last week!”

 

“Yeah, and all you did was sleep!”

 

“I spent three shifts on nothing but coffee sifting through backlogged evidence! I had a damn right to sleep that long!” Now, I was getting pissed. “Look, I said I was sorry!”

 

“You know, it wouldn't kill you to take a fucking vacation once in a while,” he growled, pacing.

 

“I spent it in San Francisco two months ago when my parents got into that car accident, but you were too busy Romeo-ing your secretary to notice!” I snapped. Okay, that was a low blow, but it's true, though I forgave him after several sessions with a marriage counselor.

 

Smack!

 

That, I was sort of expecting, but I didn't expect it to hurt that much. I gripped the kitchen table to keep my balance with one hand, while my other hand clutched my mouth. I could taste blood on my tongue as I glared at my green-eyed spouse.

 

He blinked at me as if he just realized what he did. “Baby, I- Greg I'm-”

 

“Save it,” I spat. “I'm going to work.” With that, I grabbed my jacket and keys and headed out the door.

 

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Jodine16: There finished. Well, the first chapter anyway. Comments would be nice!