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Oscillate Wildly - Chapter 2
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Rating: PG-13/Teen (This and the previous chapter only.)
Pairing: Gil Grissom/Greg Sanders
Spoilers: Pirates of the Third Reich, Lady Heather's Box, Slaves of Las Vegas
Warnings: Vague mention of kink so far, more explicit kink in the next chapter.
Author's Note: You know how the muses are. You do what they want, not the other way 'round. So, there's no smut yet. Next chapter, promise.
“Face to face, my lovely foe...”
Greg knocked on the solidly built door of the Red Room and waited to enter until he heard Grissom's muted, “Come in”. He stepped inside to find Grissom facing away from him, posture visibly rigid. Grissom was clearly uncomfortable, Greg could read that in his body language, and it gave Greg pause to wonder why Grissom had even bothered showing up at the Dominion.
Greg lowered his voice and spoke softly and commandingly.
“Mr. Grissom? How may I be of assistance this evening?” It was a voice that Greg had cultivated over the last several years, full of measured cadences, and was quite different from his usually boisterous speech patterns. To suppress any minor resemblance to his normal voice, he'd appropriated a little of his Papa Olaf's Norwegian-inflected British accent. Greg knew his dominant voice was different enough that it wouldn't raise suspicion.
Gil turned slowly, facing Greg only after long moments spent gathering his courage. When he looked up, he was startled to see a young man in black garb standing in front of him. He hadn't quite expected this...this lithe Adonis in disguise. He'd expected a woman, for one thing, but his curiosity was certainly piqued.
-*-
Greg hadn't expected the surprise on Grissom's face. He was amused by it, though. Pleased, in fact, that he'd been able to gain an advantage, however small, over Grissom so quickly. Greg looked forward to seeing the surprise that would show on Grissom's face when he eventually found out that the person in front of him was one Greg Sanders, CSI Level 1.
He looked across the space between them and gestured for Grissom to sit in a nearby red velvet wing back chair. Taking a seat opposite Grissom, Greg repeated himself.
“How may I be of assistance this evening?” Greg's voice was silky, inviting, yet with a hint of steel beneath it.
Grissom leaned forward and peered at Greg's mask. “Well, you know my name, but I don't know yours. Why don't we start there?” Grissom had recovered from his shock and his lips had curled upwards in his trademarked smirk.
“Christoffer.” Greg didn't lie about many things, and he found it a little difficult to suppress his usual tendency to tell Grissom everything he knew. But his name wasn't something to be shared with just anyone in a place like this, not if he valued his continued employment with the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Having his supervisor here in front of him, in a club dedicated to the pursuits of domination and submission, was a situation to be dealt with delicately.
“To be honest, Christoffer, I don't know why I'm here.” The tiniest bit of self-effacing humor leaked into Gil's tone. “Poor impulse control, I suppose. I thought perhaps you might help me understand why I find this,” and Grissom swept his hand in a semi-circle, indicating the room and its contents, “so exquisitely fascinating.”
A knowing look flitted across Greg's visible features. “I see. Do you find yourself interested in domination and submission for the behavioral aspects of it, or is it that you find it arouses something inside you that you find hard to define?”
“The psychology intrigues me, yes, but...there's more to it than that.”
Greg leaned forward and caught Grissom's eyes with his own. “You want to experience it yourself, don't you? Isn't that it? You want an empirical experience.”
Gil didn't want to think about the last time that someone had said those exact words to him, but he couldn't deny that Christoffer was right. He simply nodded, unable to speak his desires aloud.
“That can be arranged, Mr. Grissom.”
-*-
“I want to bend / I want this bliss, but something says I must resist...”
Greg had tea brought to the Red Room and after serving both himself and Grissom, he began the long process of bringing to light Grissom's half-imagined fantasies. Greg started by questioning Grissom about his preferences.
“Please understand that the following things aren't being asked for the sake of labeling you, but I'd like to understand what drove you to seek out The Dominion, and what services we might provide you.”
Greg looked Grissom in the eye and asked bluntly, ”Do you consider yourself straight? Bisexual? Gay?”
Gil was a little nonplussed at being asked so directly about his sexual inclinations. It wasn't that he'd never asked himself these same things, but he'd concluded that the question of his sexual orientation might be nothing more than theory; he might never have the chance to experiment and determine whether his theory was provable.
Greg, on the other hand, was more than a little amused to be interrogating his supervisor this way. He knew that at no other time would he be granted such an opportunity, so he intended to make the most of being given free rein to delve into Grissom's secrets and predilections.
“I would say I'm straight, since I've never slept with a man, but there's...there's someone I've found myself attracted to. A man.” Grissom sighed. “He doesn't know,” Grissom added quietly.
Greg took that information and filed it away for future use. Was it someone at work? How many people did Grissom know outside of work? Greg snapped himself back to the matter at hand before Grissom could notice that he'd been distracted by such an unexpected revelation.
Greg pressed on. “Would you have sex with him if the opportunity presented itself?”
“I...I don't know. It would be tempting, but he's my subordinate. It wouldn't be proper. Anyway, there's nothing to indicate he'd even be interested in me.”
Greg was intensely curious as to who Grissom's mystery man was. There were only three possibilities now that Grissom had admitted it was someone on their team. Probably Nick, Greg thought. Just my luck.
“That almost sounds like denial, Mr. Grissom. An excuse you use not to get closer to him. Have you thought about having sex with him? Do you fantasize about it?”
Gil blushed, the answer apparent to anyone who looked at him.
Greg zeroed in for the kill, his voice dangerously soft. “Would you like him to kiss you? To touch you, stroke you? Do you want him to fuck you Mr. Grissom? Tie you up and have his wicked way with your body?”
Gil's face was burning, his skin flushed with the truth of Christoffer's words.
“I think I can tell from your reactions to my questions what the answer is, but I want to hear you say the words.”
Grissom looked a little embarrassed, but managed to get just one word out. “Yes.”
“Yes to what?” Greg wanted to be an obstinate bastard. He wanted to force Grissom to admit that he'd thought about being bound and taken by another man. He wanted to be that man. Now he just had to persuade Grissom.
-*-
By the time the remnants of the tea had been cleared away, Greg had managed to form a coherent scheme.
“Well, Mr. Grissom, now that I know what your desires are, I can suggest some activities that might help you become more comfortable with what you fantasize about. You may not feel able to act on your desire for your coworker, but you may find release in learning more about what it is that you desire from this man. Would you agree?”
Grissom didn't quite know what he was being asked to agree to. “What exactly is it that you propose?”
“Stay here for a few days, let me show you the ways to please a man, the ways to submit to your desires. Nothing illegal, of course.”
Gil considered it. He couldn't see a downside to what Christoffer was suggesting. And really, what did he have left to lose? He'd already had his confessions wrung from him, about his attraction to Greg and this inexplicable need to be dominated. And the person who had forced him to face his desires was offering to help him exorcise these demons. For a fee, of course, but service would be rendered nonetheless. He might even consider it therapy, albeit of a rather unconventional nature.
“I accept, then. Give me a few hours to arrange the vacation time necessary.”
“As you wish. I'll return at 10:00.” Greg was quite pleased that things were playing so neatly into his hands. He'd already requested the next week off in order to watch over The Dominion until Heather felt she would be able to resume her mantle as Lady of the house.
Greg stood, then proffered Grissom his hand, helping him rise from soft confines of his chair. He couldn't resist holding on to Grissom's hand longer than strictly necessary, rubbing his thumb gently across the soft skin of Grissom's fingers.
Gil shuddered at the contact, feeling sparks dart up his wrist and dissipate into a general tingling throughout his arms and chest. He pulled his hand out of Christoffer's grasp reluctantly and admired the view as he watched the enigmatic young man walk away.
"Another life, another time
We're Siamese twins writhing intertwined
Face to face, no telling lies
The masks they slide to reveal a new disguise"
-- Siouxsie and the Banshees - “Face to Face”
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