PelaamΒ© 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."