Work Text:
"Oh, god," Nick moaned, his hands fisting into the white bedsheets. He only loosened his grip when he heard the fabric tearing, and another agonised moan left his throat.
"Gil, stop it," he panted. "You're killing me."
"Do you really want me to stop?" his lover asked, stopping his ministrations long enough to look up from where he knelt at the foot of the bed and raise his eyebrows in question.
Nick was too breathless to frown, but he managed to shake his head. "Not really," he admitted.
The grin on Gil's face was almost frightening, and when the older man leaned down and licked his lips, breathing cool air over the wet skin, Nick moaned again. He'd never thought of Gil as a man with a fetish, but now that the warm mouth latched onto another part of tender flesh, he had expert proof to the contrary.
"Gil," Nick half-pleaded, half-protested. He could almost feel the grin against his skin, feel the sharp puff of air escaping his lover's mouth as he tried to hide the sound of his amused snort.
"Nick," he replied earnstly, earning himself a gentle kick against his arm.
Smiling, Gil trailed his tongue over the thin skin of Nick's ankle, biting and nipping around the bone, then moved down to the toes, perfect toes. Nick's feet were perfectly shaped, and in perfect proportion to the rest of his body. It was a beauty to watch him walk around barefoot in the summer, see him towel those perfect feet dry.
Gil placed a kiss on each toe, then, starting with the biggest, sucked them into his mouth and played with them, his hands stroking up and down Nick's legs. The toes slipped from his mouth and Gil nuzzled the sensitive sole of Nick's right foot, placing a kiss in its centre.
"Gil, come up here and finish what you started!" Nick's voice would have sounded commanding if not for the needy whine that turned out to be his lover's name and the wheezed words that turned out to be the rest of the sentence.
Gil chuckled and gently set Nick's foot down on the bed before crawling up and nestling against the younger man's side. "So I convinced you that your feet are a highly erogenous zone?"
Like there was any doubt, Nick thought, but nodded dutifully. Gil smiled at him almost indulgently as he bent his head to kiss Nick, his hands sneaking downwards.
That night at work, Nick was relaxed and in a very good mood. And quite possibly, barring a convention of people from all over the country who had a foot fetish and decided to come to Vegas that weekend, he was the only man in Nevada with love-bites on his feet.
Gil Grissom had a foot fetish, and Nick loved it.
End