Pairing: Warrick Brown/Eric Delko
Category: First time
Summary: Who knew that renewing an acquaintance could lead to extra credit?
Author's Note: For hsapiens (she who must be obeyed), upon reading “Water Boy,” insisted on Warrick/Eric smut.
“You know you need those course hours if you want certification as a senior crime scene analyst, Eric,” Calleigh said sternly. “And I know you've already put off the training twice.”
“We were involved in major cases both times! And now--.”
“And now you have to take this course or it'll be another year before you'll be eligible for promotion. What are you waiting for?”
Eric shook his head and sighed. Calleigh wouldn't have understood his answer. He wasn't sure he understood the ambivalence that had recently engulfed him, either. He knew only that he wanted out of the Miami-Dade Crime Lab. He still found the work itself fascinating, but he was sick of the politics and most of the people he worked with, and the relentless tedium of the job was draining Eric's energy and enthusiasm. Spending three days taking a course on blood pattern analysis wasn't going to improve things. At this point, even a promotion wouldn't help--not as long as he was stuck working in his current job, anyway.
“H is never going to go for it,” he said.
“I've already spoken to him,” Calleigh replied. “He knows that you missed the training session in Doral because your expertise was needed on that murder on the pier. So he's authorized you to take the training elsewhere.” She smiled triumphantly and handed him an envelope.
“What's this?” Eric asked quizzically.
“I took the liberty of calling the Seattle PD and registering you. Don't bother thanking me. It's for your own good, Eric. You need the course hours to qualify for certification, you're overdue for promotion and let's face it--you need to get away from here for a while.”
“I'll agree with that last part,” he said. “Thanks, Cal.” He took the envelope and stuffed it into his bag.
Two weeks later, Eric sat in a meeting room at a conference center in Seattle listening to Gil Grissom lecture on the characteristics of passive bloodstains. He was fascinated; almost as soon as he sat down he forgot how much he'd grown to hate his job and fell in love with forensic science all over again. Eric listened eagerly, took copious notes and engaged in the discussion with his classmates. By the time they broke for lunch, his enthusiasm for his career choice was renewed. Eric wandered into the next room for lunch and joined the line for the buffet. He filled his plate and took a seat at an empty table near the window, overlooking the view. He began to eat his sandwich as he looked over the materials in his folder.
“Mind if we join you?” someone said. Eric looked up and saw Gil Grissom regarding him expectantly.
“Uh, sure,” he said awkwardly.
He shoved the papers back into the folder and set it aside as Gil sat down. He was quickly joined by several others, and the table was soon filled with mostly young CSIs eager to glean a bit of extra insight from the eminent forensic scientist. Eric was apparently more experienced than most of the people at the table and wasn't interested in trying to be teacher's pet, so he was a bit surprised to find himself the focus of Gil's attention nonetheless.
“I understand you're not from the local area,” he said conversationally.
“That's true,” Eric replied, quickly clearing his throat. “I'm from Miami-Dade PD.”
“That's a long way from home.”
“Yeah,” he said sheepishly. “I missed this course when it was offered in my area. Our lab was in the midst of an important case and I was needed. But I need the training hours to qualify for promotion, so my lab sprung for the course here.”
“You're the underwater search and recovery guy,” the man beside Gil said. “I thought I knew you.” Eric looked up and saw a vaguely familiar face. The eyes, however, were unforgettable. “Warrick Brown,” he said extending his hand. “We worked together on that kidnapping case two years ago.”
Warrick Brown. Eric could finally put a name to the man whose eyes had stalked his dreams for weeks after that case. He felt Warrick's piercing gaze--very much as he had on those long, hot nights years earlier--and quickly averted his eyes to the hand before him, hoping that Warrick could not see into his mind at that moment.
“Eric Delko,” he replied. “The police chief's daughter, right?”
“That's right,” Warrick said, nodding. “I told you about the team we worked with, Gil. They were rather impressive,” he said, as his eyes raked over Eric's face. Eric frowned briefly, but directed his attention back to Gil when he spoke again.
“If you're the underwater search and recovery specialist, you must have been involved in that multiple homicide on the pier,” he said. Eric nodded and they fell into a conversation about the case. Gil had read about it extensively and he asked several questions. Eric was impressed by the breadth of Gil's knowledge and curiosity, but he found Warrick's presence more than a little distracting. Fortunately, several others took part in the discussion, which gave Eric an excuse to avert his eyes when the heat became too great. He was relieved when the discussion ultimately had to be cut short to resume the session.
When the first day of training was over, Eric decided to take a walk. He'd never been on the west coast before and he was determined to take in a bit of the local color while he could. Eric also wanted to get away from the conference center for another reason. Warrick Brown hadn't attended the afternoon session, but he'd occupied the bulk of Eric's thoughts all the same. Eric thought it would be a good idea to put a little distance between himself and the object of his obsession. He was only in Seattle for two days; no point in getting all worked up over something that would never happen.
Eric left the conference center with no particular destination in mind, although he was armed with a map and a travel guide Calleigh had stuck in his briefcase before he left. He took in a few of the local sights before he found a small brew pub some distance from the hotel and settled in at a table. He was reading the menu when he heard a familiar voice.
“Is this seat taken?”
Eric looked up and saw Warrick standing next to his table. He was tucking a pair of sunglasses into the pocket of his shirt, which was buttoned only halfway up to reveal an expanse of sculpted muscle. Eric only allowed himself a moment to admire the man before him before he smiled and offered him a seat.
“Shouldn't you be back in your hotel room cramming for tomorrow's quiz?” Warrick teased as he sat down.
“Will there be one?” Eric asked, not at all flustered by the possibility of a pop quiz, but more than a little rattled by Warrick's sudden appearance. As if aware of Eric's thoughts, Warrick leaned forward and propped his elbows on the table, closing the distance between the two men and enveloping Eric in a haze of subtle, intoxicating musk.
“Depends on the instructor's mood. He's a little unpredictable,” Warrick replied cagily.
“Grissom doesn't strike me as the type.”
“Griss? Are you kidding? Every day in the field with him is like your freshman year in high school,” Warrick replied as he stretched out his long legs before him. If he'd intended to brush them against Eric's as he did so, his face gave nothing away. “The man's a walking encyclopedia and he expects his people to constantly expand their knowledge.” A waiter came by and handed him a menu. “This place is off the beaten path,” he said casually.
“You found it,” Eric replied a bit defensively.
“I knew where to look. A friend in the Seattle Crime Lab turned me onto this place the last time I was here,” Warrick replied with a shrug. “He was a big beer nut and told me I had to try some micro-brew he was crazy about. I liked the food and the vibe so I came back.”
“I just lucked into it,” Eric confessed. “I was checking out the neighborhood and got hungry.”
“I'm a bit hungry myself,” Warrick replied lowering the menu to meet Eric's eyes. The two gazed at each other in silence for a moment before the waiter returned. Warrick ordered beers for both of them and asked the waiter to come back for their dinner orders. “As long as you're here you may as well try the special brew. So what do you think of Seattle?” he asked, turning his piercing gaze on Eric once more.
“Nice place, but I don't think I could ever live here,” Eric said as he looked around. “I'd miss the sun.” Warrick smiled.
“No hurricanes,” he said.
“Earthquakes are a distinct possibility, though,” Eric quipped back.
“I guess. So you're a sun lover, eh? You ought to come to Vegas, then. We get more than 320 days of sun a year.”
“No beach,” Eric replied as the waiter returned.
“Picky,” Warrick teased.
“Hey, everyone has needs,” Eric said. “I need the water.”
“Would Lake Tahoe qualify?”
“A lake?” Eric said doubtfully.
“A big honking lake,” Warrick replied, “with no gators.” Eric smiled, recalling that when he and Warrick met, Eric was searching for a vehicle in gator-infested waters.
“I'm sure Las Vegas has some sort of dangerous predator,” he said.
“Oh yeah, plenty--most of them on two legs,” Warrick said enticingly. He slowly sat back, his thigh once more casually brushing against Eric's. The waiter returned and they ordered dinner. As they waited for it to arrive they fell into easy conversation about the training course. When their dinner came, the conversation turned to food.
“How's the crab?” Eric asked.
“Better than I remember. Certainly better than anything I ever had in Vegas.”
“Why would you even eat crab in Vegas? It can't possibly be as good as it is on the coast.”
“I don't live on the coast. I take what I can get,” Warrick said.
“Sad way to live,” Eric said with a smirk.
“Depends on what I can get,” Warrick said, flashing a confident grin. His thigh brushed Eric's again, and this time it was impossible to ignore the intent. Eric looked up but Warrick's eyes were on a pair of women who were walking by their table.
“Are we still talking about food?” Eric asked, uncertainly. The cool green eyes returned to his and held Eric in thrall.
“What I said applies to all sorts of things,” Warrick replied, leaning forward provocatively. “Right now I'm wondering what I could have for dessert.” Eric reluctantly tore his gaze away, but before Warrick could react Eric signaled for the waiter and turned back to him.
“What are you interested in?” he asked as he reached for his wallet and pulled out a credit card.
“Why don't we take this discussion outside,” Warrick suggested. The bill came and he paid it before Eric had a chance to do so. He rose and gestured for Eric to lead the way out.
“Where to?” Eric asked.
“I can show you one of those two-legged Las Vegas predators, if you're interested,” Warrick said as he placed his hand on the small of Eric's back and steered him toward his car, which was parked at the end of the street.
“I'd like to see that,” Eric said with a grin. “What's their usual prey?” Warrick gave him a slow head to toe leer as he unlocked the car.
“Oh, he'll eat whatever looks good,” Warrick drawled.
“I bet they're good eating, too, if you can catch one,” Eric replied with a pointed look of his own.
“They're surprisingly easy to catch with the right bait.”
“See, as an underwater specialist, I know all about bait.”
“Ooh, I knew I should have made a move when I was in Miami,” Warrick said, mostly to himself as he slid into the driver's seat.
“You should have.” Eric said, turning to look at him.
Warrick rolled his eyes and cursed softly. He started the car and drove the short distance back to the hotel. Neither man spoke, anticipation negating their ability to make conversation. They pulled into a parking space and Warrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a key card, which he handed to Eric.
“I'm in 309. Give me a few minutes, then let yourself in,” he said.
“Is your boss next door?” Eric asked. “Maybe we should--.”
“Rule number one--never get a room on the same floor as your boss,” Warrick said smiling, cutting him off. “I'm just a little paranoid.”
For an answer, Warrick reached over and slowly ran his hand up Eric's thigh. Eric closed his eyes as Warrick's hand found its prize. Eric swallowed hard and opened the door. He heard Warrick's laughter as he practically stumbled out of the car and quickly made his way into the building. He took the elevator up to his floor and went to his room. He paced nervously for a few minutes, then took the stairs down to Warrick's room. He let himself in and heard the shower running.
“Warrick?” he called softly.
“Come on in,” he replied from inside the bathroom. Eric pushed the door--which was slightly ajar--and stepped into the room. Warrick pushed back the curtain, revealing his naked body. “Since you like the water so much, I thought I'd get wet for you,” he said as he slowly ran a soapy hand across his chest. Eric watched, mesmerized, as it made its way down his torso and over Warrick's turgid cock. “You going to just stand there, or--.”
Eric smiled and pulled his tee over his head. He let it drop to the floor and quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothing. Warrick watched him hungrily, stroking himself until Eric stepped into the tub. Warrick immediately pushed him to the wall and pressed their bodies together. He placed his palms on the tile to each side of Eric's head and kissed him. Eric allowed his hands to wander, up Warrick's torso, over well-sculpted biceps and shoulders, down his back and finally to his hips, as their tongues began a slow dance.
Warrick finally came up for air and smiling, he reversed their positions so that Eric stood under the spray. He grabbed the soap and worked up a lather in his hands, which he slathered over Eric's body. He leaned in to kiss him again, pulling him closer. Eric threw his head back when Warrick moved down to his throat, licking and nibbling the sensitive spot just below his ear as his hands began to soap Eric's torso.
“Tell me what you're up for,” he whispered in Eric's ear.
“What did you say earlier? Depends on what I can get,” Eric replied.
“You can get anything you want.”
“I want it all,” he said into Warrick's shoulder. “I want everything.”
Warrick didn't need any further encouragement. He slowly and carefully rinsed Eric off and then fell to his knees. Eric gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head as Warrick took him into his mouth. His hands kneaded Warrick's hair in time with Warrick's achingly slow pace. He tried to move his hips, but Warrick held him firmly in place. He seemed determine to torture Eric, glancing up as he withdrew just enough to smile up at him. Eric shut his eyes and shuddered as Warrick began to lick the length of his erection. But Warrick suddenly sputtered and coughed. Eric opened his eyes and bent to assist him.
“You all right, man?”
“Yeah,” Warrick managed. “Mind if we move this to a dryer location before I drown?”
“Don't worry,” Eric replied, helping him up. “I wouldn't let that happen.”
“You're a lifeguard, too?” he asked.
“It's part of the territory,” Eric said with a shrug as he wrapped a towel around his waist and followed Warrick into the bedroom. Warrick sat on the edge of the bed. Eric hovered worriedly, but he patted the mattress next to him and Eric sat down.
“So much for me trying to be all creative and--.”
“Hey, it was working for me,” Eric interjected, reaching up to wipe a droplet of water off of Warrick's cheek.
“It was working for me, too, until I damn near swallowed a gallon of water,” he laughed.
“There's no water out here,” Eric said, pointedly looking around. He rose and unwrapped the towel, revealing his naked body to Warrick, who wasted no time reaching out to touch it.
“Damn. I lost my place,” he said with a wink.
“Let's just start over,” Eric said, climbing onto the bed. Warrick nodded at the suggestion. He rose and pulled off this towel and, pausing only long enough to dry his hair a bit, he tossed it over his shoulder and joined him.
The following morning, Eric left his room and walked somewhat gingerly to the elevator. He'd slept very little, leaving Warrick shortly before three o'clock well and truly sated. The sex had been hot and heavy and virtually unceasing, once it began. Eric pressed the button, smiling at the memory. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes.
“You had better be reviewing that directional blood spatter handout you got yesterday,” Warrick said as he entered the elevator with two other people. His eyes twinkled at Eric before he turned to face the doors. “I hear there's going to be a quiz.”
“I'm up for it,” Eric said to his back. Warrick turned his head and shot him a glance.
“I hope so,” he said with a warmth that was lost on the other trainees. The group emerged from the elevator and headed for the breakfast buffet.
“Just so you know,” Warrick said as he sidled up to Eric and reached across him for the coffee, “if you do poorly on the quiz, I'm willing to tutor you until you pass.”
“Thanks, but I don't think I'm likely to fail,” Eric said confidently.
“Oh yeah?” Warrick said as he led the way to the training room. He strode to the front of the room as Eric's mouth fell open. “All right, let's get settled. For those of you who didn't meet me yesterday, my name is Warrick Brown,” he said. “I'll be your instructor this morning...”