Christmas Countdown: December 19
The drone of the football game, combined with a full stomach, had been too much for Greg. Although he was the youngest of their trio, he'd succumbed first to a post-Christmas dinner nap. Greg's limp body was sprawled across those of this lovers', with his head in Gil's lap and his feet in Nick's.
Gil absently ran his fingers through Greg's unruly hair, not paying a lot of attention to the game. Football wasn't his passion, but it was Nick's and, to a lesser extent Greg's, so Gil was happy to share it with them.
"Oh, come on!" Nick threw his hands up with disgust at something happening onscreen. "Can you believe that bogus call? The referees suck."
Gil blinked owlishly. "Yes, it was really a bad one," he commented tentatively.
Nick heard the hesitation in his voice and looked over at him. "You aren't enjoying this at all, are you?"
"No, I am," Gil protested. "Perhaps the lure of the game eludes me, but I'm enjoying how much you're enjoying it."
Shaking his head, Nick leaned in for a kiss and Gil gladly met him halfway. Squished a little by the movement, Greg murmured in his sleep, but didn't wake.
"It's not fair, though," Nick said after their lips parted. "Last night we went to that parade like Greg wanted and then today we're watching the game. When do we do what you want for Christmas?"
Gil smiled gently and rubbed his knuckles across Nick's cheek. "But I am doing what I want, spending time with the two of you."
"That's nice, Grissom, but there's gotta be something that would be more fun for you," Nick replied. "Maybe there's a bug show in town. Knowing Vegas, it'd probably be roaches dressed up in Elvis suits, but that's more your thing than football."
Nick's attempt made Gil smile, but he shook his head in the negative anyway. "American football can be used to analyze the social structure of our society, complete with gender biases." He smiled again, sheepishly. "Besides, the contusions that come from tackles were a good reference when it came to study victims of domestic abuse."
"I should have known," Nick draped the arm not busy with Greg over Grissom's shoulders. "Only you would come up with stuff like that for liking football." He grinned. "You probably like all the statistics too."
Grisson shook his head. "Baseball is more of a scientist's game."
His comment made Nick chuckle, which in turn woke Greg up.
"Wha's goin' on?" The younger man asked. He started to sit up, only to have both Nick and Grissom hold him down.
"Grissom was just telling me that baseball's a thinking man's game," Nick explained. "More than football anyway."
Greg shook his head. "Well, yeah, but football has men wearing really tight pants." He gave them a sleepy leer. "And they bend over a lot too."
"Down, boy," Nick teased. "Some of those linebackers can top 300 pounds."
Greg's face fell. "Don't I know it. Why is it that the guys who wear the really tight stuff are the last guys that you want to see wearing really tight stuff." He yawned hugely.
Grissom chose to address the yawn rather than the clothing comment. Appropriate apparel was still an issue he and his youngest lover disagreed on.
"You ate too much turkey," Grissom told Greg. "The tryptophan makes you sleepy."
Greg snorted. "Or maybe it's this boss I have that works me into the ground. He's a real slave driver."
"So I've heard," Grissom said dryly. Inside, though, he didn't sound nearly as confident. Was he working Nick and Greg harder because they were lovers? Maybe he was just that worried about playing favorites that he had higher expectations for them.
Nick answered by shutting off the television. "Enough of the game. If we're going to take a nap, let's do it proper and get in bed."
"But that means that I have to get up," Greg protested as he snuggled deeper into their laps. "It's comfy here."
Grissom knew how to deal with that objection. "On the bed, we can hold you between us," he suggested. "Just think how nice that would be."
Greg yawned again. "'Kay."
Despite Greg's agreement, there was no movement forthcoming. Nick grinned at Grissom over Greg's prone body. "Move it, sleepyhead, we can't get up until you do," he poked at his lover. "Rise and shine."
"Okay, okay already," Greg complained as he rolled off their laps and got to his feet. "I'll rise, but I refuse to shine."
There were a lot of comments that Nick or Grissom could have made to that, but both wisely kept their mouths shut. They followed Greg to the bedroom and Grissom soon found himself wedged between the other men; like the filling in a forensic scientist cookie. Greg immediately fell back asleep and a few moments later, so had Nick.
"This really is what I wanted to do at Christmas," Grissom murmured as he kissed each head in turn. "Merry Christmas."
Neither man answered, but Grissom hadn't really expected them to. Deeply content, he closed his eyes and joined them in sleep.
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