A/N: First CSI fic, so may be a little off. This is after the 1/10 episode where the CSIs solve a murder at a rodeo.
The case itself hadn't been hard, but it was filled the twists Nick had come to expect after working in Las Vegas for so long. Complete with suicide risks and bull semen, the case had really taken it out of the CSI, and he was ready for a relaxing day of mindless television with a chilled beer in hand.
When he got home, Greg was already sprawled out on the couch, his long legs taking up every inch of space. After waving him off in the parking lot (they still kept two cars and commuted to work at staggered times to keep up appearances,) Nick spent another hour filling out paper work to wrap everything up, all the while thinking over in his head what he planned to say to Greg when he finally got home.
Driving leisurely, like he always did on Texas country roads, Nick finally arrived home to the sleeping Greg. Trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake his sleeping beauty (a pet name Nick coined after finding a picture of a two-year-old Greg dressed as the Disney princess, to which Greg started calling him Magnum P.I. in an attempt to never let him forget the mustache faux pas,) the older CSI climbed into their bedroom, extracting a cowboy hat that he had carted with him when he moved to Las Vegas all those years ago.
Slipping the straw garment onto his head, Nick headed over to the couch and, still maintaining his stealth, kissed his slumbering princess awake. Greg was slow to open his eyes, and seemed to become a little confused by the sight of Nick before him wearing his Western garb.
"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," the bed-headed CSI yawned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes to take in the sight.
"You like?" Nick grinned, and leaned forward to place a peck on his lover's lips.
"What are you up to now? Thinking of running off with the rodeo there, cowboy?" Greg smiled a little, loving when he could make fun of Nick's southern upbringing.
"Only if you'd be my clown," Nick teased back, leaning in for another kiss, this time a little longer, although still chaste.
"So what are we up to?" Greg asked, starting to get up, most likely to head into the kitchen to feed his never satiated appetite.
Nick pressed the lanky CSI back down onto the couch, determined to tell him what he had been thinking about since the end of the case. Confused, Greg seemed to just fall back down on the couch, recognizing something in the older man's expression that let him know he was serious.
"Hey, is everything OK?" Greg inquired, worried. "You're not actually leaving, are you? Because if so, I don't..."
Nick shut him up with a hand over the mouth, and a slight mirth in his eyes.
"No, Greggo, I am not leaving. You make too mean of a cup of coffee for that to make any sense," the Texan grinned wide, masking his slight nervousness at the situation.
With this, Greg's body seemed to relax, and he leaned back into an almost cocky position on the couch, something that seemed to come so naturally to him.
"Greg, I don't know, with this case and all, I've been thinking..." Nick paused and checked his partner's slightly bemused face before continuing, "and I want us to do everything. I want to live in a house where the wind comes into the porch off the prairies, just like that woman down at the chapel said that girl wanted."
Seemingly unfazed, Greg opened his mouth. "So what, you want to move or something? Kind of sudden, but..."
A little frustrated, Nick tried to explain himself.
"It's not really that I want to move, I'm just saying that's what I want in a future for us. I want to take care of you, and pay your bills, everything that a good man should do. It may seem cheesy, but one day I want us to be the ones getting married in some chapel on the strip, even if it's only symbolic or whatever, and then we can have our own ranch and get old and saggy together. And I know maybe that's not what you want right now, and maybe you're not thinking that far ahead, but I'm reaching the point in my life where I just want to settle down with that one person, and... I don't know..." Nick trailed off, done with explaining what he wanted to his young partner.
For moments that seemed to Nick like ages, Greg just sat there and stared at his lover, seeming to process everything Nick just fed to him in a matter of a few breaths of air. The older CSI was starting to get a little nervous, fidgeting a little in his seat and about to get up when Greg's hands his shoulders pulled him down this time. Greg, with a shining of happiness in his eyes, started to run his hands through Nick's dark hair, smoothing over the few grays starting to appear.
"You're getting a little mushy with age," Greg said before tightening his fingers and pulling Nick's lips to his in a fierce kiss, nibbling his partner's lower lip before pulling away.
"I take it that's a yes on my semi-proposal?" Nick chimed, his confidence returning with the kiss. "I mean, I don't have any thing to give you as promise or anything, but..."
Nick was interrupted by Greg.
"That's alright, as long as you can come up with one of those electric bull things they used down at the rodeo. That'll be promise enough, cowboy," Greg winked before pulling Nick onto the couch with him.