Title: Red Heart
Fandom: CSI
Characters: Nightshift CSI's
Prompt: #47 – Heart
Word Count: 3,626
Rating: M (); MA (Content is only suitable for mature adults. May contain explicit language and adult themes.)
Summary: There's a new "Date Rape" drug on the Vegas market and two CSI's are sent undercover to get some Intel on it in an effort to stop its' raging popularity. NickGreg. Nick's POV.
Author's Notes:. Part of the Chemical Trilogy; The events in this fic run somewhat parallel to the events in "Blue Diamond"; WARN: NonCon.
Disclaimer: I own nothing…

His breathing was heavy as he tried not to think of what just happened. He did this every time. He had to. If he didn't the slow burn off might give him a heart attack. He felt nauseous and dirty. He wasn't sure if it was worse the first time around or now. He was disgusted with himself. How could he allow himself to continue to do this? The more emotions he felt the faster he pushed himself to run, limiting his ability to breathe and making him dizzy. He didn't care, he just wanted to forget. He wanted to escape this place and forget everything he'd done here.

But no amount of running could prevent the memories from returning. He'd felt disgust and outrage the first time he done it, to his best friend of all people. He didn't feel it towards the younger man, but towards himself. How could he have allowed himself to betray his best friend's trust in him? He'd sworn to keep the younger man safe and unharmed. Instead he's the one who caused the Californian harm. To make matters worse he wanted to do those things to him, he waited for every chance. He prayed his younger friend would forgive his unforgivable actions, his betrayal of trust. He prayed that the younger man would one day understand that his actions were truly out of his hands.

He stopped the treadmill and collapsed on the floor beside it. Some of them immediately grabbing hold of him and dragging him into the small cage off to the side that had become his home who knows how long ago. Half conscious with only his thoughts for company he wondered how much longer it would take their friends and colleagues to find them. They'd found him once before, they'd find the two of them. He was sure of it.

They had to.


He rubbed his tired eyes and sat heavily on the break room couch. He leaned back resting his head on the furniture's cushioned back and sighed, letting his eyes close. This was the second case he'd personally worked on this month that involved a young woman being drugged and raped – not including similar cases the others had worked on. All the separate incidents had begun to look related after the first three.

"I hear you got another one," the voice of his youngest colleague and best friend reached his ears.

"I really hate this job sometimes," he commented and sighed loudly again.

"I know what you mean," Greg said a he also plopped down on the couch. "How many cases are there now that seem to be connected?"

"That would be twelve in the past two weeks," Warrick's voice was heard as the tall black man sauntered into the break room and lowered himself tiredly into a chair.

"We're already up to twelve?" Sara asked as she made her way over to the fridge, having heard the conversation taking place.

"Sad isn't it," Catherine said as she entered the break room behind Sara.

"It always is," Nick commented, shaking his head. Grissom entered the room.

"I think it would be best if we recapped what all the sexual assault vics have in common, aside from this unidentifiable drug found in their systems."

"Okay," Nick started. "In each case the victim claimed to have been at one of the many clubs in Las Vegas."

"At said clubs they'd each either been hit on or had hit on somebody they'd never seen before," Greg continued.

"Each description was as varied as the vics," Sara added.

"After having a few drinks with this someone, they left the club and went somewhere more secluded – either their own vehicle, or apartment, or even a side alley," Catherine offered.

"The vics then all reported to have then experienced two basic symptoms of something they don't remember ingesting: a decrease in voluntary movement and an increase in sensitivity of sensory receptors, particularly with regards to arousal, effectively rendering the victims submissive to sexual attack.," Warrick summarized.

Grissom sighed and removed his glasses. "And as of yet, this is all we are certain of. I talked to Brass, he's been contacted by LAPD regarding these cases. Apparently there's something about these cases that's similar to something they've noticed happening there."

"Do you think they're all related?" Catherine asked.

"I don't know. Brass will have more info tomorrow." He left and returned to his office. Nick turned to Greg and Warrick.

"So you guys coming over for the game next Saturday?"

"I will definitely be there," Greg said as he stood and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot he'd personally brewed from his personal stash before sitting down.

"Yeah, I'll be there for sure," Warrick nodded.

"Cool," Nick replied and stood to grab a cup of Greg's special coffee.

end flashback

His heart rate had finally slowed and his breathing came easier. He was dizzy and extremely thirsty. He wasn't sure if it had been minutes or hours since he'd regained consciousness, the entire time he'd lain on his back staring drowsily up at the ceiling. Through his clouded mind he heard them approaching his tiny sanctuary in this hell. He heard the jangle of keys and the door to his cage was opened.

"On your feet Travis," one of them barked. He felt a boot sharply hit the side of his bare body and flinched before complying with the command. "Get up, Jacob won't be too pleased if you're unable to make it and someone else had to be sent in your place," the voice taunted. Travis Peterson and Jacob Resh, the aliases they'd been given at the beginning of this undercover operation. When ever these people referred to the two of them by their aliases he wondered whether they were just taunting them or if they genuinely didn't know their true identities.

He was roughly led into the shower room. One half of the room was tiled and had drains built into the floor. He was shoved into this area and tried to keep the water from entering his airways as he was hosed down once more. He felt the harsh spray wash the dirt and sweat and other bodily fluids from his skin, though no amount of water could remove the dirty and used feeling from his flesh. He had a feeling it would never go away.

After drying off he was dragged back to his cage where a tin of water and a plate of foul tasting gruel waited for him. As vile as the gruel tasted he ate it. His captors didn't feed him much. The little bit of water wasn't enough to satiate his thirst, it never was. But it was all he had, and he wasn't about to pass it up if he wanted to make it out of here alive.


A week and a half passed since the start of this undercover operation and Nick was surprised they hadn't been found out yet. He dropped Greg off at his apartment before starting home. While the hours they were out with the Shadow Dragons wasn't any different from their usual graveyard shift he was nonetheless exhausted. He yawned as he entered his house, tossing his jacket onto the couch and dragging his feet to his bedroom. He collapsed forward onto his bed. Blinking, he frowned. This wasn't his room.

He was lying on his back and his mind was kind of scattered. Rubbing his temples and glancing around he found himself to be laying on the stone floor inside a jail-like cage, one that looked to be for a small circus animal. It had been built into the floor and wall of the room he was in. He sat up and looked around, frowning when he took in his surroundings. Outside his bare cage there was one other object in this large room: a treadmill.

The door to the room opened and about three of them came in. One of them removed a large set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door to his cage. Before he could even begin to fight them, the other two grabbed hold of him and forced him to kneel in front of the third man.

"Do you know what this is, Peterson?" The man asked him, holding up a proscription bottle. Inside he could see white pills, each with a blue diamond on them. He shook his head. "It's a specially designed type of aphrodisiac and sexual performance aid developed by one of the pharmaceutical companies controlled by our organization," the man explained. "We've been using it for a number of years now. However this little pill, which we affectionately call Blue Diamond, is something designed for the submissive partner. A side effect of it is partial loss of voluntary movement and a dramatic increase in sexual arousal. It really makes the user want it. Recently we've recently been able to devise a new one." The man took a second proscription bottle from his pocket. This one contained similar white pills, only these had a red heart instead of a blue diamond. "As you can guess, we call this little wonder Red Heart. It's designed as a sexual performance aid for the dominant partner. Just like its counterpart, it increases sexual arousal and lowers voluntary movement. However Red Heart does not limit mobility like Blue Diamond does. On the contrary it enhances mobility and is much more effective than other performance enhancement drugs we've relied on previously."

He swallowed nervously as he watched the man open the Red Heart bottle. He tried to fight the three men but the pill was forced into his mouth along with water and the way they moved and held his head his reflexes caused him to swallow the drug. The two who had a strong hold on him dragged him from the cage and from the room. Once they reached a larger, different room he felt the effects of the drug taking hold. His body temperature was increasing and he tried to fight the men from stripping him of his clothing but couldn't move his limbs the way he wanted to. Once naked they dragged him to the center of the room where he saw another cage. His clear mind was taking in everything around him. The large group of men gathered around drinking a variety of booze. His insides were shocked when he got closer to the cage and saw the current occupant. The cage door was opened and he was thrust inside, landing on top of the naked body already in there.

He watched as Greg blinked slowly, watching his movements as he pushed himself off the smaller man. Their eyes locked and Nick tried to find some indication that Greg knew what was going on. He moved to shake the younger man to get the man's attention but the feeling of Greg's skin under his fingers sent a rush of excited pleasure through him and he couldn't prevent his hands from softly caressing the bare skin of the Californian's torso. He felt himself flush with arousal and watched as the younger man responded the same. He leaned forward, trying to find even a sliver of recognition in his best friend's features. The two were inches apart and he could feel Greg's hot breath on his face. The sensation was slowly becoming more that he could stand. He remembered his captor's explanation of the drugs and knew Greg had been drugged as well. He knew what was going on and what these people were making them do. His brain screamed for his body to obey him and sit back up. But the heat of the younger man's breath on his face caused a pleasing sensation so strong that his body disregarded his wishes and moved forward instead of back.

He felt his hungry lips devouring Greg's and the younger man responding just as strongly to the oral attack. He knew the drugs were very similar, and he remembered from the reports how the Blue Diamond victims were affected. His mind was completely clear and he knew Greg's was too. As his body moved itself between Greg's spread legs, their erections rubbing together, he prayed that younger man would forgive him. He hoped he would understand when all this was over. His mind and soul cried and he cursed himself for not being stronger. Not being able to fight the chemicals that were overriding his brain. He could hear the crowd of men outside the cage, cheering the spectacle they'd caused within. He felt Greg's hand on his chest, the long fingers caressing his skin. He wondered if Greg had any idea he was doing it. Maybe his mind wasn't clear at all. Maybe those victims the team had talked with had been slipped something else.

He gasped slightly as his hips rocked into the smaller man below him, rubbing against him. He felt himself lean forward and was able to stop himself from biting down on the young Californian's neck, restraining himself enough to keep his teeth from sinking into the younger man's skin. The body below him moaned lightly as their skin rubbed together, creating a delicious friction. There was a small clatter to his right and he glanced over to see a small tube of lubricant being slid into the cage. He sat up, pushing himself away from Greg. He knew what he could do with that offending tube. He screamed in his head to push himself farther away from the younger man. His best friend. He couldn't do that to his best friend, not when they were both so heavily drugged. Common sense lost the battle as his body reached forward and picked the object up.

His mental voice repeated to itself that this was not a good idea as his hands opened the tube and squeezed some of the lubricant onto his fingers. He placed a slicked hand between the younger man's legs, locating the small opening behind the scrotum and slowly inserted a finger. Got it was tight. He moved the finger slowly, allowing Greg's body to relax before adding another. He looked up to see the small tears falling from the younger man's eyes. He knew then that forgiveness was a fruitless hope and leaned down to kiss them away, trying to convey how truly sorry he was. When he finally removed his hand he fought to regain control over the raging feeling in his veins but the feeling was too strong. He heard the gasping moan Greg let out as he thrust into him.

He kept the pace slow, not wanting to hurt the younger man any more than he was, all the while hating himself for allowing his body to take such a fierce control. He hit a certain spot that caused Greg to practically throw his head back as he moaned. The throaty cries of pleasure elicited from the younger man caused Nick to lose any hold on reality he still had. He realized that any friendship between him and Greg was now shattered beyond repair as he gave in to the hungry desire coursing through him and he allowed himself to proceed with reckless abandon. He felt Greg's legs wrapping around his waist, matching his thrusts with the same drug-induced eagerness.

He sat back and pulled Greg upright with him, Greg wrapping his arms around Nick's neck. Nick didn't slow his fast, hard pace. Forcing himself not to think he wrapped his hand around Greg's erection between them and matched the thrusts. Trying to escape away from what was happening because when this was all over and reality set in the pain would be too much. He allowed himself to fully let go, to imagine they were some place else, away from this place. Safe. Greg let out a loud, guttural moan as he came in Nick's hand. Greg's tensing body sent him dangerously close to the edge. He leaned forward, pressing the younger man's body back into the floor, he went over the edge and thrust a few more times, pumping his semen deep into the young Californian's body.

He pulled out and saw lights dancing in front of his eyes. He tried to stand and fell dizzily onto the bars of their cage, trying desperately to catch his breath. He focused on trying to stay conscious but his vision was dimming and his throat felt like it was closing up. He felt hands grab onto his arms and drag him to his feet. Next thing he knew he was back in the room with the cage and treadmill. The same man who'd explained the pills was instructing him to get on the treadmill. "You must run, Travis," the man said with a serious and demanding tone. "The drug is still coursing through your veins. If it doesn't burn off quickly and your heart rate slows too much while it's still in your system then your heart will seize up and stop."

At the man's words Nick's conscious mind forced itself just far enough through to understand exactly what was at stake and did as instructed. Every time the memories of what he'd done resurfaced he pushed himself to go faster. He didn't know how long he'd been running but after a while his legs gave out and the men half carried him to the cage he'd been kept in earlier and laid him on the stone floor.

end flashback

He often wondered how long he slept after collapsing off the treadmill. Every time he was on the treadmill he ran until his body literally gave out. The pain he forced himself to go through was an attempt to refrain from focusing on what he was being forced to do. It was happening for so long that he wondered how much of it was still the drug. Now when his captors gave him the Red Heart pill he ingested it without protest.

He didn't even bother getting up when he heard the door outside his cage open. He heard the jingle of the keys as the cage door was also opened. This time, though, he wasn't given a pill to swallow. Two men, larger and stronger than him, grasped his arms as they dragged him to a room he'd never been in previously. He glanced around this new room and his gaze settled on the only things in the room. A chair with straps sitting beside a stool and what looked like tattoo equipment. Once he's strapped securely into the chair and new face entered the room and took a seat on the stool. He watched from the corner of his eyes with detached interest as the man placed a temporary ink imprint on his upper left arm. He watched with mild curiosity as the man filled in the tattoo with black ink. It was a dragon design – the dragon looked to have been made of smoke – outlined by a spade. He was dragged from the room once more when the tattoo artists deemed him ready. Once outside the room the familiar pill is placed on his tongue and by the time he's brought to the viewing cage the arousal in his body is raging in full force. He kneels, noticing the same tattoo now adorning Greg's left arm.

He feels a rush of excitement at the heated groan that escapes Greg's lips through their fiery kiss. The younger man's legs instinctively wrap around his waist, rubbing the bare skin of their bodies together, the sensation causing Nick to moan as well. Their bodies rock against one another and for the millionth time since the first time Nick damns himself for not being strong enough to fight this. He hears the whimpering protest from the Californian as he pushes himself away from the smaller body to retrieve the tube of lubricant that's slid into the cage, hears Greg sigh in satisfaction as he stretches the younger man's entrance. For a moment he was sure Greg was going to succeed in pushing him away before the younger man pulled his body closer, matching his own pounding thrusts.

Their cries of passion are loud and yearning desire is more evident this time, more than ever before. He thrusts and roughly hits Greg's pleasure spot repeatedly, the feelings in his own body suddenly bringing a realization of where the saying that 'too much sex will make you go blind' came from. Greg's back arches and their bodies press closer together. The intensity of the pleasure he feels completely overtakes him and drowns him. He's completely unaware of anything even existing outside their cage and the intensity of Greg's own orgasm brings about his own. In a detached way he feels Greg's body go limp as the younger man passes out. He's roughly removed from the viewing cage and rushed to the room he's kept in, immediately made to run.

He loses himself in his running and presses the button to make the treadmill go faster. His breathing is becoming harder and he struggles to take in air. Spots dance in his vision and he hears sounds surrounding him like people are speaking to him through water. He continues to run, going faster. The sounds are louder now, closer. The tone sounds strained and urgent. He feels consciousness fade and his chest constricts painfully. His legs give out and he feels arms around him as he's caught by someone. His vision fades as his dizzy and detached mind registers that he's being removed from the treadmill. He struggles to breathe through his tightening windpipe. All at once the sounds fade away and everything goes black.

- 30 -


Companion piece to "Blue Diamond"
Continued in "Dragon Spade"

chapter released: January 14, 2008
chapter updated: July 27, 2010