Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Author: Dr FooFoo
Rating: FRAO
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Warnings: PWP
A/N: The boys don't belong to me, unfortunately, or else they'd be
making out across the lab counters every week. Also, first CSI fic.
Thought I'd start with a bang... pardon the pun. Oh, another thing:
excuse the excessive run-on sentences-ness. It just flowed out! :P
Sorry, puns.
***
Nick stops in the doorway of the motel room and lets his gaze wander
slowly over everything in sight. the carpet is a sickly orange colour
and looks prickly, like those old shag rugs that've had one too many
drinks spilled on them, and suddenly he's not sure why he let Greg
convince him to come here. Greg's apartment isn't *quite* as bad as
Nick accidentally let slip last week and in fact, it's looking a lot
better right now, but he's committed and Greg is pulling suspicious-
looking items out of his black bag on the floor and beckoning Nick
towards the bed.
Nick follows and Greg flops over, only to complain loudly about the
hard mattress, and Nick scowls playfully when Greg says the futon in
his bedroom back home is much more comfortable. But then he's quiet
because Nick's on him suddenly, kissing and pawing and nuzzling, and
he smells like leather masked by chemicals from the lab but Greg
doesn't care anymore because he's used to it.
Soon, what Nick smells like is the last thing on Greg's mind because
his shirt's on the floor and his mind's miles away, and Nick is
kissing his chest and holding his arms down -- pressing them in the
hard mattress, and his circulation feels like it's being cut off. He
whimpers Nick's name, and he's so glad Nick can read him like an open
book because soon he hears the quiet buzz of zippers being undone,
and Nick breaks away so he can pull his navy t-shirt over his head.
The toys Greg brought seem so uninteresting all of a sudden, because
all Greg wants is Nick licking him again and rolling him over and
fucking him into the mattress.
But Nick is an evil tease and traces lightly down Greg's inner thigh
with one finger instead of giving him what he wants. Greg opens his
eyes and stares down at Nick, but before he can open his mouth to
tell Nick how much of a bastard he is, Nick's licking him *there* and
Greg's head falls back onto the uncomfortable pillow, mouth open and
useless for anything besides murmuring nothingness, and he even finds
the time to think about how maybe forcing Nick to come here wasn't
such a bad idea, and maybe he'll even put off cleaning his apartment
so they'll get to do it again sometime.
His thoughts rocket back to the present when Nick swallows him whole,
and Greg arches into it, rocking his hips subconciously. Nick
stretches an arm across Greg's hips and holds him down, though, but
Greg doesn't mind because right now, Nick could do anything to him
and he'd like it. He's so fargone and his mouth curves up into a smug
little grin when he hears faint moaning and realises it's not coming
from his own lips.
Greg arches again and again, colours flashing in front of his eyes
and he can't think of anything except how incredibly *heavenly*
Nick's tongue feels on his cock and how he wishes this moment could
go on forever and ever and soon he's whimpering like a schoolboy and
clutching at the sheets, but Nick pulls back and Greg collapses,
mumbling obscenities and leaning down to try and bite Nick for being
a bastard for the second time tonight.
Nick drops his pants, however, and Greg idly watches the sweet Dallas
denim pool on the floor before he's distracted once again by Nick,
who climbs onto him and kisses him hard. Greg grinds his crotch up
into Nick's and Nick grabs onto Greg's hip, muttering for him to be
patient. But how can Greg be patient when he's covered in a sexy
Texan blanket who's smothering him in painfully light kisses? He
voices that seemingly reasonable question with a pout, but Nick just
smiles softly and reaches down into his pants for a condom and lube.
Greg's slipping off into that void of nonsensical thoughts again
because he swears the clock says only fifteen minutes have passed
since they got here and how can that be? Then Nick's pressing into
him with a quiet sigh, and Greg forgets all about time as he murmurs
Nick's name over and over in a string laced with cuss words and sweet
forevers. Nick silences him with a kiss and rocks on him, gripping
his hips and Greg knows there'll be Nick-shaped bruises *all* over
his body tomorrow. Nick doesn't seem to care, though, because he's
scratching and nipping and sucking just as much as Greg, and Greg
thinks he must have died because there's no way he can be feeling
this good and still be alive.
Nick rocks and thrusts and Greg runs his hands up and down Nick's
strong arms, making a quiet, constant sound that could probably be
mistaken for purring, and Nick smiles again, but this time it's a
little forced because he's flushed and concentrating and breathing
hard. Greg's head falls back when Nick shifts just ever-so-slightly
and groans softly, and now Greg definitely thinks he's died because
his legs feel like they're on fire and he can hardly breathe because
he's moaning so much as he comes hard, arching a few more times and murmuring Nick's name.
Nick follows soon, after a couple extra thrusts, and he wordlessly
melts over top of Greg, kissing a line up the pale expanse of Greg's
neck. Smooth, sweat-damp chests press together and Greg sighs
contentedly.
Nick pulls out of Greg after a few minutes and tosses the condom in
the general direction of the motel's trash can before pressing
against Greg again and kissing on is earlobe, but all of Greg's
previous spunk has faded into the spent little puddle he is now, but
he manages to mumble incoherently in response to the kissing.
"Love you, G," Nick says quietly in Greg's ear.
"I love *you*..." Greg responds sleepily, and closes his eyes.