Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Author: Dr FooFoo
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: FRM
Archive: Go right ahead.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: I have this problem with run-on sentences...
Author's notes: Okay, so this fic isn't *new*, but cass742003 asked
for Nick/Greg fics and I don't think I've posted this here yet. Feel
free to beat me if I have.
Summary: Sometimes Nick just needs to unwiiind.
---
There are some days that Nick loves his job. Those are usually the
days when the case is quick and easy to wrap up, and justice is
served. Days like those make all the hard times and the loneliness
worth it. Except Nick's not so sure of that, because there are other
days, more often than the good days, that are horrible and tragic,
and Nick doesn't know how he keeps from breaking down in the middle of the lab most of the time.
Of course, everyone else feels it, too, and everyone's affected by
the stuff they all deal with on a daily basis. All the death and
tears. How Brass manages to pass on the terrible news to so many
people is still beyond Nick, and often, he's reminded of why he
switched from the police department to the crime lab. At least there
are less living people to deal with in his line of work.
Then again, Nick's always kind of been a people person. He's
sensitive to other people's feelings -- or he'd like to think so.
More so than Sara or Grissom, for instance. He'd even go so far as to
say he likes people, when they're alive. He needs them to stay sane.
And maybe it's that need that drives him to The Tangerine tonight,
because hey, the place is *packed* with people. Living, breathing,
sweating, dancing people. And that's all Nick needs.
He probably wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he has to escape every
so often, and the nightlife may not be the most obvious approach, but
it's the road he likes to travel. He figures dancing until he can't
feel his feet anymore, and ending up at a random trick's apartment is
a much better decision than doing something stupid like getting
addicted to some substance. Besides, the lab does routine drug tests
on all its employees and they don't exactly pass out a survey asking
about sexual orientation, so Nick figures his way is the safe way.
Then again, maybe it's not so safe, because as he's leaning by a door
sipping a Budweiser, he spots a familiar shock of brown and blond in
the crowd. It's only for a second but before he knows what he's
doing, Nick's moving forward into the writhing mass of bodies on the
dance floor. He soon catches up with the hair and stares without a
sound.
The guy in front of him is dancing with himself, but he could have
fooled anyone, grinding against the air and twirling his hands above
his head. When he finally spins around, Nick sucks in a breath as his
suspicions are confirmed.
"Sanders?" he yells over the thumping music, and Greg opens his eyes.
Without missing a beat, a slow smirk spreads over his face as he
continues to sway in front of Nick. He's so damn sensual in
everything he does and Nick can't help but let his eyes travel over
every inch of Greg's body. Greg smiles again in response and Nick
feels the old Texan blush spread up into his ears, and he hates that
he's so predictable.
"Didn't expect to see *you* here..." Greg says and Nick practically
has to lean in and read his lips to understand what he's saying. Greg
leans forward, too, and Nick feels like his cheeks are going to burst
into flames any second, so he pulls back quickly. Greg seems to take
that as an invitation, however, because he takes a step forward and
reaches his arms up around Nick's neck, pulling his face in and
resting his forehead against Nick's.
All Nick can do is stare at Greg's big, brown eyes, because that's
all that's visible, and he definitely never thought he'd ever be
seeing Greg from this angle. Not that he's never thought about it,
because he has, though he'd absolutely never admit that. In fact,
Greg's the reason Nick doesn't lose it on those hard days. Greg's
always happy -- or he seems like it anyway -- and he's contagious. So
contagious, in fact, that Nick's lately started to make excuses to go
into the DNA lab as often as possible.
Warrick's called him on it a couple times and he can't miss those
questioning looks from Sara, but he always rationalizes, saying he
forgot his glasses, or he needs to pick up an old sample. Greg
doesn't seem to mind the constant visits, though, and maybe he even
welcomes them, because he's grinding slow circles against Nick's
crotch and Nick's eyes flutter closed. He gives in eventually and
lets his hands find their way up Greg's back. Greg leans into the
touch and Nick thinks he's going to pass out.
He certainly *never* expected this to happen, and it doesn't help
that people have moved in around them, pressing close and Nick lets
himself move with the entrancing flow of the mob. Greg leans into
him, resting his head on Nick's shoulder, and wraps his arms around
Nick's waist. Nick has a sudden flash of awkward conversations at
work tomorrow, and strange looks from his coworkers, and he even
takes a second to try and tell himself to just stop dancing and leave
the club, but then Greg shifts slightly, hard-on against Nick's thigh
apparent through two pairs of jeans, and he knows he can't stop now.
The song picks up its pace and Greg pulls back for a second, eyeing
Nick with a strange, dark expression, and Nick's breath catches in
his throat. He knows what Greg wants, but the break room image
flashes back into his mind and he hesitates a second, trying to get
his thoughts in order. Greg seizes the opportunity and grabs Nick's
hand, glancing quickly at him before stepping away and weaving him
through bodies and off the dance floor.
Nick doesn't have time to think before Greg's hailed a cab, and he
can't feel himself moving, but he must be, because the taxi ride's a
blur of anxious, sloppy kisses, and light, tentative touches.
Nick has no idea how it happened, but soon, he finds himself shifting
impatiently outside Greg's apartment, watching him fumbling with
keys, and he doesn't really mean to, but his hands run strange
patterns along Greg's back, and when they slip under his shirt, the
door finally opens and they tumble through. Immediately, Greg turns
around and presses himself to Nick, merging lips and giving in to
curious hands. Nick shivers and he can't keep his eyes open, but he
doesn't really care because he doesn't need to see to know what Greg
has in mind.
And soon, all suspicions are confirmed when Greg sinks to his knees
in front of Nick, running his fingers along sexlines, and god, Nick
didn't even know his waist was so erogenous. Greg knew, though, which should probably worry Nick more than it does. He doesn't have time to think about how many people Greg's slept with, though, because in a couple moments, Greg's gotten Nick's jeans worked open and his boxer-briefs are at his knees.
Nick will admit that he's spent a lot of time watching Greg; staring,
even, at his entire body, especially his mouth. But if he'd known how
good those lips would feel all over his overheated skin, and finally,
*finally* on his cock, he would have asked for this a long time ago.
Fingers tangle in short, spiky hair as hands clutch at every
available body part; Nick's hands on the back of Greg's head, and
Greg's hands all over Nick's stomach and thighs... Nick's surprised
his legs haven't given out yet, and he's tempted to suggest they move
to a horizontal surface, but he just can't bring himself to ask Greg
to stop.
Greg can probably sense Nick's desperation, because he's working his
tongue like it's going out of style and Nick has to let go of Greg's
hair to grip the doorknob so he doesn't melt down the wall. He gasps
a string of Greg-related words that probably don't make sense, but
he's beyond caring, because long before he's ready, he's arching off
the wall and coming hard without warning.
Greg pulls back and stands up, swallowing and wiping his mouth on his
sleeve with a smirk.
It takes Nick a few minutes to come to, but when he does, his knees
are weak and his vision's blurry. Greg takes his hand and pulls him
down the hall in a way reminiscent of the nightclub, but Nick's not
complaining. Well, he's not doing much of anything except following
and trying not to trip over his own pants. They pass a large fish
tank and Nick's never seen so many bright colours at once, except
maybe on one of Greg's t-shirts, and he'll have to ask if that's
where Greg gets his inspiration for style.
He laughs a little at that thought, but Greg leans in and kisses him
hard and they're in the bedroom suddenly. Nick never would have
guessed Greg as a dark blue kind of guy... maybe bright yellow or
orange, or even green, but as much as he'd like to wonder about
Greg's decorating skills, he's very distracting and Nick finds
himself pushing Greg backwards onto the bed, which is just a mattress
on a springboard. That, Nick could have guessed.
Greg's more aggressive in bed than Nick would have imagined, and just
a hint of desperate, but Nick kind of likes it, because he's used to
being completely in control, and it's somewhat of a nice change. Nick
grinds his hips in a small circle and breathes hard against Greg's
neck, mumbling something about the overabundance of clothes still on
them both. It's all quiet and nonsensical, but Greg must understand,
though, because he undoes his jeans expertly and arches up into Nick
to get them down to his ankles, while Nick pushes up on his shirt.
Greg doesn't seem to want to be completely naked, however, so Nick
compromises by settling himself between Greg's legs and running his
hands wherever they can reach. Greg's skin is addictive; Nick can't
get enough of touching him, and he definitely knows that tomorrow,
work's going to be *torture*, but he's way too far gone to care, and
Greg's moaning softly and staring up at Nick with huge, dark eyes
under long lashes, and...
God.
Then Nick feels hands on his back and ass and they trail lines around
to his crotch. Nick feels the cold plastic wrapper before he hears
Greg ripping it open, and before he knows what's happening, Greg's
sheathed him in a condom and he's pressing inside with a low moan.
Greg arches up under him and he's running his hands along Nick's back
again, and Nick's still way back at the condom part and wondering if
maybe he's died and gone to heaven, because that's certainly what it
feels like. But he doesn't have much time to think about it, because
Greg starts moving, hooking his legs around Nick's hips and pulling
him deeper.
Nick arches and his eyes roll to the back of his head when Greg
scratches light red lines across his shoulder blades. He can't keep
his mouth closed and sex with Greg is apparently the only thing that
makes him completely unaware of what he's saying, because he's almost positive he's muttering admissions of love, but he can't be sure.
Greg's smirking slightly, though, if that's any indication, and Nick
leans down to cover that smirk with his own lips. Nick's never been
kissed the way Greg kisses him -- all tongue and lips and clash of
teeth -- and he doesn't think he'll ever be able to kiss anyone else
without thinking of this.
Greg's arms tighten around Nick when he shifts slightly and he breaks
away from the hail of kisses to take a shaky breath and let out a
long, quiet moan. Nick's still not thinking straight as he leans down
and sucks a mark high on Greg's neck. If he thinks about it later,
he'll probably remember that Greg will most definitely show it off at
the lab and that'll get a few stares, but for now, Nick's more than
content with thrusting and gripping and leaving finger-shaped bruises
all over Greg's body where no one will see.
Quite suddenly, Greg writhes and arches under Nick, holding him close
with one arm and Nick's not sure where his other hand went, but when
he feels warm wetness against his stomach, he guesses pretty quickly,
and moans loudly into Greg's neck. But Greg's not finished until
Nick's finished, and stars flash in front of Nick's eyes when Greg
speeds up his rocking, whimpering every time he meets Nick's thrusts.
It's not long before Nick's babbling again, fingernails digging into
Greg's hips, and he's not sure, but he might be mumbling Greg's name
over and over as he comes for the second time tonight, just as hard
as the first time, and god, he thought he was too old for this, but
apparently not. He pulls out of Greg and rolls over onto the mattress
next to him, panting quickly and fighting to catch his breath. He
subconsciously feels Greg peeling the condom off him and leaving the
bed, but in a couple of minutes, the mattress sinks again and Nick's
still out of breath.
Greg presses himself to Nick, curling slightly and propping himself
up on one elbow, and Nick cracks his eyes open slightly to peer up at
him. No one says anything for a long time, and Nick almost closes his
eyes again to just listen to the sound of Greg breathing, but he
knows he'll probably fall asleep if he does that, and he's not sure
Greg would like that...
"Love's just an excuse to get hurt, Nick..." Greg says softly and
almost with a hint of remorse, and where did that come from? Then
Nick remembers his babbling and his ears redden suddenly, but he
knows what *he* wants and he doesn't even hesitate before leaning in
to breathe on Greg's neck and murmur into his skin.
"Then... hurt me."