Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Author: Sam
Archive: Sure, just let me know where.
Rating: R - innuendo and sexy talk
Pairing: Greg/Nick adding Gil
Feedback: Yeahsureyoubetchya
Warnings: I don't think so, not really. Mention of handcuffs, toys and
feathers.
Disclaimers: I don't own them, never have, never will - and I make no money
off of them.
Authro's Note: Silly, sudden and not beta'd. Read through twice and
spellchecked.
Challenge fic response..."I had the dream again last night."
___________________
A Had A Dream Last Night
"I had the dream again last night..."
Hard to pretend he hadn't a clue to what Nick was talking about.
Impossible not to know. Not when his voice purred low and deep, satisfaction
spoken on *those* words, pitched so the intimate tone carried only for him.
What was the man trying to do anyway? Get them caught? Or just give
Greg one massive stiffie in the middle of CSI labs?
Hard to explain that one away. "No sir, I wasn't pointing at you. No
sir, I'm not having any fun here. Yessir, I do have something planned for
this evening. Do you know her? Ah, welll...not exactly a her...sir?"
No, definitely *not* the best way to spend the last couple hours on shift.
On the other hand, being as this certain lab tech extraordinaire knew
*exactly* what dream the older CSI was talking about - albeit in a very
seductive, wickedly erotic rough and raspy drawl - Greg figured a little
not-so-casual but *very* naughty flirting was a much better way to fill his
time between dna matches and fiber analysis tests.
Eyes downcast, ostensibly 'looking' at whatever it was Nick was
'looking' at, Greg soaked up the heat and presence of the solid wall that
was Nick's chest, taking care to breathe in his scent, allowed by the
clandestine closeness. Deliberately *not* clearing his throat of the
answering roughness, Greg thought he managed a corresponding drawl
low and casual and just as sexy.
"Handcuffs?"
"Uh huh." Nick's smile was smothered in a 'business-like' frown,
studying the 'scope in front of them. "I know how you like them."
Answering smile and low husky purr. "That I do," he nodded. "Feather?"
"Peacock."
"Hmmm. Clamps?"
"On me." Nick edged a little closer, peering down into the eye, his face
in profile, eyes lit by the 'scope's lamp. "And you."
Foreplay at work. God he loved this man. His body tingled, a low jolt
running through his blood at the low voice, casual posture hiding the sultry
tease. He could see them both in his mind's eye - sweaty, hard and aching,
arching in pain and exquisite pleasure; teasing and tormenting each other and
themselves. "Anything else?" Greg prompted.
"Someone else." Nick corrected almost casual; dark, dark eyes flickering
up at him briefly, shining in amusement.
Greg's breath caught in his throat, his own eyes locking with Nick's
before casting about in nervous darts along the open door and glass walls of
his lab domain. Never had Nick's dream included anyone but them; playing,
loving, moaning, rough and tender by turns.
He found the idea not as repulsive as he might have thought.
'Checking' the 'scope himself brought his face even with and all but
touching Nick's before the older man pulled slightly away - giving him
'room' to view the slide sample.
"Someone...interesting?" he asked.
Not letting him off the hook, Stokes hummed softly. "Very."
"Ah." Greg flashed him a grin, sparkle and teeth as Sara walked by.
"Very interesting." Sara gave them look and kept walking; she was working
with Warrick tonight, not Nick, so whatever it was Greg had found didn't interest
*her*.
"Interesting enough to check it out, maybe..." The Texan inquired, not
quite willing to commit if his partner wasn't. He could have been talking
about a case, if not for the faint hum of...something...in the question.
Sanders looked him over, noting the slightly shallow breathing, the
heightened color in his cheeks; knowing by the hint of shyness in the hopeful
tone the question already had one answer. "Possibly," he admitted. "Top?"
"In the dream...bottom."
The wolfish grin tagged one a little slower, but no less anticipatory in
his lover. "Toys?"
A groan and Nick darted his own glace toward the hallways where other
techs, cops and CSI's were going about their normal business. "God yes."
"You?"
"Yeah." Almost a whimper; wanting and already keyed up to a low buzz.
"Annnd..."
"Him."
"Mmmm...Who?"
"Gil."
Satisfied smile. He thought so.
"Yeah." Nick wasn't surprised Greg knew about his thing for the boss.
So..."
Turning back to his readouts as a beep sounded, Greg was all business,
handing Nick his printout results as Grissom walked by, stopping at Greg's
door with an expression of inquiring curiosity. "I think this is what you were
looking for," the tech nodded. And then, "I'll set everything else up just
as soon as I deal with Grissom here."
Shivering a little at the innuendo, Nick nodded at his lover with a
"thanks, Greg - Griss", and surrendered the lab, making sure to brush by the
boss's arm as he did so.
"So, what can I do you for, bossman?" was the last thing he heard as he
rounded the corner, smiling.