Title: And the Night Before Christmas
By: Read 300300
A/N: Written for Downloadable08. I finished it before Christmas, but this is the first chance I've had to post.
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: BDSM
Summary: Nick and Greg meet under slightly different circumstances. Can they be more than a one-night stand gone wrong?

Greg tossed back his second drink, feeling the heady rush of his first shot of tequila only begin to take effect. He slammed the glass back down onto the table, liking the hard, clunky thud that it made at the moment of contact. He rolled his head around once to loosen up all of the tight, work-related stress muscles before turning his eye to the dance floor. It wasn’t very crowded tonight, being this close to Christmas and all, but as he looked looking around, he could still see a few people who were throwing looks his way.

It was always like this, he well knew. Some saw him as a bit of an easy target, once he had a few drinks in him, and others just seemed to want to try for a one-night stand, no matter how much he had or had not drunk. It had been the exact same way in college, and he’d had to knock the crap out of more than one drunken frat-boy who wanted to go for a little too much. Nowadays, he tended to only go out to clubs with some of his friends on weekends, and that was just for the loud music and the energy he felt resonating throughout the dancing crowds.

He’d been coming to clubs for a long time, nearly eight years. Greg loved the music; after all, it was the only place where music could be played this loudly and not be considered in violation of noise laws. Hell, even after he’d gotten the walls in his apartment soundproofed, his neighbors still complained.

He may have loved the music, but the dating prospects were another matter entirely. Rarely had he ever found someone he stayed with for more than a few weeks at one of these places, but that was what clubs were for, after all, especially ones like this. He’d chosen this club for a reason: it was one of the more popular clubs that was only frequented by tourists who were looking for a good time and not much else. And he- well, he was looking for a good time too. It had been nearly two years since he’d gotten any action whatsoever and even if he didn’t particularly feel like going for a rough, quick grope in the corner of a place like this, his body still had needs.

“Mind if I get you another one?” A voice asked from behind him, a voice with a thick Texas drawl.

Greg turned slightly, sizing up the man behind him. Well, whoever he was, he was hotter than hell with his crisp black turtleneck and dark black jeans that clung to his legs in a way that was nearly obscene. Greg liked obscene. Liked it very much!

“Sure,” Greg nodded, all the while knowing that he probably wasn’t going to touch the third drink unless his gut told him that he was safe with the older man later. That was a big part of the way that he kept himself safe from idiots; in his short time as a lab tech in Las Vegas, he’d seen enough bodies and processed enough evidence from people who had gotten too drunk and then ended up on the side of a road in a ditch somewhere. Plus, in case the night was a bust, he didn’t want to have to be woken up by a ticked off cab driver when he fell asleep in the back of the car before saying where he wanted to be dropped off. However, if the night looked like it was going well…

He turned to the guy who moved to sit next to him at the bar, taking in even more of his features in the dim light. This man had dark, deep brown eyes and short hair that looked nearly black in the almost nonexistent light of the club. His arms were muscled, his abs a nearly perfect six-pack if what Greg saw through the tight turtleneck was correct, and his hands were large and slightly calloused.

“Nice to meet you…” The older man trailed off, obviously intending it to be an inquiry for Greg’s name.

“Greg. And you are?”

“Nick. Nick Stokes,” the Texan answered; the drawl was still present. He turned to the bartender, “I’ll take two of whatever he’s having.”

The guy nodded before walking back to the end of the bar to fill their orders.

“It’s tequila, by the way.” Greg informed him.

Nick cracked a grin. “That’s a very popular one where I come from.”

“Texas? Or Louisiana?” Greg asked, wondering where the older man was going with the small talk.

“Texas- Dallas, more specifically- and my parents would probably die if they knew someone thought I was from Louisiana.” He shook his head. “The accents are completely different.”

Greg chuckled, taking his new glass from the bartender and barely sipping on it before setting it down. “Really?”

“Yeah, actually. People from Louisiana tend to say things like ‘alchyhol.’” Nick rolled his eyes as he said it.

“And people from Dallas don’t?”

“Nope- there it’s more like ‘alkerhol.’” The older man winked and took a large gulp of his drink.

Greg shook his head as he laughed, a back part of his mind thinking it was too bad that Nick was just a tourist. He seemed to have a sense of humor, at least.

A few seconds passed in amiable silence as both men just listened to the music, an odd combination of techno and semi-rock.

“So, Cowboy, wanna dance?” Greg looked out at the floor, figuring that he might as well be out there if he was going to be at a club.

“Sure,” Nick took another sip of the tequila before setting it down as well, and, after dropping a few bills on the bar, he followed the younger man out the dark floor. In his opinion, Greg looked amazing. His leather jacket covered a translucent white tee-shirt that just barely hinted at what was beneath, and he was already starting to move in time with the music, his hands migrating slowly until they were above his head and he was swaying with the music.

The deep beat seemed to guide all of Greg’s movements; his hips swung and his hands moved, turning his body into a sensuous, continuously changing set of hard planes and soft folds of fabric. Seeing that beautiful flesh fluidly rock in time with the music and having his senses overwhelmed by the taste and smell of tequila, the blaring beat, and the feel of electricity in the air- it was nearly too much for him. All at once, he was aware of how perfect the moment was; he had a vague sense of understanding something bigger, something larger than he could ever be. There would never be another second like this.

All that was left for Nick to do was to join in, which he happily did. Nick wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. He moved his body in time with Greg’s, allowing their bodies to become closer and closer as the music pounded their ears and the other patron’s loud voices became intertwined. Eventually, he could feel Greg’s hot breath ghosting over him, and then Greg’s body was plastered to his, moving them both in sync with the rapid rhythm as the crowd pressed in on them.

Nick couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever felt this good; it certainly hadn’t been since he’d moved to Las Vegas a few weeks ago. He let himself forget about all of that now as he moved, every once and a while taking Greg back to the bar for another drink, looking on with approval when the other man switched to a Cherry Royale, a drink with a much smaller alcohol content. Really, Nick could never understand people that got drunk every time they had the chance; however, that was in no way to say that he had never been tanked. In fact, he didn’t remember most of his freshman year in college, that’s how bad it had gotten, and his grades had certainly reflected the idiocy of those first two semesters. But somehow, seeing those who had continued in that path and his time with the police force had definitely changed him. Sure, he loved a couple of drinks every now and again, but he could count the number of times on one hand that he had passed out from too much alcohol in the past ten years. The number of times he had passed out from… other activities, he had to admit, was much higher.

Nick was very much reminded of how much he wanted to participate in some of those ‘other activities’ with Greg when the younger man turned back to give him that look, the one that spoke of attraction and need; the undercurrent of electricity had turned into nearly violent sparkage what with the hour and a half of what Nick considered to be some of the best foreplay he’d ever experienced. Watching Greg dance was better than most of the pornos he’d seen. And he couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but there was something real, something vital in him- something that Nick knew would shine even in a place that wasn’t filled with strobe lights and loud music.

It was something that Nick wanted to experience. He wanted to feel how that intensity he could see in Greg would carry over into the bedroom, and the saucy looks that were being sent his way were not helping.

“Want to get out of here?” Greg eventually leaned over and shouted to him over the music.

“Sure, why not?” Nick checked to make sure that he had remembered to put his wallet back into his pocket and wasn’t going to leave it at the bar before he followed Greg out of the club, pushing his way through the throngs of people that were crowding the floor.

He walked out of the double-doors and nodded to the bouncer, whom he had met back in Dallas a few years ago. Looking around, he saw Greg standing a few feet away; he moved towards the man, using his hands to question whether they were waiting for a cab or if Greg had driven himself. He saw Greg nod towards the street.

“So where are we going to go?” Nick asked, noting that the wind-chill made Vegas seem even colder than it was; when he had come here, he’d been expecting the hot temperatures that the deserts were famed for. What he’d gotten, however, was a city that could get down to as low as twenty degrees during the winter nights.

“We could go back to your hotel. Maybe watch a movie,” Greg replied, having absolutely no intention whatsoever of watching a movie. He could feel the rush of the alcohol zinging through his system, giving him a slightly buzzed feeling. He knew as soon as that last drink kicked in, he’d probably feel a little bit more than buzzed, but it wouldn’t be too bad. The older man didn’t even seem to be affected by the alcohol that he’d imbibed, though Greg had seen him finish at least three glasses of tequila.

For some reason, he had trusted Nick even before he’d seen the Dallas PD identification card in the older man’s wallet a few minutes ago when he had gone to pay for the last round of drinks. It could have been the down-on-the-ranch Texas charm that filled the air around him or the fact that he could see a child Nick helping old ladies cross the road, Boy Scout or not. Whatever it was, he knew that he trusted that Nick wouldn’t do something incredibly stupid.

“Back to the hotel? If you want to,” Nick left the choice up to Greg, not pushing even though he knew that he definitely wanted to just push the younger man against a wall and-

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a cab, and Greg playfully shoved him towards the door.

Nick noticed a slight stumble in the man’s step as he moved closer to the bright yellow taxi, and his suspicions were confirmed when Greg lost his balance a little bit and fell against him while climbing into the car.

Great! Now he had to deal with the morals of bringing a very hot, very mentally impaired man into his bed.

Nick helped Greg out of the car and over towards the elevator, trying to ignore the way that the younger man’s hands just happened to skim under his shirt and leave warm trails of sensation on the smooth skin of his stomach. He also pretended that Greg hadn’t tried to stick his hands down his black jeans mere seconds ago in the backseat of the cab.

“Greg-” He wanted to add on a ‘Stop touching me,’ but he knew that it would only attract attention to them in the crowded lobby of the hotel. Plus, it would be kind of odd, as he was the one having to help Greg over to the elevator. Thankfully, one of the bellhops noticed the trouble and came over to help, aiding Nick in getting the younger man into the elevator and into Nick’s room a few moments later.

Taking a deep breath, he thought that if he had to hear Greg remark one more time about how he wasn’t drunk when he so obviously was, he might just give in and let the man do what he so obviously wanted, if only to shut him up. Nick was, by nature, a patient man, but he was no saint.

The Texan tipped the bellhop, muttering something about how he shouldn’t let his ‘brother’ drink so much- for posterity purposes only. There was no way he wanted the bemused bellhop to call the cops and report Nick as some kind of pervert.

After the man who was bedecked in an ugly mauve suit left and shut the door behind him, Nick faced the task of putting Greg to bed, something that he wanted no part of. Surely enough, the second that he came in contact with the young man, those hands were starting to fumble with the hem of his black turtleneck, trying to pull it up and off of Nick.

Rolling his eyes, he slapped Greg’s hand away. Sure, he wanted more than anything to give in to the spiky-haired man’s advances, but he had seen too many cases in his time as a police officer in Dallas where girls had gotten drunk and ended up being taken advantaged of. He was not going to be responsible for doing that to anyone, no matter how hot they were or how much they seemed to want it.

The hands were back again, somehow making their way underneath the soft fabric to caress the hard abs.

“Come on, Nicky, you know you want me spread out on that bed over there. Hmm? Wanna?” Greg placed a sloppy kiss on Nick’s neck. “Soon as I saw you, I wondered what it would be like to fuck you. Or you to fuck me. Either way, we’re both happy.”

“No, Greg.” It was a simple statement, but Greg couldn’t seem to take the hint.

“What? Am I being a bad boy? You could always just handcuff me to the bed and spank me. Would that teach me, do you think?”

“Greg, nothing would teach you, I think.” Nick sighed, wondering what to do next. Pushing the man towards the bed would give him the wrong idea, but so would not doing anything.

Nick compromised, pushing Greg away from him and telling him to go over to the bed.

“Oh, getting all authoritative, are we? I like that.” Greg licked his lips.

“I’ll bet you do.” Nick was struck with inspiration. “Greg, why don’t you go lie down on the bed? I’ll be back in a second; I just need to go grab something.”

He waited until he was certain that Greg was following orders; then, he hurriedly grabbed a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and some Tylenol from one of his bags.

After moving back to the bed, Nick ordered Greg to take the medicine, hoping that it would at least ease the headache he might have the next day.

“Come on, now we can fuck. I want you so badly, and I know you want me. Everyone wants me, always have. Hell, even when I was little, people wanted me. One time when I was twelve, my friend and I were in his backyard, and he-” Greg’s eyes grew wide when Nick put a hand over his mouth.

“I don’t think you really want to be telling me this.”

“No, I’d much rather be telling you about all the dirty things I’m going to do to you,” he was persistent, determined to have his way with the older man.

Unfortunately, Nick was more persistent, as well as being much more able to retain consciousness in the face of alcohol. Within minutes of lying down on the bed, Greg had passed out.

And when he awoke the next morning, Nick was gone, having tactfully decided that it would be embarrassing enough to remember the night before without having someone who saw you acting like an idiot there to remind you.

Problem was that he didn’t remember much about that night; all that he had left was a somewhat vague memory of everything that had happened after they had ended up at the hotel and a piece of paper with Nick’s phone number on it.

On the way out of hotel, Greg threw away the piece of paper; what was the point in getting involved with someone who probably wouldn’t be in Vegas for more than a few days?

Gil walked into his lab, and the first thought that ran through Greg’s mind was that he hoped Grissom didn’t realize that he had a persisting hangover. He would be so screwed if the man-

Any other thoughts he could have had flew out one of the large, clear windows near him when he saw the man who walked in behind Grissom.

Their eyes locked, and Greg knew that his must have been bugging out of his head. There was no way that this could be happening.

“Nick, this is Greg Sanders. Sanders, this is Nick; he’s a new CSI,” the older man turned back towards the Texan as he spoke. “Sanders will help process the evidence you bring in. If you need any help with any of the lab equipment, should you need to use it yourself, you can ask him. Now, over to the left…”

Grissom’s voice trailed off as he left the room. Nick spared him another shocked glance before walking out quickly so that he wouldn’t have to run after the eldest man.

It was only when he realized that the very loud beeping sound filling the room was the alert that one of the machines was finished with the time-sensitive evidence that he shook himself out of his shock and returned to his job.

Hopefully, if he were lucky enough, they would never bring up the subject of that night in the club. Greg wasn’t really sure how he could explain it; he had drunk more than he was planning on and then he’d made a fool of himself. A very, very big fool of himself, and now Nick would think that he was a freak.

A very, very big freak.

Sadly enough, he hadn’t been drunk enough to forget that night. Maybe he should have drunk more, he reasoned. Then, he would have just passed out instead of revealing all of those embarrassing things.

And now Nick worked with him! He was in so much trouble if the man decided that he didn’t like Greg.

Greg groaned and slapped himself on the forehead, shaking his head as he went to try and finish the rest of the shift.

Nick took a deep breath as he waited to see whether or not Greg would actually come by his new apartment. He had just moved in two days beforehand, and already he was starting to feel rather lonely.

The younger man had been nothing but professional with him ever since they had been ‘formally’ introduced, and, frankly, Nick was getting a tad bit sick of it. It was obvious that the two of them got along together well, and – from what he had occasionally noticed in the lab, not that it would have been easy to miss- Greg was still very much attracted to him. Either that, or maybe Greg was just turned on by the sight of latex gloves. Somehow, Nick didn’t think that was the case. He was just tired of always seeing someone that he knew he would do very well with in relationship, but then have them refuse for some stupid, childish reason. In this case, it would have to have been Greg’s pride.

And sure, maybe it was a little bit stupid to invite him over for dinner on Christmas Eve, but it wasn’t as if Nick had any one to share it with in Vegas. He didn’t know if Greg had made plans or not, but the younger man hadn’t objected.

Then again, he was supposed to have arrived nearly thirty minutes ago.

Nick sighed and changed the channel on the TV again, damning all of the Christmas specials to hell. If he had to see another interpretation of how Santa decided to give gifts to little kids during the winter, he thought he might scream. Sure, the movies were cute, but he was used to watching them with his nieces and nephews. He was starting to really miss his family.

Thinking back to all of the Christmases spent with family back in Texas was enough to make him wonder what he was really thinking- being here in Nevada and everything. Sure, it was great for his career to be working in the second best lab in the country, but, really, he could see nothing to keep him here yet.

Startled out of his reverie, he stood quickly and walked over to the large white front door when he heard someone knock, hoping beyond hope that it was Greg. Opening the door, he was pleased to see that it was the young lab tech. His face was slightly flushed, and he looked as though he’d been exerting himself. Nick couldn’t help but wonder if Greg’s face would flush like that when he was just reaching orgasm. He’d put five dollars down that the younger man would.

He didn’t let any of his thoughts show on his face as he invited the younger man in, telling him to help himself to whatever food he wanted. The older man had spent the morning cooking an outrageous amount of food, going so far as to fry a turkey, bake bread and some pies from the family recipes, and then make his own jalapeño cornbread stuffing. He couldn’t help going overboard; it was family tradition to make enough food to eat for the next two weeks after the holiday. Greg did as he was told, filling a plate and exclaiming that he was starving.

Nick noticed that he opted for a canned coke instead of wine, but he didn’t say anything.

He moved over towards the table, sitting down as well after heaping large portions of everything on his plate. Setting his plate down gently, he hastily prayed in silence. After ending with a soft “Amen,” he picked up his fork and dug in, silently communicating for Greg to go ahead and begin eating as well with a small gesture of his hand.

“So, how have you been?” He asked conversationally.

“I’ve been doing pretty well,” Greg’s voice was slightly strained, something that Nick noticed and decided to try to fix.

“Look, about that night- it’s not a big deal. You got drunk and you said some things. Everyone gets drunk and says things,” the Texan laughed. “You aren’t the only one who’s ever been blind-sided by one too many tequilas. Trust me on that one. In fact, there was this one time where my older brother got drunk, and we managed to get him inside Mom’s house and into his bed without them realizing it. Of course, he had to ruin it by opening his big mouth in the middle of the night. He stormed through the house half-naked, singing ‘I’m so drunk’ at the top of his lungs.”

“Sounds like this roommate of mine I had back in college. Man, would he drink!” Greg snorted as he remembered those times. “I can’t tell you how many times I would get a call in the middle of the night from the cops saying that he was in for DUI and all of the stupid stuff he did while drunk. The craziest time was when he was acting like an idiot and mixed DXM with Bacardi and ended up at a meeting for protesting the Klan with some friends dressed as Madonna. Trust me; nobody went home happy that night.”

“Wow!”

“It didn’t get weird until he tried to hit on one of the officers who was sent out to break up the protest.”

Nick winced. “Ouch, that could have gotten pretty bad really quickly.”

“Nah, he’d grown up having the officer as a family friend and so the guy wasn’t about to punch him for that kind of stuff.” He put a large forkful of dressing in his mouth before he continued. “Besides, he knew that my roommate already had someone and wasn’t really being serious. It was just the alcohol talking. Hey, weren’t you an officer before, in Dallas, I mean?”

He nodded, “Yeah, for a few years. I left because, well- it was interesting, and I loved it. Don’t get me wrong on that. Helping to catch the perps is something that I’ve always wanted to do. It just didn’t seem to be the best way to do it, for me at least. Working to make sure that enough evidence is collected to convict seemed… more right, somehow. Too many of them get away for my taste.”

Shrugging, Nick turned back to his food, glad to see that Greg had loosened up and seemed to be enjoying their conversation now.

Nick picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. "Hey, Greg, the thing is that- well, I mean, I still want to see where this could go, if you want to."

Greg stared at his food, poking it with the end of his fork. He wanted to see where what could go? Wasn't this supposed to be a fling? A one-night stand? Nick obviously did not understand the rules of picking someone up at a bar. Even if something seemed to spark between them, it was only temporary ... right?

"I mean, I think we could be good together, and-" Nick continued, having obviously rehearsed this in his head.

Greg shook his head. "This was just supposed to a little bit of stress relief. You know, get a nice piece of ass at a club and then pretend it never happened."

Nick's fork dropped onto his plate with a clatter as his jaw fell slack.

"Wh-What?"

Had Greg truly just said that? The words rang through Nick's ears over and over again as if a record somewhere in the back of his mind suddenly skipped with his sudden jolt.

Greg didn't bother looking up, continuing to stare at this food, though placing his fork beside the plate and clasping his hands beneath his chin.

"I never said I was proud of it." He shrugged. “Besides, I thought you were a tourist, and there can’t ever really be a true relationship with someone who isn’t going to hang around.”

"Do you do this oft- I mean, not that it's any of my business or anything. I just thought, well, I don't know. I didn't really think that you just wanted it to be a one night thing. If I'd known, I'd have...." He trailed off, not really certain what he had been going to say, just knowing that he had to justify his actions in some way.

"Listened to me when I told you to throw me down and take me?"

"You never said that!" Nick winced, avoiding the question.

Both men were silent for a moment, neither wanting to speak for fear of saying something regrettable. Nick sighed, running his fingers through his hair and attempting to gouge his eyes out with the heels of his palms.

"Fine."

The word was sudden, final, barely audible, and yet as Nick stood, his chair noisily scooting back behind him, Greg jumped.

"Fine. This is what you want . . . and if this is all I'm going to get, so be it." Even as he was saying the words, Nick began to unbutton his shirt, his fingers moving fiercely from one button to the next.

"Nick?" Greg asked in confusion.

"Come on, just like you wanted. A one night stand and we're through." Nick moved around the table and grabbed Greg's arm, pulling him up before pushing him back against the wall and using his hands to swiftly begin unbuttoning Greg's jeans.

"Nick! Nick, stop!" Greg tried to move away, not really understanding why his brain had suddenly decided to revolt at something that he would have given anything for three days ago.

"Isn't this what you want?"

"No ... I mean, well, it was, but ..." Greg could find no words to express the thoughts flooding his mind. Nick was giving him everything he wanted ... everything he thought he wanted.

"What do you want now?" He asked, leaving unspoken the fear that even if Greg did want a relationship, he could change his mind at any time. He truthfully had no idea of what kind of man Greg would be in a relationship. He'd only met him a few days ago, but he already knew that he at least wanted to try for something more.

"I don't want to wake up alone again, like I did that morning after we met." The spiky-haired man finally found the words to begin to describe what he wanted. "I want to be able to talk with you and joke around. I want to be able to go to the movies and talk about how crappy some of the actors are. I want to finish what we started and then come back for more."

Nick smirked, backing off of the younger man somewhat until he relaxed.

"Yeah?"

Greg stared for a moment, suspicion lacing his eyes as he quietly contemplated what Nick meant by that simple, single-syllable word.

'Yeah,' he would like all of what he just said. 'Yeah,' he would want someone to wake up to each morning instead of having to find an empty bed and cold sheets. 'Yeah,' he wanted the kind of relationship that Nick had been trying to show him all along.

"Did anyone ever tell you that you were brilliant?" The corner of the young man’s mouth quirked upwards and he reached out to finish unbuttoning Nick's shirt, revealing hard planes of burnished skin that sent very tantalizing mental images to his brain, which in turn sent increased amounts of blood to his partially aroused cock.

Nick, being close enough to sense this, smiled, placing his hands on Greg's hips and shoving his own into the other man's. Greg moaned slightly, his grip on Nick's shirt tightening as his knees shook and a gasp was inhaled quickly past his wet, luscious lips.

"Hmmm, let's see... Cock sucker, yes. Brilliant, no." He laughed, knowing the effect that the teasing movement of his hips was having on the other man.

"Hmmm, would you?" The words came out a tad dreamily as Greg slid his hands up Nick's sides, loving the way that the hard muscle refused to give way under his hands.
"Your wish is my command," Nick breathed with an airy laugh.

Greg shivered as the man's lips ghosted along his neck, Nick's skilled fingers travelling up his sides and bringing his shirt up and over his head. Just as the shirt uncovered his mouth, however, Nick stopped. He left Greg's arms stretched high above his head, his eyesight blocked completely.

Ignoring Greg's questions, the older man swiftly unbuckled Greg's belt and pulled it out from the belt loops that held it in place. Within seconds, he had fastened it around Greg's hands, binding him so that he couldn't move his hands. Thus, he could not remove the shirt from where it was situated, blocking his vision.

Greg stood still in shocked silence, not really comprehending what was happening. Just how much had he told Nick that night?

"If you want me to take it off, Greg, just tell me, and I will," Nick murmured before moving to his knees.

Greg's jaw quivered, his mind ping-ponging the idea back and forth. Did he really want it like this? As Nick began to unbutton his jeans, his breaths became shallow, his abdomen heaving in and out as the older man gently ran his lips over the hardened and shaking muscles beneath.

Sensing his unease, Nick looked up.

"Greg?" He questioned, wondering if the other man was comfortable or not. "I can stop. Just say it."

Greg swallowed hard, shaking his head with a jerking motion.

"Okay, baby, here we go. You ready?" Nick didn't even wait for an answer before his teasing began. It was his way of getting revenge for all of the frustration he had felt that night they had met, when Greg was all over him and he couldn't let himself accept what was being offered. He licked lightly at Greg's thighs while his hands reached around to hold the young man's ass to keep him in place. Moving upwards ever so slightly, he tongued one of the creases where the long leg met torso, changing patterns every few seconds to keep Greg guessing. After debating momentarily, he decided to go with his gut instincts; quickly, he bit down lightly into the pale flesh, his hands still grounding the other man as he jerked and moaned.

"N-Nick?" Greg's harsh whisper came hesitantly as he arced under the older man's touch, leaning back against the wall for support and twisting his wrists against the strong leather belt.

Nick's tongue continued to move, continuing its slow and steady tease towards the hard and still hardening cock rubbing against his cheek. Wanting to keep Greg in just a little more suspense, Nick's tongue moved upward, sliding smoothly over the soft, warm plane of his stomach and up his chest to a swollen nipple.

Not entirely sure how much pain Greg wanted, if he wanted any at all, Nick nearly forwent biting into the soft bud. That was all thrown to hell when a soft 'Please' tumbled from Greg's lips; Nick was amazed at how quickly the spiky-haired man's breath turned into sobs once he complied and took the flesh between his teeth, continuing to roll it around and tongue it. As a counterpoint to the bursts of fire that his teeth were creating, his hands still gently rubbed the small, highly sensitive place where the swell of the pale man's ass met his thighs, sending tingling sensations throughout the man's body.
Nick's tongue smoothly made its way up Greg's chest, stopping just where the throat and the collarbone collide, delving into the soft tissue, and sucking ever so slightly. Wrapping his arms around Greg's back, the older man began to pull him, directing him away from the wall and out of the kitchen.

"Nick?" Greg questioned in confusion, unable to see where the other man was taking him but soon finding out as he was thrown roughly onto his back, meeting a coffee table and a few books. He winced against the pain, but took a deep breath and released it slowly. Realizing that Nick was no longer touching him, he squirmed uncomfortably.

"Nick?"

"Shh" came the soft reply.

A clicking sound to his right caused Greg to stiffen.

"N-Nick? What's going on?"

"Just ... setting the mood."

Through the dark material of his shirt, Greg could faintly make out a small glow, and his muscles untensed as he recognized it as a candle.

From the small, sharp clink somewhere off to his side and the murmured 'Don't move,' he could tell that Nick had set the candle down near him on the coffee table.

His thoughts ceased as that mouth began traveling over him again, mapping his body as though he were a new country to be explored thoroughly. Greg's breath caught when Nick began paying attention to his right nipple, which had been neglected all this time.

He didn't even have to ask again; Nick bit down gently into his nipple without prompting, slowly applying more and more pressure until Greg thought he was about ready to explode from the rush of sensation.

He didn't even notice when one of Nick's hands drifted away, so intent was he on the sensations that the older man was able to create with just a set of teeth and a tongue. Oh, and those lips- the light kisses they placed to gently sooth the aching, reddened nipples were heaven, as were the hard kisses they placed against the pulse point on his throat when Nick wasn't paying attention to his needy nipples.

What he did notice, however, was the first heated drop that fell on his stomach, causing him to try to both arch into and away from the sensation, all the while moaning as he tried to figure out what could feel that way. The area within a three centimeter radius of that one little drop seemed to be alive and on fire, the white-hot flickers of sensation tingling and making him shudder.

That was nothing compared to the way that his body felt when Nick's mouth moved from the nipple that he had bitten and the wax replaced it; Greg couldn't help but cry out and struggle to move his hands out of the leather bonds.

Not being able to see made it all the worse and the better. He knew not what was coming next, yet his senses were heightened until he thought that he would come just from feeling the next line of that hot wax drizzled over his waiting skin.

Nick’s mouth finally made its way to his cock as he sloshed another line of the vanilla scented heat onto the man’s stomach. Greg’s head tossed lightly, the fabric of the shirt slightly rubbing against his face, and then, suddenly, the hot mouth was moving up and down very quickly, taking his hard length in as though it were a Popsicle.

Greg moaned, realizing only a second later that he was being deep-throated as the shock of sensation washed over him, blinding him even more effectively than the shirt that bound his eyes did. He hadn’t understood how close to completion he really was until he felt his balls draw up and his muscles tense so much that he knew it would quite literally be painful if he tried to hold back any longer.

“Nick,” he cried, trying to give a warning, but Nick continued to bob his head, silently encouraging him.

The younger man thrashed on the coffee table, letting the feelings take over and push him towards orgasm. He felt one of Nick’s hands come up to an abused nipple and roughly pull some of the wax off; it was enough to give him that last little bit of sensation needed for him to fall into the waves that overtook him as he felt his body jerk and his cock give up its spunk.

Then he felt Nick’s weight on top of him as the older man lay down on top of him, giving Greg’s neck a quick suck before the bronze hips began to move against the young man’s sweat slicked skin. It didn’t take very long for Nick to come either, what with Greg murmuring encouraging, dirty things in his ear and his own memory of the way that the other man had looked in submission to him. Greg felt the hips jerk one, two, three times before they stopped, and all that was heard in the wake of Nick screaming Greg’s name was harsh panting.

Hands fumbled with the belt around his arm, finally succeeding in removing it so that Greg could slide the shirt all of the way off of his body. With his sight regained, he looked down, realizing that there was still dried wax all over his body, but- surprisingly- very few marks that would linger.

Greg cracked a smile, a little bit unsure if Nick would be freaked out by what had just traversed between the two of them. “So, do we say I’m a complete whore and arrange for our first date in a couple of days or consider dinner today as our first?”

“Actually,” Nick replied after he had caught his breath, “isn’t this our third? We went out for drinks and small talk at the club, and then we were both at that welcoming get-together that Catherine put together for me, and dinner today was our third. So you’re practically a blushing virgin.”

“Yeah, well, this blushing virgin needs to figure out a way to get wax off of skin. Then, I need a shower.”

“Just pull it off; it’s easy. And the shower is that way,” Nick pointed towards the second door down the hallway, figuring that he would just wait until after Greg was done to take his. That was halted, however, by Greg reaching towards him and nearly dragging him by the hand over to the door to the bathroom.

Nick smirked, thinking that he was going to love being in a relationship with Greg.

“Oh, and Nick?”

“Yeah?”

“Merry Christmas,” Greg smiled before reaching over to turn on the water for the shower.

After getting a good look at Greg’s unclothed ass, all Nick could say was “And happy New Year!”