Title: A Simple peck uses two muscles while a passionate kiss uses all 34 muscles in the face
By: 10th-letter
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
AN: All of these stories are set in that nebulous "Every Season Time" so I can draw from any character at any time. It's my story, tough cookies. Just picture the time-space continuum in the corner doing yoga, or something.
Summary: Nick gets lost in a daydream. This is a ficlet inspired by one of the 10 quirky facts about kissing found here: http://msn.match.com/msn/article.aspx?articleid=8952&menuid=6&lid=429.

***

CSIs Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders sat in the break room unwinding after yet another long shift. Nick sat close to the door, reading the sports section and only half paying attention. His real focus was on Greg who was leaning back in his chair, massaging his jaw and puckering his lips.

Nick peered over the top of the newspaper and his mind began to wander.

Nick was standing in the Ballistics Lab, test-firing a gun. He had just finished firing the second test bullet and was fishing out the spent casing when he heard a knock on the door. It was Greg.

"Hey, Nick. What's up? Need an extra set of hands?" asked Greg, leaning casually against the door frame.

"Hey, G!" blurted Nick, perhaps a little too excited. "I'm good in here, but I wouldn't mind if ya wanted to hang around for a –" Nick couldn't finish his thought. Greg had pinned Nick against the wall, their combined weight rattling the cage that held the department's test guns. Greg passionately locked lips with Nick, his tongue forcefully chasing Nick's around the Texan's mouth. Greg momentarily broke the kiss only to nibble on Nick's lower lip. Raising Nick's arms above his head, Greg planted a series of quick pecks in various places around Nick's face, ending on Nick's collarbone, playfully nibbling as he went. Greg smirked as he slowly worked the buttons of Nick's shirt, planting kisses as he went. When Greg reached Nick's waist he looked up at the Texan's closed eyes.

"Nick, you alive in there?" said Greg.

Nick could only moan in response.

"Nick! Earth to Nick!" shouted Greg.

Nick moaned once more.

"Nick!" shouted Greg from across the break room table, a sugar packet in his hand. He had been throwing them at Nick's face in a vain attempt to rouse the older man out of his daydream.

Nick's eyes snapped open, the newspaper thankfully covering the growing bulge in his jeans.

"Nick? You ok, man? You were off in your own world there." Asked Greg.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine man."

"Good. I was getting worried." Said Greg as Nick took a sip of his coffee. "Man, my jaw's killing me today.

Nick choked on his coffee.

"Nick! You ok?" shouted Greg, leaping off his feet to pat Nick on the back, hoping to stop the coughing.

Nick nodded, out of breath. It was now or never. "Hey, G?"

"Yeah?"

"No one's coming, right?"

"Save for a few lab rats, no. Why?"

Nick stood up and led Greg to the corner of the break room. He pinned Greg's arms to the wall and pressed his lips against the man of his dreams. He had been waiting for years to finally do exactly what he was doing. When he finally pulled apart, Greg grinned from ear to ear.

"You know, they say that a passionate kiss uses all 34 muscles in your face." He said.

"Then I plan to be getting quite a workout." Replied Nick, pecking Greg on the cheek.

"That's only two muscles. You know, I rented that new movie you wanted to see with the, um, guy and the explosions and-"stammered Greg.

"It's a date."

"Oh and if, when you happen to get to my place and you see a beat-up pillow with your picture taped to it, don't mind it."

***