Title: Burning Love
By: 10th-letter
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R
Summary: Greg finally finds out Nick's deepest darkest secret. But how will Greg handle it? There's a four letter word that may give you a clue.

Greg Sanders didn’t know what to think. He had seen his boyfriend through some serious moment and some light moments as well. He was willing to accept all of Nick’s quirks, Lord knows Nick accepted all of Greg’s. But enough was enough. Greg should have known something was up when he heard the opening chords of Jailhouse Rock coming from the bedroom he and Nick shared. Putting down the take-out Chinese he had picked up on his way home, he followed the sounds. It couldn’t be. Could it? Greg was willing to put up with the Toby Keith marathons and even the occasional Carrie Underwood song, but Elvis? The only thing that would make it any more bizarre would be if Nick was wearing a white leather jumpsuit.

He was. Greg couldn’t believe his eyes. There was Nick, in a rhinestone studded jumpsuit dancing around to the radio remix of A Little Less Conversation. He even had the sunglasses on. Greg was fighting an internal battle. Would he burst out laughing, or would he be overcome at the sheer cuteness of the scene? Either way, Nick looked really good in leather. Greg made a mental note to buy Nick another pair of leather pants. As soon as Nick started playing air synthesizer, Greg couldn’t restrain himself. He burst out laughing. Nick finally heard him.

“Jeez! Greg! You scared the shit outta me!” screamed Nick, spinning around. The chorus had kicked in “A little less conversation, a little more action…”

“I couldn’t resist myself, Nick. You’re just too funny sometimes. You hound dog you.” Said Greg, chuckling.

“Listen, Greg, you tell no one, got it?” said Nick sternly advancing on Greg. When Nick Stokes got mad, you noticed. Luckily, Nick noticed the worried look on his boyfriend’s face and eased back a bit.

“No one knows but us, the wall paper and our sex toy drawer. Besides, what do you expect me to say, ‘Hey, Grissom, I walked in on Nick in an Elvis costume in the bedroom we share and I had to hold back not to fuck his brains out right there while our dinner got cold.’?” Said Greg, smiling.

“So, ‘Fuck my brains out, huh?’ You know, this outfit is getting a little hot. Wanna help me out of it?” Nick said, walking over to the bed, winking at Greg.

“Viva Las Vegas, baby!”

It was a few days after Greg had discovered Nick’s secret Elvis fetish and Greg had never been happier. Their sex life had gotten leagues better after Nick had discovered the joys of nylon jumpsuits. A few times Greg even asked Nick to leave the sunglasses on. There was something about having Elvis ram you that was distinctly Vegas.

But that’s not where this story starts. This story starts on one of Greg’s off days. Greg had his iPod plugged in to his home stereo and was dressed in full costume. 80’s hair and shoulder-padded blazer jacket. The blazer was covering only a pair of faded Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles boxers.

“I love rock n roll! Put another dime in the jukebox baby!” shouted Greg, playing a violent air guitar riff. “Yeah me! Singin’ I love rock n’ roll!”

Greg was really getting into the swing of the song adding more and more theatrical movements to some of Joan Jett’s more expressive guitar riffs. He even managed to pull off a fairly dramatic slide on his knees. Of course, by the end of the slide, his boxers had managed to slide off and he was face to groin with his boyfriend.

“Now that’s a greeting for ya.” laughed Nick.

Greg turned beet red. “You weren’t supposed to be home for another few hours. What’re you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, babe. I had a great day at work.” Nick replied sarcastically. “Grissom realized you were feeling a little cranky at work over the past few days so he sent me home early to take care of you.”

“Grissom sent you home early?”

“Well, Cath helped loosen him up.”

“I bet.” Greg laughed, “What’s behind your back?”

Nick smiled and produced a large box. “Open it, G”

Greg pulled off the simple red string and grinned, “Chocolate cake? Is it triple chocolate?”

Nick nodded. “Now, take that wig and blazer off. I want to feed it to you in bed.”

“Wow, sex, Joan Jett and chocolate cake. Best day off. Ever!”