Title: The Rules of the Game: The Way Down
Author: michigangirl30
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC17
Summary: It takes a word to make an action.
Disclaimers: The characters belong to someone else, not me, I'm just borrowing. The summary can be credited to Jason Mraz.
A/N: If you haven't read the first part of this story, you may want to turn back now. But if not, you'll find it here: The Rules of the Games. Also, thank you to shaky20 for the quick beta.

One of the most important rules of the game was that they never talked about it. Not since that first time, left alone on a scene and Nick had responded to his flirting with a rough embrace - of sorts.

Standing side by side, they had finished a final sweep of the scene and like any other time Greg got to spend a rare moment alone with Nick, he flirted. Always innocently at first, then gradually leading to the more suggestive. And finally, he’d touched, unable to contain himself in the delight of having Nick’s full attention and interest.

It was just a light tracing of fingertips over an exposed forearm, which made the reaction all the more startling in contrast.

Nick froze, mid-laugh, and looked at Greg with hooded eyes. “I get the feeling you aren’t just interested in conversation, Sanders.”

Greg’s mouth went dry. Hoping and daydreaming about the possibility of Nick picking up on his signals was a daily activity. Unfortunately, he’d never come up with what to do in the event that Nick would actually respond, instead of just continuing on his way in happy ignorance of Greg’s barely contained attraction to him. After an agonizingly long pause, Greg blurted, “Only if you’re willing to play, Nick.”

Those words echoed through his mind endlessly these days. If only he hadn’t phrased it that way, perhaps Nick’s attitude would have been different and then, the subsequent outcome as well. Had he just said, “I’m interested in knowing you, getting lost in you.. loving you,” would Nick have seen that it was more than just a game to him?

Nick’s gaze didn’t shift, but his eyes changed, darkened. “A game. You know me, I like a good distraction now and then.” He stepped into Greg and walked him back until he was squeezed between a wall and his body, no room for misinterpretation of his action.

When he leaned down, Greg tilted his head to receive a kiss he’d dreamt of on many nights. His eyes fluttered closed and he missed the narrowing of Nick’s eyes, but felt the viselike hand that clamped on his jaw. Roughly his head was shoved to one side and before he could ask what was happening, Nick’s teeth tore at his skin, sending sharp points of pain through his body.

Greg’s breathless, “Fuck!” seemed to galvanize Nick’s efforts and he was pressed even harder into the wall. And although it really did hurt, Greg told himself it was just that Nick liked it a bit rough. The first time was often quick and dirty, right? Testosterone makes you aggressive and desire makes you rush things, so it wasn’t like Nick had intended to truly hurt him.

The releasing of his flesh made him moan involuntarily. Nick’s mouth pressed to his ear and he braced for another bite, but it didn’t come. “You want me to fuck you? Is that what you want, Greg?”

Trying hard not to pant, Greg whispered back, “Thought about it. Do you want to fuck me?”

“Only if you say you want it.”

“I want you.” Lips brushed his ear and then Nick pulled back and smirked into his face.

“Not right now, pretty boy. But I’ll find you later.” He shoved roughly away from Greg and walked away.

Watching him walk away, not calling out, not trying to set things straight was his first mistake. His mind and body were reeling and just remembering to breathe had been hard enough. His thoughts had run to one extreme to the next, jumping from ‘Oh fuck ya, Nick wants me’ to ‘He’s not really serious, he’s just screwing with me.’ And just as he thought he’d settled on one, the other would compete for his attention again. By the time Nick had “found” him for their actual first time, he’d relaxed into a mellow ‘lets-wait-and-see-what-happens-next’ mood, convinced that his judgment had been clouded by surprise and his ever present desire to be someone Nick found attractive.

It was the next day near shift’s end, he’d been ensconced in one of the A/V labs most of the day and he’d escaped to the bathroom hoping to loosen some of the kinks that had developed all through his body. He’d done a few stretches and had then leaned over a sink, bent deeply at the waist to splash some cool water on his face. The door opened and then shut quickly, a sharp snap signifying that the room’s newest occupant had locked the door.

Greg looked over to see Nick leaning almost casually against the towel dispenser. The feral look in Nick’s eyes gave Greg a rush he’d never experienced before. Greg straightened and smiled, licking his lips. “Hey, getting ready to go home?”

“No. Where you been all night?”

Greg’s smile widened into a rueful smirk. “Stuck in the A/V lab. Sometimes I hate security cameras.”

“Still want me to fuck you?

Nearly wincing at the blunt quality of the question, Greg stammered. “We can meet back at my place, or yours, if you prefer-”

“No. I mean now.”

“What? Here?” Now he was confused again, that fear of being played with crashing over him like a wave.

“Yeah. Here. What’s the matter, you change your mind?”

Nick’s tone was distracting, so close to mocking him, but that hungry look was saying otherwise. “I just - is that why you locked the door?”

“Now you’re catching on.”

“Ok. Guess we’d better be quiet, huh?”

“It’ll be better that way, yeah.”

Greg grinned playfully and reached out a hand to touch Nick’s mouth in a shushing gesture. Nick’s mouth opened and allowed two of Greg’s fingers to slip inside. Greg watched, fascinated by how hot and silky Nick’s tongue felt. There was a light scraping of teeth and then Nick was gripping his wrist and pulling the hand away, twisting his arm until he turned around. Nick’s other arm wrapped around his waist and Greg was once again bent over the sink. Fear and excitement clashed inside Greg, holding his voice hostage until it was too late to turn back, the mirror a silent witness to the assassination of one fantasy for the sake of another.

Afterward, in the shower at home, he’d found the marks on his hips and wrists. Captivated, he’d wiped the fog from the mirror to check his back. As soon as he’d seen the oval shaped mark, his body jerked with the remembered feeling of the bite. The pain mixed with the pleasure of Nick’s hands, Nick’s cock deep inside him, just Nick, right there with him taking pleasure in his body, if not in Greg. The purpled bruise brought it all back, euphoria mixed with confusion and shame.

But somehow it, and all the other marks, faded over time. Each successive mark going a little deeper than his skin. Until the one under his eye, he’d never let Nick see any of them. It was just another of those unspoken rules, because Greg was pretty sure that visual evidence of what they’d been doing would make Nick stop. Especially if he thought Greg had shown anyone else those marks. So he kept them covered, most were easy to conceal anyway, due to convenient (and most certainly intentional) placement.

And it wasn’t like he wished they were visible, because when he couldn’t see the marks either, it was easier to remember the infrequent soft touches, like a gentle hand cupping his balls as he came. And that was just the thing, wasn’t it? The tiny offering of tenderness that kept him from stopping it, from walking away from it all. It was those moments that made the hope rise to the top again and it was in THIS moment, wrapped in Nick’s arms in the middle of the lab, broken and spent, that the hope kept him from slipping back into hiding.

Nick’s still murmuring demands, that really feel more like requests now, and Greg follows them. It gets them out of the lab and to the relative safety of Nick’s truck and for that he’s glad. Nick sits behind the wheel, alternately squinting into the morning sun and pretending that he’s not watching Greg trying to collect his dignity. When Greg doesn’t speak or make eye contact, Nick sighs and starts the engine. Even that doesn’t evoke a response, so he just begins driving. And whether it was muscle memory or something else, they end up at Nick’s house. At least, Greg thinks it’s Nick’s house, since he’s never seen it before.

Greg follows Nick silently out of the truck and to the door. Nick gets the key in the lock, but doesn’t turn it. When Greg finally realizes that something’s wrong, he finds himself in a familiar position, between Nick and a hard place. But those hard hands aren’t touching him, only carefully placed on either side of him against the wall. “If it hurt so much, why did you keep doing it?”

Nick’s eyes are so dark, Greg can see himself reflected there so clearly that he can even see the bruise under his eye and he can’t look away. His own hands move between them and land on Nick’s chest, gently. “When it started, I would have done anything to get your attention.”

There is a rush of hot air over his face when Nick puffs out a shocked breath. “So you let me hurt you? Why would you do that? Why didn’t you make me stop?”

“Because..” He slides his hands up and he drops his gaze at the same time to follow their progress. When Nick’s hand comes up to grip his chin, he stills and returns his eyes to Nick’s.

“Because why, Greg?” If he had missed the desperation in Nick before, he didn’t now. Nick mouth trembled and his eyes were brimming. “What is it you’re afraid to tell me?”

Suddenly, he’s falling, yet he’s still standing in place. “What you’re afraid to feel, Nick.” And then as the strength leaves his legs, he pulls Nick towards him, presses his mouth directly onto quivering lips and feels the rain of hot tears on his face.