Title: Fannysmackin' Post-Ep
By: geekwriter
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17ish
Summary: Post-ep for episode 7.04, Fannysmackin'.

Nick rolled over in bed and reached out, finding nothing but cool sheets. He sat up and looked around. Greg was sitting in the chair by the window. "Hey," Nick said, his voice thick with sleep. "What you doing?"

"Thinking," Greg said softly. "Watching you sleep."

Nick slung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Are you OK? Are you in pain?"

Greg shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Come back to bed."

"Can't sleep."

"You should rest."

Greg sighed and pushed the curtain open a crack. Brilliant yellow light streamed into the room. He let the curtain fall closed and the room was once again bathed in nothing but the mellow blue light coming from the fish tank on top of the dresser.

"Greg..."

Greg stood up slowly. Nick could tell it hurt him to move but he wouldn't take anything but the bare minimum painkillers.

"I'm going to have to tell her," Greg said as he sat on the edge of the bed next to Nick.

Nick tucked a strand of hair behind Greg's ear. "It'll be all right."

"She's going to freak."

"Probably."

Greg laughed softly, then scooted back on the bed. He stretched out on his left side and hummed in a pleased tone as Nick curled up behind him. "I won't be able to sleep," he said as Nick pulled the covers up around both of them.

Nick kissed the back of Greg's neck and placed his hand gently on Greg's hip. "Just close your eyes." Greg had trouble sleeping on a good day, so Nick knew he probably wouldn't sleep, but at least if he was lying down his body would have a chance to rest.

"You could fuck me," Greg said.

Nick laughed, startled.

"I'm serious. You know I always sleep better after I come, and those assholes stomped my jerking hand."

Nick closed his eyes tight. Greg's right hand was fractured, as was one of his ribs. He had contusions from the top of his scalp all the way down his legs. The doctors were pretty sure the vision in his right eye would return to normal, but they weren't positive.

"Hey," Greg whispered, placing his splinted hand over Nick's. "Stop feeling guilty. It wasn't your fault."

"I just hate it," Nick whispered. "I can't stand the thought of anyone hurting you."

Greg snuggled back against him. "So make me feel better."

Nick slipped his hand off Greg's hip to between his legs. Greg was already getting hard.

"Love it when you touch me," Greg whispered.

Nick stroked Greg through his boxers for a while, then slipped his hand beneath the elastic waistband and wrapped his fingers around Greg's cock. "This OK?" he asked.

"Mmm." Greg's breath was coming faster.

Nick twisted his wrist on each stroke, gripping the base tighter and just teasing the tip. He thought of the way Greg touched himself, tried to match the rhythm and the pressure. He pulled his hand back for a moment, licked his palm, and then returned to jerking Greg off.

Greg moaned and tipped his head back, pressing it against Nick's shoulder. "You're going to make me come," he panted.

Nick nipped at Greg's earlobe. "That's the point."

"Too fast. You're...God...fuck."

Nick kissed Greg's ear. "Love to watch you come. You gonna come for me?"

Greg gasped and his body tensed. Nick whispered sweet words to him and coaxed him through his orgasm.

Greg relaxed back against him and let out a contented sigh. "Your turn."

"Nah, I'm good."

"Hmm?" Greg was starting to drift towards sleep. Good orgasms always made him sleepy.

"Sleep," Nick whispered. He wiped his hand on the sheet and snuggled up behind Greg even closer.

He closed his eyes and listened to Greg's breaths become slow and shallow. He understood how Greg's mother felt. He was overprotective, too. He never felt completely at ease unless he knew Greg was safe, wrapped his arms.