Title: Flight of Fancy
By: flipflopadd1ct
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Greg takes a mid-flight risk. I think it's, like, required for every slash writer to write *something* along these lines. I'm just doing my part! This is very much a PWP.

***

I should have made a move, Greg thought as he looked at Nick's sleeping body resting beside him. They had been sent to Detroit (of all places) to follow a lead on a case. Now, the case having been wrapped up, they were flying home to Vegas and Greg's crush on Nick had resulted in naught.

Nick's head was pressed against the closed window, his mouth slightly open as he slept deeply and peacefully. Greg's gaze traveled down Nick's body, as it often did, and suddenly he noticed something.

Nick was hard.

Greg shook his head. It couldn't be! No, he must be tired and his eyes just deceiving him because there would be absolutely no reason for Nick to be hard.

He looked again.

He could definitely see the outline of Nick's cock pressed against his right leg.

Damn. Not only was Nick hard, he was big.

Greg swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. Nick wasn't the only one with an erection now.

Greg looked around the cabin. It was late – almost everybody else was asleep, and as luck would have it, there was no one in the seats directly across the aisle. He spotted the blanket nearby and a daring, dangerous, utterly sexy idea formed in his mind.

It was now or never.

He slowly pulled the blanket up, enough to cover them both. Then Greg reached over with his left hand, concealed by the blanket, and said a silent prayer because Nick was wearing sweatpants. Soft, mobile, easy-to-slip-a-hand-under-the-waistband sweatpants.

Greg touched the arc of skin between Nick's shirt and pants. He sucked in his breath, the experience surreal.

Nick didn't stir.

Greg decided to go further, creeping under the waistband. Nick was wearing generic cotton boxers, just like the ones Greg himself was wearing. Greg's breath shortened, his pulse quickening as he inched closer to Nick's erection, because Greg still didn't believe this was happening.

He stopped at the base of Nick's cock. He could feel the pubic hair, and Greg suddenly became painfully aware of his own needy cock. His hand resting in Nick's lap, Greg waited to see if Nick would wake.

The sleeping man didn't move.

Greg let his fingers finally, finally touch Nick's cock. He had been fantasizing about this moment for years, but all of his dreams were nothing compared to the real thing. Nick's cock felt rock-hard and Greg could tell it held a lot of power. He involuntarily closed his eyes for a second as he imagined how Nick's cock would feel against his own, sliding past his lips, buried inside his ass.

He remembered where he was and opened his eyes. Nick was still sound asleep in the same position he had been before. Greg wrapped his hands around Nick's boxers-covered cock and slid upwards to the circumcised head.

Nick woke up.

"Shit! Sorry!" Greg panicked and quickly pulled his hand away, blushing furiously.

"Don't stop," Nick said in a satisfied, sleep-thick voice.

Greg stared in surprise. Nick was supposed to get pissed off; he wasn't supposed to ask Greg to continue!

Nick was wearing a frisky grin on his face. He grabbed Greg's hand and guided it back under the blanket and into his sweatpants, but this time, Greg found himself stroking Nick's bare cock.

"Much better."

Nick's eyes fluttered closed as Greg tightened his grip. Greg started moving his hand again, more firmly and determined now that he knew Nick wanted it as much as he did. Nick gently moved his hips back and forth, pushing his cock further into Greg's hand in time with Greg's strokes. Greg was mesmerized by the look on Nick's face, an expression of pure, I've-been-waiting-for-this-moment bliss.

Greg started twisting his wrist as he reached the head of Nick's cock, and the new motion caused Nick to breathe heavier. He moaned softly, grunting quiet, needy curses as his orgasm approached. Greg's hand continued to slide, to flow over Nick's throbbing, engorged erection.

"I'm gonna come," Nick whispered.

As soon as Nick said those words, Greg squeezed him lightly and Nick shot into his hand, the warm, wet liquid filling his cupped fingers. At the same time, Greg came into his own boxers, an uncomfortable wet spot quickly forming in his jeans.

Smiling wickedly, Greg pulled his hand out from under the layers of fabric and licked it clean.

Nick's eyes widened with lust.

"Mmm. It tasted just like I thought it would."

It was Nick's turn to be speechless.

When he could speak again—after Greg was done suggestively sucking on his fingers—Nick leaned close and grabbed Greg's hand.

"Do you want to come back to my place when we land?"

He didn't even need to ask.

***