Title: Jacked!
By: Dr FooFoo
Email: dog.symbolism@gmail.com
Rating: PG13
Warnings: none
Summary: You know Greg was wearing Nick's leather jacket in King Baby. You know it.

***

Almost before Nick gets his jacket off and hung up in the front hall, Greg's on him, pawing and kissing and tasting like pancakes. Which is strange, because Nick's never known Greg to actually make any food for himself in the morning. Night. Whatever. Nick murmurs a quiet greeting and earns one of Greg's half-crazy grins for it. He's sad because he knows Greg's just about to head out the door to go to work, but it's the little moments like this in between that Nick looks forward to these days. Ecklie, that bastard.

Greg's lips leave Nick's and he mumbles a protest, but Greg's gone, back into the kitchen to finish his breakfast. Nick follows him into the other room and Greg offers up some pancakes, but Nick gives him a mini-lecture on how bad they are for you, and how their unhealthiness is tripled by the amount of syrup Greg drenches them in. Greg just rolls his eyes and stuffs his mouth with soggy pancakes.

Nick indulges himself by showering Greg with another hail of little kisses before retreating into the bedroom for a well-deserved sleep, and Greg's left all alone in the kitchen. Finishing his pancakes quickly, he dumps his syrup-washed plate in the sink and heads out the door, grabbing his jacket and keys from the hook in the hall on the way. Twenty minutes later, he's at the crime scene.

Greg glances down at his watch when Catherine gives him the second weird look of the night. What's with her anyway? Greg isn't that late, and it's not like he's breaking protocol or anything. He's just taking pictures. So why is everyone looking at him weirdly? It's only when Sara shows up at the scene and confronts him with a knowing smirk that he understands.

"Hey Greg. Nice jacket..."

Greg looks down at his jacket and raises an eyebrow. Since when does he own a leather jac- Oh.

Nick's just rounding a corner in the hall and heading toward the trace lab when he bumps into himself. Or, rather, Greg in a leather jacket. Nick's leather jacket. Specifically the leather jacket that Nick got at the Central Texas State Fair rodeo four years ago. The leather jacket that Nick never really thought was that hot. Until now anyway.

"Hey, G..." Nick says quietly, glancing up and down the halls quickly. Force of habit. Greg looks slightly rattled, but his eyes shrink from saucers when he recognises Nick. He recognises the look Nick's giving him, too, and his eyes widen right back up again, one eyebrow arching.

Nick notices the arch and sucks in a breath, standing up straighter and looking up and down the hall again. He looks back at Greg, who's grinning now, and doing that thing with his eyebrows again. It's very suggestive, anyway, and before Nick knows what he's doing, he ducks into the locker room, Greg in tow. As soon as they're inside, Greg tugs Nick behind a tall row of lockers and kisses him hard, pressing bodies together and grabbing hold of Nick's arms to hold him down.

Nick thinks, however, that if Greg gets to steal his leather jacket and wear it around all day like a tease, he should at least be able to touch it while he makes out with Greg. In the locker room. On the clock. Nick spends all of two seconds wondering how Greg always manages to make him lose his head in situations like this, before Greg's touching his face again and kissing a line down his neck.

It isn't until Greg smiles and presses his finger to Nick's lips that he realises he's moaning rather loudly. He feels his face flush, but he can't help bucking against Greg's hips and sucking his finger into his mouth. Greg smiles again and rubs on him, leather and all, and Nick leans back against the locker, clonking his head against the hard metal. Greg winces a little at that, but then Nick's kissing him and it doesn't matter anymore.

It's over way too soon, though, because when Greg pulls back and leans away quickly, not even Nick's murmured protesting can bring him back. Greg hushes him again with the same finger and pauses to listen, mumbling something about hearing someone when Nick gives him a questioning look. Nick reaches out, but Greg shakes his head and hikes the leather jacket up on his shoulders, smirking a bit.

When Greg leaves the room, Nick sighs quietly and straightens, tucking in his shirt, and spends a couple fretful minutes wondering what he's going to do about the insanely obvious bulge in his pants. Before leaving, he goes over the list of rules he needs to tell Greg as soon as his shift's done and they have some actual private time...

1. Greg never again wears a leather jacket to work. Ever.