Title: In Which Greg Sanders Jerks Off
By: geekwriter
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for the Merry Month of Masturbation. The title pretty much explains it all. Greg, with a cameo by Nick.

Greg Sanders has been jerking off pretty much since he was an infant. There's actually a picture of him at two or three years old in the bathtub, more interested in his dick than the bath toys and, really, who could blame him? Greg's dick has always been his friend, sometimes his only friend.

The thing is, he was so not cool in high school. He wasn't even close to cool. He couldn't even stand on the same block as cool without getting his ass kicked. Sure, he was smarter than everybody else, but in high school brains got you absolutely nowhere. He was the acne-riddled chess geek with full orthodontic headgear, plus he was kind of a spaz, plus Mama Lena always put stuff like pickled herring in his lunch. The fact that he brought his own lunch was uncool enough, but pickled herring? He tricked Stu Phillips into trading his turkey sandwich for it one day. That was the first day he ever got stuffed into a locker, but not the last.

So Greg didn't really even have friends in high school, let alone somebody to have sex with, so he jerked off a lot. A lot a lot. It was lonely and he felt kind of pathetic going through a box of Kleenex a week, but it got the job done.

Greg made friends in college, and his acne went away, and he got rid of the head gear and palate expander and only had to wear his retainer when he slept, and eventually he found people who wanted to have sex with him, which totally rocked. He always figured he'd stop jerking off once he starting having sex on a regular basis, but he didn't, he just enjoyed it more. He had more to think about--actual things he'd done instead of vague fantasies--and he didn't feel pathetic so he was willing to take his time and really get into it.

By the time Greg turned 30, he'd turned jerking off into an art form. He had toys of all kinds and four different types of lube and an extremely well organized porn collection. He was getting sex on a regular basis, and he'd really enjoyed introducing Nick to the fun that could be had with toys and, you know, doing crazy shit like actually leaving the lights on. That didn't change the fact that he still loved to jerk off, like all the time.

He jerked off in the shower before work. He jerked off before going to sleep. Once he jerked off in the men's room at the lab, but that had totally been Nick's fault for wearing those tight jeans and that damn red t-shirt that hugged his biceps.

He loves jerking off. Nick had laughed when he told him, but Greg's not embarrassed. It's pretty much the best thing in the world. Coming home and popping a beer and jerking off slow on the couch while listening to Pentaphobe cranked on the stereo--he thinks maybe he likes that best. Although, he also likes doing it fast and hard, kneeling on the floor of his bedroom, fingers in his ass as he thinks about Nick fucking him. He likes doing it when Nick's watching him. He likes it when he's nodding off to sleep and not even really paying attention to the fact that he's stroking his dick until he's close to coming.

He likes that Nick talks about it now, sometimes mentions when he's done it himself. He calls it spanking or sometimes cleaning his gun, which confuses Greg because then he has to try to figure out if Nick's using a euphemism or really talking about cleaning his actual gun. Greg doesn't need a euphemism. He calls it jerking off mostly, just because that's the first term he ever heard for it. He calls it masturbating. Sometimes he calls it wanking, but mostly he thinks Americans who call it that are trying too hard to be British, so he sticks with jerking off. He had a roommate in college who called it performing diagnostics on his man tool, which Greg thought was about the stupidest fucking thing ever, but the guy had taken a few too many hockey pucks to the head so he might have had just enough brain damage to make him think a term like "man tool" sounded good.

"What you doing?" Nick asks.

Greg takes a shaky breath and lets it out slow.

"You're doing that and you answered the phone?"

"Knew it was you." Greg slides his hand down to squeeze his balls and lets his head fall back against the pillow. "Talk dirty to me."

"I'm in public," Nick whispers. "I'm at the mall. I wanted to know if you need anything while I'm here."

Greg thinks about Nick fucking him in the mall and moans softly. "You know what I like?" he asks. "I like it when you tie me to the headboard and suck me for hours, until I'm begging for it."

"Jesus," Nick whispers. "I'm...I don't think I should...I'm in public, Greg."

Greg grips his cock again. "Love it when you shove my knees past my shoulders and shove your cock into me." He bites his lip and his toes curl as he swirls his hand around the tip. "Love it when you fucking...God...when you just fucking take..." He's panting and laughing at the same time, it feels so good. "You just fucking take me. Love that."

"I...I'm gonna go. Do, uh, you want me to come over?"

"Will you fuck me?"

"Hell, yes." Nick's voice is low and sure. Greg can just see him, so focused as he heads quickly to his car.

"Yes," says Greg, his strokes coming fast now. "Yeah, fuck me." He drops the phone and arches his hips up and comes.

"You should have waited for me," Nick says after a minute, and Greg turns his head groggily towards the phone. He picks the phone back up with a shaky hand.

"Hey," he whispers.

"I'm still gonna fuck you when I get there."

Greg smiles and curls up on his side. "Counting on it." As much as he loves sex with Nick, he doesn't think he'd give up the uncomplicated bliss of jerking off, not ever. He's been doing it practically his whole life, after all, and it would be a shame to waste all that talent.