Title: Greg's Magical Arse
By: it-glitters
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,802
Spoilers: Post-ep for "Toe Tags".
Author's Notes: Beta'd by sanityunhinged... and then I messed with it.
This fic was born out of a random conversation between some friends, specifically me, ChemFishee, and Kennedy that led into a fic challenge between me and Chem on some fandom cliches and general insanity. My challenge involved Greg's perma-lubed state, and her's involved Greg being a "well-lubed machine". So, this may or may not be a little bit of a crack fic.
Summary: A little challenge between some friends to write the best fandom crack. Mine was regarding the tendencies of people to just assume that Greg's ass is naturally lubricated at all times.

***

"Jesus." Greg stepped out of the bathroom and tried to grab the towel from the bar. He managed to reach his arms out enough to move the towel, but he didn't get enough force to actually lift it. He stared down at it as if he was trying to decide if it was worth bending down to get. He shivered.

"Greg? Do you need help?" Nick had watched the whole set of events unfold since he got home a few minutes prior to Greg stepping out of the bathroom.

Greg continued to stare down wistfully at the towel. He looked up at Nick"¦and then back to the towel. He wasn't going to ask, but he really wanted Nick to get him that towel. He shivered again, letting his teeth chatter together to add to the effect.

"I'll get it, hot shot," Nick said sarcastically, as he picked the towel up and tried to hand it to Greg. Greg's hand got about halfway out before Greg winced.

"What now?" Nick asked. He was starting to get worried as he wrapped Greg in the towel and began to dry him off.

"Nothing."

"Greg, you can be lazy. But, this is beyond even your sloth."

"Do we have any BenGay?"

"You're not that old, Greg."

"I had a rough case."

Nick cringed. He had had a rough one, too. Another victim of circumstance, someone who had defended his country only to come back and fall at the hands of some doped-up maniac. "So, what's with the stiffness there?" Nick asked with a raised eyebrow.

"There's gonna be no stiffness tonight."

"I wasn't talking about that, Greg. I was talking about the weird little crab walk you've got going and your inability to move your arms more then 6 inches from your body."

Greg winced as he tried to sit down on their bed. "Just a little sore is all."

"A little? What the hell were you and 'Rick doing today?" He helped a bone weary Greg onto the bed.

"The case - the woman fell off a cliff. We, therefore, had to repel down said cliff to find her... brain."

Nick crinkled his nose at the thought. They had seen a lot of things, but no one liked to be the one stuck searching for lost organs. He pulled Greg to him and started to rub his shoulders. "I thought you were an Eagle Scout or something... Aren't you supposed to be all rugged and outdoorsy?"

Greg sighed and leaned harder into Nick, demanding more. "You forget, we're both old now. I was 18 when I got my last badge. I'm 31 now. It's been a long time since I last went gallivanting through the desert."

"Well..." Nick started to chuckle. "There was that one time..."

"Yeah, and I was the one that had to pull the cactus prickers from your ass for an hour!"

"Yeah, but it was hot up until then."

"Yeah, like 120 outside!"

"Dammit, Greg. I'm trying to re-live something great here!"

"I faked it, just so you know," Greg said casually, but inside he was petrified. It was something that he had been holding on to forever.

"What?" Nick stopped massaging Greg's shoulders.

"Hmmm?" Greg hummed lazily, he was hoping it would calm Nick and delay the inevitable shit storm it was about to create. He always brought up the bad news at the most inappropriate times.

"What do you mean, you faked it?" There was an edge to Nick's voice that Greg had only heard a few times before.

"That day - the one you were just talking about - in the desert? Yeah, I wasn't really into it. So, I faked it."

"I... How? What?"

"Dude, I don't even know where you were that day. I mean, you made me jerk myself off - you know how I hate that. And it was hot, and I just wanted to get out of there."

"You're joking, right?"

"No." Greg laid himself gingerly into the pillows. "It doesn't mean I love you any less, puddin' pop."

Nick sat up in the bed and stared at their closet for no reason in particular. "How many times have you faked it, Greg?"

Greg rolled over on the pillow and faced Nick. He put his foot on Nick's calf and started to rub. "Just that one time."

Nick smacked the foot away. "Don't lie to me. I didn't know you were faking - so how would I know if you were faking the other times, too?"

Greg rolled again and faced his back toward Nick. "It was just that one time. I wasn't having any fun." He stared intently at the wall. It was going far worse then he expected. He was hoping that they could have joked it off and Nick would have shown him a good time to loosen his stiff muscles. Greg wished he knew how to keep his foot out of his mouth sometimes.

"Did it ever occur to you to tell me that you weren't having fun? Maybe I could have made it fun." It was obvious that Nick was struggling to keep whatever calm he had left about the situation.

"No. I wasn't in the mood that day." Greg winced as he dug his grave a little deeper.

"What do you mean you weren't in the mood? When are you not in the mood?"

"That one day, in the desert, I was not in the mood. And I'm not in the mood now. So... there." He pulled the sheet on top of him and curled into a pillow. Nick had no way of knowing that less then 10 minutes earlier he had been extremely in the mood. But he wasn't anymore; not with Nick being such an ass about everything. Greg had just wanted to be honest.

"No," Nick said forcefully as he rolled Greg onto his back. "We're going to do this, and you're gonna come." He tore the sheet off of Greg and grabbed a hold of his dick.

"Nooooo," Greg whined, but he dared not move.

Nick kneeled between Greg's legs and started to massage his limp cock to life. Greg had pulled the pillow up over his face and was refusing to look at Nick.

"Greggo, come on. This is supposed to be fun."

"It's a lot like rape."

Nick let go and scooted to the edge of the bed. Greg realized instantly what he had said "“ the whole foot in mouth scenario again. If he thought before that he wasn't going to get laid tonight, he was now thinking he wasn't going to get any again until hell froze over.

"Nicky?"

"No, Greg." Nick picked up a pillow and started to the living room.

Greg got up as fast as his sore body would let him and strolled naked into their living room.

"Nick, I didn't mean it - not like that." He tried to think on his feet about what could get their night back on track.

Nick rolled into the couch and put the pillow over his head.

"Nicky, come on. I only faked it that one time - and I hated it. I promised myself that I would never fake it again. That's why I told you that I wasn't in the mood. We both had a rough day and nasty cases... I don't want to sleep alone, and there isn't enough room on that couch for the both of us." He only had honesty left.

Nick didn't move, so Greg moved forward and squatted next to the couch. He put his hand on Nick's back. "You could never rape me, you know that. I really didn't mean it. Please, come back to bed. We can fuck," he tried to make the last part light. Nick threw the pillow at him.

"I really don't want to be your pity fuck tonight. If you don't want to, you don't want to, and I'm not going to force you into anything you don't actually want to do." He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Greg straddled him.

"Greg, what did I just say?"

"Well, I'm in the mood now. See," he said pointing to his half-hard cock. "I want to fuck."

"Well, I don't want to." Nick tried to stare away, but just ended up staring at the reflection of Greg's dick in the television screen.

Greg started to wiggle his ass against Nick's crotch. "Uh oh. I'm not the only one who thinks this is a good idea."

Nick cursed his body for being so rebellious. He had wanted to win the argument... or whatever it was that they were having.

Greg leaned back and pulled Nick's cock out from his boxers, making Nick shudder at the touch. What Nick had not expected was that Greg would slide directly onto it - without warning or preparation. And it felt good.

"Uh." Greg let out a strangled cry as he grasped his own dick in one hand and started to lift his body from Nick's so that he could sink back down again.

"What, do you come pre-lubed now?" Nick asked as he grasped Greg's hips to control the cadence.

"Eagle Scouts are always prepared," Greg choked out as he leaned into Nick's chest. He gave up on trying to jerk off and just settled for rubbing against Nick as they moved.

"You just walk around waiting for someone to fuck you?" Nick had no idea why he was complaining about the situation when Greg's asshole was so tight and hot around his cock, but there was a part of him that just had to know.

Greg braced one arm on the couch and placed his face in the crook of Nick's neck. He started to let Nick do all the work, thrusting into him at an angle. "Shower..." he moaned.

"You. Did. Not. Uh," Nick panted as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. Greg bit his earlobe and Nick came instantly.

Nick was dimly aware of the gentle slapping a moment later and Greg sucking on his neck. Greg made a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a whimper and Nick felt the hot wetness cascading across his belly. Greg fell onto him and Nick felt his cock slipping out.

Nick cradled Greg in his arms. "Did you really lube yourself up in the shower?"

"Yes." That was a truth.

"Was this whole thing a game so that we could have hot couch sex?"

"Yes." That was a lie.

"So, you've never faked it?"

"No," Greg lied again. He closed his eyes and knew that he would need Nick to carry him to him to bed in a few minutes. It was just better to be on Nick's good side for that.

***