Title: In the Still of the Night
By: geekwriter
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show and I don't pretend to. I make no money off this and think anybody who tries to make money off fanfic is a douche.

The stain is large and dark, spreading out over the sheets in a large oval. Nick slides his hands over his head and just stares at it. He's too tired to even react. He thinks he might start to laugh, but he swallows the urge since at this point, the laughter would be hysterical and no one wants that.

"Dude," comes a voice from behind him, and soon he can feel the heat of Greg's shoulder next to his. Greg snorts a laugh.

"It's not funny, G," says Nick.

"OK," says Greg. "You, uh, you want me to make you another one?"

Nick shakes his head and turns, heads to the bathroom for towels. He returns to the bed and sops up the mess as best he can.

They'd been traveling for nearly two days and had only made it as far as Denver. There had been delays and then more delays and then even more delays, and then the Denver airport had shut down completely. The conference in South Carolina had started already and there was no way they were going to make it. Nick had just been thankful to get what was quite possibly the city's very last hotel room, even if it meant he did have to share with Sanders.

They were both exhausted and cold and cranky and they'd come up to the room and gotten ready for bed and Greg had said, "I've got hot cocoa if you want it." Hot cocoa had sounded fantastic after thirty-six hours spent in airports and hotel shuttle lines while the snow whipped around their bodies. And then Nick had moved to sit on the bed and lost his grip on the little hotel Styrofoam cup and jumped up just in time to watch the hot, sticky liquid cover most of his bed.

"Wow," says Greg as he looks at the remaining cocoa stain. "You wouldn't think ten ounces of hot chocolate would make such a mess."

Nick laughs tiredly and tosses the towel into the tub. He turns on the water to rinse it out. "This is not the best day of my life," he says.

Greg takes a sip of his own hot cocoa. "You sure you don't want me to make you more? I brought, like, ten packets."

Nick's hungry and cold and tired, but he just says, "I'm going to take a shower." He can feel the stale airport smell clinging to his skin.

Nick makes the shower as hot as he can stand it and rinses away the film of sweat on his skin and the aches in his muscles. He stays under the spray for a long time, and when he's done the bathroom is filled with steam and he feels almost human again. He pulls on a pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt and is surprised when he comes out of the bathroom and smells food.

He must look surprised, too, because Greg says, "I ran across the street for food. I hope pizza's OK."

"Yeah," says Nick. His stomach growls and he sits in one of the room's two chairs. "Man," he says, "it smells awesome."

There are two medium pizza boxes on the table. Greg says, "I got two. I didn't know what you like."

"Anything," says Nick. One of the pizzas is covered with all sorts of meats and vegetables, the other one piled with slices of tomato and extra cheese. There had been a gas station next to the pizza place and Greg's got a six-pack of beer. Between the two of them, they finish off both pizzas, four beers, and Nick takes Greg up on the offer of another cup of cocoa.

"Is it lame that it's only 9 o'clock and I want to go to bed?" Greg asks with a yawn after the pizza boxes have been thrown away and the two remaining beers have been stashed in the mini-fridge.

"Not at all," says Nick. He eyes his bed, the stain dried stiff and sticky. "I hate sleeping on the floor," he says.

"Why would you sleep on the floor?" Greg asks. "We've got a perfectly good queen we can share."

The bed looks so inviting and Greg seems so nonchalant about it that Nick doesn't even argue. He climbs into bed while Greg goes to take a shower and the last thing he hears before falling asleep is the sound of the water running in the bathroom.

********************



Nick wakes just enough to realize that he's warm and so comfortable that he can't help but smile. He moves closer to the body pressed against his front, nuzzles his nose against their neck and smells clean skin and sleep. He sighs happily and starts to drift back to sleep. His eyes open wide. He's spooning Greg, his chest pressed hard to Greg's back, his arm slung around Greg's waist, his hard-on rubbing up against Greg's ass.

Nick's entire body tenses and he forces himself to relax. Slowly he starts to move the arm around Greg's waist. Greg moans and places his hand on Nick's arm. "S'all right," Greg mumbles sleepily. He pets Nick's arm and sighs contentedly. "It's nice."

Nick stills, waits a few moments for Greg to fall back to sleep. He starts to move again, rolling back a bit as he tries to pull his arm from beneath Greg's touch. Greg rolls with him, turns from his side to his back and onto his other side. He wraps one arm around Nick's shoulders and slings his leg over Nick's hip, sliding his foot behind Nick's knee and moving Nick's leg between his own.

Greg rocks his hips slowly, strokes the back of Nick's neck with his fingertips.

"Greg," Nick whispers, caught in limbo between terrified and turned on.

Greg's eyes blink open slowly and in the dim of the hotel room, Nick can just barely make out a sleepy smile. "Hey," Greg whispers

"Hey," Nick says, since he doesn't know what else to say. Greg's kiss is soft, just the touch of lips to lips. He rocks his hips again and Nick can feel Greg's arousal against his thigh. As he parts his lips to moan, Greg's tongue sweeps inside, lazily tracing the sharp edges of Nick's teeth.

"We should maybe talk about--" Nick begins.

"Shut up," Greg whispers against his mouth. He reaches down to pull at Nick's sweatpants. After a minute or so of kissing and groping and trying to get their clothes off, they're finally naked. Nick thinks he's probably going to regret it in the morning, but at the moment he has Greg's strong body skin to skin with his and that cancels out any thought of future regret.

They're on their sides facing one another, intertwined again after taking off the layers of clothing that had previously separated them. Greg slides one hand down Nick's back, then cups his ass. Nick rocks his hips against Greg's, feeling a shudder run through him every time his cock brushes against Greg's.

"Feels so good," Greg whispers.

Nick takes a shaky breath and nods. "Yeah. God." He pushes on Greg's shoulder, rolls him onto his back, stretches out over him. Their bodies are aligned from thigh to shoulder. Nick drops his head down and presses his face against Greg's neck. "Fuck," he whispers.

Greg's fingers stroke up and down his back. He squeezes Nick's ass, holds on as if urging Nick forward. His hips arch up against Nick's with every thrust. He's still not completely awake. He kisses Nick's temple lazily, moans softly in Nick's ear.

It doesn't take long, maybe ten minutes of lazy kissing and grinding, Greg's fingers never pausing, constantly stroking and kneading his skin. Nick feels Greg shudder, then tense, then he feels the hot wet evidence of Greg's orgasm against his skin. Nick follows shortly afterwards, crying out Greg's name.

They don't speak. They barely move. Nick shifts just enough so that the majority of his weight is on the bed instead of on Greg's body. He lays his head on Greg's shoulder and closes his eyes, not intending to fall asleep but he does, Greg's soft caresses against his scalp lulling him to sleep.