Title: No Game Today
By: rispacooper
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Warnings: KINK! Slight bondage kink and then some *cough* rimming. Serious smuttiness here with little redeeming qualities. You’ve been warned. Adults Only.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Set almost immediately after the last little piece I wrote for my porny epic, “Submission Games”. So definitely set in that universe, in fact, a few things probably won’t make sense if you haven’t read that.
AN: This is totally for pir8fancier, even though it’s not her show, it’s still her kink. Well ok, with a few other kinks thrown in. (I played my own little stop_drop_porn with this one. Just for fun. Which means I set myself the task and had to write it in a day—only then RL interrupted and rather urgently, so it was finished over two days, but still within the space of 24 hours. So all mistakes are because of that. Yeah.:p )

“Say it, Greg.”

It was getting harder and harder to insist, to speak at all. Nick’s chest was locked tight, his body aching and unsteady just looking at the picture in front of him. Greg was beautiful, stretched out and ready for a fucking. The skin of his back was sweat-slick and golden, his muscles rippling as he moved—tried to move—ended up just straining against the silver restraints keeping him locked in place.

Nick licked his lips when Greg squirmed again, arching his back and spreading his legs as best he could, considering he was on his knees and handcuffed to the headboard. Part of him still didn’t understand why Greg was willing to do this, what Greg got out of it, the other part of him was already skimming a hand over the hot, pink flesh of Greg’s ass, enjoying the little breathless laugh that this drew out of Greg.

His next day off he was going down to Target and buying a mirror to put on the wall at the head of the bed, so if—when—they did this again, he could still see Greg’s face. As it was he had to go by the noises Greg was making and the way Greg jerked whenever Nick dropped a hand down to touch his cock.

He’d been able to see Greg’s face when all this had started, when he’d finally walked into the bedroom and seen Greg waiting on the bed on his hands and knees just like Nick had told him to. But Greg had insisted on playing the naughty role today, starting with his damn pranks this morning and then continuing by refusing to listen, to hold still like Nick had asked him to. It was only after he’d flipped Greg over and locked the cuffs in place that he’d realized that maybe Greg had done it for just that reason.

Why Greg couldn’t just say, “Nick, I want you to restrain me and fuck me” was something Nick was going to have to ask him someday when he could get the words out without making a fool of himself by turning a thousand shades of red. He’d settled for undressing after he’d had Greg good and helpless and then maybe letting his hand brush his dick once or twice while Greg could only watch.

His wide eyes and open, wet mouth had kind of said it all, right there.

Yet, Nick was still faced with the choice of what to do now, Greg laid out before him, but being a bad little Greg, laughing when he ought to be begging.

Nick’s hand twitched, his fingers spreading out over Greg’s skin before he could stop himself. Greg was hot, sweaty, and Nick’s fingers slid easily around his hip to his flat stomach, so close to the wet, velvet feel of Greg’s cock. Nick paused there, debating, and then let his thumb glance through the trail of hair, let the back of his hand accidentally brush the head of Greg’s cock before he pulled his hand away.

Greg jumped, and Nick looked up again, watching Greg’s whole body move with each heavy breath he took.

“Say it, Greg,” he ordered again, blushing at how rough his voice was. Greg made a strangled noise, jerking again even though Nick hasn’t touched him. He angled up on his knees, still trying to move, still not answering. But his body shook before he settled down, a fine shiver all along his skin that made Nick want to run a hand down his back, calm him down, ease the ache that had be building from the position he was in.

He put his hands down instead, gasping when he touched himself, letting Greg hear the sound. He’d done it enough now for Greg to know exactly what he was doing, and Greg responded just as he had before, twisting, tossing his head, trying to look.

“Not fair.” The words broke out of Greg, halting and breathless, and Nick had to close to his eyes. He took his hands away, burying them in the bedspread for a moment, holding on because Greg still hadn’t said it, what he had to say for this game to be over.

He’d told Greg, if he were good, he’d let him suck his cock, and he knew Greg wanted it, that it would be incredibly good, leaving Greg cuffed but kneeling over him, sliding his cock slowly between his eager lips, but Greg hadn’t been good, and so he touched himself again, after a moment, biting his lip but not keeping the soft grunt from escaping.

Greg jerked against the cuffs the second he made the noise, arching. The cuffs rattled but Greg’s breathing was even louder.

“Nick,” he whined, his voice hoarse, and even with the memory of no coffee and cold showers, Nick had to move. He leaned over Greg for a moment, running his hands over Greg’s back, between his shoulders, closing his eyes when Greg shuddered, when his hard cock pressed against Greg’s ass for a moment. They both froze, but it was Greg who spoke first, choking.

“Please, Nick,” he begged, the same way he’d begged when Nick had first pulled his clothes off him, on his back on this bed with his legs in the air.

Too easy, Nick had to remind himself, his hands slipping down to the bed as he tried to move away. His body was pounding, tight with this ache that Greg had put there. But he swallowed and held on, pulling back enough to let himself breathe. Greg was the one shaking now and he had to remember that. This was Greg’s game.

“Greg…” he warned, because Greg knew what he wanted. “Just say it.” He ought to move, press his hands over Greg’s nipples again, or risk another touch to his dick, but he couldn’t do it, not with his hands tracing circles over Greg’s skin. Each pass brought another edge to Greg’s voice, to the whimpers that he wasn’t hiding very well anymore, and Nick sat up, getting up onto his knees and staring down at Greg’s trembling body.

Other than in the smallest ways, he hadn’t really touched Greg, not like that, but Greg had been swollen and hard from the second Nick had slapped the cuffs on him, whining slightly when Nick had arranged his body so it was just high enough to keep Greg from rubbing himself off on the mattress. Nick knew he couldn’t last much longer.

“Want me to stop?” Nick never knew his own voice in these moments, but at the gravelly sound Greg sagged against his cuffs and shook his head. A small whimper came from him when Nick still didn’t move, and even without the mirror, Nick knew Greg was biting his lip to keep quiet.

Greg shook his head again, forcefully this time, and wriggled again, awkward on his knees, but beautiful as he spread his legs further apart, stubborn and sexy, but letting Nick have him like that, and really, that was the biggest turn on right there, having Greg trust him so much, even if Nick didn’t know what he’d done to earn it.

Especially considering…well… Nick tore his gaze away from Greg waiting to be taken, to stare at the faint, pink imprint of his hand, flushed and rosy on Greg’s ass. His face ought to be on fire to see it there, to know he had done it, but instead all he can think about it is how Greg had squirmed for it, gasping and thrusting into air with every careful slap.

“Greg.” He warned, one more time, and Greg made a noise, almost a word, but shook his head.

Nick pulled his hand up and brought it back, shifting at the sound it made, skin on skin like that, the shocked moment of stillness from Greg and then the hungry little moan that Greg couldn’t hide.

His mouth fell open but still Nick can’t breathe, even though Greg was the one twisting and pushing against him for more, small, soft words erupting out of him when Nick’s fingers cup his ass and pet the quivering, heated skin.

“S…sorry, Nick.” Greg was spread out and helpless in front of him, Greg was bowed and sweaty and golden and Nick moved his hands and let them tighten on Greg’s hips. He was so hard, so ready, he wanted to slide inside Greg, had promised he would the moment Greg apologize for each and every thing incredibly rude thing he’d done that morning, and Greg had laughed and licked his lips and rubbed against him.

“We’ll see who breaks first this time, Stokes,” Greg had dared him, his words ending in a startled, pleased grunt when Nick had pushed his fingers into his mouth, raging to feel Greg’s tongue curl greedily around his skin.

“Yeah, Greg?” he managed, his own breath rasping in and out of his throat, sweat dripping into his eyes at the long shiver that traveled down Greg’s back. “You have to apologize for everything,” he reminded him, inching forward despite himself, his thighs sticky when they came into contact with Greg’s skin.

He remembered saying the words before, remembered how Greg had answered, serious eyes turning dark suddenly, arching up toward Nick’s face, his mouth begging for a kiss that Nick hadn’t felt he’d deserved. Not yet.

“How can I be sorry when it leads to this?”

“Sorry…Nick,” Greg was going on, stuttering, and Nick had to clench his jaw. He was shaking along with Greg, his hand reaching out, settling on Greg’s back. He knew Greg felt it when his words hitched, his voice rising to let Nick know he meant what he was saying.

“I’m…so…sorry about the shower…and the music…and the lau…the laundry, Nick.”

Nick didn’t care about the laundry, or the shower, or the music, or the coffee for that matter, though he knew Greg had left that one out on purpose. He moved forward again, touching everywhere he could reach for a moment, wrapping his fingers around Greg’s wrists. Pressed against him like that, he felt everything, Greg’s weak, hiccupping breaths, the shudders beneath his skin, the itch of sweat between them.

He wanted to fuck him. He wanted to hear Greg laugh. He tightened his hands instead, because Greg wasn’t done.

“Go on,” he growled out into Greg’s ear, and smiled tensely when Greg arched up, taunting even when he was ready to submit.

“Sorry about the mess in the kitchen,” Greg swore, hot and loud, and Nick didn’t give a damn about the coffee, not enough to wait anyway. He pulled back, searching around in a fever for the bottle he’d left next to them on the mattress. He couldn’t stay still. Greg was the one motionless, completely silent until Nick popped the cap on the bottle and poured cool, slick lubricant over his hands, let it drip down Greg’s ass, where the skin was red and warm.

Greg hissed, startled into action again, shaking with tension that Nick had let build for too long.

“Sorry, Nick, please.” He rocked with the words, pushing, yanking on the cuffs too hard. He’d bruise, and Nick closed his eyes and bent down without thinking, pressed a kiss to the small of Greg’s back, holding there until Greg gulped down a messy, wet breath.

“Nick,” he whined, begged, and Nick imagined his hands white-knuckled on the headboard, trying to hold on longer than he should have had to, for his stupid game, as though he’d wanted this, to end up thrashing and shivering and whimpering Nick’s name.

He can’t speak at the idea, the suspicion that Greg had offered up his self-control like that, can’t do anything but kiss him again, his mouth dropping for a moment over the curved shape of Greg’s ass. There’s salt on his tongue from Greg’s skin, a strange heat, and the distracting taste of fake banana from the lubricant that Greg had obviously picked out.

A sound he’d never heard before burst out of Greg’s mouth, raw with disbelief, and Nick realized exactly how close his mouth was to...everything, and even with everything else, his body was burning at the memory of how Greg had kissed him there the night before, just put his mouth there, right there, as though it was nothing, creating these hot, shocking streaks of pleasure through him, so good he had buried his face in a pillow, tried to stifle the moans that had come out anyway, loud and embarrassing.

“Nick,” Greg breathed out, carefully, pleading, and shifted again, “Nick, please, I can’t…”

“Just can’t what?” Nick snapped his head up with a frown that he didn’t mean and Greg couldn’t see, shoving away the thoughts of the night before.

“Can’t wait,” Greg answered instantly, giving in like he’d never even thought about fighting “Just fuck me.”

“Nick,” he panted a moment later when Nick slid two slicked-up fingers inside of him, “Nicknicknicknick,” he tossed his head, held still, moved at last as Nick stretched him, thrust back onto his fingers. “Sor…Nick…just…” Greg quivered, breathing harsh around words that stopped making sense, just grunting when Nick kept on stroking him, when he dropped his other hand to curve around his hipbone.

“Like that?” Nick can’t help teasing him again, even when his voice was too uneven to be light. He had to take his hands away to put the condom on, has to add more lube, each touch to his dick making him flinch, fumble impatiently.

Greg couldn’t see, but he jerked back again, pulled too hard on the restraints, then just gasped and shivered with stillness as Nick pushed inside of him. He was all the way in before Greg spoke again.

“Love this,” he answered slow, and then too fast, shuddering. “Love this, love yo…” Greg stopped, breathing so fiercely his whole body moved with it. He was pounding heat around Nick, a match to the sudden kick of panic in Nick’s chest, the throb of his heart in his ears.

Greg never made sense when he was close to coming. Nick knew that, repeated it to himself because he knew he ought to ignore it, that Greg didn’t mean it.

Greg wasn’t lifting his head, wasn’t laughing, and Nick frowned, surging up over him, shutting his eyes as he reached around for Greg’s cock. Greg jerked against him immediately, just as helpless as before, but Nick turned his face until his mouth was at Greg’s neck.

His lips parted, but when nothing came out of his locked throat, he closed them. Then he moved, pulled back and listened to Greg’s breathing. Listened to it because Greg had offered up that by wanting this, and had offered up almost everything by giving him this. Almost everything, but Nick wasn’t going to demand now, not when each shiver was his, light through him as he clutched at Greg’s hip and started to fuck him.

The first few thrusts had Greg whimpering again, had Nick’s vision going white at each sound, his voice straining higher when Nick hit his prostate. “Nick…” Greg tried again, his voice rasping when Nick’s mouth found the back of his neck again. “Nick I didn’t…”

“Shut up, Greg,” Nick bit out, shocking himself, and ran his palm over the wet, shivering skin of Greg’s dick. He gripped it tighter when half-words continued to spill out of Greg’s mouth, pulling in time to the sweet glide in and out of Greg’s ass, pushing just enough to have Greg gasping, shaking, going crazy in his arms. He wanted that, Greg out of control underneath him, apologizing and begging and saying his name, choking as he finally arched up and came.

The words streamed out, too fast for Nick to understand, but he kept his eyes closed as he brought his other hand to Greg’s hip and curved his body up, held him closer as he slid in one more time, as everything became just the light and the fire of Greg beneath him.

He opened his eyes only a minute or two later, aware that he was leaning on Greg, that Greg’s position had to be painful by now, even without his weight on him. But he winced as he pulled out and away. He dealt with the condom while still kneeling on the bed, checked the cap on the lubricant bottle to make sure it wasn’t spilling, set it carefully down.

Then he looked up.

Greg was stretched out and panting, red and gold, glowing with the sheen of sweat. His arms were shaking minutely, and Nick swore out loud, frowning when the sound made Greg flinch. But he climbed over to the nightstand and grabbed the key to the cuffs that were actual work cuffs, that he should have never used on Greg like that.

He had the lock undone in a second and then tossed the damn things to the floor. Greg immediately collapsed onto the bed, as heavy and lazy as he always was after sex, but still breathing hard, keeping his eyes closed as though he was going to fall asleep when everything about him said he was wide awake.

Nick studied him for a moment before taking his gaze away and taking Greg’s hands carefully into his, using the fact that Greg was always became a uselessly attractive lump of clay after sex to turn his hands over and look for signs of bruising.

His skin was red though it didn’t look too bad, yet, but Greg’s eyes were still shut. He was breathing too hard to be sleeping, and watching his face made Nick’s stomach twist and his heart beat faster.

He looked away, at the mess of laundry still undone on the floor including the one clean shirt he had been going to wear to work, at the alarm clock, which was also reminding him that he still had to report in today, and that now he had to go through his routine all over again, though at least with hot water this time.

But he stayed where he was, crouched over their pillows as his breathing slowed, while he watched Greg’s slow as well. Then he cleared his throat.

Greg’s eyes opened.

“I gotta…” Nick announced the second Greg’s wary stare hit him. He gestured at the bathroom, then scrambled backwards off the bed when Greg blinked.

As soon as he was up, Greg rolled onto his side, wincing when he ended up in a wet spot, or maybe at the burn of overworked muscles. He was still flushed, red in certain places from what Nick had done to him, his mouth dark and swollen from his own teeth, from trying to hold back... Which obviously hadn’t worked, and what kind of twisted game was that for Greg to play with himself anyway? He’d wanted Nick to make him lose control.

“Greg,” Nick tried then clenched his jaw when Greg gave him a shrug and a careless half-smile. Except it wasn’t careless at all, because if Nick had learned anything from living with Greg—and they were living together, even if neither of them had ever said a word about it—it was that Greg said things with sex that Nick wouldn’t even dare with words, and that it was always a big deal to Greg, even if he never let on.

Nick stomped over to the bed without thinking about how stupid he must look, stomping anywhere when he was buck-naked, but though Greg’s eyes widened he didn’t get a single word out, and he didn’t struggle when Nick tugged him into a sitting position. That Greg still trusted him after everything sucked all the heat out of Nick’s face, left his stomach just as knotted and cold as it had been before, and he reached out, wrapping his arms around the warmth of Greg’s body.

He grunted at Greg’s weight when he pulled him to his feet; Greg was a full grown man and taller than he was after all, but he hauled him up anyway, only straining a little.

Greg’s arms slid around him without protest, Greg’s head dropping against his neck even if Greg had the sense to leave his feet on the floor.

He was frowning, Nick could feel that, but he allowed himself to be led anyway, not speaking until they were both inside the bathroom and Nick had deposited Greg on the toilet.

“Nick?” Greg started the second they were apart, licking his lips. “Is this about…?” He didn’t finish but Nick shot him a look before he ducked inside the shower. He started the water and waited there with his hand out, listening to Greg’s breathing quicken again.

There was hot water now all right. Nick grunted again, somewhat satisfied with the temperature before he twisted the cold knob a little and arranged the showerhead and then turned back. Greg was just sitting on the toilet, staring down at Nick’s feet, though he his head snapped up when Nick stepped back and moved his hands over Greg’s skin, smoothing over goose bumps, the feel of his ribs, getting a good hold on his sides. Nick was the one keeping his head down, not really wanting see the alarm on Greg’s face that he could hear in his voice.

“The water’s not still cold, is it?” Greg got out and then fell against him with a sigh when the hot spray hit them both. Nick closed the door with one hand and then lifted his head, letting the water splash over his face, wet his hair.

Greg had just washed and styled his hair before all this, and it was a mess again now, dripping product into Greg’s face, not that Greg seemed to notice. He was staring at Nick, shivering a little as his body adjusted to the temperature change.

Nick tried a smile, tried to go for reassuring, but he couldn’t seem to make it work with Greg’s eyes round and steady on him like that. He coughed and reached for the soap instead. Of course, then he had to pause, because Greg used some fancy liquid soap and this little puffy, scratchy thing that he said made his skin soft. Nick frowned at it, tried to imagine using it—it was pink—and then just went for the soap by itself.

There was still lube on his hands, slick now that it was wet again, but he let a mountain of Greg’s soap fall onto his palms before setting the bottle down.

Without Nick holding onto him, Greg had fallen back against the tiled wall, and through the streams washing down his face he was watching Nick. He licked his lips again, once, and Nick leaned in, kissing his mouth the way he hadn’t before, his slippery hands smoothing over Greg’s shoulders. The clean scent was warm in the air, and maybe that was why the anxious, tight feeling inside Nick eased.

Greg’s lips opened, trusting even when confused, and Nick slid away, moving back a second later when Greg groaned.

“Killing me,” Greg whispered, startling Nick into lifting his head, slowing his hands.

“What?” He needed to know and Greg’s mouth quirked up slightly.

“All this great sex,” Greg joked, or he meant it, Nick wasn’t sure. But Nick ducked his head, ran his tongue over his mouth and wondering if he’d imagined the taste of blood on Greg’s lips, hoping he had.

He kept his eyes down though Greg was watching him. He was resting against the wall while Nick soaped up his arms, under his arms, down his sides to where Greg was ticklish. He stopped there for more soap, guiding his hands up Greg’s back to his shoulder blades, pressing harder there for a moment to loosen sore muscles. Then he dropped his hands to his lower back, gentling his touch when Greg winced, just a little. A few slow, soft passes with the heel of his hand and Greg was shivering again.

“You need to get ready for work,” Greg reminded him quietly, his words shifting into a painfully relieved gasp when Nick poured more soap into his palms and ran his hands up and down Greg’s spine, searching for any remaining knots of tension.

Greg could speak. Greg could probably stand on his own now, but maybe Greg knew what he needed the way he’d known what Greg had needed on their bed. Or maybe Greg just liked it; Nick moved his hands slowly over Greg’s ass, rubbing away all the traces of lubricant, his own handprints.

His fingers brushed over the loose, sensitive ring of muscle that he’d pounded into just a few minutes before, and Greg winced again, a pain that Nick knew. It didn’t matter, not really but he couldn’t help wincing too.

He buried his face in Greg’s shoulder and touched the spot again. Greg tensed up and then relaxed against him, a rough sound in his throat that Nick had heard before, in their bed just a few minutes ago.

“Did I hurt you?” He had to ask, not really sure what he’d said until Greg shook his head.

“Not like…no.” Greg was starting and stopping in a way he hadn’t done since their first night together, though Nick could hear the words he was holding back anyway, knew exactly what he’d done by freaking out on Greg again. He couldn’t look up and pressed his mouth to Greg’s shoulder, then dropped his head, putting his mouth over the tight pink of Greg’s nipples, licking up the water.

Greg’s hand found its way into his hair, but Nick moved on before it could linger, pressing a kiss to Greg’s stomach, along the trail of hair, ending up on his knees on the tile, guaranteeing he’d be sore tonight, as if he’d had any doubt after the exertions from last night.

“Killing me,” Greg said again, surprised, and though Nick still wasn’t sure he was any good at it, he put his mouth around the soft length of Greg’s dick. It tasted strange to him, not bad or good, but…different. He imagined his hand there, where his mouth was now, knew this had to be bordering on painful for Greg, at least at first, but Greg was just watching him, frowning slightly.

When their eyes met Greg blinked, and Nick took in the sight of him, water stuck in his eyelashes, his hair dripping and dark and long enough to touch his cheekbones. Desire shot through him, a faint spark but enough to make him blink too. He slid back, Greg’s cock popping out of his mouth as he swallowed, licking that taste from his lips.

He brought his mouth back in the next second and closed his eyes. Greg made a noise again, not that noise but still a good noise, a noise that meant he liked when Nick put his mouth on his dick even if Nick didn’t really know what he was doing, even when he knew he’d never be as good at this as Greg. Nick slid his mouth down, and then up, blushing hotly when he heard himself making noises too, when he sucked the flushing, thickening length between his lips and against his tongue and felt it twitch.

“Nick…” Greg seemed uncertain, and Nick squeezed his eye shut even more at that, felt another surprising streak of need at Greg’s gentle little push forward. That was good, had to be good, and it felt right somehow, using his slick lips to get Greg’s cock hard again, to make Greg make those noises, to make him speak.

He wanted to tell Greg to say it again, to say anything, but aside from his name Greg was staying quiet.

If it was a game, he would have known what to do, would have known that Greg was holding back again on purpose, that it was his job to make Greg do what Nick wanted, but he pulled his head away and shook it at the thought of torturing Greg again, staring for a moment at the streak of his spit, shiny on the head of Greg’s cock.

He moved back, using his tongue to lick that away, swallowing the droplets of salt. Greg shook; Nick could see him trembling, felt the uneven touch across his head, and he arched up on his knees just to put his mouth to Greg’s skin. That made Greg shake too, his blood pounding just below the surface, under Nick’s lips.

If this was a game, he would have pulled away like Greg always did, demanding something from him before he brought his mouth back, and he wondered if Greg was waiting for that. But he just breathed out when he tried to say anything. He didn’t need to hear anything from Greg; he already knew it all.

But the pink scrubbing thing must work, because Greg was soft all over, and when Nick shaped the words he couldn’t say against Greg’s hip, Greg was warm and smooth.

His body was starting to ache, his muscles still pulling after last night, and Nick closed his eyes at the memory of Greg sliding inside of him. It had burned, stretched him in ways Nick hadn’t thought he could stretch, and yet all he had been able to do was close his eyes and listen to how Greg had panted in his ear. He’d been hard while Greg fucked him, hard from before when Greg had put his mouth on his ass and kissed it, sucked it, all sorts of things that should have been obscene, but now just made Nick hungry, curious, almost hard again despite everything.

He brought his hands up and held tight for a moment, sucking a hickey onto Greg’s thigh as he realized that Greg had left finger-shaped bruises on his hips too, that when he had finally given in and begged Greg to fuck him harder Greg had made that same sound, shocked, disbelieving, hot, and Nick knew without any words what that had meant to Greg.

He wanted that sound again.

He arched up again, squeezing Greg’s legs for one desperate moment, then turned his head, his mouth. He couldn’t open his eyes if he’d wanted to. He didn’t need to.

“Nick?” Greg tried and twitched forward again when Nick brought his hands around his cup his ass, round, firm cheeks, red from a spanking. He could have pulled Greg to him, could have let Greg push his cock down his throat until he gagged, and it was maybe still a little surprising just how willing he was for Greg to do that, but Greg was pulling gently at his hair, his voice too even when he whispered Nick’s name.

Nick brushed his fingers down the crack of Greg’s ass, felt Greg jump against him a second before he pushed forward. “Nick,” he said again, and that was good, but it wasn’t what Nick was after here. He did it again, wanting to push inside the way he always did. He knew Greg would let him, that Greg was practically asking him to now, that a few fingers inside, stroking, would have Greg spilling all over the shower in no time at all.

He opened his mouth when Greg mumbled something too low for him to hear, because he could feel it under his tongue, rumbling and quiet, and the taste of soap and skin hit him again. He was hard, unbelievably hard just from putting his mouth all over Greg, less than an hour after coming, and so was Greg.

Nick tore his head away and opened his eyes. When he looked up, Greg’s face was closed tight, his lower lip between his teeth, and Nick couldn’t help pushing out a breath at the sharp lance of pain through him. His mouth was open, but he shut it when the words flowed like salt across his tongue and put his face back to Greg’s cock.

He sucked it between his lips, drinking the taste, swallowing the rasping, heavy sounds of Greg’s breathing, but it wasn’t enough to drown the ache stuck in his throat. Not enough, and he ran his hands across Greg’s back, curled his fingers into his hips and then before he could think to stop he shoved Greg away, urged him around to face the wall, not surprised that though Greg didn’t understand he still allowed it.

It was rough and not what he wanted, but he didn’t stop, leaning forward to press a kiss over rounded flesh.

Greg bit out a word, and Nick’s teeth slid out, pushing softly into the skin until Greg whined and fell forward against the tile. There was water splashing onto Greg’s back, spraying down over Nick’s head. He could feel lingering soap bubbles trickling past his cheeks, and Greg shivering, waiting silently.

He used his tongue first, careful, shy, the way he remembered licking Greg’s cock for the first time. He’d been frowning, burning with embarrassment, Greg’s legs on either side of him, but burning more to see Greg immediately throw his head back and groan like he was dying.

The sound he made now was just as pitiful, just as sexy, and Nick squeezed his eyes shut even tighter and brought this tongue back, licking across skin he knew was already sensitive and raw. There was another sound, a new one, muffled and echoing off tile, and then another, like the motion of slick, wet hands trying to hold onto something, and when Nick dragged his tongue over Greg’s hole a third time, Greg gasped his name.

He knew how it felt, remembered only too well the bright, arcing pleasure of Greg tonguing his asshole, and Nick shook his head, withdrawing his tongue and putting his whole mouth there. When he breathed out, Greg shivered, and he heard the sound of Greg fumbling again, his hands grasping at any part of the shower wall he could hold onto.

That was what he wanted, what he couldn’t say, and so Nick breathed carefully over the skin he just wet with his mouth, risking another swipe with his tongue after a moment and on fire to hear himself grunting against Greg’s ass, his back twisted in a kind of agony.

He had done this with his fingers, always did before he finally thrust inside Greg, and each time Greg as he had slowly eased his way in he had felt the loosening of the muscle, the small quivers adjusting around him. He could push inside right now, with his fingers, even his cock, but he wasn’t moving, not like that.

He pushed, just a little, with his tongue instead, and though Greg jerked, he also gave right there, right there, letting Nick inside. Nick pulled back instantly, hesitating, breathing hard, but his body was tight with the need to get closer, to get in, and Greg was quiet and shaking, his skin warm and wet.

Nick slid his hands to Greg’s sides, scrambling at Greg’s hips for a moment when he thought he might fall, holding steady when one of Greg’s hands came around to rest over his.

“Greg,” he wanted to say, but couldn’t now, not like he was with Greg spread and open under his mouth, panting so loudly that the rush of water around them was nothing.

It trickled down from Greg’s back, and Nick lapped it up, trembling when he lingered, when he felt the familiar quiver of muscle but under his tongue; Greg wanted him in, and after a few moments he pushed forward again, probing gently, everything tight and then suddenly hot and welcoming all at once. Greg’s fingers gripped his hard enough to break, and when he grunted Greg let go, pushing forward to rub himself against the wall, forcing Nick to follow him.

Greg made a noise, that noise, growling and fierce and still so new Nick almost opened his eyes. It was his name and a hundred other words, locked down in Greg’s throat, and Nick swallowed, his chest burning. He couldn’t pull away, not yet.

“Say it,” he wanted to order, but only heard himself groaning, moving his mouth restlessly over Greg’s ass before thrusting his tongue back inside, “Say it again, Greg.” Greg hadn’t done that to him, hadn’t done anything like this, but Greg wasn’t stopping him, and Nick wasn’t stopping himself, his hands crushing Greg’s hips as he slid his tongue in and out.

His body was thrusting too, jerking up into nothing, but there was no way he was taking a hand from Greg yet, not with Greg rocking back and forth between him and the wall, his breath coming in ragged little gasps that sounded like words this time, maybe only in Nick’s head as he pulled back to suck hard at the loose ring of muscle.

He was wriggling his tongue back inside while Greg was still shuddering against the wall, inching his way forward with every shocked murmur that Greg gave to the tile that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, what he needed.

Nick grabbed what he wanted this time, dragging Greg back to him, his body sore with Greg’s weight, his mouth aching as he used it fuck Greg’s ass, and still he could feel a rumbling in his chest, against his skin, words taking too long to come out, to reach him.

“Say it.” He heard even with his mouth full, his tongue busy, and Greg’s arm jerked as Greg began to stroke himself. But his voice was hard, loud and rough when he spoke, making Nick shake.

“Say it, Nick,” Greg ordered him, because Greg said things with sex but Nick liked words, even those words. His heart was pounding, blood rushing past his ears like the water streaming down on them, and Nick curled his fingers into Greg’s skin and held on.

His tongue felt stiff, but Greg was trembling too, calling out his name and even with his eyes closed Nick could see the pleasure bursting out of him, hear the need in his voice.

Greg was braced, ready with his legs spread and his ass open, his demand getting louder as he worked his hand over his cock.

“Say it,” Greg ordered, breathless, and when Nick withdrew his tongue, Greg shuddered so hard that Nick opened his eyes. His mouth moved almost silently, breath escaping over the wet hole, and then he bent his head to kiss the soft ring, his lips just as soft as Greg arched up and came, choking on Nick’s name.

He was sagging in the next moment, his heavy body forcing Nick to move, to sit back down onto his knees, and for a minute Greg just held his hands out against the wall and breathed hard.

Nick couldn’t really seem to breathe either. His body, his lower back was knotted with a pain that was only going to get worse, but Nick stayed where he was, how he was, his mouth open and feeling almost bruised, his tongue twitching out to wet his lips before he could think better of it.

He knew he ought to stand up, but instead he stayed on his knees to watch Greg straighten up and turn around, blinking once or twice to see Greg staying on his feet after an orgasm.

The water bouncing off Greg’s chest must have been getting colder. Nick’s gaze strayed to the peaks of Greg’s nipples, the mess of semen across his belly that was getting washed to the floor, but when Greg cleared his throat he looked back up.

Greg’s eyes were just as gorgeous as ever, amused and sleepy, and when he finally spoke again, he returned his hands to Nick’s head, petting through the wet hair Nick that had gotten buzzed too short during his last haircut.

“Say it, Nick,” Greg ordered as his hands grew still. His voice was so tight that Nick knew it was hard for him to speak at all. But the knowing glitter in his eyes said it was strange that Nick had even considered fighting, that he would try to deny it now after getting down on his knees in the first place, after staying down on his knees. Because Nick didn’t even have the excuse of being restrained to explain himself.

It was all pretty damn obvious, not even a game could have hidden it for long, and Nick shifted until his mouth was pressed to Greg’s skin again. He breathed out, his face on fire.

“I love you too, Greg,” he offered, then coughed when he tension slid right out of him, left him shivering, his mouth curving up. “But you still have to do the laundry.”

He laughed at the familiar sound from Greg, shocked, disbelieving, hot. A second later Greg tumbled down to join him on the floor, exhausted and wet and wide-eyed. He huffed out one irritated, pouting sigh. He was beautiful, even though he still couldn’t manage to get his words out this time, because Nick thought his face kind of said it all anyway, right there.

Next story in series - Love Game.