Title: Crossing the Picket Line
By: staticdisturbed
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: Greg goes on strike from....you know...until Nick shaves that thing off his face.
Rating: PG-13
AN: Um this is my attempt at humor fic which I normally don't write and I wrote it in like ten minutes because the idea wouldn't leave me alone. It should've been checked and edited but I just don't feel like it :)

***

"I'm home G!" Nick wriggled out of his jacket and toed off his boots neatly by the front door, taking the time to kick Greg's sneakers, kicked off haphazardly of course, from the middle of the floor.

He entered the living room and found Greg on the couch, remote control in hand, flipping by channels without taking the time to see what he was missing. The younger man barely acknowledged his presence, keeping his eyes glued to the ever-changing screen. Nick wracked his brain trying to think of something he might have done wrong but came up blank. "What gives? You've been giving me the cold shoulder all day" he flopped onto the couch and draped an arm over Greg's shoulder, which was instantaneously pushed off.

"I'm on strike" Greg spoke for the first time, his voice firm and to the point. Nick shook his head and let out a confused sigh.

"What?"

"I'm on strike. Until you shave that small shrub off your face you aren't getting any of this" Greg gestured to his body and Nick had to bite back his laughter.

"You said you liked it this morning". Greg glared and shook his head.

"You know not to ask me questions before I've had my coffee, you might as well be talking to a tree. You tricked me into saying that, it would never hold up in court". Nick would have laughed if Greg wasn't wearing his determined face.

"Greg could you at least look at me" he reached for his boyfriend's chin and felt a slap at his hands.

"No touching. No touching, no kissing, no rubbing and certainly no sex, not until it's gone" Greg folded his arms over his chest rigidly and stared at the TV screen. Nick rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushions.

"Great, my boyfriend's turned into a teamster". Greg turned towards him sharply.

"My boyfriend's turned into a porn star!" Nick raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"G, you like porn stars"

"In porn!" Greg defended, "Porn stars belong in porn, not at home, not at the dinner table, not in the car…"

"You sound like a really twisted Doctor Seuss" Nick had to interrupt and felt a small thrill of victory when he saw the grin tug at Greg's lips before it was hidden by a frown.

"The point is I would never fall in love with a porn star…and I certainly don't watch bad mustache porn" Greg huffed and reached for the remote. "Now if you don't mind I'm going to watch some TV". For several quiet minutes Nick stared at the side of Greg's head, could tell by the way he was pretending to be very interested in whatever the woman on TV was cooking that he wasn't interested at all. Suddenly Nick was overtaken with inspiration. He tucked one leg beneath himself and leaned in close to the other man.

"No touching" Greg warned and Nick smirked, got his body as close to Greg's as he could without them actually coming in contact.

"I'm not touching you," he whispered softly, letting his breath tickle the younger mans ear. He and Greg had been together for a long time and he knew that a sure fire way to get the younger man turned on was to whisper in his ear.

"You're cheating" Greg whined breathlessly and Nick smirked, blew gently onto his boyfriend's neck.

"I can't cheat, I'm not playing. This is your game" bravely Nick let his finger skim down over the skin of Greg's forearm. "It's been a long day baby, I was really looking forward to coming home. I've been thinking about you all day, about coming home and undressing you…"

"No fair!" Greg jumped to his feet and Nick slumped in defeat, until he saw that his attempt at getting Greg to cross the picket line had had some affect. He smiled and climbed to his feet.

"Greg you're being silly. It's just a mustache. I like it. I never once complained when you shaved lines into the side of your head or combed it into a shark fin…"

"Faux-hawk"

"Whatever. It's just a mustache and I like it" so maybe he was guilt tripping Greg a little but he knew if he let this little game continue Greg might stay on ‘strike' for days, possibly longer. But he wasn't expecting Greg to come charging across the room and attack him with his lips. After a lengthy session of tongue-against-tongue Nick pulled away and grinned.

"You know you're crossing the picket line. The union would have your ass for that". Greg shook his head.

"Screw the union, and you're the only one having my ass". Nick laughed whole-heartedly.

"That was bad G".

"So is moustache porn… what do ya say we go make some?"

***