Title: Completely Forgot the Soup
By: Read 300300
R
Nick/Greg
Clothing Challenge
Disclaimer: I don't own.
Summary: Greg's sick and staying over at Nick's.

Greg stood and paced for a few minutes more, shivering lightly even though it was nearly eighty degrees inside Nick's house. Even wrapped up in blankets, he was still cold, and he blamed the fever.

Ever since he had woken up earlier that night at Nick's house and discovered he was running a fever with his temperature at a hundred, he had felt horrible. All he wanted to do was go home and fall into bed, but Nick had decided that he was in no condition to drive home. Besides, Nick's place was closer to the lab, after all; if Greg got to feeling so bad that he thought he needed a doctor, then Nick could easily swing by and pick him up.

As it was, Greg just alternatively curled up on the couch and paced to feel warm again, but eventually, he began to feel the slight stirrings of hunger. Realizing that there was nothing decent on TV at three in the morning and never would be, he stood and made his way into the kitchen to put some chicken and rice soup on. Soup was his one comfort when he sick, well, besides Nick, but due to Grissom being a jerk about the whole thing and not letting Nicky stay home from work while Greg was out too, he couldn't have his lover. No, he had to settle for soup and infomercials.

With a resigned sigh, he opened the third drawer from the right and automatically pulled out the can-opener before taking the top off the can and putting in into a bowl, which he then easily transferred into the microwave. He set the machine on for five minutes and then leaned against the counter with a thud, spending the time humming along to the music playing in his mind.

"And let them take somebody else, get away… And watch me fault her…" He sang quietly, watching the seconds move down slowly on the microwave. "You're living like a disaster…"

Finally, after three minutes, he got fed up with it and realized that warm soup was just as good as hot, and maybe even better because he wouldn't burn his tongue on it. He opened the door and went to grab the bowl, completely forgetting the little oven mitten he needed so that he could transfer it safely to the plate. With a start, he set the very hot bowl back down but not before he could stop a large amount of the soup from sloshing onto his clothes.

He winced as he felt the liquid begin to seep through his shirt and pants; slowly, his garments were becoming a wet, icky mess. To top it all off, this was the only clothing he had at Nick's; he hadn't been planning on staying long, but then he had fallen asleep and woken up feeling sick.

Quickly, he moved over to the phone and dialed Nick's cell, wanting to be certain that he could borrow some of Nick's clothing before just going through his stuff and randomly taking something. Taking the phone, he moved into the bedroom and took off his shirt, not waiting for the mess to soak all the way through to his skin.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah, Greg? You doing okay?" There was blatant concern in the man's voice.

"Um… yeah, fine, fine. There was just a little accident and I spilled something. I was wondering if you had any spare clothes I could borrow?" He felt stupid asking, and he knew that he would have never lived it down had something like that happened at the lab. After all, he was supposed to be trained to safely handle hot liquids, and yet….

"Of course. Uh… there should be some stuff in that third drawer that should fit you. It's from a few years back, and it's a bit smaller than my other clothing." Nick sounded obviously relieved that nothing else was the matter.

"Oh, okay, thanks!"

"Sure. Hey, Greg, I've got to go. I'm supposed to be taking samples here. I'll see you later though."

"Later," Greg hung up the phone before walking into the bathroom and throwing his shirt into the white hamper, watching as the lid toppled slowly over and closed from the force of the material against the plastic. He shivered again as he pulled his comfortable pants and boxers off; lifting the hard lid again to the upright position, he threw the rest of his clothes in, figuring that he would get them later.

He wandered back into the bedroom and pulled open the third drawer, grabbing it by the silver handles and pulling. Tucked neatly inside were pairs of sweatpants, pajamas, and shirts. He sifted through them, pulling out a few things that were his size and felt as though they would be comfortable. Out of the stuff that would fit him the best, he held up a few of the shirts, noting that each held a faintly soapy scent to it, except for one. It, unlike the others, smelled of Nick. He smiled, knowing that is was stupid to wear something that smelled like his lover did just because he liked falling asleep in Nick's arms. And maybe this was an bittersweet second, if he couldn't have the first on his list and just sleep with his lover.

With a happy sigh, he pulled on the deep blue pajama pants and the matching intense gray and dark blue sweatshirt emblazoned with a shield and three owls, surrounded in a seal marker. He put the rest of the stuff up and closed the drawer, only now noticing that the long-sleeved shirt was still very loose on him, even though it was the smallest in the drawer. Oh, well, he decided, at least he was comfortable in it.

Sighing, he stumbled towards the bed, completely forgetting the soup he had wanted to eat, curling up in the covers and falling asleep seconds after noticing that pulling the cover tight around him made him feel as though Nick were sleeping curled up around him.

~*~*~

Greg woke up to the sounds of someone setting down a tray near his head and yawned. He pulled the covers down slowly from where they had gotten tangled up in his tossing and turnings so that he could see Nick.

His eyelashes fluttered sleepily as he sat up, rubbing his eyes, a hand moving to run through his hair, which was already mussed beyond repair. He smiled slightly but faltered as he saw the look in Nick's dark brown eyes.

Greg could tell the instant the glance changed, when his lover's look became predatory.

He had to admit that it both scared and excited him slightly at the same time, but he tried to remain calm and neutral. Maybe he was just imagining the slightly shocked, slightly angry look the other was giving him.

"Is that my sweatshirt?" Nick's voice was low, almost purring, his gaze clearly directed towards the crest on the warm top. He asked in a somewhat sharper tone, "Are you wearing my sweatshirt?"

"Um, yeah," Greg couldn't suppress another yawn, even as he realized that this new Nick was a little scary, arousing in a confusing way. "I'm feeling a lot better though… Maybe I should go home and, you know, sleep in my own bed."

He moved to stand but was surprised when Nick's arm shot out to push him back down.

"Mmm-uhhh. You're not moving, not out of this bed anyway," a light hand ran over Greg's cheek, obviously enjoying the touch of skin against skin. "Not while wearing that, you aren't."

"N-Nick?" Greg flinched a little in surprise as Nick climbed into the bed with him. Now, he could clearly see his lover's visible erection tenting his black pants, and things were starting to make a lot more sense in his head. "You okay?"

"Fine, fine… Are you feeling up to it?" Nick asked, ghosting two fingers down Greg's arm, clearly enjoying the feeling of the material against his sensitive fingers.

"Sure-" Greg was cut off by Nick's mouth pressing firmly against his, the other's hands already roaming over his body through the thick, warm fabric.

In the back of his mind, he made a note to wear Nick's clothing more often.

"Sure-"

Nick cut him off then, forcefully locking lips with the younger man. He smiled inwardly when Greg happily responded, bringing his arms to wrap around Nick's neck. He leaned closer, giving the other what he wanted as their tongues dueled.

After a few minutes, Nick pulled away with a low moan, his hands coming up to stop Greg from recapturing his lips. He knew that he needed the younger man's permission for what he was about to do.

"I-I want to tie you up again," he murmured, running a hand possessively down Greg's side.

"What?" He was obviously shocked by Nick's request, and the older man knew that it was because he hadn't been asked for this in many months.

"Please, Greg, I wouldn't ask if it weren't something I really wanted." He could see the indecision in his partner's face turn into acceptance.

"Fine," he replied, smiling a little; Nick knew that it was to disguise his nervousness about the older man's behavior.

He knew that his actions must have seemed out of place: usually, he was caring and affectionate, reserving his more predatory side for the brief occasions when he just couldn't stand not to let out a little steam. He had a real fetish about having his lover marked as his own; seeing Greg in his old sweatshirt had sparked something deep within him, something primal. Those clothes told him that Greg irrevocably belonged to him, just as he belonged to the other man.

"Don't worry; I'm going to take good care of you. I promise that you'll like it. Remember? You liked it before," he gave his reassurances, making sure that Greg looked him in the eye.

"Yeah, I remember." He smiled for real this time, offering up his hands. "Do it…"

Nick pushed them back down and then let them go; he wanted to make sure that Greg was as turned on as he was before they began the rougher play. "Not yet. In a little while."

He leaned back down and kissed him again, taking the lead and maneuvering the pajama pants Greg was wearing down as far as he could get them without breaking the kiss, smiling faintly when the younger man twisted so that they would go the rest of the way down. As he leaned down to suckle the lab tech's neck, he felt an answering hardness press upwards against his leg as Greg arched.

Nick loved it when Greg was responsive, but he had plans for those pants and couldn't afford to waste time looking for them later.

He ran his hand under the sweatshirt, twisting lightly on the younger man's nipples as he grabbed the pants with his free left hand before they could fall off the bed and then tossed them over to the side.

Stokes pulled back and smirked when he felt Greg's hands come up to undo the buttons on his light blue shirt, helping out the fumbling hands as best as he could. In frustration, he left the last five or so buttons and just pulled the shirt over the top of his head, tossing it aside and not really caring when he heard it knock a lamp over.

Nick moaned when he felt eager hands move down to free his erection, the slight pull of the fabric sending a light shiver down his spine. As much as he loved it when Greg touched him, he knew now was the time he had been waiting for. He stilled the questing hands and pulled them upwards, holding them still with his left hand as his right fumbled for the pajama bottoms. Using them as a sort of rope, he twisted and tied until Greg's hands were firmly secured to the bed. Noting the slight traces of trepidation creeping into the dark brown eyes beneath him, he lightly kissed Greg's forehead and ran a hand through the spiky hair before moving to where he was straddling the bound man's hips.

"I think you forgot to take my shirt off," Greg laughed, mirth replacing all sense of fear in his eyes.

"Nope, didn't forget. You're keeping it on," He smiled back when a shudder ran through the younger man. It was nice to know that Greg was appreciative of his kinks; from his reactions, Nick could tell that Greg was getting off on this as much as he was. It was such a shame, he thought, that Greg wouldn't give in to this side of himself more easily. "But I didn't tell you that you could speak, now, did I?"

The mouth beneath him opened to respond before it shut hastily, Greg obviously realizing that was supposed to be a hint. Instead, he shook his head vigorously.

"Good. If you can't keep your mouth shut, then I'm going to have to gag you. Can you keep silent?" Nick asked, staring straight into Greg's eyes.

Greg hesitated and then slowly shook his head as he bit his lip.

Nick felt another surge of heat through his loins as he took in the fact that his lover was willing to be perfectly honest with him; he groaned, unable to suppress the sound. Fighting the urge to just rip off his pants and take Greg at that moment, he rolled off the bed, careful not to crush his bound lover in the process.

Standing, he made his way to the foot of the bed so that he was in Greg's direct line of vision as he slowly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants; slipping them off slowly, he made certain that his younger lover was watching him as every inch of skin was revealed. From here, he could see Greg's cock jutting upwards proudly, a single drop of precum beginning to run down the head of the deep red organ; Nick knew he would never tire of that image. Once his pants had fallen to the floor, he kicked them away; the change inside his pocket jingled as the material moved over the carpet. He went to work teasing Greg, pulling his boxers down leisurely as he reveled in the small moans and pleas his lover was making.

He finally got them off, leaving them where they were on the floor as he quickly removed his socks. Picking the soft grey boxers up again, he wadded them into a ball as he walked quickly back towards the bed.

He leaned over and whispered, "Open wide, G."

When Greg, complied, he gently stuffed the most of the material into the younger man's mouth. Running a soothing hand over Greg's forehead, he noticed that the fever seemed to have lessened, now leaving the skin at its normal temperature.

Smiling, he pulled back, ignoring the questioning look that the younger man was giving him; he gazed downwards, looking at the gorgeous picture Greg made: cock erect and dripping, face flushed lightly from arousal, framed and bound in Nick's old school colors, deep brown eyes wide and staring into his own… Nick had to close his eyes and take a few calming breaths so that he could make this last longer.

Sighing in contentment, he sat down on the bed next to Greg, angling his body so that he could run a hand down the blue-clad chest before sneaking underneath the shirt to play with one of the already erect nipples. He loved touching the other man's body softly, casually, when Greg had no choice but to take it without trying to do the same for Nick.

He furrowed his brow in slight confusion when his hand ran into a section that was heated slightly more than the rest; using both of his hands, he raised the shirt, understanding dawning as he saw the reddened area.

"This is where you spilled the soup, right?" He asked, not expecting an answer as he leaned down and began to lick around the burn softly, circling it with his own heated tongue before finally licking across it. Noting the way his lover arched into him at the contact, he did it again, this time focusing solely on the afflicted area.

He knew that he had stumbled upon something when that produced a small, muffled moan of pleasure.

"You like that, don't you?" He turned his eyes upwards, looking straight into his embarrassed partner's as he nodded, unable to do more than moan through the gag.

"You know, sometimes I've thought about what it would be like to pour hot candle wax over you, but I never thought you'd like that. You would, wouldn't you? You get hot and bothered as I dripped it onto your skin; I've imagined it so many times, the way that it would harden over your nipples, how it would sear your skin just like that soup did, leaving tiny marks like this all over you. You know, marking you is such a turn on. Like this," he murmured, tugging at the sweatshirt. "This says that you're mine. I get to have you; nobody else does, Greg."

Greg's eyes widened and his respiration visibly sped up at the possessiveness in Nick's tone and the way he went on to describe how he would drip the wax over his cock and balls. This was a new Nick, a little scary and a whole lot sexy, and he wasn't sure if the shiver that ran through him was more from trepidation or excitement.

"You're so pretty when you're wearing my mark, Greg. It means you're mine and only mine. I like knowing at work, just under your clothes, you're branded with my personal mark."

Greg moaned, and then moaned again when he realized he could taste Nick, his very essence, on the boxers stuffed in his mouth.

Nick traced the edge of the burn with the tip of a finger, making Greg shudder. "You know what else I want to do, G?"

Dark eyes glazed, Greg shook his head.

Nick leaned closer, whispering in Greg's ear, "I want to spank you till your ass is red and burning, my hand prints visible, then seal in the heat with hot, melted wax. I'd even use those vanilla scented candles you like so well. Every time you sat, you'd be reminded who you belong to. And you do, Greg, you belong to me and only me."

Greg inhaled sharply, his hips thrusting forward of their own accord, and he whimpered when they met nothing but thin air; Nick's talk was turning him on to the point that he thought he could come just from the words.

The older man held an amazing power over the young lab tech, and he knew it too: Nick could make him like almost anything, could make him set aside whatever fears he had and just feel.

Stokes popped the top off of the tube of lubrication and squirted some onto his hand before he gestured for Greg to spread his legs; happily, Greg complied, thrusting upwards at the first touch of a hand against his cock.

Moving so that he was between the outstretched legs, he lightly ran a hand over the younger man's cock, loving the way his tension-filled body surged upwards at the merest of touches. Roughly, he moved his left hand downwards, coming to roll the twin heavy sacks between his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles at the juncture of the man's cock and balls. Leaning down, he quickly nipped forcefully at the pale skin, sinking his teeth in to the thigh until he was certain that it would leave a light bruise.

Bringing his head up slightly, he licked a stripe across the head of the engorged cock as he sharply pushed two of his fingers into the waiting opening. He rocked his fingers, the lubrication easing their way into the tight cavity; Greg shuddered, his hands struggling to break free of his bonds from the onslaught of sensation.

Greg couldn't help but writhe as he felt Nick's rough treatment of his body, for the sensations were overwhelming. He knew that he was Nick's, to be used in accordance with how the other man felt, and he loved it. He could feel it in the way that the bindings pulled at his wrists, in the way that he could taste Nick's precum on the gag, in the way that he could just barely see the other's gleaming, lust-filled eyes as another lick was served to his throbbing member.

The teasing was almost getting to be too much for the younger man; he could feel his body tensing, quite near the brink of his orgasm. It didn't help that the fingers inside of him had just found his prostate and were now applying pressure to it every time they thrust inwards. He tried to alert Nick, to get him to back off at least a little, but a smirk from the lower man told him that he already knew; a third finger added into the mix told him that Nick was even encouraging him to come first.

He teetered there at the brink for a few more moments, his body wracked with shudders, his breath coming in short bursts as a hand swiftly stroked him and fingers pounded into him, no longer seeking to stretch but just to pleasure him. He held off as long as he could, enjoying the way his muscles tensed and his hips moved jerkily, but a mirroring bite to his right thigh sent him over the edge, the pain giving him just enough sensation for it to be too much.

He nearly jumped a few seconds after he came when he felt a tongue lapping at his stomach just near where the hem of the sweatshirt now lay, having become pushed up during the last few minutes as Greg writhed. Blearily, he opened his eyes to see Nick licking up small patches of his come. Nick was moving slowly upwards, clearly enjoying the taste as he swirled his tongue around some that had landed on the school crest.

Nicky pulled back, a smirk on his face when he saw that Greg had been watching him.

"You taste good, G," was the only explanation he offered before rocking backwards to rest on his knees again, his hand coming up to stroke himself. "Still loose for me, baby? I'm going to pound into you so hard…"

Greg let his head fall back onto the pillow at the question, unable to believe that Nick could still make him want more even after he had just come. He nodded.

The older man smiled, the predatory look coming back to his face as he maneuvered himself so that he was pressed right up against Greg's entrance. "You want this, don't you? You want my hard cock in your tight little ass?"

The young lab tech could only spread his legs wider in response and moan when he felt Nick thrust into him, his body jerking from the sensation of being filled. He tried to breathe, tried to adjust to Nick's hard length, but he only had scant seconds before he was being possessed again.

Nick took him, fast and hard, loving the way that the tight folds of skin welcomed him in, softly crying his partner's name with every thrust. He could feel the soft beads of sweat dripping down his skin, could feel the way Greg's over-sensitized body trembled with every rough brush to his sweet spot.

He could feel everything; his body was so wound with sensation that he thrust in one last time, eyes trained on Greg's flushed face, the gag, and the sweatshirt as he came, arching forwards and stilling deep inside the younger man's body for a few long seconds. Crying out harshly, his body wracked with spasms, hips attempting to thrust his cock even further than it already was as his seed spilled from him.

"Mine, Greg, you're mine," he panted as he came down from his high. "I own you."

Greg looked upwards, focusing his eyes on Nick's, and saw the love that was in them. He couldn't help but think that he liked being owned by this man.