Title: Sunglasses at Night
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC17
Summary: pwp

It's days like this he's glad he doesn't date women anymore. He's spent the better part of the night shift reassuring Catherine that she still looks good, and when he wasn't doing that he was busy wondering why so many women feel like they need to get a whole bunch of work done just so they can feel good about themselves. He doesn't get it, and no matter how hard Catherine tries to compare it to keeping in shape, he'll never get it.

So he's glad to be home, glad for the chance to peel off his clothes and stand under a hot shower until he can't smell the antiseptic ammonia of the plastic surgery clinic anymore. He doesn't glance in the mirror to check himself out when he gets out of the shower, but it surprises him that he has to force himself not to, and okay, maybe Catherine had a small point. But it's still not the same, he tells himself as he wraps a towel around his waist and pulls the bathroom door open.

To find Greg standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall in his CSI jacket and those damn sunglasses. And if he'd known Greg was actually going to wear them he never would have dug out his old uniform, but he can't help smiling when Greg pulls them down to peer at Nick over the top of the mirrored lenses.

"How do I look?"

"Like a cop."

"Sara says I look like a porn star," Greg says, pushing himself off the wall to follow Nick into the bedroom.

"What does Sara know about porn?" Nick asks, but as soon as Greg opens his mouth he holds up a hand. "I don't want to know."

Greg smirks, unzipping his jacket to toss it on the end of the bed, and it kind of ruins the effect, but Nick doesn't say anything. Because he's not interested in encouraging Greg's weird fantasies, and anyway, Greg's never needed his encouragement.

"So, do you want me to frisk you?" He didn't hear Greg cross the room, but suddenly there's a hand on his hip and that voice right next to his ear, and Nick can't help the shudder that rolls through him. It gets him an appreciative little chuckle, then Greg's mouth is pressed against his neck and his other hand's traveling down Nick's side. "That a yes?"

And he's way too tired to play games, but he's been thinking about this since Catherine started on her 'you're a guy, you wouldn't understand' routine, so he turns in Greg's grip until they're face to face, hands on Greg's shoulders to push him back toward the bed. He reaches up with one hand to pull the glasses away, but before he gets them off Greg's reaching up to stop them.

"What? You don't want to play good cop/bad cop?"

"I don't want to play anything," he says, the words coming out as more of a growl than he really intended, but it gets his point across because Greg lets him pull the glasses off. He drops them in the vicinity of the nightstand, not really caring where they land because Greg's hands are still on his skin and he's still wearing way too many clothes.

"Hey, careful with those."

"I'll get you a new pair," Nick murmurs against Greg's skin, still moving backwards until they hit the mattress with a soft bounce.

"I don't want a new pair," Greg answers, hands tugging at Nick's towel as Nick works on the buttons of his shirt, "I like those."

"They're just glasses."

"They're your glasses."

The words are murmured against his mouth, and Nick wants to pull back to see Greg's expression, but Greg's tongue is already pushing past his teeth and he's already pushing up against Nick, fingers digging hard into Nick's shoulders and it's all Nick can do to get his shirt open. He gives up Greg's chest is bare, shirt bunched around his shoulders and hips lifting off the bed to let Nick slide his jeans down. He rolls off Greg long enough to let him kick them off, the fabric getting tangled in his shoes until he remembers and kicks those off too.

And it's kind of hot, watching Greg get so turned on that he forgets how to undress himself, but it's taking way too long so Nick slides off the bed to tug his jeans and boxers off the rest of the way. When he looks up again Greg's leaning up on his elbows, skin flushed with need and knees splayed and Nick doesn't think before he's pushing up on his knees to take Greg in his mouth.

His hands are flat against the mattress, tongue tracing the underside of Greg's cock until he's moaning and thrusting up in search of more, hot and wet and when Nick's mouth closes around him he makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat that tells Nick just how long he's been thinking about this.

He splays one hand across Greg's hip, holding him against the mattress as he pushes his other hand between Greg's legs, past his balls to press against the taut skin there until Greg's moaning something unintelligible and pushing down against Nick's hand. Seeking more, trying to get Nick inside him and this is the part Nick likes best. Likes knowing just how much Greg wants him, seeing it in the way his body begs for more and hearing it in the way Greg murmurs his name in that breathy, broken voice.

He pulls his hand away, ignoring Greg's disappointed murmur and reaching up, fingers pressed against Greg's mouth until he takes the hint and sucks Nick's fingers inside. And he's pretty sure he could come just from this, because he can feel the pressure of Greg's mouth all the way to his groin and when Greg finally lets Nick's fingers slip out of his mouth again he's almost disappointed.

But he knows where this is going, so he ignores his own need and lifts Greg's hips to push two wet fingers inside. He watches Greg's face, cock twitching at the sight of his mouth dropping open in a silent sigh before he closes his own mouth around Greg's cock again. He's moving faster now, watching Greg rock between his mouth and his fingers until he loses control and comes with a low, broken moan.

Nick waits until he stops shaking to pull off and spit into his hand, then he wraps a slick palm around his own cock and strokes a few times, eyes closed tight to keep himself from coming. It's been a long, boring night and he's not sure how much control he's got left, but he fights back the urge to come and crawls back onto the mattress, over Greg and pushing his knees apart. And Greg's still panting, whole body stained red and shaking with the effort to catch his breath, but he leans up to meet Nick anyway, hand at the back of his neck to pull him down for a hard kiss.

He hooks one leg around Nick's waist as Nick slides inside, pausing when he's all the way in to catch his breath before he pulls out and thrusts forward again. They're moving slow, Greg's leg wrapped tight around him to pull him a little deeper with each stroke, and Nick knows he's not going to last long. He pulls his mouth away from Greg's, hands braced on either side of Greg's shoulders to watch Greg's eyelids flutter with each thrust.

He can tell Greg's fighting to keep his eyes open, knows he wants to watch Nick watching him and that makes it even hotter. Because Nick's never really liked being watched – at least not until Greg came along – and he still hasn't gotten over how easy it is for Greg to relax and just let him look. Like he wants the attention – like he craves it, like he's just been waiting for Nick to finally notice that he's been standing right here all this time.

And maybe he was, but he never complains about how long it took for Nick to catch on. As soon as he thinks it Greg tightens around him, pulling him in even deeper once, then one last time before Nick comes. His fingers are still pressed hard against Nick's biceps, ten spots of red on his skin that he'll still be able to feel even after the marks fade. He collapses on top of Greg, panting against his neck until his heart stops beating fast enough to fly right out of his chest.

Greg's hands leave his arms to slide up his back, fingers absently rubbing through Nick's hair and Nick laughs against his neck.

"Feels good," Greg says, and Nick can hear the smile in his voice. "Soft."

And he's not complaining, because he's spent plenty of time with his own hands in Greg's hair. Before they started dating he always thought it looked hard, like it would be stiff if he touched it. But it's soft, just as soft as Nick's shaved head and even though he'd never admit it, he kind of likes the feel of Greg's fingers massaging his scalp.

"So this is what wearing my sunglasses to work makes you think about."

"They remind me of you," Greg answers, breath warm against Nick's neck and sending a fresh shiver down his spine. "Maybe I should give you mine, give you something to remind you of me."

"Trust me, G," Nick says, shifting until he finds a patch of warm skin to press his lips to, "I don't need a reminder."