Title: Untitled
By: geekwriter
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Challenge: Dirty
Rating: NC-17
Summary: The boys get dirty. In more than one sense of the word.
A/N: For miriam. I hope it meets with your messy approval.***
"There's nothing out here," Greg said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. "We combed the entire area."
"I'm missing something," Nick said as he pulled the SUV over to the side of the road. "We missed something, I just know it. The thermos has got to be out there."
Greg closed his eyes and banged his head against the passenger side window gently. "Nick, I've been awake for over 24 hours, we already went through the scene five hundred times, and we're not even on the clock anymore. This is the time we're supposed to sleep."
"I just want to check one more time," Nick said as he reached behind him for his hooded raincoat with "LVPD" across the back in reflective block letters.
"You want to crawl down a cliff in the rain," Greg said, turning to look at him. "You could be warm in bed with me, but you'd rather be crawling down a cliff in the rain."
"I'd rather be in bed with you," Nick said, leaning over for a quick kiss. "But I just need to check one more time."
Greg let out a long-suffering sigh.
"Are you coming?" Nick asked, passing Greg his raincoat.
"No. I'm staying here where it's warm and dry. And leave the keys."
Nick frowned but didn't argue with him. He left the keys in the ignition and the alert beeped as he opened his door and jumped out.
Greg crossed his arms over his chest and purposefully stared out the window, not looking at Nick as he opened the back to get supplies.
After a few minutes he got bored and switched the key in the ignition, changing the radio from Nick's country station to his favorite rock station. He wasn't going to help. He didn't care if some drunk had driven her car off a cliff. Served her right for driving drunk in the first place. He'd done his job. He'd searched the scene, catalogued and processed the evidence.
He didn't care if Nick was out there alone in the cold, drizzling rain. That was Nick's choice. He could search for the elusive thermos all he wanted. Greg didn't even believe there was a thermos. Sure. She wasn't drunk, she said. Someone must have spiked her thermos, she said. A likely story. There was no way in hell Greg was getting out of the warm, dry car to look for something that didn't even exist.
He didn't care that his boyfriend was out in the rain, cold and wet, his sense of justice so strong that he had to go back to the scene and check for himself just once more. Nick could freeze to death for all he cared. Greg was perfectly happy just sitting there in the car, listening to music, thinking about how good his bed would feel once he finally got to fall into it.
"Damnit," Greg muttered as he turned the car off and yanked the key out of the ignition. He put his raincoat on, pulled the drawstrings to close the hood tight around his face, and stepped out into the rain.
It wasn't as cold as he'd expected. The morning was gray and dull, but the rain was a soft, summer rain, not the cold pelting rain they got during the winter.
Greg gripped the rope Nick had tied to the SUV's trailer hitch and eased himself down the side of the cliff. Not that it really was a cliff. More of a small incline.
"So," he said once he got to the bottom of the incline. "What color is this thermos supposed to be?"
Nick turned and grinned at him, his flashlight still illuminating the underbrush. "Green. Dark green."
Greg rolled his eyes. "Great. Fantastic. It might as well be camouflage." He sighed loud enough for Nick to hear it. He was either getting a blowjob once they got home or Nick was sleeping on the couch. For a week.
He and Nick worked their way further down the hill, one of them on either side of the tire tracks that were quickly turning to mud. Greg scanned the underbrush slowly, not wanting to miss anything. If Nick thought he was slacking off he'd probably want to search Greg's side himself and they'd be out there twice as long.
"So what makes you think there even is a therm—oof!" Greg's foot hit a rock hidden beneath a pile of wet leaves and he turned, quickly, trying to catch his balance. It didn't work. The next thing he knew, he was flat on the ground with a face full of mud.
"G," Nick's voice was tense. "G, you all right? You OK? God, did you sprain anything?"
Greg groaned and moved to push himself up, his flingers slipping through the thick mud as he did so. He flopped over onto his back and tipped his face up to the rain. Nick was so sleeping on the couch, blowjob or no blowjob.
"G, you OK? Did you hurt anything?"
"Just my pride." Greg tried to sit up but his hands slipped in the mud and he slid onto his back again. "Fuck. You owe me, like, five hundred blowjobs for this. I hope you know that."
"I know," Nick said, but he didn't sound contrite. He sounded…he sounded like he was trying not to laugh.
Greg opened one eye and peered up at Nick. His expression was serious but Greg could see the laughter in his eyes. And that was just perfect. He could be sitting warm and dry in the truck but for Nick's sake he'd come out to help search and ended up on his ass. He had mud seeping into his underwear and Nick was laughing at him.
He held one arm up towards Nick. "Help me up," he said. And Nick, sweet, trusting Nick took Greg's hand, not expecting Greg to brace his feet and free hand on the ground and yank as hard as he could.
"Wha--?" was all Nick managed to get out before landing in the mud next to Greg. He sputtered and pushed himself up and gaped at Greg.
"What the hell?" Nick demanded, causing Greg to giggle. He tried to stop it. He tried to keep a straight face, but he just couldn't. Nick had landed on his back, but he'd landed hard causing mud to spurt up and come down across his chest and neck and the side of his face. Nick was wearing his seriously pissed off face, the one that usually gave Greg pause, but the look on his face combined with the mud in his hair just made Greg laugh harder.
"That was so not cool," Nick snapped.
"Ah, but it felt good," Greg said, relaxing into the mud. He was totally covered so he figured there really wasn't any reason to fight it.
"It felt good to pull me into a mud puddle?"
Greg nodded. "More than you know. Besides, you were laughing at me."
"I was not!"
"Maybe not out loud, but inside you were laughing your head off."
Nick grumbled in the way he always did when he was wrong but didn't want to admit it. He sighed and sat up. "My shorts are getting wet," he said. "I'm gonna have to drive all the way home with wet shorts." The petulant tone of his voice made Greg laugh again. "What?" he demanded.
Greg knew better than to tell Nick that he sometimes sounded like a sulking child, so he just leaned over and kissed him gently. "You could always take 'em off," he whispered against Nick's mouth.
And he'd been kidding. It had been a joke, but he could tell from Nick's sharp intake of breath that Nick didn't think of it as a joke. It made sense, really. Nick was an outdoorsy guy. Greg didn't like being outside unless it involved the beach and getting a tan, but Nick loved being outdoors. He liked hiking and camping and all those butch, outdoorsy things that Greg studiously avoided. It made sense that he'd also like the idea of outdoor sex.
Greg grinned against Nick's mouth. "You wanna?" he asked.
"Greg," Nick whispered, voice tight. It was the voice he used when he wanted something but couldn't admit how much he wanted it.
Greg unzipped Nick's jacket and slid his muddy hands beneath Nick's t-shirt. "You wanna do me right here, Nicky?" he asked. The mud was slick since the ground was mostly clay, and Greg was surprised at how much he liked the feel of it.
"We can't," Nick said, though one of his hands was stroking Greg's denim-covered thigh. He swallowed hard. "We're working."
"We're off the clock," Greg reminded him. He unzipped his own jacket, pulled it and his t-shirt off as one. The soft rain was cool on his bare shoulders but not cold. He took Nick's hand and pressed it to his stomach. Nick seemed almost mesmerized as his fingers traced muddy patterns on Greg's pale skin.
"Nobody's around to see us," Greg whispered, leaning forward for another kiss. "It's just you and me and the rain…"
That did something to Nick because, suddenly, Greg was on his back in the mud with his arms pinned above his head. Nick kissed him hard, ground his hips against Greg's.
"Fuck," Nick whispered as he let go of Greg's wrists. Greg loved that Nick never said "fuck" unless he was turned on.
Nick's hands were shaking as he undid the buttons on Greg's jeans. He yanked them down, pulling off Greg's shoes at the same time and tossing the bundle aside.
Greg propped himself up on his elbows, feeling oddly comfortable. He felt like a nature sprite or an elf or something. He slid his feet through the mud, felt it squish between his toes. Then he noticed that Nick was getting naked and he forgot about how good the mud felt because naked Nick was pretty much his favorite thing in the entire world.
Greg reached out and gripped Nick's erect cock, pumped it a few times and grinned when Nick groaned. He pushed himself up onto his knees, pulled Nick towards him. "You like this?" Greg asked softly as he continued to stroke.
Nick nodded. His eyes were dark and he clung to Greg, slid his hands up Greg's back and into his hair. The feeling of Nick's fingers moving through the mud on his skin made Greg shiver. "Touch me," he whispered just before Nick's lips met his.
He slid his tongue into Nick's mouth, feeling Nick's hard, slick teeth, his soft, quick tongue. Then Nick wrapped his fingers around Greg's cock and he moaned softly, bucking up into Nick's fist.
"So beautiful," Nick whispered as he pressed his cheek against Greg's.
"What? All covered in mud?" Greg tried to keep his voice light, but it was increasingly difficult when Nick was stroking him fast, twisting his wrist at the end of each stroke.
"Mmm." Nick nodded. His breath was coming faster. He was getting close.
Greg slowed down a bit—just enough to make Nick whimper. He loved holding Nick's cock in his hand, loved the heat of it, the swell of his cockhead, the way he could feel Nick's pulse against his palm. Nick liked it slow. He could whimper and gasp all he wanted, but Greg knew him, knew his body, knew that if he made it slow, if he made Nick wait, that Nick would come even harder, and Greg loved it when Nick came hard. He loved it when all of Nick's defenses were stripped away and Nick was nothing but feeling, crying out unselfconsciously, face contorted in that sweet, sweet mix of pleasure and pain.
Greg looked down and in the gray, drizzly light he could see Nick's cock in his hand, his cock in Nick's hand. He loved watching them touch each other, loved the way Nick's cock got even harder when he was close, the way Nick's cockhead flared and turned an even darker shade of red just before he came.
Not that Greg could even make out the color of Nick's cock. It was muddy, as muddy as his own. Their hands slid over one another easily and the sweet-wet sounds of jerking off were amplified; Greg didn't know if it was the mud or just being so close together somewhere that was so quiet. There was no sound. No birds were singing. It was just the soft patter of the rain on the leaves and the ground, their shallow breaths, and the wet slap of hands against cocks.
"Please," Nick gasped. "Jesus, Greg, please."
Greg gripped Nick's cock tighter and began to stroke faster. "You close, baby?" he asked.
Nick nodded, his eyes closed against the rain.
"You gonna come for me?"
Nick groaned deep in the back of his throat, nodded again. "Fuck, Greg…"
"Come on, baby," Greg urged. "Come on me. Come for me. Wanna feel your come hit my skin. Wanna watch that come shoot out of your cock."
Nick groaned through gritted teeth and froze. He didn't move, every muscle in his body tensed as Greg continued to stroke him hard and fast. Then he began to come and he let his head fall back and his cry sounded like a howl. Greg continued to stroke him as he came, wanting to make it last as long as possible, wanting to tease out every drop.
Nick slumped against him, shaking slightly. "Oh, God," he whispered before leaning back and sliding down into the mud. He lay on his back, mouth open, gasping for breath, one hand stroking Greg's leg lazily.
Greg moved easily into position over him, pressed his cock against the hollow of Nick's hip. He usually liked to keep his eyes open, but fucking himself against Nick, using the slick clay mud to ease his way across Nick's skin, felt so good he couldn't help but close his eyes. He felt the rain on his back, washing away the mud. He felt Nick's hands on his hips. He felt the pleasure in his cock spreading through him, making his nipples ache, making it impossible to control the moans coming out of his mouth. It was so wet, so slick, and Nick was beneath him, urging him on with his hands and his voice, whispering soft words encouraging Greg to come, and then he did. He felt it build within him and when the release began it was so sweet he sobbed for the love of it. He shuddered and came and collapsed on top of Nick's strong body and lay there for a long time as they caught their breath, Nick's hands gentle on his shoulders and back.
Finally he rolled off Nick and tipped his chin up to get more rain on his face. He laughed softly, which happened when he came hard. Nick was laughing too.
"How in the hell are we gonna keep from ruining the inside of the truck like this?" Nick asked with a grin.
Greg shook his head and stretched leisurely, sliding his arms through the mud like he would if he was making snow angels. He and Nick were mud angels. The thought made him laugh again.
"Trash bags, you think?" Nick asked.
"Probably a good idea," Greg said. "First, though, we'd better find our clothes." He'd just noticed that during sex they'd slid at least another six or seven feet down the hill. He reached out to grasp what he thought was one of their flashlights but jerked his hand away from it just in time. "Uh, Nick?" he asked.
"Yeah?" Nick had already gotten up and was heading back up the hill towards their clothes.
"I just found the thermos."***
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