Title: What Makes the Man
By: Caroline Crane
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC17
Warnings: Bd
Summary: pure porn.

'A souvenir,' he'd said as he slid an arm around Greg and waved a bottle of Sprite in front of him. It didn't matter that Greg had never actually found the soda bottle he was sent out to the scene to retrieve; what mattered was that Nick was thinking up excuses to come back to his lab and see him, even after Gris had already bitched them both out for goofing off when they should have been working.

At the time Greg had laughed and taken the soda, pressing back into Nick's body heat for a second before he turned and gave the other man a devious grin. "You mean I don't get to keep the cop uniform? Could be fun, you know. You up for a little role-play?"

Nick had just smiled and shaken his head, said 'that's evidence, Greggo', and reached for the soda again. Greg had watched while he unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, then handed the bottle back with a smile Greg knew was supposed to be seductive. It was cute, watching a guy like Nick try to be sexy in the middle of such a public -- and completely inappropriate -- place. If Gris had caught them again Nick might have regretted the sudden burst of spontaneity, but luckily for Greg Grissom was nowhere to be found.

"I gotta get back to it," Nick had said, letting his fingers linger against Greg's as he handed the soda back. "Come by my place after shift?"

"I'll be there," Greg had answered. Just for fun he'd wrapped his lips around the top of the bottle and taken a long, slow swallow of sweet liquid while Nick watched. It had exactly the effect he'd been hoping for, and when Nick groaned and muttered something about long shifts as he turned away Greg didn't bother trying not to laugh. It had definitely been a long shift, but it had been one of the best shifts of his life. He'd found a key piece of evidence all on his own, Grissom trusted him out in the field, and later Nick was going to fuck him until he couldn't remember his own name.

At the time he'd told himself life didn't get much better than this. That was before he'd let himself into Nick's house.

He'd had the spare key for awhile now; since after the explosion, when Nick had finally stopped screwing around and told Greg how he felt, then overcompensated for taking so long to spit it out by more or less forcing Greg to move in with him. It had been kind of annoying to have Nick fussing over him like he couldn't take care of himself, but at the same time it had been kind of...nice. Comforting, in a way, even though he'd been ready to kill Nick by the time he moved back into his own place and went back to work.

Still, he'd needed help with the bandages, and if Nick wasn't the most patient nurse in the world, he more than made up for it in other ways. He wasn't even that hard to live with, and Greg was sort of looking forward to the day Nick realized that he kind of missed having Greg around on a permanent basis. The fact that Nick had never asked for his key back said more about where their relationship was going than either of them had actually said out loud. That wasn't surprising; Nick was more a man of action than words, Greg had known that long before they started sleeping together.

And this...this definitely counted as action. He dropped his keys on the first available flat surface, dropped the overnight bag he kept in his car on the floor, and crossed the room in a few short strides. He stopped just in front of Nick, looking the other man up and down as his brain tried to process the image in front of him. He knew there was something he should be saying, but the only thing he could think was ohmygod over and over.

Nick cleared his throat and shifted under the scrutiny, and even through Greg's lust-induced fog he could see that the other man was uncomfortable. Still, he was the one who'd done it, so he couldn't be that uncomfortable. "Where did you...?"

"It's my old uniform," Nick answered, his hands landing on the gun holster slung around his waist. The radio was missing, of course, and he didn't have his badge anymore, but the overall effect was still pretty amazing. Greg had never actually tried to picture Nick in his police uniform before, but now that he was seeing it with his own eyes he knew he'd never forget it.

"I...I didn't...you kept your uniform?"

It was the closest to speechless Greg had ever been. It was kind of a weird feeling, but he couldn't get over the fact that Nick had actually dug out his old uniform. For him. Just for him, and all because of an offhand comment Greg had made hours ago. There were a million things he could say, like 'you look amazing' or 'I can't believe you did this for me' or 'God, those pants are tight', but he was too busy staring to remember how to form words.

"I forgot I had it until you said that thing about the uniform," Nick answered, shifting uncomfortably again. His thumbs were hooked into his gun holster in that way the cops on TV always did, and Greg's hands twitched with the need to touch. "Look, were you just kidding around before? Because I'm starting to feel pretty stupid here."

When Nick's words sank in Greg snapped out of his stupor long enough to realize that he was about to ruin this, that any second now Nick was going to go take that uniform off and then Greg would probably never get to see him in it again. He shook his head and reached for the hem of his own shirt, yanking it over his head and tossing it on the floor. "Not stupid," he muttered as he reached for the button on his pants. "Really, really, not stupid. You look...Jesus, you can frisk me any time."

Nick laughed at that, sharp and surprised and Greg grinned as he watched two bright spots of pink bloom on the other man's cheeks. "Looks like you're more interested in a strip search."

"I'm easy," Greg said as he kicked his shoes off and stepped out of his pants. "You don't still have your handcuffs, do you?"

"They make you give those back when you turn in your badge." Nick looked him up and down, raising one eyebrow at the sight of Greg in boxers and a pair of athletic socks. "I would have picked some up, but this was kind of a last-minute thing."

Greg grinned and closed the distance between them, running his fingers along Nick's gun holster. "Next time I'll bring mine. So am I under arrest or what?"

Nick laughed again, sliding one arm around Greg's waist and the other into his hair. "For what? Excessive use of bad clichés?"

"Whatever." His hands found their way to Nick's shirt, working the buttons open as the other man tilted his head and pressed their mouths together. He knew putting on the uniform had been a pretty huge deal all by itself, and he wasn't expecting Nick to get into character. Not that he would have complained if Nick wanted to use excessive force or talk dirty to him in his best 'bad cop' voice, but he was willing to take what he could get. The uniform alone was more than he ever would have expected, and when Nick started to shrug out of the shirt Greg reached up to stop him.

"Leave it on," he said, pulling back far enough to catch the flash of lust in Nick's eyes. Nick nodded and reached for Greg's boxers, pushing them down his hips in one quick motion. Greg just managed to kick them off before Nick pulled him forward again, practically lifting him off the floor in his hurry to get them to the nearest flat surface. The floor would have been fine for all Greg cared, but when Nick stopped behind the couch Greg realized he didn't have a flat surface in mind after all.

He grinned when Nick turned him around, bracing his arms on the back of the couch as strong hands slid down his sides. Nick's mouth landed on his neck, hot breath making him shiver as the other man trailed kisses up to his ear. "Spread 'em," Nick whispered, and Jesus, Greg was going to die of shock before Nick ever let him come. He never would have thought Nick had it in him, but when he felt a hand on his ass he spread his legs a little wider. And he wasn't lucky enough to think that Nick might actually use the words 'assume the position', but there was always next time, because they were definitely exploring this whole role-playing thing again.

One of Nick's hands gripped his hip, the other sliding down his ass to dip between his legs. Greg gasped and jerked back into Nick's touch, shivering again when Nick laughed against his neck. "Like that?"

He wasn't sure when Nick got so talkative, but he sure as hell wasn't going to complain. "God, yes," he answered as he pushed back against Nick's hand, a low groan escaping his throat when a finger slid inside him. The hand that had been on his hip reached around to grip his cock, stroking slowly as Nick worked his finger in and out.

And this...this was enough to make him come, just Nick's hands on him and the buttons of his uniform shirt pressing into Greg's back. He didn't even care how he looked, his head back against Nick's shoulder and his jaw slack as he stood there in just his socks and let Nick jerk him off. His eyes were closed and he was well on his way to losing himself in the combined sensations when Nick's hands stilled, and before Greg had time to complain he felt the other man drop to his knees.

The first touch of wet warmth more than made up for the endless seconds of waiting to be touched again, and Greg leaned forward and spread his legs even further as Nick's tongue slid inside him. He closed his eyes tighter and pictured Nick on his knees, shirt hanging open and loose and his erection outlined against already tight pants. The image made him jerk back a little harder, and a second later Nick's hands landed on his hips to hold him in place.

He was so hard he wanted to cry from frustration, but Nick stubbornly refused to touch his cock again. And the worst part was that he couldn't even see anything, because he was sure if he could he would have come just from the sight of Nick on his knees in that uniform. When he couldn't stand it anymore he let go of the couch with one hand and reached down to jerk himself off, but as soon as his hand closed around his dick Nick grabbed his wrist. Greg let out a frustrated whimper as Nick pulled his hand away and stood up, his whole body pressing against Greg.

"I don't remember telling you to touch," Nick murmured against his neck, and Greg's cock twitched at the lust in the other man's voice. Nick worried Greg's earlobe with his teeth, one hand still holding Greg's wrist as the other reached between them. Greg heard a muted 'snap', then a soft thud as Nick unbuckled his holster and let it fall to the floor. He didn't try to turn around and look; if Nick wanted to be in control he was more than okay with that, especially if it meant he'd get to see this side of his boyfriend more often.

The next sound was a zipper opening, followed by the rustle of fabric as Nick's pants slid down his legs. Then Greg was being pressed forward again, a hand landing on his hip again as Nick lined himself up and slid inside in one hard thrust. Greg grunted against the sudden invasion, his grip on the couch tightening as he struggled to adjust. Nick's free hand landed on his back, the soothing strokes a direct contrast to Nick's sudden aggressiveness.

Greg took a deep breath and relaxed, pushing back in a silent invitation that Nick took with a soft, grateful sigh. He gripped Greg's hips and thrust forward again, angling his strokes until he found the spot that made white flash in Greg's vision. His legs trembled as Nick found that spot over and over again, his thrusts quickly growing more erratic.

When he was sure he was going to come without even needing to be touched again Nick reached around him, reading Greg's mind as his hand closed around Greg's cock and began stroking in counterpoint to his thrusts. Greg gasped and thrust forward into Nick's grip, and by the time he came his legs were shaking and it was only the fact that Nick was still holding onto him that kept him standing.

He was still shuddering when Nick thrust once more, then again and came inside Greg, his chest pressed against Greg's back and an arm circling his waist to keep him standing. Hot breath warmed his neck as Nick panted against him, their skin sliding together when Nick finally slipped out of him and pulled them both to the floor. Greg collapsed gratefully, sprawling on the carpet to watch as Nick pulled first his boots, then his uniform pants off the rest of the way.

He felt like he should say something, maybe thank Nick for digging out a uniform Greg hadn't even known he owned just because he thought Greg would like it. Words didn't seem adequate to explain just how much he'd liked it, though, and when Nick stretched out on top of him Greg gave up trying to find the right thing to say. Talking was kind of overrated anyway; that was one of the things he was learning from Nick. In the end he decided to let his actions speak for him, his hands gripping the collar of Nick's shirt to pull him forward for the first in what he was planning on making an entire day full of long, slow kisses.