Title: Three Little Words
Author: Deb & Jilly
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Spoilers: None
Category: First time, PWP
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Probably through season 5, just to be safe.
Archive: Permission to Greg_Sanders_Slash, others please ask.
Disclaimer: I don't own the pretties, I'm just playing in the sandbox!
Author's Note: Gratuitous PWP. I was due for smut!
Feedback: Slings and arrows to the left, sticks and stones to the right. No burning in effigy please, I'm on a diet.
Cross posted to: nickngreg & csi_slash on LJ, greg_sanders_slash & csi_slash @ yahoogroups

***

Nick was smiling when he walked in the lab. First stop, shutting off Greg's music. Once there was blessed silence, he asked, “Whatcha lookin' at, G?"

Greg, startled by the sudden silence cleared his throat, recovering presence of mind. God, of all the CSI's to walk in, it had to be the one he was fantasizing about. “Semen sample."

"Doesn't Gris keep telling you to wash your hands before handling evidence?" Nick was amused, and he leaned over Greg's shoulder to look at the slide.

"Oh ha ha, very good. Do you mind? I was finding out things from the boys."

"Nope, I don't mind at all. You go ahead." He stayed where he was, scanning the reports that had already been printed out.

"... you want me to lay violent hands on you." Greg's tone was flat, expression deadpan.

"Easy there, G. Just trying to you know. Hang out. Hide from Gris for a few minutes." Nick patted the younger man's shoulder.

"So you don't want me to lay hands on you?"

"Are you hitting on me, man?"

"Oh, every day, Stokes!" Greg grinned and stroked the microscope 'suggestively,' barely holding back snickers. “Come here and look at my semen sample!"

"Well, at least that's a better line then 'turn your head and cough.'" Nick sighed and moved to look at the sample.

"Damn, that was next. Anyway. That one's a lot older than the other but.. well, waiting on the DNA to come out. My bet's they're the same."

“Easy there, G. Or I might think you're serious. Good work. Page me when you have the results." Nick was blushing, so he made some excuse about having to talk to Sara and left, leaving his glasses and keys behind.

Greg shamelessly watched the retreat. or really, just one certain aspect of the whole walking away thing.

Nick realized he left his glasses behind, backtracked to retrieve them Greg got a long look. “Greg, are you checking out my butt? “

"B.. me? Nah, just was seeing if that was um, Warrick out there. Got something for him."

"You, uh, expect Warrick to pop out of my butt?" Nick smirked, amused at Greg's sudden embarrassment.

"OUT there, Nick, past you, into the mythical hallway. Geez, someone has a complex."

"G, you were watching my butt. I saw you."

"All right. Fine. Nick..." He paused, thoughtfully asked, “where'd you get your pants?"

"My pants? Texas. I've had these jeans...a long time." Nick looked baffled, adorably so. Couldn't figure out where Greg was going with this.

"Ah. Genuinely worn jeans, as opposed to $75 Abercrombie worn in for you jeans. Shame, I was looking to totally waste the next paycheck.. anyway, don't let me keep you. Sorry about the confusion."

"You shouldn't ever spend $75 on jeans. If you're not gonna wear 'em in yourself you don't deserve to have them." In Texas, jeans are sacred. “But if you wanna blow a paycheck.."

"But so fashionable! But wait, I hear a potentially sordid suggestion." Greg grinned, raised an eyebrow, managing to look anticipatory and amused all at once.

"Forget it. That DNA done yet?" Nick was bright red, the flush spreading from the tips of his ears all the way down his neck.

Greg pushed the prized rolling chair over to check. “Few more minutes. C'mon, spit it out. Corrupt these innocent ears, Stokes. I eagerly await. Or could it be the gentleman regrets? What a pretty blush he's got." Another grin followed.

"Your ears are probably the last part of you that is innocent," he muttered.

Greg waggled his eyebrows as he leaned back in his chair. “How little you know of me."

"Do you have a point here or are you just giving me a hard time?"

"Well, I have ..." He checked the machine, “three minutes to convince you to to tell me what I should blow my paycheck on, and then I guess your hard times are over."

"Some decent shirts."

Open-mouthed shock from Greg. "Low. Blow. These are excellent quality shirts, I'll have you know. Just the thing to catch the eye of ... potential conquests." Greg declares. "Like birds in the Amazon. It's working, isn't it? Already the other male feels I'm competition and has become hostile!"

"You think.. you're competition for me?" Nick leaned over, lips nearly brushing Greg's ear when he spoke. "Only if you like guys, man." Then Nick was straightening up and walking out of there.

Greg inhaled slowly as Nick walked away, trying to keep a smile off his face. And couldn't really manage that, same as he couldn't help letting his eyes drop, again. Yeah. I'm competition, Nick.

"Stop checking out my ass, Greg." Without looking back.

The sound of a chair being hastily rolled back to a microscope was the only reply.

Nick just laughed, stopped, went back to get his glasses and keys. Again. Just stared at Greg for a minute. Grinning.

And Greg, hunched dutifully over the microscope, wouldn't have moved except for the cheerful ding! that announced the DNA results. With an "oh, what do you know" expression, he flashed a bright smile and rolled over to grab them.

Nick stood there awkwardly, foot tapping, hands in jean pockets. Faded, soft, button slides out of the hole with no effort jeans. Jeans so worn in they were bald in patches, his back pocket half worn through. Knees about to go. See through in certain light.. OLD jeans.

Greg tried to actually read the report, but it was taking him longer than usual because Nick was standing right beyond the edge of the paper and was so much more ... interesting. "Um." He said to buy himself time, wrenching his eyes back down. "Looks like... yep, I was right. Wait, I mean -- oh, no, I was right." He cleared his throat and rolled a little closer to offer Nick the paper.

"So we have a match. Good job, G." Nick took the report, free hand resting on Greg's shoulder. Light, friendly. And that button was half free.

Moth to flame, kitten after string, all those clichés, but Greg never could stop himself about things like this. He casually reached over and buttoned Nick properly, tilting his head back to smile at him as he let his hand brush against soft denim on the way back down. "Thanks."

Nick swallowed hard, looked at Greg. Bright red, flustered Texan. He mumbled something about showing the results to Sara and fled. Greg won this round.

Greg leaned back in his chair, grinning as Nick fled. A definite shit eating grin, that, all smugly satisfied as he watched, for the third or fourth time, what had formerly been the Best Part of His Day for the past month or so. But maybe there'd be more to look forward to tomorrow.

He slunk back in after shift ended, rare dead time in the lab. Finally remembered to put his glasses -on- when he retrieved them. Keys were dropped, suspiciously close to Greg.

The sound of the keys hitting the counter roused Greg from some results he was analyzing. Surprise blended smoothly into a cocky grin. "Stokes. Looking well."

"Stop trying to rattle me," muttered as he squatted to pick up the keys.

"Turnabout's fair play, you know." That was playfully accusatory, so not so much an invitation as a 'you started it' prod.

Nick opened his mouth, closed it. Stayed where he was, balanced on the balls of his feet. "So Sanders, why flirt with me?"

"So Stokes, why flirt with me?" Greg wisely scooted his chair backwards and away, though it was really to grab a pen from where he'd left it.

"I asked you first." Grin.

"Fair enough." Greg surrendered without much of a fight, cocky smile still in place. "Why not?" Seemed like a truly investigative question, not flippant -- like he was really asking for one reason why not.

"You always made a big deal over Sara." A shrug. "Figured you were chasing her."

"Sara's fun." A shrug in return. "Flirting's fun. I dunno about chasing her. You know the saying? Boys are dumb, girls are crazy? Not rocket science there but, hey, what works works. ... I don't need crazy. Dumb, I've got that down." Greg grins cheerfully.

"At the risk of inflating your already puffed up ego, you're brilliant. Don't downplay it." Nick finally stood, glanced at his watch. "Time to go home. Guess I'll see you later, G."

"Yeah. Take care." Greg said, straightening off the chair a little. "Got everything this time?"

"No. But I have the basics. See ya." Long look at Greg, then he was heading for the lockers.

"See you." Greg muttered to himself, a little lost on the last look, replaying it in his mind. It was hard to get back to work.

Nick didn't make it out of the lockers. Snoring, half on the bench, half IN his locker.

Greg just shook his head, staring at Nick from the doorway for a second before coming in and hooking his arms around the sleeping man, pulling backwards to get him fully on the bench.

"Wha- huh wha..?" Nick was jolted awake, grabbing for whoever had hold of him. Panic. Least he didn't go for his gun!

"Easy, Stokes, you tried to crash in your locker. Not the most accommodating of places, I'd have to say. Not that I've tried." Greg said hastily as Nick grabbed for him.

"S-sorry. Sorry. You okay?" Instant concern, then embarrassment.

Greg snorted, not letting go of Nick even though it wasn't strictly necessary anymore. "Hey, I'm not the one with my locked number imprinted onto my cheek. Think you can get home all right?"

"I- yeah. Sure. Two doubles in a row. Not much time for sleepin' yanno?"

"Get what you can. Better if it's not on a bench. You sure you don't need a driver?"

"If I let you take me home, you won't be leaving for a while," Nick whispered.

Lazy grin, and Greg shifted a little against Nick, chiding softly, "Yeah? But I'd take good care of you, put you right to sleep, promise.."

"It's a deal. Buy you dinner before shift tonight?"

"Sounds good." Cheeky grin. "You're a gentleman, Stokes."

"If I was a gentleman, I wouldn't be agreeing to this," Nick pointed out. He sat up, away from Greg's warmth with a pang of regret, reaching for hs jacket. "You got extra clothes, or do I have to dress you for work tonight?"

"True, it's usually dinner and a movie first, then the oral sex," Greg agreed flippantly as he got up, opening his own locker to retrieve another set of clothes.

Nick was gaping at the younger man.

Greg broke into helpless snickers at Nick's expression, half-collapsing against his open locker and dropping the loudly patterned shirt.

"Are you.. is that all this would be for you?" Nick stood, pulled his jacket on. Left his ID in his locker, made sure he had everything else.

Greg wiped his eyes as he straightened off the metal, trying to sober at the question as he picked up his shirt. "I don't know. I have been ogling you for the past three months and this is remarkably similar to the dream I had last week, so I think I might've formed a pretty significant emotional attachment to you ..." He trailed off and looked apologetic, tried again seriously. "No. Unless you want it to be."

"If all I wanted was a blow job, I could pay ten bucks on the Strip." Quietly spoken.

"Dinner could run upwards of fifteen, I admit." Greg said meekly, holding his shirt to him almost like a security blanket, at least until he realized he was doing that.

"If all I am is a joke to you then forget it, man. See you tonight." Nick closed his locker and started out of the room.

"Nick." Greg nearly tripped over the bench trying to get to him, grab onto his jacket. "Please. Please let me. Take you home. I'm sorry, I just... nervous, I'm just saying whatever comes to mind, okay, still doing it, but please, please.. I can't have messed it up this quick. Give me a chance and I'll mess it up proper, not stupid like this.."

"I don't share, Greg." Nick was giving him fair warning and staking a claim at the same time. "I want my lover thinking of me and not whoever's lined up next."

Greg swallowed, tightening his hand on the jacket at the way Nick said that, looked at him. "I -- you -- there isn't anyone else I could think of." He said awkwardly.

“Good. Me either. Now let's get moving. I'm tired and I wanna get home and sleep." At Greg's smirk, he sighed. “Save it, Sanders. I don't need to walk through the halls sportin' wood. Meet you out front."

--

“I'm a parasite!" Greg yelped, staring at Nick once they were in the apartment.

“Yes, you are. But a cute one," Nick replied. He was amused at the outraged reaction. The ride home had been a lot of fun, teasing Greg about the way he always clung. To a hand, stealing a jacket, something, anything that reminded him of Nick. That had led to Nick calling him a limpet and resulted in the outraged yelp above.

Greg laughed softly, sunk his teeth into Nick's skin, grinning when he felt Nick flinch and heard the groan.

“Tasty," Greg added, lapping at the reddened skin.

“Yup, parasite. Living off other people.. sucking blood.."

“Wrong bodily fluid, Nick." Another gleeful smile at the way Nick colored up, embarrassed by the comment.

Greg nuzzled the bite, grinning. “If I drink your blood.. there won't be enough for, you know. Good things."

"You're a sick kid, Sanders."

"You love it." Greg bit again, crosswise on the first.

"You sure about that?" But a hand did slide into spiked hair, tugging.

Greg slid a hand between them, down against Nick's jeans. "Mm.. yep." He whispered gleefully, nudging his tongue into the tooth impression.

"Don't you ever stop?" Nick stifled a groan, absently thinking Greg would kill him if they kept up this pace.

"Do you want me to stop?" Greg kept his tone teasing, though his hand had slowed, and he just rested his mouth against the bite for a moment. "I might listen, you never know..."

"If you stopped now you'd just be a tease."

Greg grinned ferally against Nick's shoulder, the only warning before he bit down hard, rubbed him through those butter soft old jeans.

Nick winced, didn't manage to stifle the soft moan. "Jesus, Greg. I know you like it rough but..fuck it. Don't stop." An arm slid around the slender man, pulling him in tight.

Greg's tongue soothed at the inflamed skin, lathing over the bite marks apologetically before his mouth fastened over the area and sucked. He was soft and practically melted against Nick -- apart from the firm, teasing squeeze of his fingers and where he was pressed against Nick's hip.

How the hell did he end up back at his place with a squirming, licking, biting Greg? Nick would eventually like to figure that out. But for now, he was losing track of anything except that mouth and those hands and the soft, warm form pressed against him.

Greg removed his mouth to survey the glistening bite, looking satisfied with having marked Nick up. "You know, you look good when you're all flushed and bothered." He trailed his knuckles up Nick's fly, playing with the zipper.

Nick didn't think he had enough blood left to blush, but he did which was proof that Sanders hadn't drawn all of it was below the belt. "You look good doing it," he murmured. Nick was off balance, none of his other lovers played verbal games like this. Judging by Greg's smile and the way his fingers slipped the button loose of its hole as easily as he'd done it up the first time back in the lap, that was the Correct Answer. He leaned up to kiss Nick, eyes open and lips invitingly parted as he slipped just his fingertips inside Nick's jeans.

Nick bent his head, lips pressing eagerly to Greg's. The invitation was accepted, tongue sliding eagerly between parted pink to explore, taste. That's when Nick realized he didn't want to give that up. Greg was addictive, coffee and candy and something under it all that was just the man himself.

Greg shut his eyes as Nick slid his tongue into his welcoming mouth, a shameless and pleased moan rising in response. Pleased, and satisfied, too, like a kid who'd finally gotten the long anticipated present on Christmas morning after months of waiting. Greg pushed his hand lower, stroking Nick through his boxers eagerly.

Nick groaned when that hand slid into his jeans, dancing back away from it. He wouldn't last long at all, not the way Sanders was pushing. No chance to get his balance, no chance to stop and think. Nick was totally, completely and utterly out of his depth.

Greg made a whimper of protest, trying to get his hand back into Nick's jeans and employing pitiful eyes to do it. "Nick, please? You feel good." He whispered coaxingly.

Nick had to take a deep breath before he could answer. Those eyes of Greg's had heat in them, made him swallow hard. . Nick had often found himself wanting to be the focus of those eyes, have them trained on him like this. But now that it was happening it was overwhelming. "I- I don't think my living room is the right place for this. Do you?"

Greg reached down to take Nick's hand, taking his time to make sure fingers were laced together and smiled at the feeling, as satisfied as he'd been with the kiss. Looked up at Nick again, heat and energy tamped down for the moment at least as he said, "Wherever you want."

Nick looked down when Greg took his hand, surprised at just how good it felt. Glanced back up in time to catch Greg's eyes, shivering at the promise, the patience in them. "Bedroom, maybe. First time should be in the bedroom, where I can hold you after." He was strangely off balance with Greg being the aggressor. That was usually his role. Not that he was complaining.

"After what, Stokes?" Greg wanted to know, all cheeky smile and raised eyebrows, wanting to hear it, and maybe catch another blush. Not just a blush, a slow flush that started at his collar and went all the way to the roots of his hair, even the tips of his ears colored up. Tongue tied. No answer.

Greg watched the color rise, trying to hold back the grin as he slowly backed away a few steps from Nick, in the direction of the hallway he hoped the bedroom was. "Nothing?" He made his voice small and demure, keeping his eyes on Nick's. "You're not going to fuck me?"

"Greg, I don't fuck anyone. I make love to them." Nick spoke quietly, eyes serious.

Greg was silent for a moment, looking at Nick with uncustomary thoughtfulness, seeming smaller as he usually did whenever the option of joking was out. "Will you...?" He started hesitantly, as if the words were unfamiliar. ".. make love to me?" And he wasn't blushing, exactly, but the words imparted a shyness his teasing had covered up.

"To you. With you." Nick held a hand out to the other man, slightly more comfortable when he realized Greg was just as nervous as he was.

He took Nick's hand, drawing himself back closer, and couldn't quite find anything to say, nothing glib ready. Instead Greg buried his head beneath Nick's chin and pressed against him, inhaled contentedly. Nick wrapped his other arm around Greg, keeping him close. Chin dropped to the top of the spiky haired head. Better. Much, much better. "You okay, Greggo?"

"Got you. I'm good." Greg rubbed his nose along the inside of Nick's collar, muttered words muffled by cloth and sudden self-consciousness.

"Yeah, you got me." Soft kiss dropped to his hair. "C'mon. I could use some sleep, how about you?" Nick started walking to the bedroom, slowly backing Greg along the way.

Greg moved his feet with Nick's, amused at the shuffling pace but unwilling to move. "Gonna be distracting, sleeping with you next to me." His voice made it clear he wasn't talking about snoring.

"Is that so?" Nick teased gently, another soft kiss. "And how can I help you not be...distracted?"

"Can let me.. do a little something." Greg mock-bargained, not able to resist letting his clasped hands drop down on Nick's back a little. "Like I promised, it'll put you right to sleep once I'm done..."

"And what do you want me to do in return, G?" Hands lazily slid down to rest on Greg's hips, shuffling them back into the bedroom. Pale blues, grays. King size bed. Nick liked comfort, and his bedroom proved it.

"Don't have to.." Greg was a little distracted by the room. It looked like exactly the kind of place he wanted to be familiar with. But he tilted his head back to look at Nick, teeth in his bottom lip musingly before he finished. "... just let me. It'll be enough, trust me." His eyes and smile promised along with his words.

"You mean I don't get to touch you?" Hands slid up, around to the front of the other man, fingers making quick work of the buttons on Greg's shirt so he could feel skin.

Undressed. Being undressed by Nick. Greg melted a little more into the older man, eyelids fluttering shut. "Okay, truthfully? You can do whatever you want to me." He admitted freely, hands resting in the small of Nick's back. "You oughta sleep, though."

"We should both sleep," Nick corrected gently. "You had a long shift too." The shirt was slid off pale shoulders, and hung over the back of a chair all without letting go of Greg.

"Hey, I'm made for it." Greg protested weakly, clamping down on a shiver as his shirt moved off to the chair. "Don't let the blood build up in your caffeine system, that's the trick.." He snaked a hand beneath Nick's shirt, pressed open palmed against his back and couldn't repress a shiver this time.

"You're made for a lot of things, Greggo." Nick dipped his head, running his teeth along Greg's neck. Small nip in the spot that mirrored where Greg had bitten him earlier. "Strip. I want you in my bed."

Greg inhaled at the nip, pulling back with heated eyes at the direction. Another one of those speechless moments, though it had nothing to do with thought -- by all appearances, there wasn't enough blood in his brain right now for any of that. He kept his eyes on Nick as he unbuttoned, slid the zipper down with a small sound at the easing of pressure, and kicked his jeans off hastily, all eagerness and anticipation.

Nick reached out to touch, fingertips ghosting over Greg's chest. "I always wondered…about this. About you." Nick took a step closer, shrugging his own shirt off. Stepped out of his jeans, leaving them in a pool on the floor with his boxers.

Eyes got a little wide, not only at seeing Nick naked. Greg's movements were less certain than they'd been when there'd been a few layers of cloth between them, but the way he just about plastered himself to Nick's front was as soft. Skin against skin as he slid his arms behind Nick's neck. "Always... wondered?"

"Uh huh. Wondered if you really were flirting with me and meant it, or if you flirted with me the way you flirted with everyone else." Nick shivered ever so slightly at the contact, hands resting on slender hips again.

"I didn't want to mean it." Greg tasted the skin along Nick's pulse cautiously, had to swallow at the feel of blood beneath the skin, the sheer actuality of being here, Nick's hands on his hips. "Didn't think it was ever going to happen."

"Didn't want to mean it?" He took a deep breath, wondered about it. Fingers were kneading gently, keeping him close.

"Didn't need to get shot down again." Greg said honestly, concentrating on Nick's neck rather than looking up. "Until today. It's like there's a line with you, Stoke. Go too far, got to try for the brass ring, y'know?" A grin spread against Nick's shoulder. "You're not pierced, are you, Nick?" He asked wickedly.

"Greg, I don't shoot people down. Turn them down, yeah. But not out of malice. I just don't wanna be involved. Or didn't," he corrected. "I- pierced? Hell no. No holes in my body except what I came with."

Greg didn't argue the point, just pressed into Nick's warmth. "Yeah, uninvolved seems.. simpler. Easier. Except when I want something really bad. And yeah, I figured. So no literal brass ring, but that's okay. I like you a lot better."

"I've got..a good reason I try to not get too close to people, Greg. I just don't think I could keep you away for long. You're too persistent. Too open. I can trust you." he added without thinking.

That made Greg lift his eyes finally, though not for too long; he pressed his forehead against Nick's neck and stayed there. "Can't help it. I can't just let you..." he gestured vaguely. "I want you. And.. and I'm glad you can trust me."

"Can't let me what?" Nick rested a cheek against Greg's hair. Eyes closed, he was suddenly, unbearably tired. Two double shifts in as many days left him almost asleep on his feet now that he'd relaxed.

"Get away from me?" Greg came up helplessly after a moment's thought. It took him longer to sense Nick's weariness, but when he did he nudged the older man gently towards the bed.

"I think I like being caught," Nick murmured, letting Greg guide him to the bed. Covers pulled back and he climbed in, scooting over to make room for the lab rat to join him.

Greg smiled at that, a little more on the shy than cocky side since he was getting into an unfamiliar bed. He nestled into Nick's side beneath the sheets, feeling more strongly the fatigue his consuming enthusiasm over going home with Nick had been holding back to a dull buzz.

"You look tired, G." An arm wrapped around the slender frame, pulling him closer. "Ready to sleep?"

"Yeah," Greg admitted, grateful for the arm. "But.. well." He gave Nick a lazy smile. "We'll see who wakes up first, maybe?"

"Won't be me. I have day off. Night off," he corrected. He bent down, brushing his lips over Greg's. Soft, chaste, gentle.

Greg shut his eyes, almost alarmed to feel the way his heart swelled at a simple kiss like that from Nick. How it felt to be about to fall asleep with him. "Good," he whispered, opening his eyes again. "Sweet dreams." He smiled up again at Nick.

"Sleep well, Greg." Nick pulled him in closer, shifting so Greg was pressed tightly against him. He nuzzled in, cheek resting against Greg's hair. Shampoo, sweat, chemicals. Familiar and comforting, the combined warmth lulled Nick to sleep within moments.

Greg woke slowly, nose pressed into something warm and mostly smooth, but with a hint of roughness. His cheek was against something slightly fuzzy, soft, and warm. He could smell a familiar, but alien aftershave. Greg pondered the possibilities with his eyes shut. He knew who he wanted it to be -- he just didn't want to check and see in case it wasn't. Settling on a compromise, he slid one hand from bare chest beneath the sheets, opening his eyes cautiously. Nick.

Nick was still asleep, face soft, peaceful, expression bordering on blissful. Arms were wrapped around Greg, holding him closely, one hand half under the back of his waistband. It was the first time in nick didn't know how long that he'd slept so long, so well and without a nightmare.

Greg was afraid to move for a few minutes, just watching Nick's face and reveling in the sensation of waking up -- waking up in his arms. Not something you thought deeply about in the lab or late at night; tried not to, anyway, but those sordid late night fantasies you pretended you didn't have the next day? Some of them hadn't been so sordid, though they'd been just as important to deny the next morning. Until now. He rested his hand on Nick's hip and pressed his lips to the underside of his jaw, soft and slow.

Nick sighed, a soft shiver of a sound. It's been so long since someone touched him in any way outside of a slap on the shoulder; he'd forgotten what it was like. Arms tightened and he made a small shift. Hopefully he could sleep long enough to finish this dream.

Pressing himself closer in response to the tightened arms, Greg nestled his face against Nick's shoulder, squirmed close and licked slowly, savoring. Even if it all exploded in his face, he'd have this, at least. The taste. The warmth. Nick wanting him. He trailed fingers up and down Nick's spine, then bit down softly, barely scraping teeth against slicked skin.

Nick woke, whimpering quietly at the feel of that mouth. Dear God, it'd been forever since someone did this kind of thing to him. For him. With him. A hand slid up and down the soft back, fingers tracing the scars gently. That's when Nick was wide awake, the sleepy haze cleared. "Greg..?" He recognized the scent, chemicals, soap, shampoo, and something under it all, a spice that was just Greg.

Greg stopped immediately, somewhere between sheepish, guilty, and pleased. And a pang of anxiety, which he ignored, as was his custom. "... Hi." He offered lightly, looking up at Nick, watching, waiting for any sign of -- he didn't really want to think about it, and ended up making the crack he hadn't wanted to make. "Fancy meeting you here."

Nick chuckled, bent his head to press a kiss to Greg's lips. "I'm glad you're here. I can't remember the last time I slept so well." The hand that was under Greg's waistband stroked lightly over the skin there, absently tracing patterns. "You sleep okay, G?"

Greg couldn't help but melt a little into Nick, the things that'd been tense inside relaxing. In the same way the grin that curled into existence after the kiss wasn't something he could repress. "Yeah." He rested his mouth against Nick's shoulder again feeling absurdly shy at the touch of his hand, the care of it. "You have a nice bed. And, you know. It's got you in it."

"See, I was thinking it was nice because it has you in it," Nick replied, shifting onto his side so he could watch Greg as they talked. Once he was comfortable, those soft touches resumed.

"Yeah, but see, it's your bed. Infinitely adding to the inherent attractiveness of sleeping in it. No one's gonna want to sleep here 'cause Greg Sanders once slept here." Greg slid his hand from under the sheet to the back of Nick's neck, shifting contentedly against those touches. "... however many times he sleeps here. Or whatever he does in it."

"Greg, I really care about you. I don't want a fling," Nick said gently. "I don't want a notch on my headboard, I don't want a one night stand. I want a shot at a real, honest to god relationship. I'm hoping you do too."

Greg opened his mouth and shut it, trying to figure out the balance between sincere romantic fervency and scary psychotic obsession when it came to tone. "I want that. I want you. I want... us. A lot. And, you told me this and I know and I'll try to stop but it sounds -- really good when you say it."

"Good. I'm all yours, G." Nick leaned forward, lightly kissing Greg to seal his promise. Five years was too long a time to want someone and just wait like that. Tried to keep the kiss light and friendly, but he couldn't. It got hot, out of control in a heartbeat.

Surprise in his moan, and his arm tightened around Nick as Greg pressed up against the older man. Even the most detailed snatch of dreaming wasn't comparable, hadn't set his pulse racing hard and deep through him -- he couldn't help but revel in it. Mine. And... his. He slid his hand down Nick's neck again, mapping out every bump of his spine on its course downwards.

The hand slid lower, dipping dangerously low down those pants. Greg's ass was being massaged now, soft squeezes. After a long moment, Nick pulled his hand away and rolled, pinning Greg beneath him. A shift so his weight was now on his elbows and he was kissing again, groaning in pleasure when his arousal bumped Greg's through the fabric barriers. That's when the grinding started in earnest.

Greg moaned louder as he was pinned, unashamedly arching up off the bed to rub against Nick and whimpering at the friction. His arms wound around Nick's neck and shoulders, anchorage both for hungry kissing and for moving against Nick's hips in a way that made him pant.

"God, Greg. You're so beautiful. Want you, need you." Nick spoke breathlessly when he pulled back, eyes drinking in the sight of kiss swollen lips, lust hazed eyes, lightly flushed cheeks.

Cheeks got a little more flushed at that, but Greg pressed at Nick's neck to move his mouth closer again. Against Nick's lips, he whispered, "Then take me. Because god knows, it's all for you. And, god.." the whisper trailed off into whimper. ".. do I want you."

"Are you sure, Greg? I don't want to rush this. I can wait. There's other ways to please each other.." Nick trailed off, shifted his weight to slide a hand between them and cup Greg's erection, pressing his palm and rubbing gently.

Greg bit back on another sound, one hand slipping from Nick's neck to keep the other man's hand there. "Nick, you're not making much of a case..." he managed with difficulty, voice hitching in several points throughout the sentence. "In fact, you're just.. hardening my resolve, really.."

"I love it when you talk geek." Nick nipped at Greg's chin, then started to push pants out of the way, his own, then Greg's. If grinding through fabric was good...God, he had no words to describe how the first skin to skin contact felt. Nick moaned loudly, hips pressing down and back, grinding and thrusting same time. Greg's lips were captured for a kiss that bordered on brutal, all teeth and tongue and mashed lips.

Greg's grin at the nip following Nick's comment was put on hold in favor of moaning as well. Hard, hot, smoothness into friction and he wanted to touch but he couldn't stop moving, bucking and rubbing. Then his moans were muffled in that rough kiss, and if his brains weren't going to melt out his ears then he could think of something else close to leaking, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care. It felt so damn good, after so long, thinking about it and trying not to think about it, and then Nick -- everything better than he'd dared imagine -- Nick. He was groaning it, panting it.

Nick broke the kiss and rolled to his back, needed a minute to breathe, a minute to calm down before it was all over. Once he had a shred of control back he was digging in the drawer of the side table. Lube found, along with a condom. "God, Greg. I don't think I ever wanted anyone this much."

Greg put a rather proprietary arm over Nick during the minute break, trying to concentrate on slowing his heart down as well, though all progress was promptly disintegrated by Nick's words. "You keep saying what I want to say." He bit into his bottom lip and sat up a bit shakily, nodded at the condom. "I can.. put it on you." He offered, turning and sliding on the sheet toward Nick. Nick handed it over wordlessly, mouth suddenly dry at the thought of Greg touching him, preparing him to take Greg. God, that thought shattered his control, he fisted his hands, the slight pain of nails biting into his palms helped him get some semblance of willpower back.

Fleeting and entirely not innocent smile as Nick gave him the condom. Greg unwrapped it, leaned across him to deposit the paper on the nightstand, and then, watching Nick -- his clenched hands, the look on his face -- he carefully put the circle of latex within his lips. Bent over Nick, spine making a graceful line as he closed his mouth over the head of Nick's cock and slowly, carefully mouthed the condom down his length.

Nick gasped, watching his cock disappear in Greg's mouth was the biggest turn on ever. He couldn't remember ever being this desperate to bury himself inside someone. "How much prep do you need?" Greg would have to forgive the sharp question, the demanding, predatory tone. Nick was at the very end of his control.

The sharpness put a smile on Greg's face, once he was done. He put his hand on Nick, securing the condom, taking a moment to reply. "Two fingers, Nick. Two and I'll be ready for you." He whispered, taking hold of Nick's hand, eyes intent and promising. "I want you so bad." He drew two of Nick's fingers into his mouth and licked, tracing the pads with the tip of his tongue in an arch pattern -- Nick's pattern.

"Lie down," Nick snapped, reaching for the lube. His hands were shaking so badly he could barely get the cap off. Once he did, he generously coated two fingers and waited for Greg to comply.

Greg lay down, trying to breathe evenly as he drew his legs up and a little apart, arched a little off the bed just because it felt good. Tried to ignore the sharp tone and the spike of arousal it sent through him, because he wanted this to last. Tried not to think that he had something to do with it too, that this was for him -- it made his legs tremble.

In spite of his desperation, Nick was incredibly gentle. It started with a slow stroking, almost a massage to ease the tight ring. Once there was give to the skin a single finger slid inside. Slow progress, first knuckle, second knuckle. Finger crooked, searching for the hidden bundle of nerves. That's when the thrusts started, slow, measured, steady.

Greg lifted his hand off the bed to bite down on a knuckle, the whine in his throat barely audible as Nick slid a gentle finger inside him, stroking muscles into relaxation. When the thrusts started he gave up on the abused knuckle, whimper-moaned openly at the steady pace, the brush against that spot deep inside.

"So beautiful," Nick murmured. A second flinger slid in as easily and slowly as the first. Once he felt the give in the muscles he scissored, carefully stretching, making muscles loose and pliant. Nick twisted his wrist now, pumping his fingers into Greg's willing body slowly, working up in speed and intensity until he was sure Greg was ready.

Greg had his hands twisted into the sheets, little gasps punctuating some of the thrusts; the rest, he seemed to be biting down on, head pressing back against the bed as he arched against Nick's hand. "Nick, please, please... oh. Christ." He breathed, trying to work the words out without moaning them. "Want you, Nick..." Saying Nick's name made him moan despite his best efforts, eyes slitting open with difficulty, trying to find Nick's.

Nick withdrew his fingers, slicked himself with his hand. A small shift in positions and he was slowly guiding himself inside. The heat was dizzying, the tightness amazing. As much as he wanted to just slam inside Greg over and over he held himself back, going slow. Didn't want to hurt him, wanted it to be perfect for him. "Tell me if I'm hurting you," he managed to ground out, the tendons in his neck taught and defined from the level of tension he was under.

"Nick..." Greg groaned again, managing to untangle the fingers of one white-knuckled hand to dig them into Nick's back. "... more." He begged, pushing his hips up and forward to sheathe him a little more, mouth opening soundlessly at the sensation. "Fuck, oh..." He cursed, head digging into the mattress and his throat moving as he swallowed.

"So pretty when you beg," Nick whispered. Then his hands were on Greg's hips, fingers digging into and bruising pale flesh. He set a vicious pace, hard, fast with just a hint of mean, whispering praise to his lover with every harsh thrust.

Moaning and gasping Nick's name, increasingly frantic curses interspersed liberally, Greg writhed against the bruising grip and rough thrusts with nails set into Nick's back. Most of him was flushed; his legs were twisting weakly against the bed and the sheets, helpless against the onslaught.

Nick let go of one hip, moving his hand to stroke Greg's cock. In contrast to the almost vicious fuck, his hand was gentle, teasing, trying to coax Greg's orgasm from him.

Greg's hands clenched at the first stroke, legs shaking from more than the hard pace, and by the second he stiffened and spilled over Nick's hand and his stomach with a gasping cry -- tight around Nick, all of him shuddering close and hot as he spent himself deeply.

"...God," Nick panted out. One, two, three hard thrusts and he threw his head back, hips pumping as he emptied him. Slowly lowered himself down, half on, half off Greg. Panting, sweating, body and face numb.

Greg was still shaking and breathing raggedly as he slid his arms more naturally around Nick and held on tightly. Felt thoroughly fucked, felt like he was made out of rubber, felt like he might never come again. Felt like a million dollars because it was Nick. He could lie here all day, satiated and melted and sticky and aching. "Jesus," he agreed, waiting a moment more to catch more breath and then kiss Nick softly but firmly.

Nick kissed back lazily, a shaking hand moving to stroke Greg's cheek. When they broke for air, he gave Greg a good look, worry and concern in his eyes. "Did I hurt you?" He took a moment to really think about it, then shook his head. "Sore. Good. ... anytime, Nick." Greg had decided to stick to simple syllables, or at least simple sentence structures, since the last harbored a certain sincere fervency, enough to emphasize the starkness of it. Anytime, Nick. I'm yours.

"Greg," he whispered, leaning to kiss the other man again. Softly, gently, full of promises. "Greg, I love you." He hadn't meant to say that, it just slipped out. The words hung in the air for a moment, and then he nodded. Liked how they sounded, they felt right. "I love you," Nick repeated.

Greg's arms tightened more around Nick, holding onto the words as much as to Nick himself. Eventually he loosened his grip enough to slip one hand into Nick's hair, fist there gently but possessively, eyes open and unblinking up into Nick's. Tried out the words too. "I love you." He whispered cautiously, and then smiled at how it felt. Hid his face against the juncture of Nick's shoulder and neck and repeated it into skin and warmth and the smell of them.