Title: It’s a Feeling Thang, It’s a Greg Thang
Author: kliqzangel
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Based upon (This Ain’t) No Thinking Thang by Trace Adkins.

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Nick stood outside Greg’s apartment nervously staring at the door. Silently he cursed the world that seemed to be determined to keep him away from Greg that morning. Every time he’d thought he could finally leave another lead had come up on his case until finally Grissom sent him home with orders to be in a better mood that night when he came in for shift. On the way there it seemed like he’d hit every red light and by the time he’d reached Greg’s he was so frustrated he wasn’t sure he would make it up to the apartment before losing his control. Finally he worked up enough nerve that he reached out and knocked on the door, but hearing the sounds of music coming from inside he wondered if Greg would even be able to hear him.

Listening he frowned when he realized that the whatever was playing had a distinct twang to it that could only be country, but surely he had to be wrong after all this was Greg’s apartment not his. Greg would dye his hair pink before he’d listen to country music voluntarily. When he got no answer Nick reached out for the doorknob twisting it hesitantly feeling as if he was intruding even though he’d been invited. Slightly shocked when the door opened easily he headed in his expectations increasing with every moment that passed.

Shutting the door behind him Nick paused to listen to the end of the song catching only fading notes, but soon it started over again and he guessed that Greg must have the song on repeat. It didn’t take him long to place the smooth deep twang of the singer as Trace Adkins one of his favorites. There was something about that voice that got to him every time. Only the first couple lines of the song were required for him to know what it was that was playing and quickly his body began to react as if the very lyrics themselves were seeping through his skin into his blood heating it until he became warm and his pants started to grow snug.

I been thinkin' 'bout our love situation
All this attraction in the present tense
I've reached the only logical conclusion
Love ain't supposed to make sense

As if drawn by some invisible force Nick found himself moving through the apartment his feet seeming to know something his brain didn’t. While he had no notion of what he was going to find when he located Greg, ideas flew through his head each hotter and more erotic than the last until his breath was coming out almost in a pant and his jeans felt like they'd have to be cut off to be removed safely.

Finding himself at the bedroom door, which had been left ajar, Nick reached out and pushed it open. Panting suddenly became a non- issue as he stopped breathing altogether taking in the sight before him. The bed was covered in pristine white cotton sheets, the headboard was almost completely obscured by all the pillows propped up against it and there in the middle lay Greg in all of his naked glory.

This ain't no thinkin` thing, right brain, left brain
It goes a little deeper than that
It's a chemical, physical, emotional devotion
Passion that we can't hold back
There's nothin` that we need to analyze
There ain't no rhyme or reason why
'Cause this ain't, this ain't no thinkin` thing

One long leg was stretched out laying flat against the mattress while the other was bent Greg’s foot resting flat against the sheet. His hips were rocking slowly to some beat that only he heard. One hand was moving languidly up and down his chest brushing over smooth pale skin occasionally pausing to twist or pinch a nipple before starting its journey again. The other moved no faster, but it rested just slightly further down, his fingers curled slightly as they moved over his cock like he had all the time in the world to just lie there and touch himself.

Nick couldn’t stop the moan that escaped his lips, his own hands curling into tight fists. The need to touch and be touched becoming more and more urgent. His gaze moved up to Greg’s face finding his eyes heavy lidded and his lips parted slightly. “Whatcha waitin’ on Nicky?” Greg asked softly his voce taking on a husky tone that furthered the job that the song had started.

And then he was moving again.

His body propelled forward once more thinking on its own. Shoes were kicked off, pants and boxers removed in one swift motion and his shirt was torn off probably ripped beyond repair. By the time he reached the edge of the bed all he could focus on was Greg’s lips wondering how they would feel against his own.

Forget mathematical equations
Self help psychology
Gray matter don't matter much darlin`
When it's gettin` down to you and me

“Anxious Nicky?” Greg whispered before their lips touched and Nick’s entire world collapsed to contain only the space of the bed.

Nick wanted to respond but before he could their mouths finally touched and his heated blood burst into flames as Greg’s essence began to scorch itself onto his soul He wanted to touch him everywhere at once almost desperate as his mind fought with the notion that after all the long endless nights praying for Greg’s presence to make his dreams real this moment was finally happening. “Baby, relax,” Greg moaned pulling back and taking Nick’s face between his hands. “We have all the time in the world.”

Nick shook his head his pupils dilated; his fingers digging into Greg’s arms so tightly that there would surely be deep bruises later, but at that moment it didn’t matter. “No G please,” Nick begged afraid that if they took their time something else would happen and this moment would be lost to him forever. “Not today, not tonight, not now some other day we can take it as slow as you want, but tonight I need this before someone takes it away.”

Greg studied Nick carefully before leaning in until their lips almost touched. “Your wish is my command, Nick. Do you want to take or be taken?”

Stealing another hot and quick kiss, this time Nick pulled back before he spoke. His drawl thicker even to his own ears as he realized his dreams would never again be lived only in his sleep. “Take me, brand me, burn me, make me just don’t stop until I belong to you and anyone who looks at me can see it.”

This ain't no thinkin` thing, right brain, left brain
It goes a little deeper than that
It's a chemical, physical, emotional devotion
Passion that we can't hold back
There's nothin` that we need to analyze
There ain't no rhyme or reason why
'Cause this ain't, this ain't no thinkin` thing

Nick whimpered when Greg grabbed him throwing him down to the bed his mouth moving down his body sucking, biting, tasting, marking insuring that it would be obvious to all that this Texan labeled lady’s man was in fact now his man. He felt Nick writhing under him helplessly begging and pleading for more submitting to his will, to his dominance as if he knew that this was the way it had always been meant to be.

Skin touched skin, cock rubbed against cock as their bodies danced until Nick wanted to cry from need. “Please G please please make me yours please take me and brand me please I need you inside me so bad so good so hot so hard please G please G please…” Nick chanted endlessly until his words were all Greg knew and what little control he had left was shattered.

Lifting his mouth from the heated skin of Nick’s hip where it had been sucking and lifting his hands from the thigh and rod he’d been stroking, Greg crawled up Nick’s body reaching under the pillows as his mouth hovered over Nick’s “Your wish,” he whispered pulling out a condom and a tube of lube .

Nick closed his eyes listening to his own breath coming out in quick gasps and the sounds Greg was making as he moved around somewhere at the end of the bed. He jumped when Greg’s fingers slipped between his butt cheeks and into his hole one at a time stroking, stretching, caressing as he watched the emotions play across Nicks face, the sheet twisted in his hands until he judged that Nick couldn’t take anymore.

His fingers slipped out, picking up the condom, tearing open the package and removing its contents. Again he watched Nick as he worked the rubber over his cock and coated it with lube. “Open your eyes Nicky. Open those beautiful brown windows so I can see into your soul while I make you mine.”

Nick’s eyes fluttered open the passion, the need, and the craving easily visible in them. Then Greg plunged in sensing it was what Nick wanted hoping the pleasure over rode the pain as he began his rhythm the slow and gentle motion he’d been using on himself earlier forgotten something more primal taking its place. This wasn’t about love. That would come tomorrow or some day after. This was about giving Nick what he had been longing for. This was about burning away every other person who had ever shared a similar moment from Nick’s brain, from his every memory until the slate was scorched clean and only he would exist when he was finished.

Nick was on overload. His mind long ago shut down. His whole existence burnt down to only him and Greg. This was everything he wanted Greg possessing him, robbing him of the ability to think ceasing control if for only these moments leaving him with only pure ecstasy and blissful peace in the aftermath.

He didn’t love him. Not today, not yet, but he would soon not tomorrow either but maybe the day after because he believed. Greg’s hand flew over his cock and he pounded his ass so hard his balls slapped against him nearly coming all the way out before shoving himself in again until Nick saw only bright white, his seed spilling, Greg’s name erupting from deep within his chest. As his body trembled and his chest heaved he sensed Greg finding his own release. Nick’s name mingling with the softest of moans as Nick felt the circle of his life become whole.

There's nothing that we need to analyze
There ain't no rhyme or reason why
'Cause this ain't, this ain't no thinkin` thing
This ain't, no this ain't no thinkin` thing

Afterwards Nick found himself laying in the quiet of the house Greg’s heavy breaths mixing with his own and Trace’s soothing voice filling the space around them enjoying just being there feeling no urge to move or leave knowing without feeling the need to ask that he was welcomed there as long as he wanted to be. The bed shifted and turning his head he saw Greg slip across the room into the bathroom and while he watched his new lover’s body move with a grace he hadn’t anticipated he realized that maybe Trace was right. Maybe it ain’t no thinkin thang. Maybe it was a feeling thang. Maybe, hopefully, without a doubt it was a forever thang. Maybe though maybe the real answer was that it was a Greg thang and watching the man in question coming back Nick was glad he’d taken up that offer for a ride on the Greg Sanders Express. The next stop unknown, but he wasn’t worried. The destination didn’t matter as long as Greg was the one controlling the ride.

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