Just a Hodad Here

[quettaser.livejournal.com]

New short fic, (500 words) with some of the most fun research I've ever done. Oh, and if the title doesn't make sense, wait until the A/N at the end. Enjoy!

Title: Meatball
Author: Quettaser
Rating: PG-13 (oh no! A bad word!)
Summary: Done for csi_missing_500. Post-Ep for And Then There Were None. Greg's never carved an ankle-buster...

x-posted to csi_missing_500 n nickngreg


   
      “So, Greg, have you ever carved an ankle-buster?”

      “Huh?” replied Greg as he exited the bathroom, towel wrapped around his hips. Nick was sitting on the bed, putting on his shoes.

      “You know, surfing?”

      Nervousness flickered across Greg’s face. Nick didn’t notice. “Oh, yeah…right. I’ve done it dozens of times.”

      “Ever Quasimoto on a pounder?” Nick was now watching Greg intently, having heard the light quiver in his voice.

      “Why do you care?” countered Greg, breaking eye contact and going in search of his clothing. He found his boxers first, putting them on before putting the towel in the bathroom.

      “I’m just curious. I never knew that you liked surfing so much.”

      “Well, having lived in California, you can’t help but get involved with it.” Greg was now searching around the side of the bed. “Where are my pants?”

      “I think they’re out in the living room. You know, it’s okay to start leaving clothes here.”

      “For me, the process of getting dressed is a very intuitive and creative experience and I need all of my wardrobe in one place so that I can work with my full palette. Otherwise my artistic genius gets stunted,” said Greg, pulling on his shirt, which had somehow ended up on the dresser.

      Nick chuckled, earning a playful glare from Greg. “So, ever double spinner in a green room?” he asked, earnestly.

      Greg sighed, nervousness flitting across his features again. “Look, I don’t surf, okay? I don’t even think you’re speaking English.”

      “You think I care that you don’t know how to surf?”

      Greg shrugged. “I don’t know...I’m just tired…you know…of being the nerdy lab rat. I had to live with that stigma for long enough. Why do you think I do this to my hair?”

      “Because you’re crazy?”

      Greg rolled his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, I really like all the things I say I do, it’s just, sometimes I’ll fib a bit about it,” said Greg, pouting a little, but smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Nick could tell he was feeding off his own unconcerned reaction.

      “Well, I don’t care that you’re a grommet who’s never dropped a knee,” said Nick, getting up, kissing Greg softly on the cheek.

      “Where did you learn all the terms so fast?”

      “I did a little research on it I am interested in what you like, I want us to have something in common besides work.”

      “We have plenty in common,” said Greg, placing his hands on Nick’s hips. “Uhh…we both like cock?”

      “I should hope so, otherwise this relationship could be in trouble.”

      Greg’s smile widened at the mention of the word “relationship,” and it didn’t go unnoticed by Nick. “So, do you think it counts that I’ve always wanted to surf and that I think that given teaching, I’d be pretty awesome at it?”

      “Surfing’s just a state of mind, right? But I think you’d be just fine. And besides, the term is ‘gnarlatious.’”

      “Fer sure, dude…now, where are my pants?”




Fin!

A/N: Meatball is a surfing term referring to the "no surfing" signs. Get the title yet? Just wait for it...and there you go. For more boss and primo surfing terminology, go here.