nickngreg | Dirty Lab Boy 1/?

mawishness.livejournal.com posting in

Title: Dirty Lab Boy
Author: Ice Queen
Rating: NC17
Warnings/Spoilers: N/A
Summary: It's Gregs turn to pose in front of the camera. Sequel to Ride Em Cowboy.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to do this.”

“You’ll be fine, it will only be us three here, and you won’t even notice him once you really start to get into it.”

“Did I ever tell you I get stage fright easily?”

Nick almost drops the stack of clean sheets he’s carrying as he walks back into the master bedroom, trying to stifle back a laugh at the absurd confession that has just escaped from his young lover’s soft lips.

“So let me get this right; you can put on a head dress and dance around the halls of the lab, you can wear a rubber glove on your head in front of Grissom without a problem, and you can shove random objects up your nose without caring who sees it, but you can’t handle taking solo shots that no one besides you and I will see?”

“And the photographer, don’t forget.”

Nick raises an eyebrow at the younger CSI across the bed from him, his eyes cast down in embarrassment and his cheeks flushing a shady red as he tucks the edges of the sheet under the corners of the bed. His eyes skim past the few items sitting on the nightstand that Nick borrowed from work for him to wear, and he can’t help but let a moan pass his lips when he feels strong arms wrap around his waist, a warm breath dancing across his neck and hands hovering dangerously close to the button of his jeans.

“There’s really nothing to worry about. It may be a little awkward at first, but then you get so caught up in the pleasure that you’re giving yourself that you don’t even notice he’s there. Besides, I’ll be here for encouragement, just in case you run into any… problems.”

Nick picks up the cowboy hat from the nightstand and pulls it over his own head, turning Greg around in his arms and ghosting their lips past each other as he lets his hands slide between their bodies and unbuttons the tight jeans, watching Greg’s eyes flutter close and his hips thrust forward.

“Why don’t you… practice until the photographer gets here.”

Greg’s back hit’s the firm mattress with a silent grunt passing his lips, his eyelids opening just enough to stare at the man standing between his legs, carefully pulling down the zipper of his jeans so slowly that he can feel it against his erection. He knows the older man is teasing him, and he swats the hands away to take care of it himself, his jeans crumpling to the floor in a heap as a gasp escapes Nick at seeing the young CSI going commando after a long day of work.

His eyes never leave the man in front of him as he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it to meet with his jeans, his legs still hanging over the edge of the bed as one hand travels down his chest, tweaking a nipple a few times before traveling further to trace lazy circles around his naval.

Nick has to grab the edge of the nightstand to keep himself upright, his eyes watching the slow movements very carefully, his tongue swiping over dry lips while he struggles to keep himself from reaching out and grabbing the hard cock that’s resting against the younger man’s abdomen.

Greg’s hand travels down further, bypassing his erection and running down the inside of his thigh, pulling his knees up slightly as his hand makes it’s way back up, his head pushing back into the mattress and his eyes closing tightly as he slips one finger past the tight ring of muscles, his other hand traveling down to grab his balls and massage them gently.

His eyes flicker open when he hears a loud moan ripple throughout the roam, and he grins when he sees Nick rubbing himself through the rough material of his jeans, his attention so focused on the man laying on the mattress that he doesn’t hear the repeated knock at the door until Greg stops all of his actions. He can see the younger man’s lips moving, trying to tell him something, and Greg rolls his eyes as he stands up off the bed, his erection bobbing against his body as he grabs Nick by the shoulders and pushes him in the direction of the door.

“The photographer’s here. You go let him in, and I’ll finish everything up in here.”

Greg flicks the rim of the cowboy hat with his fingers before slapping the older man on the ass and moving back over to the nightstand to get ready for his moment in front of the camera.