nickngreg | Drabble!

Author: Dr FooFoo
Title: Hangman Drabble
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Spoilers: None! :P
Summary: I was playing Hangman on my computer and got "penetrate", then "smutty" and decided to play a little game that involves writing drabble that pertains to Hangman words. XD There are more, but I only liked these ones.
A/N: I don't own em, I just play with em.

***

Nick took one step into Greg's apartment and turned around again, heading back out the door. Before he could get very far, however, a hand stopped him, and he turned around once again to face Greg, who was beaming as he swayed to what seemed to be a high-pitched whine coming from the stereo.

"G, what is that?" Nick asked, wincing as he tried to escape while covering his ears. Greg looked offended and pouted dramatically.

"It's my mother, Nicky, jeez..." he said back, rolling his eyes. Finally, to Nick's partial relief, he turned back to the stereo and turned the noise down a little. "Didn't I ever tell you she used to sing opera? She's a coloratura."

Nick raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He felt somewhat better now that he knew Greg didn't listen to 'Annoying Birds In Nature' during his spare time. He also felt a little embarrassed after unknowingly insulting Greg's mother.

"Wanna see how high I can sing... in bed?" Greg asked, flashing a mischievous grin, and Nick instantly forgot about opera.

Nick was asleep on the couch when Greg snuck into his apartment late one night. He was carrying something small, round, and black, but it was too dark to make out what it was. Nick awoke with a start when Greg accidentally kicked his shoe off and it hit the wall.

"Greg...?" Nick mumbled, rolling over to peer into the darkness. "Is that you, G?"

Greg winced and swore under his breath, then sighed and trodded over to the couch, kneeling down in front of it and depositing his furry parcel on Nick's chest. Nick's eyes went wide and he squirmed suddenly when the black fuzzball moved.

"Greg, what the hell is this?" he asked, sitting up quickly and staring at the tiny black kitten in his lap. It stared up at him with huge, shiny eyes and mewed softly, then began to rub its head on Nick's thigh. Nick whimpered.

"Nick, jesus, it's just a cat..." Greg rolled his eyes and picked up the little kitten. "I found her downstairs by the front door; I think she's an orphan... She's so sweet, huh? We should name her... Jakal Moonbeam Nicholas the Third..."

Nick raised an eyebrow. "... Nicholas?"

Greg glances up from his favourite microscope when Nick saunters into the lab, and smiles a little, subtly. Nick, however, doesn't look pleased, and even frowns a bit, slapping DNA samples down on the table. Greg winces and gently organises them into a pile.

"Something wrong, Nicky?" he asks quietly, checking first to see if anyone else is within earshot before using that nickname. Nick glares at him and Greg pouts.

"I'm on a double homicide that involves two children under ten years old, the killer's still on the loose, I have nothing at all, and Grissom's taking Sara off the case for counselling," Nick spouts, rubbing his forehead with one hand. "I've got a tremendous headache and I need those samples in an hour."

Greg looks down at the samples and rolls his eyes subtly, then mumbles under his breath, "I've got a tremendous urge to give you head, but you don't see me complaining..."

Nick's halfway out the door when he stops and turns around, a faint blush already rising into his ears. "What did you just say?" he demands, thinking maybe he heard wrong, but Greg just smiles sweetly and shakes his head, then looks back down into his microscope.

Nick hesitates for a few minutes, but can't help smirking and shaking his head before leaving the lab.

"So... the phenotype of the Miller girl doesn't match what it should be, right? So she's not actually their daughter..."

"Greg, would you give me some space, please? I'm trying to work here..."

Greg pouts and backs off, flopping over onto the couch, but continues to stare at Nick working away at the kitchen table. He's wearing his vest for some reason, but Greg's totally not complaining.

"You know, Nick..." Greg starts, smirking when Nick rolls his eyes and looks up from his laptop screen. "I'd say your phenotype's pretty damn fine."

Nick turns to look at him and the familiar blush creeps its way up his neck. Greg grins and stands up to grab at Nick, dragging him towards the bedroom. Nick follows obediently, for when it comes to science-geeky pickup lines, Greg always wins.