nickngreg | Fic: Remote - KisMeKilMeLuvMe (Reply)

Yey! My best friend wrote me another fic --- though I know she is secretly trying to kill me... Death by laughter may actually be plasuible. You can't do it quietly, that's for sure.

Title: Remote
Chapters: Oneshot.
Author:

kismekilmeluvme
Genre: Drabble
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG/PG-13
Summary: I’ve always known, as I was told constantly during my childhood, that life is not perfect.

Remote

I’ve always known, as I was told constantly during my childhood, that life is not perfect. And honestly, right now, my life sucks. Here I am, at home and alone no less, stuck in bed with my right foot up on a huge pillow and a freezing bag of ice covering my ankle. I can’t do anything for myself. And hell, I can’t reach the damned remote sitting on the opposite side of the bed. Where’s Nicky when I need him most?

Sure, I know we have to work to pay the bills, but damn it! I’m home, handicapped, and he’s out digging through the dirt in the middle of the Las Vegas desert for bones on some lead to a cold case. Now what’s more important, hm? Me, his hot, sexy, incapable lover who needs him because I can’t reach the damned changer, or bones in a desert? That man needs to sort out his priorities.

Had I not missed the darned step at the crime scene last night—No! Had Nicky not decided to look the other way, searching for whatever he was with those stupid little flashlights they make us carry around, and instead grabbed me before I fell, I wouldn’t be here. This is his fault! Yes. I’m innocent, as per usual. He can’t resist my innocence and my pout. I’m just that irresistible.

When I look at the clock, I see that it’s after one in the morning. I don’t give a damn what the hell kind of case he’s working on or how absolutely fascinating the evidence is, and I really couldn’t care less if he solves the case tonight. I want him home, and I want that damned changer now. Dax and Maverick are sound asleep at the foot of the bed, so they aren’t much help. And Dax is suspiciously close to my sprained ankle, and I have the sudden urge to accidentally roll it off the pillow and onto his head just to see what he’d do. But then I realize that it’d hurt me, too, so I don’t. Fine, stupid ankle, spoil my fun. I have no remote; I have no form of entertainment. Nicky said I should start reading more books, that my magazines and comic books aren’t good for my brain. Doesn’t he realize by now the lack of brain that I have? Anyway, that novel he gave me for my birthday not too long ago is staring at me on my bedside table. And as much as I love vampire romance, Twilight isn’t my thing tonight. No, I want to watch Queer as Folk. I want to watch Brian help Justin get used to people again. Oh, of course, the sex is great, too.

Hm. Now I want sex. Oh, great. I want sex, and he’s not here to provide me with it. What kind of a boyfriend is he? Damn it! He’s not here to get the dogs away from my foot, give me the remote, or give me sex. He sucks…and he’s good at that, too. Ah, damn it. Now I’m hard. I wonder what he’d think if he came home to see me, handicapped, but not really because my hands aren’t capped—they’re wrapped around Greg Jr.—pleasuring myself without him. Well…this isn’t much fun. It’s more fun with his big, strong hands wrapped around Greg Jr. I can close my eyes, can’t I? No. That sucks, too.

Damn it!

Hey! That’s the front door! He’s home! Good. Now the dogs will get off the bed, I’ll get my remote, and hopefully I’ll get sex.

“Hey, baby, how’re you feeling?” Nicky asks as he walks into our room, obviously satisfied with closing the case. Ass.

“Like shit.” I glare at him. “Nicky~…” I whine when he steps into the bathroom.

“What?” He replies, his voice mumbled by the oddness of a toothbrush and mint toothpaste. That was fast. Apparently he’s tired. Oh-ho-ho. Not tonight. Tonight he has some things to take care of, and Greg Jr. is standing at attention, obviously interested.

Needless to say, Nicky only takes a few minutes in the bathroom to do his business and turn out the light, throwing his clothes to the floor as he makes hi way to bed.

“Nicky, I want the remote and I can’t reach it.” I pout.

Nicky picks up the remote, and I’m happy because now I get to watch Queer as Folk. Or not. He puts it on the nightstand.

“Nicky!” I whine again.

“What?” He slides into bed beneath the covers, and Maverick and Dax quickly curl around his legs. Oh, no, this isn’t fair.

“Nicky, I want to watch Q.A.F.! And get Dax and Maverick off the bed, away from my foot!”

“Darling, you have the entire series on DVD. You can miss one Showtime episode. And Dax and Maverick are keeping me warm.” He said, turning out the lights. Okay, time for plan three.

“Nicky?” I whisper once he’s settled into bed, ignoring the scoff I want to release so badly.

“What?” He asks for the third time, obviously annoyed by my constant whining.

“Nick…” I lean across the bed, brushing my lips against his cheek before capturing his own in a sweet kiss.

“If you wanted the remote, Gregory, you could have leaned across the bed to reach it. Dax and Maverick aren’t moving as they’re doing a better job of keeping me warm than you are, and we’re not having sex because you’re being a spoiled brat, and I’m exhausted.”

I nod to myself, returning to my former position and sliding down in bed, irritated when Maverick decided to lay his head on my thigh, breathing right over my boxer-clad hips and Greg Jr. Yup. My life sucks.