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nickngregTitle: the agreement (i look at you with eyes in love)
Rating: PG-13 for sex
Warnings: Sex, swearing and Nick in pain
Spoilers: “Grave Danger” and “Fannysmackin’”
Summary: It started after Nick was buried alive.
A/N: A wee story that is, obviously, Nick/Greg. Surprisingly, Sara isn’t in it! ::gaspshockhorror:: Instead, Hodges does, because, damn if Hodges isn’t working his way into my top five favorite characters list. For some reason, I prefer Greg as the “bad guy” and not Nick. I also prefer Greg topping Nick. I dunno, either. Also, the first bit is a flashback and the rest is in the present. Takes place some time in between “Fannysmackin’” and “Double-Cross”. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its respectful owner.
A very special thanks to Denver who gave me the car analogy. You are so awesome, and I would do the same for you, bb. xoxo, Liz.
i.
It started after Nick was buried alive.
He and Greg were at some bar, drinking tequila in Greg’s case and vodka in Nick’s. The alcohol, of course, was an escape from the pain and they tried to numb it as well as they could. They were trying to have fun, but every smile was fake, every laugh forced. Greg’s jokes were at a minimum and even his hair lay flat.
Greg smoked twelve cigarettes in the bar and Nick didn’t turn down his offer for one. Anything to keep the pain at bay.
When Nick said he was calling it a night, Greg caught his arm and Nick felt fire bloom under his touch. “You should come over, Nicky,” Greg said, his voice husky from the smoke, crackling with music.
“I can’t, G,” Nick began, then reconsidered. His room held too many memories, too much pain, nightmares and shadows and the faint smell of ether. “Okay. Let’s go.”
It started in the car when Nick grabbed Greg’s thigh to steady himself after he sat down and held on for a little too long.
It started when Greg didn’t even move or look at him funny.
It kept going when Nick felt daring and let his hand slide up Greg’s thigh as Greg drove. Greg just looked at him and gave him a flirtatious smile, his bedroom eyes dark and lustful.
When Greg parked his car in the parking lot, both men had full erections and Nick was pawing at him, kissing him, tasting smoke and liquor and something distinctly Greg. “No,” Greg panted. “No, Nicky, not here. Not here.”
“Why not?” Nick asked, pulling away a little.
Greg smoothed down his hair, looked around anxiously, his lips swollen and red. “’Cos someone might see. Come on.” He climbed out of the car and opened Nick’s door for him. Nick laughed a little at Greg’s gesture and Greg winked at him.
The seventy-two second walk from Greg’s car to his apartment felt like an eternity to Nick and he swore several times as Greg fumbled with his keys. When he heard the lock click, he shoved Greg inside, pressing the blonde against the wall, kissing him frantically. It was all heat and sweat and grunts and not enough skin.
Nick slid his hand in between Greg’s long, lithe legs and squeezed, groped. Begged for release. He felt Greg melt a little under his hands. “Bedroom’s that way,” Greg panted, gesticulating a little in the general direction of his bedroom.
Nick bit down on Greg’s neck hard. “Take me there,” he growled and Greg did. Soon, Nick found himself on his hands and knees with Greg behind him, sliding one, two slicked fingers inside him, probing before finally pressing himself inside. “Oh… fuck,” Nick moaned, rocking his hips. “G… I’ve never… Never done this before,” he confessed.
“Shh,” Greg whispered. “It’s okay.”
Moments later, rocking against Greg, moving in time with Greg’s thrusts, Nick came, harder than he ever had in his life. He cried out Greg’s name the entire time and it wasn’t until he laid tangled in Greg’s thin, strong arms that he realized he was crying.
Greg kissed his cheeks. “It’s okay, Nick,” he whispered.
Nick nodded and looked hard at Greg. “They can never find out.”
“I know. This’ll be our agreement. Our secret,” Greg murmured. After a moment, he added, “No love, either.”
“Why not?” Nick asked.
Greg locks eyes with him. “Because love is just another way to get hurt. We can’t afford any more pain.”
They fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.
ii.
Every night, it’s like they die together.
Nick keens, his voice reaching pitches he never knew he had before and Greg pants, his breath hot and damp against Nick’s skin. Sweat beads on their foreheads and Nick will do anything for Greg, no matter how absurd. He belongs to Greg, Greg is his master, he is Greg’s plaything.
For some reason, this doesn’t bother him like it probably should. He doesn’t mind that he’s like Greg’s pet because as long as he’s near Greg, he’ll be happy. And maybe it’s unhealthy, but he doesn’t give a fuck because Greg’s moving in and out of him in quick thrusts and Nick lets out a groan as Greg presses right there and loses himself, pouring into Nick’s core and going limp.
Nick comes moments later and that moment is perfect – he’s high and everything is white. He thinks his heart beats itself out because it stops beating and he’s not breathing in that one achingly beautiful moment.
He clings to Greg like a child and Greg strokes his hair as he comes down from the glorious high. They are a heap of tangled, sweaty limbs, limp and spent. Greg presses a kiss to Nick’s hair and rests his damp forehead against Nick’s temple.
Greg always falls asleep first and Nick always admires him as he sleeps. He looks so soft and gentle and innocent. Sometimes his mouth hangs open a little, sometimes he smiles or laughs.
Greg is always awake when Nick wakes. When Nick wakes up, he feels reborn. He smiles sleepily, says, “Hey, you,” and kisses Nick’s lips quickly. Then he’s all business, getting up and showered. Eating breakfast and getting dressed. There’s always another crime, more evidence to pour over, suspects to interrogate.
Sometimes, Nick wakes up to an empty bed and he gropes for the body he knows isn’t there.
iii.
Sitting in the break room, Nick wonders about the rest of the team. Do they know? Do they see the quick, darting glances between them. Do they wonder at the angry, red marks sometimes present on Nick’s neck? Do they notice that sometimes Nick has troubles walking and sitting down?
“You say ‘jump’ and I say ‘how high?’” Greg said once, but it’s really not like that, not any more. Greg has Nick wrapped around his little finger and Nick’s pretty sure Greg has no idea of this.
He watches Greg walk into the room singing Bad Company’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love” and winking at Nick. “Hey, Greg– ” Nick begins.
“Yes, Nicky?” Greg asks, all innocence and wide brown eyes.
I love you, Nick doesn’t say. “You… you did well today,” he manages.
Greg grins and pours himself a cup of coffee. “Thanks,” he returns. “See you later.”
“Yeah,” Nick says faintly.
iv.
It couldn’t be that hard, could it? It was just three small words, maybe more if Nick wanted to add a lot or really or I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, even if you have awful taste in music.
Because Nick Stokes has fallen head-over-heels, rainbows-and-unicorns, no-going-back-now in love with Greg Sanders and he wants the world to know. He wants to climb to the top of the Excalibur hotel and shout it from the roof, he wants to enter some huge karaoke contest and say it in front of a few thousand people. He wants to sent a mass e-mail that says, I LOVE GREG SANDERS!!!!! with that many exclamation points to everyone in the world.
Instead, though, he’s reduced to what he’s pretty sure is a pity fuck and, fuck, that hurts.
“Rough day?” Hodges asks.
“Huh?” Nick blinks.
Hodges sighs in that superior way he does and says, “You’ve got bags under your eyes, your eyes are bloodshot, you’re staring off in space and you almost fell asleep on my samples. Also, you have– ” Hodges pauses to count, “ –four hickeys on your neck.”
Wordlessly, Nick touches his neck. “Oh.”
He looks across the hall to DNA and sees Greg laughing and joking with Wendy. Greg’s hand brushes across Wendy’s arm and Nick remembers how that same hand pinned him down less than twenty-four hours ago. Greg grins, showing off his white smile and Nick’s skin tingles where those teeth left a mark.
“You know, have you ever considered telling Greg that you’re in love with him?”
Shit. Nick forgot Hodges was still there. Well, technically, it’s Hodges’s lab, so he had every right to still be there. “What?”
Hodges smirks. “I am a very detail-oriented person, Stokes. Trust me. I know when two people are going at it.”
“When was the last time you got laid?” Nick asks.
Holding up one finger, Hodges says, “This isn’t about me, Stokes. It’s about you and that ridiculous face you make when you look at Sanders. You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who’d want a guy like Sanders. You seem more like kinda guy who’d want someone straight-laced and– ”
Nick stares at him, mouth agape. “What makes you think I’m not into women?” he demands.
The smirk is back. “Stokes, aside from having The Nose, I also have a fantastic gaydar. You’d be surprised. By the way, the hair on your vic is consistent with those on a big horned sheep.” He hands Nick the analysis and smiles. “Have a nice day.”
v.
Nick’s a little pissed when he finds out that Brass is driving Greg home from the hospital after the beating, if only because Greg is his… Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Fuck buddy? Paramour? Whatever.
He slams on the brakes and parks his truck, taking the steps two at a time until he reaches Greg’s door. He bangs on it insistently. “Open up, Greg! It’s Nick. I need to talk to you!”
Greg opens the door slowly, revealing a scared-looking, black and blue face. “Nick. Hi.”
Nick doesn’t waste any time because time is so precious and he grabs Greg by the front of his shirt and pulls him into kiss. When he breaks away, he whispers, “I love you.”
Blinking a little, Greg steps back. “Um, would you like to come inside?”
Nick stares at him, dumbfounded. “Greg, what the hell is this?”
“My apartment?”
“Don’t be a smartass. I… Am I just a fling to you?” Nick tries to fight off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that says, I never should have come here, I just ruined this, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Greg cocks his head. “No. No, Nicky, you’re not just a fling.” Greg laughs. “Wow. This is… This is complicated. Um. See, I thought that I was the fling and you were just using me for sex after, er, you know. But you kept it going, so I thought you were into guys but never wanted a serious relationship.”
Still dumbfounded, Nick says, “You were the one who said ‘no love’.”
“Yeah, to protect myself,” Greg fires back hotly. “Because I was sure that you’d end it and go off with, I dunno, Cath or Sofia and leave me in the dust. The ‘no love’ rule was for me, mostly, because I didn’t want to get hurt.” Greg looks at him with large, beautiful eyes. “I love you, Nicky, and I didn’t –don’t– want to lose you.”
Pressing his lips together, Nick begins, “So… So, all this time I’ve been wanting to tell you that if you told me it’d be a great idea if I stole a car, set it on fire and drove it off a cliff and I would say, ‘standard or automatic?’ I could’ve told you and you wouldn’t have been freaked out?”
Greg chuckles. “Seriously, Nick, I would be more freaked if you didn’t love me.” He nods at the inside of his apartment. “Wanna come in?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Nick makes a mental note to thank Hodges later.
end
Rating: PG-13 for sex
Warnings: Sex, swearing and Nick in pain
Spoilers: “Grave Danger” and “Fannysmackin’”
Summary: It started after Nick was buried alive.
A/N: A wee story that is, obviously, Nick/Greg. Surprisingly, Sara isn’t in it! ::gaspshockhorror:: Instead, Hodges does, because, damn if Hodges isn’t working his way into my top five favorite characters list. For some reason, I prefer Greg as the “bad guy” and not Nick. I also prefer Greg topping Nick. I dunno, either. Also, the first bit is a flashback and the rest is in the present. Takes place some time in between “Fannysmackin’” and “Double-Cross”. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its respectful owner.
A very special thanks to Denver who gave me the car analogy. You are so awesome, and I would do the same for you, bb. xoxo, Liz.
i.
It started after Nick was buried alive.
He and Greg were at some bar, drinking tequila in Greg’s case and vodka in Nick’s. The alcohol, of course, was an escape from the pain and they tried to numb it as well as they could. They were trying to have fun, but every smile was fake, every laugh forced. Greg’s jokes were at a minimum and even his hair lay flat.
Greg smoked twelve cigarettes in the bar and Nick didn’t turn down his offer for one. Anything to keep the pain at bay.
When Nick said he was calling it a night, Greg caught his arm and Nick felt fire bloom under his touch. “You should come over, Nicky,” Greg said, his voice husky from the smoke, crackling with music.
“I can’t, G,” Nick began, then reconsidered. His room held too many memories, too much pain, nightmares and shadows and the faint smell of ether. “Okay. Let’s go.”
It started in the car when Nick grabbed Greg’s thigh to steady himself after he sat down and held on for a little too long.
It started when Greg didn’t even move or look at him funny.
It kept going when Nick felt daring and let his hand slide up Greg’s thigh as Greg drove. Greg just looked at him and gave him a flirtatious smile, his bedroom eyes dark and lustful.
When Greg parked his car in the parking lot, both men had full erections and Nick was pawing at him, kissing him, tasting smoke and liquor and something distinctly Greg. “No,” Greg panted. “No, Nicky, not here. Not here.”
“Why not?” Nick asked, pulling away a little.
Greg smoothed down his hair, looked around anxiously, his lips swollen and red. “’Cos someone might see. Come on.” He climbed out of the car and opened Nick’s door for him. Nick laughed a little at Greg’s gesture and Greg winked at him.
The seventy-two second walk from Greg’s car to his apartment felt like an eternity to Nick and he swore several times as Greg fumbled with his keys. When he heard the lock click, he shoved Greg inside, pressing the blonde against the wall, kissing him frantically. It was all heat and sweat and grunts and not enough skin.
Nick slid his hand in between Greg’s long, lithe legs and squeezed, groped. Begged for release. He felt Greg melt a little under his hands. “Bedroom’s that way,” Greg panted, gesticulating a little in the general direction of his bedroom.
Nick bit down on Greg’s neck hard. “Take me there,” he growled and Greg did. Soon, Nick found himself on his hands and knees with Greg behind him, sliding one, two slicked fingers inside him, probing before finally pressing himself inside. “Oh… fuck,” Nick moaned, rocking his hips. “G… I’ve never… Never done this before,” he confessed.
“Shh,” Greg whispered. “It’s okay.”
Moments later, rocking against Greg, moving in time with Greg’s thrusts, Nick came, harder than he ever had in his life. He cried out Greg’s name the entire time and it wasn’t until he laid tangled in Greg’s thin, strong arms that he realized he was crying.
Greg kissed his cheeks. “It’s okay, Nick,” he whispered.
Nick nodded and looked hard at Greg. “They can never find out.”
“I know. This’ll be our agreement. Our secret,” Greg murmured. After a moment, he added, “No love, either.”
“Why not?” Nick asked.
Greg locks eyes with him. “Because love is just another way to get hurt. We can’t afford any more pain.”
They fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms.
ii.
Every night, it’s like they die together.
Nick keens, his voice reaching pitches he never knew he had before and Greg pants, his breath hot and damp against Nick’s skin. Sweat beads on their foreheads and Nick will do anything for Greg, no matter how absurd. He belongs to Greg, Greg is his master, he is Greg’s plaything.
For some reason, this doesn’t bother him like it probably should. He doesn’t mind that he’s like Greg’s pet because as long as he’s near Greg, he’ll be happy. And maybe it’s unhealthy, but he doesn’t give a fuck because Greg’s moving in and out of him in quick thrusts and Nick lets out a groan as Greg presses right there and loses himself, pouring into Nick’s core and going limp.
Nick comes moments later and that moment is perfect – he’s high and everything is white. He thinks his heart beats itself out because it stops beating and he’s not breathing in that one achingly beautiful moment.
He clings to Greg like a child and Greg strokes his hair as he comes down from the glorious high. They are a heap of tangled, sweaty limbs, limp and spent. Greg presses a kiss to Nick’s hair and rests his damp forehead against Nick’s temple.
Greg always falls asleep first and Nick always admires him as he sleeps. He looks so soft and gentle and innocent. Sometimes his mouth hangs open a little, sometimes he smiles or laughs.
Greg is always awake when Nick wakes. When Nick wakes up, he feels reborn. He smiles sleepily, says, “Hey, you,” and kisses Nick’s lips quickly. Then he’s all business, getting up and showered. Eating breakfast and getting dressed. There’s always another crime, more evidence to pour over, suspects to interrogate.
Sometimes, Nick wakes up to an empty bed and he gropes for the body he knows isn’t there.
iii.
Sitting in the break room, Nick wonders about the rest of the team. Do they know? Do they see the quick, darting glances between them. Do they wonder at the angry, red marks sometimes present on Nick’s neck? Do they notice that sometimes Nick has troubles walking and sitting down?
“You say ‘jump’ and I say ‘how high?’” Greg said once, but it’s really not like that, not any more. Greg has Nick wrapped around his little finger and Nick’s pretty sure Greg has no idea of this.
He watches Greg walk into the room singing Bad Company’s “Feel Like Makin’ Love” and winking at Nick. “Hey, Greg– ” Nick begins.
“Yes, Nicky?” Greg asks, all innocence and wide brown eyes.
I love you, Nick doesn’t say. “You… you did well today,” he manages.
Greg grins and pours himself a cup of coffee. “Thanks,” he returns. “See you later.”
“Yeah,” Nick says faintly.
iv.
It couldn’t be that hard, could it? It was just three small words, maybe more if Nick wanted to add a lot or really or I would love to spend the rest of my life with you, even if you have awful taste in music.
Because Nick Stokes has fallen head-over-heels, rainbows-and-unicorns, no-going-back-now in love with Greg Sanders and he wants the world to know. He wants to climb to the top of the Excalibur hotel and shout it from the roof, he wants to enter some huge karaoke contest and say it in front of a few thousand people. He wants to sent a mass e-mail that says, I LOVE GREG SANDERS!!!!! with that many exclamation points to everyone in the world.
Instead, though, he’s reduced to what he’s pretty sure is a pity fuck and, fuck, that hurts.
“Rough day?” Hodges asks.
“Huh?” Nick blinks.
Hodges sighs in that superior way he does and says, “You’ve got bags under your eyes, your eyes are bloodshot, you’re staring off in space and you almost fell asleep on my samples. Also, you have– ” Hodges pauses to count, “ –four hickeys on your neck.”
Wordlessly, Nick touches his neck. “Oh.”
He looks across the hall to DNA and sees Greg laughing and joking with Wendy. Greg’s hand brushes across Wendy’s arm and Nick remembers how that same hand pinned him down less than twenty-four hours ago. Greg grins, showing off his white smile and Nick’s skin tingles where those teeth left a mark.
“You know, have you ever considered telling Greg that you’re in love with him?”
Shit. Nick forgot Hodges was still there. Well, technically, it’s Hodges’s lab, so he had every right to still be there. “What?”
Hodges smirks. “I am a very detail-oriented person, Stokes. Trust me. I know when two people are going at it.”
“When was the last time you got laid?” Nick asks.
Holding up one finger, Hodges says, “This isn’t about me, Stokes. It’s about you and that ridiculous face you make when you look at Sanders. You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who’d want a guy like Sanders. You seem more like kinda guy who’d want someone straight-laced and– ”
Nick stares at him, mouth agape. “What makes you think I’m not into women?” he demands.
The smirk is back. “Stokes, aside from having The Nose, I also have a fantastic gaydar. You’d be surprised. By the way, the hair on your vic is consistent with those on a big horned sheep.” He hands Nick the analysis and smiles. “Have a nice day.”
v.
Nick’s a little pissed when he finds out that Brass is driving Greg home from the hospital after the beating, if only because Greg is his… Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? Fuck buddy? Paramour? Whatever.
He slams on the brakes and parks his truck, taking the steps two at a time until he reaches Greg’s door. He bangs on it insistently. “Open up, Greg! It’s Nick. I need to talk to you!”
Greg opens the door slowly, revealing a scared-looking, black and blue face. “Nick. Hi.”
Nick doesn’t waste any time because time is so precious and he grabs Greg by the front of his shirt and pulls him into kiss. When he breaks away, he whispers, “I love you.”
Blinking a little, Greg steps back. “Um, would you like to come inside?”
Nick stares at him, dumbfounded. “Greg, what the hell is this?”
“My apartment?”
“Don’t be a smartass. I… Am I just a fling to you?” Nick tries to fight off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that says, I never should have come here, I just ruined this, oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Greg cocks his head. “No. No, Nicky, you’re not just a fling.” Greg laughs. “Wow. This is… This is complicated. Um. See, I thought that I was the fling and you were just using me for sex after, er, you know. But you kept it going, so I thought you were into guys but never wanted a serious relationship.”
Still dumbfounded, Nick says, “You were the one who said ‘no love’.”
“Yeah, to protect myself,” Greg fires back hotly. “Because I was sure that you’d end it and go off with, I dunno, Cath or Sofia and leave me in the dust. The ‘no love’ rule was for me, mostly, because I didn’t want to get hurt.” Greg looks at him with large, beautiful eyes. “I love you, Nicky, and I didn’t –don’t– want to lose you.”
Pressing his lips together, Nick begins, “So… So, all this time I’ve been wanting to tell you that if you told me it’d be a great idea if I stole a car, set it on fire and drove it off a cliff and I would say, ‘standard or automatic?’ I could’ve told you and you wouldn’t have been freaked out?”
Greg chuckles. “Seriously, Nick, I would be more freaked if you didn’t love me.” He nods at the inside of his apartment. “Wanna come in?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Nick makes a mental note to thank Hodges later.
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no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 02:26 am (UTC)Nice fic though.
Chelle
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 02:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 03:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:Dumb
Date: 2008-07-30 05:21 am (UTC)Nice one.
Meisaal
Re: Dumb
From:no subject
Date: 2008-07-30 08:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-08-02 03:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
From: