TITLE Torture
AUTHOR hautecoffey
WEBSITE URL none
SUMMARY A typical night at work in our favourite Lab Rat's life...
RATING PG - 13, for a wee bit of language
PAIRING Greg/Nick pre-slash
DISCLAIMER We all know who owns the rights and characters, and it isn't me. No profit is being made here, and this is done, as always, just for the hell of it.
CHALLENGE #15 - Attempt to write a fanfic within five minutes. This story must start with, "The trouble with..."
Author's notes: It's unbeta'd and only spelling corrections made, no time to do anything else - my five minutes ran out!
Written from Greg's POV.
The trouble with being in love with one of your coworkers, is that you see him all day - or night - long. I, of course, had the incredible stupidity to fall for a man who has absolutely no concept of personal space. He comes in my lab, leaning over me, gotta see what I'm doing, throwing a "hiya buddy, how are you?" arm around my shoulders...he hovers, too. Hovers behind me when I'm working on some of his evidence. When he does, I can feel his breath on my neck. I get so hard, I wind up in the bathroom, the one all the way in the back behind the autopsy room, jacking myself off just so I can walk for the rest of shift.
It's torture.
Pure, fucking torture. Sometimes I think good ole Nicky does it on purpose. The rest of the time? I'm just grateful he does. I wonder what he'd do if I just laid him out on the Trace table one night and sucked him right down my throat.
Speak of the devil and the devil shall make a beeline to torment the hell out you. Walking in my door, well, Clark County's door, anyway, baggie in hand. Of course, you're at the top of my list, Nick, sure,
I'll have your analysis by the end of the night, Nick, hey, I'm fucking in love with you, Nick, think can I have those blue jeans when you peel them off later, Nick? You can throw in that second- skin sweater, too.
Not the grin. Oh, God, not the grin. I'd eat a couple of lifecycles worth of Grissom's bugs for one of those grins.
"Helllooooooo? Greg?"
Nick's waving a hand in front of me. Hi yourself, Nick.
"Well?" he's saying.
He raises his eyebrows, I realize I should probably be answering something right about now. I stare at him blankly, having no idea what he might have just said.
"Sure. You're on," I toss out, hoping it's the right answer.
"Great, I'll see you Saturday then!"
And then he's leaving. Opening the door.....
"Hey, Greggo!" He stops at the door. "Do you have any idea what you just agreed to?"
"Not a clue," I admit.
He laughs softly, a low sound deep in that incredible throat.
"Nick?"
He leaves, the door closes behind him. He glances back once.
He's still grinning.
END