fic: greg hojem sanders is an elitist
Title: Gregory Hojem Sanders is an Elitist
Author: rose/stylistixs
Fandom: CSI: Nick/Greg
Characters: Nick Stokes, Greg Sanders
Prompt: --
Word Count: 708
Genre: Fluff.
Summary: We all know that Greg loves his Blue Hawaiian.
Rating: Soft R. For language and ~innuendo~.
Disclaimer: Don’t own, don’t sue. All a matter of fiction.
Author's Note: Inspired slightly by the Blood Brothers song "This Adultery is Ripe". Listening to Jordan screaming "Baby I'd come over but your coffee tastes like the clap" picked my interest just a little.




Nick never understood it. Why, after so many months of dating and sex, Greg refused to spend the night over at his place. He had in the early days of the relationship, alternating between beds, Greg often burrowing deep beneath the covers for that extra hour of sleep staying over at Nick’s place would grant him, since Greg’s condo was further away from work, and he’d often get caught in traffic.

Nick wanted to know, though. Understand the gradual dismissal of his apartment as a good place for sex. Nick wondered maybe if it was the bed; he liked his Queen size mattress firm, while Greg’s was a King size, soft and bouncy.

He thought maybe it was due to the noisy neighbors, often leaving their stereos on at full blast, despite a two and a half foot wall between the rooms. Then again, Greg often left his stereo on while he slept, and it never bothered him.

It did bother Nick though, as Greg once again pulled into the parking space Nick had come to know real well. He groaned lightly; whether it was from the confusion or from the palm pressed flat against his crotch, Nick wasn’t really sure. Nor was he levelheaded enough to bring it up correctly.

“Why...Why are we here?” Which is why Nick brought it up incorrectly. Greg smiled in return, palm pressing harder into the black slacks.

“I think you know why you’re here Nicky.” Greg’s fingertips pushed the hem of the buttoned down shirt up, moving against defined abs.

Nick took in a shaky breath and closed his eyes and the fingers ghosted over sensitive and taut muscles. “I mean, why always your place.” Greg’s left hand trailed up Nick’s shirt simultaneously, and Nick’s sentence faltered, ending on a higher pitch.

Greg just rolled his eyes and opened his side door, motioning for Nick to do the same. “Quit your whining, or you ain’t getting jack tonight.”

Nick knew that Greg would stay true to his threats; the rest of the night, Nick’s only words were those of incoherency as Greg fucked him on the kitchen counter, his belt landing somewhere on top of the fridge.

He’d get it tomorrow, he thought sleepily, as Greg purred into his chest in bed. Tomorrow, he’d also get an answer to his question.

**

Nick awoke to an empty bed, but the strong smell of Blue Hawaiian filtered through the semi-open door. He grabbed a pair of boxers lying on the floor, Greg’s obviously, since he’d lost his in the living room some hours earlier. Nick padded into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Greg’s back and resting his head on the man’s shoulder.

“And a good morning to you,” Greg chuckled as Nick’s stubble scratched along his back. Nick just grunted a response and kissed the back of his neck. “Breakfast?” Greg asked, attempting to turn around in Nick’s hold.

Nick wasn’t having any of that. “Not until you answer my question.” It came out scratchy, and not as threatening as he’d hoped for. Greg just raised an eyebrow.

“What question?” Greg looked absolutely puzzled.

“Last night, in the car, before you decided to manhandle me,” Greg snorted, “I asked you why we always come over to your place to do the deed if one if us is staying the night.”

Greg laughed, curling his arms around Nick’s neck and shoulders as he turned to face him. “No better time to say it then?”

Nick was confused. “Say what”?

Greg laughed again, eyes sparkling, mouth stretched wide in a smile. “You’re absolutely adorable when you’d make us breakfast at your place, but, dude.” Greg paused, a deep laughing escaping his lips. Nick frowned.

“But, dude, what?” He growled.

Greg continued laughing, his mouth pressed against the tan neck. “Your coffee tastes like the clap.”

Nick sputtered, because really, what could one respond to that with?

Nothing.

After a several minutes of laughter from Greg, due to Nick’s expression of shock, he finally gave him a break. “But if you promise to stock Blue Hawaiian, we’ll go back to alternating love nests.” He kissed Nick’s cheek.

Nick nodded, still too stunned to talk. “The clap?”

Greg just laughed again. “Yeah dude, the clap.”