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Category: CSI - Slashed > Greg/Nick
Characters: Greg Sanders, Nick Stokes
Rating: NC-17
Genres: Established Relationship, PWP - Plot, What Plot?
Warnings: Adult themes

Summary: Nick and Greg have an online conversation...this was written to fulfil the "Jacked In, Jacked Off" prompt at 30 Lemons.





"You are now logged in.

Nicky is online".


lab_rat: Hey. Where are you? Back at the hotel?

Nicky: Yeah.

lab_rat: Finished for the day?

Nicky: Yeah, except that Grissom's dragging me out for dinner with an old college buddy of his at eight.

lab_rat: Miss you.

Nicky: I know.

lab_rat: Got any idea how much trouble I had getting to sleep without you last night?

Nicky: You've gone to sleep without me before, G, we haven't always worked the same shift like we do now.

lab_rat: Not the same thing. You're in New York at a damn conference, you're not gonna climb into bed with me tonight when I'm asleep.

Nicky: That the only thing you miss?

lab_rat: You know it isn't.

Nicky: What else?

lab_rat: Don't make me go there, okay? You're gonna be home tomorrow, and I'd rather do it than talk about it.

Nicky: Rather do what, G?

"Nicky is sending you a file. Click to accept".

The photo is ever so slightly out of focus, but not anywhere near enough for Greg to mistake what he's looking at. The bland, nondescript wallpaper and furniture speak of the cheapest hotel the department could possibly find, and the covers have been shoved to the foot of the bed where Greg's lover sits propped against the headboard; his legs are parted, his dark pants unzipped and his hand is around his cock. He's hard, the kind of hard that happens when the two of them have spent what feels like hours teasing each other without letting themselves come, and this image renders Greg powerless to move as he is engulfed by a sudden wave of heat; after what seems an impossibly long time, he takes a deep breath and forces his hands to move over the keyboard again.


lab_rat: Jesus, Nicky.

Nicky: I put my digital camera on top of the TV and set the timer. Wanted you to see what being away from you does to me.

lab_rat: When?

Nicky: An hour ago. I sat through a talk this afternoon that went on forever, and I got so hard thinking about you that I told Grissom I had a headache - left him and his buddy having drinks in the bar and did this.

lab_rat: Nicky, don't, please.

Nicky: Don't what? Tell you how much I wish you were here so I could fuck you till you screamed? You know I came so hard just now from thinking about that? I sat in that room this afternoon listening to some guy from Ohio droning on about blood spatter, and al I could think of was how you feel when I'm inside you. You're so fucking tight it feels like I'll get stuck and be in you for ever, and you make these sounds like you're hurt, except I know you're not, are you?

lab_rat: God, I want you, Nicky.

Nicky: Show me.

lab_rat: What?

Nicky: Show me how much you want me. Are you hard?

lab_rat: Yes.

Nicky: Turn on your cam. Let me see.

"You have invited Nicky to view your webcam.

Nicky is watching."


lab_rat: See?

Nicky: Lean back a little. That's it. No, don't sit up again, don't say anything else, just stay where you are and let me talk. You know what I'm thinking about right now?

Nicky: When we're in bed and I wake up before you do and you're hard like you are right now - I reach over and put my hand around your cock, and you don't even open your eyes, G, you just push yourself towards me and let me touch you. Maybe once I'm back home I'll fuck you while you're asleep - just lie there and slick myself up and then pull you back onto me, I'd be inside you before you even woke up.

Nicky: It's you, you know that, right? You make me want to do these things, G, I was never like this with anybody else. Never got hard like this just from thinking about them, never wanted to lick them just so I knew what their skin tasted like - I thought about that this morning when I woke up, how I lick your throat right where the pulse beats and your skin tastes of that coffee you drink.

Nicky: You like me doing that to you, don't you? I wish I could do it now, wish I could just lick down your body till I got to your cock, because you taste so good I could have you in my mouth all day. All day, G, think about that - I'd suck you until you came so hard you passed out, then I'd wait till you opened your eyes and I'd start again.

Nicky: I'd have my fingers inside you too, I'd keep them there, just so I could hear the noise you always make - how many? Two? Three? I bet if we kept going all day you'd take my entire hand by the time I got done with you, I wonder what kind of noise you'd be making then?

Nicky: Damn, I wish you knew how beautiful you look sitting there like that - you're leaking already, it's not going to take much to finish you now, is it? Lick your fingers - no, don't shake your head like that, G, do it.

And Greg's whimpering under his breath even before he obeys the command, because he knows that what he's being asked to do will pull him closer to the edge - and he doesn't want this to finish, not ever, he wants his lover to keep saying these filthy dirty things to him, they've only been apart two days but it feels like two YEARS because he misses Nick so badly. He raises the encircling bracelet of his hand from the base to the head of his cock, swipes two fingers across the tip through the pre-come that's been building there ever since he leaned back in the chair and unfastened his jeans - and although he barely touches himself, the cry he muffles behind a bitten lower lip is one that would fire Nick's blood if only he could hear it.

He lifts his hand to his mouth, outlining it with the two slick fingertips before allowing them to slide between his lips; he curls his tongue around them, sucking greedily, and when a soft chime alerts him to a new message he ignores it. His free hand is shoved beneath his T shirt, thumb and forefinger seizing his left nipple and pinching hard enough to make his mouth come open with a soft, wet "pop" and allow his fingers to slip free. His right hand slides back down to his cock, so recently deprived of touch and now screaming for contact, and when it comes into contact with his encircling fingers again he arches up off the chair.

His head falls back, sweat running from his forehead into his hair even though the air conditioning is on full blast, his eyes glazed over and the pupils blown. He works himself harder now, almost roughly, and the only thing in his mind now is that Nick's watching him do this; he pictures his lover's face, the expression he's seen so many times before, a look that would be almost serious if it weren't for the fever red spot of need on each cheek and the hooded, dark eyes.

His breath hitches in his chest, his heart hammers, and although his head is full of

(want you Nicky want you touching me want you IN me)

the only thing escaping his lips is a breathy moan. He rises and falls to the rhythm of his own touch, lost in sensation, gritting his teeth and allowing his eyes to close; behind his closed eyes he suddenly sees Nick in the hotel room, so far away and still so hard from wanting him, and this image is enough to finish it. There's a split second where he thinks

(no not yet stop)

but he can't stop, not now, and he thrusts upwards and clenches his hand round his cock

(now)

while the world becomes white noise and white light behind his eyes, and he feels his heart stop for a split second while liquid warmth jets through his fingers to splash up on his belly and his T shirt.

He takes a breath, a huge gulp of air as though he has just surfaced from deep water, and he lets his eyes open slowly while the room shifts back into focus again. "Fuck," he whispers, his voice low and shaky, and he straightens up slowly in the chair. He is drained, his body weighted down by the force of his climax, and the act of peeling his T shirt over his head takes nearly all his strength; he wipes himself clean, discarding the crumpled shirt on the floor beside the chair, and once he is certain that his fingers will co-operate he starts typing again.


lab_rat: Couldn't stop. Sorry.

Nicky: Don't be sorry. When I get home tomorrow I want you to do that again - want to sit at the end of the bed and watch you.

lab_rat: Yes. Anything.

Nicky: Hold on - phone. Shit, G, I need to go to dinner. Don't want to.

lab_rat: Go. I'm fine.

Nicky: Tomorrow, G. Love you.

lab_rat: Love you too.

"You are now logged out."