Title: Dream A Little Dream Of Me
By: glo-starz
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC17
Summary: Greg has an embarrasing accident in the front seat of Nick's Denali.

Nick’s finger gently circled Greg’s hole, tapping at the wrinkled pucker, waiting for it to relax. Greg shivered and arched his back, pushing his fevered body onto Nick’s finger, making it clear he wanted Nick to continue. The cool gel sparked off a sensory overload as it contrasted to his heated body and he moaned softly, his blood racing round his veins and his head buzzing with the rush of chemicals that had been released when he and Nick began kissing.

Nick slowly pushed the first finger into Greg, who felt himself tense for a second as the digit began to penetrate the tight ring of muscle, relaxing once more as the whole finger was buried inside him. Greg began to wriggle his hips gently, impatient for Nick to do more. Nick slowly began to twist the finger, first left, then right. After a couple of seconds he began to thrust the finger as he turned it. Greg felt himself begin to make small noises, whimpers and moans, as Nick continued his delicious task below his waist.

When the finger was moving easily Nick took it out completely before returning it to its resting place along with a second finger. He continued to thrust and twist, this time pushing further into Greg’s hot, tight ass. Greg knew where the finger was and suddenly it struck a small nub which made Greg arch his back again and clamp down on the intruding digit, a wild cry tearing from his throat. That had to be his prostate. To test his theory Nick stroked it again and was rewarded with another cry and Greg’s entire body tensing up below him.

Nick added a third finger now, desperate to be inside Greg. The feel of his body writhing beneath him, his hard-on digging into his hip, the way he was pushing onto his fingers and thrusting up into him, desperate for some friction. It was driving him to distraction. He began to scissor his fingers, carefully stretching Greg open, remembering what Greg had whispered in his ear only moments before whilst trying to drive him insane with his tongue in places Greg’s tongue had never been before.

“You can’t just take me, Nicky. I’ve never had anyone as big as you before. You need to prep me or you’ll damage me. And then you’ll have to wait ages for a re-run.”

Greg sat up and carefully pulled Nick’s fingers from his ass, a satisfied smile on his red face, his breath panting from him, his gorgeous lips moist and open. He reached under the pillow for the condom that he had hidden there when they had first stumbled into the bedroom with their bodies pressed together and their lips and tongues entwined. He pulled the condom out and carefully rolled it down Nick’s erection, stopping to let his finger dive into the slit first. When the condom was exactly where it should be Greg sucked the finger with Nick’s drop of precum into his mouth and licked it, letting Nick watch his tongue play around.

Nick gulped and pushed Greg back onto the bed so his head rested on the pillows. He pulled Greg’s legs a little wider and got into a press up position on top of him before carefully lowering himself down onto Greg’s hot flesh. Once there he dived in for another kiss, Greg opening his mouth eagerly and sucking his tongue in, letting it massage his and explore the crevices of his mouth. Greg returned the favour, his tongue snaking around and wrapping itself around Nick’s.

Nick’s hands left their perch beside Greg’s head and slowly stroked down his sides, tracing ribs and holding on to his hip bones, then he carefully flipped Greg over so Greg was now lying on him. Greg sat himself up, his hands resting on Nick’s chest and Nick’s hard-on buried in the crack of his ass. Greg smiled, wriggling his hips, looking out from under his lashes, his eyes dark and mischievous.

Nick reached out his fingers and pinched Greg’s nipples one at a time, relishing the way Greg bit his lip and thrust forward in ecstasy. Greg threw his head back and let the word, ‘Yes!’ escape his lips as a soft hiss. Nick’s touch was making him tremble and his hole was pulsing with the desperate need to be filled. He carefully used Nick’s chest to push himself up and then lowered himself onto Nick’s rather large erection.

Greg gasped with pleasure as he felt Nick’s large cock fill his ass and leant back on Nick’s raised knees, his hands balanced on them so he could use them as leverage. He began to slowly raise and lower himself, letting his tight ass grip Nick’s cock for all it was worth. He moaned Nick’s name, leaning back further to change the angle so Nick’s cock brushed his prostate with every thrust. Nick grabbed Greg’s ass, a hand on each cheek, and guided him.

Greg could feel himself getting close already. For someone who had never done this before, Nick was talented. Very talented. He knew just how to move his hips, just how to angle his cock to make Greg feel like he was going to explode. But Greg still needed more, so he reached his hand down and began to stroke his cock. He gripped it tight, moving his hand hard and fast, letting his thumb rub the tip on each upstroke.

“Greg.”

Greg began to pump faster, letting Nick’s name and moans of ’Yes!’ escape his mouth, the pleasure mounting, his body tensing, his spine tingling from top to bottom.

“Greg!”

He moaned, feeling his balls begin to tighten, the tip of his cock so sensitive now that he realised all he needed was a couple more strokes and he would be there. The feel of his hand combined with the feel of that delicious cock buried in his ass was just too much.

“GREG!”

The shout of pleasure from Nick was all Greg needed and he could feel cum pulsing from him, his whole body thrown into waves of spasms as his orgasm sweeps through him, screaming with each shudder of his cock. He felt himself shaking, a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Jesus Greg, are you ok?”

And suddenly he was awake, curled up on the front seat of Nick’s Denali, his head against the window. He turned around to look at Nick and realised that he could feel a wet patch in his boxers. A warm, sticky wet patch.

“Shit,” he mumbled, hoping Nick didn’t notice, or hear, what was going on.

“You ok, Greg? Sounded like you were having a nightmare. You called me for help. Is everything ok?”

Greg looked into the wing mirror. His face was flushed and his breathing was unsteady. Thank God he had been facing the window so Nick couldn’t see what had happened below his waist.

“Yeah. Bad dream. That was it . . .”

He took a few deep breaths and wriggled uncomfortably, the damp patch beginning to annoy him.

“Think that decapitation last week got to me more than I thought.”

“Ok, man. Go in and get yourself some coffee. Looks like you could do with it. I’ll log the evidence and get it to trace. Just have a mug waiting for me. Ok?”

“Sure,” Greg replied before jumping out of the Denali and heading for the toilet.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Greg ran into a stall and unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down to his ankles and inspecting the damage.

“Fuck,” he said, realising that he would have to take his boxers off, the wet patch was too large and already starting to dry into a sticky mess.

“A wet dream. A wet dream! What adult still has those?”

His face went red as he remembered what he had dreamt and who had been there when he dreamt it. And to top it all, where he had dreamt it.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. All I need is for Nicky to find out.”

He picked up some tissue and cleaned up as best he could before removing his pants and boxers. Once his boxers had been safely balled up he put his pants back on and then washed his hands. He stuffed the boxers into his pocket, running to the locker room without being stopped. The only thing more embarrassing than having a wet dream as a fully grown adult was someone else discovering you were trying to hide the end product.

He had just managed to make it to the locker room and shove the boxers into his backpack when Nick came in.

“Hey, got that coffee on yet?”

“No, I was looking for some Advil. Got a headache on the way and it feels like it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

At least that was the truth. The thought of what he had just happened and the strain of keeping himself awake after his orgasm was giving him a headache. He was lying about the Advil though. He knew he’d used the last of it two weeks ago two shifts into a triple. He made a show of rummaging around in the bag, looking for it while at the same time burying his boxers nearer to the bottom. Then he stood up and sighed.

“Nope. Must have used it all.”

“Oh, hang on G, I have some in my locker.”

Nick walked past him, undid his locker and passed the box to Greg.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem. Keep those if you like.”

He put his hand on Greg’s shoulder and squeezed it. Greg shuddered slightly, remembering those hands on him in his dream.

“I have another pack in here.”

Nick smiled and walked past him to the break room. Greg quickly took two tablets from the packet, throwing the rest into his backpack before shoving it back into the locker and following Nick.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As soon as he got into the break room Greg swallowed the tablets with some water and put on a pot of his Blue Hawaiian, listening to the others around the table play their version of truth or dare as he did.

“No, I haven’t injured myself at a crime scene in a long time,” Catherine said.

“What about when you got your heel stuck in that hotel elevator and tripped?” Warrick asked, getting a smug snicker from Sara for his efforts.

“That doesn’t count,” she countered. “The shoe was injured, not me!”

“Ok,” said Sara, “My turn.” She thought for a second, leaning back in her chair and passing her mug to Greg. “What’s the funniest thing you’ve ever done at a crime scene?”

“Aliens,” Warrick and Nick replied at once.

“Aliens?” Catherine asked.

“Yep, aliens.” And Nick dissolved into fits of giggles.

Greg began to distribute the cups as Nick and Warrick told the story of placing twenty inflatable, silver aliens all over the scene of a car crash and what had happened when Brass had found out it was them. He put the cream and sugar in the middle of the table before passing Nick his mug.

“Yeah, he wasn’t impressed with . . . OW!” Nick screamed as the mug made contact with his right index finger.

“Nicky? What wrong?” Greg asked, his hand reaching out for Nick’s shoulder.

“Damn paper cut,” he muttered shaking his finger.

“Paper cut? You pussy!” Warrick laughed.

“Hey man, go easy on me. It stings and it isn’t healing well.”

Greg thought about Nick’s words, the dream, how he felt whenever he looked at Nick, what he did on his own when he thought about Nick...and an idea formed in his head.

“Do you know what the best thing for healing a cut is, Nicky?”

”No, G. What?”

“Saliva.”

Greg carefully took Nick’s hand in his, folding down all but the index finger. Then he slowly sucked the index finger into his mouth, hollowing his cheeks as he did. He let his tongue play around the tip of the finger, watching the surprised look on Nick’s face as he did. When he had teased Nick enough he let the finger fall slowly from his mouth, his tongue flicking over the tip just as it fell from between his soft, pink lips.

“See? All better,” Greg purred out. “And now if you will excuse me boys and girls, I’m off to Trace to chase up our results.” And Greg walked from the room, swinging his hips as he did.

Nick sat in his chair, rooted to the spot, not quite believing what had happened. But he did believe that when he got home tonight he certainly had some brand new, and highly transferable, masturbation fantasies.

If Greg’s tongue was that good on his finger? Mmmmm. Tonight was going to be good.

Everyone watched in silence as Greg swayed out of the room, grinning like a Cheshire cat. That ought to have given Nick something to think about and no mistake, he thought to himself. As he walked back to his lab he could feel the empty space in his mouth where Nick’s finger had been seconds ago, taste Nick on his tongue, feel his insides tingling and a heavy warmth spreading throughout his body. Man, he was looking forward to getting home to his toys . . .

Nick, however, was rooted to the spot, eyes glued to his finger, which was still in the air, Greg’s saliva slowly drying on it. He could feel a stirring below his waist that was not entirely unpleasant and his cheeks flushing. Neither of which were really happening in a good place if he thought about it. Alone in bed, like he would be tonight, fine. But in the middle of the break room . . .

“What the hell was that?” Sara said, eyeing Nick suspiciously. Warrick turned to her and shrugged his shoulders, one eyebrow raised in surprise at the scene that had just played out in front of him.

“Yeah, Stokes. Care to explain?” he said.

“I . . . uh . . . well . . . it’s...” Then he gave up. “I really have no idea.” But I kinda hope I do, he thought to himself. “It’s Sanders. Who can say? He did have a nightmare of some sort in the Denali on the way back here, but how we got from decapitations to that? Your guess is as good as mine.” He tried to smile and shuffled over to the table before the growing erection in his jeans became too noticeable.

Catherine gazed at him, a puzzled look on her face, then her eyes widened and her mouth popped open. Nick found he couldn’t quite meet her eyes. She began to giggle and Nick had the distinct impression that she knew somehow and was thoroughly enjoying the secret.

“Eh . . .” he began, trying to brave a quick gaze her way.

“Oh, Nicky, don’t be such a prude. It’s funny,” she said. Her eyes seemed to add; and it’s not like you haven’t been dreaming about it since forever.

“Of course,” Hodges said, a snort escaping his nose as he leant against the counter stirring his coffee. “Having a very gay Greg Sanders sucking your finger in the middle of the break room is the most hilarious thing that’s ever happened around here.” He shook his head. “You are a bunch of infants.”

”Oh, Hodges, just ‘cos my mom told me you’re hung like one . . .” Archie sniggered and Hodges stomped out of the room

Once he was sitting down, Nick let himself slump back into the chair. This was so not fair. He adored Greg and here was some cruel twist of fate showing him just what he could have if Greg was into him like he was into Greg. That tongue, circling his finger and playing with his fingertip. . . Nick felt the tip of his cock nudge his zipper and begin to tingle at the thought.

“Wait a minute . . .” Sara’s brain suddenly began working again at about the same time Nick registered the words that Hodges had said. “Greg’s gay?” she screamed. Archie blushed. “I mean, I always suspected, but really? Seriously? He actually is? And how the hell do you know that when no one else did?” She was incredulous.

“Um . . . I . . . I . . . I . . . um,” Archie stuttered out, his blush deepening.

“Archie, you sly dog!” Bobby laughed, slapping him on the back. “I always wondered what he’d be like as a lover. So, spill. Is he as energetic in bed as he is in the lab?”

Nick’s ears pricked up at the turn in conversation and he turned to face Archie, a strange possessiveness bordering on jealousy making him want to get up and scream at Archie for having dared touch his Greg.

“Archie?” Catherine cocked her head to one side and blinked, seeing Nick’s reaction to what Bobby had just said. “Greg’s gay? And you’ve slept with him?”

“Yes. Well. Actually.” Archie swallowed and let out a sigh. “We kind of . . . sort of . . . dated . . . for a few months when he first got here from San Francisco. He was pretty different then. Younger in a way.”

“But?” Bobby carried on.

“Not so young in others.” And a sly smile crossed his lips.

Bobby, Warrick, Catherine and Sara burst out laughing as Archie’s face went redder and redder. Nick remained silent, torn between arousal and anger at what Archie had done.

“So come on Arch,” Warrick wheedled. “What’s he like?” Then he shook his head. “Hang on, why am I askin’? I really don’t wanna know about any of this.” He stood up and put his coffee cup in the sink. “I’m gonna be havin’ nightmares for weeks as it is.” He patted Nick on the shoulder. “Watch out for Sanders Nick, I think he’s hittin’ on you.” Then he waved and walked from the room, laughing heartily.

Catherine and Sara returned their gazes to Archie.

“So?” Sara said.

“So, what?” he replied.

“You know exactly what, young man. Spill.” Catherine folded her arms and leant back in her seat, waiting.

Archie took another deep breath, rubbed his face with one hand and put his mug down.

“We got together about three weeks after he arrived. We hit it off straight away and he kind of asked me where a good gay club was, and I told him Vintage. He asked me where it was and I offered to take him as he didn’t know his way around yet. Anyway, about the third time we went there we were dancing together and we were drunk and we sort of . . . kissed.”

“Is he a good kisser?” Sara asked.

“Brilliant,” said Archie, his eyes misting over and getting lost in a reverie. “Amazing. Soft to start with then urgent and almost aggressive. Very talented tongue too. And you know what his hands are like in the lab? You know, impossible to keep still?” Everyone nodded. “Just like that in bed, too.”

Once again everyone was in fits of laughter, but Nick was thoroughly aroused and sitting on his hands to stop them reaching for his cock.

“I bet he’s a top.” Bobby smirked.

“Oh no.” Archie blushed once more. “A very talented bottom. Would have made a great cowboy, if you get my drift.”

Nick suddenly had a mental image on him on his back and Greg riding him with just his cowboy hat on. He bit his lip to stifle a moan. Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he wants you, Stokes, he thought, in an attempt to get his unruly body back under control.

“Anyway. The sex was great and we got on so well. But it just didn’t feel right. We both just felt it wasn’t going anywhere. And we make better friends than boyfriends to be honest.”

Everyone shrugged their shoulders.

“Besides, there’s someone else he’s into at the moment. And I think this guy is ‘the one’ for him. He’s completely head over heels.”

But before anyone could get out of Archie the name of the mystery man, Grissom put his head around the door.

“No one got anything to do? I can find you some extra if you need it.”

“Just going to check out the security camera footage . . .” And Archie scuttled off.

“Got a couple of test fires to log . . .” And Bobby ran out after him.

“Come on Sara, we better finish the processing the crime scene photographs.” And Catherine and Sara walked out, Catherine winking at Nick as she walked past.

“Nick?” Grissom asked.

“Two more mouthfuls of coffee and I’m gone, Griss.” If this God damn erection has gone by then . . . he added in his head.

Greg threw himself straight onto his bed and began to wrestle himself out of his work clothes. His jeans flew one way, his shirt another. His Converse were thrown against the door, bouncing wherever they wished and his boxers were thrown into the air, where they hung over a blade of the ceiling fan.

He wriggled about on the cool cotton sheets, his hands flitting gently over every inch of his body, fingertips brushing over nipples and grazing creamy, soft thighs. His cock was already fully erect and standing proud, jutting up towards the ceiling from the resting ground in his pubes. His balls were an angry red and felt full and heavy. God, he didn’t think he’d ever needed to jerk off as much as he did right now.

He moaned and arched his back, letting one hand trail down his chest, pinching a nipple as it went past, and wrap around his cock. He gave it a squeeze and a couple of slow, languid strokes.

“Mmmmmmmm,” he moaned as he gently worked himself, knowing just his hand was not enough after the morning’s little escapade.

As he continued to gently stroke his aching cock, he reached into his bedside drawer and pulled out ‘Little Nicky’ and a tube of lube, laying both beside himself. He held his cock near the tip, his thumb stroking the underside ridge and eliciting a tortured hiss from his moist lips. His toes wriggled and his legs flexed, tendrils of pleasure unfolding down his body.

He let go of his throbbing cock, letting his finger gently tease the slit and gather the first glistening drops of precum and transfer them to his mouth where he greedily sucked on his own finger, remembering the taste of Nick’s finger just a few hours earlier.

One hand picked up the ice blue vibrator and the other reached for the tube of lube. He drew his knees up and placed the vibrator on the bed between them, then he squeezed the first few drops of lube onto his waiting finger. He leant back and wriggled his ass into the prefect position for penetration then let his lube coated finger reach for his eager hole.

As the lube coated finger brushed his pucker, he thrust against himself and released a small whimper. He let the finger circle its precious target a couple more times before gently pushing it into where it was needed most. He let out a low moan as it breached the muscle and began to thrust it gently.

He closed his eyes and let his fantasy take over. In his mind, Nick had thrown him onto the bed, already naked and hard. He had pushed Greg’s knees up and now had thrust his finger into him. Nick was desperate after a night of dancing, of watching Greg move for him. In his head, Nick began to thrust the finger faster, curling it so it reached Greg’s prostate.

“Oh, Nicky!” he yelled, as that talented finger brushed his sweet spot.

Greg opened his eyes, took his finger out and poured more lube onto it. As it went back to his ass, it wasn’t one finger but two that pushed inside of him. Now, as his fingers were moving forward and back his hips were rocking too. He scissored his fingers, gently stretching himself out so the vibrator could fit easily inside him. As the fingers rubbed inside his channel, he could feel a ball of liquid fire come to rest just below his stomach and he knew that when he eventually climaxed, it would explode throughout his entire being.

“Oh fuck,” he panted out. “Like that. Harder, faster.”

He pushed his fingers in and out of his hole, fucking himself like he wanted Nick to fuck him. He closed his eyes once more as he slipped a third finger in, already lubed enough for all three digits so it slipped in easily. He began to wriggle and scissor all three fingers, brushing his prostate and rubbing the ring of muscles as he worked himself. His cries were loud and his brain a lust-filled mush.

“God Nicky, fuck me now. Please!”

He withdrew his fingers and grasped blindly for the vibrator. Once he found it, he pushed it easily into his ass and made sure the tip was pushing against his prostate. Once he had done that, he turned it on. Full.

“Ooohhh!” he cried out, as the vibrations began to pulse through his sweat slicked body.

“Yesssssssssss,” he hissed, his body practically convulsing with the pleasure of the stimulation to his sweet spot.

As the vibrator worked hard from its spot buried in his ass, his cock began to throb with his pulse and leak furiously, just dying for attention. Greg picked up the lube once more and squeezed some into his palm before wrapping his hand around his rock hard cock.

“Oh, Nicky. Your . . . mouth is so warm . . . and wet.”

Greg was completely lost in the fantasy. In his mind, the tendrils of pleasure spiking every nerve ending were caused by Nick’s cock up his ass and his mouth around his cock. He began to thrust into his hand, the delicious friction of his palm and fingers dragging up and down his cock, forcing a series of moans and whimpers from his parted lips. His fingers teased the head and occasionally reached down to stroke his balls, making him shiver.

Greg’s other hand travelled back to the vibrator and began to thrust it in and out of his wanton ass. His body was growing heavy, warm, burning up as he fucked his fist and the vibrator fucked his ass. He could feel his head prickling, sweat forming on his forehead and his chest and face burning with the sex flush caused by boiling blood rushing around his body.

He knew his orgasm was building. His arms and legs were tense, his eyes were screwed shut and his back had left the blankets, leaving him with only his ass and shoulders for balance. His grip on the vibrator was so tight that his knuckles were white and his thrusts had become erratic.

“Feels . . . so fucking . . . good.”

Greg moaned out the words, feeling his balls pull up and his breathing hitching. He tried to put off the point of release, tried to even out his breathing, but he wanted it too much.

A flash of lightning went off behind his eyes and he felt himself explode, the ball of molten fire flowing through every fibre of his being, felt his own body go rigid then flop to the bed numerous times as he coated his chest with hot ribbons of his own cum. He balls pulsed, his tip so sensitive as he stroked his thumb over it repeatedly, drawing out the last tremors of orgasm. His asshole throbbed and it felt like creatures made of pins were running up and down his back.

As his breathing began to return to normal, Greg withdrew the vibrator, turning it off and throwing that and the lube to the empty side of the bed. Then he turned onto his side and smiled, stretching, catlike, before curling up and pulling the covers over himself.

“I bet you could keep me up all night,” he said, his thoughts staying with Nick as he fell asleep. The sleep that only the sexually satisfied could really know.

Nick drove home feeling very confused and unsettled. He’d finally let himself come to terms with the fact that he had wanted Greg for a long time, and now? Greg was actually gay! But that didn’t really mean he actually had a chance . . . did Greg even like him the way he liked Greg? Would he have sucked his finger that way if he didn’t? And who was this guy who was ‘the one’ as far as Archie was concerned? Did he know him? And Greg and Archie? He’d never seen that one coming. It was all so unfair. And now, he realised, I sound like a five year old. He shook his head and made a right.

He pulled up in his driveway, still thinking about the events in the break room earlier that day. The way Greg’s mouth had felt around his finger, the things his tongue had done to it. It was like nothing he had ever experienced. Imagine if it had been his dick! Nick killed the engine and sighed. He walked to his door, slowly unlocking it before strolling in and throwing his work bag down on the sofa. He strolled through to the bathroom, turned on the shower then returned to the living room. Here, he put the clothes he was wearing and the clothes from his work bag into the washer before padding back to the bathroom bullock naked. He scratched his balls absentmindedly while he checked the water temperature, then climbed under the warm spray.

The spray pounded down on his shoulders, relieving all the tension that had built up during the day. Nick rubbed his neck, feeling the muscles slowly unknotting. As his hands worked on the kinks, his mind drifted and the fingers on his neck and shoulders became Greg’s. He felt himself moan and turned around so his chest now had water flowing over it. His nipples began to tingle as pinpricks of water splashed onto them, and he imagined each tiny shiver this created was caused by Greg’s tongue flicking out and teasing the peaking flesh. As the warm water flowed from his chest, down to his waist and over his cock, he began to feel it thicken and lengthen, becoming heavy between his legs.

Nick placed a slick palm on his torso and then trailed his fingertips to his heavy cock. He gently wrapped a hand around it and then started to stroke. Up with an in breath and down with an out breath. He could already feel the tension beginning to pool at the base of his spine. His cock was now fully erect and leaking, the water washing over his tip making the slow strokes unbearable. He gripped tighter and leaned forward, his head directly under the spray. His left hand reached forward and braced against the wall as he began to stroke faster.

“Oh, Greg . . . your hands . . . feel good.”

A new sensation swept through his body as he stroked, a tingling pleasure that made his asshole pulse. He thought about what Archie had said, about Greg taking, rather than giving, and in his head his hand was suddenly Greg’s ass, clamped tight around him as he pumped into it. He began to rock his hips, his grip almost painfully tight as he imagined Greg bent over in front of him, bracing himself on the edge of the tub.

“So . . . tight . . . Greg.”

Part of him, his Texas brain, was shocked that he was allowing himself to think this way; that he was enjoying thinking this way, that thinking this way could make him feel like this. But the fantasy was just so good. He continued to stroke, his hand pausing to allow a finger to fondle the slit. A moan of pleasure escaped his lips as he imagined it was Greg’s tongue. His mind was filled with lust; shivers were running up and down his back. What he needed now, right now, was an orgasm. A good one.

He wrapped his hand back around his cock and began to pump in earnest. Images of Greg on his knees sucking him, under him writhing in pleasure, bent over the hood of his truck, all flashed through his mind and he felt lightning crackling over his back and white- hot heat in his balls. He could hear himself panting, his legs shaking as the muscles exerted themselves to keep him on his feet.

“Ohhh . . . God, Greg . . . wanna cum . . . inside you.”

Nick let the fantasy take over again, fucking his hand for all it was worth. He was drawn tight, every fibre pulled as tight as it could go.

“So . . . close . . . gonna . . . cum.”

He imagined the sounds Greg would make as he came. Nick’s hand wrapped around him as he pumped his cock, Nick’s cock buried in his ass as he made love to him. The image and the noise that went through his mind were enough. His orgasm hit him like a freight train, head on and hard. With each pulse of cum, his body slammed forward in involuntary spasms and his legs could no longer hold him up. He was suddenly on his knees in the bath, his hand gently squeezing his cock to tease out the last delicious tremors.

“Fuck. If it’s this good in my head . . .”

Nick shook his head and laughed before washing himself and climbing from the bath, a satisfied smile on his face.

I did a really stupid thing yesterday was Greg’s first thought as he woke up that morning.

“Shit. Did I really suck his finger in front of the whole team?” he asked no one in particular. “Jesus, I am so losing it.”

He dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen, putting on a pot of Blue Hawaiian. As he did, he felt his eyes begin to sting.

“Oh, God, not today. Please not today.” He took slow, calming breaths and swallowed a couple of times, reining in the urge to cry. “Tonight, fair enough, but not now.”

When he was completely calm again he finished his coffee before putting on a Manson album and pacing round the living room a few times, trying to kid himself that it wasn’t going to happen.

“I am not going to break down today,” he repeated to himself again and again, already knowing it was inevitable.

After another spell of self delusion he took a bath and dressed for work, snagging an apple for breakfast as he ran out of the door. As he drove his battered Jetta to the building, he called Abby, needing someone to talk him out of the inevitable end to today. The second she picked up her cell, he spoke.

“Abby, it’s happening again. It nearly happened already. I don’t know how to stop it. I’m nearly at work and I know . . . I just know . . .” He stopped, feeling the tears welling up again.

“Ok hun, deep breaths, deep breaths.” She listened as he inhaled and exhaled heavily. “Ok, we know by now there’s nothing going to stop it. So . . .” She stopped to think. “Is there somewhere you can go?”

“What do you mean?”

“A place, no one else goes.”

“I don’t want to hide, Abby, I don’t want it to happen at all.”

“Honey, you have to face it. Today you are going to break down and nothing you do is going to stop it happening. You know this. I know this. It happens every few months and you just have to let it happen. Ok?”

Greg sighed heavily and bit his lip, the urge to cry increasing with every mile closer to work he got.

“Ok. So what was this plan?”

“Fight it for as long as you can.”

“Ok.”

“But when it happens, and you know it will, find somewhere you won’t be found. Is there anywhere you can think of?”

Greg thought for a second then remembered the place he had hidden the last time this had happened at work.

“Yeah.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. “There is. Thanks, Abby.”

“No problem, sweet cheeks.” She giggled into the phone. “So, what was the final straw this time?”

“Nicky.”

“Nicky?” Abby repeated.

“Yes, Nicky. I might have . . . sucked his finger . . . in front of the whole team.”

On the other end of the phone, he could hear her roar with laughter.

“Oh Greg, that is priceless. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. My dick was kinda in control.”

Abby was, once again, reduced to helpless laughter.

“You really are a nightmare. Anyway, have to go. Magee wants some help with something. You gonna be ok?”

“Yeah, I’ll cope. Thanks, Abs.”

“No problem. Call me tonight, ok?”

“Ok. Laters.”

“Laters.”

Greg hung up his cell and threw it into the passenger seat.

“Shit,” was the last thing he said before arriving at work.

Instead of going for a coffee, Greg went straight to the lab, not noticing how hot it was, threw on a CD and immersed himself in his work. Every now and again he would begin to feel his eyes sting and he would bite his lip, close the offending body parts and breathe deeply until the urge had subsided. It worked for nearly four hours. However, hour five proved to be his breaking point.

When processing a sample he dropped the phial and the contents spilt all over the floor. He slumped into his chair, knocking his head against his desk and saying,

“Head-desk-head-desk repeat.”

A giggle escaped his lips when he realised how stupid he was being. The giggle turned into hiccups, the hiccups turned into small sobs. Greg looked around him, terrified, knowing he couldn’t fight it any more. He felt the first hot tears begin to slide down his cheeks. He looked around, seeing no one anywhere near him, and ran from the lab. He ran through the entrance hall, ignoring the receptionist asking where he was going and hurtled into a small space surrounded by trees. Once he was sitting on the wall, he let the sobs come. He folded his arms and put them on his knees before resting his head on them.

He just needed to stay here until it was over. No one ever came out here. He was safe.

Only he wasn’t. The air-conditioning was down. Again. And he had just run into Nick’s shady spot.