Title: Flexible
By: quettaser
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairings: Nick/Greg
Summary: Done for flipflopadd1ct, who asked for crazy, risky public!sex. It's not quite that, but close enough. Greg's flexible, but not that flexible.

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Okay, so it wasn't my best idea, blowing him in the elevator. But he was wearing those damn jeans, those ones that hug him in every way possible, and like I had any power to resist them. I'd like to think of myself as strong-willed, but when it comes to Nick, sometimes I just lose a little control...okay, more than a little.

And, sure, maybe I could have restrained myself until we had gotten into the room, as opposed to tying up what I'm sure is a very busy elevator around eleven, but it had been days since I'd tasted him. Just look at him. Could you really blame me?

There's just something about his taste, and not just his cock, although that's quite heavenly; silky and hot and I just love feeling it anywhere, hands, mouth, ass, hell, just against my skin is good too...but back to taste. He always tastes like sweat and a little bit of soap, and something else, something dusty, musky, like there's Texas in his pores. And that gets me thinking of leather and cowboys hats and all the things we could be doing in a dark room somewhere with a bed, or not even a bed, any decent flat surface would be fine. I want as much of that taste as I can get.

And okay, I'm head over heels for him, even if he's a bit uptight about other people finding out about us. But I can live with that, although, sometimes my little exhibitionist streak is hard to control. Okay, really? I'd fuck him in the middle of the Strip at rush hour if I had half a chance. I just don't care what other people think about the person I love. I love him and care about him and we have damn hot sex and I don't feel any need to hide it from the world.

But he does, so I try. I'm flexible. And mostly, I do just fine, but it wasn't like I asked him if I could blow him in a very public elevator. I just kind of went for it, my hand opening his pants before he could say, "Greg?" in that adorably confused voice that means his brain is still trying to process what happened when I grabbed for the button of his jeans, let alone my mouth on his head. I can't help it, he makes me lose control.

But he seemed just fine with it after a little, although, Nick's not one to turn down a blowjob...actually, I don't know any guy who'd turn down a blowjob. But it did take him a while to stop protesting and worrying and just relax and let me go to it.

Mental note, to get Nick to do what I want, lick his balls. Works every damn time.

And I don't know what he was so worried about. I pressed the emergency stop button. No one was going to come in and catch us in our very compromising position... although now that I think about it, how many elevator surveillance tapes have I watched?

Oh. Fuck.

Well then. Someone just got their very own amateur porn tape.

But outside of some lonely security guard possibly whacking to some fellatio, who's gonna know?

Actually, I'm sure the little old couple who got on the elevator after we let it move again must have realized what was going on. My jeans had considerably tightened since I first got on, and Nick? Well, Nick looked like he had just gotten a blowjob. Which is to say, hot. Not to mention the entire car smelled like sex and I couldn't stop licking my lips. What can I say? I like his taste.

Had our room been on the twentieth floor instead of the tenth, I think we would have fucked in the elevator. Well, probably not. I don't think Nick would have gone for that, as I cannot not lick his balls while he fucks me. I'm not that flexible.



Fin!

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