Title: Chihuahuas, Nightmares, and The Importance of Hair
Author: amazonqueenkate
Pairing: Nick Stokes/Bobby Dawson
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Theme: #3: jolt!
Warnings: NC-17; nightmares not involving women; curious boyfriends; Monopoly metaphors; crack!fic
Disclaimer: If I owned it, the show'd be gayer.
Author's Notes: Complete and utter crack!fic, inspired by sarcasticsra and fed by hawkeyecat, who, no matter how much I love 'em, really are evil.

They were kissing.

Making out, actually, Nick realized as a tongue plunged into his mouth and hands roaming his bare skin. Actually, come to think of it, he was buck naked and lying on' A blanket? In grass?

Interesting.

Not that he was complaining, because a thumb brushed over one of his nipples and, really, it was hard to complain when the man with his tongue in your mouth took the time to send jolts of desire straight to your cock, do not pass go, do not collect two-hundred dollars. Though a Monopoly metaphor felt distinctly out of place while making out on a blanket in the grass.

Eh, so be it.

The other man - who was on the bottom, Nick realized belatedly - groaned deep in the back of his throat, rolling them over. And oh! He was naked too. Well, either that, or he happened to be wearing an erection on the outside of his pants. Nick raised a hand to investigate and confirmed that, yes, the other man was quite naked. Lovely. He wrapped his fingers around the cock and squeezed, hard. The deep rumble of pleasure in the back of whoever-it-was' throat was like a shudder of electricity through Nick's entire body, head to spine to dick and back again. He arched his hips, pressing his own stiffness against his squeezing hand and the stranger's (he had the oddest impression that this was a stranger, and that he was okay with it) groin, and broke the kiss to let out a shuddering breath.

Above him, the other man dipped his head, his hips gyrating slightly as he licked a trail down Nick's neck, and dammit, he found the spot below his ear, too. That was a sacred spot, and he arched his back when teeth scraped against it, hissing into nowhere. Sunlight sparked along the edges of his mostly-closed eyes as he twisted his hand on the other man's cock.

He must have expressed how good it felt somehow, because now a half-bite was definitely a sucking motion, and fuck it, if the man could suck his neck that well, he wanted that mouth on his dick rightthisveryminute. His unoccupied hand rose up and felt along the other man's back, skimming along smooth skin and slender features and then finding dark hair at the nape of his neck. Nick sighed and went to tangle his fingers in that hair just a little higher, and then paused.

His fingers didn't find hair.

Huh. Weird.

Suddenly, the lips on his neck disappeared and he could feel the other man lift himself up ever-so-slightly. "Enjoying yourself, Stokes?" he questioned breathlessly.

Stokes. No one called him Stokes except -

Oh shit.

Nick opened his eyes very, very slowly, surprised at the brightness of the sun above him. The face of his lover was silhouetted, nearly impossible to recognize, but the glinting of that white-gold sunlight off a shiny bald head was unmistakable. Especially considering that the other man suddenly bent back down, his nose nearly touching Nick's.

"You are enjoying yourself, right?" leered a very naked Conrad Ecklie.

Nick sat up straight in bed, gasping in a desperate, demanding breath. The artificial darkness of the room shocked him, a stark contrast to the bright sunlight of his dream. For a moment, he sat as still as his muscles would let him, taking in his surroundings, and when he finally could relax in some small way, he noticed two things.

First, he was safely in his bed, at his house, with all the familiar trappings of home.

Second, he had a raging hard-on the likes of which had never been seen.

Flopping back against the pillows, he forced himself to close his eyes. "Just a dream," he muttered to himself and to the darkness, gritting his teeth when the mental image of a naked and needing Ecklie danced across his eyelids. "Just a dream, nothin' to worry about'"

"Wha's a dream?" Nick mentally cursed as Bobby rolled over and scooted close to him, half-asleep. His hand groped the sheets and mattress for a moment before finding Nick, and suddenly there was an arm stretched across his stomach and dangerously close to his unwelcomed guest. He clenched his eyes further shut. "Ni'mare?"

"Kinda."

"Oh. Mmm. Sorry."

"'s okay."

Bobby made another faint, affirmative noise and Nick held his breath. Maybe he'd just fall back asleep and wouldn't notice his erection. Then, maybe he wouldn't have to explain it. And then, they could get on with their lives and Nick could successfully forget that he'd ever had a sex dream featuring -

Bobby shifted and, dammit, his arm bumped into Mr. Stiffy. Nick cracked an eye open, hoping that his bedfellow hadn't thought anything of it, but instead found Bobby staring at him with an amused look. "Nightmare?" he repeated, and Nick frowned. Sure, the Georgian couldn't function before work without two cups of coffee, but offer him a hard cock and he was up and at 'em. That just wasn't fair.

"Kinda." He turned his head to face Bobby and tried his best to muster a "if you ask me about this, I will have to tell you and thusly scar you for life" expression, much like the ones he employed when Bobby wanted to hear about decomp cases and brain bits.

The expression must have lost something in translation. "What, dream you were with a girl?" Oh, great. He really was amused. They'd never get back to sleep, now. "Two girls? A whole sorority of 'em?"

Nick was beginning to think that Bobby really wasn't that funny, and that his quirky little grin reminded him of a' Well, he couldn't think of an appropriately evil animal, unfortunately, but once he did, the comparison would be apt.

Bobby kept staring at him, and finally, he sighed. "Worse." And really, if you thought about it, it was worse. Nick appreciated the delicate features of the fairer sex, even if he didn't find them attractive. A sorority full of women attempting to seduce him would have been a vast improvement.

The arm around his waist was still pressing into his dick, which was completely aiding and abetting what was starting to feel like deep sexual deviance. "Greg Sanders?"

'did Bobby really know about that fantasy? "No," he answered quickly.

An eyebrow rose at his urgency, but then relaxed. "Grissom?"

He sighed and shut his eyes. "Bobby, just lemme sleep."

"Warrick?"

Okay, that earned at least one eye opening back up. "'you didn't ask me that, did you?"

"David."

He shuddered and shook his head. "That's it. Night, Bobby."

"Archie?"

"Closin' my eyes."

"Ronnie."

He made good on his promise to close his eyes, too, though he could feel Bobby still staring at his face, which really, was a disconcerting phenomenon at best. "Countin' sheep'"

"Ecklie?"

Shit. Nick's eyes immediately flew back open - oh, traitorous eyelids, how he loathed them - and he turned his face back toward Bobby's. For a moment, they just stared one another, silent, with Nick's stomach turning over and over itself and praying that Bobby did not get annoyed or jealous at this. Because really, pissing off your boyfriend was bad, but pissing off your boyfriend when he has the keys to a couple hundred guns?

That was suicidal.

Nick's stomach calmed slightly when a slight smile started to curve Bobby's lips, and then flipped again when Bobby started snickering. Bobby's snicker was not a particularly attractive one; it reminded Nick of a Chihuahua with a cold, honestly, and Nick hated Chihauhuas more than about ninety-five percent of dogs. Lucky for him, however, the ill rat-dog snickers were soon replaced with full-out belly laughs that shook the whole bed, and - were it not the middle of the afternoon - Nick would have suggested Bobby quiet down, lest they wake the neighbors.

But it was the middle of the afternoon, so instead, he sent Bobby an icy glance. "It's not funny," he stated.

"Yeah, it is," Bobby managed to choke out between laughs, his face contorting as he tried to calm himself and failed miserably. "You had a sex dream about Ecklie."

Just saying the name started him all over, and Nick frowned as he rolled over. "You had one about Greg."

"Greg ain't bald!" Oh, like that wasn't insult to injury. Bobby nudged him in the back. "C'mon. You gotta admit it's funny."

"It's not." Nick rolled back over and shot him a stony look; the other man sobered slightly, though he was still smirking, damn him. "Not like I tried to dream about him. It just happened."

Bobby smiled - a genuine one, thank God, and not another "I'm going to mock you for the rest of your natural life or until you dump me for the laughing, whichever comes first" one - and reached over to ghost a touch across his hipbone. "You gave me a helluva time when I dreamt about Greg."

"Man, you dreamt about you and Greg goin' at it in the DNA lab."

"And where were you and Ecklie doin' it?" Bobby countered evenly. Nick bit back a response, choosing instead to frown at him, and he grinned in victory. "That's what I thought."

Sighing, Nick shook his head. "Look, just forget it, okay?" he finally said, stopping Bobby's hand as it ran up his side. He gripped the fingers firmly and probably more affectionately than he should have, given the teasing. "It's gonna be bad enough seein' him tomorrow. Don't need you snickering the whole time."

"Okay, okay," Bobby agreed, and leaned in to brush a slight kiss against Nick's lips. Nick's still-unresolved erection stirred slightly, and he frowned at his own body as the kiss ended. Bobby noticed his frown and glanced down, too, smirking when he did. "Seems you've got a problem still."

Despite himself, Nick smirked slightly. "That an offer?"

"Long as you don't yell 'Ecklie' midway through, yeah."

Nick tried to glare at him, but he could only glare at someone who was kissing him for so long, so he finally gave up. And, considering the fact that a real Bobby - morning breath and all - was a better kisser than even a dream Ecklie, he wasn't complaining in the least.