Title: Horse Sense
By: Caroline Crane
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG13
Summary: Greg's always been a betting man. ~1500 words.
Spoilers: for 11x11
A/N: My first completed fic of 2011 and it's a CSI episode tag. Who would have thought? After watching the rest of last night's episode I couldn't resist. Also here on AO3.

“Bathroom break with a Spartan, huh?”

Nick’s voice is close to his ear, breath warming his skin as he rests a hand on Greg’s hip to reach around him. He picks up the file lying on the table next to Greg’s elbow, fingers dragging along Greg’s waist as he straightens up again.

“I was interviewing a witness,” Greg says. “It was purely professional.”

“I saw the picture, G, and that Spartan was exactly your type. Total beefcake.”

“You’re the one I’m sleeping with. Does that make you beefcake too?”

“No,” Nick says, flipping the file open and scanning its contents before he looks up at Greg. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re not denying that you thought the guy was hot.”

Greg shrugs and glances over his shoulder to make sure the door to the lab they’re working in is closed. “Objectively speaking, sure, he was hot. But he wasn’t you.”

Nick laughs when Greg pulls the file out of his grip and sets it back on the table, but he lets Greg hook his fingers through Nick’s belt loops and tug him forward.

“Don’t think a little flattery’s going to get you your hundred bucks back.”

He leans in close, mouth just brushing against Greg’s, and it still kind of blows Greg’s mind that they’ve come so far in the past few years that Nick’s willing to fool around at work. There was a time when Nick would have a panic attack at just the thought that somebody in the lab might find out about them -- there was a time Greg wasn’t sure they were going to make it -- and it still takes Greg by surprise when Nick’s the one to initiate things these days.

He feels a familiar flutter in his stomach and huffs out a laugh of his own, then he presses forward and plants a firm kiss on Nick’s mouth.

“You could take it out in trade,” he offers, flashing the smile that always makes Catherine roll her eyes and Ray grin back at him like somebody’s proud father.

“I could,” Nick says, hands on Greg’s hips to pull him flush against Nick.

Greg gasps and then laughs again, a little breathless, and lets Nick push him up against the table. Nick’s lips brush his, thigh pressing between Greg’ knees until he takes the hint and plants his legs a little wider apart.

Nick grins and presses up until Greg’s grinding down against him, and there’s a window in the door so they’re going to get caught any second, but he can’t bring himself to remind Nick of where they are. Then Nick leans in and kisses Greg again, slow and wet and oh God, he’s never going to make it through the rest of their shift.

When Nick pulls back to look at him his smile makes the corners of his eyes wrinkle in that way that always makes Greg’s heart skip a beat. “But you know I don’t pay for it, G.”

Nick reaches around him and picks up the file, then he lets go and crosses the room. When he gets to the door he looks back long enough to sweep his gaze down the length of Greg’s body, smirk firmly in place and Greg’s going to kill him, just as soon as he remembers how to work his legs.

“Besides, you make it so easy.”

~

Greg’s still kind of pissed at Nick by the time they get a confession out of Horan. Not pissed enough to hold out on him or anything, but he’s planning to make Nick grovel for awhile before he puts out. Then Nick walks out of the interrogation room with his jaw set and a sad look in his eyes, the one that tells Greg just how hard he still takes every single death he sees on the job.

That’s part of what made him fall for Nick in the first place; as much as his hero complex drives Greg crazy, in a lot of ways it’s the best thing about Nick. What’s left of his anger flows right out of him when he sees Nick’s expression, and instead he focuses his energy on not pulling Nick close and wrapping his arms around him right there in the precinct house.

“Here you go,” Nick says when he stops next to Greg, holding out the hundred he won fair and square.

“What are you doing?” Greg asks, because he might have been kind of a sore loser, sure, but that doesn’t mean he really wants to welsh. “You won the bet.”

“No,” Nick says in the serious voice that Greg knows means he’s trying to do the right thing for the victim, and suddenly it’s not about either of them anymore. “No, all bets are off. Nobody wins here.”

He takes the hundred and puts it in his pocket as Nick walks away, back toward the locker room so he can grab his stuff and put this one behind him. Except he won’t; Greg’s known Nick almost twelve years, and he’s been in love with him for at least ten of those, so he knows Nick’s going to brood about the terrible things people do to each other all night.

Unless Greg can find a way to distract him, that is, and he grins to himself and follows Nick toward the locker room. When he gets there Nick’s tossing stuff in his bag, and when he hears Greg walk in he looks up. His jaw’s still clenched, but his eyes soften a little when he sees Greg, and just knowing he has that affect on Nick makes it hard to breathe for a second.

“You ready?” Nick asks, and Greg just nods and reaches into his locker for his jacket.

He follows Nick out to the parking lot, but when they reach Nick’s truck Greg stops Nick with a hand on his arm. “Let me drive.”

Nick frowns at him, but when Greg flashes the smile that always makes Wendy roll her eyes and Hodges agree to move his evidence to the top of the pile, Nick sighs and hands over his keys. He slides into the passenger seat and fastens his seat belt, then he leans back against the seat and closes his eyes.

Greg starts the truck and pulls out of the parking lot, down the street and past the turn they usually take to go home. He’s not even half a block past their turn before Nick’s opening his eyes to frown out the window, then back at Greg.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” is all Greg says, grinning when Nick scowls at him. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

Nick looks like he wants to argue, so Greg reaches for his hand where it’s resting on the seat between them, squeezing for a second before he lets go. Nick’s quiet for the rest of the short trip, but when Greg pulls up to the valet stand outside the Palazzo, Nick turns to look at him again.

“Look, Greg, I appreciate the thought and all, but can’t we just go home? Hotel sex isn’t all that sexy once you’ve seen the other side of it.”

“We’re not here to get a room,” Greg says.

He doesn’t bother pointing out that he knows exactly how Nick feels about hotel sex, or what a waste of money it is to rent a room at a place like the Palazzo when their own bed is less than five miles away. Instead he leans across the seat and plants a firm kiss on Nick’s lips, then he pulls back and grins at him.

“Now stop arguing and get out of the truck.”

Nick shakes his head, but Greg sees the corner of his mouth quirk into a little smile as he turns away to open the truck door. Greg hands the keys to the valet, then he reaches for Nick’s hand and pulls him into the lobby. He pulls Nick past the check-in desk and the fountain in the center of the lobby, past designer clothing stores and a display window full of jewelry to stop in front of Carnevino.

“What...” Nick begins, but Greg just rolls his eyes and leans in to kiss him again.

When he pulls back he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the hundred, then he waves it front of Nick. “I’m taking my beefcake out for a steak. Then I’m letting him take me home and get lucky for free.”

Nick laughs and reaches up to catch the hand still holding the hundred, shaking his head and leaning in for another kiss. His free hand comes up to rest on the small of Greg’s back, warm through the fabric of Greg’s shirt and he shivers a little when Nick pulls back to look at him.

“Thanks, G.”

“You can thank me after dinner,” Greg says, then he smiles and lets Nick steer him into the restaurant.