Title: Hotdogs
Author: sephirothflame
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own CSI, or any characters in it. Just a bunch of icky hotdogs.
Warnings: Slash
Pairings: Greg Sanders x David Hodges
Summary: Hodges hates hotdogs. How they got in his house and why Greg was actually eating them was beyond him.
Spoiler warning: None, mentions of Dog Eat Dog though...
Rants: I hate hotdogs. I can't stand them. How this story came about, I don't know. But it involves hotdogs. Icky.
Once again, this one was originally posted on LJ and got skipped over as I posted my fics on FF... Funny, how this one seems to have changed. However, I must admit, I have a new found love of Hebrew National Hotdogs. It's all kosher and yummy. : ) Meh. This one is just kinda fluffy. Rawr.

"Do you know what's in that crap?"

"No, does it matter?"

He liked to think he didn't hate many things, that he was a relatively lenient guy. Hell, if he could put up with the spiky-haired blonde he had to have one hell of a tolerance as it was. Of all the things he couldn't stand, hotdogs were one of them. Literally, anything could be in it. How the disgusting wanna-be meat products had made it in his apartment was beyond him. And, as much as he would like to watch Greg choke and die sometimes, he couldn't die because of a hotdog.

David sighed, shaking his head. There was just no reasoning with some people.

"You know, when I went and bought all those hotdogs?" Greg asked, trying to chew at the same time.

"Yes," David replied, unable to watch the sickening sight of Greg eating, "Don't talk with food in your mouth."

"Well, I learned what was in hotdogs," Greg replied, kind of lamely. "You know, all the pork and stuff."

David made a disgusted face, turning away from Greg to sip is drink. If the blonde noticed or cared, he didn't say or do anything. Just licked ketchup off the corner of his mouth and continued talking about what he had found in hotdogs. For someone who didn't know what was in hotdogs, he sure seemed to know his stuff. Disgusting blonde, and his disgusting hotdogs and his disgusting eating habits of talking with food in his mouth and chewing with his mouth open.

Bleck, was the first thing that came to mind.

"You know, if you chew with your mouth closed, you actually eat more food," David said, eyeing the nonchalant blonde.

"Does it annoy you?" Greg asked, and David stared at him coldly, "Sorry..." he smiled meekly.

He ate with his mouth closed. For about two or three minutes. Old habits (particularly disgusting habits) die hard. At least he was trying, so David supposed he should forgive him, but then again, "do or do not, there is no try" also comes to mind. Hell, it was Greg. He could be forgiven. For now.

"You want some?" Greg asked, watching David intently.

"You expect me to eat one of those disgusting things?" David asked, raising an eyebrow.

Greg shrugged, "Just trying to be nice."

"Nice my ass, you want to kill me," David retorted in a dry tone.

"So you found out my evil plan," Greg grinned, bouncing over to David and wrapping his arms around the older male's waist, "To continue or stop?"

"Stop," David replied, "You've got ket-"

Of all the things the blonde had ever done, this was probably the worst. Eating those disgusting hotdogs and kissing him, licking his lips and oh-god did Greg have to do this? Nibble on David's lower lip and then slide his hands up the back of his shirt. Warm skin, warm Greg, warm tongue and the taste of still warm hotdogs. He wanted to resist, really, but it was the stupid little blonde was so... so... hell, he couldn't think of a word with the lack of oxygen he was currently suffering from.

"Stupid-idiot," David murmured, trying to pull away from Greg's evil grasp of doom.

Stupid idiot? No snark? What was this, a simple snark deficiency? Surely he could say more then that! But, Greg's lips were pressed against his own, the stupid hotdog tasting tongue teasing him. After a moment, Greg stopped, grinning like the idiot he was. David cursed him mentally. He licked his lips bitterly, wiping away the stupid ketchup from the disgusting hotdog.

"I will kill you," David said simply, resting his chin on the blonde's shoulder.

"Hm? No sarcasm?" Greg asked, kissing David's neck gently.

"You taste and smell like hotdogs," David pouted (not that he'd admit to pouting).

"So?"

"Do anything like that again and I will kill you."

"Mmkay."