Title: Mondays at the Office
Author: amazonqueenkate
Category: Pointless smutty humor, really.
Spoilers: None
Rating: R
Pairing: Warrick/Greg, with some Hodges on the side
Summary: Hodges has an unusual Monday morning, to say the least.

It was just after dawn on a Monday when David Hodges walked into the men's locker room to witness Greg Sanders giving Warrick Brown what appeared to be the best blowjob of his life.

For all his verbosity, he was, at first, speechless. Sanders' wet mouth tantalized him with a gentle slurping sound unlike anything else he'd ever seen, and Warrick's large, dark hands made fists against the lockers as he leaned his head against the metal. A guttural groaning growl echoed in the back of his throat, and it took all of Hodges' self-respect (not restraint, mind you, but simply self-respect) not to drop his trousers in the middle of the doorway and placate his now-throbbing cock.

But there were still members of the night shift wandering around the lab, so instead, he stepped fully into the locker room and, as quietly as he could, flipped shut the master lock. The lock was old and clunky, though, and Sanders pulled his mouth off Warrick at the noise. Warrick's enormous erection glistened with saliva for a moment before the recipient of all the pleasure realized exactly what was going on and moved to hide himself from view.

For a few very tense seconds, they all stared at one another, though Hodges had to admit that he was not really staring at either of them, but rather what Warrick was trying to hide with his hand. And, from what he could tell, Sanders and Warrick weren't really interested in his face, but the unfortunate tent in his neatly pressed dress pants.

And to think, he'd wondered why the baggy jeans fad had ever become possible.

Then, Sanders rolled his eyes and shook his head, his disheveled hair flopping a bit. "It's rude to stare," he stated, a slight smirk crossing his lips. "See something you like?"

Warrick reached down and grasped a handful of that obnoxiously highlighted hair. "C'mon, man," he urged, tugging Sanders' head ever-so-slightly. "It's only Hodges. If he doesn't want to join in, it's his problem."

A tongue darted across already-damp lips as the kneeling CSI gave in to Warrick's guidance. "You are welcome to join us, Hodges…"

"Hodges… Hodges!"

Hodges jerked up into a sitting position to see Sanders and Warrick hovering over him, sharing an amused expression with one another. He blinked and slowly, the break room came into full view…as did the small puddle of drool he'd left on the break room table.

"Nice nap, dreamer?" chuckled Warrick as Hodges wiped at the wet spot with his sleeve, scowling. "How ‘bout getting back to that trace we gave you hours ago?"

Sanders flashed a damned smug grin as Hodges pushed back his chair and stood up, suddenly glad that the table was just around waist height. "I was not dreaming," he retorted coolly, "and the only reason I was in here anyway was because your trace has been done for an hour."

"Sure, sure," Warrick waved before nudging Sanders in the side. "C'mon. He'll page us when he's done."

Sanders nodded and moved to leave as well, but he flashed that charming smirk back over his shoulder again. "Yeah, you're right," he commented innocently. "I'm sure Hodges will tell us who ‘Sandy' is eventually."

Hodges never fell asleep at work again.