Title: The proper way to do laundry
By: HollywoodVegasHottie
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R
Summary: An over-hyper Nick...does Greg's "laundry" WARNING: Very random and male on male. Dedicated to Jeff! :D

***

Greg Sanders. Mmmmm. I just wanna take him home and do him—I-I-I mean, his laundry. Ooh yeah. Those boxers probably could use a good scrubbing. By hand. While he's still wearing them. I could just imagine it now...

~*~

"Hey, Greg, what's up?" I say to him in the locker room. He looks at me shyly because he is conveniently wearing nothing but boxers for no apparent reason. "Heading home?"

"No." He says. "Pulling a double."

"Geez, that sucks." I say and then, OOPS! I spill my thermos of coffee all over his boxers. "Snaps! Let me take care of that!" I take action before Greg can protest.

I grab a rag and a bucket of soap water and start scrubbing the front of his boxers...the RIGHT way, if you know what I mean. Soon Greg is making all sorts of racket, hanging on to his locker door for support and moving against my hand.

"OH, YEAH! THESE BOXERS ARE GONNA BE SQUEAKY CLEAN WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU!"

Well, unfortunately for me, the racket drew some attention and pretty soon Grissom strode in with his Grissom look fully intact.

"Nick, do I even want to know what you're doing?" He asks, looking almost fearfully at the very happy Greg.

"I'm cleaning Greg's boxers right now, Griss!" I say, and speed up a little on my "scrubbing."

"Why is he making all those weird noises? He's looking a little too happy." Grissom says, watching Greg writhe around in pleasure.

"He likes um...that he's getting his boxers PIMPED OUT, man!" I lie. "You see, I'm gonna fit him, and then there's this rip that I'm gonna sew, and Greg just...is SO grateful! Right, Greg?"

"YES, Nicky, YES, YES, YES!" Greg moans. Grissom looks very alarmed and looks at me.

"Uh...it's a Greg thing." I say. Grissom begins to nod in understanding as Greg's moans subside a little, but then suddenly points at Greg's crotch.

"What's that white stuff?" He asks suspiciously. Crap.

"I-I-I-It's, uh...It's the...LIQUID SOAP! Yes, it's the liquid soap I was using to scrub his boxers. I guess it seeped in and now somehow it's...seeping out..."

Insert awkward silence in which Greg slumps down unto the bench in over-happiness and Grissom looks at me like I'm an idiot.

"Alright...well...don't be late for next shift."

"Don't worry. We'll...um...come..."

END.

***