Title: Rose Tint My World
By: geekwriter
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Summary: "There is no way in hell I'm gonna meet your friends for the first time in nothing but gold underwear."

"Sorry I'm late," Nick called as he kicked the front door shut behind him. He dropped his keys in the tray on the hall table and paused to hang up his coat. "Greg?" he asked, quickly scanning the apartment.

"Bathroom," Greg called. "I'm still getting ready."

Nick let out a quick sigh of relief. If Greg was still getting ready he wouldn't be mad at Nick for getting home late. "What time is this thing at again?" he asked as he walked down the hall towards their bedroom. He peeled his t-shirt off and tossed it in the hamper on his way past.

"Midnight."

"Weird time to see a movie."

"It's tradition, Nick," Greg said in an amused tone.

"So it's like, what? A Halloween movie?"

"Not exactly."

"Why do we have to dress up, then?"

"We don't have to, it just makes it more fun. Your costume's on the bed."

Nick toed off his shoes and set them side by side in the closet, then shucked his jeans and socks and tossed them in the hamper. When he turned towards the bed all he saw was a pair of underwear. A pair of gold lamé underwear.

"Greg?"

"Yeah?" Greg's voice echoed from within the bathroom.

"Where's the rest of it?"

"That's it. I couldn't find the right boots, but we can cheat and use your hiking boots. Not like anybody's going to be looking at your feet."

"I'm not going out in public in just my underwear."

"We're wearing trench coats on the way there."

"There is no way in hell I'm gonna meet your friends for the first time in nothing but gold underwear."

"Well, I can't say I didn't anticipate this," Greg said, leaning against the bathroom doorframe. "I did put together a Brad outfit for you though, really, you'd make a hell of a hot Rocky."

Nick stood frozen in place, gold lamé briefs completely forgotten. He actually hadn't registered a single word Greg said since he'd come into view. He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out and it occurred to him that it probably looked like he was doing an impersonation of a goldfish.

"What do you think?" Greg asked, pushing away from the doorway and doing a quick turn. "Oh, wait, let me get my boa."

Nick just nodded. His boyfriend was wearing, among other things, thigh-high black stockings held up by a lace garter belt, a sequined red corset that laced up the front, elbow-length fingerless gloves, a strand of pearls, heavy eyeshadow, and dark red lipstick.

"OK," Greg said, emerging from the bathroom with a black feather boa draped over his shoulders. "Now what do you think?"

Nick managed to emit a noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak.

Greg smirked, then flipped the boa over his shoulder and said in a low, teasing voice, "A mental mindfuck can be nice."

Nick took a deep breath, hands shaking. Fuck. Mindfuck was right. Greg was dressed like a woman. A very trashy woman. And it was hot. He shouldn't think it was hot, should he? He liked guys. He liked guys who looked like guys. But he really, really liked the look of Greg's long legs in black thigh-highs.

He moved forward quickly, caught the look of surprise on Greg's face before kissing him roughly. He could feel the rough prickle of sequins against his bare chest, the silky glide of satin, the tickle of feathers. He could taste Greg's lipstick, mixing with the taste of Greg's mouth. He suckled on Greg's tongue, moved forward again forcing Greg to back up until he was pressed against the bathroom counter.

"Gonna fuck you," he growled as he yanked Greg's panties down. Fuck. Greg was wearing panties.

Greg's only response was a moan as he kissed Nick back and fumbled blindly in the medicine cabinet behind him for the lube.

Nick gripped him hard by the hips and lifted him up onto the counter, angling his ass forward. Greg kept kissing him, reached in through the fly of Nick's boxer briefs to pull out his cock. He stroked it quickly, then paused, then Nick felt Greg's hand on him again, slick with lube.

He didn't have close to enough patience to get Greg ready. He gripped the base of his cock, angled his hips until he felt the tip of it press against Greg's asshole.

"Do it," Greg urged, as turned on as Nick was.

Nick slid inside in one smooth motion, making Greg groan and drop his head back. His hands were gripping the edge of the counter tight, his legs wrapped around Nick's waist. His red lipstick was smeared from their kisses and Nick shuddered as he thought that it made Greg look like a slut.

He pulled back and slammed back in immediately, making Greg cry out and reach up to grip Nick's upper arm. He pulled at Nick with his legs, tried to pull him further inside and Nick closed his eyes and let his head fall forward as he found his rhythm. He was gripping Greg's hips so hard he knew he'd leave bruises, and Greg was crying out with each thrust, his voice expressing a mix of pleasure and pain.

Nick couldn't control the movement of his hips, just had to keep thrusting, keep fucking, wouldn't have been able to stop no matter what. He felt a tingle begin at the base of his spine, felt his balls begin to pull up close to his body. Greg had let go of his arm and braced his hand on the counter behind him, sending Nick's glasses case and a bottle of mouthwash to the floor. Every time Nick thrust into him the back of his head hit the wall but he didn't seem to care, just used his strong thighs to grip Nick's hips and arch up to meet every thrust.

Nick was close. He was so close. He had to get control of himself or he was going to come any second. Then Greg cried out, his back arching, and when Nick felt Greg's hot come pelt his stomach there was no chance of him gaining control. A few more thrusts and he was coming, too, coming so hard his eyes rolled back in his head. Then he collapsed forward, bracing his hands on the counter as he and Greg stayed where they were, catching their breath.

Greg moved first. He unhooked his legs from around Nick's waist and slowly eased them down. Nick pulled out of him slowly, tucked his cock back into his briefs.

"Mmm," Greg said, his eyes half open as he slumped back against the wall. "I didn't know you had a thing for genderfuck."

"Neither did I," Nick admitted with a grin.

Greg smiled, too, then pushed himself up and scooted off the counter. He took a few steps, then stopped to pull up the black panties that Nick had shoved halfway down his thighs. He patted Nick's chest lazily as he passed him on his way towards the bed.

Nick followed, admiring the way the silky material clung to the curves of Greg's ass. Maybe it was the panties.

Greg collapsed face down on the bed fully clothed. Or unclothed. Nick couldn't decide which. Then he propped himself up on his elbows, bent one knee as he looked back at the black patent platforms he was wearing. "Now I know why they call these 'fuck-me pumps,'" he said as he dropped his face and shoulders back onto the bed.

Nick stretched out beside him, slid his fingers through Greg's hair. "You know," he said softly, "this isn't the kind of pearl necklace I like best on you."

Greg laughed softly. "Pervert."

"You know you love it."

Greg hummed softly. "Yeah."

"This is the fourth time in a row we're gonna stand your friends up."

"That's OK." Greg was edging quickly towards sleep. "They think you're imaginary, anyway. You're my own personal Snuffleupagus."

Nick closed his eyes and slid his hand down Greg's back to cup his ass. The satin of Greg's panties was soft and slick beneath his palm and Nick felt a tingle deep in his gut. Yeah, it was definitely the panties.

**********

Extended Author's Notes: the movie Greg was going to take Nick to was, obviously, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, which I haven't seen for years but I think I got the costumes mostly right. I couldn't remember if Dr. Frankenfurter had a fur or a feather boa during the final floorshow, so I just went with feathers since Greg would never wear fur.