Title: It Was Too Easy
By: dhvana
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Nick's ready to go.

It was too easy.

All he had to do was linger a little too long at the bar, smile a little too encouragingly at the man already leaning dangerously close to him, and eventually his twinkie would stop dancing lewdly with the other twinkies and get the idea that he was ready to go.

The man's hand came to rest on his and right on time, a lime green shirt shiny enough to compete with the disco ball spinning overhead appeared between them, long arms wrapping around each of their shoulders.

"Evening, gentlemen. Enjoying the night?"

The dangerously close man frowned at the interruption, but then he caught sight of the brown eyes which currently had their own dangerous edge to them. Those eyes lured them in every time--they'd certainly worked on Nick--and the man relaxed, sliding an arm beneath the lime green shirt and around the lean hips.

"I can't speak for my friend here," he said, "but I have to say, my evening definitely just improved."

"Your friend?" Greg asked, brown eyes focusing hard on Nick though he kept his voice light and friendly. "Nicky, have you been making friends with out me?"

"Nicky--that's what they call you?"

"Well, it's either that, or 'stud'," Greg said with a particularly vicious grin. "Isn't that right, stud?"

"Stud," the man smiled, hungry eyes devouring Nick from head to toe. "I can see that."

Nick shot Greg a dirty look. Someone was feeling a little too playful tonight.

"So what do they call you?" the man asked, turning his eager eyes to Greg. He slipped a hand into Greg's pocket to draw their hips closer together, and Nick's blood pressure spiked. If that hand moved one inch to the left, Nick was going to break every bone in it.

"They call him Mac," Nick said before Greg could respond, "as in mac and cheese, because he's a little cheesy, but he's tasty and makes for a really good snack."

It was Greg's turn to apply the dirty look, but their companion seemed to approve.

"He definitely looks edible," he said, and the hand moved half an inch.

Greg's look changed to amused at the resulting growl from Nick's throat and his arm slid down from Nick's shoulders to rest on his ass. "Hey, stud, why don't you and this Texas tush of yours take me for a swing around the dance floor?"

"I don't know that I feel like--"

"I wasn't really asking," Greg said in a tight voice as he turned to the other man with an ingratiating smile. "If you'll excuse us. . ."

Nick gave the man a helpless shrug as Greg dragged him away from the bar.

Away from the bar, across the floor, through the crowd, and out the door.

"Thought we were going to dance, Mac?"

"Yeah, um, no," Greg said and pushed him against the wall outside the club, crashing his mouth against Nick's. Greg kissed him until his knees grew weak, his head started to spin, he forgot his name, his age, the color of his hair, and the only thing keeping him conscious was the feel of Greg's lips against his and the painful throbbing in his pants.

When Greg finally set him free, he stared into the brown eyes, aching for breath and wondering why they'd stopped.

"Next time you want to leave," Greg said, "just ask."

Grabbing Nick by the shirt, Greg pulled him across the parking lot to his car, missing the smirk that crossed Nick's face.

It was too easy.