FANFIC: Among the Curves by Caroline Crane

Part of The Fetish Series:
Title:Among the Curves
Author:Caroline Crane
Rating: NC17 (See happy reading in sidebar!)
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Summary: Follows "Petal By Petal". Body paint take two.

This is his idea of heaven; he never thought he'd find himself in this situation, being able to touch Nick whenever he wants. Sometimes he wonders if he really did die in the explosion, and his eternal reward for being a decent human being is Nick. He doesn't say it out loud because he knows exactly what reaction he'd get; Nick doesn't talk about the explosion, and he doesn't think it's cute when Greg jokes about it.

But it gives him an idea, so he stops touching long enough to reach for the tube of white paint, squeezing a little onto the center of his palm and then rubbing his hands together. He sweeps paint-covered hands over Nick's back in broad strokes, watching the skin turn a ghostly white. Nick murmurs his approval and arches up into Greg's touch, muscles flexing under his fingers as his hands slide from Nick's shoulders all the way to his waist.

More paint and his hands sweep up Nick's arms, bent at the elbows and he slows down to trace the curve before he continues on to cover Nick's fingers with his own. When he pulls his hands away again there are thin, skeletal impressions of fingers on the backs of Nick's hands, delicate like the bones of a bird. Greg smiles at the effect and reaches for the paint again – black this time – and refocuses his attention on Nick's back.

He starts at the broad sweep of Nick's shoulders, only the tip of his index finger tracing a fine pattern across the quickly drying white. Nick shivers at the soft touch and starts to turn his head, but Greg catches him and pushes him back down with his free hand. "No moving. You'll ruin my masterpiece."

"Tickles," Nick murmurs, but he settles back down on the pillow, his muscles flexing under Greg's fingers as he searches for a more comfortable position.

When he finally stops moving Greg picks up where he left off, tracing careful lines across the top of the other man's shoulders. And he's never considered himself much of an artist, but he's always had a good eye for detail, and by the time he reaches the second row he's pleased with how his design is taking shape. Nick's back rises and falls steadily under his fingers, and when his breathing deepens and evens out Greg grins and leans over to press a kiss to the unpainted skin at the base of his neck.

A murmured 'mmm' escapes Nick's throat, letting Greg know that he's not quite asleep. He's not quite awake, either, and Greg's heart seizes up a little when the noncommittal 'mmm' is followed by a very committed 'I love your hands'.

I love your hands, like that's the kind of thing Nick just goes around saying. It's the closest he's ever gotten to 'I love you', though, so Greg will take it. He'll take pretty much whatever he can get from Nick, because after years of flirting and hoping and feeling a lot like a high school kid with a crush on the hot-but-unattainable young teacher, he's not going to mess things up by rushing anything.

So he takes all these little moments and puts them together, and even though he's pretty sure they all add up to Nick loving him he never asks. He never says the words out loud, even though he's felt them for a long time now. He's pretty sure Nick knows it, pretty sure he likes that Greg's crazy about him – at least that's the way it feels when they're naked and sliding together and Nick's buried inside him. And he doesn't mind that Nick knows, because Greg's always been the kind of guy to go for what he wants and let the details take care of themselves.

But it's the times like these that make it easy to believe Nick feels the same way – the times when they're the only two people in the whole world, and Nick lets his guard down long enough to let himself just feel.

It doesn't happen very often. Greg's known Nick for a long time, watched him play the hero on the job enough times to know that it's a big part of who Nick is. He needs to save people, needs to be the one to take care of everything. So it's hard for him to let someone else take care of him, hard for him to lie back and let Greg take over. It took them a long time to get to this point, but it was worth every second Greg had to wait just to see Nick completely relaxed. It's a secret only they share, and that means Greg has a piece of Nick that nobody else can touch, not Sara or Warrick or Catherine or any of Nick's frat brothers that show up in town every so often to relive their glory days.

He tries not to resent the infrequent reminders of Nick's past, but it usually means getting shut out of Nick's life for a few days or at least relegated to 'my friend Greg' status, and it's hard not to resent taking a back seat to Nick's image problems. It's the only thing they've fought about since they started sleeping together. Maybe Greg should have walked away then, but in the end it came down to the fact that he couldn't give up what Nick was willing to give him, no matter how little it was.

It makes him feel pathetic when he thinks about it that way, but when they're alone like this and Nick's pliant and relaxed it's worth it. Because he's got this, this part of Nick that nobody else every sees, and even if they never talk about it, that's enough to let him know how Nick feels about him.

He's just past Nick's shoulder blades when the other man stirs, not quite turning his head before he catches himself and settles down again. "What are you doing back there?"

Greg laughs low in his throat, and when the sound catches a little he prays Nick doesn't notice. "I'm doing what you asked me to do. Genius takes time, you know."

"Lucky for me you're worth the wait."

He hears the amusement in Nick's voice and he knows he should come up with some kind of response, something witty and self-satisfied that will turn it all back into a joke. But the past few hours have given him way too much time to think, and for once he doesn't really feel like playing along with their usual game. Instead he focuses on the skin under his fingers, stark white but still beautiful, smooth and perfect under his hands.

He watches the little shivers that roll through Nick's body when he hits a sensitive spot, wanting to chase them with his tongue until Nick's panting and pressing back against him. But he's only half finished with his design and he knows if he stops now he'll never finish. So he reaches for the paint again and keeps going, dipping his fingers into the valley along Nick's spine and then back up again, across the small of his back to start all over again on the other side.

Nick's arms are last, from the top of his shoulder all the way to his wrists, then down his hands to trace the bonelike impressions of his own fingers on Nick's skin. When he's done he sits back on his heels and admires the effect, grinning when Nick pushes himself up on his elbows and turns his head to try to catch a glimpse of Greg's handiwork.

"Too bad you used all the film," he says, picking absently at the coat of latex covering his palms. And it is too bad, because he'd really like a picture of this. He wants it bad enough to consider getting dressed and running to the gas station down the street for an overpriced roll of film usually reserved for the few tourists who wander into this part of town.

Before he can go through with it Nick shakes his head, the movement making his shoulders flex and just for a second Greg can almost imagine the pattern on Nick's back is real. "There's another roll in your desk drawer."

He flashes his most dazzling grin and pushes himself off the bed, planting a quick kiss at the base of Nick's spine before he heads to the living room in search of film. Less than ten seconds later he's back, fumbling with the camera for a few seconds until his brain catches up with him long enough to remember how to switch out the used roll for the fresh one. And he almost wishes Nick could take the pictures himself, because he does this for his job and he's better at it than Greg.

He uses almost the entire roll before he's satisfied that he's captured Nick from every possible angle, including several close-ups that will probably come out blurred and unrecognizable. It doesn't matter, though, because when he looks up again Nick's giving him that indulgent smile and Greg can't help it, he has to take a picture of that too. As soon as the shutter clicks Nick's reaching for him, his grin replaced by a mock-stern expression as he pulls the camera out of Greg's hands and sets it on the nightstand.

"Give a guy some warning," he murmurs when Greg slides down onto the mattress next to him, his arm around Greg's waist as he presses their lips together.

"Trust me, you looked perfect," Greg answers when Nick lets him up for air, his face flushed and his fingers twisted in Nick's hair.

Nick grins again and glances over his shoulder at the pattern on his back, shaking his head before he turns to look at Greg again. "You forgot to sign it."

Heat blossoms in the pit of Greg's stomach and sweeps outwards, making his whole body flush as Nick rolls onto his stomach and makes a show of stretching out next to Greg. And he can live with Nick's ownership kink as long as it goes both ways, so he grins and straddles the other man's legs, letting his weight settle on Nick's thighs as he pretends to consider how to sign his work. Finally he picks up the black paint again and chooses a spot right in the center of Nick's left cheek, carefully painting his initials on pale skin.

"I'm not done yet," he says when Nick shifts underneath him, ignoring the impatient grumble as he reaches for the red paint. He almost changes his mind when Nick props himself up on his elbows to watch, but finally he musters his courage and draws a cheerful red heart around the letters. When he's done he drops the paint back onto the paint-stained sheet and leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to the smooth skin just above his initials.

Automatically Nick shifts underneath him, and Greg mouths his way along Nick's skin, using one hand to push Nick's legs further apart. The other man groans and lets his head drop back onto the pillow, the groan shifting to a helpless moan when Greg's tongue slides inside him. And this is something else they don't do very often; Greg doesn't fool himself that he's the first, but he knows it means Nick trusts him. It took Nick awhile to relax enough around him to let Greg take over, to let him find all the spots that make Nick helpless with the need to come rightnow, so much that he can't help begging for it.

Knowing that he can do that to Nick is almost as big a turn-on as letting Nick do it to him; it doesn't happen nearly often enough, so he always tries to make it last as long as possible. He sets a slow pace, his hands on Nick's hips to keep him from pushing back against Greg's mouth. And he knows this drives Nick crazy, but that's part of the reason Nick likes it so much, so he ignores his own painful erection and sets a steady rhythm of short, quick thrusts that always leave Nick panting and begging for more.

His hands grip hard enough to leave more permanent marks than a pair of painted initials, and even that thought makes his cock twitch because there's a twisted part of him that gets off on the thought of Nick seeing the outline of Greg's fingers on his hips every time he takes a shower for the next week. There's another part of him that thinks it's a shame to mark up all that perfect skin, and he has to laugh at that because they've spent the entire afternoon marking each other.

He feels his laughter vibrate through Nick's body, and when he catches the movement of Nick's fingers twisting in the sheets on either side of him he pulls away abruptly, gripping Nick's hips and pulling him onto his knees. Those broad shoulders flex with the effort to push himself up, and for a second Greg watches, mesmerized, as two perfect wings stretch across Nick's back. Just for a second he almost believes that if he reaches out and touches them they'll be soft. He tests the theory by sliding one hand from the top of Nick's spine all the way to the base, over his hip to urge his legs just a little further apart.

Nick complies instantly, and when Greg slides inside him they groan in tandem, the sound vibrating through Greg's cock. And he's always been willing to go along with pretty much whatever Nick wants, but he can't deny that he loves the way Nick feels around him, tight and hot and pressing back, demanding more before Greg even starts moving. He pulls out and then slides right back in again, his eyes rolling back for a second before he reins in what little control he has left and forces his eyes open again. He doesn't want to miss a second of this, because Nick's back is arched and moving with each thrust, and Greg can almost imagine the wings he painted unfurling on each upstroke.

There are a thousand things he wants to say but can't, so instead he reaches around Nick to close a hand around his cock, wishing he'd taken the time to peel the latex off his hands. He can still feel the heat of Nick's cock, though, and when he slides a thumb over the head Nick still moans and thrusts erratically into his grip. He presses kisses to whatever skin he can reach, his fist working in time with his thrusts in and out of the body pressing back against him. And he can feel the pressure building at the base of his spine but he ignores it because he wants this to last, wants to draw it out for as long as Nick can stand it.

Then a hand closes around his own and Nick's fingers are gripping hard, the arm still holding him up trembling against his weight. The movement makes Nick's temporary wings look even more real, and Greg wants to touch them again but before he gets the chance Nick tenses and comes. He closes his eyes against the sudden tightness around his own cock, but he's already too far gone and before Nick even stops shaking Greg's thrusting one last time and moaning his own release.

He slides out of Nick before the other man collapses onto the sheet again, his back slick with sweat and making the wings look almost iridescent in the soft light of his bedroom. The only word for it is 'beautiful', but he knows Nick would hate that so he doesn't say anything at all. Instead he collapses next to the other man, turning onto his side to watch Nick's eyelashes flutter against his cheek. He's almost certain Nick's asleep when his eyes open suddenly, and Greg's breath catches in his throat when Nick grins lazily at him. Then he leans forward and breathing doesn't matter anymore, because his hand's in Greg's hair and he's sucking on Greg's bottom lip like he can't get enough.

Long moments later Nick finally pulls back to look at him again, fingers still stroking through his hair and sending tiny shivers of pleasure down Greg's spine. "How do we get this stuff off, anyway?"

And he can't help laughing at that, because it just figures Nick would come up with a practical question at a time like this. He lifts one hand and picks at the edge of the latex until it pulls free, then tugs a long strip down the center of his palm. "Soap and water works too."

Nick props himself up on one elbow and reaches for Greg's hand, pulling the rest of the latex off his palm with careful fingers. Greg waits until both his hands are clean, save a few spots of stubborn paint around his fingernails, then he slides a hand around Nick's neck and pulls him forward until they're sharing the same breath. "But it won't hurt anything if we leave it on for awhile."

fin