Entry tags:

fic:ecklie rides again, pairing:ecklie/greg 2005, rating:nc-17

Ecklie Rides Again (Ecklie/Greg)
Title: Ecklie Rides Again
Authors: Kat Reitz & tzigane
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ecklie/Greg (skeert yet?)
Disclaimer: CSI is copyright© CBS Broadcasting, Inc. All Rights Reserved. No profit is being made from this endeavor and we in no way lay claim to the characters or situations contained directly herein as they relate to the above mentioned copyright. In fact, we find that the more we love something, the more money we spend on it, and therefore the more in the hole we become as time goes by...
Summary: Why don't you close the door behind you and sit down?

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Tensions were running high in the lab, still, but he was proud of them, proud of how they'd all risen to the occasion and accomplished the almost impossible. Cracked an unsolvable case, when he'd been resigned to the fact that they'd lost one of their own in the line of duty.

They were the very best, but that didn't stop Conrad Ecklie from checking up on one of his most recent favorites.

He smiled when Sander's over-highlighted head peeked through his door.

"You called?" There was something about him now that was so different from before. Sanders had been great at his job, sure, one hell of a DNA tech. He’d also had too much time on his hands, obviously, because he’d goofed around a lot, been a clown, and the occasional urge to rip what was left of his hair out had struck Conrad more than once. Things were different now, though, better. Conrad liked him better. Maybe it was the seriousness, the toned-down hair, the dedication, or maybe it was something else.

"I did. Why don't you close the door behind you and sit down?" Conrad made the motion of pulling the blinds in his office a smooth one, casual as if he was drinking a cup of coffee.

He could see the dart of Greg’s tongue, the way that he moistened his lips nervously, eyes dilating just a little in the darkness of the office as the door shut behind him. "So, ah… What did you want to see me about? " he asked, shifting from foot to foot.

"You know what I wanted to talk to you about, Sanders." It wasn't the first time they'd done it, or the second, but Ecklie followed a mental script -- that was the point where Sanders could break for it, stop it and turn away.

Condrad turned his back to him for a moment before he sat down in his own desk, smiling with teeth. "Come over here."

He could see Greg swallow again, pause almost awkwardly as if he was going to leave after all, but then his eyes dropped and he moved around the desk, dropping to his knees just the way Conrad liked him.

Pretty young man, eyes lowered, mouth open. God.

He wondered if Greg did that for anyone else -- he hadn't exactly asked, but it certainly would go a long way to explaining Gil's patient tolerance of the DNA tech who turned over into field work.

"Do you know what you look like this way, Sanders?" Conrad leaned forwards faintly, to trace a thumb over the side of Greg's lax mouth.

There wasn't any answer…. Just the faint shake of his head, those lowered eyes more of a turn-on than Conrad really wanted to think about. The way Greg just naturally seemed to submit made him all the hotter, made him faintly jealous that he hadn't taken Greg away from Gil instead of Nick and Warrick. He'd been looking in the wrong direction, really, as far as Gil's attention went, or maybe Gil's attention had shifted because the others were no longer available. He wondered.

"You look like a beautiful slut." He twisted his hand, replacing thumb with a finger that he slipped into Greg's wet mouth for a lingering moment. Lips closed around it, sucking in a way that Conrad found almost too pleasing. For just a moment, he thought he saw Greg's eyes flicker upwards to look at him from beneath lashes, but that could have been a trick of the light. It could have been almost anything.

What it was... didn't matter. He pulled his hand back, tracing wet fingertip over Greg's lips. They were soft, and red-tinted before they'd even started, before friction rubbed at them. That was the most that Conrad ever dared to do in his office, and it was enough. "Come on, Sanders."

Come on, and hands rose automatically, tugging at the buckle of his belt, the catch and the fly of his trousers, pulling them down. What he wanted was undeniable, every time, and then Greg's mouth was on his cock, and nothing had ever felt like that. Maybe it was the possibility that they could get caught. Maybe it was knowing that he had something that belonged to Gil. Maybe Greg was just really good at sucking dick, who knew?

In the end, it was good. It was always good, and maybe it was the three factors together that made it so good. Conrad slid his fingers into already mussed hair, guiding Sanders as he started to slurp his way along Conrad's shaft. The slick feel of tongue writhing against the underside, nose pressed almost into Conrad's pubic hair, was deeply pleasing, and Conrad's fingers clenched in his hair to tug him just a little closer for just a little longer.

He liked the long slow suck, the deep throat. He liked to luxuriate in it, the way that Greg teased with tongue and lips and didn't bite or mark or choke. Sanders was better than paying for sex, better than a one night stand -- generally better hygiene.

"Oh, yeah."

Yeah, just like that, a hand sliding in to roll his balls between fingers deft and quick, accustomed to handling DNA equipment, processing evidence. Conrad slid down in his chair and tugged Greg even closer, ignoring the faint choking sound, the rough edge that he felt when he forced a little too much, a little too far.

Maybe it was better because of the choking sound, knowing that Greg was trying so hard but just not getting there. Just not getting it right, the over-achiever. He'd do that some day and not choke a little when Conrad pressed at the top of his head, lifting his hips to bump against Greg. He could feel the shudder of Greg's throat, his lips, could feel dampness that wasn't sweat dripping onto his belly, and that was enough, almost enough, so fucking close….

So close, and so hot, and he wasn't sure how long he could hold onto it.

It was the sway that he held over Sanders that was important. More than being caught, more than breaking Gil's toys, it was that sway, the feel of damp on his stomach because Greg wanted it, wanted it and didn't want it. Wept because Conrad was choking him with his cock, and that was a beautiful sight to look down at, just beneath the rumpled edges of his starched dress shirt.

Head bent down, his cock appearing and then disappearing between taut lips, fingers on his balls, stroking through his short hairs.

God, Conrad loved this, loved his job, loved Greg's fucking mouth….

It hadn't taken long. It never did take as long as Conrad wanted, but it was the sight of Greg kneeling there, the excitement of so many possibilities -- getting caught, breaking him, being brave enough to push Greg up over the desk and fuck his goddamned brains out. All of that made it so much, too much, and he spewed down Greg's throat with a heavy grunt. Orgasming right into Sander's mouth, getting swallowed like that, was the most ball-tingling way that Conrad could remember ever cumming. Nice and clean, and in the heavy silence that followed when he let Greg lift his head, Conrad could only gulp down air.

The only thing better than the way Greg wouldn't look at him beforehand was the way that he smirked up at him afterwards. "Can I go now?" he asked, voice husky and sexy in a way that always made Conrad force him to come back for more.

Conrad sat up, scooting back in the chair from his previous slump, and started to turn himself away. "You can, Sanders."

Pink tongue darted out one more time, just at the edge of Conrad's vision, lapping away the last drop of semen at the edge of his mouth, and then Greg stood and walked to the door. "You know where I am," he said without turning around, but Conrad knew what he looked like when he said it anyway.

Smug and smirking. He didn't know what Sanders got out of it, and he didn't really care to find out. Next time, he'd push the limits again, fuck his mouth a little and finger his ass, start to move things along.

He'd find out just how accommodating Greg Sanders was.