![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annundrielFor Every Action
DiNozzo/McGee
NC-17
4084
Mild bondage
Prompt: For every Tony action (McInsult, inappropriate touching), there is an equal and calculated Tim action.
As usual, thanks go to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ginnith for putting up with my craziness. I also want to thank grammarwoman for the prompt. I had a lot of ideas, but it was the one with the handcuffs that stuck. I really hope you like it!
“I can’t believe you still don’t have a couch, McGee,” Tony says, toeing off his shoes at the end of the bed before flopping on the covers and switching on the bedside lamp. Jethro jumps up on the bed with him, turning a couple of circles before curling up near Tony’s feet.
“I don’t really need one, Tony. It’s not like I do a lot of entertaining.” Tim sounds distracted in the other room. If Tony leans to the right over the side of the mattress, he can see Tim frowning at his typewriter, hands poised over the keys.
“Ah, but you’ve got me to entertain now,” Tony calls. “And no couch to do it on. Just this big bed. Where I am.” Tony pauses, but gets nothing from the other room. “All alone.”
Tim sighs loud enough Tony can hear it. “I need to work on this. Entertain yourself.” As Tim’s fingers hit the keys, Tony rolls his eyes and smirks. He could entertain himself, he thinks, make it sound like so much fun Timmy can’t stay focused and has to come join in.
But he’s seen the focused look Tim’s been getting lately, the small crease of frustration between his brows, and for once decides to leave well enough alone. Tony reaches for the magazine he left on the floor by the bed the night before and flips through it.
It doesn’t take long before he’s dozing off to Jethro’s heavy doggie-breaths coming from the end of the bed, the sound of Tim typing steadily away in the other room. He closes his eyes, thinking he’ll just rest for a minute, give Tim some time to get some work done before going out there and dragging him to bed.
*
When Tony opens his eyes, it’s silent, no more Tim typing away, Jethro absent. It’s probably time to walk him, Tony thinks. He moves to check his watch and finds he can’t, hands suspended above him, handcuffs around his wrists, threaded through the slates of the headboard. Tony blinks sleep rapidly away. He must have been really out of it to sleep through someone—Tim, hopefully Tim—handcuffing him to the bed.
He rattles the cuffs a little against the wood, testing them. They’re either his or Tim’s, he can’t be sure, and they’re definitely secure. Tony’s about to call out when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Tim’s standing in the doorway, smirking. Tony’s pulse ratchets up a notch at the sight.
“Hey, Tim,” he says, feeling somehow caught out, which is ridiculous. It’s not like he cuffed himself here. “What’s going on?”
Tim moves forward and Tony had no idea, he really didn’t, that Tim could stalk like that. Well, okay, maybe he had an inkling. He has seen the guy in interrogation before. McGee can be intimidating when he puts his mind to it. Except he’s never put his mind to it with Tony as the target. Not like this anyway.
“Oh, nothing much,” Tim says, pulling off nonchalant remarkably well as he pauses at the end of the bed. He reaches out and runs a couple of fingers up the sole of Tony’s foot and Tony resists the urge to jerk away. “I just thought maybe it was time you had a taste of your own medicine.”
“Time for me to get my comeuppance?”
Tim’s eyebrows squinch together. Tony wants to kiss the line that appears. “Comeuppance?”
“I know things!” Tony stretches his arms a little and glances up. “What I don’t know is how any of that involves handcuffing me to the bed. They’ll miss me at work, you know.”
“I’m not going to keep you here that long. It’s just time you were on the receiving end.”
Tony leers. “I thought I had been on the receiving end. Plenty of times.”
Tim blushes, a sweet flush across his cheeks. Tony’s followed that blush with his mouth before, over Tim’s jaw and along his throat, down his chest. Every pale inch of skin pinking up just for Tony.
“Not what I’m talking about, Tony.”
“You sure?” Tony asks. “Because from where I’m at, it looks like it might be. I mean, I know you’re less vanilla than you look, but—”
Anyone else and Tony would classify the sound Tim makes as a growl. It’s surprising and Tony finds his mouth snapping shut, blood zinging in his veins as Tim looms over him. “I’m talking about work, DiNozzo. About all the times you can’t keep your hands to yourself while we’re on the clock.”
As he’s talking, Tim reaches down and slowly pulls the socks off Tony’s feet. Tony never really thought of his feet as being particularly sensitive before, but now he can feel every inch of skin as it’s exposed.
“It’s distracting, Tony.” Tim’s kneeling at the end of the bed now, knees on either side of Tony’s calves. He moves forward until he’s hovering over Tony’s thighs and, boy, does Tony know distracting. Tim leans over him until his face is inches above Tony’s, his breath ghosting across Tony’s cheek. “Do you know how difficult it is to collect evidence when all you want to do is get your partner someplace private?”
Tony’s having some trouble getting his breathing under control, but if Tim doesn’t get that he’s thought the same thing, that he thinks the same thing way more often than he should and that’s why he can’t keep his hands to himself, well. They clearly have some communication to work on.
“Yes,” he starts. “Yes, I—”
Tim sits back against his thighs, looking down at him. “It’s hard, Tony. Really hard,” he says, and then his hand is there—right there—cupping Tony through his slacks and Tony sucks in a sharp breath because he’s hard, too.
“And,” Tony tries, but it comes out in a register he’s not going to admit making. Licking his lips, he closes his eyes and tries again. “And your point?” When he opens his eyes, Tim’s smiling down at him. There are teeth behind that smile; it’s hiding something devious. Or promising something devious. Tony’s not entirely sure, but it makes his blood boil either way.
“I just thought it was time I did some inappropriate touching of my own.” Tim smiles, squeezing Tony’s cock through layers of clothes before releasing him, hands moving to unfasten Tony’s belt, his pants.
“Oh, God,” Tony says, swallowing hard as Tim’s fingers brush against him through the material. It’d be embarrassing—how hard Tony is and how quickly he’s gotten there—if it weren’t for the fact that he’s completely distracted by how much he wants Tim to touch him. Not to mention the way the metal of the handcuffs bites into his skin just enough to remind him Tim’s the one with the upper hand.
An upper hand that he’s exploiting. He’s taking his time undoing Tony’s belt, lingering over the zipper as he eases it down over Tony’s erection. “Tim,” Tony groans.
Tim looks up at him, eyes glinting, before he leans forward and kisses him, surprisingly hard for a mouth that looks so soft. Tim’s deceptive like that, though. It’s something Tony’s learned. Is continuing to learn.
Tim’s mouth is hot and demanding against his and Tony’s world narrows until that’s all there is, the slide and drag of tongue and teeth. It expands again when Tim slips a hand inside his underwear, wraps his fingers around Tony’s cock. Tony bucks into it and bites down, nipping Tim’s lip in the process. They’re both groaning when Tim pulls away, lips red and inviting, begging to be touched more, kissed harder. When Tony tries to get to him, he can’t.
Straining against the handcuffs, Tony frowns at Tim. “Okay. You’ve done your inappropriate touching. You want to undo these?”
Tim chuckles under his breath and looks down at his hand around Tony, rubs a thumb across the head. Tim’s tongue darts out over his bottom lip. It distracts Tony for a moment and then the need to run his tongue along that same path reasserts itself. “C’mon, McGee,” he says. He knows he’s whining, but he can’t help it.
Leaning in, Tim presses a quick kiss to Tony’s mouth. Before Tony can react, he’s pulling away completely, releasing his hold on him. “No, Tony,” Tim says, shuffling backward on his knees. “I’m not finished.” Tim’s hands skate down Tony’s sides, pulling Tony’s shirt free from his slacks before his hands are on the buttons, carefully undoing each one so his fingers are nothing more than a brush against Tony’s exposed skin. Tony’s practically panting beneath him by the time he’s finished.
Slipping fingers beneath the waistbands of Tony’s pants and underwear, Tim works them down over Tony’s hips, careful of his erection. He slides down Tony’s legs, inching backwards until he can slip them off.
Tim gets up, letting Tony’s clothing drop to the floor, and walks into the bathroom. Tony’s trying to calm down, to relax and get his heart rate under some control. Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply once, twice, and then calls out. “Tim! Tim, you better not—” Opening his eyes, he sees Tim in the doorway, his own shirt untucked and unbuttoned, bottle of lube in his hand. He’s watching Tony with dark eyes, cheeks flushed. His lips are not nearly kiss-swollen enough.
Tony’s only half-naked, but when Tim looks at him he feels every inch of it.
The scrutiny makes him a little nervous. They’ve been doing this—variations of this—for a while, but never this exactly. Tim’s never so clearly taken charge before and Tony realizes with a jolt that he likes it. That scares him. Tim could get him all worked up and leave him to suffer for as long as he wants. That’s essentially what Tony keeps doing to him when he touches Tim too much at work.
But Tim’s always been nicer than Tony.
Tony can feel his skin heating up as Tim watches him. He shifts against the covers, grinning when Tim follows the movement of his lips. He might be the one restrained here, but he’s not entirely without power. “I thought you had some touching you wanted to do?” he asks, grin sliding easily into a smirk. “Can’t do that all the way over there.”
“Maybe I’ve done all the touching I wanted. Maybe I’ve had my fill.”
Tony raises an eyebrow and stares pointedly at Tim’s crotch, Tim’s erection evident beneath the material of his pants. “Somehow I think that’s unlikely.” When Tim doesn’t move, Tony frowns at him, growing serious. He swallows hard. “C’mon, Tim, you’re not going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“I probably should.”
“But you won’t.”
Tim stays in the doorway long enough for Tony to start thinking maybe Tim would leave him to suffer. Take his lube and his own left hand and take care of himself where Tony can hear him and be completely unable to do anything about it.
But then Tim steps forward, tossing the lube onto the bed beside Tony. “No,” he says, “I won’t. That’d be like cutting off my nose to spite my face.”
“Poor face,” Tony says.
Tim chuckles softly, hunching his shoulders as he takes off his shirt. “No kidding.” He drops the shirt to the floor and moves to his pants, sliding them over his hips, his dick, until they’re pooled at his feet.
Tony can’t look away, palms itching to touch all of that smooth, flushed skin. Not thinking, Tony reaches out only to be brought up short, the metal of the handcuffs biting into the skin on his wrists, keeping him from really indulging in naked McGee. He can’t help but groan in frustration. “Tim.”
Tim glances up at him, pulling a foot free from the leg of his slacks, and grins, looking devious. “This has gotta be torture for you, huh, Tony? Mr. Tactile pinned down.”
Tony sighs in frustration and focuses on relaxing his arms. He’s going to be sore when this is over. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You better believe it.” Free of his pants, Tim steps around to the end of the bed and kneels between Tony’s legs. He moves forward, nudging Tony’s thighs apart with his knees and smiles as Tony shifts his hips, cock bobbing against his stomach as he widens his legs without more prompting.
“God, Tony,” Tim says, smile slipping off his face as he looks down at him. “You look so good like this.” He skims the back of his fingers up Tony’s ribs and Tony shudders. “I hardly know where to start.”
“Anywhere. You can start anywhere. Just start.”
“Impatient.” Tim smirks. “You don’t get to push me here, Tony. That’s kind of the point.”
“Nobody’s doing any pushing as far as I can tell,” Tony says and then gasps, Tim’s thumb flicking over his nipple.
“No?” Tim asks, bending forward, following the movement of his thumb with a swipe of his tongue. He looks up at Tony through his lashes and Tony shivers at the look he sees there, at the breath brushing across Tony’s wet skin. “I guess we’ll have to fix that.”
Tim descends on him then, mouthing at one nipple before licking and sucking his way across Tony’s chest to the other, repeating the process there. It’s a start, but it’s not nearly enough, not when Tim isn’t touching him anywhere else. Tony wants more.
Arching into Tim’s touch, he pants, “Tim. Tim, just…” He gasps when Tim nips at a nipple and ignores him, taking his time as he mouths his way down Tony’s chest, over his belly until finally—finally—he pulls away to hover over Tony’s cock. It takes all of Tony’s willpower not to thrust his hips.
Tim licks his lips and then looks up, meeting Tony’s eyes before leaning down again, hot breath ghosting across Tony’s dick , and licks up the crease of his thigh, pausing to nip at his hip.
Tony’s breath rushes out all at once and he realizes he’s been holding it, waiting for Tim to stop messing around and get down to business. “You’re such a tease,” he breathes.
“Takes one to know one,” Tim says, sitting back on his heels. His skin is flushed and there’s a slight sheen of sweat to it. He looks utterly touchable.
”This is unfair,” Tony growls, leaning his head back to look at the cuffs. “Really, really unfair.”
“Thought you liked a little light bondage, Tony.” Tim’s smiling at him, fond and curious. His hands are on Tony’s thighs now, thumbs rubbing soft circles against his skin. Tim’s hands are gentle but firm, soothing, and Tony relaxes beneath them. When Tim goes from circling to rubbing up and down, Tony relaxes even further.
“Usually, I’m, uh, on the other end,” he says, mouth suddenly feeling dry as Tim reaches across the bed for the lube.
“Well,” Tim says, snapping the bottle open. “We’ll have to try that sometime.”
Tim’s fingers are slick against his entrance, cool against his overheated skin. Tony gasps a little at the first touch and Tim’s mouth lifts apologetically. He’s still careful with this, working one finger in at a time, stretching Tony around him. Tony thinks it’s sweet; frustrating on occasion because of what it might mean about how Tim still sees Tony, but sweet. Right now, though…
“Tim. You’ve got me cuffed to the bed. Would you just fuck me already?”
Tim blushes and, Jesus, Tony wants to lick him, wants to get his mouth all over him. He presses his fingers deep inside Tony, to that spot that always leaves Tony gasping and arching off the bed. Pulling away, Tim leans across Tony’s body to pull open the drawer on the nightstand, coming back triumphant with a condom in hand.
“Should’ve gotten that out before, Mr. Boy Scout.”
“Shut up, Tony.” Tim’s fingers slide against the foil before he gets it open and slips the condom on himself.
Tony can’t help himself. “First he wants me to be immobile, then he wants me silent. What’s next, gags and—oh!”
Tim moves his hips backwards, almost pulling completely out. “Looks like I found another way to get you to stop talking.” Tim pushes forward again, hands pulling at Tony’s hips. He leans forward and licks into Tony’s mouth. “Now if only it could be used at work.”
Tony does his best to kiss back; it’s hard to focus with Tim’s hands hot and firm against him, Tim’s cock inside him. They kiss as Tim fucks him, messy and wet. It would be so much easier if Tony could just fit his arms around him and pull him tight against him. He can’t, so he makes due.
Tim groans and sits back. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth and a look of concentration on his face, eyes closed.
“Hey.” Tony wraps a leg around Tim’s waist. “Hey. Tim. C’mon,” he says. “Look at me.”
He does, eyes focused and intent. Tony feels that look down to his bones. There’s a part of him that wants to turn away, wants to close his own eyes in response, but he can’t. He won’t. He’s the one who asked. This is what he wants, who he wants.
Everything he wants.
It’s not a surprise or a revelation, it just is.
Tony really hopes Tim gets the picture.
“Oh,” Tim groans, breathing heavy above him. “Oh, God, Tony. You’re—You look—Fuck.”
Tim shifts suddenly and Tony groans at the change in angle, Tim’s cock brushing over his prostate with each thrust. “Tim,” Tony gets out, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Tim, God yeah.”
Tim’s grip on his hips loosens—Tony knows he’s going to be marked up for a few days; he can’t bring himself to care—and he wraps a hand around Tony’s cock. That longed for touch is all it takes and Tony’s coming, spilling over Tim’s hand and onto his skin. He hears Tim swear, feels him thrust harder, watches him pant and moan until his hips stutter and he’s coming inside him.
He collapses on Tony and all Tony wants to do is wrap Tim up and fall asleep right where they are. But they’re sticky and kind of gross and his arms are still suspended above him.
Tony waits long enough for their breathing to slow before he rocks a little underneath him, knocking a knee against Tim’s side. “You wanna let me loose now? I think my hands are starting to fall asleep.”
His hands aren’t the only thing. Tim raises his head and blinks at him with heavy eyelids. “What—?” he starts, before the situation reasserts itself through the haze of orgasm and the call of sleep. His eyes widen and he pushes himself off of Tony. “Oh, God. Sorry, Tony.”
When he pulls out, Tony hisses a little and Tim looks apologetic for a moment before removing the condom and heading to the bathroom. He’s got a damp washcloth with him when he comes back, stopping by the side of the bed to bend over and rifle through his pockets. Tony takes the opportunity to enjoy the view and smiles when Tim holds the key up in triumph.
“I don’t think the lesson would have had the same impact had you lost the key,” Tony says as Tim sits on the edge of the bed and reaches up to undo the cuffs.
Tim grins down at him through his arms. “You’d never let me live it down.”
“You got that right.”
His arms are tired from being raised so long. Tony lowers them carefully as pinpricks run up and down his fingers. Tim sets the handcuffs on the nightstand with the keys and wraps a hand right above Tony’s wrist, pulling Tony’s arm toward him. The skin is red there and Tim’s examining it, looking for damage. He frowns at it and then down at Tony. “Sorry,” he says. “I probably should’ve gotten padded or—”
“They’re fine, McGee. Don’t worry about it.” Tim looks away and picks up the washcloth, runs it carefully over Tony’s wrists before cleaning him up. He won’t meet Tony’s gaze.
Tony rolls his eyes and fits a hand against the back of Tim’s neck, pulling him down and kissing him. It’s soft and sweet and everything it wasn’t before, but it’s still them. When he pulls back, hand still on Tim’s neck, Tim meets his eyes. “It’s good, Tim. Really good.”
Tim nods and gives him a quick peck. He stands and digs his boxers out of the pile of clothes on the floor, pulls them on. Tony forgoes the underwear and follows him into the bathroom where they brush their teeth side by side. In the bedroom, Tony pulls back the covers and climbs into bed as Tim picks up the washcloth and the clothing on the floor, throwing them all in his laundry hamper. Tony keeps an extra suit in Tim’s closet. He always comes to Tim’s prepared.
“Is the dog good? Did you take him out already?” Tony asks, turning onto his side to watch Tim putter around the room.
“Took care of him earlier,” Tim says. Tony tracks his movement around the foot of the bed and sinks farther into the mattress when he feels it dip behind him. Tim presses up against him in order to reach across and switch off the lamp. He doesn’t move away once it’s dark, settling in along Tony’s back. “Sleep now, Tony.”
With Tim close against him, skin warm against his, Tony closes his eyes and listens to Tim’s breath, matches it with his own.
They make a good team, he thinks, the two of them. Sometimes he thinks they shouldn’t, that they don’t have enough in common to be this in sync. And maybe they’re not, if Tim thinks Tony’s just messing with him. If he thinks Tony’s going to turn on him and push him away once he gets bored of winding him up.
“I don’t do it to torture you,” Tony says into the dark.
“What?” Tim sounds drowsy, the syllable not coming out so crisp.
“The touching. I don’t do it to torture you.”
Tim snorts against his shoulder. “Sure you don’t.”
“No, really. I don’t. I just…” Tony pauses, breathes deep. “You’re touchable, McGee. It’s hard for me to keep my hands to myself.”
There’s nothing but silence in response, Tim breathing carefully in and out behind him. Tony’s just starting to doze when he feels Tim’s lips brush the nape of his neck. “Okay,” Tim says. “But can you try to turn it down a little?”
Tony pats the arm Tim has wrapped around his middle. “Sure thing, Timmy,” he says before drifting off to sleep.
*
The next day, Tony’s arms and shoulders are sore. His ass is, too, and that makes sitting at his desk really uncomfortable. Soaking in a nice hot bath has a ton of appeal. Especially if he can get Tim interested.
He’s pretty sure he can, given the way Tim’s been watching him. Tim doesn’t touch him at all, but he may as well be draped over him for as much as Tony can pay attention to anything. It’s the looks he’s been giving him, the way he’s been watching him. Knowingly.
Every time Tony moves, the cuffs of his shirt brush against the marks on his wrist. When he lifts his arms, the cuffs move up, revealing the line of red. They keep creeping into sight, distracting Tony every time he sees them. They’re distracting Tim, too, if his slightly zoned behavior is any indication. It’s like having Tim wrap his hand around his wrist and claim him as his right there at work.
Tony finds he likes it, likes that people might glimpse the marks Tim’s left on him and know that he’s getting up to something even if they don’t know who with. Likes goading his coworkers with innuendo.
Tim just smirks at him over Ziva’s head, leans back almost imperceptibly when Tony insinuates himself behind Tim’s desk chair, rolls his eyes and moves away when Tony sneaks a hand a little too far up his thigh as they collect evidence, but there’s promise in his eyes when he glances in Tony’s direction.
Tony flashes him a grin and stands a little closer.
DiNozzo/McGee
NC-17
4084
Mild bondage
Prompt: For every Tony action (McInsult, inappropriate touching), there is an equal and calculated Tim action.
As usual, thanks go to
ginnith for putting up with my craziness. I also want to thank grammarwoman for the prompt. I had a lot of ideas, but it was the one with the handcuffs that stuck. I really hope you like it!“I can’t believe you still don’t have a couch, McGee,” Tony says, toeing off his shoes at the end of the bed before flopping on the covers and switching on the bedside lamp. Jethro jumps up on the bed with him, turning a couple of circles before curling up near Tony’s feet.
“I don’t really need one, Tony. It’s not like I do a lot of entertaining.” Tim sounds distracted in the other room. If Tony leans to the right over the side of the mattress, he can see Tim frowning at his typewriter, hands poised over the keys.
“Ah, but you’ve got me to entertain now,” Tony calls. “And no couch to do it on. Just this big bed. Where I am.” Tony pauses, but gets nothing from the other room. “All alone.”
Tim sighs loud enough Tony can hear it. “I need to work on this. Entertain yourself.” As Tim’s fingers hit the keys, Tony rolls his eyes and smirks. He could entertain himself, he thinks, make it sound like so much fun Timmy can’t stay focused and has to come join in.
But he’s seen the focused look Tim’s been getting lately, the small crease of frustration between his brows, and for once decides to leave well enough alone. Tony reaches for the magazine he left on the floor by the bed the night before and flips through it.
It doesn’t take long before he’s dozing off to Jethro’s heavy doggie-breaths coming from the end of the bed, the sound of Tim typing steadily away in the other room. He closes his eyes, thinking he’ll just rest for a minute, give Tim some time to get some work done before going out there and dragging him to bed.
*
When Tony opens his eyes, it’s silent, no more Tim typing away, Jethro absent. It’s probably time to walk him, Tony thinks. He moves to check his watch and finds he can’t, hands suspended above him, handcuffs around his wrists, threaded through the slates of the headboard. Tony blinks sleep rapidly away. He must have been really out of it to sleep through someone—Tim, hopefully Tim—handcuffing him to the bed.
He rattles the cuffs a little against the wood, testing them. They’re either his or Tim’s, he can’t be sure, and they’re definitely secure. Tony’s about to call out when he catches movement out of the corner of his eye. Tim’s standing in the doorway, smirking. Tony’s pulse ratchets up a notch at the sight.
“Hey, Tim,” he says, feeling somehow caught out, which is ridiculous. It’s not like he cuffed himself here. “What’s going on?”
Tim moves forward and Tony had no idea, he really didn’t, that Tim could stalk like that. Well, okay, maybe he had an inkling. He has seen the guy in interrogation before. McGee can be intimidating when he puts his mind to it. Except he’s never put his mind to it with Tony as the target. Not like this anyway.
“Oh, nothing much,” Tim says, pulling off nonchalant remarkably well as he pauses at the end of the bed. He reaches out and runs a couple of fingers up the sole of Tony’s foot and Tony resists the urge to jerk away. “I just thought maybe it was time you had a taste of your own medicine.”
“Time for me to get my comeuppance?”
Tim’s eyebrows squinch together. Tony wants to kiss the line that appears. “Comeuppance?”
“I know things!” Tony stretches his arms a little and glances up. “What I don’t know is how any of that involves handcuffing me to the bed. They’ll miss me at work, you know.”
“I’m not going to keep you here that long. It’s just time you were on the receiving end.”
Tony leers. “I thought I had been on the receiving end. Plenty of times.”
Tim blushes, a sweet flush across his cheeks. Tony’s followed that blush with his mouth before, over Tim’s jaw and along his throat, down his chest. Every pale inch of skin pinking up just for Tony.
“Not what I’m talking about, Tony.”
“You sure?” Tony asks. “Because from where I’m at, it looks like it might be. I mean, I know you’re less vanilla than you look, but—”
Anyone else and Tony would classify the sound Tim makes as a growl. It’s surprising and Tony finds his mouth snapping shut, blood zinging in his veins as Tim looms over him. “I’m talking about work, DiNozzo. About all the times you can’t keep your hands to yourself while we’re on the clock.”
As he’s talking, Tim reaches down and slowly pulls the socks off Tony’s feet. Tony never really thought of his feet as being particularly sensitive before, but now he can feel every inch of skin as it’s exposed.
“It’s distracting, Tony.” Tim’s kneeling at the end of the bed now, knees on either side of Tony’s calves. He moves forward until he’s hovering over Tony’s thighs and, boy, does Tony know distracting. Tim leans over him until his face is inches above Tony’s, his breath ghosting across Tony’s cheek. “Do you know how difficult it is to collect evidence when all you want to do is get your partner someplace private?”
Tony’s having some trouble getting his breathing under control, but if Tim doesn’t get that he’s thought the same thing, that he thinks the same thing way more often than he should and that’s why he can’t keep his hands to himself, well. They clearly have some communication to work on.
“Yes,” he starts. “Yes, I—”
Tim sits back against his thighs, looking down at him. “It’s hard, Tony. Really hard,” he says, and then his hand is there—right there—cupping Tony through his slacks and Tony sucks in a sharp breath because he’s hard, too.
“And,” Tony tries, but it comes out in a register he’s not going to admit making. Licking his lips, he closes his eyes and tries again. “And your point?” When he opens his eyes, Tim’s smiling down at him. There are teeth behind that smile; it’s hiding something devious. Or promising something devious. Tony’s not entirely sure, but it makes his blood boil either way.
“I just thought it was time I did some inappropriate touching of my own.” Tim smiles, squeezing Tony’s cock through layers of clothes before releasing him, hands moving to unfasten Tony’s belt, his pants.
“Oh, God,” Tony says, swallowing hard as Tim’s fingers brush against him through the material. It’d be embarrassing—how hard Tony is and how quickly he’s gotten there—if it weren’t for the fact that he’s completely distracted by how much he wants Tim to touch him. Not to mention the way the metal of the handcuffs bites into his skin just enough to remind him Tim’s the one with the upper hand.
An upper hand that he’s exploiting. He’s taking his time undoing Tony’s belt, lingering over the zipper as he eases it down over Tony’s erection. “Tim,” Tony groans.
Tim looks up at him, eyes glinting, before he leans forward and kisses him, surprisingly hard for a mouth that looks so soft. Tim’s deceptive like that, though. It’s something Tony’s learned. Is continuing to learn.
Tim’s mouth is hot and demanding against his and Tony’s world narrows until that’s all there is, the slide and drag of tongue and teeth. It expands again when Tim slips a hand inside his underwear, wraps his fingers around Tony’s cock. Tony bucks into it and bites down, nipping Tim’s lip in the process. They’re both groaning when Tim pulls away, lips red and inviting, begging to be touched more, kissed harder. When Tony tries to get to him, he can’t.
Straining against the handcuffs, Tony frowns at Tim. “Okay. You’ve done your inappropriate touching. You want to undo these?”
Tim chuckles under his breath and looks down at his hand around Tony, rubs a thumb across the head. Tim’s tongue darts out over his bottom lip. It distracts Tony for a moment and then the need to run his tongue along that same path reasserts itself. “C’mon, McGee,” he says. He knows he’s whining, but he can’t help it.
Leaning in, Tim presses a quick kiss to Tony’s mouth. Before Tony can react, he’s pulling away completely, releasing his hold on him. “No, Tony,” Tim says, shuffling backward on his knees. “I’m not finished.” Tim’s hands skate down Tony’s sides, pulling Tony’s shirt free from his slacks before his hands are on the buttons, carefully undoing each one so his fingers are nothing more than a brush against Tony’s exposed skin. Tony’s practically panting beneath him by the time he’s finished.
Slipping fingers beneath the waistbands of Tony’s pants and underwear, Tim works them down over Tony’s hips, careful of his erection. He slides down Tony’s legs, inching backwards until he can slip them off.
Tim gets up, letting Tony’s clothing drop to the floor, and walks into the bathroom. Tony’s trying to calm down, to relax and get his heart rate under some control. Closing his eyes, he breathes deeply once, twice, and then calls out. “Tim! Tim, you better not—” Opening his eyes, he sees Tim in the doorway, his own shirt untucked and unbuttoned, bottle of lube in his hand. He’s watching Tony with dark eyes, cheeks flushed. His lips are not nearly kiss-swollen enough.
Tony’s only half-naked, but when Tim looks at him he feels every inch of it.
The scrutiny makes him a little nervous. They’ve been doing this—variations of this—for a while, but never this exactly. Tim’s never so clearly taken charge before and Tony realizes with a jolt that he likes it. That scares him. Tim could get him all worked up and leave him to suffer for as long as he wants. That’s essentially what Tony keeps doing to him when he touches Tim too much at work.
But Tim’s always been nicer than Tony.
Tony can feel his skin heating up as Tim watches him. He shifts against the covers, grinning when Tim follows the movement of his lips. He might be the one restrained here, but he’s not entirely without power. “I thought you had some touching you wanted to do?” he asks, grin sliding easily into a smirk. “Can’t do that all the way over there.”
“Maybe I’ve done all the touching I wanted. Maybe I’ve had my fill.”
Tony raises an eyebrow and stares pointedly at Tim’s crotch, Tim’s erection evident beneath the material of his pants. “Somehow I think that’s unlikely.” When Tim doesn’t move, Tony frowns at him, growing serious. He swallows hard. “C’mon, Tim, you’re not going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“I probably should.”
“But you won’t.”
Tim stays in the doorway long enough for Tony to start thinking maybe Tim would leave him to suffer. Take his lube and his own left hand and take care of himself where Tony can hear him and be completely unable to do anything about it.
But then Tim steps forward, tossing the lube onto the bed beside Tony. “No,” he says, “I won’t. That’d be like cutting off my nose to spite my face.”
“Poor face,” Tony says.
Tim chuckles softly, hunching his shoulders as he takes off his shirt. “No kidding.” He drops the shirt to the floor and moves to his pants, sliding them over his hips, his dick, until they’re pooled at his feet.
Tony can’t look away, palms itching to touch all of that smooth, flushed skin. Not thinking, Tony reaches out only to be brought up short, the metal of the handcuffs biting into the skin on his wrists, keeping him from really indulging in naked McGee. He can’t help but groan in frustration. “Tim.”
Tim glances up at him, pulling a foot free from the leg of his slacks, and grins, looking devious. “This has gotta be torture for you, huh, Tony? Mr. Tactile pinned down.”
Tony sighs in frustration and focuses on relaxing his arms. He’s going to be sore when this is over. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“You better believe it.” Free of his pants, Tim steps around to the end of the bed and kneels between Tony’s legs. He moves forward, nudging Tony’s thighs apart with his knees and smiles as Tony shifts his hips, cock bobbing against his stomach as he widens his legs without more prompting.
“God, Tony,” Tim says, smile slipping off his face as he looks down at him. “You look so good like this.” He skims the back of his fingers up Tony’s ribs and Tony shudders. “I hardly know where to start.”
“Anywhere. You can start anywhere. Just start.”
“Impatient.” Tim smirks. “You don’t get to push me here, Tony. That’s kind of the point.”
“Nobody’s doing any pushing as far as I can tell,” Tony says and then gasps, Tim’s thumb flicking over his nipple.
“No?” Tim asks, bending forward, following the movement of his thumb with a swipe of his tongue. He looks up at Tony through his lashes and Tony shivers at the look he sees there, at the breath brushing across Tony’s wet skin. “I guess we’ll have to fix that.”
Tim descends on him then, mouthing at one nipple before licking and sucking his way across Tony’s chest to the other, repeating the process there. It’s a start, but it’s not nearly enough, not when Tim isn’t touching him anywhere else. Tony wants more.
Arching into Tim’s touch, he pants, “Tim. Tim, just…” He gasps when Tim nips at a nipple and ignores him, taking his time as he mouths his way down Tony’s chest, over his belly until finally—finally—he pulls away to hover over Tony’s cock. It takes all of Tony’s willpower not to thrust his hips.
Tim licks his lips and then looks up, meeting Tony’s eyes before leaning down again, hot breath ghosting across Tony’s dick , and licks up the crease of his thigh, pausing to nip at his hip.
Tony’s breath rushes out all at once and he realizes he’s been holding it, waiting for Tim to stop messing around and get down to business. “You’re such a tease,” he breathes.
“Takes one to know one,” Tim says, sitting back on his heels. His skin is flushed and there’s a slight sheen of sweat to it. He looks utterly touchable.
”This is unfair,” Tony growls, leaning his head back to look at the cuffs. “Really, really unfair.”
“Thought you liked a little light bondage, Tony.” Tim’s smiling at him, fond and curious. His hands are on Tony’s thighs now, thumbs rubbing soft circles against his skin. Tim’s hands are gentle but firm, soothing, and Tony relaxes beneath them. When Tim goes from circling to rubbing up and down, Tony relaxes even further.
“Usually, I’m, uh, on the other end,” he says, mouth suddenly feeling dry as Tim reaches across the bed for the lube.
“Well,” Tim says, snapping the bottle open. “We’ll have to try that sometime.”
Tim’s fingers are slick against his entrance, cool against his overheated skin. Tony gasps a little at the first touch and Tim’s mouth lifts apologetically. He’s still careful with this, working one finger in at a time, stretching Tony around him. Tony thinks it’s sweet; frustrating on occasion because of what it might mean about how Tim still sees Tony, but sweet. Right now, though…
“Tim. You’ve got me cuffed to the bed. Would you just fuck me already?”
Tim blushes and, Jesus, Tony wants to lick him, wants to get his mouth all over him. He presses his fingers deep inside Tony, to that spot that always leaves Tony gasping and arching off the bed. Pulling away, Tim leans across Tony’s body to pull open the drawer on the nightstand, coming back triumphant with a condom in hand.
“Should’ve gotten that out before, Mr. Boy Scout.”
“Shut up, Tony.” Tim’s fingers slide against the foil before he gets it open and slips the condom on himself.
Tony can’t help himself. “First he wants me to be immobile, then he wants me silent. What’s next, gags and—oh!”
Tim moves his hips backwards, almost pulling completely out. “Looks like I found another way to get you to stop talking.” Tim pushes forward again, hands pulling at Tony’s hips. He leans forward and licks into Tony’s mouth. “Now if only it could be used at work.”
Tony does his best to kiss back; it’s hard to focus with Tim’s hands hot and firm against him, Tim’s cock inside him. They kiss as Tim fucks him, messy and wet. It would be so much easier if Tony could just fit his arms around him and pull him tight against him. He can’t, so he makes due.
Tim groans and sits back. He’s got his bottom lip between his teeth and a look of concentration on his face, eyes closed.
“Hey.” Tony wraps a leg around Tim’s waist. “Hey. Tim. C’mon,” he says. “Look at me.”
He does, eyes focused and intent. Tony feels that look down to his bones. There’s a part of him that wants to turn away, wants to close his own eyes in response, but he can’t. He won’t. He’s the one who asked. This is what he wants, who he wants.
Everything he wants.
It’s not a surprise or a revelation, it just is.
Tony really hopes Tim gets the picture.
“Oh,” Tim groans, breathing heavy above him. “Oh, God, Tony. You’re—You look—Fuck.”
Tim shifts suddenly and Tony groans at the change in angle, Tim’s cock brushing over his prostate with each thrust. “Tim,” Tony gets out, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Tim, God yeah.”
Tim’s grip on his hips loosens—Tony knows he’s going to be marked up for a few days; he can’t bring himself to care—and he wraps a hand around Tony’s cock. That longed for touch is all it takes and Tony’s coming, spilling over Tim’s hand and onto his skin. He hears Tim swear, feels him thrust harder, watches him pant and moan until his hips stutter and he’s coming inside him.
He collapses on Tony and all Tony wants to do is wrap Tim up and fall asleep right where they are. But they’re sticky and kind of gross and his arms are still suspended above him.
Tony waits long enough for their breathing to slow before he rocks a little underneath him, knocking a knee against Tim’s side. “You wanna let me loose now? I think my hands are starting to fall asleep.”
His hands aren’t the only thing. Tim raises his head and blinks at him with heavy eyelids. “What—?” he starts, before the situation reasserts itself through the haze of orgasm and the call of sleep. His eyes widen and he pushes himself off of Tony. “Oh, God. Sorry, Tony.”
When he pulls out, Tony hisses a little and Tim looks apologetic for a moment before removing the condom and heading to the bathroom. He’s got a damp washcloth with him when he comes back, stopping by the side of the bed to bend over and rifle through his pockets. Tony takes the opportunity to enjoy the view and smiles when Tim holds the key up in triumph.
“I don’t think the lesson would have had the same impact had you lost the key,” Tony says as Tim sits on the edge of the bed and reaches up to undo the cuffs.
Tim grins down at him through his arms. “You’d never let me live it down.”
“You got that right.”
His arms are tired from being raised so long. Tony lowers them carefully as pinpricks run up and down his fingers. Tim sets the handcuffs on the nightstand with the keys and wraps a hand right above Tony’s wrist, pulling Tony’s arm toward him. The skin is red there and Tim’s examining it, looking for damage. He frowns at it and then down at Tony. “Sorry,” he says. “I probably should’ve gotten padded or—”
“They’re fine, McGee. Don’t worry about it.” Tim looks away and picks up the washcloth, runs it carefully over Tony’s wrists before cleaning him up. He won’t meet Tony’s gaze.
Tony rolls his eyes and fits a hand against the back of Tim’s neck, pulling him down and kissing him. It’s soft and sweet and everything it wasn’t before, but it’s still them. When he pulls back, hand still on Tim’s neck, Tim meets his eyes. “It’s good, Tim. Really good.”
Tim nods and gives him a quick peck. He stands and digs his boxers out of the pile of clothes on the floor, pulls them on. Tony forgoes the underwear and follows him into the bathroom where they brush their teeth side by side. In the bedroom, Tony pulls back the covers and climbs into bed as Tim picks up the washcloth and the clothing on the floor, throwing them all in his laundry hamper. Tony keeps an extra suit in Tim’s closet. He always comes to Tim’s prepared.
“Is the dog good? Did you take him out already?” Tony asks, turning onto his side to watch Tim putter around the room.
“Took care of him earlier,” Tim says. Tony tracks his movement around the foot of the bed and sinks farther into the mattress when he feels it dip behind him. Tim presses up against him in order to reach across and switch off the lamp. He doesn’t move away once it’s dark, settling in along Tony’s back. “Sleep now, Tony.”
With Tim close against him, skin warm against his, Tony closes his eyes and listens to Tim’s breath, matches it with his own.
They make a good team, he thinks, the two of them. Sometimes he thinks they shouldn’t, that they don’t have enough in common to be this in sync. And maybe they’re not, if Tim thinks Tony’s just messing with him. If he thinks Tony’s going to turn on him and push him away once he gets bored of winding him up.
“I don’t do it to torture you,” Tony says into the dark.
“What?” Tim sounds drowsy, the syllable not coming out so crisp.
“The touching. I don’t do it to torture you.”
Tim snorts against his shoulder. “Sure you don’t.”
“No, really. I don’t. I just…” Tony pauses, breathes deep. “You’re touchable, McGee. It’s hard for me to keep my hands to myself.”
There’s nothing but silence in response, Tim breathing carefully in and out behind him. Tony’s just starting to doze when he feels Tim’s lips brush the nape of his neck. “Okay,” Tim says. “But can you try to turn it down a little?”
Tony pats the arm Tim has wrapped around his middle. “Sure thing, Timmy,” he says before drifting off to sleep.
*
The next day, Tony’s arms and shoulders are sore. His ass is, too, and that makes sitting at his desk really uncomfortable. Soaking in a nice hot bath has a ton of appeal. Especially if he can get Tim interested.
He’s pretty sure he can, given the way Tim’s been watching him. Tim doesn’t touch him at all, but he may as well be draped over him for as much as Tony can pay attention to anything. It’s the looks he’s been giving him, the way he’s been watching him. Knowingly.
Every time Tony moves, the cuffs of his shirt brush against the marks on his wrist. When he lifts his arms, the cuffs move up, revealing the line of red. They keep creeping into sight, distracting Tony every time he sees them. They’re distracting Tim, too, if his slightly zoned behavior is any indication. It’s like having Tim wrap his hand around his wrist and claim him as his right there at work.
Tony finds he likes it, likes that people might glimpse the marks Tim’s left on him and know that he’s getting up to something even if they don’t know who with. Likes goading his coworkers with innuendo.
Tim just smirks at him over Ziva’s head, leans back almost imperceptibly when Tony insinuates himself behind Tim’s desk chair, rolls his eyes and moves away when Tony sneaks a hand a little too far up his thigh as they collect evidence, but there’s promise in his eyes when he glances in Tony’s direction.
Tony flashes him a grin and stands a little closer.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-08 05:31 am (UTC)Also loved Tony's concern about Jethro -- shows just how much he's willing to stay, and how much McGee is home for him. This fic was so awesome.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-08 07:31 am (UTC)♥
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-08 11:04 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-08 11:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 01:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 02:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 03:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 04:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 04:40 am (UTC)Also, the sex was seriously hot with just a sprinkle of sugar at the end. Great use of bondage :-D
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 07:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 08:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 01:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 08:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-09 09:56 pm (UTC)Also, aww, Tony, Tim and Jethro are home for you, aren't they? ♥
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-10 09:15 pm (UTC)I mean, take-charge McGee is the essence of *MROWR*. And Tony, realizing so many things while he's getting his just desserts...How can porn be so sweet and so hot? From blushes to growls, hesitations to confidence, actions and next-day consequences: it fits, it fits so well with them. I can totally see Tony misbehaving in the future, just to prompt this reaction again from Tim.
You have made me so happy with this - thank you!
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2009-11-20 10:47 pm (UTC)The monster in my stomach that feeds on McNozzo is verry happy right now.
Dominant!McGee is seriously the hottest thing I've ever come across in this fandom. <3 You executed it brilliantly, and still made his character canon by adding that little bit of insecurity and unsureness in there. Well done :)
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-31 07:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From: