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annundrielBecause for me it's not the porn battle unless I get some DiNozzo/McGee in there.
Making the Best of It. DiNozzo/McGee. R. 1379 words. Prompt: closet.
Making the Best of It
“I told you not to let the door close, Tony,” McGee grouses under the stark fluorescent light.
“How was I supposed to know it would lock?”
“Because I said, ‘Tony, don’t let the door close. The lock’s broken’?”
Tony rolls his eyes and ignores him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, McCranky. Someone will be by eventually to let us out.”
McGee pouts and tries to cross his arms. The pouting is successful. The arm crossing? Not so much. The closet they’re trapped in isn’t particularly large and they’re both…healthy-sized men. They’re pressed pretty close together. When McGee huffs a sigh of annoyance, Tony can feel it.
Tony shifts and tries to take up as much room as possible, just to see McGee’s lower lip jut out more. There’s something about a pouting McGee that Tony enjoys, he just can’t quite put his finger on what…
“Stop it,” McGee says, trying to take a step back only to find himself against a set of office supply-laden shelves.
Tony grins and follows him, wriggles against McGee’s hip. “What’s the matter, Probie, don’t like tight spaces? Thought it was only heights you were afraid of.”
“I said stop it, Tony,” McGee says, and that almost qualified as a growl. Who knew McGeek had it in him?
Shifting again, Tony opens his mouth to say…to say…He pauses, mouth open, and shifts again. Looking down, he sees…
Oh. Well. That’s…unexpected.
Tony looks back up at McGee, who’s staring very hard at the opposite set of shelves. No longer pouting, he’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, his cheeks turning pink.
Huh, Tony thinks. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. In fact, Tony finds he’s actually a little up for it himself. Which, well, double huh.
“Really, McGee?” he says, stuck in his personal space. “I’m flattered.”
McGee blushes harder; they’re pressed so closely, Tony can almost feel the extra heat coming off of him. He squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body tense. “Drop it, Tony. Please.”
“No, really,” Tony says, voice dropping low. “I’m flattered.”
Tony’s not sure if it’s the seriousness of his tone or the way he presses his own hips against McGee’s, but McGee’s eyes pop open. There’s confusion there, and shock, but Tony’s mostly distracted by the way McGee’s eyes have gone dark, barely the green he’s so used to seeing.
McGee licks his lips, the movement drawing Tony’s eyes. McGee’s mouth is slick and open, pink and full where he’s been biting his lip
“Really?” Tim asks.
Tony kisses him, and suddenly his fascination with McGee’s—Tim’s—pout makes a lot more sense as Tony chases any remnant of it off his face, sucking on Tim’s bottom lip like he hasn’t known he’s been thinking about since, oh, forever.
Tim groans against him, and Tony feels a little thrill down his spine at the sound. Tim’s hands clutch at Tony’s arms as Tony’s find his hips, pulling Tim to him until what space was left between them is gone.
Tim is hard in all the right places, soft in others. Tony knows he’s been trying to be more health-conscious lately—and Tim’s been looking even better than usual because of it—but Tony’s glad some of that softness is still there. He moves from Tim’s mouth to his jaw, enjoys the roundness of it, the hint of stubble as he kisses Tim’s neck. His hands move to undo Tim’s belt.
Tim’s breath comes in pants against Tony’s ear, hands tightening. “Tony,” he says. “Tony. We shouldn’t—”
Tony pulls away, hands stilling on Tim’s zipper. “Are you honestly telling me we should stop?”
Tim blinks at him, licks his lips. “Uhh. No?”
“Is that a question?”
“No. I mean someone could walk in.”
“Yeah,” Tony says, grinning. He kisses him quickly, hands resuming their work, pulling Tim’s zipper down over his erection. “Hopefully it won’t be Gibbs.”
Tim groans against him. Tony’s not entirely sure if it’s because of the way he’s got his hand wrapped around Tim’s cock or because he mentioned—
“Please don’t ever mention Gibbs when you’re doing that,” Tim pants.
“What?” Tony asks, twisting his wrist. “This?”
“Nnngh.” Tim’s mouth falls open, an invitation that Tony takes, kissing Tim until they’re both breathless before Tony pulls away and drops to his knees.
It’s a little cramped and his knees aren’t going to be happy with him in a short amount of time, but it’s all worth it for the bright, wide-eyed look Tim is giving him.
“Tony, you don’t have to—”
How quickly Tim goes from sentences to incoherent noises is gratifying.
Tim is hard against his tongue, skin soft and salty, and Tony loves it, all of it; the way Tim’s cock fits in his mouth, feels against his lips; the way his hips twitch with the need to move, Tim so obviously holding himself back; the sounds Tim makes, the little hitch in his breath when he moans, “Tony,” as Tony sucks him down.
It’s going to make working with Tim really hard.
Heh, Tony thinks, something’s definitely going to be hard.
Somehow, Tony gets his belt undone, his pants open enough for him to slip his hand inside and wrap around his own cock. Tony hums around Tim as he jerks himself.
Suddenly Tim’s hand is right there, at Tony’s head, his cheek and he’s saying something about coming and Tony ignores him because now that he knows he wants this? He wants this.
Wrapping his free hand around the base of Tim’s cock, Tony sucks harder until Tim’s panting Tony’s name and coming, hot against his tongue.
He swallows what he can, losing some when he has to pull away, unable to keep it up when his own orgasm hits him like a freight train.
When he’s coherent again, Tony finds himself with his forehead pressed against Tim’s hip, Tim’s cock going soft beside him. Tony leans back and looks up to find Tim watching him, face bright red. Probably as much from embarrassment as from anything else. Tony’s okay with that; Tim blushes so prettily. Tony really wants to find out if it spreads further than his face.
Before he can say anything, Tim clears his throat and looks away, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You carry a handkerchief?”
Tim shrugs and hands it to him before tucking himself back into his pants. “Just in case.”
“Just in case of what?” Tony asks, wiping off his hands before adjusting himself and fastening his pants. “Just in case you get locked in a closet with your partner and have to dispose of the evidence?”
“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, Tony.” Tim frowns at him, hand making an aborted movement toward Tony’s face.
“What?”
“You, uh. You missed a spot.” The color that was starting to wane on Tim’s face increases briefly.
“You get it,” Tony says, holding the hanky out to him.
Tim looks at it for a moment and then at Tony. When he reaches out, he wraps a hand around Tony’s arm instead, pulling him to his feet. Face to face, Tim leans in and runs his tongue across Tony’s chin, up his cheek. Tony stands stock-still. He thinks he’s probably blushing a little this time.
Pulling back, Tim smirks at whatever he sees on Tony’s face before leaning in and kissing him.
Yeah, getting anything done around McGee is going to be really difficult now.
The door handle jiggles behind them and they jump apart, “Tony? McGee?” Ziva’s head pops in. “There you are.” She looks suspiciously at both of them before swinging the door open all the way. “Gibbs is looking for you,” she says, turning and walking away.
“Well,” Tim says, glancing at Tony before following her. “Better Ziva than Gibbs.”
Tony’s not completely sure about that. Ziva knows things.
“Wait,” he calls, and Tim turns around. He looks a little unsure of himself. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Tim glances at the handkerchief in Tony’s hand and smirks. Tony’s cock twitches and, yes, he is screwed.
“You can return it to me later,” Tim says, and then he turns around and walks away.
Tony grins after him. He’s okay with being screwed, he really is.
Making the Best of It. DiNozzo/McGee. R. 1379 words. Prompt: closet.
Making the Best of It
“I told you not to let the door close, Tony,” McGee grouses under the stark fluorescent light.
“How was I supposed to know it would lock?”
“Because I said, ‘Tony, don’t let the door close. The lock’s broken’?”
Tony rolls his eyes and ignores him. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, McCranky. Someone will be by eventually to let us out.”
McGee pouts and tries to cross his arms. The pouting is successful. The arm crossing? Not so much. The closet they’re trapped in isn’t particularly large and they’re both…healthy-sized men. They’re pressed pretty close together. When McGee huffs a sigh of annoyance, Tony can feel it.
Tony shifts and tries to take up as much room as possible, just to see McGee’s lower lip jut out more. There’s something about a pouting McGee that Tony enjoys, he just can’t quite put his finger on what…
“Stop it,” McGee says, trying to take a step back only to find himself against a set of office supply-laden shelves.
Tony grins and follows him, wriggles against McGee’s hip. “What’s the matter, Probie, don’t like tight spaces? Thought it was only heights you were afraid of.”
“I said stop it, Tony,” McGee says, and that almost qualified as a growl. Who knew McGeek had it in him?
Shifting again, Tony opens his mouth to say…to say…He pauses, mouth open, and shifts again. Looking down, he sees…
Oh. Well. That’s…unexpected.
Tony looks back up at McGee, who’s staring very hard at the opposite set of shelves. No longer pouting, he’s got his bottom lip between his teeth, his cheeks turning pink.
Huh, Tony thinks. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. In fact, Tony finds he’s actually a little up for it himself. Which, well, double huh.
“Really, McGee?” he says, stuck in his personal space. “I’m flattered.”
McGee blushes harder; they’re pressed so closely, Tony can almost feel the extra heat coming off of him. He squeezes his eyes shut, his whole body tense. “Drop it, Tony. Please.”
“No, really,” Tony says, voice dropping low. “I’m flattered.”
Tony’s not sure if it’s the seriousness of his tone or the way he presses his own hips against McGee’s, but McGee’s eyes pop open. There’s confusion there, and shock, but Tony’s mostly distracted by the way McGee’s eyes have gone dark, barely the green he’s so used to seeing.
McGee licks his lips, the movement drawing Tony’s eyes. McGee’s mouth is slick and open, pink and full where he’s been biting his lip
“Really?” Tim asks.
Tony kisses him, and suddenly his fascination with McGee’s—Tim’s—pout makes a lot more sense as Tony chases any remnant of it off his face, sucking on Tim’s bottom lip like he hasn’t known he’s been thinking about since, oh, forever.
Tim groans against him, and Tony feels a little thrill down his spine at the sound. Tim’s hands clutch at Tony’s arms as Tony’s find his hips, pulling Tim to him until what space was left between them is gone.
Tim is hard in all the right places, soft in others. Tony knows he’s been trying to be more health-conscious lately—and Tim’s been looking even better than usual because of it—but Tony’s glad some of that softness is still there. He moves from Tim’s mouth to his jaw, enjoys the roundness of it, the hint of stubble as he kisses Tim’s neck. His hands move to undo Tim’s belt.
Tim’s breath comes in pants against Tony’s ear, hands tightening. “Tony,” he says. “Tony. We shouldn’t—”
Tony pulls away, hands stilling on Tim’s zipper. “Are you honestly telling me we should stop?”
Tim blinks at him, licks his lips. “Uhh. No?”
“Is that a question?”
“No. I mean someone could walk in.”
“Yeah,” Tony says, grinning. He kisses him quickly, hands resuming their work, pulling Tim’s zipper down over his erection. “Hopefully it won’t be Gibbs.”
Tim groans against him. Tony’s not entirely sure if it’s because of the way he’s got his hand wrapped around Tim’s cock or because he mentioned—
“Please don’t ever mention Gibbs when you’re doing that,” Tim pants.
“What?” Tony asks, twisting his wrist. “This?”
“Nnngh.” Tim’s mouth falls open, an invitation that Tony takes, kissing Tim until they’re both breathless before Tony pulls away and drops to his knees.
It’s a little cramped and his knees aren’t going to be happy with him in a short amount of time, but it’s all worth it for the bright, wide-eyed look Tim is giving him.
“Tony, you don’t have to—”
How quickly Tim goes from sentences to incoherent noises is gratifying.
Tim is hard against his tongue, skin soft and salty, and Tony loves it, all of it; the way Tim’s cock fits in his mouth, feels against his lips; the way his hips twitch with the need to move, Tim so obviously holding himself back; the sounds Tim makes, the little hitch in his breath when he moans, “Tony,” as Tony sucks him down.
It’s going to make working with Tim really hard.
Heh, Tony thinks, something’s definitely going to be hard.
Somehow, Tony gets his belt undone, his pants open enough for him to slip his hand inside and wrap around his own cock. Tony hums around Tim as he jerks himself.
Suddenly Tim’s hand is right there, at Tony’s head, his cheek and he’s saying something about coming and Tony ignores him because now that he knows he wants this? He wants this.
Wrapping his free hand around the base of Tim’s cock, Tony sucks harder until Tim’s panting Tony’s name and coming, hot against his tongue.
He swallows what he can, losing some when he has to pull away, unable to keep it up when his own orgasm hits him like a freight train.
When he’s coherent again, Tony finds himself with his forehead pressed against Tim’s hip, Tim’s cock going soft beside him. Tony leans back and looks up to find Tim watching him, face bright red. Probably as much from embarrassment as from anything else. Tony’s okay with that; Tim blushes so prettily. Tony really wants to find out if it spreads further than his face.
Before he can say anything, Tim clears his throat and looks away, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“You carry a handkerchief?”
Tim shrugs and hands it to him before tucking himself back into his pants. “Just in case.”
“Just in case of what?” Tony asks, wiping off his hands before adjusting himself and fastening his pants. “Just in case you get locked in a closet with your partner and have to dispose of the evidence?”
“It doesn’t hurt to be prepared, Tony.” Tim frowns at him, hand making an aborted movement toward Tony’s face.
“What?”
“You, uh. You missed a spot.” The color that was starting to wane on Tim’s face increases briefly.
“You get it,” Tony says, holding the hanky out to him.
Tim looks at it for a moment and then at Tony. When he reaches out, he wraps a hand around Tony’s arm instead, pulling him to his feet. Face to face, Tim leans in and runs his tongue across Tony’s chin, up his cheek. Tony stands stock-still. He thinks he’s probably blushing a little this time.
Pulling back, Tim smirks at whatever he sees on Tony’s face before leaning in and kissing him.
Yeah, getting anything done around McGee is going to be really difficult now.
The door handle jiggles behind them and they jump apart, “Tony? McGee?” Ziva’s head pops in. “There you are.” She looks suspiciously at both of them before swinging the door open all the way. “Gibbs is looking for you,” she says, turning and walking away.
“Well,” Tim says, glancing at Tony before following her. “Better Ziva than Gibbs.”
Tony’s not completely sure about that. Ziva knows things.
“Wait,” he calls, and Tim turns around. He looks a little unsure of himself. “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Tim glances at the handkerchief in Tony’s hand and smirks. Tony’s cock twitches and, yes, he is screwed.
“You can return it to me later,” Tim says, and then he turns around and walks away.
Tony grins after him. He’s okay with being screwed, he really is.
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(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-23 06:00 pm (UTC)I just love how in character they both are. And of course, Ziva knows. She's good like that.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-06-24 09:04 pm (UTC)