Fic: "I Do" Tony/Tim, Adult
Title: I Do
Pairing: T2
Rating: Adult
Length: ~7200
Summary: Just an evening in, Ziva and Abby are over, wine is had, and conversations occur.
Warnings: Not really. Basically a follow-up to "I Promise", my first NCIS fic, set shortly after Aliyah. Can't think of anything particularly spoilery, really. (See Author's note). Some humor, sap, sex, and mild drama herein.
Author's Notes: Well, this is the, I believe, 5th NCIS fic started, but only the 2nd finished. For me, that's a HUGE success. Yes, this is a follow up to my first story I Promise , so you might want to read it first. IT was set, like I mention above, shortly after Aliyah. THIS is set, well, nowish? A couple of random refs to recent happenings, but nothing specific, so somewhat nebulous. (If anyone who might read this feels I should change this warning, feel free to let me know and I will do so :) Oh, yeah, and if you have any comments, feel free to leave those. Also, NOT BETA-ED!
Author's note, the sequel: I pretty much suck at titles. So, for this one and it's predecessor, I just took the last lines. Just felt I should warn you ;)
Disclaimer: They all belong to me, as does the Golden Gate Bridge, a 2010 Porsche Boxter, and my dream house on the beach in Santa Cruz, CA. HELLO, NOT MINE.
I Do
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Oh, I’m totally serious.”
“Now? Do you really have to prove a point now?”
“Yes, I do. Stop moving.”
Groaning, McGee forced himself to still his movements. He glared down at the man whose lap he was currently sitting in, and whose dick was currently buried inside of him, formulating ways to get back at Tony for this later.
“Come on, Timmy, loosen up.” Tony grinned up at his partner, reaching up to drag his tongue up the other man’s neck, nosing the pulse point, running his hands along his back. “You’re the one that challenged my lasting power. There are things that come with age, and patience is one of them.”
Tim snorted at that. “I’m plenty loose, thanks to you. And the only thing that’s come with your hastening years is unfounded confidence in your ability to resist me,” he shot back, joining the game with as much gusto as he could while in his current position. “You’ve never been known for your endurance under these circumstances, DiNozzo, according your own testimony.”
“Stop using big words to distract me.”
“Big words? Testimony or circumstances? Or never? You’re a college grad, you should be able to-unnhh.”
Tony smiled again, and then moved his finger away from where it had been pushing against Tim’s stretched entrance. “You know you love me.”
Nodding slowly, the younger man replied, “Yeah, but sometimes I wonder why.” He dropped his head the few inches necessary, and took Tony’s mouth in a kiss, pushing one hand down his back, then twisting and reaching the other more dexterous one behind himself to fondle and pull at Tony’s balls. Swallowing the answering groan, Tim pulled back and smirked. “Did you know that the word ‘testimony’ has roots in the term ‘testes,” he whispered playfully in Tony’s ear.
Gurgling, Tony whimpered, “How do you know these things? And why are you so damn flexible?”
Ignoring the questions, Tim continued. “Apparently, long before there were bibles to swear on, men were made to grab their testicles with their left hand,” he continued, adding an extra squeeze with the same hand for good measure, “and raise their right to make an oath.”
From where he’d buried his face in Tim’s neck, Tony grunted, “God, it’s like I’m having sex with Ducky.”
“In fact, in Roman times, a man’s testicles,” and another squeeze, “were considered sacred, and only men with two of them could testify in court.”
McGee was cut off when Tony finally got involved again, slipping a hand between them to do some of his own pulling and fondling, causing both men to groan deeply, and McGee to lose his train of thought. “There must be something in that huge brain of yours about pillars and their phallic importance,” Tony questioned mischievously, running his thumb over the slit on the end of Tim’s dick.
“Uhh, Tony, you keep doing that, you know you’re going to lose,” McGee countered, trying to sound more resilient than he felt, gasping when a particularly long pull at his cock made him tighten around the other man. “Oh, god, you’re such a pain in the ass,” he said, bringing both hands together behind Tony’s neck.
“Do you mean that literally, or figuratively?” inquired the older man, a tone in his voice for which McGee could easily picture the accompanying grin. “Either way, one of my favorite things to be, a pain in your ass,” and he nibbled and licked the collar bone beneath his lips.
Using the grip he had on DiNozzo, Tim pulled his head back, hunching to drag his tongue across Tony’s jaw and over to his ear, a move he knew drove the other man crazy, and breathed wetly into the shell. “All I have to do to win this is squeeze you’re cock, start humming the Magnum theme-“
“That doesn’t always work.”
“-And you’re done for.”
“And if you clench, you lose. That counts as ‘moving willingly.’”
“What, that’s against the rules? Since when?”
“Since now. Gotta set’em at some point.”
Tim glared down at the man who was smirking up at him, and replied, “Naturally.” They stared at each other, silently daring the other to move first. McGee began wonder if letting Tony win would be worth it to just come already.
“You know you’re going to lose, Probilicious, so just give it up,” Tony taunted.
He could feel the strain on his body to move, to pull himself up then push himself down on the flesh inside of him and be done with it. He could feel a drop of sweat running down his spine and Tony’s fingers just barely caressing his cock, which just got harder with every heartbeat. His own hands were still grasping the back of Tony’s head, buried in the thick hair and scratching lightly at the scalp.
It was as if Tony was trying to play out some Spaghetti Western shoot out, but with sex instead of six-shooters and rifles.
Watching as the other man continued to breathe slowly through his mouth at an almost meditative rate, Tim closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to Tony’s. “I hate you,” he muttered, and pulled Tony’s mouth to his. He’d moved first, but within seconds they were both moving, working together to get to the finish line.
A few minutes later, (though more than either would have thought), Tony lay flat on his back, breathing in lungfuls of air and stoking both hands up and down Tim’s sides. For his part, McGee was attempting to hold himself up with his arms, his hands buried in the hair of Tony’s chest. He was breathing hard also, through his nose and out his mouth in an effort to calm his body down. At least sex with Anthony DiNozzo was never boring.
When McGee finally opened his eyes again and saw the look in Tony’s own, he smiled tenderly, dropping himself down slowly to lay on him. Sighing as the movement caused Tony’s dick to pull out, he kissed him gently but deep. Long arms wrapped around his back, and a hand ran up into his hair; he settled in for a few minutes of simply kissing and enjoying the lingering pleasure. Time caught up with them, finally, and they simultaneously looked over to the alarm clock.
“Shower.”
“Shower,” McGee parroted, and he slowly rolled onto the bed and then off of it onto his feet. Putting out a hand he helped Tony to his own feet, pulling him close and whispering in his ear, “You win.”
“Oh yes I did, and I enjoyed the hell out of my prize.”
**********
Nearly twenty minutes later found them still in the shower, kissing leisurely under the spray after washing off the remains of their lovemaking. So distracted by what they were doing with their mouths they didn’t hear the holler from the other room. But the knock then snick of the bathroom door opening brought them both to a halt.
Abby’s words had them both rolling their eyes in exasperation. “Stop whatever it is you’re doing in there and come be good little hosts.”
Once the door had been pulled closed again, the two men looked at each other, then down between both their bodies. “Up for another little competition, McGee?”
Tim simply sighed, leaned in and kissed Tony. The girls could wait a few more minutes.
**********
“Oh my god Ziva,” was all Tony appeared able to say. He was sprawled back into the corner of the couch in the living room, hand resting on his full stomach. “I don’t think I’m going to eat again until, well, probably a few hours.” He sighed contentedly then groaned as McGee thumped his belly as he sat next to him.
“One of these days you’re going to learn when to stop.” Smiling as the other man glared, Tim continued. “Of course you wouldn’t be you at that point.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it,” Ziva said as she joined the men in the living room, carrying two glasses of white wine and handing one to McGee. “Though it was hardly a complex meal. Chicken, penne, pesto and spinach. Even you could have made it Tony.”
Abby entered the room, holding two more glasses of wine, this time red. “Ziva, don’t put ideas in his head. Tony can order food. It is a well known fact he's not allowed to cook anything more complicated than Ramen.”
“And that I’ve had to rescue from him,” added McGee, ducking the lazy hand that tried to slap the back of his head. “Hey, I’m not much better, but at least I have yet to actually burn a pot because I forgot I was boiling water.”
Tony pushed himself to a more upright position and took the glass Abby was holding out for him. “Once, I did that once. You’re the science geek that put foil in the microwave.”
“You did not,” Abby said, turning wide eyes at the younger man.
“Hey, I was exhausted from having followed Gibbs around for days. And I remembered before anything happened.” He raised his hands in defense, shaking his head. “Trust me, we could carry this conversation on forever if you want. What about when you were trying to make Caf-Pows in your lab?”
“The power was out, I was going through withdrawals, and there was no possibility of fire.”
“Good point,” he conceded. “Can we move on now?”
“Yes, let us discuss something more interesting than which one of you is more likely to cause an explosion,” Ziva declared, sipping her wine and curling into the lone armchair of the room, an overstuffed monstrosity in black leather, well worn from years of belonging solely to Tony.
Abby had plopped onto the rug in front of the couch, not far from McGee’s outstretched legs. “I like the new place. You guys lucked out.”
McGee nodded. “I didn’t think I’d find a place that would take Jethro AND Tony,” he joked, ignoring the frown the older man turned on him.
“You know, the way you talk about me, one might think you didn’t like me,” Tony muttered, drinking deep from his glass.
Turning his head, Tim leaned forward and said, “I like you, trust me,” then pecked him on the lips.
“Where is my other favorite Jethro, by the way?” inquired Abby.
“Spending the weekend with Sarah,” Tony answered. “Roommate went home for the weekend, she’s sick, and she didn’t want to be alone. I took him over last night in exchange for McGee fixing my laptop.”
“Okay, first, what did you do to your computer this time,” Abby began, pausing to take a drink.
“And why is McGee wanting something in exchange for fixing one,” Ziva finished for her.
“Since it’s the third time this month he managed to open an email with malware. I’m thinking of cutting his computer privileges until he learns to listen to me and ignore spam.” Tim pushed himself to his feet, consuming the last of his wine. “More? Anybody?”
“Just bring the bottles,” Tony ordered.
“So, you still have not learned to use your email properly. How did you remove the virus from McGee’s computer at the office?” Ziva pinned Tony with a glare just as Tim re-entered the living room, and he chuckled.
“Yeah, Tony, how did you do that?” he asked, knowing the answer but enjoying the squirming the other man was doing.
“I did it,” Abby simply answered, holding her empty glass aloft for McGee to refill for her. “Tony wanted to play a joke, I had nothing better to do, and I enjoy reminding everybody that I too have skills when it comes to computers.”
Ziva shook her head, reaching for the bottle of white wine that had been set on the small coffee table. “And when did you learn of this scheme, McGee?”
“It was one of my Christmas presents,” was the answer from Tim, who was again settled next to the other man on the couch. They were closer now, Tim leaning back against Tony’s side, Tony’s arm resting across Tim’s front.
Abby snorted into her glass, choking slightly on her wine. “Wait, you were together then?” she asked, again turning wide, curious eyes to both of them.
“Yup,” Tony answered.
“I thought it was New Years!” Abby returned, voice full of shock and confusion.
McGee shook his head. “No, that’s just the first time you saw us kiss; we had promised we weren’t going to do anything, but Tony doesn’t know how to stick to his word,” he said, nudging the man in question. "Tony decided to try and play it off like it was the first time, why I don't know." Waiting for the pieces to fall into place in Abby’s head, he wasn’t really that surprised when Ziva seemed to figure it out first.
“You’ve been…close…for awhile,” she said, wine glass resting on one of her raised knees.
He looked at her closely, feeling the slight tightening in the arm Tony had wrapped around his chest. Tony’s body move slightly, and guessed he was nodding.
From her place on the floor, Abby was watching the silent exchange, and McGee could see her holding her reaction back. “Go ahead, Abs, do your thing.”
She turned her black-rimmed green eyes to him, then up to Tony, then back to Tim, and the smile that blossomed across her face confirmed his suspicions, which meant he and Tony had just confirmed hers. “I knew it. I knew it! I totally knew you guys had been doing the dirty longer than a couple of months.”
Tony snorted. “Oh, you don’t know how dirty,” he mumbled, squeezing him again when Tim elbowed him lightly.
“When did it start? I could guess, but I’d rather you just told me.”
Craning his neck to look at the other man, Tim smiled, then turned back and said, “Right before Gibbs came back from his ‘retirement’.”
“Hiatus,” he heard mumbled behind him, and he shot a quick, ‘Really? Still bitter?’ look over this shoulder.
“Really?” Abby asked, ignoring Tony’s addition to the conversation. “That’s like a year earlier than I would have guessed.”
McGee stole a look at Ziva as she reached forward and filled her glass again. When she inclined the bottle towards him, he disengaged himself from Tony’s hold and reached for the offered bottle, emptying it into his own glass. He then reached for the bottle of red wine next to Abby, and turned to fill Tony’s glass.
“Well, it was about a year later that anything else happened, for obvious reasons,” Tony replied, thanking McGee silently with a smile for topping him off. “Happened a couple more times, then, well, things went to shit, again.”
“Jeanne,” Ziva stated, rejoining the conversation.
Tim nodded, and settled back against the cushion, keeping a small amount of space between him and the other man. “He freaked out for a little while.”
“Being accused of murder by someone you loved tends to screw with your head,” Tony added quietly.
“Then Iraq, then Director Shepard, next he’s at sea, and if I keep talking about him like he isn’t here, I’m going to pay for it,” Tim finished, having watched Tony’s eyes darken with every word. “Hey, they asked.”
“Shut up, Probie,” was the reply, and the older man took a drink.
“Should we change the subject?” Ziva asked.
“No! Or, let’s just skip to how you actually became a couple, or whatever. Well, except, I think that concerns last summer, and that’s a time none of us actually want to talk about. But, wait, it didn’t start then?” Abby turned her focus once again fully on the men, and Tim sighed.
“Okay, I’m just going to get us up to date,” Tony said, sitting up a little straighter and emptying his glass. “We slept together about a month after Tel Aviv, then off and on throughout the summer-“
“More on,” interjected Tim.
“-then kind of stopped for a few months. Then this one,” he continued, after motioning to McGee with a jerk of his head, “met the redhead to beat all redheads, I tried to help him through it, having been in a similar situation, we got drunk, and we ended up throwing a metaphorical middle finger at Rule #12.”
Both women seemed to be absorbing all of that, and McGee looked to his left, catching the small smile on Tony’s face.
“Wow, that’s so cool,” Abby said quietly, adoringly. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need another drink.” Polishing off the wine still in her glass, she pushed herself to her feet and clomped off to the kitchen.
“You hid the good stuff, right?” Tony asked as he stood to follow Abby.
McGee smiled at him, and then turned back to Ziva. She still sat curled up in Tony’s old chair, wine glass now between two fingers, brown eyes on his face. “I am happy for you, McGee. Tim. You seem good together.”
“Thank you, Ziva. And I’m just glad you’re here to say that,” he answered, hoping to convey more than just his joy in having her present.
She nodded, smiling, and the moment was over when Abby clomped back into the room. “Ha ha, I found the good stuff,” she declared proudly, and began filling glasses.
Tony shrugged at the look McGee sent him. “She never seems to lose her skill for finding the unfindable.”
“Pfft, Tony, it was behind a bunch of old beer steins. I’m not stupid. You should try hiding things somewhere I wouldn’t look, like…well…” she trailed off.
“Exactly. There is no place you won’t look,” Tony said in response.
Abby gestured with both hands, nearly splashing some of the red wine down her front. “Then don’t bother trying to hide anything. Duh.”
**********
It was nearly an hour later when McGee checked the time on the DVD player. 10:35 p.m. The second bottles of both the red and white wine that Abby had retrieved with the help of Tony were empty, the thirds of each having given up a glass to each of their respective drinkers.
Tony was lying down, his head in Tim’s lap, and his feet in Abby’s. Abby had decided she was done with the floor, and had simply lifted her friend’s legs and sat down, then proceeded to try and tickle him. After the third near loss of her wine glass, McGee had threatened to cut her off if she didn’t stop. Tony had nixed her suggestion of drinking out of the beer steins. “They’re for beer, hello.”
“Something just occurred to me. I am the only one in the room who has not had sex with McGee.” Ziva was now lounging sideways in what Tim now considered her chair, her legs hanging over one armrest, her head lying on the other. She was bleary eyed but smiling, watching the aforementioned man.
Abby snickered, saying, “Well, I believe I can speak for both Tony and I and say you definitely missed out.”
“Yeah, I actually pity you, Zi-vah. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard the noises Timmy makes when-“ Tony was cut off by the hand that covered his mouth.
“That’s enough, DiNozzo.”
Tony winked at him, licking his palm playfully.
“Oh, yeah, I’d almost forgotten about those noises! They’re so cute while being way hot. Just like him, actually,” she said, turning a cheeky grin McGee’s way.
Ziva giggled from where she was sprawled. “Noises?”
“Don’t even think about it, Tony, Abby. I have plenty of fodder of my own.”
McGee’s ex-sorta girlfriend and his present very much boyfriend smiled at each other, then commenced making low grumbling noises, Abby adding a few squeaks and high-pitched moans, Tony sighing and almost whistling.
At this point Ziva was laughing out right, and McGee was struggling somewhat drunkenly with DiNozzo, who simply continued making noises, Abby having lost her own struggle not to laugh. “Did you know Tony practically meows when I’m performing oral sex, and that Abby growls at really strange times?”
The room froze, the men’s hands locked in battle above Tony’s face. The younger man simply raised an eyebrow to the older, as if challenging him to deny his words. “Ziva claims to be a screamer,” Tony offered.
“Oh, I am a screamer,” she confirmed, smiling innocently at the three on the couch.
“And can you not say ‘blow job’ like a normal man?” Tony joked.
“Would you call what I do to you simply a ‘blow job’, Tony?”
“Wow,” Abby breathed from somewhere to his right.
After another quiet, strange moment, McGee said, “Okay, no more sex talk.”
Abby snorted, and Tim was fairly certain the laughter that followed could be heard by the neighbors until it ended a few minutes later.
**********
The last of the wine bottles were dropped in the recycling bin, clanking against each other loudly.
“More wine?” Tony asked, grabbing his glass and pouring the last dregs into his mouth.
“No, no more wine, Tony. I think we will all sleep very well tonight, thank you.” Tim plucked the glass out of the other man’s hand and set it carefully into the dishwasher. Once the machine was set to do its work, he guided him back out to the living room, where Abby had taken over more than half of the couch and Ziva was apparently counting something out on her hands.
“Whatchya doin’, Ziva?” Tony asked, flopping down on the floor, ducking as Tim stepped over him to sit on what was left of the couch.
Squinting, the Israeli turned her gaze to him, and McGee nearly choked at the look on her face. “I do not remember,” was the answer, and her hands dropped to her waist. “I do not think I will be driving anywhere tonight.”
“Didn’t think you would be.”
“Don’t think I will be either, McGee. Are you sure we can’t have more wine?” Abby’s head was lolling, the only word for it, on the back of the couch, and she rolled it to look at him, smiling lazily. “We aren’t going anywhere, and it’s not even midnight!”
“Abby, it’s actually half past midnight.”
“That’s early!” she exclaimed, a petulant look on her face.
“No, no more. And don’t even think of ganging up on me, DiNozzo. You never win in these battles, so don’t try it.” He reached out and buried his hand in Tony’s hair, pulling gently to angle the man’s head towards him. Receiving a smile in return, he bent over and kissed him, licking and sucking gently on Tony’s bottom lip.
He felt the other man lean up into the kiss, opening his mouth to deepen it. McGee felt his blood rushing, a wave of warmth spreading over his body, and he pulled back regrettably, bringing his other hand to Tony’s cheek. “And that’s why no more wine tonight,” he whispered into Tony’s ear.
“Oh, come on guys, you don’t have to stop on our account,” Abby said, her voice suggestive. Both men turned their eyes to her, and McGee rolled his when he saw the tired, enchanted grin on her face. “I’m not saying I want to see you have sex-“
“Ha,” Tony laughed.
“-but a little bit more kissing would be nice.”
“Abigail Scuito, you have problems.” Tony shook his head, grinning.
“You’ve always had a good imagination. Use it,” added Tim, sticking out his own tongue in response to the one Abby stuck out at him.
“It is rather…intriguing…watching the two of you do that. I did not know I would find it so fascinating,” Ziva commented, her body turned more towards them, elbow bent and resting on the armrest, hand holding her head. Her brown eyes considered the two of them, a crease between her brows. “I do believe I agree with Abby; a bit more kissing would not be a bad thing.”
“What, never seen two men swapping spit?” Tony asked provocatively.
“Oh, I have seen it. It is very different when it is two good friends, though, one of which is known for being, what, is girl-crazy what I am looking for?”
“I’m not thirteen, Ziva.”
“And yet you often act like you are when it comes to attractive women and sex. Do not forget, we have been naked and entirely too close for coziness-“
“Comfort,” Abby helpfully corrected.
“-so I know how you react to the female form.”
“Agent David, have you ever seen McGee mid-orgasm? Jessica Alba and Angelina Jolie could be making out on the bed next to us and it would be so much noise to ignore.”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” McGee groaned, dropping his chin to his chest and closing his eyes in dismay.
Tony was shaking in mirth, moving to point limply at the woman opposite them. “And I so knew you’d be into it. See, McGee, I told you they’d be turned on by the idea of us together.”
“Hey, if men can be into girls getting it on, it’s only fair we can do the same thing.” Abby had pushed herself more upright, her legs crossed under her. “And it’s better when it’s live and in the same room with you.”
McGee turned to her, trying to think of something to say. But Tony beat him to it. “I’ve been there. College. Vodka does amazing things to co-eds. Way hotter in person.”
“Maybe another bottle of wine would be a good thing,” McGee mumbled, still staring at Abby. “Might make this conversation easier to forget.”
“I know, right? Way better when you could reach out and touch,” the goth added, ignoring McGee’s comment.
“Have you ever kissed a woman?” Ziva asked.
Abby shook her head, almost sadly. “Nope, opportunity has never come up, believe it or not. Don’t know if would. Don’t have a problem with it, find it fun to watch, but I’m pretty much wired one way. Why, you offering, Miss David?” she queried, a flirtatious tone to her throaty voice.
Ziva smiled coyly, turning her attention back to the two men. McGee felt her eyes boring into him, and he returned the look with as much boldness as he could muster in his more than mildly inebriated state.
“Do you think Gibbs knows?”
McGee caught the look Tony shot at him, and shrugged one shoulder. “Does that look like the kind of coffee table either Tony or I would have bought?” he asked by way of an answer.
Both women turned their gazes to the furniture indicated. It was a simple table, a couple feet long, maybe a foot and half wide, standing on four slender legs made of a lighter wood than the top. The finish was minimal, making it appear modest and uncomplicated. But the care that went in to it, the soft edges, the inset designs in the surface that weren’t obvious at first, showed both skill and care in its construction.
“He said he’d had the wood, wanted to make something since the boat’s gone, and had decided we needed it.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Ziva.
“It is,” Tony agreed.
Abby had leaned forward and was running her hand gently over the closest corner of the table, nodding. “Yup, the bossman knows his wood.”
“That sounds really wrong coming out of your mouth,” Tony said, dropping his head to the couch cushion behind him.
“Tony, you need to stop going to the ‘sex place’ in your head all of the time,” chided Ziva, her own eyes still looking at the coffee table carefully.
“It’ll never happen,” McGee replied, caressing the back of Tony’s head. “But it does get worse the more alcohol he ingests.”
“No it doesn’t,” Abby pointed out absently.
“Did you think he would not wonder why you were moving in together?” Ziva asked.
“No, we just didn’t think he’d acknowledge it. But he showed up the second night we spent here with that, had a beer with us, and made it clear in his own way that he was willing to look the other way as long as it stayed out of work.”
Tim continued from there. “And we promised him that if things got out of hand, one of us would request transfer or resign. He nodded, said ‘good luck’, and left. And we’ve spent the last week trying to figure out how he figured it out.”
“He’s Gibbs,” Abby stated, “It’s the gut.”
Tony snorted. “That damned gut,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Why did you move in together? Seems rather quick, no?” Ziva inquired, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs under her.
“Well, if you think about it, Ziva, they’ve been seeing each other for, we’ll say, like five years, since Timmy was kind of mine most of the first one he was here. Then factor in the sex they’ve been having on and off for most of the last four years. It’s not like they don’t totally know what spending too much time together is going to be like. This way they don’t have to figure out whose place to go to.” Abby was gesturing with her hands, her tipsy state giving her movements more flair than usual.
Shaking his head indulgently, McGee answered. “My lease was up, his apartment building said no to a German shepherd full time, and Abby’s right, we’d already been spending a lot of time together. I was open to the idea, and add to that Tony’s desire to settle down…”
He trailed off when he caught the look Tony was shooting at him over his shoulder. The raised eyebrow was enough to warn him, but the comment made him grin. “God, McMouthy, ramble much?”
“What if NCIS makes the connection? The Director?” Ziva asked, and McGee could see her looking from one of them to the other.
Still looking at each other, Tim shrugged. “Same thing we told Gibbs. Either transfer or resign. They can’t fire one of us for being in a relationship, and I don’t think Vance would allow either of us to go anywhere. Either of us,” he repeated, squeezing the back of his partner’s neck for emphasis when Tony made a sound of disagreement.
“Oh god, this is getting too serious. Let’s go back to making out and getting the girls all hot and bothered.” Tony pulled himself up to sit next to Tim on the couch, smiling sexily. “Either that or we open another bottle.”
“I vote another bottle!” Abby agreed, climbing to her feet and rushing to the kitchen before anyone could stop her. “Don’t worry Timmy, only one more, we either all drink red or white.”
“Red!” was Tony’s answer before either Ziva or McGee could say anything. “Now, what were we talking about?” he asked, one hand wrapping around Tim’s head and other resting on his nearest thigh.
“We were talking about what we would do in the event our big gay love affair was discovered. And you decided to try and distract me with sex.”
“Is it working?” Tony wondered cheekily.
“Better than it should with two other people in the room,” he whispered, feeling the heat of Tony’s body close to his, the rush of dampness of his breath on his face. It was the clinking of glasses in the kitchen that distracted him. “Go make sure she doesn’t break anything, will you?” Pressing his lips to Tony’s he then shoved lightly at the other man, who continued smiling as he moved away.
Closing his eyes and sighing, Tim wiped a hand down his face, trying to calm himself. Gaining back what little control he thought he could, he opened his eyes on Ziva, who was once again watching him closely. Her brown eyes were reflective, shiny from something more than just too much alcohol or the somewhat late hour.
He watched her closely, too, wishing he could say the things that he’d wanted to say back in September when they’d gotten her home alive, when he and Tony had stopped seeing each other in favor of figuring out their own feelings. Tim had no idea what if any resolution regarding Ziva Tony had come to, and was doubtful he’d come to any; he himself certainly hadn’t.
Then time had passed, and the proverbial elephant in the room had either shrunk into nothingness, or it had decided to simply move on of its own accord, leaving all of them breathing deeper and ready to get on with life. Yet at the moment, Tim could hear the soft thundering of feet, and was worried if it wasn’t headed off at the pass, the elephant would make its presence known again.
McGee took a deep breath, still looking at his friend. “We didn’t know what to do without you here; we were kind of lost for a little while. He and I needed something, and we found it in each other. And I think we both still wonder how things might have been if, well, certain events had not occurred.”
Ziva bent her head to the side, still considering him with her big brown eyes. There was still some sound coming from the kitchen, Tony apparently fighting with the one cork of the night that had decided to be difficult. She smiled absently as Abby cheered him on in his struggle, never taking her eyes off of McGee. For his part, Tim was just hoping she understood his somewhat vague words, because he wasn’t sure how else to say it.
Again she nodded, one slow lowering than rising of her head. She smiled sleepily, and said, “It is the way it should be. I am very happy for you, both of you, Tim. I mean it. Let’s not worry about how things might have gone. Everything ended well, that is all that matters.”
Tony’s declaration of success from the kitchen was soon followed by the clink of glasses once again, and the two in the living room grinned at each other, a feeling of settled contentment between them. He knew that what had been said there had needed to be said, but he now also realized that it could have gone unsaid and the unacknowledged thoughts would have simply disappeared into nothing like so many things had in the last few years. This way was so much better, he decided, as Tony and Abby walked back in each carrying to nearly full glasses of red wine.
Abby moved over to Ziva with two glasses and handed her one, while Tony rejoined him on the couch and gave Tim the second glass he held. Settling down, Tony wrapped his now free left arm over Tim’s shoulders, leaning in and kissing Tim on his temple. Taking a sip from his glass, he then turned and met Tony’s lips with his own, the soft caress mixing well with the warmth of the extra wine.
The quiet giggle from across the room brought McGee’s eyes away from Tony, and he saw Abby sitting on the arm of Ziva’s chair, again smiling the same enchanted and excited smile. “How much more of a show could we get if I made you shoot that glass of wine?”
“Not much of one. Probie’d pass out if he pounded that much of anything alcoholic,” DiNozzo teased, drinking from his own glass. “Wait, we do still have that bottle of tequila, though!”
“Tony!”
“McGeek and his McSister drink tequila together. I usually have to pour him into bed after I’ve wrapped her up safely on the couch. It’s really quite shocking,” he said, smiling unflinchingly at the glower McGee was giving him.
“I thought Sarah couldn’t drink?” Abby drawled, leaning back next to Ziva.
“Oh, no, she can, you just have to hide her phone and disconnect all computers from the internet. Other than that, she’s a blast.”
“Drunk dialer, I used to be one of those. After I called Gibbs one too many times, he scared it out of me. Did you know calling him at four in the morning when he’s actually asleep and not passed out under a boat is a bad thing?” Abby asked distractedly, paying more attention to her wine than the looks everyone was giving her.
“Does she still flirt with you, Tony? I bet that is a sight,” Ziva stated, winking in McGee’s direction.
“Sarah finally stopped doing that when it was clear that Tony and I were more than just occasional bed partners-“
“The term is fuck-buddies, McGee,” Abby cut in.
“-but, yes, remind me to tell you the shades of red Tony turned when Sarah told him what she’d love to do to Agent Tommy, or what she’d love Officer Lisa to do to him.”
Laughing at the look of mortification that swept across Tony’s face, Ziva said, “Oh, I will most certainly not forget to ask about that. How about over breakfast?”
“Yeah, breakfast! Or, we could wait until Sarah’s feeling better and we could have a girls’ night and she could tell us!” Abby nudged the other woman with her shoulder, twitching excitedly.
“Drink you damn wine,” Tony groaned, having buried his face in Tim’s neck. “I hate you,” he added, only loud enough for the younger man to hear.
“Hey, you started it,” Tim whispered back.
“I did not,” he whined petulantly, mouth moving against the skin of Tim’s neck.
“Stop whining. It’s unbecoming,” Tim pointed out playfully, pulling back as Tony moved to look at him.
“And that is something I simply can’t be. You wouldn’t love me anymore.”
“No, I would still love you. I might respect you less, but I’d still love you."
“Good to know,” Tony finished, then emptied the glass of wine he still held in his right hand. It had been more than half full still, and when he was done, he stretched to set the now empty glass on the coffee table, never taking his eyes off of McGee.
Thinking for barely a moment, Tim raised his own glass and gulped the last of his own glass, vaguely aware this was not how one should drink wine that had cost him as much as he thinks that bottle had. But when one had Tony DiNozzo daring you with his big green eyes and wide smile, you couldn’t exactly deny him, or think about money. Tony took his now empty glass and set it next to his own, then moved in closer, nearly nose to nose.
“Tony, there are other people in the room,” he murmured.
“Hey, pay no attention to us,” Abby stage whispered, an eager tone to her voice.
Apparently, Tony was paying attention, if the wink he sent McGee was any sign, and he continued moving closer. His tongue came out and licked along McGee’s bottom lip, then closed in and sealed their mouths together for only a second. Pulling back just as slowly, he turned his head to the two women. “I think I’m getting tired,” he said, a sudden yet authentic yawn stretching his face.
“Tease,” Abby grumbled, finishing her wine. “That was very mean, Anthony DiNozzo.”
Beside her, Ziva was smiling and shaking her head. “What else do you expect, Abs?”
McGee was still looking at the other man, trying yet again to calm his body, or more specifically his dick. “Tony, you are such a pain in the ass,” he complained.
“You said that earlier, of course then it was actually an accurate description.” Tony jumped to his feet, wavering slightly, as McGee digested that.
Once the words sunk in, Tim growled, finding himself unfortunately speechless. Also unfortunate was that Abby had evidently worked out the meaning behind Tony’s words, and was once again laughing hysterically. Ziva was just watching the other woman as she laughed, having not clued in.
“Don’t worry, Ziva, if you don’t get it, I’ll explain it later,” Abby said through her laughter.
Nodding slowly, Ziva turned to McGee, who could do nothing more than sigh and bury his face in his hands.
“Okay, girls, if you need something to sleep in, feel free to pilfer what you may need. You can either share the spare bed or one of you can sleep out here, or with us…” Tony said, leaving off at his last suggestion.
Tim was suddenly on his feet and across the room, hands on his partner’s shoulders, partly trying to be threatening, partly trying to hold himself up. “I hope you realize how very much you are going to pay for tonight,” he warned the older man.
“I look forward to it.” Tony moved closer, settling his hands on McGee’s hips.
“He never does turn off that charm, does he?” Ziva asked dryly, watching them.
“Apparently not,” provided Abby. “Come on Ziva, let’s go steal some boxers and t-shirts to sleep in,” and she pulled the smaller woman from the room with her.
“I make life interesting, don’t I?”
Looking into those green eyes, surrounded by impossibly long eyelashes, and the most expressive face he’d ever encountered, McGee could say nothing else but the truth. “Yeah, you definitely do.”
**********
“I can hear Abby giggling.”
It was nearing 2 in the morning. It had taken a few minutes to get Abby to stop rifling through all of the drawers in their bedroom, and a few more to get Tony and Abby to stop throwing innuendos back and forth. But finally, after promising Abby that they would take both she and Ziva to the Ritz for caviar, to which both women agreed heartily, McGee had been able to drag the other man out of the other room and into theirs.
After stripping each other down, brushing their teeth, and taking care of various other nightly rituals, they were curled around each other in the center of the bed. Tony was dragging his fingertips through McGee’s hair, and McGee was running his hand across Tony’s chest. Tim was closer to sleep, riding the ocean tide he felt he was floating on, so he had missed the muffled sound Abby had made.
“We should be able to hear Ziva snoring shortly, unless she got that fixed,” Tony added tiredly.
“We’re where we’re supposed to be, right?” Tim asked suddenly, raising his head and finding Tony’s eyes in the dark.
The movement had brought Tony’s hand closer to McGee’s neck, so he simply rested it there, massaging gently, pulling him closer. “What, don’t believe Ziva?” he returned gently, proving he’d overheard the quiet conversation from the kitchen.
“I guess so, I-“ McGee started, then stopped, uncertain what to say.
Pulling once more, on both his neck and his hand, Tony hauled Tim to lie more on top of him, then tugging until their foreheads were touching. “I thought it was decided awhile ago that you were the more mature, put-together man in this bed.” The hand that wasn’t still holding McGee’s head in place was slowly running up and down his back, from shoulder to rear.
“Forgive me for feeling a little unsure,” Tim mumbled, though with no anger in his voice. “I guess I can’t always have my head on straight.”
“Eh, alcohol never has been your greatest accomplice.”
“That’s your job.”
“Exactly.” Tony rolled his head slightly, bringing their mouths together. They kissed, and Tim could feel everything Tony was trying to relay without words. And he realized Tony knew he still needed to hear it, though, when he pulled back. “We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be. Trust me,” he whispered tenderly.
And Tim was able to answer immediately. “I do.”
Pairing: T2
Rating: Adult
Length: ~7200
Summary: Just an evening in, Ziva and Abby are over, wine is had, and conversations occur.
Warnings: Not really. Basically a follow-up to "I Promise", my first NCIS fic, set shortly after Aliyah. Can't think of anything particularly spoilery, really. (See Author's note). Some humor, sap, sex, and mild drama herein.
Author's Notes: Well, this is the, I believe, 5th NCIS fic started, but only the 2nd finished. For me, that's a HUGE success. Yes, this is a follow up to my first story I Promise , so you might want to read it first. IT was set, like I mention above, shortly after Aliyah. THIS is set, well, nowish? A couple of random refs to recent happenings, but nothing specific, so somewhat nebulous. (If anyone who might read this feels I should change this warning, feel free to let me know and I will do so :) Oh, yeah, and if you have any comments, feel free to leave those. Also, NOT BETA-ED!
Author's note, the sequel: I pretty much suck at titles. So, for this one and it's predecessor, I just took the last lines. Just felt I should warn you ;)
Disclaimer: They all belong to me, as does the Golden Gate Bridge, a 2010 Porsche Boxter, and my dream house on the beach in Santa Cruz, CA. HELLO, NOT MINE.
I Do
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Oh, I’m totally serious.”
“Now? Do you really have to prove a point now?”
“Yes, I do. Stop moving.”
Groaning, McGee forced himself to still his movements. He glared down at the man whose lap he was currently sitting in, and whose dick was currently buried inside of him, formulating ways to get back at Tony for this later.
“Come on, Timmy, loosen up.” Tony grinned up at his partner, reaching up to drag his tongue up the other man’s neck, nosing the pulse point, running his hands along his back. “You’re the one that challenged my lasting power. There are things that come with age, and patience is one of them.”
Tim snorted at that. “I’m plenty loose, thanks to you. And the only thing that’s come with your hastening years is unfounded confidence in your ability to resist me,” he shot back, joining the game with as much gusto as he could while in his current position. “You’ve never been known for your endurance under these circumstances, DiNozzo, according your own testimony.”
“Stop using big words to distract me.”
“Big words? Testimony or circumstances? Or never? You’re a college grad, you should be able to-unnhh.”
Tony smiled again, and then moved his finger away from where it had been pushing against Tim’s stretched entrance. “You know you love me.”
Nodding slowly, the younger man replied, “Yeah, but sometimes I wonder why.” He dropped his head the few inches necessary, and took Tony’s mouth in a kiss, pushing one hand down his back, then twisting and reaching the other more dexterous one behind himself to fondle and pull at Tony’s balls. Swallowing the answering groan, Tim pulled back and smirked. “Did you know that the word ‘testimony’ has roots in the term ‘testes,” he whispered playfully in Tony’s ear.
Gurgling, Tony whimpered, “How do you know these things? And why are you so damn flexible?”
Ignoring the questions, Tim continued. “Apparently, long before there were bibles to swear on, men were made to grab their testicles with their left hand,” he continued, adding an extra squeeze with the same hand for good measure, “and raise their right to make an oath.”
From where he’d buried his face in Tim’s neck, Tony grunted, “God, it’s like I’m having sex with Ducky.”
“In fact, in Roman times, a man’s testicles,” and another squeeze, “were considered sacred, and only men with two of them could testify in court.”
McGee was cut off when Tony finally got involved again, slipping a hand between them to do some of his own pulling and fondling, causing both men to groan deeply, and McGee to lose his train of thought. “There must be something in that huge brain of yours about pillars and their phallic importance,” Tony questioned mischievously, running his thumb over the slit on the end of Tim’s dick.
“Uhh, Tony, you keep doing that, you know you’re going to lose,” McGee countered, trying to sound more resilient than he felt, gasping when a particularly long pull at his cock made him tighten around the other man. “Oh, god, you’re such a pain in the ass,” he said, bringing both hands together behind Tony’s neck.
“Do you mean that literally, or figuratively?” inquired the older man, a tone in his voice for which McGee could easily picture the accompanying grin. “Either way, one of my favorite things to be, a pain in your ass,” and he nibbled and licked the collar bone beneath his lips.
Using the grip he had on DiNozzo, Tim pulled his head back, hunching to drag his tongue across Tony’s jaw and over to his ear, a move he knew drove the other man crazy, and breathed wetly into the shell. “All I have to do to win this is squeeze you’re cock, start humming the Magnum theme-“
“That doesn’t always work.”
“-And you’re done for.”
“And if you clench, you lose. That counts as ‘moving willingly.’”
“What, that’s against the rules? Since when?”
“Since now. Gotta set’em at some point.”
Tim glared down at the man who was smirking up at him, and replied, “Naturally.” They stared at each other, silently daring the other to move first. McGee began wonder if letting Tony win would be worth it to just come already.
“You know you’re going to lose, Probilicious, so just give it up,” Tony taunted.
He could feel the strain on his body to move, to pull himself up then push himself down on the flesh inside of him and be done with it. He could feel a drop of sweat running down his spine and Tony’s fingers just barely caressing his cock, which just got harder with every heartbeat. His own hands were still grasping the back of Tony’s head, buried in the thick hair and scratching lightly at the scalp.
It was as if Tony was trying to play out some Spaghetti Western shoot out, but with sex instead of six-shooters and rifles.
Watching as the other man continued to breathe slowly through his mouth at an almost meditative rate, Tim closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to Tony’s. “I hate you,” he muttered, and pulled Tony’s mouth to his. He’d moved first, but within seconds they were both moving, working together to get to the finish line.
A few minutes later, (though more than either would have thought), Tony lay flat on his back, breathing in lungfuls of air and stoking both hands up and down Tim’s sides. For his part, McGee was attempting to hold himself up with his arms, his hands buried in the hair of Tony’s chest. He was breathing hard also, through his nose and out his mouth in an effort to calm his body down. At least sex with Anthony DiNozzo was never boring.
When McGee finally opened his eyes again and saw the look in Tony’s own, he smiled tenderly, dropping himself down slowly to lay on him. Sighing as the movement caused Tony’s dick to pull out, he kissed him gently but deep. Long arms wrapped around his back, and a hand ran up into his hair; he settled in for a few minutes of simply kissing and enjoying the lingering pleasure. Time caught up with them, finally, and they simultaneously looked over to the alarm clock.
“Shower.”
“Shower,” McGee parroted, and he slowly rolled onto the bed and then off of it onto his feet. Putting out a hand he helped Tony to his own feet, pulling him close and whispering in his ear, “You win.”
“Oh yes I did, and I enjoyed the hell out of my prize.”
**********
Nearly twenty minutes later found them still in the shower, kissing leisurely under the spray after washing off the remains of their lovemaking. So distracted by what they were doing with their mouths they didn’t hear the holler from the other room. But the knock then snick of the bathroom door opening brought them both to a halt.
Abby’s words had them both rolling their eyes in exasperation. “Stop whatever it is you’re doing in there and come be good little hosts.”
Once the door had been pulled closed again, the two men looked at each other, then down between both their bodies. “Up for another little competition, McGee?”
Tim simply sighed, leaned in and kissed Tony. The girls could wait a few more minutes.
**********
“Oh my god Ziva,” was all Tony appeared able to say. He was sprawled back into the corner of the couch in the living room, hand resting on his full stomach. “I don’t think I’m going to eat again until, well, probably a few hours.” He sighed contentedly then groaned as McGee thumped his belly as he sat next to him.
“One of these days you’re going to learn when to stop.” Smiling as the other man glared, Tim continued. “Of course you wouldn’t be you at that point.”
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it,” Ziva said as she joined the men in the living room, carrying two glasses of white wine and handing one to McGee. “Though it was hardly a complex meal. Chicken, penne, pesto and spinach. Even you could have made it Tony.”
Abby entered the room, holding two more glasses of wine, this time red. “Ziva, don’t put ideas in his head. Tony can order food. It is a well known fact he's not allowed to cook anything more complicated than Ramen.”
“And that I’ve had to rescue from him,” added McGee, ducking the lazy hand that tried to slap the back of his head. “Hey, I’m not much better, but at least I have yet to actually burn a pot because I forgot I was boiling water.”
Tony pushed himself to a more upright position and took the glass Abby was holding out for him. “Once, I did that once. You’re the science geek that put foil in the microwave.”
“You did not,” Abby said, turning wide eyes at the younger man.
“Hey, I was exhausted from having followed Gibbs around for days. And I remembered before anything happened.” He raised his hands in defense, shaking his head. “Trust me, we could carry this conversation on forever if you want. What about when you were trying to make Caf-Pows in your lab?”
“The power was out, I was going through withdrawals, and there was no possibility of fire.”
“Good point,” he conceded. “Can we move on now?”
“Yes, let us discuss something more interesting than which one of you is more likely to cause an explosion,” Ziva declared, sipping her wine and curling into the lone armchair of the room, an overstuffed monstrosity in black leather, well worn from years of belonging solely to Tony.
Abby had plopped onto the rug in front of the couch, not far from McGee’s outstretched legs. “I like the new place. You guys lucked out.”
McGee nodded. “I didn’t think I’d find a place that would take Jethro AND Tony,” he joked, ignoring the frown the older man turned on him.
“You know, the way you talk about me, one might think you didn’t like me,” Tony muttered, drinking deep from his glass.
Turning his head, Tim leaned forward and said, “I like you, trust me,” then pecked him on the lips.
“Where is my other favorite Jethro, by the way?” inquired Abby.
“Spending the weekend with Sarah,” Tony answered. “Roommate went home for the weekend, she’s sick, and she didn’t want to be alone. I took him over last night in exchange for McGee fixing my laptop.”
“Okay, first, what did you do to your computer this time,” Abby began, pausing to take a drink.
“And why is McGee wanting something in exchange for fixing one,” Ziva finished for her.
“Since it’s the third time this month he managed to open an email with malware. I’m thinking of cutting his computer privileges until he learns to listen to me and ignore spam.” Tim pushed himself to his feet, consuming the last of his wine. “More? Anybody?”
“Just bring the bottles,” Tony ordered.
“So, you still have not learned to use your email properly. How did you remove the virus from McGee’s computer at the office?” Ziva pinned Tony with a glare just as Tim re-entered the living room, and he chuckled.
“Yeah, Tony, how did you do that?” he asked, knowing the answer but enjoying the squirming the other man was doing.
“I did it,” Abby simply answered, holding her empty glass aloft for McGee to refill for her. “Tony wanted to play a joke, I had nothing better to do, and I enjoy reminding everybody that I too have skills when it comes to computers.”
Ziva shook her head, reaching for the bottle of white wine that had been set on the small coffee table. “And when did you learn of this scheme, McGee?”
“It was one of my Christmas presents,” was the answer from Tim, who was again settled next to the other man on the couch. They were closer now, Tim leaning back against Tony’s side, Tony’s arm resting across Tim’s front.
Abby snorted into her glass, choking slightly on her wine. “Wait, you were together then?” she asked, again turning wide, curious eyes to both of them.
“Yup,” Tony answered.
“I thought it was New Years!” Abby returned, voice full of shock and confusion.
McGee shook his head. “No, that’s just the first time you saw us kiss; we had promised we weren’t going to do anything, but Tony doesn’t know how to stick to his word,” he said, nudging the man in question. "Tony decided to try and play it off like it was the first time, why I don't know." Waiting for the pieces to fall into place in Abby’s head, he wasn’t really that surprised when Ziva seemed to figure it out first.
“You’ve been…close…for awhile,” she said, wine glass resting on one of her raised knees.
He looked at her closely, feeling the slight tightening in the arm Tony had wrapped around his chest. Tony’s body move slightly, and guessed he was nodding.
From her place on the floor, Abby was watching the silent exchange, and McGee could see her holding her reaction back. “Go ahead, Abs, do your thing.”
She turned her black-rimmed green eyes to him, then up to Tony, then back to Tim, and the smile that blossomed across her face confirmed his suspicions, which meant he and Tony had just confirmed hers. “I knew it. I knew it! I totally knew you guys had been doing the dirty longer than a couple of months.”
Tony snorted. “Oh, you don’t know how dirty,” he mumbled, squeezing him again when Tim elbowed him lightly.
“When did it start? I could guess, but I’d rather you just told me.”
Craning his neck to look at the other man, Tim smiled, then turned back and said, “Right before Gibbs came back from his ‘retirement’.”
“Hiatus,” he heard mumbled behind him, and he shot a quick, ‘Really? Still bitter?’ look over this shoulder.
“Really?” Abby asked, ignoring Tony’s addition to the conversation. “That’s like a year earlier than I would have guessed.”
McGee stole a look at Ziva as she reached forward and filled her glass again. When she inclined the bottle towards him, he disengaged himself from Tony’s hold and reached for the offered bottle, emptying it into his own glass. He then reached for the bottle of red wine next to Abby, and turned to fill Tony’s glass.
“Well, it was about a year later that anything else happened, for obvious reasons,” Tony replied, thanking McGee silently with a smile for topping him off. “Happened a couple more times, then, well, things went to shit, again.”
“Jeanne,” Ziva stated, rejoining the conversation.
Tim nodded, and settled back against the cushion, keeping a small amount of space between him and the other man. “He freaked out for a little while.”
“Being accused of murder by someone you loved tends to screw with your head,” Tony added quietly.
“Then Iraq, then Director Shepard, next he’s at sea, and if I keep talking about him like he isn’t here, I’m going to pay for it,” Tim finished, having watched Tony’s eyes darken with every word. “Hey, they asked.”
“Shut up, Probie,” was the reply, and the older man took a drink.
“Should we change the subject?” Ziva asked.
“No! Or, let’s just skip to how you actually became a couple, or whatever. Well, except, I think that concerns last summer, and that’s a time none of us actually want to talk about. But, wait, it didn’t start then?” Abby turned her focus once again fully on the men, and Tim sighed.
“Okay, I’m just going to get us up to date,” Tony said, sitting up a little straighter and emptying his glass. “We slept together about a month after Tel Aviv, then off and on throughout the summer-“
“More on,” interjected Tim.
“-then kind of stopped for a few months. Then this one,” he continued, after motioning to McGee with a jerk of his head, “met the redhead to beat all redheads, I tried to help him through it, having been in a similar situation, we got drunk, and we ended up throwing a metaphorical middle finger at Rule #12.”
Both women seemed to be absorbing all of that, and McGee looked to his left, catching the small smile on Tony’s face.
“Wow, that’s so cool,” Abby said quietly, adoringly. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I need another drink.” Polishing off the wine still in her glass, she pushed herself to her feet and clomped off to the kitchen.
“You hid the good stuff, right?” Tony asked as he stood to follow Abby.
McGee smiled at him, and then turned back to Ziva. She still sat curled up in Tony’s old chair, wine glass now between two fingers, brown eyes on his face. “I am happy for you, McGee. Tim. You seem good together.”
“Thank you, Ziva. And I’m just glad you’re here to say that,” he answered, hoping to convey more than just his joy in having her present.
She nodded, smiling, and the moment was over when Abby clomped back into the room. “Ha ha, I found the good stuff,” she declared proudly, and began filling glasses.
Tony shrugged at the look McGee sent him. “She never seems to lose her skill for finding the unfindable.”
“Pfft, Tony, it was behind a bunch of old beer steins. I’m not stupid. You should try hiding things somewhere I wouldn’t look, like…well…” she trailed off.
“Exactly. There is no place you won’t look,” Tony said in response.
Abby gestured with both hands, nearly splashing some of the red wine down her front. “Then don’t bother trying to hide anything. Duh.”
**********
It was nearly an hour later when McGee checked the time on the DVD player. 10:35 p.m. The second bottles of both the red and white wine that Abby had retrieved with the help of Tony were empty, the thirds of each having given up a glass to each of their respective drinkers.
Tony was lying down, his head in Tim’s lap, and his feet in Abby’s. Abby had decided she was done with the floor, and had simply lifted her friend’s legs and sat down, then proceeded to try and tickle him. After the third near loss of her wine glass, McGee had threatened to cut her off if she didn’t stop. Tony had nixed her suggestion of drinking out of the beer steins. “They’re for beer, hello.”
“Something just occurred to me. I am the only one in the room who has not had sex with McGee.” Ziva was now lounging sideways in what Tim now considered her chair, her legs hanging over one armrest, her head lying on the other. She was bleary eyed but smiling, watching the aforementioned man.
Abby snickered, saying, “Well, I believe I can speak for both Tony and I and say you definitely missed out.”
“Yeah, I actually pity you, Zi-vah. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard the noises Timmy makes when-“ Tony was cut off by the hand that covered his mouth.
“That’s enough, DiNozzo.”
Tony winked at him, licking his palm playfully.
“Oh, yeah, I’d almost forgotten about those noises! They’re so cute while being way hot. Just like him, actually,” she said, turning a cheeky grin McGee’s way.
Ziva giggled from where she was sprawled. “Noises?”
“Don’t even think about it, Tony, Abby. I have plenty of fodder of my own.”
McGee’s ex-sorta girlfriend and his present very much boyfriend smiled at each other, then commenced making low grumbling noises, Abby adding a few squeaks and high-pitched moans, Tony sighing and almost whistling.
At this point Ziva was laughing out right, and McGee was struggling somewhat drunkenly with DiNozzo, who simply continued making noises, Abby having lost her own struggle not to laugh. “Did you know Tony practically meows when I’m performing oral sex, and that Abby growls at really strange times?”
The room froze, the men’s hands locked in battle above Tony’s face. The younger man simply raised an eyebrow to the older, as if challenging him to deny his words. “Ziva claims to be a screamer,” Tony offered.
“Oh, I am a screamer,” she confirmed, smiling innocently at the three on the couch.
“And can you not say ‘blow job’ like a normal man?” Tony joked.
“Would you call what I do to you simply a ‘blow job’, Tony?”
“Wow,” Abby breathed from somewhere to his right.
After another quiet, strange moment, McGee said, “Okay, no more sex talk.”
Abby snorted, and Tim was fairly certain the laughter that followed could be heard by the neighbors until it ended a few minutes later.
**********
The last of the wine bottles were dropped in the recycling bin, clanking against each other loudly.
“More wine?” Tony asked, grabbing his glass and pouring the last dregs into his mouth.
“No, no more wine, Tony. I think we will all sleep very well tonight, thank you.” Tim plucked the glass out of the other man’s hand and set it carefully into the dishwasher. Once the machine was set to do its work, he guided him back out to the living room, where Abby had taken over more than half of the couch and Ziva was apparently counting something out on her hands.
“Whatchya doin’, Ziva?” Tony asked, flopping down on the floor, ducking as Tim stepped over him to sit on what was left of the couch.
Squinting, the Israeli turned her gaze to him, and McGee nearly choked at the look on her face. “I do not remember,” was the answer, and her hands dropped to her waist. “I do not think I will be driving anywhere tonight.”
“Didn’t think you would be.”
“Don’t think I will be either, McGee. Are you sure we can’t have more wine?” Abby’s head was lolling, the only word for it, on the back of the couch, and she rolled it to look at him, smiling lazily. “We aren’t going anywhere, and it’s not even midnight!”
“Abby, it’s actually half past midnight.”
“That’s early!” she exclaimed, a petulant look on her face.
“No, no more. And don’t even think of ganging up on me, DiNozzo. You never win in these battles, so don’t try it.” He reached out and buried his hand in Tony’s hair, pulling gently to angle the man’s head towards him. Receiving a smile in return, he bent over and kissed him, licking and sucking gently on Tony’s bottom lip.
He felt the other man lean up into the kiss, opening his mouth to deepen it. McGee felt his blood rushing, a wave of warmth spreading over his body, and he pulled back regrettably, bringing his other hand to Tony’s cheek. “And that’s why no more wine tonight,” he whispered into Tony’s ear.
“Oh, come on guys, you don’t have to stop on our account,” Abby said, her voice suggestive. Both men turned their eyes to her, and McGee rolled his when he saw the tired, enchanted grin on her face. “I’m not saying I want to see you have sex-“
“Ha,” Tony laughed.
“-but a little bit more kissing would be nice.”
“Abigail Scuito, you have problems.” Tony shook his head, grinning.
“You’ve always had a good imagination. Use it,” added Tim, sticking out his own tongue in response to the one Abby stuck out at him.
“It is rather…intriguing…watching the two of you do that. I did not know I would find it so fascinating,” Ziva commented, her body turned more towards them, elbow bent and resting on the armrest, hand holding her head. Her brown eyes considered the two of them, a crease between her brows. “I do believe I agree with Abby; a bit more kissing would not be a bad thing.”
“What, never seen two men swapping spit?” Tony asked provocatively.
“Oh, I have seen it. It is very different when it is two good friends, though, one of which is known for being, what, is girl-crazy what I am looking for?”
“I’m not thirteen, Ziva.”
“And yet you often act like you are when it comes to attractive women and sex. Do not forget, we have been naked and entirely too close for coziness-“
“Comfort,” Abby helpfully corrected.
“-so I know how you react to the female form.”
“Agent David, have you ever seen McGee mid-orgasm? Jessica Alba and Angelina Jolie could be making out on the bed next to us and it would be so much noise to ignore.”
“Oh my god, I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” McGee groaned, dropping his chin to his chest and closing his eyes in dismay.
Tony was shaking in mirth, moving to point limply at the woman opposite them. “And I so knew you’d be into it. See, McGee, I told you they’d be turned on by the idea of us together.”
“Hey, if men can be into girls getting it on, it’s only fair we can do the same thing.” Abby had pushed herself more upright, her legs crossed under her. “And it’s better when it’s live and in the same room with you.”
McGee turned to her, trying to think of something to say. But Tony beat him to it. “I’ve been there. College. Vodka does amazing things to co-eds. Way hotter in person.”
“Maybe another bottle of wine would be a good thing,” McGee mumbled, still staring at Abby. “Might make this conversation easier to forget.”
“I know, right? Way better when you could reach out and touch,” the goth added, ignoring McGee’s comment.
“Have you ever kissed a woman?” Ziva asked.
Abby shook her head, almost sadly. “Nope, opportunity has never come up, believe it or not. Don’t know if would. Don’t have a problem with it, find it fun to watch, but I’m pretty much wired one way. Why, you offering, Miss David?” she queried, a flirtatious tone to her throaty voice.
Ziva smiled coyly, turning her attention back to the two men. McGee felt her eyes boring into him, and he returned the look with as much boldness as he could muster in his more than mildly inebriated state.
“Do you think Gibbs knows?”
McGee caught the look Tony shot at him, and shrugged one shoulder. “Does that look like the kind of coffee table either Tony or I would have bought?” he asked by way of an answer.
Both women turned their gazes to the furniture indicated. It was a simple table, a couple feet long, maybe a foot and half wide, standing on four slender legs made of a lighter wood than the top. The finish was minimal, making it appear modest and uncomplicated. But the care that went in to it, the soft edges, the inset designs in the surface that weren’t obvious at first, showed both skill and care in its construction.
“He said he’d had the wood, wanted to make something since the boat’s gone, and had decided we needed it.”
“It’s beautiful,” said Ziva.
“It is,” Tony agreed.
Abby had leaned forward and was running her hand gently over the closest corner of the table, nodding. “Yup, the bossman knows his wood.”
“That sounds really wrong coming out of your mouth,” Tony said, dropping his head to the couch cushion behind him.
“Tony, you need to stop going to the ‘sex place’ in your head all of the time,” chided Ziva, her own eyes still looking at the coffee table carefully.
“It’ll never happen,” McGee replied, caressing the back of Tony’s head. “But it does get worse the more alcohol he ingests.”
“No it doesn’t,” Abby pointed out absently.
“Did you think he would not wonder why you were moving in together?” Ziva asked.
“No, we just didn’t think he’d acknowledge it. But he showed up the second night we spent here with that, had a beer with us, and made it clear in his own way that he was willing to look the other way as long as it stayed out of work.”
Tim continued from there. “And we promised him that if things got out of hand, one of us would request transfer or resign. He nodded, said ‘good luck’, and left. And we’ve spent the last week trying to figure out how he figured it out.”
“He’s Gibbs,” Abby stated, “It’s the gut.”
Tony snorted. “That damned gut,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Why did you move in together? Seems rather quick, no?” Ziva inquired, sitting up straighter and crossing her legs under her.
“Well, if you think about it, Ziva, they’ve been seeing each other for, we’ll say, like five years, since Timmy was kind of mine most of the first one he was here. Then factor in the sex they’ve been having on and off for most of the last four years. It’s not like they don’t totally know what spending too much time together is going to be like. This way they don’t have to figure out whose place to go to.” Abby was gesturing with her hands, her tipsy state giving her movements more flair than usual.
Shaking his head indulgently, McGee answered. “My lease was up, his apartment building said no to a German shepherd full time, and Abby’s right, we’d already been spending a lot of time together. I was open to the idea, and add to that Tony’s desire to settle down…”
He trailed off when he caught the look Tony was shooting at him over his shoulder. The raised eyebrow was enough to warn him, but the comment made him grin. “God, McMouthy, ramble much?”
“What if NCIS makes the connection? The Director?” Ziva asked, and McGee could see her looking from one of them to the other.
Still looking at each other, Tim shrugged. “Same thing we told Gibbs. Either transfer or resign. They can’t fire one of us for being in a relationship, and I don’t think Vance would allow either of us to go anywhere. Either of us,” he repeated, squeezing the back of his partner’s neck for emphasis when Tony made a sound of disagreement.
“Oh god, this is getting too serious. Let’s go back to making out and getting the girls all hot and bothered.” Tony pulled himself up to sit next to Tim on the couch, smiling sexily. “Either that or we open another bottle.”
“I vote another bottle!” Abby agreed, climbing to her feet and rushing to the kitchen before anyone could stop her. “Don’t worry Timmy, only one more, we either all drink red or white.”
“Red!” was Tony’s answer before either Ziva or McGee could say anything. “Now, what were we talking about?” he asked, one hand wrapping around Tim’s head and other resting on his nearest thigh.
“We were talking about what we would do in the event our big gay love affair was discovered. And you decided to try and distract me with sex.”
“Is it working?” Tony wondered cheekily.
“Better than it should with two other people in the room,” he whispered, feeling the heat of Tony’s body close to his, the rush of dampness of his breath on his face. It was the clinking of glasses in the kitchen that distracted him. “Go make sure she doesn’t break anything, will you?” Pressing his lips to Tony’s he then shoved lightly at the other man, who continued smiling as he moved away.
Closing his eyes and sighing, Tim wiped a hand down his face, trying to calm himself. Gaining back what little control he thought he could, he opened his eyes on Ziva, who was once again watching him closely. Her brown eyes were reflective, shiny from something more than just too much alcohol or the somewhat late hour.
He watched her closely, too, wishing he could say the things that he’d wanted to say back in September when they’d gotten her home alive, when he and Tony had stopped seeing each other in favor of figuring out their own feelings. Tim had no idea what if any resolution regarding Ziva Tony had come to, and was doubtful he’d come to any; he himself certainly hadn’t.
Then time had passed, and the proverbial elephant in the room had either shrunk into nothingness, or it had decided to simply move on of its own accord, leaving all of them breathing deeper and ready to get on with life. Yet at the moment, Tim could hear the soft thundering of feet, and was worried if it wasn’t headed off at the pass, the elephant would make its presence known again.
McGee took a deep breath, still looking at his friend. “We didn’t know what to do without you here; we were kind of lost for a little while. He and I needed something, and we found it in each other. And I think we both still wonder how things might have been if, well, certain events had not occurred.”
Ziva bent her head to the side, still considering him with her big brown eyes. There was still some sound coming from the kitchen, Tony apparently fighting with the one cork of the night that had decided to be difficult. She smiled absently as Abby cheered him on in his struggle, never taking her eyes off of McGee. For his part, Tim was just hoping she understood his somewhat vague words, because he wasn’t sure how else to say it.
Again she nodded, one slow lowering than rising of her head. She smiled sleepily, and said, “It is the way it should be. I am very happy for you, both of you, Tim. I mean it. Let’s not worry about how things might have gone. Everything ended well, that is all that matters.”
Tony’s declaration of success from the kitchen was soon followed by the clink of glasses once again, and the two in the living room grinned at each other, a feeling of settled contentment between them. He knew that what had been said there had needed to be said, but he now also realized that it could have gone unsaid and the unacknowledged thoughts would have simply disappeared into nothing like so many things had in the last few years. This way was so much better, he decided, as Tony and Abby walked back in each carrying to nearly full glasses of red wine.
Abby moved over to Ziva with two glasses and handed her one, while Tony rejoined him on the couch and gave Tim the second glass he held. Settling down, Tony wrapped his now free left arm over Tim’s shoulders, leaning in and kissing Tim on his temple. Taking a sip from his glass, he then turned and met Tony’s lips with his own, the soft caress mixing well with the warmth of the extra wine.
The quiet giggle from across the room brought McGee’s eyes away from Tony, and he saw Abby sitting on the arm of Ziva’s chair, again smiling the same enchanted and excited smile. “How much more of a show could we get if I made you shoot that glass of wine?”
“Not much of one. Probie’d pass out if he pounded that much of anything alcoholic,” DiNozzo teased, drinking from his own glass. “Wait, we do still have that bottle of tequila, though!”
“Tony!”
“McGeek and his McSister drink tequila together. I usually have to pour him into bed after I’ve wrapped her up safely on the couch. It’s really quite shocking,” he said, smiling unflinchingly at the glower McGee was giving him.
“I thought Sarah couldn’t drink?” Abby drawled, leaning back next to Ziva.
“Oh, no, she can, you just have to hide her phone and disconnect all computers from the internet. Other than that, she’s a blast.”
“Drunk dialer, I used to be one of those. After I called Gibbs one too many times, he scared it out of me. Did you know calling him at four in the morning when he’s actually asleep and not passed out under a boat is a bad thing?” Abby asked distractedly, paying more attention to her wine than the looks everyone was giving her.
“Does she still flirt with you, Tony? I bet that is a sight,” Ziva stated, winking in McGee’s direction.
“Sarah finally stopped doing that when it was clear that Tony and I were more than just occasional bed partners-“
“The term is fuck-buddies, McGee,” Abby cut in.
“-but, yes, remind me to tell you the shades of red Tony turned when Sarah told him what she’d love to do to Agent Tommy, or what she’d love Officer Lisa to do to him.”
Laughing at the look of mortification that swept across Tony’s face, Ziva said, “Oh, I will most certainly not forget to ask about that. How about over breakfast?”
“Yeah, breakfast! Or, we could wait until Sarah’s feeling better and we could have a girls’ night and she could tell us!” Abby nudged the other woman with her shoulder, twitching excitedly.
“Drink you damn wine,” Tony groaned, having buried his face in Tim’s neck. “I hate you,” he added, only loud enough for the younger man to hear.
“Hey, you started it,” Tim whispered back.
“I did not,” he whined petulantly, mouth moving against the skin of Tim’s neck.
“Stop whining. It’s unbecoming,” Tim pointed out playfully, pulling back as Tony moved to look at him.
“And that is something I simply can’t be. You wouldn’t love me anymore.”
“No, I would still love you. I might respect you less, but I’d still love you."
“Good to know,” Tony finished, then emptied the glass of wine he still held in his right hand. It had been more than half full still, and when he was done, he stretched to set the now empty glass on the coffee table, never taking his eyes off of McGee.
Thinking for barely a moment, Tim raised his own glass and gulped the last of his own glass, vaguely aware this was not how one should drink wine that had cost him as much as he thinks that bottle had. But when one had Tony DiNozzo daring you with his big green eyes and wide smile, you couldn’t exactly deny him, or think about money. Tony took his now empty glass and set it next to his own, then moved in closer, nearly nose to nose.
“Tony, there are other people in the room,” he murmured.
“Hey, pay no attention to us,” Abby stage whispered, an eager tone to her voice.
Apparently, Tony was paying attention, if the wink he sent McGee was any sign, and he continued moving closer. His tongue came out and licked along McGee’s bottom lip, then closed in and sealed their mouths together for only a second. Pulling back just as slowly, he turned his head to the two women. “I think I’m getting tired,” he said, a sudden yet authentic yawn stretching his face.
“Tease,” Abby grumbled, finishing her wine. “That was very mean, Anthony DiNozzo.”
Beside her, Ziva was smiling and shaking her head. “What else do you expect, Abs?”
McGee was still looking at the other man, trying yet again to calm his body, or more specifically his dick. “Tony, you are such a pain in the ass,” he complained.
“You said that earlier, of course then it was actually an accurate description.” Tony jumped to his feet, wavering slightly, as McGee digested that.
Once the words sunk in, Tim growled, finding himself unfortunately speechless. Also unfortunate was that Abby had evidently worked out the meaning behind Tony’s words, and was once again laughing hysterically. Ziva was just watching the other woman as she laughed, having not clued in.
“Don’t worry, Ziva, if you don’t get it, I’ll explain it later,” Abby said through her laughter.
Nodding slowly, Ziva turned to McGee, who could do nothing more than sigh and bury his face in his hands.
“Okay, girls, if you need something to sleep in, feel free to pilfer what you may need. You can either share the spare bed or one of you can sleep out here, or with us…” Tony said, leaving off at his last suggestion.
Tim was suddenly on his feet and across the room, hands on his partner’s shoulders, partly trying to be threatening, partly trying to hold himself up. “I hope you realize how very much you are going to pay for tonight,” he warned the older man.
“I look forward to it.” Tony moved closer, settling his hands on McGee’s hips.
“He never does turn off that charm, does he?” Ziva asked dryly, watching them.
“Apparently not,” provided Abby. “Come on Ziva, let’s go steal some boxers and t-shirts to sleep in,” and she pulled the smaller woman from the room with her.
“I make life interesting, don’t I?”
Looking into those green eyes, surrounded by impossibly long eyelashes, and the most expressive face he’d ever encountered, McGee could say nothing else but the truth. “Yeah, you definitely do.”
**********
“I can hear Abby giggling.”
It was nearing 2 in the morning. It had taken a few minutes to get Abby to stop rifling through all of the drawers in their bedroom, and a few more to get Tony and Abby to stop throwing innuendos back and forth. But finally, after promising Abby that they would take both she and Ziva to the Ritz for caviar, to which both women agreed heartily, McGee had been able to drag the other man out of the other room and into theirs.
After stripping each other down, brushing their teeth, and taking care of various other nightly rituals, they were curled around each other in the center of the bed. Tony was dragging his fingertips through McGee’s hair, and McGee was running his hand across Tony’s chest. Tim was closer to sleep, riding the ocean tide he felt he was floating on, so he had missed the muffled sound Abby had made.
“We should be able to hear Ziva snoring shortly, unless she got that fixed,” Tony added tiredly.
“We’re where we’re supposed to be, right?” Tim asked suddenly, raising his head and finding Tony’s eyes in the dark.
The movement had brought Tony’s hand closer to McGee’s neck, so he simply rested it there, massaging gently, pulling him closer. “What, don’t believe Ziva?” he returned gently, proving he’d overheard the quiet conversation from the kitchen.
“I guess so, I-“ McGee started, then stopped, uncertain what to say.
Pulling once more, on both his neck and his hand, Tony hauled Tim to lie more on top of him, then tugging until their foreheads were touching. “I thought it was decided awhile ago that you were the more mature, put-together man in this bed.” The hand that wasn’t still holding McGee’s head in place was slowly running up and down his back, from shoulder to rear.
“Forgive me for feeling a little unsure,” Tim mumbled, though with no anger in his voice. “I guess I can’t always have my head on straight.”
“Eh, alcohol never has been your greatest accomplice.”
“That’s your job.”
“Exactly.” Tony rolled his head slightly, bringing their mouths together. They kissed, and Tim could feel everything Tony was trying to relay without words. And he realized Tony knew he still needed to hear it, though, when he pulled back. “We’re exactly where we’re supposed to be. Trust me,” he whispered tenderly.
And Tim was able to answer immediately. “I do.”