Fic: NCIS, These Twisted Games We Play, T/T, rating: PG
Wrote this about... two weeks ago? Maybe three? And then took my time going over it. It's not much, kind of fluffy though not super so. A repeat of Borderland on USA inspired it, so that hopefully tells you a little about what it's about.
Basically, Tim and Tony have a discussion about auto-nexting and "Claire", which leads to some sweetness. Rated PG for some bad words. Not beta-ed, but proofed and edited by me (about a dozen times). Any mistakes belong to me, but NCIS, unfortunately, does not. Neither does the title, which comes thanks to the Dave Matthews Band song The Space Between.
“I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to bring that up.” McGee jumped at the words, spinning around and glaring at the speaker hidden in the shadows of the dark parking lot. “It’s been more than a year. I’d assumed you decided to it wasn’t worth coming after me for all of that. You’re either better at holding a grudge than I thought, or you just saw an opportunity and took it.”
“A little of both, if you must know,” he replied, turning back to his car. He felt Tony move closer to him and could feel the man’s eyes on the back of his head, holding him in place.
Tim waited for Tony to say something, figuring the other man was just digging for the best jibe to throw his direction before walking to his own car. But the quiet kept stretching out, and McGee’s stomach, which had finally settled enough that he was hopeful about sleeping, started cart wheeling around his abdomen. A visit to the drug store for more Pepto was apparently going to be necessary.
“You made me look like an idiot,” Tony said, a smile in his voice that almost hid the slight tone of resentment.
Turning back around to face Tony, he said, “You did a pretty good job of that yourself with the Groucho glasses. And Ziva said something about a gas mask?” he added as mockingly as he could, immediately hating himself.
Tony groaned, avoiding Tim’s eyes. “I was just trying to find someone to talk to. Sue me.”
“On Random Chat? You’re surrounded by people to talk to, but you felt the need to rustle up new relationships with random teenagers and complete strangers on-line?”
“Yeah, except that both you and Ziva seem to love making me the butt of your jokes, and excuse me for wanting to try new things,” Tony shot back, one eyebrow arched in challenge. “Also? Don’t judge a person for doing exactly what you’ve been doing for years.”
“Playing games and chatting with fellow players is different than bouncing around trying to strike up conversations with any idiot with a webcam and internet access.”
“Says the man who got his hopes up about a woman he’d never met and didn’t know anything about,” Tony said, bouncing on his toes.
“That was you!” Tim shot back. “You don’t get to hold that over my head when you set the whole thing up.”
“I don’t get to hold that over your head, but you get to make me look like a jackass,” Tony stated flatly.
“You don’t actually need that much help in that arena, Tony. You’ve become entirely too good at doing that on your own.”
And that was when McGee knew he’d gone too far. At that moment, he realized he had become a snarky asshole, a person who seemed to enjoy watching someone he cared about squirm entirely too much. He was dumbstruck that he’d grown to savor seeing Tony flounder, had in fact allowed that to become something of a pastime of his recently.
Because he knew exactly why he’d come to feel that way. He knew why he’d gotten so upset about what Tony had done under the guise of “Claire the fifth-level sorceress”, why he’d been perfectly willing to step up to the base with Ziva and put down Tony any and all chance he got. The two of them had become better friends in the last couple of years, even before the emergence of “Claire”, especially over the summer Ziva was gone. But the jokes and pranks had turned into cracks and insults, mostly at Tony’s expense, one of the best people Tim had ever had the good fortune to meet. A man whose heart was only out-sized by Abby’s despite the role he liked to play. A man who would always have your back and would be there when needed, and could almost always make you smile when you needed it most.
And a man Tim had decided he’d been in love with since before the whole Claire thing, since Tony had been summarily ripped out of his life and placed on a ship in the middle of the ocean.
“So, what, this was all to make me sorry for teasing you?” Tony asked.
“No. Not really,” Tim said hesitantly. “I don’t know.”
“That’s one way to answer a direct question,” Tony said. He was still too far away to see that clearly in the night, but McGee could tell that Tony wanted an honest answer to his question. Problem was McGee wasn’t so sure his honest answer would be the one Tony wanted. He could try lying and say he’d just been having fun, like Tony had been doing when he’d pretended to be a woman and spent the weekend teasing him. He could lie and say that yes, he’d been carrying a grudge for a year and wanted to mess with him like he’d been messed with. But McGee had never been asked to go undercover for a reason; he was still a terrible liar.
“What if I told you the real reason I was cyber-flirting with you?” Tony offered, moving closer, his face coming into clearer focus as he approached Tim.
Tim was instantly suspicious. The kind of suspicious where you know you’re about to hear something that had crossed your mind but so many things had crossed your mind that it could be anything, and most of them bad. So he settled on trying to convince Tony he’d bought the story Ziva had told him, ignoring all of the other ideas his brain had thought up.
“Ziva said you were bored and that I’d annoyed you with all my talk about the game going live all week,” he said.
“Well, okay, at one point that was kind of appropriate. At the time,” began Tony, “I thought I had been bored and maybe a little wound up by your geeking out over some lame video game.”
“If this is what you’re going to tell me, I’m not going to fret about auto-nexting you,” Tim replied flatly. Damn all those suspicious thoughts.
“No, see, that’s what I said then. But I know, well, I figured it out a few days later, why I actually did it.”
“Huh?”
“Yes, I was bored that weekend. Yes, I created a profile so I could talk to you in the game. Yes, I started flirting with you. Yes, at the time,” and Tim could see Tony was on a roll now, “I knew of no other motive. It snuck up on me when I was horsing around the wilds of Arizona with Gibbs, having very little to do for hours but suck it up in the face of pain and watch the stars. It occurred to me, that, Hey! I actually enjoy watching McGee-McGeek out! It’s cute, and weirdly sexy. It was like a lightning bolt, made me sit up in the saddle, and once I was over the initial ache of using muscles I hadn’t used in a very long time, I accepted that stupid lightning bolt for what it was. It was telling me I was a jackass about what I’d done, but that I did in fact have ulterior motives.”
Tony was smiling solemnly, and Tim was waiting for the punch line, because there had to be a punch line. “Rule 4,” Tony added, as if that explained everything.
McGee had to rack his brain for a second. “If you have a secret, keep it to yourself,” he started.
“Second best, tell one other person; there is no third best,” Tony finished for him. “I told Ziva about what I’d been doing because, again, at the time I felt a little embarrassed about having let it get so far. But then things changed, I had my epiphany, so Abby knows the real story. First, Ziva knew what I thought was the truth. Now Abby does. So if you don’t trust me, you can call her and check up on me.”
McGee was still a little behind, the metaphors too heavy to pick-up without getting his brain in the right position and lifting carefully with his legs not his back. So he was still somewhere between the ‘stupid lightning bolt’ and Tony saying something about him not trusting Tony. And then Tim’s own little lightning bolt cracked, and he could feel his lips forming a silent, ‘Oh!’
Tony was making a confession, and being Tony was using Gibbs’ Rules as his version of a stack of Bibles. Tony was apparently of the same mind-set as Tim; Tony had feelings for him, but wasn’t coming out with it directly. He was just trying to prove his honesty by letting Tim know he could check up on him, and by using Gibbs’ Rules, Tony was showing him how very serious he was being.
Tim’s brain was still stuttering around his head, and his first impulse was to call Abby. But he didn’t need to check up on Tony, and he knew it. Plus he was pretty sure he’d have just freaked Abby out with his stammering, and she’d seemed really distracted since they’d gotten back from Mexico. So he nixed that idea.
Besides, he knew he didn’t have to call Abby to clear up anything. Tony was telling the truth or he wouldn’t be doing it in his vague and round-about way. Tim could feel it as if it were a solid weight between them, and he almost dropped his keys because it was taking everything he had to remain on his feet.
Tony took a step closer, and Tim followed his example. “You have a thing right back, don’t you?” Tony asked, making it sound like he knew the answer.
“Obviously,” Tim stated.
“So, it’s your turn. Why did you mess with me?” Tony asked, bringing them back to the beginning,
Tim took a moment to mull the situation over, recalling what Tony had opined about his motives at the start of the conversation. He recognized how they were right, if in the same twisted way Tony had just explained his own motives behind “Claire”.
“Yeah, I guess I was still holding a grudge. Except it wasn’t about you embarrassing me, it was about you not caring enough about me in the first place. That you were just making fun of me.” Tim closed his eyes for a second, then continued. “I saw an opportunity to make you look like an idiot like you did to me, and I took it.”
Tony frowned, looking disappointed. “Really?” he asked uncertainly.
Tim shrugged. “Yeah. Except there is a difference,” he added.
Tony arched an eyebrow at him, his turn to be suspicious. McGee thought about that “turning the table” saying, and absently wondered where it came from. “I was conscious of the fact I had a thing for you, I did it with malice aforethought. So I kind of feel like I, uh, owe you an apology,” Tim said, rubbing his neck shyly.
“What? Why?” Tony jerked his head like he’d been head-slapped.
“Because I knew I was doing it, and that it was a rotten thing to do but I did it anyway. So, I’m sorry,” he stated, shuffling forward and splitting the space between them. Tony was the one playing catch-up now, if the frozen expression of bewilderment meant anything, so he gave Tony a moment to collect whatever thoughts he was having.
A slow brightening of Tony’s face informed him he was done waiting. “Oh, I get it. You knew you were being bitchy, but my actions were driven by completely innocent-though-skewed motives. You were being vindictive, while I was just being clueless.”
All Tim could do was grin and shake his head, not even bothering to stifle the chuckle at Tony’s words. And then Tony was suddenly a lot closer, the space between them nearly non-existent, and they were just looking at each other.
Then Tony was reaching for him, pulling him closer and lining their bodies up. Tim’s hands found Tony’s hips, anchoring him in a moment he wasn’t willing to accept was happening quite yet. The space between them had disappeared, taking with it all the frustration Tim had been feeling for so long, even if he hadn’t been completely conscious of it. Now there was just suspense; it was pretty clear to him what was about to happen, but he wouldn’t believe it until it did.
“So, grudge over?” Tony asked merrily.
“What grudge?” Tim replied sincerely.
And finally, they were kissing. Tim felt another, smaller lightning bolt. It was like the tingle of static electricity, the gentle tickle you feel when you’re pulling clothes out of the drier. It ran up and down his spine and raised goose bumps on his skin. The kiss was sweet and gentle, their noses bumping as they leaned further into each other. When Tony lightly dug his teeth into Tim’s bottom lip, he decided Tony was enjoying the kiss as much as he was.
Tim felt a rush of confidence at that point, delighted when Tony met him in the middle and their tongues tangled playfully. Tony’s hand gripped his neck as his other one came to rest against Tim’s waist, and they held onto each other as the kiss deepened. Tony was warm and comfortable, and felt like he slotted perfectly into his personal space, just like he’d slotted perfectly into his life. Not one to believe in fate or the perfect mate, Tim couldn’t help but second guess that now. Tony had always just fit into his life, in spite of the teasing and the shenanigans and the wads of paper thrown at him across the cubicle. As Tony sucked on his tongue and dragged his own across Tim’s teeth, Tim decided to stop thinking, though, and just go with it.
A car horn honked somewhere nearby, and they parted lazily, foreheads coming to rest against each other. Tony’s hand was now resting against Tim’s head, scratching his scalp tenderly. They stood there holding onto each other like they’d done it before, like this wasn’t their first time.
A part of him wanted to resent that they’d taken so long to get here, that they’d wasted time pulling each other’s pigtails and stuffing their true interests deep down. But he couldn’t. They hadn’t wasted time, they’d just become friends, good friends. Outward appearances aside, they’d been there for each other, backed each other up, been a person to lean on when they were down, been the one they’d taken their anger out on. From Kate’s death to McGee’s shooting of the cop to Tony’s near-death by parking structure to Ziva’s exit from their lives, they’d been there.
And Tim didn’t want to let go, but his stomach chose that point to gurgle. Tony snorted. “Eaten much lately, McGurgle?” Tony joked, and Tim opened his eyes finally, finding Tony smiling tiredly at him.
“No,” replied Tim, regretfully stepping back from Tony and patting his stomach. “But I probably should.”
“Rice. Got me through whatever bug crawled into me in Arizona. Remind me to never go back there.”
They stood looking at each other, and Tim really wanted to ask, “What now?” But he refused to; he didn’t really want to know what came next, considering it probably didn’t involve what he hoped they both wanted. He’d rather just stay right there for awhile longer and pretend they had no other obligations.
But they did, and it was already late enough, and somehow Tim knew that next step they both wanted to take could wait.
“I’d invite myself over, but I’m not sure tonight would be the best time for our first dinner date,” Tony started, winking at him, and Tim had to roll his eyes at Tony’s prescience. “Though, really, it wouldn’t be our first dinner date, if you think about.”
Tim crooked his head questioningly. “I don’t know if I can consider our going to dinner every once in awhile dating. Especially since we were hands off and usually discussed work, movies, or sports.”
“Eh, that just means we know we have stuff to talk about. We’re already past that getting to know each other phase. Now we just get to get to know each other,” Tony said suggestively, eyebrows bouncing.
“When?” Tim asked, trying to sound confident and nearly failing.
Tony raised his hand again, settling it against the side of Tim’s neck, his thumb running against his jaw. “Hopefully soon. Unless we get a case that draws out the suspense,” Tony said, smiling.
Tim leaned into Tony’s. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed. But the sooner the better, right?”
Tony nodded, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. “Once you’re one-hundred percent, dinner, my place. We’ll talk, and see where things go.”
Tim agreed. “Where do you think things will go?” he asked.
“Hopefully somewhere similar to where we’re heading now, to bed. But with any luck, we’ll be doing it together,” Tony replied, kissing him again.
Tim mirrored Tony’s position, raising one of his own hands to cradle the side of Tony’s head, holding him close another few seconds. When they parted, Tim dragged his fingers across Tony’s lips, saying, “See you in the morning.”
“Right,” Tony said. “Get better, and fast,” Tony ordered him, and started walking away backwards with his eyes still on McGee instead of where he was going.
“Night, Tony,” Tim called. “Now turn around before you trip over something.”
Tony complied with a sloppy salute, and Tim watched him for before getting into his car. As he drove off the Yard, following Tony until they turned in opposite directions, Tim couldn’t help but think about this new course his and Tony’s lives seem to have unexpectedly and swiftly taken. He wondered what tomorrow morning was going to be like, if there was going to be uncomfortable silences or furtive looks across the bullpen.
There probably would be, and Ziva would probably peer at them from her desk inquisitively while Gibbs doled out a head slap or two. They worked with a few very perceptive people, likely to pick up on any new attitudes or tones in their interactions. That was something he and Tony would have to discuss, how to act at the office, who to let in on their secret before anything slipped.
But Tim couldn’t really worry about that. Tony would still be Tony, and he would still be McGee, and Tim would do everything in his power to make sure those two things stayed the same. Because he already loved Tony, and everything else was just gravy. He might have a harder time watching him bend over to pick something up from time to time, but he quashed that thought before it could go further. No reason to get a jumpstart on any physical distractions that might come with getting closer physically before it even happened.
And Tim was ready for that, ready to get to know Tony in ways he’d only allowed himself to dream about when he needed a pick-me-up, or was just too depressed about the situation that he couldn’t fight his desires anymore. But in the end, this was Tony; the wait would be worth it. Of that he had no doubt.
This entry was originally posted at http://harempriestess.dreamwidth.org/23574.html. Comment on either site.
Basically, Tim and Tony have a discussion about auto-nexting and "Claire", which leads to some sweetness. Rated PG for some bad words. Not beta-ed, but proofed and edited by me (about a dozen times). Any mistakes belong to me, but NCIS, unfortunately, does not. Neither does the title, which comes thanks to the Dave Matthews Band song The Space Between.
“I’ve been wondering if you were ever going to bring that up.” McGee jumped at the words, spinning around and glaring at the speaker hidden in the shadows of the dark parking lot. “It’s been more than a year. I’d assumed you decided to it wasn’t worth coming after me for all of that. You’re either better at holding a grudge than I thought, or you just saw an opportunity and took it.”
“A little of both, if you must know,” he replied, turning back to his car. He felt Tony move closer to him and could feel the man’s eyes on the back of his head, holding him in place.
Tim waited for Tony to say something, figuring the other man was just digging for the best jibe to throw his direction before walking to his own car. But the quiet kept stretching out, and McGee’s stomach, which had finally settled enough that he was hopeful about sleeping, started cart wheeling around his abdomen. A visit to the drug store for more Pepto was apparently going to be necessary.
“You made me look like an idiot,” Tony said, a smile in his voice that almost hid the slight tone of resentment.
Turning back around to face Tony, he said, “You did a pretty good job of that yourself with the Groucho glasses. And Ziva said something about a gas mask?” he added as mockingly as he could, immediately hating himself.
Tony groaned, avoiding Tim’s eyes. “I was just trying to find someone to talk to. Sue me.”
“On Random Chat? You’re surrounded by people to talk to, but you felt the need to rustle up new relationships with random teenagers and complete strangers on-line?”
“Yeah, except that both you and Ziva seem to love making me the butt of your jokes, and excuse me for wanting to try new things,” Tony shot back, one eyebrow arched in challenge. “Also? Don’t judge a person for doing exactly what you’ve been doing for years.”
“Playing games and chatting with fellow players is different than bouncing around trying to strike up conversations with any idiot with a webcam and internet access.”
“Says the man who got his hopes up about a woman he’d never met and didn’t know anything about,” Tony said, bouncing on his toes.
“That was you!” Tim shot back. “You don’t get to hold that over my head when you set the whole thing up.”
“I don’t get to hold that over your head, but you get to make me look like a jackass,” Tony stated flatly.
“You don’t actually need that much help in that arena, Tony. You’ve become entirely too good at doing that on your own.”
And that was when McGee knew he’d gone too far. At that moment, he realized he had become a snarky asshole, a person who seemed to enjoy watching someone he cared about squirm entirely too much. He was dumbstruck that he’d grown to savor seeing Tony flounder, had in fact allowed that to become something of a pastime of his recently.
Because he knew exactly why he’d come to feel that way. He knew why he’d gotten so upset about what Tony had done under the guise of “Claire the fifth-level sorceress”, why he’d been perfectly willing to step up to the base with Ziva and put down Tony any and all chance he got. The two of them had become better friends in the last couple of years, even before the emergence of “Claire”, especially over the summer Ziva was gone. But the jokes and pranks had turned into cracks and insults, mostly at Tony’s expense, one of the best people Tim had ever had the good fortune to meet. A man whose heart was only out-sized by Abby’s despite the role he liked to play. A man who would always have your back and would be there when needed, and could almost always make you smile when you needed it most.
And a man Tim had decided he’d been in love with since before the whole Claire thing, since Tony had been summarily ripped out of his life and placed on a ship in the middle of the ocean.
“So, what, this was all to make me sorry for teasing you?” Tony asked.
“No. Not really,” Tim said hesitantly. “I don’t know.”
“That’s one way to answer a direct question,” Tony said. He was still too far away to see that clearly in the night, but McGee could tell that Tony wanted an honest answer to his question. Problem was McGee wasn’t so sure his honest answer would be the one Tony wanted. He could try lying and say he’d just been having fun, like Tony had been doing when he’d pretended to be a woman and spent the weekend teasing him. He could lie and say that yes, he’d been carrying a grudge for a year and wanted to mess with him like he’d been messed with. But McGee had never been asked to go undercover for a reason; he was still a terrible liar.
“What if I told you the real reason I was cyber-flirting with you?” Tony offered, moving closer, his face coming into clearer focus as he approached Tim.
Tim was instantly suspicious. The kind of suspicious where you know you’re about to hear something that had crossed your mind but so many things had crossed your mind that it could be anything, and most of them bad. So he settled on trying to convince Tony he’d bought the story Ziva had told him, ignoring all of the other ideas his brain had thought up.
“Ziva said you were bored and that I’d annoyed you with all my talk about the game going live all week,” he said.
“Well, okay, at one point that was kind of appropriate. At the time,” began Tony, “I thought I had been bored and maybe a little wound up by your geeking out over some lame video game.”
“If this is what you’re going to tell me, I’m not going to fret about auto-nexting you,” Tim replied flatly. Damn all those suspicious thoughts.
“No, see, that’s what I said then. But I know, well, I figured it out a few days later, why I actually did it.”
“Huh?”
“Yes, I was bored that weekend. Yes, I created a profile so I could talk to you in the game. Yes, I started flirting with you. Yes, at the time,” and Tim could see Tony was on a roll now, “I knew of no other motive. It snuck up on me when I was horsing around the wilds of Arizona with Gibbs, having very little to do for hours but suck it up in the face of pain and watch the stars. It occurred to me, that, Hey! I actually enjoy watching McGee-McGeek out! It’s cute, and weirdly sexy. It was like a lightning bolt, made me sit up in the saddle, and once I was over the initial ache of using muscles I hadn’t used in a very long time, I accepted that stupid lightning bolt for what it was. It was telling me I was a jackass about what I’d done, but that I did in fact have ulterior motives.”
Tony was smiling solemnly, and Tim was waiting for the punch line, because there had to be a punch line. “Rule 4,” Tony added, as if that explained everything.
McGee had to rack his brain for a second. “If you have a secret, keep it to yourself,” he started.
“Second best, tell one other person; there is no third best,” Tony finished for him. “I told Ziva about what I’d been doing because, again, at the time I felt a little embarrassed about having let it get so far. But then things changed, I had my epiphany, so Abby knows the real story. First, Ziva knew what I thought was the truth. Now Abby does. So if you don’t trust me, you can call her and check up on me.”
McGee was still a little behind, the metaphors too heavy to pick-up without getting his brain in the right position and lifting carefully with his legs not his back. So he was still somewhere between the ‘stupid lightning bolt’ and Tony saying something about him not trusting Tony. And then Tim’s own little lightning bolt cracked, and he could feel his lips forming a silent, ‘Oh!’
Tony was making a confession, and being Tony was using Gibbs’ Rules as his version of a stack of Bibles. Tony was apparently of the same mind-set as Tim; Tony had feelings for him, but wasn’t coming out with it directly. He was just trying to prove his honesty by letting Tim know he could check up on him, and by using Gibbs’ Rules, Tony was showing him how very serious he was being.
Tim’s brain was still stuttering around his head, and his first impulse was to call Abby. But he didn’t need to check up on Tony, and he knew it. Plus he was pretty sure he’d have just freaked Abby out with his stammering, and she’d seemed really distracted since they’d gotten back from Mexico. So he nixed that idea.
Besides, he knew he didn’t have to call Abby to clear up anything. Tony was telling the truth or he wouldn’t be doing it in his vague and round-about way. Tim could feel it as if it were a solid weight between them, and he almost dropped his keys because it was taking everything he had to remain on his feet.
Tony took a step closer, and Tim followed his example. “You have a thing right back, don’t you?” Tony asked, making it sound like he knew the answer.
“Obviously,” Tim stated.
“So, it’s your turn. Why did you mess with me?” Tony asked, bringing them back to the beginning,
Tim took a moment to mull the situation over, recalling what Tony had opined about his motives at the start of the conversation. He recognized how they were right, if in the same twisted way Tony had just explained his own motives behind “Claire”.
“Yeah, I guess I was still holding a grudge. Except it wasn’t about you embarrassing me, it was about you not caring enough about me in the first place. That you were just making fun of me.” Tim closed his eyes for a second, then continued. “I saw an opportunity to make you look like an idiot like you did to me, and I took it.”
Tony frowned, looking disappointed. “Really?” he asked uncertainly.
Tim shrugged. “Yeah. Except there is a difference,” he added.
Tony arched an eyebrow at him, his turn to be suspicious. McGee thought about that “turning the table” saying, and absently wondered where it came from. “I was conscious of the fact I had a thing for you, I did it with malice aforethought. So I kind of feel like I, uh, owe you an apology,” Tim said, rubbing his neck shyly.
“What? Why?” Tony jerked his head like he’d been head-slapped.
“Because I knew I was doing it, and that it was a rotten thing to do but I did it anyway. So, I’m sorry,” he stated, shuffling forward and splitting the space between them. Tony was the one playing catch-up now, if the frozen expression of bewilderment meant anything, so he gave Tony a moment to collect whatever thoughts he was having.
A slow brightening of Tony’s face informed him he was done waiting. “Oh, I get it. You knew you were being bitchy, but my actions were driven by completely innocent-though-skewed motives. You were being vindictive, while I was just being clueless.”
All Tim could do was grin and shake his head, not even bothering to stifle the chuckle at Tony’s words. And then Tony was suddenly a lot closer, the space between them nearly non-existent, and they were just looking at each other.
Then Tony was reaching for him, pulling him closer and lining their bodies up. Tim’s hands found Tony’s hips, anchoring him in a moment he wasn’t willing to accept was happening quite yet. The space between them had disappeared, taking with it all the frustration Tim had been feeling for so long, even if he hadn’t been completely conscious of it. Now there was just suspense; it was pretty clear to him what was about to happen, but he wouldn’t believe it until it did.
“So, grudge over?” Tony asked merrily.
“What grudge?” Tim replied sincerely.
And finally, they were kissing. Tim felt another, smaller lightning bolt. It was like the tingle of static electricity, the gentle tickle you feel when you’re pulling clothes out of the drier. It ran up and down his spine and raised goose bumps on his skin. The kiss was sweet and gentle, their noses bumping as they leaned further into each other. When Tony lightly dug his teeth into Tim’s bottom lip, he decided Tony was enjoying the kiss as much as he was.
Tim felt a rush of confidence at that point, delighted when Tony met him in the middle and their tongues tangled playfully. Tony’s hand gripped his neck as his other one came to rest against Tim’s waist, and they held onto each other as the kiss deepened. Tony was warm and comfortable, and felt like he slotted perfectly into his personal space, just like he’d slotted perfectly into his life. Not one to believe in fate or the perfect mate, Tim couldn’t help but second guess that now. Tony had always just fit into his life, in spite of the teasing and the shenanigans and the wads of paper thrown at him across the cubicle. As Tony sucked on his tongue and dragged his own across Tim’s teeth, Tim decided to stop thinking, though, and just go with it.
A car horn honked somewhere nearby, and they parted lazily, foreheads coming to rest against each other. Tony’s hand was now resting against Tim’s head, scratching his scalp tenderly. They stood there holding onto each other like they’d done it before, like this wasn’t their first time.
A part of him wanted to resent that they’d taken so long to get here, that they’d wasted time pulling each other’s pigtails and stuffing their true interests deep down. But he couldn’t. They hadn’t wasted time, they’d just become friends, good friends. Outward appearances aside, they’d been there for each other, backed each other up, been a person to lean on when they were down, been the one they’d taken their anger out on. From Kate’s death to McGee’s shooting of the cop to Tony’s near-death by parking structure to Ziva’s exit from their lives, they’d been there.
And Tim didn’t want to let go, but his stomach chose that point to gurgle. Tony snorted. “Eaten much lately, McGurgle?” Tony joked, and Tim opened his eyes finally, finding Tony smiling tiredly at him.
“No,” replied Tim, regretfully stepping back from Tony and patting his stomach. “But I probably should.”
“Rice. Got me through whatever bug crawled into me in Arizona. Remind me to never go back there.”
They stood looking at each other, and Tim really wanted to ask, “What now?” But he refused to; he didn’t really want to know what came next, considering it probably didn’t involve what he hoped they both wanted. He’d rather just stay right there for awhile longer and pretend they had no other obligations.
But they did, and it was already late enough, and somehow Tim knew that next step they both wanted to take could wait.
“I’d invite myself over, but I’m not sure tonight would be the best time for our first dinner date,” Tony started, winking at him, and Tim had to roll his eyes at Tony’s prescience. “Though, really, it wouldn’t be our first dinner date, if you think about.”
Tim crooked his head questioningly. “I don’t know if I can consider our going to dinner every once in awhile dating. Especially since we were hands off and usually discussed work, movies, or sports.”
“Eh, that just means we know we have stuff to talk about. We’re already past that getting to know each other phase. Now we just get to get to know each other,” Tony said suggestively, eyebrows bouncing.
“When?” Tim asked, trying to sound confident and nearly failing.
Tony raised his hand again, settling it against the side of Tim’s neck, his thumb running against his jaw. “Hopefully soon. Unless we get a case that draws out the suspense,” Tony said, smiling.
Tim leaned into Tony’s. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed. But the sooner the better, right?”
Tony nodded, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. “Once you’re one-hundred percent, dinner, my place. We’ll talk, and see where things go.”
Tim agreed. “Where do you think things will go?” he asked.
“Hopefully somewhere similar to where we’re heading now, to bed. But with any luck, we’ll be doing it together,” Tony replied, kissing him again.
Tim mirrored Tony’s position, raising one of his own hands to cradle the side of Tony’s head, holding him close another few seconds. When they parted, Tim dragged his fingers across Tony’s lips, saying, “See you in the morning.”
“Right,” Tony said. “Get better, and fast,” Tony ordered him, and started walking away backwards with his eyes still on McGee instead of where he was going.
“Night, Tony,” Tim called. “Now turn around before you trip over something.”
Tony complied with a sloppy salute, and Tim watched him for before getting into his car. As he drove off the Yard, following Tony until they turned in opposite directions, Tim couldn’t help but think about this new course his and Tony’s lives seem to have unexpectedly and swiftly taken. He wondered what tomorrow morning was going to be like, if there was going to be uncomfortable silences or furtive looks across the bullpen.
There probably would be, and Ziva would probably peer at them from her desk inquisitively while Gibbs doled out a head slap or two. They worked with a few very perceptive people, likely to pick up on any new attitudes or tones in their interactions. That was something he and Tony would have to discuss, how to act at the office, who to let in on their secret before anything slipped.
But Tim couldn’t really worry about that. Tony would still be Tony, and he would still be McGee, and Tim would do everything in his power to make sure those two things stayed the same. Because he already loved Tony, and everything else was just gravy. He might have a harder time watching him bend over to pick something up from time to time, but he quashed that thought before it could go further. No reason to get a jumpstart on any physical distractions that might come with getting closer physically before it even happened.
And Tim was ready for that, ready to get to know Tony in ways he’d only allowed himself to dream about when he needed a pick-me-up, or was just too depressed about the situation that he couldn’t fight his desires anymore. But in the end, this was Tony; the wait would be worth it. Of that he had no doubt.
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