Exhibitionism, NCIS, DiNozzo/McGee, R
Title: Exhibitionism
Rating: Soft R
Pairing/Character: DiNozzo/McGee, mention of Ziva/Abby
Summary: All this trouble from one little hickey.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
A/N: Written for the Five Things Meme. one_windiga asked for Biting/Marking and the boys were happy to oblige.
He'd seen the glances all day, the knowing looks, the smiles; he'd even had a pat on the back from Symonds two cubicles over. Ziva had smirked, Gibbs was pointedly ignoring it and the less said about Tony, the better. But now he'd had to drop some paperwork off with Abby and this was unavoidable.
She took one look at the bruise on his neck and turned to search the drawers in her desk. Not exactly the reaction he'd expected and, to be honest, he was a little worried about what she was looking for.
"Here," she said, a small white tube in her outstretched hand.
"What is it?" McGee asked, suspiciously, hoping and praying that she hadn't caught on quite that quickly.
"Arnica cream, for your hickey," Abby explained, and McGee let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.
"It's not a-" he began.
"No-one believes you, McGee." Abby interrupted. "So sit down and tell Auntie Abby what’s new." She patted the stool next to her at the table.
McGee tried again. "Abby I'm not-"
"Sit. Down."
His legs listened while his brain protested.
"Let's begin with who she is. Basic description, any known genetic illnesses in the family, things like that."
McGee began to describe the first woman who came to mind, keeping the details as vague as Abby would allow. Ten minutes in, he began to relax. As it turned out, that was his first mistake.
"So she's not a gamer?"
"No, definitely not. He wouldn't know a Paladin from-"
"He?"
Oh God, he realised, I just said 'He'.
"She," McGee corrected.
"No, you said he." Abby broke into a smile. If he had to categorise it, it would be the 'I've just tricked you into revealing information which I will now use for my benefit' grin.
"I meant ‘she’, slip of the tongue." Backpedalling furiously was getting him nowhere but he had no idea what else to do.
"You finally got a boyfriend?" Abby teased.
For the love of God, he thought, please don't ask who. And please don't-hold on.
"Finally? Why finally?" McGee was halfway between confused and indignant.
"McGee," Abby patted him on the knee in a consolatory manner, "you have enough trouble dating girls, I'd all but given up on you ever actually getting that far with a guy."
"Gee thanks, Abby." McGee settled on pissed off.
"Oh come on, Tim, I-" The videophone interrupted Abby, which McGee thought made a nice change.
Ducky appeared on the screen, querying a toxicology result and McGee took the opportunity to slip away. It was a temporary reprieve; Abby would find him again soon enough. He just needed to compose himself and work out what the hell he was going to say. He headed for the men's room.
Tony was clearly not aware of his need for peace. Tony, it would appear, was more interested in following him into the bathroom and pushing him back into the stall. The door slammed into the wall and Tony was pressing him into it before he could protest.
God he hoped the other stalls were as empty as they looked.
Tony's elbows banged on the opposite wall as he quickly stripped McGee of his jacket, easing open McGee's shirt button by button. Between his concern over their exposed position and the thoroughly distracting sensation of Tony's hands making every attempt to push him through the slope of the door, he failed to notice Tony's lips on his for a second.
A sharp bite corrected that, and Tony took full advantage of the opening when he gasped in protest.
"You're a damn tease, McShowoff," Tony said, breaking away just long enough to breathe the words in McGee's ear. McGee in turn couldn't help but smile.
"Don't know what you're talking about Tony," he lied. Because he knew as well as Tony did that, if he'd wanted to keep the bruise covered he could have. He wore turtle-necks all the time, and it was the right time of year to pull out a scarf. But he had no intention of hiding it. He liked people seeing it, liked to know that he was clearly marked as taken.
Tony didn't bother to respond, just wrenched open the buttons on McGee’s shirt and latched on to his newly-bared chest and sucked down. McGee could feel the soft prickle as the blood flowed up to his skin, the sharp edges of Tony's teeth as he scraped a perimeter around the area, holding the flesh in place.
McGee bit back a demand for more, harder, for Tony to draw blood and leave a bruise that wouldn't fade for days, weeks even. He wanted to look down and see it, feel the tug of it on his skin when he twisted just the right way. The constant reminder that he, Timothy McGee, could make Tony completely lose his shit.
But not here, and definitely not now.
He stroked the fingers of one hand up Tony's neck and into his hair, pulling back sharply on it and wincing as Tony's teeth dragged at his skin before releasing it.
"Later," he said firmly.
"Yeah?" A crooked eyebrow told McGee that 'later' this would look like a chaste kiss on the cheek by comparison.
"Yeah." And because it was only fair to return the favor, "I might even beg."
Tony smirked and kissed McGee, hard but quick. He stepped out of the stall leaving McGee still leaning against the door. A soft sound of shifting fabric suggested he was neatening himself up before he left. McGee waited for the door to swing closed, listened for steps in case anyone had come in, then walked to the mirror himself.
His shirt was creased and bunched where Tony had gripped it. He buttoned it back up and smoothed it out as best he could before retrieving his jacket from the top of the cistern. That covered the worst of it. All the physical signs of exertion were fading and a few quick readjustments to his hair meant he could leave without any sign of what had happened. Just one of the many skills he never knew he'd need to acquire.
A few short paces later and he was almost at the bullpen. The faint sound of whispered voices stopped him and he whipped out his cell, ostensibly checking something but allowing him to stand and listen to the hushed conversation around the corner.
"C'mon, I got that it was a guy out of him!"
"The deal is admitting that it's Tony. I will keep my twenty dollars, thank you."
McGee turned on the video function and carefully positioned the camera so that he could see around the corner. Ziva, talking to Abby. Talking incredibly closely to Abby, who was grinning.
"You're a hard task mistress, Ziva David."
Ziva bent forward to whisper in her ear. McGee couldn't make it out but he knew the giggle from Abby intimately. Ziva left and Abby continued on her way, neither thankfully using the hallway McGee was in.
Well that was unexpected.
Not that he was enough of a hypocrite to be shocked by it, but he was sure as heck surprised.
Two things struck him. One was the term ‘mutually assured destruction’, which should ensure that neither he nor Tony would be on the receiving end of a 'Rule 12' lecture.
The other was that, tonight, at a time of his choosing, he got to tell Tony all about it.
Rating: Soft R
Pairing/Character: DiNozzo/McGee, mention of Ziva/Abby
Summary: All this trouble from one little hickey.
Warnings/Spoilers: None
A/N: Written for the Five Things Meme. one_windiga asked for Biting/Marking and the boys were happy to oblige.
He'd seen the glances all day, the knowing looks, the smiles; he'd even had a pat on the back from Symonds two cubicles over. Ziva had smirked, Gibbs was pointedly ignoring it and the less said about Tony, the better. But now he'd had to drop some paperwork off with Abby and this was unavoidable.
She took one look at the bruise on his neck and turned to search the drawers in her desk. Not exactly the reaction he'd expected and, to be honest, he was a little worried about what she was looking for.
"Here," she said, a small white tube in her outstretched hand.
"What is it?" McGee asked, suspiciously, hoping and praying that she hadn't caught on quite that quickly.
"Arnica cream, for your hickey," Abby explained, and McGee let out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.
"It's not a-" he began.
"No-one believes you, McGee." Abby interrupted. "So sit down and tell Auntie Abby what’s new." She patted the stool next to her at the table.
McGee tried again. "Abby I'm not-"
"Sit. Down."
His legs listened while his brain protested.
"Let's begin with who she is. Basic description, any known genetic illnesses in the family, things like that."
McGee began to describe the first woman who came to mind, keeping the details as vague as Abby would allow. Ten minutes in, he began to relax. As it turned out, that was his first mistake.
"So she's not a gamer?"
"No, definitely not. He wouldn't know a Paladin from-"
"He?"
Oh God, he realised, I just said 'He'.
"She," McGee corrected.
"No, you said he." Abby broke into a smile. If he had to categorise it, it would be the 'I've just tricked you into revealing information which I will now use for my benefit' grin.
"I meant ‘she’, slip of the tongue." Backpedalling furiously was getting him nowhere but he had no idea what else to do.
"You finally got a boyfriend?" Abby teased.
For the love of God, he thought, please don't ask who. And please don't-hold on.
"Finally? Why finally?" McGee was halfway between confused and indignant.
"McGee," Abby patted him on the knee in a consolatory manner, "you have enough trouble dating girls, I'd all but given up on you ever actually getting that far with a guy."
"Gee thanks, Abby." McGee settled on pissed off.
"Oh come on, Tim, I-" The videophone interrupted Abby, which McGee thought made a nice change.
Ducky appeared on the screen, querying a toxicology result and McGee took the opportunity to slip away. It was a temporary reprieve; Abby would find him again soon enough. He just needed to compose himself and work out what the hell he was going to say. He headed for the men's room.
Tony was clearly not aware of his need for peace. Tony, it would appear, was more interested in following him into the bathroom and pushing him back into the stall. The door slammed into the wall and Tony was pressing him into it before he could protest.
God he hoped the other stalls were as empty as they looked.
Tony's elbows banged on the opposite wall as he quickly stripped McGee of his jacket, easing open McGee's shirt button by button. Between his concern over their exposed position and the thoroughly distracting sensation of Tony's hands making every attempt to push him through the slope of the door, he failed to notice Tony's lips on his for a second.
A sharp bite corrected that, and Tony took full advantage of the opening when he gasped in protest.
"You're a damn tease, McShowoff," Tony said, breaking away just long enough to breathe the words in McGee's ear. McGee in turn couldn't help but smile.
"Don't know what you're talking about Tony," he lied. Because he knew as well as Tony did that, if he'd wanted to keep the bruise covered he could have. He wore turtle-necks all the time, and it was the right time of year to pull out a scarf. But he had no intention of hiding it. He liked people seeing it, liked to know that he was clearly marked as taken.
Tony didn't bother to respond, just wrenched open the buttons on McGee’s shirt and latched on to his newly-bared chest and sucked down. McGee could feel the soft prickle as the blood flowed up to his skin, the sharp edges of Tony's teeth as he scraped a perimeter around the area, holding the flesh in place.
McGee bit back a demand for more, harder, for Tony to draw blood and leave a bruise that wouldn't fade for days, weeks even. He wanted to look down and see it, feel the tug of it on his skin when he twisted just the right way. The constant reminder that he, Timothy McGee, could make Tony completely lose his shit.
But not here, and definitely not now.
He stroked the fingers of one hand up Tony's neck and into his hair, pulling back sharply on it and wincing as Tony's teeth dragged at his skin before releasing it.
"Later," he said firmly.
"Yeah?" A crooked eyebrow told McGee that 'later' this would look like a chaste kiss on the cheek by comparison.
"Yeah." And because it was only fair to return the favor, "I might even beg."
Tony smirked and kissed McGee, hard but quick. He stepped out of the stall leaving McGee still leaning against the door. A soft sound of shifting fabric suggested he was neatening himself up before he left. McGee waited for the door to swing closed, listened for steps in case anyone had come in, then walked to the mirror himself.
His shirt was creased and bunched where Tony had gripped it. He buttoned it back up and smoothed it out as best he could before retrieving his jacket from the top of the cistern. That covered the worst of it. All the physical signs of exertion were fading and a few quick readjustments to his hair meant he could leave without any sign of what had happened. Just one of the many skills he never knew he'd need to acquire.
A few short paces later and he was almost at the bullpen. The faint sound of whispered voices stopped him and he whipped out his cell, ostensibly checking something but allowing him to stand and listen to the hushed conversation around the corner.
"C'mon, I got that it was a guy out of him!"
"The deal is admitting that it's Tony. I will keep my twenty dollars, thank you."
McGee turned on the video function and carefully positioned the camera so that he could see around the corner. Ziva, talking to Abby. Talking incredibly closely to Abby, who was grinning.
"You're a hard task mistress, Ziva David."
Ziva bent forward to whisper in her ear. McGee couldn't make it out but he knew the giggle from Abby intimately. Ziva left and Abby continued on her way, neither thankfully using the hallway McGee was in.
Well that was unexpected.
Not that he was enough of a hypocrite to be shocked by it, but he was sure as heck surprised.
Two things struck him. One was the term ‘mutually assured destruction’, which should ensure that neither he nor Tony would be on the receiving end of a 'Rule 12' lecture.
The other was that, tonight, at a time of his choosing, he got to tell Tony all about it.