Smooth, NC-17, NCIS
Title: Smooth
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/character: McGee/DiNozzo
Summary: "If you sit back and do exactly as I say, everything will be fine."
Warnings/Spoilers: None
A/N: Written for kink_bingo. Prompt is Shaving. Part four of five in the Carte Blanche series. Much thanks to karaokegal for a fabulous beta.
Tony stretched out on the couch, naked to the waist and still pleased with himself. Well, who wouldn’t be? There had been great morning sex, bagels and coffee from the deli down the street, all followed by an afternoon of lazing around, doing nothing much while McGee played on his computer. Listening to Elf Lord command his elflets was both amusing and extraordinarily geeky.
Not to mention mildly arousing when McGee ordered them around in that badass tone Tony’d found out he had.
This was the life.
Or it was until Team Elf had given up for the night and McGee had disappeared into the bathroom with a glint in his eye. Five minutes later, he’d come back and that’s when things had started going downhill
“What is this, the 1840s?” Tony had tried for light-hearted, but faltered a little in the face of a truly unnerving scenario.
He stared at the tray in as McGee put it down in front of him. Jar of white, smooth-looking liquid that he suspected was not whipped cream. Old-time shaving brush. Goddamn straight razor that was going no where near any part of him. Girly looking moisturizer.
"If you sit back and do exactly as I say, everything will be fine." McGee was using the same tone of voice that he used for talking down jumpers.
Not a great job of hiding the fear in your voice, there, DiNozzo.
Stepping round the table, McGee leaned over Tony to kiss him softly, probably designed to calm him down. And, okay, he wasn’t doing a bad job but Tony was still aware of that fact that McGee was un-buttoning his fly. Tony shifted upwards to let McGee pull his pants down because, while he really didn’t want to be doing this, he was a DiNozzo and DiNozzos kept their promises.
This one did, at least.
McGee pulled back and turned to the table, picking up the old fashioned shaving cream. He began to whip it up with a technique that Tony would be willing to swear he'd learned from the movies. Any minute now he'd ask if Tony wanted something for the weekend or start singing about the lovely pies from next door.
“Okay, I need you to spread your legs.”
Tony hesitated
"Wow, normally I barely get to finish the question. What's wrong, Tony?" McGee's expression was far too smug and evil for Tony's liking. "Don't you trust me?"
"I have a rule to never trust a man with a blade and his eyes on my dick." It was a new rule, Tony would concede, but a valid one all the same.
"Well, we're just going to have to break that rule tonight.”
McGee pushed Tony’s shoulders back into the seat, while shifting him forward at the waist. “Lean back and put your legs on either side of the table."
It wasn't strictly uncomfortable, but there was a lingering sensation that warned him if he tried to stay like this for long, he'd be sore in the morning.
Who was he kidding? Aching muscles were the least of his worries right now.
"There we go!" The evil had gone but the smug remained, joined now by the patronizing tone that McGee had to know grated on Tony's nerves.
Asshole.
Or, you know, maybe not. Even with a haze of dread hanging over him, the sensation of the foam-coated brush against his skin was incredibly erotic, not to mention the sight of McGee kneeling between his legs, looking intent.
Now if only he could convince McGee to stay there.
"McGee, how much-"
McGee stopped him in his tracks. "I'm not doing this because it's fun, Tony."
Tony snorted, because like hell he wasn't.
"I'm not!" McGee protested, before what Tony could imagine a therapist calling a deep, cleansing breath "Frankly, Tony, I'm sick of picking your hairs from out of my teeth. You said anything; this is anything.” McGee turned to the tray and Tony knew that there was only one thing he could be going for at this point. “Now don't move, or this could end badly."
“Tim,” Tony said, inwardly a little surprised because it was the first time he’d used McGee’s given name in a situation like this. McGee’s back stiffened and it looked like Tony wasn’t the only one thrown by it. “Please be careful.”
McGee faced him again, tucking a cloth between Tony’s thighs and cock, and smiling in a way Tony couldn’t quite place.
“Would it help if I told you that shaved penises look larger?”
“Really?” Tony couldn’t take his eyes off the blade as it made contact just below his pubic bone, gently scraping downwards. After each sweep, McGee, cleaned the blade against the cloth and Tony was a little surprised by how well-practiced Probiewan was making it all look.
“So I'm told.” McGee took hold of the shaft of Tony’s cock and slowly dragged the razor downwards, wiping the cream off after every stroke. It was…surprisingly stimulating. Between McGee’s firm grip and the slick slide of the razor’s edge against his skin, Tony could feel blood flowing onwards and upwards. He wondered whether he should mention it, but figured that of all the people in the world, the one with his hand around his cock would know the effect this was having.
One thing was bothering him, though “Who told you that?”
“I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.” McGee smirked slightly and Tony marked that comment as one worthy of further investigation later.
"If you're not careful with that razor, I'll wish I was dead."
“Not having that problem right now, though, huh Tony?” McGee loosened his grip, job done and looked far too amused that Tony’s cock was still a little more upright than before.
“Just trying to make things easier for you, McCutthroat.” Now that it was over, Tony could feel the relief surging through him. That wasn’t exactly helping things, either.
“Well, while you’re in a helping mood, can you shift forwards?”
Tony slid towards McGee, specifically towards McGee’s mouth that, as mentioned earlier, should be much more accommodating of his hairless self. Then McGee stood up.
“Not like that,” he corrected and Tony felt McGee’s hands on either side of him, tilting and twisting him until he was lying on his back legs above him and feeling incredibly vulnerable in the balls region. Relief had long since faded and now the earlier tension was back. He flinched as McGee brought the foam-coated brush back to coat him.
“Tony, please try not to do that when I’m shaving you.”
“Not sure I’ve got a choice over that, McGee.” Tony saw McGee put down the foam and pick up the blade. He closed his eyes and tried not to flinch.
McGee stroked the side of Tony’s leg. “Tony, listen, I’m going to count to three. On three, you’ll feel the razor. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Sure, Tony reassured himself, at least if he knew when then he could brace for it and he wouldn’t jump. Oh god, he hoped he wouldn’t jump.
“One,” McGee’s hand moved to between his legs. When Tony looked up all he could see was the top of McGee’s head. He leant back again.
“Two.” Tony took a deep breath and waited.
“Three.” He tensed and…felt nothing worse than a slight scraping sensation against his skin.
“You are suspiciously good with that blade, McSweeney,” he joked, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“My great-uncle taught me to shave my face with one when I was a younger.” Tony could feel McGee cup his scrotum and breathed out, relaxing as much as possible. Tony wouldn’t exactly volunteer for this again, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared.
“He swore by it,” McGee continued “Takes too long, normally, but it's worth it for some things.”
“Nice to hear I’m worth it, Probie.”
“Hair color commercials aside, we’re nearly done.”
One final scrape against the back of his scrotum and McGee pulled Tony’s legs down. The newly shaven skin felt strange as it moved, and he could feel the air in the apartment more acutely now. Despite everything, his cock was still bobbing at half-mast. A fact that it would seem McGee had noticed, too.
“Last but not least,” he flicked the top on the only modern-looking thing on the tray, “moisturizer.”
"That better not be the type that invigorates." Because, really, things had been going too well.
"You tell me."
There was a mild, very mild tingle; surprisingly similar to when McGee did that trick of blowing cold air over his freshly-licked skin. But it didn’t sting and the way that McGee’s hand moved smoothly across his skin almost made everything worth it.
"Oh no, that's fine.” Tony smiled and shifted against the arm of the couch, half sitting up to watch. He caught McGee’s eye. “That is just fine."
"Yeah?" McGee moved to drag a hand up Tony's semi-erect cock then down again, making his way across the perineum.
"Yeah that's feeling pretty good, actually." As if McGee couldn’t already see that.
"Glad to hear it." McGee took Tony's hand and squeezed a line of gel onto it. "Want to show me how good?"
Tony sat up, twitching as the cloth of the couch rubbed his now bare skin and used the moisturiser-free hand to drag McGee towards him by the waist band as McGee stripped himself of his t-shirt. He batted Tony’s hand away to un-zip his fly, but Tony retaliated by pulling him into a kiss. He suspected the adrenaline pumping through him had reached his brain because the contact alone would make lesser men moan. He was, of course, a DiNozzo and therefore not a lesser man. Didn’t stop him mentally thanking God when he felt McGee’s slacks fall against his leg, or in any way prevent him from reaching forward for what he suspected had to be a semi. No way McGee wasn’t getting off on that.
Tony’s theory was confirmed when McGee jerked upwards, pushing harder into the grip as Tony began to swirl the gel around him.
Once satisfied that McGee was thoroughly coated, Tony pulled away a little, holding McGee barely an inch away from him. Probie had to learn that he wasn’t the only one that could tease.
“What’s it going to be, McGee?” Tony asked and he didn’t even need the second part of the question as McGee began to kick off his pants.
“Knees” McGee ground out before he bit down on Tony’s lip, dragging it downwards. Tony wasn’t entirely sure how McGee expected him to get on his knees while he was tongue-fucking him quite that vigorously. Not that he was complaining, although this must have occurred to McGee as he stopped and guided Tony onto all fours.
Tony braced his hands against the couch as McGee raked his fingers down Tony’s side. He breathed out heavily because after three months doing this, McGee really knew where his buttons were. He felt a cool sensation as McGee poured a pool of moisturiser into the curve of his back. Two fingers dragged a slippery path down towards his crease and it was all he could do not to beg them to go faster. He pushed backwards as the fingers pressed against his hole, one closely followed by the other easing inside with the tingle of the moisturiser adding to the mix. McGee moved them immediately, wasting no time and Tony could guess from that that Probielicious was just as desperate as he was.
The frame of the couch creaked beneath them as McGee shifted into position. There was a pause.
“You-“
“Goddamit McGee, just fuck me!” Tony barked out.
He heard McGee’s breath catch behind him but it had the hoped for effect. McGee pushed in slowly and Tony was not in the mood for that. He thrust backwards until he felt the curls of McGee’s hair against his buttocks.
McGee pulled out gradually and pushed back in, hard. Tony struggled for breath as McGee repeated the action; out slow, in fast.
He felt McGee curl over his back, the new angle meaning that every inwards movement jarred Tony’s prostate and that was good in a way that really shouldn’t have been.
Tony’s head was yanked upwards and not for the first time Tony was glad that he’d kept up with a few of the exercises after that inventive month dating a yoga teacher. McGee panted into his ear, “Gonna let me finish this time?”
“Not got a lot of choice there, McGee. Again,” Tony added, as an afterthought.
“Want a hand?”
“Hand, mouth, foot, whatever you want Tim, just touch me!.”
McGee bit down on Tony’s shoulder and let go of his head. He slumped forwards slightly, each shove causing the couch to creak and Tony started to wonder if it was going to last the weekend; if either of them would, because goddamn he had to come soon.
Too high to rub against the couch, but just high enough for a draft he would swear wasn’t there before to be tickling around his cock. And McGee was doing nothing, the bastard, just running cold fingers up and down his back.
Until he wasn’t; until those cool, slick fingers finally wrapped themselves around Tony and slid over him greedily, trying to trace every inch of his newly exposed flesh. Fingertips brushed the base of his cock and moved further, leaving smooth trails all the way down to his balls and massaging them until he was about to come from that alone. But he couldn’t, no matter how good; he needed more. He needed McGee’s hand on his cock and he refused to beg. Not again.
He refused. He couldn’t.
“Just ask.”
Tony was going to make McGee pay for this. Tomorrow, when their little arrangement was over and it was back to normal he would make McGee regret the way he’d made Tony beg for it, the way he’d teased. A finger tracing around the head, then stroking down the thick vein then suddenly pumping Tony’s cock so hard that even Tony didn’t know what had hit him. He’d heard of being hit like a freight train but this was more like nuclear weapon. He fell forward and closed his eyes, breathing as best he could as he shuddered and groaned through it.
He assumed that somewhere along the way McGee had gotten himself off because that slumped weight on his back did not suggest someone with blue balls. Eventually reality hit home and Tony shifted his arms into a more comfortable position. He could feel McGee’s hair brush his back as he lay against it, each breath less strained than the last.
“This is not comfortable,” he mumbled into the cushions when it sounded like moving wouldn’t actually kill McCocktease. McGee lifted himself enough for Tony to turn onto his back. From here he could see McGee properly. He looked…could you call a guy glowy? Was that just for pregnant women? If you could, McGee was it.
“Tim?” McGee questioned, amused. “Twice?”
Tony rolled his head back and said nothing. There wasn’t really anything to say except that, okay, maybe sometimes he was less McGee and more Tim in Tony’s head. But that was just because he’d need to distinguish between McGee-the-colleague and McGee-the-really-great-lay. Nothing else to read into it.
He risked a glance in McGee’s direction and saw that, from the grin plastered over his face, McGee would probably believe that even less that he did.
A subject change was in order. “I think I stained your couch.”
“It’s water based,” McGee said as he got up.
Tony rolled over to look up at him, now standing beside the couch and, unsurprisingly for McOCD, tidying away the tray.
“The moisturizer or my special sauce?”
“Special sauce?” McGee threw Tony a disgusted look “Thanks Tony, you’ve just ruined McDonalds for me.” McGee paused again “And neither's permanent.”
“So they’ll wash out?” An idea was forming and Tony was mentally rubbing his hands together with glee.
“Ye-es. Why the sudden interest?” McGee sounded apprehensive.
Tony grabbed the brush from the tray McGee was holding and blew the remaining foam at him, smiling broadly.
“I’m not the only one with pubes, Probie.”
Rating: NC-17
Pairing/character: McGee/DiNozzo
Summary: "If you sit back and do exactly as I say, everything will be fine."
Warnings/Spoilers: None
A/N: Written for kink_bingo. Prompt is Shaving. Part four of five in the Carte Blanche series. Much thanks to karaokegal for a fabulous beta.
Tony stretched out on the couch, naked to the waist and still pleased with himself. Well, who wouldn’t be? There had been great morning sex, bagels and coffee from the deli down the street, all followed by an afternoon of lazing around, doing nothing much while McGee played on his computer. Listening to Elf Lord command his elflets was both amusing and extraordinarily geeky.
Not to mention mildly arousing when McGee ordered them around in that badass tone Tony’d found out he had.
This was the life.
Or it was until Team Elf had given up for the night and McGee had disappeared into the bathroom with a glint in his eye. Five minutes later, he’d come back and that’s when things had started going downhill
“What is this, the 1840s?” Tony had tried for light-hearted, but faltered a little in the face of a truly unnerving scenario.
He stared at the tray in as McGee put it down in front of him. Jar of white, smooth-looking liquid that he suspected was not whipped cream. Old-time shaving brush. Goddamn straight razor that was going no where near any part of him. Girly looking moisturizer.
"If you sit back and do exactly as I say, everything will be fine." McGee was using the same tone of voice that he used for talking down jumpers.
Not a great job of hiding the fear in your voice, there, DiNozzo.
Stepping round the table, McGee leaned over Tony to kiss him softly, probably designed to calm him down. And, okay, he wasn’t doing a bad job but Tony was still aware of that fact that McGee was un-buttoning his fly. Tony shifted upwards to let McGee pull his pants down because, while he really didn’t want to be doing this, he was a DiNozzo and DiNozzos kept their promises.
This one did, at least.
McGee pulled back and turned to the table, picking up the old fashioned shaving cream. He began to whip it up with a technique that Tony would be willing to swear he'd learned from the movies. Any minute now he'd ask if Tony wanted something for the weekend or start singing about the lovely pies from next door.
“Okay, I need you to spread your legs.”
Tony hesitated
"Wow, normally I barely get to finish the question. What's wrong, Tony?" McGee's expression was far too smug and evil for Tony's liking. "Don't you trust me?"
"I have a rule to never trust a man with a blade and his eyes on my dick." It was a new rule, Tony would concede, but a valid one all the same.
"Well, we're just going to have to break that rule tonight.”
McGee pushed Tony’s shoulders back into the seat, while shifting him forward at the waist. “Lean back and put your legs on either side of the table."
It wasn't strictly uncomfortable, but there was a lingering sensation that warned him if he tried to stay like this for long, he'd be sore in the morning.
Who was he kidding? Aching muscles were the least of his worries right now.
"There we go!" The evil had gone but the smug remained, joined now by the patronizing tone that McGee had to know grated on Tony's nerves.
Asshole.
Or, you know, maybe not. Even with a haze of dread hanging over him, the sensation of the foam-coated brush against his skin was incredibly erotic, not to mention the sight of McGee kneeling between his legs, looking intent.
Now if only he could convince McGee to stay there.
"McGee, how much-"
McGee stopped him in his tracks. "I'm not doing this because it's fun, Tony."
Tony snorted, because like hell he wasn't.
"I'm not!" McGee protested, before what Tony could imagine a therapist calling a deep, cleansing breath "Frankly, Tony, I'm sick of picking your hairs from out of my teeth. You said anything; this is anything.” McGee turned to the tray and Tony knew that there was only one thing he could be going for at this point. “Now don't move, or this could end badly."
“Tim,” Tony said, inwardly a little surprised because it was the first time he’d used McGee’s given name in a situation like this. McGee’s back stiffened and it looked like Tony wasn’t the only one thrown by it. “Please be careful.”
McGee faced him again, tucking a cloth between Tony’s thighs and cock, and smiling in a way Tony couldn’t quite place.
“Would it help if I told you that shaved penises look larger?”
“Really?” Tony couldn’t take his eyes off the blade as it made contact just below his pubic bone, gently scraping downwards. After each sweep, McGee, cleaned the blade against the cloth and Tony was a little surprised by how well-practiced Probiewan was making it all look.
“So I'm told.” McGee took hold of the shaft of Tony’s cock and slowly dragged the razor downwards, wiping the cream off after every stroke. It was…surprisingly stimulating. Between McGee’s firm grip and the slick slide of the razor’s edge against his skin, Tony could feel blood flowing onwards and upwards. He wondered whether he should mention it, but figured that of all the people in the world, the one with his hand around his cock would know the effect this was having.
One thing was bothering him, though “Who told you that?”
“I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.” McGee smirked slightly and Tony marked that comment as one worthy of further investigation later.
"If you're not careful with that razor, I'll wish I was dead."
“Not having that problem right now, though, huh Tony?” McGee loosened his grip, job done and looked far too amused that Tony’s cock was still a little more upright than before.
“Just trying to make things easier for you, McCutthroat.” Now that it was over, Tony could feel the relief surging through him. That wasn’t exactly helping things, either.
“Well, while you’re in a helping mood, can you shift forwards?”
Tony slid towards McGee, specifically towards McGee’s mouth that, as mentioned earlier, should be much more accommodating of his hairless self. Then McGee stood up.
“Not like that,” he corrected and Tony felt McGee’s hands on either side of him, tilting and twisting him until he was lying on his back legs above him and feeling incredibly vulnerable in the balls region. Relief had long since faded and now the earlier tension was back. He flinched as McGee brought the foam-coated brush back to coat him.
“Tony, please try not to do that when I’m shaving you.”
“Not sure I’ve got a choice over that, McGee.” Tony saw McGee put down the foam and pick up the blade. He closed his eyes and tried not to flinch.
McGee stroked the side of Tony’s leg. “Tony, listen, I’m going to count to three. On three, you’ll feel the razor. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” Sure, Tony reassured himself, at least if he knew when then he could brace for it and he wouldn’t jump. Oh god, he hoped he wouldn’t jump.
“One,” McGee’s hand moved to between his legs. When Tony looked up all he could see was the top of McGee’s head. He leant back again.
“Two.” Tony took a deep breath and waited.
“Three.” He tensed and…felt nothing worse than a slight scraping sensation against his skin.
“You are suspiciously good with that blade, McSweeney,” he joked, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“My great-uncle taught me to shave my face with one when I was a younger.” Tony could feel McGee cup his scrotum and breathed out, relaxing as much as possible. Tony wouldn’t exactly volunteer for this again, but it wasn’t as bad as he’d feared.
“He swore by it,” McGee continued “Takes too long, normally, but it's worth it for some things.”
“Nice to hear I’m worth it, Probie.”
“Hair color commercials aside, we’re nearly done.”
One final scrape against the back of his scrotum and McGee pulled Tony’s legs down. The newly shaven skin felt strange as it moved, and he could feel the air in the apartment more acutely now. Despite everything, his cock was still bobbing at half-mast. A fact that it would seem McGee had noticed, too.
“Last but not least,” he flicked the top on the only modern-looking thing on the tray, “moisturizer.”
"That better not be the type that invigorates." Because, really, things had been going too well.
"You tell me."
There was a mild, very mild tingle; surprisingly similar to when McGee did that trick of blowing cold air over his freshly-licked skin. But it didn’t sting and the way that McGee’s hand moved smoothly across his skin almost made everything worth it.
"Oh no, that's fine.” Tony smiled and shifted against the arm of the couch, half sitting up to watch. He caught McGee’s eye. “That is just fine."
"Yeah?" McGee moved to drag a hand up Tony's semi-erect cock then down again, making his way across the perineum.
"Yeah that's feeling pretty good, actually." As if McGee couldn’t already see that.
"Glad to hear it." McGee took Tony's hand and squeezed a line of gel onto it. "Want to show me how good?"
Tony sat up, twitching as the cloth of the couch rubbed his now bare skin and used the moisturiser-free hand to drag McGee towards him by the waist band as McGee stripped himself of his t-shirt. He batted Tony’s hand away to un-zip his fly, but Tony retaliated by pulling him into a kiss. He suspected the adrenaline pumping through him had reached his brain because the contact alone would make lesser men moan. He was, of course, a DiNozzo and therefore not a lesser man. Didn’t stop him mentally thanking God when he felt McGee’s slacks fall against his leg, or in any way prevent him from reaching forward for what he suspected had to be a semi. No way McGee wasn’t getting off on that.
Tony’s theory was confirmed when McGee jerked upwards, pushing harder into the grip as Tony began to swirl the gel around him.
Once satisfied that McGee was thoroughly coated, Tony pulled away a little, holding McGee barely an inch away from him. Probie had to learn that he wasn’t the only one that could tease.
“What’s it going to be, McGee?” Tony asked and he didn’t even need the second part of the question as McGee began to kick off his pants.
“Knees” McGee ground out before he bit down on Tony’s lip, dragging it downwards. Tony wasn’t entirely sure how McGee expected him to get on his knees while he was tongue-fucking him quite that vigorously. Not that he was complaining, although this must have occurred to McGee as he stopped and guided Tony onto all fours.
Tony braced his hands against the couch as McGee raked his fingers down Tony’s side. He breathed out heavily because after three months doing this, McGee really knew where his buttons were. He felt a cool sensation as McGee poured a pool of moisturiser into the curve of his back. Two fingers dragged a slippery path down towards his crease and it was all he could do not to beg them to go faster. He pushed backwards as the fingers pressed against his hole, one closely followed by the other easing inside with the tingle of the moisturiser adding to the mix. McGee moved them immediately, wasting no time and Tony could guess from that that Probielicious was just as desperate as he was.
The frame of the couch creaked beneath them as McGee shifted into position. There was a pause.
“You-“
“Goddamit McGee, just fuck me!” Tony barked out.
He heard McGee’s breath catch behind him but it had the hoped for effect. McGee pushed in slowly and Tony was not in the mood for that. He thrust backwards until he felt the curls of McGee’s hair against his buttocks.
McGee pulled out gradually and pushed back in, hard. Tony struggled for breath as McGee repeated the action; out slow, in fast.
He felt McGee curl over his back, the new angle meaning that every inwards movement jarred Tony’s prostate and that was good in a way that really shouldn’t have been.
Tony’s head was yanked upwards and not for the first time Tony was glad that he’d kept up with a few of the exercises after that inventive month dating a yoga teacher. McGee panted into his ear, “Gonna let me finish this time?”
“Not got a lot of choice there, McGee. Again,” Tony added, as an afterthought.
“Want a hand?”
“Hand, mouth, foot, whatever you want Tim, just touch me!.”
McGee bit down on Tony’s shoulder and let go of his head. He slumped forwards slightly, each shove causing the couch to creak and Tony started to wonder if it was going to last the weekend; if either of them would, because goddamn he had to come soon.
Too high to rub against the couch, but just high enough for a draft he would swear wasn’t there before to be tickling around his cock. And McGee was doing nothing, the bastard, just running cold fingers up and down his back.
Until he wasn’t; until those cool, slick fingers finally wrapped themselves around Tony and slid over him greedily, trying to trace every inch of his newly exposed flesh. Fingertips brushed the base of his cock and moved further, leaving smooth trails all the way down to his balls and massaging them until he was about to come from that alone. But he couldn’t, no matter how good; he needed more. He needed McGee’s hand on his cock and he refused to beg. Not again.
He refused. He couldn’t.
“Just ask.”
Tony was going to make McGee pay for this. Tomorrow, when their little arrangement was over and it was back to normal he would make McGee regret the way he’d made Tony beg for it, the way he’d teased. A finger tracing around the head, then stroking down the thick vein then suddenly pumping Tony’s cock so hard that even Tony didn’t know what had hit him. He’d heard of being hit like a freight train but this was more like nuclear weapon. He fell forward and closed his eyes, breathing as best he could as he shuddered and groaned through it.
He assumed that somewhere along the way McGee had gotten himself off because that slumped weight on his back did not suggest someone with blue balls. Eventually reality hit home and Tony shifted his arms into a more comfortable position. He could feel McGee’s hair brush his back as he lay against it, each breath less strained than the last.
“This is not comfortable,” he mumbled into the cushions when it sounded like moving wouldn’t actually kill McCocktease. McGee lifted himself enough for Tony to turn onto his back. From here he could see McGee properly. He looked…could you call a guy glowy? Was that just for pregnant women? If you could, McGee was it.
“Tim?” McGee questioned, amused. “Twice?”
Tony rolled his head back and said nothing. There wasn’t really anything to say except that, okay, maybe sometimes he was less McGee and more Tim in Tony’s head. But that was just because he’d need to distinguish between McGee-the-colleague and McGee-the-really-great-lay. Nothing else to read into it.
He risked a glance in McGee’s direction and saw that, from the grin plastered over his face, McGee would probably believe that even less that he did.
A subject change was in order. “I think I stained your couch.”
“It’s water based,” McGee said as he got up.
Tony rolled over to look up at him, now standing beside the couch and, unsurprisingly for McOCD, tidying away the tray.
“The moisturizer or my special sauce?”
“Special sauce?” McGee threw Tony a disgusted look “Thanks Tony, you’ve just ruined McDonalds for me.” McGee paused again “And neither's permanent.”
“So they’ll wash out?” An idea was forming and Tony was mentally rubbing his hands together with glee.
“Ye-es. Why the sudden interest?” McGee sounded apprehensive.
Tony grabbed the brush from the tray McGee was holding and blew the remaining foam at him, smiling broadly.
“I’m not the only one with pubes, Probie.”