Hold Me Closer, Tony DiNozzo

The idea for this bit struck me during lunch and was expanded upon during my Calculus lecture. Blame integration rules for this bit of crack!fic.

***

"Mornin', Probie."

Tim McGee was searching for information to help with a new case when DiNozzo strolled in. Late, typical, but McGee couldn't deny he was good-looking in that always slightly-too-casual 'American boy' fashion. Of course DiNozzo could act like he didn't try too hard on his appearance—it didn't really matter one way or another. McGee's eyes picked out a fold in the placket of his shirt, hairline wrinkles carelessly left in his grey suit jacket. He imagined pressing out the creases of DiNozzo's clothing, and then, without thought, buttoning the shirt up over the older man's torso, leaving the top undone, catching his lips in a kiss.

Across the room, Ziva coughed audibly and regarded McGee with an odd look, which he returned.

"Grab your gear, we've got another dead Marine," Gibbs called as he strode into the office, large paper cup of coffee in hand.

Shaken from his daydream, McGee picked up his black nylon backpack—a relic from his days at JHU—and followed Gibbs and DiNozzo to the elevator. Flicking his head over his shoulder at Ziva, he whispered, "what was that?"

"You know already," Ziva replied as the doors slid shut.

***

In the garage, she neatly slipped into the front passenger's side of the truck. "You lose if you snooze," she replied to DiNozzo's grab at the door handle and rolled the window up.

"Guess I'll keep McBackseat company," DiNozzo replied, tossing his bag in first. He had barely shut the door before an impatient Gibbs began to pull the truck out.

Most of the ride was spent discussing the few known details of the case, but McGee only half-listened. This was the second in a series of murders, and he'd taken some time that morning to review facts about the first one. After the first hour, though, the team's conversation dwindled as they pursued their separate interests. Gibbs drove, Ziva filled out a crossword, and DiNozzo slumped against the window half-asleep. McGee shifted in his seat uneasily and stared out the window, afraid to look in DiNozzo's direction.

Gibbs turned onto the rocky shoulder of a rural highway and got out to meet the local police and get further details on the identity of the Marine and the manner of his death. Ziva followed close behind. As McGee opened his door, he looked across the seat at his apparently still-sleeping partner. Shaking his head, he hesitantly leaned towards DiNozzo, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking him.

DiNozzo awoke with a start, his face inches from McGee's and marked with something suspiciously close to a smile.

***

The rest of the workday passed in a blur of names and details painstakingly logged into the case file. Gibbs had assigned the team a small handful of tasks before leaving to meet with the Director. As the sky darkened outside the NCIS offices, DiNozzo sighed and looked up at his remaining co-workers. "I'm thinking we break for the night," he suggested.

"I agree," McGee replied, cracking his knuckles over the keyboard. "There's not much we can do until we get more information, and Abby's reports won't be back until tomorrow at the earliest."

"So, pizza? Drinks?"

"I can't," Ziva said, gathering her things. "I've got other plans."

"Suit yourself, " DiNozzo shrugged and turned as she made her way out. "Guess it's just me and you, McGee." There it was again, that almost imperceptible smile.

***

The pizza place was crowded with high schoolers, and, feeling bold, McGee offered his apartment, which was a short drive away. To his surprise, DiNozzo did not argue. In fact, there had been a curious lack of the usual teasing and name-calling that had characterized their prior relationship. Whatever had happened, or what was to happen, their relationship had changed.

A few beers later, they had nearly finished a large pizza, and had set their video game on pause. McGee wasn't drunk, not even tipsy, but he was pleasantly buzzed. He glanced over at DiNozzo's face, illuminated by the glow of the TV, and silently fumbled for words, stopping only when DiNozzo got up and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

McGee sighed and cleared their empty bottles and the pizza box from the floor, bringing them into the kitchen. He rinsed the bottles and set them in the recycling. The pizza he put on a plate and covered it with plastic wrap before clearing a place in the fridge for it. As he bent to set the pizza on a shelf, McGee heard footsteps behind him and quickly spun around, shutting the fridge door.

"What was that for?" McGee asked, pressed against the door of the fridge, a handful of magnets digging into his back.

DiNozzo shrugged and leaned in, setting a hand against the fridge, just over McGee's shoulder. "Nothing, just seeing if you were up for another round."

"I… I… er, whatever you want to do is fine," McGee stammered, fixing his gaze on a point over DiNozzo's ear.

DiNozzo raised his other hand to McGee's chin and tilted the younger man's face to meet his. Before McGee could protest, as if he would, DiNozzo's mouth was on his.

McGee was pleased to discover that the awkwardness that had come with kissing women was not a problem with DiNozzo. There was no question about where hands should go, no grasping for unfamiliar body parts. It helped that DiNozzo was apparently as aggressive with men as he had reportedly been with women, for soon McGee found himself stripped of his shirt with his pants in a pool around his ankles.

"Wait… neighbors…" McGee breathed, cocking a head towards the bare windows. He pushed himself away from the fridge and, kicking off his pants, led DiNozzo to his bedroom.

Once there, McGee quickly undid the buttons on DiNozzo's rumpled shirt—no tee-shirt underneath, just like in his day dreams—made quick work of his trousers, and sunk to his knees. There, he looked up for confirmation before continuing. A handful of moans and grunts were the first sounds DiNozzo had made since they kissed. They didn't say each other's names. For the time being, they weren't DiNozzo and McGee, they were just bodies slick with sweat and charged with hormones.

Several minutes later, DiNozzo pulled himself away and quietly finished himself onto McGee's bare chest. He pulled the younger man up and onto his bed.

"Do you want me to…" DiNozzo asked, slipping his hands beneath McGee's bum.

"After a little preparation," McGee responded, reaching into his bedside table for a bottle of lube and some condoms. He pulled the other man down for another kiss, grinding his hips against him.

"Have you done it before?" came the whisper.

"A few times," he breathed into a kiss, "with Abby."

That last remark earned him a quizzical but not entirely surprised look from DiNozzo, who quickly moved on to more exciting things, like parts of McGee's anatomy he had only pondered before.

***

As the clock turned to the wee hours of the morning, DiNozzo rolled to get out of bed.

"Are you sober enough to drive?" McGee asked, no requests or expectations that he stay.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He slipped on his pants. "I'll see you in the office?"

"Bright and early," McGee yawned. "Drive safely."

"Mmm-hmm," DiNozzo said, pulling on his shirt and closing the door behind him.

McGee lay in bed, unforgivingly awake despite the late hour. That had been an unexpected turn of events, though not unwelcome by any means. He didn't want a relationship, and he wasn't sure he'd get one he liked with DiNozzo even if the opportunity presented itself. But it hadn't been just fucking the way it had been the few times he'd shared surreptitious blowjobs in the instrument lab at university. Finally he decided it was too early to tell and settled in for an extended nap before work.

***

A few weeks later, their case was solved, and the team went out for drinks—even Gibbs nursed a glass. As the night progressed, the team began to set off in their separate directions. Everyone was surprised when DiNozzo was the first to leave, citing an 'early appointment' the next morning. McGee shrugged and took it at face value until his phone buzzed in his trouser pocket a few minutes later.

"See you tonight at my place, McDeepThroat?" the message asked.

McGee smirked and finished his drink. "I'll see you guys on Monday," he said, shrugging on his coat.

As he worked his way towards the door, his eyes met Ziva's face across the room. She gave McGee a very pointed look before rolling her eyes and turning back to her conversation with the team. McGee shook his head. Tony DiNozzo was many things, but subtle was not one of them.