|Category||Het, Het >> Other het pairings, Mixed up, Mixed up >> Other mixed pairings, Slash, Slash >> DiNozzo/McGee, Slash >> Threesomes and moresomes|
|Pairing||DiNozzo/McGee, DiNozzo/OFC, McGee/OFC, Other Pairing, DiNozzo/OFC/McGee|
|Genre||Challenge, Episode Related, First Time, PWP - Plot, What Plot?, Romance|
|Spoilers||"Bikini Wax" and "An Eye for an Eye"|
|Summary||Tim claims to be on his own spring break, not Tony's. But Tim is no stranger to covert ops.|
|Author's notes||For the NCIS Ficathon, this Dave Matthews Band lyric was my inspiration: "I've dreamed myself a thousand times around the world, but I can't get out of this place."
These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended. I'm grateful to Celli and Signe for betaing; all mistakes are mine. I love feedback.
|Status||This story is completed|
Glad his eyes are hidden, Tim spends a long minute staring.
The figure stretched out a few feet away looks like honey poured, molded, and baked to perfection on the beach. Its only blemish is a tight swath of shiny, deep blue spandex -- and that reveals almost as much as it obscures. Tim digs his toes into the sand and adjusts his sunglasses to keep from doing the same to his own green nylon swim trunks. Then he swallows, steps forward, and waits for the response to his shadow cooling the honey.
Seconds later, Tony mutters without moving, "You're in my way."
"I figured you'd be used to it by now," Tim says lightly.
Tony lifts his stylish sunglasses and blinks. "McGee? What the hell are you doing on my spring break?"
"It's Saturday. You've been here for five days already. I'm only here for the weekend, so I think I'm on my spring break, not yours. Besides, you owe me: you picked Kate to go to Paraguay with you."
"That wasn't all fun and games." Tony twitches his sunglasses back into place.
Wincing inwardly, Tim sits beside Tony. Sand washes over the edge of Tony's towel, and a few grains stick to his sun-glazed skin. "I know. Sorry."
"Don't apologize to me. You saw what happened to Purcell from a worse angle than I did."
"Maybe, but -- let's just not talk about it."
"Fine with me. So, why are you really here? Did Kate get concerned?"
"No." Tim shrugs off his confusion. "I figured I'd come and experience for myself the stories you think will make me a man."
"Oh, yeah?" Rolling to face Tim, Tony lifts his shades again, and his eyebrows follow them upward.
Tim grins at the flicker of Tony's gaze from his head to his feet. He knows the trunks look better than his gym clothes did. "Oh, yeah."
Tony lies back and tucks his hands beneath his neck. "We'll see about that."
Here's hoping. Mimicking Tony's pose, Tim closes his eyes. He drinks in the feel of sunshine and the smells of salt, sweat, and tropically sweet tanning lotion drifting through the warm breeze.
Her name is Cindy, or maybe Cindi or Candy, for all Tim can remember. What he knows is that she looks like a Barbie doll, she probably tastes like the sugary wax lips that used to get stuck in his braces at Halloween, and she's blocking his view. That's been the case the whole night, but he won't hold it against her. She can't help being what Tony wants, and Tim isn't blind enough not to want her a little, too.
They found her at the bar that Tony and his three frat brothers had proclaimed the best in Panama City. She literally fell into Tony's arms after the second mai tai (for each of them). The other three guys wandered off in search of their own ladies of the night. Tim stayed put. And he stayed sober.
The longer he watches Tony cradle Cindy, the more he wants to be drunk. Not having gone on spring break from MIT doesn't mean he's never done anything wild, though: he would need a lot more mai tais before the effects hit him. Besides, Tony looks too good for Tim to want to watch him through blurred vision, even with Cindy there. And she turns her charms Tim's direction sometimes. So, he sips his drink, and he watches them grope each other, Tony cheerfully, flexibly golden in the half-light of the bar, and he thinks.
At one point, Tim switches to licking the rim of the glass once in a while rather than actually drinking. Tony's focus narrows to him for a split-second -- long enough to follow his tongue -- and Tim stops thinking. He leans toward Tony, veering to nuzzle Cindy's neck at the last second.
"How old are you?" he says, for only her ears.
Tilting sideways, she bites his chin. "Old enough to be flattered that you thought you needed to ask, not old enough to be offended."
"Good." He smiles, and feels the smile broaden when Tony sticks his head between theirs.
"What are you two whispering about?" Tony's breath is hot and fruity on Tim's cheek.
Tim inhales and then exhales slowly. "I just asked her if she'd ever been with two guys at once."
Tony cocks his head, and his voice is more curious than concerned. "Are you sure we don't need to add some more girls to that equation, McGee?"
The one girl already put into it finally shrugs out of Tony's arms. She curls her index finger toward them both, winks at Tim, and says to Tony, "I think you have enough to handle."
She leads them outside, where they pile into a taxi, Tim first, with Cindy sprawled halfway on top of him and Tony tucked beneath her, his calf nudging Tim's and his fingers reaching Tim's shoulder around hers. Once Tony gives the name of his and Tim's hotel, Cindy takes turns kissing them. She laughs between kisses until they join her.
Tony holds her in place with his free hand for one long, messy-looking kiss. Tim pulls Cindy to him and tangles his tongue with hers. The alcohol in her mouth is the same as his, the underlying flavor sort of like chapstick, but he wants to believe some of the heat there is the same as Tony's. He keeps kissing her, chasing the heat. Tony's hand squeezes his shoulder and slides to cup the back of his neck as Tony leans into Cindy, presses them closer. Her nipples brush Tim's arm through their shirts. Then the cabbie tells them they're at the hotel. They crawl out like a single male gametophyte, three cells of pollen grain clinging to each other all the way through the lobby, up the elevator, and down the hall to Tim's room.
He pushes open the door after the keycard clicks. While he's shoving it back into his wallet, closing the door, and flipping on the bedside lamp, Tony and Cindy are clambering onto the queen-sized bed, kissing again. Tim leans against the door.
Cindy peels off her tank top like a seasoned professional -- a pro girl gone wild, anyway. She repeats the trick for Tony, her breasts and long, blonde hair against his chest as she lifts his shirt. Tony groans and closes his eyes as she goes to work on his shorts and briefs. Standing to push down her skirt, then her panties, she tosses a look over her shoulder at Tim with her back still arched and her round ass in the air. "You staying there?"
He accepts the invitation. After he strips off his own shirt and shorts, he steps up, running his hands along her arms. She angles her neck when he kisses it. They land on the bed, kneeling between Tony's spread legs. Tim looks down and catches him staring.
"Nice view," she says, glancing toward the curtained window but smiling at them both.
"I like it." Tony's eyes stay on Tim's for several seconds before sweeping down Cindy's chest.
"Me, too." Tim takes a good look at Tony's chest -- at his firm, sculpted muscles, dark hair, and yards of bronzed skin. Tim curves his hands around Cindy's waist, his palms on her hips and the backs of his fingers trailing over Tony's stomach. He can't feel if Tony is hard yet, but Tim is getting there.
Tony arches up to take Cindy's mouth. He cups her breasts, and her elbow bumps Tim's hand as she starts jacking Tony's cock. Tony grunts, rocking his hips. The friction of his thighs bracing Tim's knees makes Tim push back toward him with enough force to tumble Cindy down flat on top of Tony, Tim on top of her. They all moan at that.
"How about I . . . " Tim trails off. Screw it.
He plants his hands on the mattress beside Tony's arms and grinds down. Cindy hitches to meet him, the seam of her ass forming a groove for his cock to slide through. He gets harder, and harder still when Tony lets out a deep, hoarse sound and moves under them. Tony's hair flattens against the pillow with every thrust, and Cindy's sways through the air.
Moaning, she writhes up and down, rubbing both of them. She shifts, and on an up-slide, Tim's cock slips between her legs to nudge Tony's inner thigh. Tim jerks. The sensation is so strong, he feels like he just got too close to the waves. He buries his head in Cindy's shoulder, biting her warm skin until the need to come eases.
Her hair brushes his cheek as she turns her head. "Wanna sit back for a minute?"
Nodding, his throat too dry for words, Tim rolls off. He settles into the leather easy chair that faces the bed, settles back into watching them. His fist cupped loosely around the base of his bare cock makes this a little different from the scene at the bar, though.
Cindy presses her mouth to Tony's. His hands stroke her ass and move up her back as she wiggles her way down his body. Reaching his cock, she grabs a condom from her discarded shorts and peels it onto him.
"Strawberry-flavored," she says, and gets right to sucking, bobbing her head. Tony clutches the comforter. He either has his eyes closed or is staring at the ceiling, until he lifts his head and looks in Tim's direction, down to where Tim is fighting not to jerk off.
"Uh, McGee --" Tony starts. He clears his throat. "Tim. You'd probably enjoy yourself more over here."
"Oh, yeah?" Tim says roughly.
Tony just keeps looking at him. Cindy pulls off and looks at him, too.
"Only if I get to show you something." Tim doesn't clarify which person he meant. Cindy grins. He returns to the bed, and she spreads her legs, but instead of seeming surprised when he moves toward Tony, she puts her own hands on herself and grins again.
Tim musters a grin in response that softens into an O as he closes his mouth over the head of Tony's cock. Tony thrusts almost lazily upward. Tim might've thought Tony was drunk, except the sharpness in his eyes, and the hardness pushing between Tim's lips, implies that his tolerance -- for a lot of things -- is higher than Tony wanted most people to know.
The intimacy of being allowed to know that is as hot as the sheer physicality of what Tim is doing, easing Tony's cock further into his mouth, his tongue sticking to every thick, sweet inch. Okay, so it's a stiff competition.
Tim gradually sucks harder, more quickly. He was right, earlier, about that elusive heat in Cindy's mouth having come from Tony. Tim can hear her panting off to the side, and then he can feel her draped over his back and stroking his cock. He doesn't really notice anything, though, besides Tony, whose attention is focused right back on Tim. They move together, the two of them plus Cindy, less like pollen now than a bee swallowing nectar that happens to be surrounded by a flower. And Tony liquefies when he comes, and Tim swallows around Tony when he does, and Cindy rubs herself off against him.
The next morning, Tim awakens to find Tony's fingers and lips sealed wetly around his cock, the curtains wide open to an ocean vista, and Cindy's home phone number on the nightstand. He makes a mental note to look up her address so he can send her a thank-you card, a dozen-lollipop bouquet, something, when they get home. Until checkout time, he's going to be too busy getting a hell of a blowjob.
Tony glances up to meet Tim's eyes and starts sucking harder. He obviously isn't an expert, but the tightness of his mouth and flex of his tongue reveal experience, one way or another. His speed increases.
"Yeah, that's good," Tim encourages, thrusting. "Oh, fuck, Tony!"
The sun gleaming through the window turns Tony's head and back into pools of deep golden light. Tim slides his fingers into Tony's hair, soft and tousled. He doesn't guide Tony, doesn't need to do anything but hold on. This time, Tim might have gone liquid, too, over Tony's hands. Tony flops beside him, his mouth warmly slack against Tim's neck and his hands sticky where they entwine easily with Tim's.
Suitcases packed, they're waiting outside the hotel doors for the airport shuttle. Tony's sunglasses cover his eyes; the rest of his body is more covered than it has been the entire weekend, but he still looks like honey -- just crystallized into some new shape that Tim can't wait to study more. He wants to know everything.
And that reminds him. He bumps his shoulder against Tony's. "I'm not trying to get into the other part of the mission again, but, seriously, Tony, how come you picked Kate and not me for Paraguay when I told you I'd always wanted to go there?"
"Two reasons, McGee." Tony says, the return to Tim's last name distancing them. "She's the senior officer, and after I'd ragged on her for wanting to be someplace warm while we were on stakeout at Horlocher's, I thought I would be nice and fulfill her dream. It didn't work out quite the way I'd hoped."
"Hey. You meant well." Wanting to forestall the clouds in Tony's eyes, Tim aims for a teasing note. "You could've been nice to me instead, though."
Tony meets his gaze. After a moment, he smiles wickedly and rubs his thumb over Tim's lips. "I was pretty nice this weekend."
Licking the tip of his thumb, Tim acknowledges with his own smile, "And you taught me a lot about spring break."
"Well, I learned a thing or two from you -- and about you."
"Oh, yeah? Good things?" Tim raises his eyebrows.
He wishes they had much more time left in Panama City when Tony responds in a low, rich tone, "Oh, yeah."