fic: Birthday Blues
In honor of Sean Murray’s birthday: a little Tony/Tim ficlet. Wishful thinking on my part.
Title: Birthday Blues
Pairing: Tony/Tim
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: none
Summary: It’s Tim’s birthday and everyone remembered except for one Anthony DiNozzo.
Ziva wasn’t exactly subtle about it so she can’t really blame him for finding out, but that autographed copy of Probalistic Robotics she had sitting in her drawer wasn’t really something she would read, no, but it was something he’d mentioned wanting to get his hands on while on a late-night stakeout. He gave her a big smile and pretended to read the back cover when in fact, he could practically recite it in his sleep.
Abby was more subtle, if subtle was a skull-and-crossbones wrapped package stashed way on one of the shelves in her lab. He had thoroughly figured out what was in it in less than ten via shaking, sniffing, and squeezing when she stepped out of the lab one afternoon. Hmmm… and if it isn’t that rare Nintendo game he was oohing and aahing over on EBay. As way of thanks, he pasted a surprised Oh on his face and accepted the hug she was determined to break his bones with.
He hadn’t really expected anything from Gibbs, but the boss’ shoulder pat - a total deviation from the usual brain rattling head slap - and almost fond, “Go home, McGee,” had said it all. It was probably just a ploy to kick him out because he’d been distracted all day and was pushing Gibbs’ patience to the limit, but still… it’s the thought that counts, right? He’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth and plus, the Director had nodded her head in agreement, a smile on her face.
Ducky had greeted him once that morning, and again just now on his way to the elevator after a rather lengthy segue about the history of celebrating one’s birth. Tim sighed with relief when the doors finally closed on that.
He was more than a little disappointed that Tony begged off early. The man had teased him nonstop all week, dropping hints about presents and payback and - did he really say, “…licking chocolate off your chest,” while Tim was trying to give him some serious oral examination? Tony hadn’t mentioned anything today and in fact was distant and secretive - had practically run out of the restroom when Tim tried to corner him, citing some calls to be made as an excuse. Since when did Tony turn down a quick nookie? Probably forgot… distracted by another short skirt or tight shirt or… nope, not going to go that way.
It wasn’t like they were committed, per say; neither of them had said the necessary words that would actually confirm they were in a relationship, but that’s not the point. The point is that if Tony was getting bored with him and wanted to move on, all he had to do was say so instead of pretending he wasn’t there. He could’ve picked a better day to break up. Is it still a break up when you’re not really together?
Tim was on a roll by the time he’d parked in front of his building, indignation at being played at and nausea at having to listen to the speech fighting for dominance in his mind. He’ll go to that new restaurant in Georgetown tonight and maybe have a few celebratory drinks alone… wallowing in self-pity… on his birthday… and he could call Abby to see if she wanted to go with him, because being alone on your birthday when you should be with the one you love (and whoa, did he just say the L word?!) sucks.
He kicked the door closed and wow, it’s like being in the twilight zone. Has his apartment ever been this clean? And since when did he have a Marvin Gaye CD? Was that Gino’s on the dining table he doesn’t remember ever having?
“You… what… dining table?” he asked the man currently arranging cutlery around said table.
“Can’t exactly have a romantic dinner on the floor, McBirthdayBoy.”
“Romantic?”
“Romantic.”
“Romantic?”
“Ro- oh for crying out loud, McGee. We’re not going to play echoes here. Just come and have a seat,” Tony said, taking his backpack and hanging his coat for him.
Okay, so maybe he needs to re-evaluate his thoughts and reformulate his plans if being given a thorough birthday kiss means that Tony apparently hadn’t forgotten.
“You didn’t forget.” He figured the obvious relief in his voice could be excused. Tony raised an eyebrow and pulled out a chair, indicating for him to sit before lighting the candles on the table.
“You think I suddenly had amnesia?”
Tim looked at the man across from him, wonderfully amazed that the other had gone to so much trouble.
“Well, not amnesia exactly,” he said, looking down at his plate of Norwegian grilled salmon.
Tony looked at him speculatively, but didn’t say anything until they were sharing the double chocolate cheesecake and his glass refilled with pinot noir.
“It’s not rocket science, Probie.”
“Huh? What’s not rocket science?”
“This. Us.”
He coughed, trying to clear the bite of cake currently making acquaintance with his windpipe, because he’d never thought they were an ‘us’ in the eight months two weeks and six days they’d been doing naughty things with each other.
“I would think that you’d have figured it out by now, Timothy. You. Me. Us. This thing we’re doing isn’t just a thing, is it?” Tony asked, studying him in the dim light and Tim could have kissed him. Later, though, because there’s this thing that needs addressing.
“Nooooo,” he said slowly.
“Good.”
Tony pushed his chair away and stood, quickly circling the table to pull him up as well. They looked at each other for a while, and Tim thrilled at being the focus of those eyes, and he’d always known that that mouth could make a sinner out of a saint.
Later on, after a thorough demonstration that this wasn’t merely any random thing but actually was something in the sense that they were now officially together - and boy was it a demonstration he’d be feeling for days to come - Tony produced a small box from underneath his pillow and said, “Just so we’re clear, I’m saying that I love you here, McGee.”
END
a/n: There really is a book called "Probalistic Robotics (Intelligent Robots and Autonomous Agents)" written by Sebastian Thrun.
Also, Director Shepard and not Vance because I liked her better (Vance doesn't exactly exist in my world, sorry).