Up against the Wall, Numb3rs, Colby/Ian, R
Title: Up against the Wall
Fandom: Numb3rs
Pairing/Characters: Colby/Ian, Gary Walker
Rating: R
Warning: Slash
Wordcount: 501 words
Summary: For emmademarais who wanted Ian and Colby in dress uniforms.
Sometimes Ian hated his job. Why did he have to go all knight in shining armor and play rescuer for Colby who seemed uncomfortable with the assignment Don and David were trying to pin on him… He should have sensed it was a trap, the way they were laughing at Colby.
That’s how he found himself striding across Hollywood boulevard in a skimpy red dress, all tarted up and with heels that were probably illegal in at least half the states of this country. And probably lethal too.
No more undercover joint operation with LAPD. No more knight in shining armor. Nope.
Now he was being dragged by some burly john toward a dark alleyway, trying to tamp down his usual self and not look threatening when the douche shoved him against a wall and felt him up, when a patrol car came around the corner, flashing lights. The cops in uniforms came out of the car.
“Officer Granger and Officer Walker. Put your hands flat on the hood.” Both Ian and the client put their hands over the car. Ian was playing along to keep his cover. Walker patted his client down and Colby began to do the same to Ian. Though Edgerton was wondering where he would hide anything in such a fitted piece of tissue.
“Nothing to hide, Ma’am?” Ian could feel Colby smirking without even turning. He gritted his teeth and tried not to mouth him off.
“No, sir,” he muttered, shivering when Colby’s hand began to slide along Ian’s tight, going up and up, he could feel the dress being lifted higher and higher, partially exposing his ass to anyone who could wander into the dark alley. He tried to push the dress back.
“Hands on the hood,” Colby snapped. His commanding voice made Ian’s dick twitch.
“Yes, sir,” He flattened his hands back on the hood automatically. This side of Colby was turning him on. Maybe he wasn’t the Boy Scout everyone thought he was.
He stiffened when Colby suddenly palmed his crotch, “Is that a gun, ma’am?” Colby asked while outlining Ian’s cock through his boxers. He was now pressed against Ian’s back and he could feel the agent’s erection poking through his cop uniform.
“No, sir,” Ian stammered. He noticed that Gary Walker was smirking at him too now, that bastard.
Colby slapped his ass with the flat of his palm. “You’re free to go. But just this once.” And with that, Colby was back in the patrol car, like nothing happened, leaving Ian dumbfounded in the cold night air, his dress on his hips.
To say he was pissed off was an understatement. He put back his dress in place harshly.
Soon they would see why Ian was called the bastard son of Clint Eastwood and Yoda. He could wait. Revenge was best served cold anyway.
Suddenly, the cell phone hidden in his fake boobs vibrated. ‘MEET ME AT MY FLAT IN AN HOUR. KEEP YOUR UNIFORM ON, I’LL KEEP MINE.’
Revenge could wait.