Untitled NCIS fic
Title: Untitled
Author: pooka_07
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing/character: Tony DiNozzo/Tobias Fornell
Rating: FRM
Word Count: 1199
Prompt:have you ever tried to...
Kink: quaranitne/locked in room, situational homosexuality between enemies or unlikely pair
Notes/Warnings: crack!pairing, prompted by: oldsoul56, written for rounds_of_kink round 15
Of all people that Tony could be locked into quarantine with, of course it had to be an FBI agent. And, because it was Tony, that FBI agent had to be Fornell.
“This is all your fault, DiNozzo, you know that, right?”
He ignored Fornell and continued trying to count all of the little pinprick holes in the cheap ceiling above him. He’d been at it for over an hour now and was still on the first square. He always lost track of where he was after about twenty or so. Partly it was because even with Lasik, his eyes weren’t what they were when he was younger, and partly because whatever hippie drug this company was researching just so happened to be stored in the same lab that one of the employees (a former marine, which meant NCIS took care of it, but the third murder in a string of similar murders and across state lines, which meant FBI showed their annoying faces) was killed in, and, of course, Probie had to knock over the vial, so now the effects were starting to distract him.
And wasn’t it just convenient that the company had it’s own quarantine room, complete with hazmat suits so Ducky could come in and take blood samples without risking himself to the unknown drug and it’s side effects?
Tony sat on the cool cement floor and tried to count those fucking pinpricks to keep from thinking about the chemical reactions going on inside of him right now. Fornell was perched on the only chair on the other side of the small room, wedged into the corner and elbows on his knees as he sat forward. His pupils were as dilated as Tony’s probably were, but other than a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, the man showed no signs of the same distress that Tony was experiencing. Though perhaps ‘distress’ wasn’t a strong enough word to describe fantasizing about climbing into Fornell’s lap and riding his cock until his ass was red and sore and leaking cum.
Someone had been kind enough to put a fan in the room to help cool them down, but the breeze it created was week at best and Fornell had pointed it at himself as soon as it was plugged in. Both of their teams made scheduled visits inside their little slice of quarantine hell, and Gibbs was the last one to show, nearly an hour ago. Each of them received a head slap to demonstrate just what the man thought of them and an then were told that they’d be left alone through the night because, even with their contamination crisis, there was still a murder to investigate and the Director felt that, since neither of them had dropped dead yet, the rest of Gibbs’ team could still work. In Fornell’s case, it was just standard FBI procedure to get the job done first and then worry about smaller stuff.
So Tony and Fornell got to sit in an uncomfortable, too warm and stuffy room while everyone else got to have fun solving the case.
Tony looked down from counting ceiling dots and jolted to see that Fornell was staring straight at him. His eyes skittered away instinctively, but he forced himself to meet the older man’s intense gaze.
“What?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how you managed to survive so long. It certainly isn’t your quick wit that saves the day.”
“Hey now, that’s just not nice. Besides, at least my department gets the job done. FBI just makes things worse.”
“Believe what you will, DiNozzo. At least we make the news.” They’d had similar conversations throughout the day, all of them ending with Fornell getting the last word in.
The edges of Tony’s vision blurred and the colors around him intensified and he hoped he was going through the last stages of the drug’s effects. His temperature skyrocketed and he felt like he was no longer completely in the room.
Across from him, Fornell’s forehead was dripping with sweat and Tony gasped out a breath.
“Hey Fornell, have you ever had a guy suck your dick?”
The agent shuffled in his seat and shook his head. The move looked like it was in slow motion to Tony’s eyes. “Really? Never? Man, you must have been all kinds of boring when you were in FBI school. Unless you were the one doing the sucking?”
“DiNozzo, not everyone is so desperate that they’d settle for anything like you are.”
Tony ignored him and rolled onto his knees. His body protested after sitting so long in one position on a hard cement floor, but he pushed himself forward anyway. “I did a lot of sucking when I was in college. Had a lot done to me, too. Like doing it better, though, ever since the first time when I was initiated into my frat house.” Tony was in front of Fornell’s spread knees now, blocked by the man’s arms, but close enough to lean up a bit and mouth at rough, hairy knuckles. When Fornell jerked his arms away, Tony squeezed himself between the older man’s knees and reached for his belt.
Fornell pulled back as far as the chair would allow him to, trying to get away from Tony, but it only gave Tony room to work. Those black slacks came off ridiculously easy, and if Tony didn’t know any better he’d say that Fornell wasn’t fighting him off as hard as he should have been. It didn’t really matter, because as soon as Tony closed his hand around that half hard cock in front of him and pulled on it, he was suddenly standing, stripped of his pants, and being lowered onto that lap he’s fantasized about.
He didn’t ride Fornell at all, the man’s fingers never went lower than his hips, but he sure as hell frotted like there was no tomorrow. Ragged breaths filled the room and moist gasps brushed past ears and dampened necks. Tony hid his face against the slightly padded shoulder of Fornell’s suit jacket and tilted his hips further as he rocked against the rock hard cock slotted against his own. They were both leaking precum and it slicked them up obscenely. Tony wondered briefly how he was going to wipe himself clean when all they had was a quarter of a roll of the cheapest toilet paper he’d ever seen (and he be damned if he brought it anywhere near his cock), but that thought was disintegrated when Fornell reach between them and squished their cocks together tightly in the grip of his fingers.
Tony came like he was sixteen again, hard and hot and all over the place. Fornell wasn’t much more dignified, although at least he didn’t moan like a little girl.
~
The murderer was caught the next day.
When the case was over and both Tony and Fornell were cleared for duty, everything went back to normal. Neither man acknowledged what happened that night they were locked into quarantine together. And if either of them happened to stare at the other a little longer than necessary, it was brushed off as professional suspicion.
Author: pooka_07
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing/character: Tony DiNozzo/Tobias Fornell
Rating: FRM
Word Count: 1199
Prompt:have you ever tried to...
Kink: quaranitne/locked in room, situational homosexuality between enemies or unlikely pair
Notes/Warnings: crack!pairing, prompted by: oldsoul56, written for rounds_of_kink round 15
Of all people that Tony could be locked into quarantine with, of course it had to be an FBI agent. And, because it was Tony, that FBI agent had to be Fornell.
“This is all your fault, DiNozzo, you know that, right?”
He ignored Fornell and continued trying to count all of the little pinprick holes in the cheap ceiling above him. He’d been at it for over an hour now and was still on the first square. He always lost track of where he was after about twenty or so. Partly it was because even with Lasik, his eyes weren’t what they were when he was younger, and partly because whatever hippie drug this company was researching just so happened to be stored in the same lab that one of the employees (a former marine, which meant NCIS took care of it, but the third murder in a string of similar murders and across state lines, which meant FBI showed their annoying faces) was killed in, and, of course, Probie had to knock over the vial, so now the effects were starting to distract him.
And wasn’t it just convenient that the company had it’s own quarantine room, complete with hazmat suits so Ducky could come in and take blood samples without risking himself to the unknown drug and it’s side effects?
Tony sat on the cool cement floor and tried to count those fucking pinpricks to keep from thinking about the chemical reactions going on inside of him right now. Fornell was perched on the only chair on the other side of the small room, wedged into the corner and elbows on his knees as he sat forward. His pupils were as dilated as Tony’s probably were, but other than a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, the man showed no signs of the same distress that Tony was experiencing. Though perhaps ‘distress’ wasn’t a strong enough word to describe fantasizing about climbing into Fornell’s lap and riding his cock until his ass was red and sore and leaking cum.
Someone had been kind enough to put a fan in the room to help cool them down, but the breeze it created was week at best and Fornell had pointed it at himself as soon as it was plugged in. Both of their teams made scheduled visits inside their little slice of quarantine hell, and Gibbs was the last one to show, nearly an hour ago. Each of them received a head slap to demonstrate just what the man thought of them and an then were told that they’d be left alone through the night because, even with their contamination crisis, there was still a murder to investigate and the Director felt that, since neither of them had dropped dead yet, the rest of Gibbs’ team could still work. In Fornell’s case, it was just standard FBI procedure to get the job done first and then worry about smaller stuff.
So Tony and Fornell got to sit in an uncomfortable, too warm and stuffy room while everyone else got to have fun solving the case.
Tony looked down from counting ceiling dots and jolted to see that Fornell was staring straight at him. His eyes skittered away instinctively, but he forced himself to meet the older man’s intense gaze.
“What?”
“I’m just trying to figure out how you managed to survive so long. It certainly isn’t your quick wit that saves the day.”
“Hey now, that’s just not nice. Besides, at least my department gets the job done. FBI just makes things worse.”
“Believe what you will, DiNozzo. At least we make the news.” They’d had similar conversations throughout the day, all of them ending with Fornell getting the last word in.
The edges of Tony’s vision blurred and the colors around him intensified and he hoped he was going through the last stages of the drug’s effects. His temperature skyrocketed and he felt like he was no longer completely in the room.
Across from him, Fornell’s forehead was dripping with sweat and Tony gasped out a breath.
“Hey Fornell, have you ever had a guy suck your dick?”
The agent shuffled in his seat and shook his head. The move looked like it was in slow motion to Tony’s eyes. “Really? Never? Man, you must have been all kinds of boring when you were in FBI school. Unless you were the one doing the sucking?”
“DiNozzo, not everyone is so desperate that they’d settle for anything like you are.”
Tony ignored him and rolled onto his knees. His body protested after sitting so long in one position on a hard cement floor, but he pushed himself forward anyway. “I did a lot of sucking when I was in college. Had a lot done to me, too. Like doing it better, though, ever since the first time when I was initiated into my frat house.” Tony was in front of Fornell’s spread knees now, blocked by the man’s arms, but close enough to lean up a bit and mouth at rough, hairy knuckles. When Fornell jerked his arms away, Tony squeezed himself between the older man’s knees and reached for his belt.
Fornell pulled back as far as the chair would allow him to, trying to get away from Tony, but it only gave Tony room to work. Those black slacks came off ridiculously easy, and if Tony didn’t know any better he’d say that Fornell wasn’t fighting him off as hard as he should have been. It didn’t really matter, because as soon as Tony closed his hand around that half hard cock in front of him and pulled on it, he was suddenly standing, stripped of his pants, and being lowered onto that lap he’s fantasized about.
He didn’t ride Fornell at all, the man’s fingers never went lower than his hips, but he sure as hell frotted like there was no tomorrow. Ragged breaths filled the room and moist gasps brushed past ears and dampened necks. Tony hid his face against the slightly padded shoulder of Fornell’s suit jacket and tilted his hips further as he rocked against the rock hard cock slotted against his own. They were both leaking precum and it slicked them up obscenely. Tony wondered briefly how he was going to wipe himself clean when all they had was a quarter of a roll of the cheapest toilet paper he’d ever seen (and he be damned if he brought it anywhere near his cock), but that thought was disintegrated when Fornell reach between them and squished their cocks together tightly in the grip of his fingers.
Tony came like he was sixteen again, hard and hot and all over the place. Fornell wasn’t much more dignified, although at least he didn’t moan like a little girl.
~
The murderer was caught the next day.
When the case was over and both Tony and Fornell were cleared for duty, everything went back to normal. Neither man acknowledged what happened that night they were locked into quarantine together. And if either of them happened to stare at the other a little longer than necessary, it was brushed off as professional suspicion.