Ficlet: Sneaky Kisses-Relieved (NCIS, McGee/DiNozzo)
Title: Sneaky Kisses - Relieved
Author: tigerlady (that's me!)
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: McGee/DiNozzo
Rating: Pretty PG
Spoilers: none
Summary/Notes: So there's this wonderful community called mcsmooch, which was set up by sheafrotherdon to from time to time have celebrations of kissing between McKay and Sheppard (of Stargate Atlantis). I love it very much. But earlier this year, I mentioned to kageygirl that it was too bad that we didn't have such a fest for Tony and Tim. She agreed. I decided to create my own little fest, but, well, I'm slow.
That's the really long-winded way to say this is the first of several Tim/Tony kisses, all on the theme of "Sneaky Kisses".
*smooches*
Tim's not sure how to take a breath. Somewhere, somehow there are muscles that draw down, that let the lungs fill up, but he can't get them to work. He opens his mouth--and then air rushes out of him, and oh, yeah, you have to do that first. He gasps clean air in, and then does it again, and finally his body and brain are synching up. Still can't hear anything. He knows the bullet was close, but he didn't think it was all that loud. Just a little bottle-rocket sizzle as it sped by his head. Definitely not as loud as his own gun firing.
Tim blinks, and realizes Tony's in front of him, saying something.
"I'm okay," he says, but Tony's reaching for his head. His fingers, usually comfortably warm, burn fire across Tim's temple. "Ow!" he shouts, rearing his head back--and that's when he sees the crimson smeared across the pads of Tony's first two fingers.
Apparently the bullet came a little closer than he thought.
Tony's the one who looks like death warmed over, though. Like twelve hours into a twenty-four hour bout of food poisoning. Tim snorts. One of these days Tony's going to remember not to eat the mystery takeout in his refrigerator. Even if he swears up and down that it's yesterday's shrimp lo mein. The thought makes him snort again, only it sounds like a high-pitched girlish tee-hee.
"Okay, McGiggles," Tony says softly. He tightens his grip on Tim's forearm; his right hand is still hovering hummingbird-like above Tim's temple. "You're okay. Just a little scratch. Ducky'll patch you up just fine. Not a problem at all."
Tim nods--and wow, he's got a headache. "I am fine," he says, finally recognizing Tony's paleness for what it is. He reaches out, wanting to reassure physically, too, but he doesn't get close enough to do more than brush the line of Tony's jaw before he sees Gibbs.
"You okay, Tim?" Gibbs is using his gentle voice, too, and that says more than enough about how close Tim came to having hamburger for brains.
"Fine," he says again. His voice is creaky. He shouldn't be this shook up, no matter how close a call it was. Gibbs wouldn't be this shook up. Tony wouldn't be this shook up if he was the one with a temple graze. Tim heaves himself to his feet--he doesn't remember how he wound up on the ground--but his knees wobble before he gets his bearings. Gibbs and Tony both reach for him. "I will be fine, anyway."
"Of course you will." Gibbs smiles. "Get Ducky to take a look at that, and then give Ziva a hand. DiNozzo, start taping off the scene."
"Right boss," they both murmur. Gibbs pats Tim on the shoulder, then strides off, purposeful as ever.
Tim starts to follow, wobbly knees or no, but Tony still has a vice grip on his forearm. Tim watches him watch Gibbs for three paces, four, and then he's being hauled to the side, behind the shallow cover of a stack of garbage bags. He knows what's coming, but he's still unprepared for the desperation of Tony's hug. Or the gentleness of his kiss.
"Never. Do that. Again," Tony growls out, right in Tim's ear. Tim nods once, even though they both know there's nothing he could have done differently, and then presses his own quick kiss to Tony's lips. Tony carefully combs his fingers through Tim's hair, right above the wound. Then he sighs and steps back. "Now come on. Let's get you to Ducky."
Author: tigerlady (that's me!)
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: McGee/DiNozzo
Rating: Pretty PG
Spoilers: none
Summary/Notes: So there's this wonderful community called mcsmooch, which was set up by sheafrotherdon to from time to time have celebrations of kissing between McKay and Sheppard (of Stargate Atlantis). I love it very much. But earlier this year, I mentioned to kageygirl that it was too bad that we didn't have such a fest for Tony and Tim. She agreed. I decided to create my own little fest, but, well, I'm slow.
That's the really long-winded way to say this is the first of several Tim/Tony kisses, all on the theme of "Sneaky Kisses".
*smooches*
Tim's not sure how to take a breath. Somewhere, somehow there are muscles that draw down, that let the lungs fill up, but he can't get them to work. He opens his mouth--and then air rushes out of him, and oh, yeah, you have to do that first. He gasps clean air in, and then does it again, and finally his body and brain are synching up. Still can't hear anything. He knows the bullet was close, but he didn't think it was all that loud. Just a little bottle-rocket sizzle as it sped by his head. Definitely not as loud as his own gun firing.
Tim blinks, and realizes Tony's in front of him, saying something.
"I'm okay," he says, but Tony's reaching for his head. His fingers, usually comfortably warm, burn fire across Tim's temple. "Ow!" he shouts, rearing his head back--and that's when he sees the crimson smeared across the pads of Tony's first two fingers.
Apparently the bullet came a little closer than he thought.
Tony's the one who looks like death warmed over, though. Like twelve hours into a twenty-four hour bout of food poisoning. Tim snorts. One of these days Tony's going to remember not to eat the mystery takeout in his refrigerator. Even if he swears up and down that it's yesterday's shrimp lo mein. The thought makes him snort again, only it sounds like a high-pitched girlish tee-hee.
"Okay, McGiggles," Tony says softly. He tightens his grip on Tim's forearm; his right hand is still hovering hummingbird-like above Tim's temple. "You're okay. Just a little scratch. Ducky'll patch you up just fine. Not a problem at all."
Tim nods--and wow, he's got a headache. "I am fine," he says, finally recognizing Tony's paleness for what it is. He reaches out, wanting to reassure physically, too, but he doesn't get close enough to do more than brush the line of Tony's jaw before he sees Gibbs.
"You okay, Tim?" Gibbs is using his gentle voice, too, and that says more than enough about how close Tim came to having hamburger for brains.
"Fine," he says again. His voice is creaky. He shouldn't be this shook up, no matter how close a call it was. Gibbs wouldn't be this shook up. Tony wouldn't be this shook up if he was the one with a temple graze. Tim heaves himself to his feet--he doesn't remember how he wound up on the ground--but his knees wobble before he gets his bearings. Gibbs and Tony both reach for him. "I will be fine, anyway."
"Of course you will." Gibbs smiles. "Get Ducky to take a look at that, and then give Ziva a hand. DiNozzo, start taping off the scene."
"Right boss," they both murmur. Gibbs pats Tim on the shoulder, then strides off, purposeful as ever.
Tim starts to follow, wobbly knees or no, but Tony still has a vice grip on his forearm. Tim watches him watch Gibbs for three paces, four, and then he's being hauled to the side, behind the shallow cover of a stack of garbage bags. He knows what's coming, but he's still unprepared for the desperation of Tony's hug. Or the gentleness of his kiss.
"Never. Do that. Again," Tony growls out, right in Tim's ear. Tim nods once, even though they both know there's nothing he could have done differently, and then presses his own quick kiss to Tony's lips. Tony carefully combs his fingers through Tim's hair, right above the wound. Then he sighs and steps back. "Now come on. Let's get you to Ducky."