ebonyfeather (ebonyfeather) wrote,

Spring Cleaning

Fandom   - NCIS
Pairing     - Tony / Gibbs
Rating      - R-15
Summary - Tony finds all kinds of interesting things in his desk when he'd tidying.
Notes       - For [info]ncis_temptation May prompt- Desks, Dressors, Drawers etc. Also a nod to the opening of episode 6.21.


Spring cleaning



Tony DiNozzo rummaged around in his drawer and added a few pens to the growing pile on his desk. When they began to roll over the edge, he caught them and dumped them back on the top before digging into the drawer again. Pulling out a brown envelope, he frowned, opening it to peer in at the contents.


“Tony, what are you doing?”


At Ziva’s voice, Tony jumped.


“Spring cleaning,” McGee informed her, coming around to sit on the edge of his own desk. He eyed the messy heap.


He set the envelope down again and picked up a photograph.


He and Gibbs had been out at the Chinese New Year celebrations a few months ago and he’d asked a passer by to take a picture of them. They’d both been so relaxed, the worries of work forgotten as they’d partied. Well, he might have assisted Gibbs’ partying a little with the wine they’d shared at dinner before they went out to join the celebrations. They had both been slightly tipsy by that time, enough for Gibbs to drag him into a doorway and kiss him senseless as the procession went past unseen by either of them.


Tony loved this picture; they both looked so happy. He smiled and slipped the photograph into the inner pocket of his jacket before Ziva or McGee saw it.


They were both watching him now, waiting to see what else came out of the drawers.


Another few pens, a notepad, and then a shirt. Tony examined it carefully. There was a coffee stain on the front; one of the hazards of surprising Gibbs in elevators.


That hadn’t been a good idea. They’d been enjoying a morning kiss on the way up to the office, Gibbs still holding his coffee in one hand, when the doors dinged unexpectedly. Usually they were the only people in the office that early but not that day. They jumped apart, Tony catching Gibbs’ elbow and jarring the coffee cup, splashing it.


He dropped it into a bag next to his chair before going back to his rummaging.      


He came across a bag of jelly beans and offered the packet around, but McGee eyed it suspiciously.


“Are they out of my desk?”


“Might be. Anyway, I’m giving you them back.”


McGee still looked at them warily. “What have you done to them?”


“Nothing,” Tony insisted. “Jeez.”


Ziva reached over and took the bag. “May I?”


“Go ahead: I don’t really like them anyway. See, McGee; she trusts me.”


McGee rolled his eyes. “If you don’t like them, why get them out of my drawer?”


“Can’t remember,” Tony lied.


The office had been silent, everyone else having gone home ages ago, and Tony was bored. Gibbs was still doing something-or-other and completely ignoring him. He stretched the rubber band between his thumb and forefinger and flicked another missile in the direction of the mug on Ziva’s desk. His aim was getting better, he thought, though not by much. After the jelly bean bounced off Gibbs’ computer and rolled across his desk, the older man sighed loudly and closed the file he was reading.


“Don’t you have anything to do?”


“I could have, but you won’t play,” Tony responded. He pouted, sprawling in his chair and trailing a hand down his stomach, lower, leaving Gibbs no doubt as to where it was now. “So, I’ve got to amuse myself.”


Gibbs smiled. “Maybe you should come over here and let me watch.”


Tony’s smile reappeared as he blew a kiss at Gibbs. “Can’t; you’re busy, remember?”


Gibbs dumped the file in his drawer. “Okay, you win. Let’s go home.”


Bounding out of his chair, Tony was in the elevator before Gibbs had even picked up his coat. 


Ziva, still eating the jelly beans, eyed the growing pile of what she classed as junk. For someone who kept the bare minimum in her desk, just the items she needed such as her gun, badge, stationary and files she was working on, she couldn’t work out why Tony insisted on filling his desk with clutter. Sure, he spent a lot of time playing around and not doing a whole hell of a lot, but still, this was a little excessive.


“When was the last time you actually used any of this?”


Ziva put down the sweets and fished through the pile with the end of a pen, refusing to touch anything, and lifted out a pair of red, fluffy handcuffs with it.


“These, for example,” she said, looking at them critically.


“Last Friday.”


“But why are they in your desk?”


He could see the moment she put two and two together and laughed as Ziva’s nose wrinkled in disgust. She dropped them back onto the pile hastily.


“Oh, I did not need to know that!”


Tony grinned at the expression on her face, wondering if any of the scenarios racing through her mind at this point were even close to the truth. Probably not, he thought. Ziva was probably picturing some bleached-blonde big-boobed beach-bunny rather than a certain silver haired, blue eyed ex-marine.


He hadn’t actually thought that Gibbs would ever use them; he’d left the handcuffs in his desk as a joke in place of his standard ones. Which is why he was more than a little surprised when he found himself with the fluffy cuffs around his wrists, restraining his hands in front of him. He didn’t expect Gibbs to still have them in his desk; he thought Gibbs would have got rid of them before now in case anyone else found them. Then again, he reasoned, who would be suicidal enough to go rummaging through the boss’s desk?


Gibbs had taken him to the interview room, pressing him up against the two way mirror. Tony could watch in the mirror as Gibbs fucked him, keeping his eyes locked with his lover’s. He had no way of knowing if there was anyone at the other side of the mirror; anyone could have seen them but that just added to the thrill.


Tony reached the bottom of his desk drawer and began to load it all back in again. Ziva watched for a while, looking confused.


“I thought you were tidying?”


He nodded.


“You are putting it all back!” she said.


“Your point?”


“Tidying implies that you are going to dispose of something,” she continued. “You cannot possibly need all of the crap you keep in there.”


“I do,” he insisted. “Sentimental value.”


Tony glanced up as the elevator chimed and Gibbs came striding into the office, a cup of coffee in one hand. His eyes widened slightly as he saw Ziva poke at the fluffy handcuffs again with the end of her pen.


Following his eye line, Ziva and McGee scattered moments later, leaving Tony smiling innocently up at Gibbs.


“Get this lot off your desk, DiNozzo.” The older man set his cup down and leaned over Tony’s desk, his gaze flicking to the handcuffs and then back to the other two, still listening.


“We’ll talk about this later,” he said.


Tony grinned. “Promise?”


He really shouldn’t bait the boss, he thought as he cleared his desk back into the drawers, but it was just so much fun. He couldn’t wait to get home.








Tags: fiction: slash, tony dinozzo / leroy jethro gibbs, tv: ncis
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