Wherefor you knowing it?

Happy Sunday! Here! Have some relentless fluff about leather pants. If you've seen 701 you'll know exactly why I wrote this, if you haven't, it's not going to spoil you for anything. Readthrough by the fair and delightful soupytwist. ♥

Tim/Tony, PG-13, 1300 words, takes place between somewhere mid-season 5 to sometime before season 7 starts.

Tim wants leather pants. Tony has other ideas.



I'm thinking of buying some leather pants," says Tim, straddling Tony, an escaped lock of hair falling into his face.

Tony pushes the lock back where it belongs, smiles fondly and says, "No."

***

"So, I was debating between brown and black leather pants. Black's kinda classic, but brown's more subtle."

"Leather pants are never subtle. And if they are you're doing it wrong." Tony lowers the paper he's reading and peers at McGee over his sunglasses (hangovers are a bitch but he's not giving up on Tank McNamara, not even before the DiNozzo Defibrillator kicks in). "Are you thinking of taking up motorcycling?"

"No."

"Then no leather pants for you, McFly."

"But T-"

Tony raises a hand and shushes him. "But me no buts, Timothy. Not gonna happen."

Tony thinks he hears McGee muttering, "You're not the boss of me," and, frankly, he's right, but there are points of principle and if Tony doesn't always remember what his are, he knows one thing: no leather pants for McGee.

***

"Abby says there's a sale on at Wilson's. I could get some really cool pants, maybe even suede."

"Didn't we already have this conversation? I believe the answer was 'no'," Tony slurs, head buried in his arms.

"Persistence is a positive trait in an investigative agent," says Tim, digging his thumbs hard into the flesh between Tony's shoulder blades.

"Ow!"

"Sorry. Distracted," says Tim, though he doesn't sound sorry at all, and strokes out the mistreated muscle with soothing fingers.

"Look," says Tony, feeling vaguely annoyed that he's been dragged out of his massage coma, "you had the jacket and that was very cool. Very soft and pettable, and hot, definitely hot, but it was...it was borderline you, and leather pants are a big step up. You can't just put some on and expect to be Ben Browder, there are issues, McRawhide, there are concerns."

There's a cold space on Tony's legs where Tim used to be. Tony twists around and finds himself faced with a narrow-eyed guy with slippery hands. This could potentially be troublesome.

"So you're saying I can't carry off the look?"

Tony does briefly consider lying because McGee's hands are clenching into fists and he's kneeling really near some parts Tony holds very dear, but he has to hold the line. It's for the long-term good.

"Not even with your four out of five ass. Sorry. The only thing that gets to be leather bound is your books."

"But you could pull it off?"

Yes, thinks Tony, yes I could because I am awesome. He could even wear white after Labor Day, that is how sartorially capable he is. But he says, "Wouldn't want to," and it's the truth.

"Hmmph," says Tim and, "Turn over, I hate leaving a job half done."

Tony rolls over, pillowing his head on his arms. Victory is his. For how long is anyone's guess.

***

"Honestly," says Tim, "I don't see what the problem is with me having leather pants."

Given that they're getting ready for work in companionable silence, it takes Tony a few seconds to tune in. "Did you have a conversation with me in your head, already? Because I have no idea-"

It's interesting. Tony's not sure he's seen anyone button up their shirt angrily before. Though come to think of it, that's probably because he usually used to leave before the buttoning-up stage.

"We've had this conversation three times, Tony."

"Yes," agrees Tony. He's not been counting, but McOverlyretentive tends to be right about this stuff. "But not in the last half hour. There needs to be a lead in to these things, you don't jump right in. This isn't interrogation."

Tim scowls and Tony adds hastily, "You. Leather pants. The buying thereof. I get it."

"So you think I should get some?" Tim's face relaxes for a split second before Tony's reply.

"No." And the scowl is back.

Tim drops down onto the edge of the bed. "Do you know what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object?"

"Nope," says Tony, cheerfully. "I've never met an object I couldn't move."

"Who says you're the irresistible force?"

Tony just looks at him. "Come on. Irresistible force is my dictionary definition, Probilicious, look it up."

Tim's bottom lip comes out and Tony thinks, uh oh, immovable object. He sighs and sits down next to Tim, who doesn't move, of course.

"Okay, so you want to know why no leather pants for Timmy?"

"Because I can't pull them off," says Tim with a curl of his lip.

"Wrong. The correct answer is because I can't pull them off."

"You're jealous I can wear leather pants and you can't?"

"What? No! Are you insane? I would look awesome in black leather pants. Point of fact, back in Peoria, I- Okay, so not what I'm trying to say." Tony twists and takes Tim by the shoulders, giving him a little shake. "I can't pull them off you. That's why not. Leather pants are sweat factories, McGlandular, and even after a couple of hours getting the damned things off is some kind of logistical nightmare dreamed up by a warped and diseased mind."

"I don't-" starts Tim, but Tony ploughs on.

"And also?" He flaps a hand in front of his nose. "Pee-ewww. Seriously stinky. So factor in the time it will take to extricate yourself from the clutches of damp leather plus the showering time to make yourself presentable and that's...well, that's too long."

"Too long for what?"

"Timothy, Timmy, Tim," says Tony, cupping Tim's face. "Too long to wait for you. You walk into the room looking all smoking hot in leather pants and I want to do you right there, right then. I can't be waiting while we figure out how to get you out of those things and then get you to an appropriately high standard of hygiene if I'm gonna put my mouth on you. It's not doable. I have impulse control issues, you know that."

Tim's mouth is twitching. "Are you serious?"

"Mmhmm." Tony strokes his thumb over Tim's lower lip and watches as Tim's eyes blacken. His own heart starts to speed in response.

"You really couldn't wait?" Tim's tongue flicks out and wets his lips.

Tony swallows hard. "No," he says and, "Fuck it, we're gonna be late for work again."

***

Tony's knee deep in DVDs, trying to figure out if he should shelve the James Bonds chronologically or alphabetically. It's possible he's putting too much thought into this. Tim's...doing something...Tony's heard him buzzing away for a while now, but he has no clue what he's saying.

"So, I thought while I'm at the store I could see if they have any leather pants."

Tony drops the DVD he's holding and looks up to find Tim standing over him. "What? No! I thought we were done with that."

Tim flashes a grin. "Got your attention, didn't it? Now do I need to pick you up anything or not?"

"We're out of grape jelly," says Tony, trying to frown, but his facial muscles refuse to co-operate, insisting on beating gravity instead. "Also, I don't think I love you any more."

"Yes, you do," says Tim, still grinning, as he picks his way through the DVD cases. "Come on, Jethro."

"No leather pants!" shouts Tony as the door closes behind Tim. And then wonders if anyone's invented the no-sweat, easy-peel variety yet. Huh. Someone should get on that. Maybe there's a grant. Just let him get these DVDs shelved first.

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