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Title: Matinee
By: sandersyager
Pairing: Tony/Abby
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: These characters belong to CBS, Bellisario, et al. No copyright infringement is intended..
Spoilers: none
Summary: Tony loves taking Abby to the movies.
Prompt: 39. Taste, for Fanfic 100, my table is here.

***

Tony loves taking Abby to the movies. She's willing to see anything, especially the gory, cheesy horror movies and the classic black and white films he's learning to love. Noir satisfies them both, and they cackle through John Waters marathons down in Baltimore every few months.

Abby's far from a cheap date, demanding popcorn, a giant soda, chocolate, a hot dog and those silly lollipops with gum in the center. She rarely has the patience to lick them, either, she just bites through the sugar with a loud crunch and lets the pieces dissolve in her mouth before she leans over to give Tony cherry or blueberry flavored kisses.

This weekend, it's a Hitchcock double feature, Psycho and Rear Window, and Abby skips the hot dog, triples her request for suckers and Tony sighs as he watches the kid behind the counter slide his credit card. He's spent less on gourmet meals in some of the city's finest restaurants than he does to satisfy Abby's junk food habit.

They sit near the back of the theater, not that it matters. There are maybe twelve other members of the audience, fifteen tops, although Tony's sure the later showing will have a bigger crowd. Abby prefers the matinees, though, when they can catch them, and honestly, Tony does too.

Abby arranges her snacks in the seat to her right, Tony to her left, and she pushes the armrest between them up and out of the way to snuggle against his side. She's already started on the first of the three blueberry lollipops and he can smell the fruity sugary scent as the movie starts.

Rear Window is first, and Tony finds it interesting, but he's also seen it fifty times. His attention wanders, and inevitably lands on Abby. She looks like she could have stepped out of the celluloid herself, the lines of her tattoos stark against her pale skin and she wears a vintage black dress with her hair up in the little coils that remind him of Princess Leia but far more adorable.

Tony turns toward her, reaching up to trace his finger along the curve of her cheek and down along the side of her neck. Abby glances at him from under her lashes, a little coy, a little playful, before she brushes his hand away. "Watch the movie," she whispers, feeding him a piece of popcorn.

Tony kisses her fingertips and turns his attention back to the screen, at least for a few moments. Then he's back to watching Abby, the way her lips purse around the shape of the lollipop, and it occurs to him that she's not chomped through it this time. Maybe she's developed patience. Or maybe she's teasing him. His money's on the later, especially as she pulls the candy from her lips, darting her tongue out to taste it.

"Abby, stop playing with your food," he murmurs.

Abby gives him an innocent look. "Not my food I'm playing with, Tony," she whispers back.

Tony groans, softly, mindful of the fact that they are not alone. The presence of other people doesn't stop her words from going straight to his dick though, not anymore than it keeps him from thinking about having her lick him that way. Later, though, he tells himself, later.

Later, apparently, isn't what Abby has in mind. Tony hisses out a breath when she leans over to lick the side of his neck, her hand fitting between his thighs. She cups him through his jeans and he has to fight not to push back against her hand as she bites down, tugging at a tiny bit of skin and sending quick sparks of pleasure-pain through him.

"Not fair," Tony whispers. "Not at all." She knows that gets to him every time, and the way she uses her tongue to soothe the skin would have him moaning under any other circumstance.

"Shh..." Abby's breath ghosts across his skin, tickles his ear, and Tony lets his eyes close. There's no use in trying to resist, and besides, he doesn't want to. He wants to know how far she'll take it.

Her fingers are cool against his skin, her hand popping two of the buttons on his shirt and snaking inside. Tony gives a small whimper as she rakes her nails across his nipple, and he knows he'd get smacked if he tried the same thing in such a public forum. It'd be worth it, he decides, as she nibbles along his jaw and finally kisses him.

There's the taste of fake blueberry and sugar and just Abby against his tongue, and Tony rests his hand at the small of her back, pulling her closer. His other hand pushes against the edge of her skirt and Abby smacks his arm. "Patience," she murmurs against his lips.

Tony growls in the back of his throat, but it comes out as more of a purr. He can feel Abby smiling, secondary to the press of her hand against the fly of his jeans. The sound of his zipper seems impossibly loud and he expects the other patrons to protest any second, but when he opens his eyes to glance around, they're all absorbed in the action on the screen.

"Abby." Her name forms on his lips and her fingers cover his mouth before sound can emerge. She squeezes her other hand around his erection, and he whimpers against her palm, tilting his head to suck her fingers into his mouth. He's afraid to touch her, afraid she'll stop, and he slides lower in his seat as she bends to swipe her tongue across the head of his cock.

Jesus. Tony makes a half-articulated groan around her fingers, his hips jerking up as she teases him with more slow flicks of her tongue. His fingers dig into the armrest to his left, his other hand sliding along her back. He'd rather bury his fingers in her hair, but he's learned his lesson about messing with her coils and he's not about to do anything to interrupt the way she's lowering her soft lips down the length of his erection.

He runs a finger along her shoulder, her throat, up to where her cheek curves as she keeps that perfect, wet heat going, that incredible friction. He thanks god for oral fixations and a lack of inhibition and for near empty movie theaters and flirtatious goth labrat goddesses who aren't afraid to give head like they're starring in their own personal pornos as he leans against the back of the seat, closing his eyes tight as he tries not to cry out, as Abby swallows around him, and as he comes harder than he has in days.

Tony can only watch as Abby wipes her chin delicately with one of the paper napkins from the concession stand and smiles at him. She still tastes like fake blueberries and sugar when she kisses him, neither one covering the sharp taste of his own semen, and he isn't at all surprised when she pulls away to murmur, "Do we have to stay for the next movie?"

***