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Title: Just. Like. That.
By: sandersyager
Pairing: Abby Sciuto/Anthony DiNozzo
Fandom: NCIS
Prompt: 038. Touch
Word Count: 647
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Abby's in a tiny little dress. Tony's in the men's room. Total PWP.
Author's Notes: Because I promised blueraccoon smut to read when she returned.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.

***

Yeah, he really shouldn't have been doing this. Not during work, not in the middle of case. Probably not ever, but goddamn, she wore that little black dress with those big ass boots and then leaned ever so casually over the table, pointing out some detail in the photo. Then she knocked the evidence envelope off the table and bent down to retrieve it and he was a goner.

The dress, with it's little bondage gear corset design, was bad enough. The revelations of what she wasn't wearing under it made his blood rush from one head to another fast enough to give him a headache. There was no way he could go back upstairs to his desk with hard on he was sporting. No way that wouldn't get noticed and he was in no mood to listen to Ziva mock him or his package for the next twelve hours.

So, it was either duck into the men's room near autopsy or bend Abby over her desk and fuck her stupid. Tony didn't think she'd appreciate the latter, not with the amount of work he'd just dumped on her. Not that it was his fault, the MacNamara case wasn't exactly straight forward. Triple homicides rarely were, and with two separate scenes to process, none of them were leaving work before midnight. Add in the missing MacNamara twins, and it was a good bet that they were working through the night and sleeping in ten minute rotations, if they were lucky.

He almost, but not quite, felt guilty for thinking about sex when there was work to do, but he was a man first, agent second. Abby in that dress confirmed it. And it wasn't like he could control it, not really. It wasn't like he wanted to be standing in the rarely used men's room with his dick in his hand.

What he wanted... Tony wanted to be somewhere with Abby kissing him, with her tongue making him crazy in that particular way she had. Somewhere with her breast under his fingers while she whined softly in the back of her throat. God, the sounds she could make, each one going straight down his spine, straight to his cock. The way she'd whimper when he sucked her earlobe, squirming in his lap, all softness and heat. Yeah, that's what he wanted.

Tony leaned his head back against the cool tile wall, jeans loose around his hips. He settled into a familiar rhythm, a few quick strokes, once over the head. This wasn't about pleasure, it was about necessity, and he really didn't have the luxury of time. Much longer and Gibbs would start looking for him. As much as he liked to think the Boss would understand, maybe even offer to help him out, he knew that was about as likely as Abby turning up in a slinky pair of Jimmy Choos.

Now that was an idea he could get behind. Abby in a pair of strappy black Fuck Me pumps, wearing nothing else but a smile. Yeah. That would work. Shaking her hair loose as she looked at him over her shoulder, slow smile spreading across her lips. Maybe... maybe she'd lick her lips, gasping as he slid his hands over her hips. She'd be in those heels, leaning over, ass in the air, just begging for him... Yeah.

"Yeah," Tony whispered, pushing against his palm, feeling that familiar tingle in the base of his spine. "Just. Like. That," he groaned, coming hard and fast. He slumped against the wall for a moment before reaching for a paper towel.

By the time he emerged into the hall, he was whistling.

"Tony, just the man I was looking for," Abby called from the door of the lab. Tony sighed, dropping his head as he walked toward her. At this rate, he'd never get back to his desk.

***