Tony could hear Tim in the bathroom, slapping on the cream which
Ducky, who never wrote prescriptions for anyone, had given in and
prescribed for him. Tony would be eternally grateful for that.
Although he would never have admitted it, even in private, Tony felt
bad for Tim. He felt even worse, a twinge of guilt hitting his gut,
as Tim came out of the bathroom with thick white cream smeared over
his face and tube socks on his hands to keep him from scratching at
himself like, Tony thought, a cosmetics-testing rabbit in a PETA
brochure.

"Lookin' hot, Tim," Tony said blandly, turning a page in his book.
Tim, in sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt to keep the poison ivy
ointment from smearing on the sheets, sat on his side of the bed.

"You don't have to stay. It's not like I'm up for anything
tonight."

"You don't say." Tony smiled at him. "And here I thought we could
make out a little. I've never kissed a leper."

Tim was clearly not in a joking mood. At all. "Fuck off, Tony."
He slid under the sheets, wincing a little as he pulled the covers
up over his crotch. Tony threw down his book and turned onto his
side, propping up his head on his hand and leaving a good eight
inches between him and Tim.

"Of course, just because we can't do anything doesn't mean we can't
talk about it." He put his hand on Tim's chest, feeling his warmth
through the shirt.

Tim frowned. "I'm not in the mood."

Tony shrugged, making sure to roll his shoulders a little more than
strictly necessary, and lay on his back. "You don't have to be. I
was just thinking about some of the stuff I used to do back in
college."

"Stuff Kate knows all about by now, I assume."

"Oh, I don't think so." Tony replied. "Steve wasn't involved. He
was always kind of straight-laced, if you catch my drift. Real Boy
Scout." Which made him perfect for Kate.

"Like me, I guess," Tim snapped. He really wasn't in the mood, Tony
thought. But Tony had always loved a challenge.

"Sure. Only a little...straighter." He smiled. "You ever been in
a circle suck, Tim?" Tim might have blushed a bit, or it might just
have been the poison ivy. "That's when..."

"I know what it is," Tim interrupted.

"Oh, yeah? Well, you MIT types probably get off on the engineering.
It's a little too complicated for me. I'd take a table tramp any
day."

Tony could feel Tim trying not to ask. As usual, though, he gave
in, although not before a good twenty seconds had passed. "What's
that?"

"It's where you sit on the corner of your desk at NCIS and I suck
you off in front of the whole department." Tim's Adam's apple
bobbed beneath the red, irritated skin of his throat. Tony leaned
in closer. "Especially Gibbs. Can you imagine him walking in on
that?" Clearly, Tim could. He shuddered a little, and his eyes
slid closed.

Bingo, Tony thought, moving in for the kill. "You know Gibbs, Tim.
He's such a control freak he couldn't just watch. He'd have his
hand down my pants before you could say 'closet case', and I know
you couldn't resist, either. You'd jerk him off, and it'd look so
damn hot I wouldn't even be jealous."

He'd never been jealous of Tim's obsession with Gibbs. Tony
understood the appeal only too well, and he also knew there was no
chance of it ever going anywhere. Gibbs had been married three
times for a good reason, and that was because he loved women.
Exclusively. And even if he didn't, he would rather die than sleep
with a subordinate, especially one as deeply mired in hero worship
as Tim was.

So Gibbs had Tim's professional admiration, and Tony had Tim's
friendship and his body. Disfigured as it was at the moment, that
was still a deal Tony could live with.

Tim snorted, then reached up with one of his sock-encased hands and
rubbed at the side of his face. Tony said: "Hey, none of that,"
and Tim reluctantly put his hand back at his side.

"You have quite a way with words, you know that, Tony?" Tim was
smiling now, even as he surreptitiously rubbed his leg against the
sheets. Tony decided to let that one go. Poison ivy was a bitch,
he'd learned that the hard way, too. It was the way he learned
everything, including that little tidbit about Gibbs being entirely
straight.

"Plenty more where those came from," Tony replied. "Enough to tide
us over until you're not catching anymore." He leaned over and
turned out the light, pulling up Tim's bedspread.

"A circle suck, huh?" Tim said, softly, after awhile, as Tony was on
the brink of drifting off. He smiled without opening his eyes.

"Gibbs'd never go for it, Tim." At least not outside their mutual
fantasies.

"No," Tim agreed, sounding thoughtful. "But Abby might."

And that, Tony thought as he felt Tim shift beside him, was
something to tide them both over until Tim was back in action.

Even if the wildest thing Tony had really done at college was drink
a keg with Steve and throw up on the dean's Mercedes.