Author: Jilly James
Fandom: Hawaii Five-0, NCIS
Characters: Tony DiNozzo, Steve McGarrett
Genre: Slash, hints of BDSM
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: Steve needs to let go. Tony knows how to help.
Warnings: No beta
Author Note: The poem used below is Let These Be Your Desires by Khalil Gibran
– – – –
Steve walked out of the bathroom and took in the dim room, lit only by a few candles. The bed was turned down and he realized the linens had been changed to the softest sheets they owned. In other circumstances, with another couple, it might have been romantic, but he knew it was about intimacy, deep intimacy, and whatever he needed to go on this path.
He was tired.
Not his body, but his mind and his heart were worn down, straining for some respite from everything. When he was in this headspace, he needed a way to let go, to uncoil the knots building in his psyche. And his lover, his partner… his beloved, was the first person to ever figure out how to do that for him.
He’d tried knots and restraints, whips and paddles, but he could never quite… let go. That thing he needed had remained elusively, frustratingly, out of reach.
Then Tony had come into his life. The beautiful man who gave Steve everything. Who allowed Steve to hold him down, to fuck him until they were spent, to use his body like Steve’s own house of pleasure.
Most days, that’s what he needed—Tony under him, moaning and writhing, and surrendering everything that he was. But then Steve would start to feel uncomfortable in his skin, stretched tight by life, and he needed more.
So wrapped up in his ruminations, the shutting of the door startled him. He hadn’t heard Tony enter—so comfortable with the other man that his situational awareness would ease and he could be surprised.
A strong hand found the towel at his waist and pulled it away, letting it fall to the floor. Tony took his hand and led him to the bed, maneuvering Steve until he was in the middle, on his back. The only rules were, once the door was shut, Steve wouldn’t talk and he wouldn’t touch. He always broke the rules, but that was the point. Once Steve could no longer maintain his control, Tony would know he had succeeded in bringing Steve out of himself.
He never knew what to expect other than it would be soft. Something so gentle and intimate that it would be a struggle to endure, until that moment when it shifted and he wanted more.
Tony pressed up against him and stroked a hand over Steve’s chest, lips pressed to his shoulder. Once they began, Tony would always be in contact, never pulling away, never leaving Steve to feel alone.
Lips and hands seemed aimless, but so tender Steve wanted to turn away from it. He wanted to tell Tony to do it. Do something. Fuck him. Hurt him.
His hands curled into fists.
Tony cupped his balls and just held them, nothing more, just holding. His lips trailed slowly over Steve’s neck. It wasn’t licking, or tasting, or even sex. It was just love.
Steve squeezed his eyes shut.
Time seemed meaningless. Tony loved him endlessly, wearing down Steve’s internal resistance, his control. No part of his body was left unloved and he trembled under the weight of it.
Hundreds of gentle kisses and soothing touches later, Steve could almost feel what he needed hovering just out of reach. Normally this was enough, but tonight he needed more. He didn’t know what, but he was desperate for it. Desperate to get there.
He was rolled onto his side, one leg pulled up and tender fingers passed over his hole, finding that he was already slicked.
Tony curled around him, lips pressing against Steve’s neck as a hard cock slid between his thighs. He wanted to tighten his legs around it, but that would be construed as touching, so he forced himself to be still.
Those sinful lips moved to press against Steve’s ear. “Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself,” he began, voice low and soft, making Steve shudder. “But if your love and must needs have desires, Let these be your desires:”
The unfamiliar words flowed over him and he trembled.
“To melt and be like a running brook, That sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness.” Tony’s hand pressed tight to Steve’s belly.
“To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully.”
Steve fought back a whimper. Hid did bleed joyfully… for Tony.
“To wake at dawn with a winged heart, And give thanks for another day of loving;”
He took a gasping breath and squeezed his eyes shut again.
“To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;” Tony said so softly Steve could barely understand.
He felt the surrender sweep over him and his body melted against that of his love.
“To return home at eventide with gratitude;” There was a note of pleading in the words.
Steve would always return to Tony.
The arms tightened around him. “And then to sleep with a prayer, For the beloved in your heart, And a song of praise upon your lips.” Lips trailed along his jaw, a feather-light caress.
“Tony,” Steve gasped, unable to not call out for who he needed.
A moment later, the thick head of Tony’s cock breached his body and Steve was lost even as he came home.
Hours later, Steve woke, feeling safe in himself again, and even more in love with the man sleeping next to him.
He rolled to his side and watched Tony sleep in the dying candlelight. He touched his lips to Tony’s, barely a caress, but the pressure was returned as green eyes blinked open.
“I love you,” he whispered against Tony’s mouth.
“I know,” Tony returned softly, curling his arms around Steve and pulling him close.
Steve smiled, feeling completely content. That had been the bigger hurdle between them. Not Tony admitting he loved Steve, but accepting that Steve loved him in return.
He touched Tony’s cheek. “My beloved.”
“All that I desire,” Tony whispered.
– – – –
Poem by Khalil Gibran
Let These Be Your Desires
Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself
But if your love and must needs have desires,
Let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook
That sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart
And give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer
For the beloved in your heart
And a song of praise upon your lips.
– – – –
The Big Short is a short-story challenge on Rough Trade based on thematic or character prompts. The maximum word count for themes is 1k, for characters it’s 2k. They are not beta’d. I re-read them looking for errors but that is all.
Each short story is complete as is. They will not be expanded on, there will be no sequels, they are probably not connected to anything else, and they are not intended to prompt other writers. If you find inspiration in them, that’s lovely, but please write your own thing. My works are not up for adoption.