torn at the edges
pairing: tony dinozzo/timothy mcgee
length: 1.4k
description: fuck rule 6, tony decided, and fuck rule 12. they weren't worth it if they were hurting mcgee like that.
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Tony fiddled with the corners of the envelope that sat, sealed on his desk. Despite his urge to read what was enclosed within the crisp white paper, the nagging dread held his fingers back from ripping it open, instead just leaving the very edges of the seal bent and nearly torn.
There was no questioning who it was from, or what it was regarding - Tony knew from the moment he first saw it atop a pile of unfinished paperwork, set aside the previous night in favour of prospective alternatives, which had, at the time, seemed far more joyous than slaving away at his desk till some god-only-knows hour of the morning. As such, the butterflies within his stomach - not butterflies though, of course, something much more manly, and strong, and more Anthony DiNozzo like - were not a result of some memory he tried to bury deep in the back of his brain being unearthed, instead it was simply what it seemed; Tony was just stuck with an asphyxiating fear of what the words within, surely having been typed on that goddamned typewriter, and what they had to say.
His usually decisive mind fretted about what he was to do, as the timer ticked down before Gibbs made his mind up for him, sick of Tony’s messy thoughts flowing through the whole office, creating a generally unpleasant and on-edge atmosphere. Taking one last look at the empty desk to the side of his own, he tore the seal of the envelope open, without any care or finesse, pulling the letter out as quickly as he could, his mind now past the question of whether or not to open it, only now curious about what was contained within.
Skimming his eyes over the words on the page, Tony found that as he had predicted, written - or rather typed - in the signature style of the man who should have been sitting to his right as of well over an hour ago, but instead had been overcome with what had been skeptically announced by the boss as the flu, with a very pointed look delivered straight to DiNozzo, a clue containing Gibbs’s usual lacking level of subtlety, telling him that even if the note did contain the plague as one of a similar staging had years ago, that was the least of his worries, in the case that he failed to fix his fuck up.
Shuddering at the reminder of that certain set of consequences, Tony simultaneously felt vicious waves of regret pulling him under as he read what was written. Honest words from a heartbroken man, he quickly identified, all too used to hearing words that shared a remarkable similarity, but not from his best friend -- just from women who had read into something never meant to mean anything.
What only worsened the remorse was the knowledge that it was his fault - Tony wasn’t any stranger to self-flagellation, but in this case, it was more deserved than the majority. Instead of pausing, taking a breath, even just spending one fucking moment thinking about what he should say, he had just let his mouth speak without a second thought, bullshit pouring out as easily as it ever had, words that meant nothing, despite the perfect opportunity to say everything that actually meant something.
Reading what Tim had to say only set his regrettable words on repeat, a bad movie that he couldn’t turn off, no matter how hard he tried to do that very thing. Fuck Rule 6, he declared to himself, and fuck Rule 12. They had failed him this time.
“I think that the Probie could do with some soup, since he’s so sick.” Tony announced, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair, looking to Gibbs, who nodded, a wordless response that he took as approval to up and leave, to do far more important things than complete the ever-piling paperwork.
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The drive to McGee’s apartment happened almost without Tony’s awareness, his focus solely on his destination, and what - or rather who - he would find, rendering him oblivious to the brief journey. His fingers tapped a rhythm on the steering wheel of his car, a symptom of his restless mind that simply would not settle until things were, for lack of a better word, settled, with McGee.
Once he parked, Tony couldn’t quite pull himself to get out of the car and speak to Tim. It was strange - he had always been a man of action, and previously, his conviction to fix what he had broken between them had seemed unbreakable - but in this case, it seemed daunting to do what was necessary. After a moment of letting his own nerves overwhelm him, Tony decided that the fact it was so intimidating was reason enough to do it. There was no way he was going to let a mere conversation get the better of him.
Setting aside his apprehension, Tony knocked on the door twice, waiting for a response from the man inside.
“I’m fine Abs, you don’t need to be here.”
Tony couldn’t help but laugh, despite the situation that lay beyond the door that he was more than dreading. Although tempted to mock Tim’s mistake in identifying who he was, he figured that in this case, it probably was better not to, to choose not to be an asshole. The last thing he needed was another thing to apologise for.
“I think you’ll find that I’m not Abby, McGeek.”
Okay, so not entirely un-teasing, but better than he could have been. There was a moment of silence, which Tony assumed was Tim deciding whether he wanted to take a trip down the fire escape stairs to get away from the looming conversation, before heavy footsteps came towards the door, followed towards the clicking of the lock.
The door opened in front of him to his friend looking… worse for wear, certainly. While never as preoccupied as Tony with how he appeared, he was generally not a slob when dressing, going to some effort to look semi-presentable when he expected visitors, but that wasn’t remotely visible in his current outfit.
That wasn’t at all to say that Tony didn’t think Tim looked absolutely adorable in his worn old hoodie and sweatpants, with an expression that looked equal parts sad and pissed off, but entirely pathetic.
Yeah, Tony wasn’t remotely sure how he had almost let McGee slip through his fingers - actually, he knew exactly how, and it had everything to do with years of intimacy issues that probably stemmed from a neglectful childhood or something or other, but it was hardly the time and place to unpack all that - so he returned to his plan to remedy that.
“I got your letter, McWriter, and I-”
“Stop it, Tony,” He was cut off, McGee clearly not wanting to hear what he had to say (not that Tony blamed him at all for that). “I don’t need you to make fun of me any more. It was bad enough for me to tell you… that in the first place, and then the letter. Can we just leave it in the past and move on?”
Tony almost felt bad for shaking his head at Tim’s plea, clearly oblivious to what Tony had in fact come to say. He let the silence sit stagnant for a second, before attempting to make a casual confession.
“Y’know, Tim, I’ve had a thing for you from when you were so green that just looking at a dead body made you green in the face.”
It was as though the words took a few moments to enter McGee’s head, and then another couple to process, the whirring of a computer working overtime could just about be heard through the pin-drop silence. Even when the words did seem to make their way through McGee’s brain, he only tilted his head, as though puzzled by what Tony was sure were perfectly clear words.
He scrunched his face up, deep in thought, before Tony decided enough was enough, and it was time to put him out of his misery.
“I’m into you, Tim. I’m sorry for not saying this before, but given how little your brain seems to be processing right now, I’m sure you understand how I felt. How about we break rule 12 together.”
Tony watched, heavily amused, as McGee’s jaw fell slack and his eyes opened wide, before he began spluttering for words to say.
“You...what? Y- uh-”
After a moment, Tony figured it was only fair to put the poor guy out of his misery and took a step towards him, leaning in until their faces were only centimetres apart.
“Is this okay?” he asked a still speechless McGee, who only nodded, before Tony pulled him even closer.
