A/N: WARNING: CONTAINS AN INCIDENT OF GRAPHIC NON-CON GROPING -
Story Note: Wrote the 1st five chapters of ths like three years ago
- and had it BETA'D then by the awesome BETA GOTTAHAVEMYNCIS - Thank you again for that!
Tony's eye lids felt plastered to his eyeballs and the world around him wouldn't stop screaming - all at once - as if he could understand them all or even hear it all, the traffic outside, the birds and even the appliances in the kitchen and his alarm clock just a few feet away from him. On top of that world wouldn't stop spinning and the rolling of his stomach sent a feeling of doom through him that set off a multitude of shivers until he could no longer stop them.
With the heat of the morning sun glaring at him through his plastered eye lids yet not warming the rest of him, the young man couldn't stop himself from turning away from the burning sensation, only to find himself so close to upchucking the contents of his stomach, whatever they might be, he barely managed to find the trash can in time.
Completely spent and weak, Tony dropped back down to the bed, his breathing labored and painful as his mind finally kicked online. He'd never felt like this before; so whatever he'd done - he'd been completely wasted doing it and God, he hoped he hadn't done anything stupid or crazy or, oh, God,... What the hell did he do last night? He reached for the trash can yet again, all thoughts grinding to a screeching halt.
***NCIS***
"Where the hell's DiNozzo?" Gibbs barked as he strode through the squad room at seven in the morning. When he received no answer, he stopped and glared first at Ziva and then at Tim. Doing a double-take, he strode over to the young man's desk. "McGee? You alright?"
Exhausted from a sleepless night, in pain stemming from several injuries that he could not talk about, despite the obviousness of his facial injury that may very well be a broken nose, and desperately in need for this to just go away, Tim slid his usual façade in place and nodded slightly, only glancing at his boss as he answered him, despite the pain and swelling his words were muffled through. "Yeah, Boss. I'm fine."
The Team Leader remained where he stood; scrutinizing the young man, whose penchant for understating his own situations when they were troublesome was matched only by his inherent honesty. Both kept Tim under the radar on most days. But not today. With his Senior Field Agent MIA and his youngest agent looking like death warmed over and in obvious pain from what looked like a broken nose, the Team Leader was suddenly in no hurry to brush any of this off. He certainly didn't believe in coincidences. His mind began running amuck trying to sort out the pieces
McGee had gone home - supposedly to catch up on much needed sleep after the rough back to back cases this week. And Tony, well, his Senior Field Agent was supposed to have been headed to dinner with some college buddies of his. So what the hell happened? McGee's nose looks like it damn near got broken and he obviously didn't get any sleep at all. Just what the hell was going on around here?
Since it was obvious McGee wasn't going to tell him anything, Gibbs frowned and moved forward, getting back to the point- which, at the moment, happened to be his Senior Field Agent's status, which appeared to be that of missing. "Seen DiNozzo this morning?" Gibbs asked Tim.
Stopping in his work, Tim's hands froze. In fact, his whole body froze. How the hell was he supposed to answer that? Sure, Boss, I saw him at one in the morning when I got called by the bartender to come rescue his drunken ass from the bar his friends ditched him at? Or, Sure, Boss, I saw him at one thirty this morning right after he...
Tim bolted for the head, suddenly sick to his stomach, every step jarring his already hurting body sending a streak of agonizing pain through his lower body, making the awful memory that much sharper. Somehow making to the toilet in time, Tim sank to the floor in the stall, his back against the wall as he slid as far from the porcelain god as he could for the moment as he forced his stomach to calm down. Suddenly, he couldn't stop the tremors, the cold sweat or the memories from coming back.
***Flashback***
"Why are you here, McBuzzkill? I'm not drunk!"
"Really? That why the bartender called me and begged me to come get your ass AGAIN? So he wouldn't get fined for you trying to make out with every one of his employees - including the bar back, Tony?" Tim snapped back tiredly.
"Hey, just 'cause he stocks the bar doesn't mean he wasn't damned good lookin' just like me, I'll have you know."
"Can it, DiNozzo. Just get your ass in my car so I can drop you on your couch and let you sleep it off! How much did you have to drink this time, anyway? And where the hell are your so called friends?"
"Did you just say 'drop me' McGee? Tony leered as he bodily pushed himself into Tim's face. "'Cause ya know, I always knew you swung like that! And...And...I want...ya...know...cool...with...that..."
Tim pushed The Senior Field Agent just enough that the older man dropped down into the Porsche's passenger seat. Exhausted and very short on patience and compassion on this fifth such rescue in two weeks, Tim physically stuffed the rest of the man's body into the car, slamming the door angrily as he walked around to the driver's door.
Dropping down into the driver's seat, he was treated to a wagging finger in his face. "Shou...slam...doo...Pro..."
"Stuff it, DiNozzo!" Tim bit back with no filter.
Tony's head fell back against the seat and blessed silence moved in, giving Tim's nerves and his anger a chance to recuperate.
Thankfully the ride to Tony's apartment was quick and just as quiet. Having to get out and manhandle the older, heavier man up to his apartment and over to his couch, exhausted Tim and he stood breathing heavily for a minute. Next, he headed to the cabinet that he knew contained the supplies the drunken man would need. Knowing they were there both calmed his nerves and angered him because it reminded him that he'd put them there after the last rescue from his almost nightly binge, just two nights ago.
He didn't understand what was happening to his teammate, going out getting drunk two or three times a week here lately, coming in to work more ragged every time. Tonight had been the fifth time he'd rescued Tony from a bar in the last two weeks and he was not only tired, he was fed up.
Coming back to the living room, he gave the older man the same instructions he'd been giving him lately. "Go to sleep. Everything you'll need when you wake up is right here. You've got your bottle of water, your trash can and your headache killer, all lined up for ya."
A drunken Tony surges to his feet, grabbing on to Tim for balance. "DiNozzo's can handle their drinkin' Probie. I don't need to sleep! What I NEED is to get laid! You're horny, aren't ya Timmy! YOU NEVER get laiddd! Cause you are gay,huh?" Tony sprouted off loudly as if gaining his second wind while he stubbornly continued to reach for Tim, battling the younger man's attempts to hold him off.
Tim stepped back in horror, giving Tony a small enough push that the older man fell back harmlessly to the couch. This was a Tony he'd never expected and certainly wasn't prepared for. "Okay, Tony. I'm just gonna go now." Turning around, Tim's feet moved, desperately needing to put some space between them.
He'd reached the apartment door, only to find himself violently shoved into the door beneath the unexpected weight of one drunken Tony DiNozzo as he held him in place with his body's weight, breathing in his ear, smelling of booze and puke; the combination of which turned Tim's stomach almost violently Swallowing desperately around the bile in his throat, Tim cried out as the older man gyrated against him, his breathing getting hot and heavy, as his moans grew louder and more sexual.
"AH! OW!" With a sickened feeling in his gut as the older man's lower body moved against his own, Tim realized that Tony had somehow managed to strip himself of his pants and that clothed only in briefs now, was even more overly excited in his drunken stupor. In short, what Tim was getting assaulted with was a nearly naked older, stronger man! Tim began to freak out, his breathing harsh and irregular, already painful with his probably broken nose, his heart beating wildly in his chest as panic began to set in. Even the feeling of blood flowing from his face, along with the smell of it, was adding to the increasingly overwhelming feeling, a nightmare of epic proportions.
"Thaats, it, Timmy boy! Always KNEW you like it like thisss!" Tony's slurred words were still streaming out of his mouth as his seemingly steel plated fingers greedily and painfully groped Tim through his sweats, repeatedly squeezing his already hurting rod and even reaching for his scroctrum, squeezing painfully there as well .
"Tony! STOP! OW!" Tim's body was awash in agony, startled into an even more uncomfortable sensation that of his totally plastered teammate's hardened muscle shoving itself against his backside in shaky, yet aggressive thrusts repeatedly while noisily expressing his intense pleasure, crass words still spewing from his mouth.
"TONY, STOP!"
"Don't mean that...like it...know ya do...No pain, No gain, huh, Lover boy? OOOH, AAAH.!" Tony gloats as his hands kept groping, greedily, incessantly, Knew...you'd beee good." The older man breathed excitedly into Tim's ear as he pushed him into the door harder, his thrusting harder now. "Tole ya, I neeed to g.. laid. Waant u ... know y want ...uck me too." Tony slurred. His mouth coming crushing Tim's ear as it plasters a slobbery kiss there loudly. A hand doubled down on Tim's crotch and squeezed again, this time so painfully, the younger man saw white, nearly passing out as he screamed out in pain as Tony's words kept coming, his actions out of control.
"OW! Tony, stop!"
" You're so hot, I'm cumin' already! Ooh! AAhh! Ngghhh!"
As pain roared through him and ricocheted inside his body from the aggression coming at him so unexpectedly, Tim jerked back, dislodging the finally lax Tony off of him and staggered through the door, slamming it behind him - pain screaming through him in multiple places with every step he took- away from the possibility of it becoming something much worse.
***End Flashback***
Sitting huddled in the bathroom stall now, his vision's clouded with the memory of it as every moment of it paraded through his mind in vivid color replay. Breathing raggedly, he returns to the here and now. He needed to pull himself together. This wasn't anything he wanted to involve anyone else in so he didn't want or need them asking questions. Pulling himself to his feet slowly and with pain still lancing through his privates as well as his face, he took himself over to the sink and cleaned himself up. As he gently dried his face, he forced it all down deep, sliding on a mask of calm he was far from feeling, willed the pain to subside - and stepped back outside the bathroom, momentarily leaning back against it for support.
***NCIS***
Tony doesn't remember going to bed last night. As he struggles against the hangover enough to sit up, he frowns at the blank spot in his memory. How'd he get home? Gingerly swinging his legs over the bed, he stood to his wobbly feet, reaching out to hold on to the bedframe until the world stopped spinning. It'd been a long time since he'd gotten so drunk he couldn't remember anything from the night before.
It wasn't a feeling he enjoyed and he knew it wasn't something Gibbs would be happy about. As Federal Agents, they were never supposed to let themselves get to a place where they were completely unaware of their surroundings or lose track of what happens to themselves the way he obviously did last night. No doubt, the boss would be pissed about. No one ever came in this late and not catch hell for it. get to that point. Gibbs would hit the roof for sure. When his eyes happened on the bedside clock, he swore. "Damn it!" Now the boss would have a hell of a lot more to be pissed at him about.
Forcing his feet to move, he headed to the living room to search for his phone. As he stepped foot inside his living room, he froze. What the hell happened in here last night? The coffee table's contents were sprawled all over the floor at the far end of the table and where the hell's my phone?
Stumbling to hallway table where he kept his keys, he found his phone, his eyes sweeping the area out of habit, his breath stopping at what he saw on the door. Was that blood? And more on the floor?
Shaking now with the force of visual evidence that something bad happened here that he didn't remember; Tony snatched his phone from where he spotted it, hit the speed dial for the boss and struggled to breathe.
"Where the hell are you, DiNozzo?"
Boss, I think something bad happened last night?" Tony choked out.
"Where are you, Tony?' Gibbs anger audibly evaporated, instantly replaced with concern.
"My place."
"Your place. You think something bad happened? You don't remember?"
"Got pretty wasted last night, Boss." Tony admitted shakily. "There's blood on my door and it's not mine. A spot on the floor, too."
"Got more than wasted if you don't remember, DiNozzo." Gibbs reminded him quietly. "Stay there and don't touch anything. Don't even shower. We'll be right there."
"We?" Tony croaked out.
"It is a potential crime scene, Tony."
"Guess it is. Okay. Don't touch anything. Don't shower. Got it. Guess I should have eaten before I called in, huh?"
"Just do as I said."
Gibbs snapped his phone shut. Looking around his squad room he frowned at the still empty desk of his youngest Team member. "Where the hell's McGee?"
"He is still in the head." Ziva told him quietly, now concerned for both her teammates. She knew something was wrong with Tim and now she'd heard enough to know that Tony was in trouble as well. "I will go get the others."
"Tony's not dead, Ziva."
"Perhaps not, but that does not mean he is completely well, if he cannot remember what happened."
"Yeah. Okay. Get Ducky. Tell Palmer he needs to stay behind." Gibbs relented as he strode toward the men's bathroom. Stopping mid-stride as the young man in question appeared in front of them, still trembling and still looking like he was in physical pain.
"McGee! Get your ass in gear, Tony's in trouble; something happened at his place last night. He can't remember anything but he found blood in his apartment that's not his."