Chuck sat up, slowly coming down from a high he'd never experienced before. Casey was nuts if he thought he was gonna go home just like that, he pushed down the sudden stab of rejection, grabbed the towel hurriedly cleaned himself off and half hopped, half fell to the bathroom door pulling up his shorts along the way.

Casey stood hung over the sink, his erection torturing him. What the fuck was he playing at? This went against everything he stood for. This could completely jeopardise the asset. At least by some miracle, he managed to refrain from serious intimate contact. As much as it killed him, he thought the show would get it out of his system but he just wanted more.

He stared at his reflection, Chuck's words flooding back; he said he had thought about him before. God, he wanted to know those fantasies. No. He was better than this. All the years of training were not about to be undermined by some lanky nerd who wanted to learn to tango. "Ugghhhh." Distance. Fine, distance is all he needed. Hard admittedly in this line of work but possible. Otherwise, the only alternative would be to leave the mission completely...

Chuck flung the door open before Casey could finish the thought. "I told you to leave Bartowski." He pushed off the sink and walked to the shower turning it on. Making sure his back was kept facing the moron.

Chuck just stood there unbelieving what he was hearing and the worst part, Casey didn't even have the decency to look at him. Chuck felt anger rise. "What the hell are you playing at Casey?"

Back to formalities thought Casey, good. "We're done here, forget it happened and go home."

"F-forget it happened!" Chuck slammed the door behind him needing to release some of the rage. "Forget what exactly?! That we made out on the sofa like a couple of preteens. Or-or that you admit to watching me masturbate?" He cursed himself at whispering the word.

"It's orders. I have to watch you." Replied Casey, hand out testing the water making sure it was as freezing as possible.

"Bullshit."

That made Casey turn away from the cold shower, he had never heard the kid curse before, he honestly thought he didn't have it in him.

Chuck stared at him hard, Casey's face was back to the usual stone but he was still flagging a massive erection.

Chuck softened, almost hitting himself for not registering Casey's feelings, he could see now there was some sort of conflict, the man was in pain, even if his face refused to show it. "What's really going on, John?"

Casey could handle that blazing angry stare Chuck had going but now his eyebrows were crinkled in worry and his eyes were honest. What was it about this stupid kid that just made him want to abandon everything he made himself into? He had to tear away before he did something stupid, he turned back to the shower undoing his shirt.

"My orders are to protect you, that is the extent of our acquaintance. Go home."

Chuck wasn't giving up, he refused to abandon Casey. "But… you're ordered to keep the intersect safe right? Well, right now you're hurting the intersect."

Casey finished with the last of his buttons and his fists clenched. Why was Chuck still pushing this? It was so…fucking endearing. He hated it.

"So…" Chuck stepped closer. "I order you to let me touch you." He watched Casey's back muscles compress together. Half of Chuck was screaming at him to run, to flee from the impending beat down he was about to receive. But the other half told him to stand his ground.

"Turn around."

And incredibly Casey did. His shirt open revealing the muscled front of his chest. Chuck's peripheral vision drooled at the sight but he refused to look anywhere other than the blue eyes in front of him.

"Take off your shirt"

Casey let it slide off his shoulders.

"And your trousers."

Casey undid the buckle without breaking eye contact and let them puddle to his feet.

"Boxers."

Every muscle tightened but Casey pulled down his boxers and stepped out.

"Come here?" The last wasn't an order, it was a plea. If Casey couldn't then Chuck would resign. As much as he wanted him and knew Casey wanted him too, he would leave if he thought it was causing Casey too much pain.

But Casey warily stepped forward as if his body wasn't listening to his head. Chuck couldn't help but smile in relief. 'You can't touch me fine. But let me help you.' He turned Casey so he was at the sink facing the mirror, Chuck stood behind him. His fingers started at Casey's tight shoulders. Like the tango, Chuck was taking control but this time, the touches were soft, ghosting fingertips dipping into the muscles of his back. Warm palms mapped him, relaxed him and cautiously slid round to his stomach.

Chuck watched him over his shoulder in the mirror. A tense face twisted in confliction. It hurt Chuck just looking at it. He tried to kiss it away, a tender kiss on the top his shoulder. His hands ran up and down Casey's chest leisurely admiring the sculpting. He kissed from one shoulder back to the other and settling up the side of his neck. Casey flinched but Chuck kept going soothing out the tension.

One hand pressed firmly on his stomach to anchor the agent, the right one seeking lower down the thick trail of hair. Casey looked down watching the hand scratch through his pubes before a single digit caressed the angled length.

Chuck watched Casey's reflection look to the ceiling letting out a ragged breath. Chuck took it as incentive and he did it again, then a nail delicately scraping up over the sensitive veins. Before finally holding it in his palm. Casey couldn't help the whimper.

Chuck was in no hurry, this was his own show. His unhurried, measured pulls may be slightly on the torturous side but the reactions were worth it. Casey's face showing honest emotions to Chuck's hand was a drug and Chuck desperately wanted to see more. But as much as Chuck wanted it to never end, this wasn't for him. His circled fist tightened and his movements incrementally quickened. The lazy tugs became determined and skilled knowing where to tighten and twist. He paid more attention to the painfully red head; with each swipe Casey would throw his head back.

His hand sped up and Casey leant into him, the back of his head resting on Chuck's shoulder panting hot air. If Chuck wasn't hard before this was aching him, this act of trust was louder than anything he knew Casey would be able to say. He studied the face next to his in the mirror, an image of unreserved beauty.

Chuck's left hand hadn't left it's supportive and grounded hold on Casey's stomach. But as his right hand got faster, he felt Casey's hand fold over the one on his stomach. Chuck kissed his neck again in supportive response. He could feel Casey was close. His fist pounded till Casey lurched forward gripping the sink with one hand and squeezing Chuck's hand with the other. Chuck's body followed him, pressing his weight into the arched back, and pumped the orgasm.

"Chuck."

Not a scream, barely a whisper. But Chuck heard it; he saw the lips mouth the word as Casey came hard into the porcelain. Chuck stroked Casey through it, still watching him in the mirror a sight he would never forget.