All I Want for Christmas

I don't want a lot for Christmas

There is just one thing I need

Greg watched Nick sleeping beside him as he carefully tugged on the drawer in the bedside table. He heard the soft slide of wood on wood but it wasn't enough to wake Nick as he slowly inched it open wider. He cautiously rolled to his side and slid his hand into the dark recess and felt around the familiar shapes--lube, box of condoms-- reaching further back until his fingers brushed--

He scowled and pulled the drawer out hard, the coal briquette rolling to the front.

"You've been a bad boy, Greggo." He could feel Nick's laughter vibrating through his chest as the other man rolled on top of him. "I warned you about snooping," he drawled in Greg's ear. Greg tried to squirm out from under him, but Nick's knee was already pushing between his thighs, spreading him open. When Nick's hard cock nudged his ass Greg forgot his fleeting thought to hold out until he got his gift and pushed back eagerly.

"Hmm...very bad." Nick reached for the lube.

"If you say Santa's going to have to punish me, I'm outta here," Greg warned. He conveniently forgot Nick already knew he really did have a Santa-spanking fetish and somehow managed to keep his voice suitably pissy to match the threat.

Undeterred, Nick's slick fingers pulled at Greg's hip to raise him up enough to meet Nick's equally slick cock. Greg groaned long and loud when Nick pushed inside. The burning stretch wasn't enough to slow him though and he started humping up and down, seeking a steady rub against his prostate.

"Easy," Nick warned, holding his ass flat on the bed and trying to regain control.

"It's good," Greg panted. He wiggled so Nick sank deeper and scraped teeth against Greg's shoulder to keep from yelling.

"Amazing," Nick only grunted a moment later, scooting back to let Greg move, up on his knees and fucking himself back onto Nick's cock. Nick watched and big hands played with Greg's ass to improve the view. "Fuck," Nick muttered, fingers touching where they joined. Pushing in—

I don't need to hang my stocking

There upon the fireplace

--and pulling out again to just the tips of his fingers, spitting on them again to ease the next push in. There wasn’t any coal in their stockings, but there wasn’t any lube either and how many times did you have to save the galaxy before you got a little something extra to celebrate the holiday right?

But really Rodney couldn’t have cared less what Santa or anyone else thought about them. When John twisted his fingers, Rodney’s hips bucked against the cold metal of the worktable. He bit his lip and shoved back into the rough jab against his prostate. A raspy needful groan escaped and Rodney braced himself on one hand as he reached down and jerked himself off. John’s mouth nipped his ass as the other hand nudged Rodney’s legs wider apart despite his pants around his ankles and there may have been a cramp starting in his hip but Rodney couldn’t have cared less when more fingers wiggled between his legs and stroked behind his balls.

“Turn,” John muttered against the back of his thigh, more spit slicked on his fingers before oh. “There, yeah,” John snuffled against his hip as he kissed his way around, inching around on his knees to meet Rodney halfway and forcing his head between Rodney’s legs from the front. Teasing wet swirls of tongue and lips on his balls made Rodney gasp and whimper as he thrashed against the pants keeping his legs too close together. He kicked the low shelf under the table and then kicked it again in frustration before he realized—“Yes, oh god—genius--” John yanked on his laces and wrestled the boot off before helping free his leg of pants and underwear and lifting his foot up on the shelf, holding it there. Just a few inches made all the difference and John’s mouth sucking his balls— fuck--

Rodney spurted into his fist and leaned fully on the table to keep from falling after his orgasm left him weak as a kitten. He listed backwards, his spine protesting the awkward contortion, but then John slid up his body, rough clothing chafing against sweaty skin and Rodney clung to him for dear life as his body convulsed with tingly aftershocks.

John was opening his pants as he kissed Rodney hard and desperately. Rodney was going to be fucked within and inch of his life and feel it until New Year’s because no lube and it was hotter knowing it was only them sliding together.

John guided Rodney’s wet hand to his cock. “Slick me--”

I don't care about presents

Underneath the Christmas tree

“—up,” Daniel urged, guiding Jack back onto his knees. He was shaking like a skittish colt and he didn’t bother trying to lift his head back onto the arm rest of the couch. He brought his arms up to use as a pillow under his cheek and for leverage if Daniel tried to pound him into the cushions again. He damn near suffocated a few minutes ago and he told himself that was why he was still panting, not because Daniel put both hands flat on his ass cheeks and pushed lightly, nudging him up higher. Looking at him twitching and wet from the fucking he’d just got.

Daniel’s fingers curled into the crevice of his ass and pried him open again, his own harsh breath ghosting over the sensitive skin.

Jack groaned and pretended to wiggle because of his knees, not because he wanted Daniel to just do it already. He started to grumble when the first lick swiped over his hole.

“Fuck,” he hissed, jumping a little at the brutal contact. The Christmas tree lights next to his head blurred and he gave up trying to focus and just closed his eyes when it was back just as quickly as it left, fucking into him. Greedy tongue-fucking, like there was mistletoe shoved up his ass.

He choked on a laugh at that, the ironic scent of pine filling his nose as he gasped when Daniel started to suck in earnest.

Jesus. The intrusion of Daniel’s tongue was always harder to take than his dick. It sucked out every blessed gift he just gave Jack, leaving him empty and hungry for more. Always more.

When he finished, Daniel would kiss him, and Jack felt his dick twitch at that thought. Daniel’s annoying, wicked, lightening quick, blithering, bitter tongue in his mouth was the gift that kept on giving all year round.

“Merry Christmas, Jack?” Daniel asked smugly, his wet and juicy lips gliding over Jack’s tailbone as he moved—

I just want you for my own

More than you could ever know

--Gibbs’ shorts out of the way and nosed his way into the sweaty crease between his hip and groin. Gibbs’ musk scent filled his nose and Tony was hard. He licked the salty skin and probed into wiry pubic hair.

“DiNozzo--” Gibbs growled. He stumbled a little with Tony wrapped around his knees but he managed to slap the lock home on the locker room door. He pushed his fingers into Tony’s hair and pushed his head back a little.

Tony licked his lips and grinned at him, deliriously happy and unbelievably fucking horny.

So there was no one around because it was Christmas Eve and the locker room was closed for plumbing repairs. Gibbs still stuck to his workout routine (a cold shower never deterred him before) knowing Ducky had sent Tony (because McGee and Ziva weren’t stupid enough to agree) to make sure he would be at the party on time. So Gibbs was letting his brush cut down and giving Tony this fantasy--this gift-- on a shiny silver platter.

Tony’s fingers were tugging Gibbs’ sweat damp shorts down over his hips, just enough to get at his half-erect cock. “Let me suck you, boss.” He didn’t need to see Gibbs sharp nod before he buried his nose into the thicket of hair again and inhaled. He grabbed Gibbs’ ass for balance and the older man grunted a half-hearted warning out of habit even as he palmed his cock and rubbed it against Tony’s cheek.

Tony turned his head to lick the head and Gibbs used his fingers to pry Tony’s mouth open and feed the whole length to him. A hard hand on the back of his head set the pace Gibbs wanted and Tony had to touch himself because he needed to come with Gibbs fucking his mouth and shooting down his throat.

Just like this.

No-- Gibbs pulled out of his mouth, one hand on Tony’s cheek to keep him still as he jerked himself off the last few strokes and came against Tony’s lips, watching him lick up as much as he could before it ran over his chin and neck and stained his shirt. “Open,” Gibbs ordered gruffly, letting Tony gently suck and clean the softening shaft as he wiped Tony’s face with his fingers and slid them back into his mouth as well.

After a moment Gibbs’ free hand grabbed Tony’s collar and pulled him up. He twisted Tony around, one arm pinned behind his back and Tony panted and kissed the fingers still caressing his mouth. He leaned back with his head on Gibbs’ shoulder and Gibbs’ knuckles brushed his jaw. Tony saw carefully hidden emotions flicker to the surface for a moment before he blinked and Gibbs’ eyes were just dark with lust again.

They were facing the mirror and Gibbs looked ahead so their eyes met in the glass and then his eyes flicked to Tony’s bulging pants. “Go on then.”

Tony barely contained the noises trying to rip out of his throat as he opened his pants and jerked himself off with Gibbs watching. Gibbs pressed his lips to Tony’s temple and whispered, “I want to see you kiss the Director with that mouth tonight.”

The sudden image of kissing Madam Director’s smooth cheek with mock holiday cheer at Ducky’s party, still smelling and tasting like Gibbs, made Tony come hard in his fist. He arched back into Gibbs’ strong hold before the waves of pleasure passed and his knees buckled.

Gibbs had him under the arms. “Whoa. I got you.”

He steered Tony to the bench and he slumped back to enjoy his afterglow. “That was--” Tony started, slurring a bit, “damn, Boss--”

Gibbs slapped him lightly on the head in agreement and then kissed him hard to shut him up before he started gushing again.

When Gibbs went to take his shower, Tony tried to fumble with his pants for a moment and then he just slumped back again. He grinned at his shoes and waited.

Make my wish come true

All I want for Christmas is you

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