fredbassett | Fic, Numb3rs, Don Doesn't Know Much About Art, But ......Part 1 (?) 18

Title: Don Doesn’t Know Much About Art, But .......Part 1 (?)
Fandom: Numb3rs
Characters: Don Eppes, Ian Edgerton, Megan Reeves, Colby Granger, David Sinclair
Rating: 18
Warning: None, we’re all adults, I hope
Summary: Sequel to Undercover, posted to Numbers100
Disclaimer: Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Author’s Note: Written for admiralandrea, who wanted Don punished and Entangled_Now who wanted black tee shirts, now will you all please keep your damned plot bunnies out of my field while I try and finish Crossing the Line!

Don Eppes stalked out of the bedroom.

Megan Reeves followed him looking impressed.

Colby Granger made a strangled noise that sounded, even to himself, suspiciously like a giggle.

David Sinclair tried, and failed, to keep a straight face.

Ian Edgerton let out a long low whistle. “Inspired choice of outfit, Megan. Did you have to spray-paint those jeans on him?”

“Not quite, but he had to lie on the floor to do up the top button. I’ve told him they’ll loosen up when he walks but he’s still whinging.”

Don glared. “Hello, people, still your boss, remember?”

“I think the tee shirt might a bit too concealing,” said Colby, eyes travelling slowly over Don’s chest.

“If it was any smaller there’d be no point in wearing it,” groused Don.

“If it was any smaller, we’d have to arrest him for an offence against public decency,” David pointed out.

“Still might happen …….” muttered Edgerton. “OK, folks, we’re good to go in five, lover boy just needs a final briefing on structuralism, then we’re movin’. I want you all in position no later than midnight.”

“The draw was rigged,” grumbled Don.

His team filed obediently out of the door, all sneaking final looks at the sight of Special Agent Don Eppes wearing jeans even tighter than usual, topped by a skimpy black vest which contrived to leave absolutely nothing at all to the imagination, whilst, notionally at least, covering his nipples.

“Can’t I at least wear a jacket?”

“Most certainly not, it’s a private viewing, not a gallery opening. Strictly casual dress.”

“You rigged the draw!” said Don, returning to his earlier complaint like a dog to it’s vomit.

“Nonsense, sweetie, it was scrupulously fair. Megan did it.”

“Don’t call me sweetie. And she’s a woman. She’s quite capable of cheating when she wants to.”

“Stop making a fuss. You’ve done undercover work before.”

Yeah, but not dressed like the hooker slut from hell. “Why can’t you play the boy-toy? Why’s it got to be me?”

“Because you know fuck all about modern art. We established that yesterday. So I get to play the dealer and you get to play the boy-toy.” As an afterthought, he added, “You’re a sexy little varmint, Eppes, have I ever told you that?”

“It’s not too late for me to pull rank and send Granger in with you!”

“He’d never fit into those jeans,” Edgerton pointed out, doing his best to sound reasonable. “Speaking of which, you need to wriggle out of them for a minute.”

The look Don gave him would have stopped a charging rhino in its tracks. “Why?” The word was redolent with suspicion.

“There’s one last thing you need to complete your ensemble, darling. Now undo that button and peel ‘em down just enough for me to get at your ass. And hurry up, the cab’ll be here in a minute.”

Jesus H. Christ, thought the sniper as he rummaged in a pocket, there were very few things in this world hotter than Don Eppes in a foul mood.

He found what he wanted and fished it out. Don stopped in the middle of peeling his jeans down and backed away, a look of incredulous horror on his face.

The state of his jeans made movement tricky and he nearly ended up on the floor. A fact that Edgerton exploited mercilessly.

In two quick movements, the sniper had Don turned round and bent over the back of the sofa, pinned down by a forearm across his back, while the sniper fiddled with something using both hands.

“Edgerton, don’t you fucking dare!”

“It’s for your own good, Eppes. You haven’t been to one of Phoebe Masterton’s parties. I have. She’ll have every pervert on the West Coast there and your sweet ass ain’t gonna stand a snow ball in hell’s chance of getting out un-fucked without protection. Now shut up and take a deep breath. I haven’t got time to prep you properly and this might hurt, so be a brave boy and stop making a fuss.”

Don’s next remark got caught somewhere at the back of his throat as Edgerton slowly and inexorably shoved something cold and unpleasantly rubbery up his ass and even with the assistance of some very cold lubricant it still felt wrong. Just fucking wrong and if he ever managed to prove that Megan had rigged that draw, she’d be doing traffic for the rest of her life.

Butt plug in place, Edgerton gave Don’s distinctly outraged ass a light swat and stepped back to admire his handiwork.

It wouldn’t show through the jeans, but they were definitely tight enough that if anyone copped a close enough feel through the denim the splayed end would be obvious. Which was exactly what he’d intended.

Don glared.

Ian grinned.

Colby yelled through the door, “Cab!”

And Don tried, extremely gingerly and entirely without success, to pull his jeans back up without wiggling his ass.

He might not know much about art, but he certainly knew what he didn’t like …………..

TO BE CONTINUED (MAYBE)

Current Mood: artistic

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

telperion-15.livejournal.com

Maybe? Maybe???!!! You are NOT - repeat NOT - allowed to use the Three Words Of Evil without following up on them! Cos otherwise I will have to sic my whole patrol of Plot Bunny Police on you. And let me tell you, they're very good at their jobs!

*wonders if there's any way to suggest even tighter jeans to the Numb3rs wardrobe department*

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Fic, Numb3rs, Don Doesn't Know Much About Art, But ......Part 1 (?) 18

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