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don't need no music, either

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"You've been kind of quiet tonight, Dave. What's that about?"

"I hate you so much right now."

Tango doesn't look up when he says it, but Steve's leaning close, breath hot against Tango's neck and he feels the shudder that rolls through Tango. Even before the lights come back up he can tell Tango's blushing; he can hear it in his voice, and he can feel the heat radiating off his skin. They've spent enough time together in the dark for Steve to notice any little change in Tango, and when he presses against Tango's back to whisper in his ear, he feels the charge in the air between them.

"You love me."

No answer, which is as good as agreement, as far as Steve's concerned. He's tempted to make Tango show him just how much he loves this, but they're still working and they've managed to ditch their camera guy for awhile, but he's going to catch up with them sooner or later.

Their radios crackle at the same time, then Jason's voice fills the room as he tells them all to wrap for the night. Tango lets out a heavy sigh and moves away from him as the lights come up, and now Steve can see the flush creeping past the top of his t-shirt and up his neck. He smirks and turns away, focusing all his attention on packing the equipment and none of it on what he's going to do to Tango when he gets him alone.

And it's a good thing, because the building they're investigating is huge, and it takes a couple hours to pack everything up and get back to the hotel. It's almost dawn by the time they close the door to their room, and usually they'd pass out as soon as they got their shoes off. But Steve's been thinking about this all night, and there's no way he's getting to sleep any time soon.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide and leaning back on his elbows to grin at Tango. "Well, let's see it."

"I really hate you."

"Hey, you lost the bet fair and square. That's not my fault."

Tango rolls his eyes, but he kicks his shoes off anyway. His cap's next, then his shirt, and Steve watches his blush turn an even deeper shade of red as he finally reaches for the button on his jeans. Until he actually pulls them off Steve figures he chickened out; he expects Tango to make that exasperated noise of his and mutter something about it being a stupid bet anyway, then pull off his jeans to reveal nothing Steve hasn't seen before.

But then Tango's jeans slide down, and Steve's dick twitches at the sight of black nylon stretched over his legs and crotch. Tango's hard, dick trapped under a thin layer of nylon and lace and he reaches down while Steve watches and adjusts himself. "Jesus, Dave."

"What?" Tango asks, defensive and Steve would laugh at him if he wasn't so turned on.

"I didn't expect you to actually go through with it," Steve answers, glancing up at Tango's face before his gaze drifts back down to the lacy black panties and garter belt he's been wearing all night.

"You thought I was gonna welsh on the bet?" Tango asks, and this time Steve does laugh, because only Tango could pull off indignant while he's standing in front of Steve wearing nothing but lingerie.

"Come here."

"I can't believe you spent this whole time thinking I didn't even go through with it," Tango says, arms crossed over his chest like he forgot in the past five seconds that he's still wearing women's underwear. "You felt me up like ten times tonight, how could you miss it?"

"I did not feel you up," Steve lies. "Just shut up and come here."

Tango's still frowning at him, but he crosses the room to stop in front of Steve. And up close it's even better, because he can see the head of Tango's dick through the sheer material, red and pressed against the fabric and Steve doesn't even try to stop himself from reaching out to touch. Tango hisses at the contact and closes his eyes, hands on Steve's shoulders to keep him upright as Steve traces the outline of his cock.

He leans forward, hands on Tango's hips to hold him still while he presses his open mouth against the head of Tango's cock. That gets him a moan, and Tango's fingers digging into his shoulders to keep himself upright. Tango's chanting under his breath, ohgodohgodohgod over and over again. Steve seriously has no idea how many times he's sucked Tango off, but he's never been this close so fast. Then again, if Steve spent an entire night with his dick trapped in tight nylon, he'd probably be pretty ready to explode too.

"How's it feel?" Steve asks, looking up at Tango's face while he presses the heel of his palm hard against his dick.

"W-what?" Tango stutters, hips rocking into Steve's hand, and even that's pretty hot.

"Have you been this hard all night?" Steve asks, stroking up and down the length of Tango's cock as he talks. "It feels like you're about to burst."

"Actually it's...oh God," Tango says again, moaning and digging his fingers hard into Steve's shoulders, "it's kind of...starting to hurt. These things are really tight."

It seems like a shame to take it off already, because Tango's been wearing this stuff all night, sure, but Steve's only been looking at it for a few minutes. "Can't you just take the panties off?"

Tango shakes his head, catching himself on Steve's shoulders before he tips over. "Can't. They're under the...the belt...thing."

Steve slides his hands up under the garter belt to see if he can make it work, tugging the belt part out a little and then letting it go. He winces at the sound of elastic snapping against Tango's skin, running his thumbs over the red lines on Tango's hips.

"Ow," Tango says, pulling out of Steve's grip. "What, you don't believe me? I told you, it's not happening."

"Okay, okay," Steve says, standing up and pulling Tango close again. He grips his hips and presses a kiss against his lips, then he pushes Tango down onto the bed. "Just hang on a second."

He doesn't have to look to know Tango's rolling his eyes; after all these years he can feel it, but he doesn't let it bother him. He's going to make this work; he's the equipment tech, after all, so if anybody can do it, he can. He digs in his bag until he finds what he's looking for, then he crosses the room and kneels on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Tango asks, pushing himself up to watch Steve search through his keys for the utility knife he keeps on his keychain. "Oh, no. No way, man."

"Just chill. I know what I'm doing." Steve unfolds the blade and holds up the knife, then he slides a finger under the edge of the panties. "Okay?"

Tango closes his eyes, head back on the mattress and one hand covering his face. "Jesus," he murmurs into his hand, then he opens his eyes and looks down at the knife that's pressed against his thigh. "Be careful."

"What do you think I'm going to do? Geez, trust me a little here, man."

"I look hot like this, you might get distracted and lose control," Tango says, pushing himself up on his elbows to raise his eyebrows at Steve.

"Pretty sure I can handle it," he says, but he doesn't quite manage to stifle a grin as he looks back down at Tango's crotch. His teeth catch his lower lip as he slides the metal blade along Tango's skin, under the edge of the panties and working it back and forth until he manages to cut through the elastic. The nylon's easier to cut, and he slides it up the left side of the panties. The elastic at the top is even thicker, and it takes him awhile to cut through it. He hears Tango's sharp intake of breath every time the blade presses against his skin, and it's all Steve can do not to roll his eyes.

"It's not even that sharp. You're such a baby."

"Says the guy who screams like a girl every time he sees a spider," Tango says, and it's pretty brave of him to be mocking Steve's very real phobia, considering he's got a knife under Tango's underwear when he says it. He shakes his head and slides a hand under the open side of the panties, fingers closing around Tango's cock and stroking a few times.


"Yeah," Tango answers, voice catching on a groan as his hips rock up into Steve's grip. He strokes once more and lets go, ignoring the frustrated noise Tango makes and setting to work on the other side of the panties. And it really isn't a sharp blade, so he throws a little muscle behind it this time, gritting his teeth and forcing his way through the elastic. By the time he gets the second side open Tango's panting, straining up into the fabric that Steve's managed to pull even tighter against his dick. When the last piece of elastic snaps the pressure lets up, and Tango slumps back onto the mattress, eyes closed and chest flushed and if he wasn't still hard, Steve would have sworn he'd come just from that.

He folds the knife carefully and climbs off the bed again, tucking his keys back into his bag where they won't get lost. He fishes something else out and turns around to find Tango standing up to pull the ruined panties out from between his legs. His legs are still covered in shiny black stockings, the kind that end above his ankles. The garter belt's a little twisted and Tango reaches down to adjust it, but he doesn't move to take it off and Steve grins when he realizes Tango's actually admiring himself.

Not that Steve can blame him. He likes the view enough to trash a pair of underwear that cost more than he spends on boxers in a year, just so Tango will leave the rest of it on. And he's still a little surprised that Tango went through with it; not that there was much chance of anybody else on the team finding out, but the fact that there was a chance at all was sort of the point. Well, that and the way Tango looks right now, chest flushed and hair all flat from that stupid cap he always wears, and his dick standing up between two nylon-covered legs.

Steve sets down the bottle he took out of his bag and tugs his shirt over his head, then reaches for his shoes, nearly falling over in his haste to get them off. His socks are next, then his jeans and boxers, until finally he's even more naked than Tango. He picks the bottle up again and heads for the bathroom, stopping when he reaches the door and tilting his head toward the sink. "You coming?"

"What, in there?" Tango says, but he follows Steve anyway, and Jesus, even watching him walk across the room is sexy.

"There's a mirror in here." Steve turns the faucet on and sticks his fingers under the water, waiting until it warms up enough to be comfortable before he takes the cap off the bottle and fills it. When he's done he shuts the water off again and replaces the cap, then he turns to look at Tango. "Thought you might want to see what I'm seeing."

"You are so weird," Tango says as he pulls the bottle out of Steve's hand, but there's a fresh blush creeping up his neck, and Steve can tell he likes the idea more than he's ever going to admit.

So maybe he's a little weird, but he's no weirder than Tango, or even anybody else on the team, when it comes right down to it. They all hunt ghosts for a living, after all, and if this is what they need to do to unwind, it's not like they're hurting anybody. Tango pulls the bottle out of his hand without another word, and Steve turns around and braces his hands on the edge of the sink. He feels Tango's fingers first, sliding down his back to pull his cheeks open, thumb sliding over his hole. Tango takes his time, but finally Steve feels the press of plastic pushing inside him, then the burst of lukewarm water filling him as Tango squeezes the bottle. His head rolls back on his shoulders and he pushes his legs a little further apart, ass clenched to hold the water in until Tango tells him he can let go.

"How long can you hold it?" Tango asks, voice close to Steve's ear as he reaches around him to set the empty bottle on the counter.

"Not...Jesus, not long." Steve's legs are shaking already, elbows locked as he braces himself against the sink. Tango's thighs are pressed against his, and every time he shifts Steve feels the smooth brush of nylon against his legs. His cock's flush against Steve's ass already, Tango's weight providing just enough pressure to make him feel like he's going to burst. Then Tango slides an arm around his waist and takes hold of his dick, stroking slow until Steve's panting and thrusting up into his grip. He feels the water start to leak a little and looks up, locking eyes with Tango in the mirror and he must look pretty desperate, because Tango grins and presses a kiss against his shoulder.

"Go for it," he says. "I'll get the lube."

Steve sits down hard on the open toilet and lets the water rush out of him, eyes closed against the overwhelming sensation of release. He presses hard against his dick with the palm of his hand, willing himself not to come at least until Tango's inside him. He cleans himself up and stands up, legs still a little shaky as he flushes the toilet and looks up to find Tango leaning on the door frame. He looks like a poster for some crossdressing porn, and Steve wants to laugh, but before he gets the chance Tango's pulling him forward and kissing him hard.

His hands land on Tango's hips, thumbs sliding under the garter belt as his fingers stretch along the length of the little straps holding up Tango's nylons. He feels Tango shiver against him, then he's being turned back toward the mirror and Tango's pressed against his ass again. A hand pushes between them, two slick fingers pushing warm lube inside him. Steve shudders and clenches around Tango's fingers, breathing through the urge to come until he gets himself back under control. When he does Tango pulls his fingers out, then he lines his dick up and pushes inside in one long thrust.

Steve's eyes want to close but he fights the urge, gaze locked on their reflections in the mirror as Tango fucks him. He wishes the mirror was longer, because he can only see as far as the tops of their thighs. He can feel the nylon brushing against his legs, though, catching the tiny hairs on his thighs and sending little shivers through him every time Tango moves. He wonders what it feels like to have that stuff wrapped around your legs, if Tango spent the whole night trying to ignore the sensation and focus on a case that wasn't even interesting enough to provide a good distraction.

When he looks up again Tango's watching him, one hand resting on Steve's hip and the other planted in the center of his chest to pull him back into every thrust. Steve reaches down to grip Tango's hand and pull it away from his chest, lifting it to his mouth and sucking Tango's middle finger between his lips. He tongues the soft skin between Tango's fingers, rocking back a little harder when Tango groans and digs his fingers into Steve's hip. Tango buries his head in the crook of Steve's neck, mouth open against his skin and sucking hard. Steve's dick twitches at the sensation and he lets go of Tango's hand, then he reaches down to jerk himself off in time to Tango's thrusts.

Between Tango's mouth and his cock and their reflections it's all too much, and way before he's ready Steve tenses, clenching hard around the dick still buried inside him and coming on his fingers and the sink. He pants his way through his orgasm, hips still moving with Tango's and his hand milking his cock. When he's completely spent he leans forward onto his elbows, concentrating on holding himself up while Tango grips his hips and hammers his ass. It feels amazing, and even though his legs are shaking harder than ever he never wants Tango to stop. But he's already been hard for at least as long as Steve, and he isn't surprised when Tango thrusts forward one last time, burying himself deep and coming inside Steve.

He feels the brush of soft lips against his shoulders, then Tango's forehead pressed against the center of his back. They stay like that for a minute, both of them catching their breath and Steve knows when he tries to move it's going to hurt, because his knees are locked and every muscle in his body is tense from keeping himself upright. Then Tango pulls out of him, hand sliding across Steve's ass to dip his thumb between Steve's cheeks again. Steve gasps when the tip of Tango's thumb presses inside, then disappears again only to return a minute later with a damp washcloth.

Steve holds himself still while Tango cleans him up, wiping away come and lube before he tosses the washcloth in the sink. When Steve straightens up his whole body protests, but somehow he manages to turn until they're face to face. "So thoughtful," he says, grinning when Tango makes a face at him. "What? I appreciate it."

"Yeah, yeah," Tango says, but he lets Steve pull him forward for a chaste kiss. "Let's get some sleep. I'm beat, and Jay's gonna start hassling us about reviewing the tapes in a few hours."

Steve nods and lets Tango pull him back into the bedroom, dropping onto the mattress and kicking the covers back as Tango fumbles with the clips on his garter belt. He manages to get them open after a few false starts, and Steve watches while he slides first the nylons, then the belt itself off. Way too late he realizes they could have just unclipped the stupid things and gotten the panties off that way, but it was worth it just to listen to Tango panting while Steve cut them off. Tango stuffs the evidence way down in the bottom of his bag and crosses the room to the bed, pushing at Steve's hip until he moves over and makes room.

"You know, technically the night doesn't end until we wake up again."

"Fuck you, I'm not sleeping in those things," Tango says. But he lets Steve pull him back against his chest, and when Steve hooks an arm around his waist Tango's hand comes up to cover his.

"Point taken," Steve murmurs against his ear, planting soft kisses from his earlobe down to the top of his shoulder. He waits until Tango's breathing starts to even out, then he moves back up to his ear to whisper again. "Hey, next time you need a Halloween costume you're halfway there. You can just go as that one guy from Rocky Horror."

Tango's eyes stay closed, but his lips curve into a weary smile. "Forget it. Nobody else ever sees me in that thing. Besides, you already destroyed half of it."

"You didn't need the panties anyway. Next time you lose a bet you can just wear the belt and the nylons and go commando."

"Next time I'm winning the bet, and you're spending the whole night wearing a butt plug. And when Jay and Grant want to know why you can't sit down, I'm not helping you come up with an excuse."

"There's the flaw in your plan, my friend. You never win our bets."

Steve grins and lets go of him when Tango reaches over his shoulder to shove him away, stretching out on his own pillow and closing his eyes. It's true that Tango hardly ever wins, but if those are the stakes of the next bet, maybe Steve will let him, just this once.