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ncisficathonTitle: Smoky, With Notes of Vanilla and Desperation
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spoonyriffic
Written for:slashscribe
Prompt: Story 2: Tony/Gibbs they wind up spending a holiday together even though they'd had separate plans and they go from grumpy/grouchy to together
Archive: Let me know first, please.
Genre: Slash
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If someone told you I owned these characters, then they would be a horrible, horrible liar.
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: It's your classic tale – man is in love with his boss, man is stuck with said boss in a hotel room for a day on a holiday that glories in the misery of the unattached, and a homeless man lingers just outside baking cookies on the sidewalk. It's all very old hat.
Notes: Beta'd by the fabuloussinfulslasher. I'm afraid it isn't quite exactly what you wanted, being that it isn't the traditional sort of holiday that you'd think of with a prompt like this, and I had imagined it being quite a bit longer and having... more, story-wise, but I did my best! I left it a bit open-ended, so there's the potential for more. I hope you like it anyway!
Tony poked his head through the open door and sniffed the room suspiciously.
“It's nonsmoking, DiNozzo. Get your ass inside, it's hot as hell out here.”
Tony pulled a face and shuffled inside the room, practically dragging his backpack and duffel bag behind him. He dumped his bags next to one of the beds and picked at his button-down shirt, grimacing when it pulled away from his skin with a wet slurp.
“It's February, Gibbs. Even Key West isn't supposed to be this hot.”
Gibbs just grunted and kicked the door shut behind him. He slung his bags towards the other bed, ignoring them when they thudded loudly against the opposite wall.
“Gonna take a shower.”
Tony groaned and picked at his shirt again. “Why do you get first dibs? I'm sweating like a pig here!”
“Smell like one, too.” Gibbs opened his duffel bag and rooted around for a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt.
“Do not.” Tony turned his head and sniffed an armpit, only to recoil slightly. His lip curled. “Okay, maybe I do. All the more reason for me to shower first.”
Gibbs straightened and smirked. “Be faster next time.” And with that he disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut with an air of finality that made Tony slump and sigh heavily.
He almost sat on his bed before he realized that he really was absolutely stinking, and while the sheets would become soaked through by the morning, he wasn't thrilled about soiling them any sooner than he had to. Tony instead perched on the only chair in the room and ran a hand through his slick hair.
Here he was, in a little, oddly quaint hotel a stone's throw away from Duval Street, in a city that he'd always dreamed of visiting (and partying in), and he was stuck with his stern and tight-lipped boss. To think he'd actually been planning to do something on Valentine's Day, besides sitting around his apartment watching Clint Eastwood movies. And he would maintain until his dying day that visiting various bars and getting spectacularly drunk and laid in the process counted as a plan, no matter how poorly constructed and vaguely depressing it was.
Gibbs' plans had most likely involved a half-empty bottle of bourbon, or perhaps the bottle of Ardbeg Uigeadail that Tony had bought for him on a whim a few years ago, despite it being a whiskey, when Tony was feeling particularly wistful and imaginative. Since Gibbs had gotten rid of the boat, Tony wasn't sure what he'd be doing in the basement. Perhaps making a wood stove, since Gibbs seemed intent on getting rid of most of the technology in his life. Tony still didn't know what had driven Gibbs to throwing his cell phone in the toilet at NCIS last week, but Gibbs had been surly the rest of the day and Tony hadn't wanted to push.
He was definitely sure that his head would have ended up on a pike and displayed proudly in front of Gibbs' desk.
A loud whoop coming from outside stirred Tony from his thoughts, and he twitched the curtain aside just in time to see a half-naked couple sprinting away from a third man, who was naked, Tony noted, and who seemed to be covered in melted chocolate.
Tony hoped the man at least protected his genitals, because chocolate gummed up uncomfortably down there. Not that Tony knew anything about that.
“You want to leave?”
Tony jumped and let the curtain fall back into place. “Christ! We need to get a bell for you.”
Gibbs eyed him dubiously as he stuffed his damp clothes into his duffel. “You do that, and you'll find that bell wedged up your nose and my boot up your ass.”
Stopping himself just in time from rubbing his nose, Tony managed to roll his eyes and pulled the curtain back again.
“You had plans.”
Tony let the curtain fall again and groaned theatrically. “You bet I did! This girl I met - Mona, beautiful, legs could stretch across the continent - called me a few days ago and wanted to meet me tonight.” He sighed wistfully. “It would have been fantastic.”
The words easily tumbled out, and while Tony did know a girl named Mona, she was a lesbian and had zero interest in Tony.
“Uh huh,” was Gibbs' reply, and Tony knew that Gibbs knew that Tony had lied through his teeth, but it was okay. It was the way things worked, and as long as they both knew it, everything was fine. Mostly.
“Go find another Mona if you're that upset,” Gibbs grunted, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he sat down on his bed. “Nickerson's in custody, and we fly out of here tomorrow. Get out of here.”
Translation: well, no translation needed, because it was pretty damn obvious that Gibbs would not be sorry if Tony left for the night. Tony ignored the stab of hurt in his chest, but pressed on. “There's a homeless man using the sidewalk as a baking sheet, and I think I can smell cookies. It's too damn hot, Gibbs, and while I hear the beer's good here, it can't be that good.” Tony stood up and stretched, groaning when his spine popped. “I just want to take a shower and pass out.”
The only person he wanted to sleep with right now was painfully and completely not interested, and if Gibbs ever knew Tony was interested, he'd either get laughed out of the country or a swift kick in the pants.
Gibbs shrugged. “Shower's all yours.”
“You better not have used all the hot water,” Tony muttered as he grabbed his own clothes to sleep in, and he thought he saw Gibbs' hand twitch. There would be a headslap in his immediate future, then. Before Tony closed the bathroom door, he poked his head back out and asked, “Did you have plans, Boss?”
Gibbs slipped on his reading glasses and eyed him over the rims. “Yes,” was the simple reply.
Tony's eyes widened. “Seriously?” There was silence for a brief moment, and the tension stretched paper thin and Tony thought he was going to get struck down before he backpedaled. “Uh, I mean, not that you can't have plans, you're a grown and relatively attractive man--” Abort, DiNozzo, abort abort! “--and it's not like you live in your basement, but uh...” Tony trailed off then, suddenly at a loss for words, and Gibbs shook his head.
“Go take your shower.”
Tony hurriedly closed the door and thought he heard a muffled “idiot.”
–
Twenty minutes later and Tony was stepping out of the shower, having sufficiently worked himself up into an annoyed tizzy.
Gibbs was grouchy (which was his natural state), and Tony was alone with him, and normally he'd be animated enough for the both of them, but it was hot and Tony knew he was going to sleep like crap tonight. Plus the water pressure had sucked, so the shower had been unsatisfying and disappointing.
As it was, Tony had spiraled down into a horrible mood, and he fully planned on shuffling to bed and passing out for the next six hours. He'd wake up tangled in sweaty sheets, Gibbs would already be dressed and on his second cup of coffee, and they'd head back to DC, leaving approximately ten percent of Tony's body weight in sweat. And Tony would obsess for the next two weeks, because Gibbs had been right there in just a t-shirt and boxers, and Tony had been too chicken to do anything about it.
Tony exited the bathroom and tossed his clothes into his corner of the room, ignoring Gibbs' disapproving stare. He turned off the main light, the room only lit now by the lamp next to Gibbs' bed, and crawled into bed. He could already feel his shirt becoming slightly damp, and he cursed.
It was fucking Valentine's Day, and Tony was in a cramped hotel room with a bum air conditioner and a man he was practically in love with, and as much as he wanted to be one of those cynical single people who looked upon the holiday with undisguised disdain, he couldn't deny that he wanted what the holiday represented beyond the commercialism.
With his boss.
You're a real star, DiNozzo, Tony thought grimly.
He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He wished he had thought to bring his portable DVD player. Or at least a book like Gibbs. But mostly, he wished he was actually tired. He was bone-weary, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for at least another hour, which was unfortunate since they had to get up in six hours.
He contented himself with talking.
“What are you reading?” Tony asked, still staring at the dark ceiling.
“House of Doors,” Gibbs replied absently, turning a page.
Tony turned onto his side and propped himself up with an elbow, one eyebrow raising. “Lumley? That's kind of dark, isn't it?”
Gibbs' eyes never left the page. “Yup.”
“Never pegged you as a horror fan, Gibbs.” He thought he'd be reading a book about woodworking, or something related to the military. Or, “How to Terrorize Your Subordinates in the Workplace.”
Gibbs hummed. “If it's well-written, I don't care.”
The unspoken now shut up was not lost on Tony. He just chose to ignore it.
“I like Vonnegut, myself. Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse-Five. Let me tell you, I've always liked a good dystopian--”
“DiNozzo.”
Tony blinked. “Yeah, Boss?”
“Go to sleep.”
“Can't, Boss.” Tony grinned, his teeth flashing in the limited light. “I can still smell the cookies outside.”
“Then pretend to sleep, and quit annoying me.”
Tony placed a hand over his heart and winced. “Your words cut deeply, and I fear you may have severely wounded me.”
Gibbs rolled his eyes, but he still wouldn't look at Tony. So Tony stared, and his eyes homed in on a spot near the collar of Gibbs' shirt that was worn-through, and Tony could just barely see a bit of skin peek through. That just wasn't fair. He wiped at his face and pushed a hand through his hair, making it stick up every which way.
“You ever read 1984? Now there's a classic dystopian. And the movie is just great - both of them are, actually, though I've always had a soft spot for John Hurt, and did you know that it was one of the first books I ever read? My dad almost had a fit when he caught me reading it, said it wasn't 'appropriate' or something.”
Gibbs turned a page and remained silent.
“Dystopians aren't your thing, I take it.” Tony pursed his lips thoughtfully, before diving in again. “What were your plans for tonight, Gibbs? Do you have a lady friend?” Holy crap, shut up, DiNozzo. “Sorry that asshole Nickerson ruined your plans and stuck you with me--”
Gibbs sighed through his nose and stuck a bookmark in his book. He whipped off his glasses and tossed them along with the book onto the nightstand, before turning on his side to face Tony.
“What's eating at you, DiNozzo?”
Tony blinked rapidly before grinning again. “Nothing right now, but if the stories I hear about the mosquitoes around here are true, you may wake up to a streak of blood in the morning.”
There was that impassive stare, the stare that made suspects wet themselves in interrogation and hardened Marines flinch. Tony had been on the receiving end of that stare for almost ten years, so he'd like to think he was damn near impervious to it.
He couldn't stop himself from clenching up, though.
“Cut the crap. You've been tense all day.”
Tony snorted. “I'm just tired.”
“Then quit talking and sleep.”
Tony scowled and flopped onto his back again. “Maybe I don't want to,” he mumbled petulantly.
He had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't just in the lion's den – he was messing around with the lionesses and pissing to mark his territory, and he was a dead man, but he couldn't stop.
Gibbs didn't reply, and Tony thought Gibbs had given up and was just ignoring him now.
But then there was a second person's weight making his mattress dip, and he should have known that Gibbs wouldn't give up, because he never did give up.
“Jesus Christ, DiNozzo,” Gibbs muttered, before swooping down, and before Tony could blink and prepare himself for death, lips were covering his own, and--
--what?
Tony's mind grinded to a shuddering halt.
Gibbs.
Was kissing him.
Impossible.
Tony froze, but Gibbs didn't let that stop him. A tongue probed at his lips, and Tony dazedly opened up, allowing that tongue to glide in and tap at his teeth. Musky-sweet sweat tinged with arousal filled his nostrils and sent signals to his brain, and millions of neural relays roared to life, and suddenly Tony could feel, and he was kissing Gibbs back almost savagely. He clutched at those imposing shoulders and yanked until Gibbs was on top of him, and that was so much better.
Tony broke away with a gasp, and momentarily forgot how to breathe.
Gibbs was panting and grinning down at him, and Tony saw those blue eyes glint in the gloom, and he thought, this is it.
“What are you--”
Gibbs shook his head, bent down, and kissed him again. He pulled away after only a few seconds, and then pressed their foreheads together.
“You're an idiot, Tony.”
“I'm not--” Gibbs nipped at his bottom lip, and Tony ended with a groan, “--okay, I'm an idiot.”
“There is no 'lady friend.'” Gibbs nipped at his top lip next, and Tony shivered. “There's no one.”
“Except for a dirty glass of bourbon?” Tony quipped.
Gibbs snorted. “Been drinking that other stuff you gave me.”
Tony's eyes widened. “The Ardbeg Uigeadail?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Oh. Do you like it?”
A slight curl of Gibbs' lips told Tony that yeah, he liked it.
“I never thanked you.”
“Is that why you're kissing me?”
Is this a one time thing?
“Nah.”
No, it's not.
“Oh.”
Thank god.
“I'm kissing you because you're an idiot. A transparent idiot.”
“I am not!”
Gibbs slid a hand through Tony's sweaty hair, and Tony arched into the touch. He may have purred a little.
“I thought we agreed that you were.”
“I'm not transparent!”
Gibbs laughed outright at that. “You are to me, Tony.”
Tony's mouth formed a pout, but Gibbs kissed it away.
“I had plans, yeah – but they mostly involved you and a pizza.”
Stilling, Tony eyed Gibbs incredulously. “You're lying.”
Gibbs shook his head solemnly, and Tony gaped. Gibbs chuckled again.
“Like I said,” he whispered between kisses. “Transparent.”
“But--”
“You were driving me insane. Talking about homeless guys and cookies, and you were staring at that naked guy out in the street--”
“Was not.”
“--and then you wouldn't shut up while I was trying to read, and it's hot as hell and I've been pissed damn near all day--”
Tony's eyebrows crawled up his forehead as Gibbs went on, and he didn't think he'd heard his boss talk this much.
“--and I knew if I kissed you and stopped your obsessing, you'd shut up.”
“And apparently, you would pick up the slack.”
Gibbs glared at him then, and Tony barked out a laugh and pulled him down into a kiss. “I don't mind,” he whispered conspiratorially. “You should talk more. Gets me hard.”
“A stiff breeze would get you hard, DiNozzo.”
“I'm not 18 anymore, Gibbs.”
Gibbs chose at that moment to thrust against Tony, and Tony inhaled sharply. “Don't feel 18,” Gibbs whispered.
“God, I hope not.”
Gibbs snickered and snuck a hand under Tony's shirt. “You too hot to do this?”
Tony's answer to that was to peel off his t-shirt and squirm underneath Gibbs so he could shimmy out of his boxers. He pushed both articles of clothing off the bed, and began tugging at Gibbs' own damp shirt, his erection pressing between their stomachs.
“Never,” Tony breathed.
Because this was Gibbs, and while it may be hotter than a blacksmith's forge outside, with the inside being just marginally cooler, it was still Gibbs, and it made everything better. The sex would be a bonus. A big bonus.
And here would be where Tony would comment on just how big Gibbs' “bonus” was, but it was hard to be nauseatingly crass when Gibbs' mouth was working its way down his torso, licking up sweat and reddening skin with teeth.
He'd make up for it later.
Tony clutched spasmodically at Gibbs' shoulders before shoving his hands under Gibbs' shirt. Gibbs got the not-too-subtle hint and impatiently pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him. Tony growled in approval and ran his hands over Gibbs' broad chest, pinching a nipple and making both of them groan in anticipation. Tony then slid his hands down and behind to the small of Gibbs' back, brushing the elastic of his boxers.
Gibbs tried to cover up the hitch in his breath, but Tony knew better. He knew better.
“Don't you dare hide from me,” he all but growled. “You keep everything all bottled up and shoved away, but I know you. I know you, and I'm going to make you scream tonight.”
Gibbs' moan almost sounded pained, but he nodded and shifted so Tony could push his boxers down his legs. He propped himself up, his hands planted on either side of Tony's torso, so he could kick his boxers somewhere in the vicinity of his shirt. Tony fisted his hands in Gibbs' short hair and yanked him down, kissing him hard and fast.
“Slow down, Tony,” Gibbs breathed in between savage kisses, and it shouldn't annoy Tony that he was trying to take things down a notch.
“No.” He was desperate, because he'd been wanting this for so long, and now he had it, and it was almost too much, and he wanted it all.
“Tony, it's okay.” Gibbs framed Tony's face with his large, callused hands, grounding him.
“What if I want it fast?” Tony gasped, bringing up his hands to cover Gibbs'. What if I want it to be over in ten minutes, with those ten minutes feeling like ten days, with it feeling like I'm dying and being reborn over and over again--
“We can go fast.” The hands slipped away to trail down and cup at Tony’s ass, and Tony sucked in a breath. “But you don't need to be desperate. Never desperate, Tony. You've got me. So have me.”
Thank god.
Using his legs as leverage, Tony flipped them so he was sprawled haphazardly over Gibbs, their skin slick with sweat and sticking. Gibbs was practically absorbing all of the heat, and Tony doubted that he minded being half-smothered by a man who was over six feet tall. Gibbs barely broke a sweat when the air conditioning broke down back at home, and even then he usually wore his sports jacket and would be on his fourth cup of coffee. The man was superhuman.
With a quick roll of his hips, Tony slotted their cocks together and set a furious, grinding pace that quickly left the two of them gasping for breath and the sheets tangled from their writhing. Gibbs met every thrust, sweat and precome slicking the way so that there was just the right amount of friction, and it was fantastic and too much and not enough.
“Do you have any lube?” Tony gritted his teeth and reached down to fist their cocks together. Gibbs sucked in a breath and let it out on a loud groan.
“Don't keep anything like that in my duffel,” he growled, his hand joining Tony's. There wasn't enough room for the two of them, but Gibbs somehow managed to make it work, their large hands sliding together perfectly, because that's what Gibbs did. “Don't plan on getting laid on cases.” Gibbs managed to raise an eyebrow, and it looked so devastatingly sexy that Tony wanted to lick it. “That's more your area, DiNozzo.”
And oh god, his last name wasn't supposed to sound that sexy.
“Need to restock.” Tony refused to admit that it was because the bottle of lube had exploded and ruined his favorite pair of jeans, and the condoms had expired.
Gibbs cupped the back of Tony's head gently before fisting his hair and yanking down, causing Tony to yelp. Gibbs nipped his way across Tony's jaw before he rasped in his ear, “We'll make do.” And with that, Gibbs flipped them over again, and Tony's leg slid off the bed and thumped on the floor. Gibbs grunted and hauled them closer to the center of the bed, which wasn't that hard since the bed wasn't that wide, but Tony relished being manhandled.
Hands settled on his waist and gently urged him onto his side. Tony felt heat blanket his back, and knew that Gibbs was spooning up behind him. His hard cock nudged at Tony's entrance, and Tony shivered and pushed back. Gibbs canted his hips away, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
“Don't, we don't have lube.”
Gibbs shifted until his cock was pressing against the back of Tony's balls, before shifting again until it slid in between his thighs, and Tony thought oh, you are brilliant. A grin against the back of his neck told Tony that Gibbs had read his mind.
Gibbs began thrusting slowly, their combined sweat and precome allowing his cock to slide easily between Tony's strong thighs. The space between was hot and slick and damn near perfect as far as everyone involved was concerned. A hand brushed Tony's cock, and Tony clenched down, causing Gibbs to gasp and thrust harder. Not to be deterred, however, Gibbs grabbed Tony and started sliding his hand up and down, up and down, until the rhythm drove Tony wild with lust.
Too fast, too slow, too everything, and Tony was too close, and his writhing grew more manic, his throat constricting a groan.
“Yeah, Tony.” Gibbs nuzzled the nape of Tony's neck, before moving to his shoulder and biting down viciously. Tony keened and pushed his head further into the pillow, exposing more of his neck. “Come on, Tony. Let go, let go.”
Tony shook his head furiously, but it was too late, he was coming, deliciously white hot and mind-numbingly incredible. Gibbs laved the bite mark and pressed more kisses into Tony's shoulder until he ended up mindlessly gasping, his mouth slipping on Tony's hot skin. His mouth falling open, Tony squeezed his thighs together again, and that was the end of it. Gibbs was coming and shuddering and almost whimpering, and it was a damn good thing Tony's brain had already short-circuited and he wasn't able to comprehend that.
Then everything became weirdly flat and normal, like all of the air had been sucked out of the room by some sort of cosmic vacuum powered by sex. Tony was covered in sticky come made stickier in the humidity, and Gibbs' knee was digging into him and his shoulder stung.
Tony grinned and bit back his laughter.
Gibbs lifted his head (and moved his knee, thank god), and regarded him curiously.
“You okay?” Good, he was at least a little out of breath. Maybe not so superhuman.
“Do you really have to ask that?” Tony twisted until he was facing Gibbs, smearing come between them until Gibbs made a face. Now they had to take another shower, and Tony's grin widened. And as far as he was concerned, they owed each other a proper trip to Key West in the near future. Something to ask Vance about when they got home – discreetly, of course.
Gibbs sighed, but Tony could tell it was fake when Gibbs couldn't quite hold back a smile. He reached up, palmed Gibbs' cheek, and leaned in for a kiss.
“Now who's calling who transparent?”
Author:
spoonyrifficWritten for:
slashscribePrompt: Story 2: Tony/Gibbs they wind up spending a holiday together even though they'd had separate plans and they go from grumpy/grouchy to together
Archive: Let me know first, please.
Genre: Slash
Pairings: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: If someone told you I owned these characters, then they would be a horrible, horrible liar.
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: It's your classic tale – man is in love with his boss, man is stuck with said boss in a hotel room for a day on a holiday that glories in the misery of the unattached, and a homeless man lingers just outside baking cookies on the sidewalk. It's all very old hat.
Notes: Beta'd by the fabulous
sinfulslasher. I'm afraid it isn't quite exactly what you wanted, being that it isn't the traditional sort of holiday that you'd think of with a prompt like this, and I had imagined it being quite a bit longer and having... more, story-wise, but I did my best! I left it a bit open-ended, so there's the potential for more. I hope you like it anyway!Tony poked his head through the open door and sniffed the room suspiciously.
“It's nonsmoking, DiNozzo. Get your ass inside, it's hot as hell out here.”
Tony pulled a face and shuffled inside the room, practically dragging his backpack and duffel bag behind him. He dumped his bags next to one of the beds and picked at his button-down shirt, grimacing when it pulled away from his skin with a wet slurp.
“It's February, Gibbs. Even Key West isn't supposed to be this hot.”
Gibbs just grunted and kicked the door shut behind him. He slung his bags towards the other bed, ignoring them when they thudded loudly against the opposite wall.
“Gonna take a shower.”
Tony groaned and picked at his shirt again. “Why do you get first dibs? I'm sweating like a pig here!”
“Smell like one, too.” Gibbs opened his duffel bag and rooted around for a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt.
“Do not.” Tony turned his head and sniffed an armpit, only to recoil slightly. His lip curled. “Okay, maybe I do. All the more reason for me to shower first.”
Gibbs straightened and smirked. “Be faster next time.” And with that he disappeared into the bathroom, the door clicking shut with an air of finality that made Tony slump and sigh heavily.
He almost sat on his bed before he realized that he really was absolutely stinking, and while the sheets would become soaked through by the morning, he wasn't thrilled about soiling them any sooner than he had to. Tony instead perched on the only chair in the room and ran a hand through his slick hair.
Here he was, in a little, oddly quaint hotel a stone's throw away from Duval Street, in a city that he'd always dreamed of visiting (and partying in), and he was stuck with his stern and tight-lipped boss. To think he'd actually been planning to do something on Valentine's Day, besides sitting around his apartment watching Clint Eastwood movies. And he would maintain until his dying day that visiting various bars and getting spectacularly drunk and laid in the process counted as a plan, no matter how poorly constructed and vaguely depressing it was.
Gibbs' plans had most likely involved a half-empty bottle of bourbon, or perhaps the bottle of Ardbeg Uigeadail that Tony had bought for him on a whim a few years ago, despite it being a whiskey, when Tony was feeling particularly wistful and imaginative. Since Gibbs had gotten rid of the boat, Tony wasn't sure what he'd be doing in the basement. Perhaps making a wood stove, since Gibbs seemed intent on getting rid of most of the technology in his life. Tony still didn't know what had driven Gibbs to throwing his cell phone in the toilet at NCIS last week, but Gibbs had been surly the rest of the day and Tony hadn't wanted to push.
He was definitely sure that his head would have ended up on a pike and displayed proudly in front of Gibbs' desk.
A loud whoop coming from outside stirred Tony from his thoughts, and he twitched the curtain aside just in time to see a half-naked couple sprinting away from a third man, who was naked, Tony noted, and who seemed to be covered in melted chocolate.
Tony hoped the man at least protected his genitals, because chocolate gummed up uncomfortably down there. Not that Tony knew anything about that.
“You want to leave?”
Tony jumped and let the curtain fall back into place. “Christ! We need to get a bell for you.”
Gibbs eyed him dubiously as he stuffed his damp clothes into his duffel. “You do that, and you'll find that bell wedged up your nose and my boot up your ass.”
Stopping himself just in time from rubbing his nose, Tony managed to roll his eyes and pulled the curtain back again.
“You had plans.”
Tony let the curtain fall again and groaned theatrically. “You bet I did! This girl I met - Mona, beautiful, legs could stretch across the continent - called me a few days ago and wanted to meet me tonight.” He sighed wistfully. “It would have been fantastic.”
The words easily tumbled out, and while Tony did know a girl named Mona, she was a lesbian and had zero interest in Tony.
“Uh huh,” was Gibbs' reply, and Tony knew that Gibbs knew that Tony had lied through his teeth, but it was okay. It was the way things worked, and as long as they both knew it, everything was fine. Mostly.
“Go find another Mona if you're that upset,” Gibbs grunted, scrubbing a hand through his hair as he sat down on his bed. “Nickerson's in custody, and we fly out of here tomorrow. Get out of here.”
Translation: well, no translation needed, because it was pretty damn obvious that Gibbs would not be sorry if Tony left for the night. Tony ignored the stab of hurt in his chest, but pressed on. “There's a homeless man using the sidewalk as a baking sheet, and I think I can smell cookies. It's too damn hot, Gibbs, and while I hear the beer's good here, it can't be that good.” Tony stood up and stretched, groaning when his spine popped. “I just want to take a shower and pass out.”
The only person he wanted to sleep with right now was painfully and completely not interested, and if Gibbs ever knew Tony was interested, he'd either get laughed out of the country or a swift kick in the pants.
Gibbs shrugged. “Shower's all yours.”
“You better not have used all the hot water,” Tony muttered as he grabbed his own clothes to sleep in, and he thought he saw Gibbs' hand twitch. There would be a headslap in his immediate future, then. Before Tony closed the bathroom door, he poked his head back out and asked, “Did you have plans, Boss?”
Gibbs slipped on his reading glasses and eyed him over the rims. “Yes,” was the simple reply.
Tony's eyes widened. “Seriously?” There was silence for a brief moment, and the tension stretched paper thin and Tony thought he was going to get struck down before he backpedaled. “Uh, I mean, not that you can't have plans, you're a grown and relatively attractive man--” Abort, DiNozzo, abort abort! “--and it's not like you live in your basement, but uh...” Tony trailed off then, suddenly at a loss for words, and Gibbs shook his head.
“Go take your shower.”
Tony hurriedly closed the door and thought he heard a muffled “idiot.”
–
Twenty minutes later and Tony was stepping out of the shower, having sufficiently worked himself up into an annoyed tizzy.
Gibbs was grouchy (which was his natural state), and Tony was alone with him, and normally he'd be animated enough for the both of them, but it was hot and Tony knew he was going to sleep like crap tonight. Plus the water pressure had sucked, so the shower had been unsatisfying and disappointing.
As it was, Tony had spiraled down into a horrible mood, and he fully planned on shuffling to bed and passing out for the next six hours. He'd wake up tangled in sweaty sheets, Gibbs would already be dressed and on his second cup of coffee, and they'd head back to DC, leaving approximately ten percent of Tony's body weight in sweat. And Tony would obsess for the next two weeks, because Gibbs had been right there in just a t-shirt and boxers, and Tony had been too chicken to do anything about it.
Tony exited the bathroom and tossed his clothes into his corner of the room, ignoring Gibbs' disapproving stare. He turned off the main light, the room only lit now by the lamp next to Gibbs' bed, and crawled into bed. He could already feel his shirt becoming slightly damp, and he cursed.
It was fucking Valentine's Day, and Tony was in a cramped hotel room with a bum air conditioner and a man he was practically in love with, and as much as he wanted to be one of those cynical single people who looked upon the holiday with undisguised disdain, he couldn't deny that he wanted what the holiday represented beyond the commercialism.
With his boss.
You're a real star, DiNozzo, Tony thought grimly.
He flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He wished he had thought to bring his portable DVD player. Or at least a book like Gibbs. But mostly, he wished he was actually tired. He was bone-weary, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for at least another hour, which was unfortunate since they had to get up in six hours.
He contented himself with talking.
“What are you reading?” Tony asked, still staring at the dark ceiling.
“House of Doors,” Gibbs replied absently, turning a page.
Tony turned onto his side and propped himself up with an elbow, one eyebrow raising. “Lumley? That's kind of dark, isn't it?”
Gibbs' eyes never left the page. “Yup.”
“Never pegged you as a horror fan, Gibbs.” He thought he'd be reading a book about woodworking, or something related to the military. Or, “How to Terrorize Your Subordinates in the Workplace.”
Gibbs hummed. “If it's well-written, I don't care.”
The unspoken now shut up was not lost on Tony. He just chose to ignore it.
“I like Vonnegut, myself. Cat's Cradle, Slaughterhouse-Five. Let me tell you, I've always liked a good dystopian--”
“DiNozzo.”
Tony blinked. “Yeah, Boss?”
“Go to sleep.”
“Can't, Boss.” Tony grinned, his teeth flashing in the limited light. “I can still smell the cookies outside.”
“Then pretend to sleep, and quit annoying me.”
Tony placed a hand over his heart and winced. “Your words cut deeply, and I fear you may have severely wounded me.”
Gibbs rolled his eyes, but he still wouldn't look at Tony. So Tony stared, and his eyes homed in on a spot near the collar of Gibbs' shirt that was worn-through, and Tony could just barely see a bit of skin peek through. That just wasn't fair. He wiped at his face and pushed a hand through his hair, making it stick up every which way.
“You ever read 1984? Now there's a classic dystopian. And the movie is just great - both of them are, actually, though I've always had a soft spot for John Hurt, and did you know that it was one of the first books I ever read? My dad almost had a fit when he caught me reading it, said it wasn't 'appropriate' or something.”
Gibbs turned a page and remained silent.
“Dystopians aren't your thing, I take it.” Tony pursed his lips thoughtfully, before diving in again. “What were your plans for tonight, Gibbs? Do you have a lady friend?” Holy crap, shut up, DiNozzo. “Sorry that asshole Nickerson ruined your plans and stuck you with me--”
Gibbs sighed through his nose and stuck a bookmark in his book. He whipped off his glasses and tossed them along with the book onto the nightstand, before turning on his side to face Tony.
“What's eating at you, DiNozzo?”
Tony blinked rapidly before grinning again. “Nothing right now, but if the stories I hear about the mosquitoes around here are true, you may wake up to a streak of blood in the morning.”
There was that impassive stare, the stare that made suspects wet themselves in interrogation and hardened Marines flinch. Tony had been on the receiving end of that stare for almost ten years, so he'd like to think he was damn near impervious to it.
He couldn't stop himself from clenching up, though.
“Cut the crap. You've been tense all day.”
Tony snorted. “I'm just tired.”
“Then quit talking and sleep.”
Tony scowled and flopped onto his back again. “Maybe I don't want to,” he mumbled petulantly.
He had no idea what he was doing. He wasn't just in the lion's den – he was messing around with the lionesses and pissing to mark his territory, and he was a dead man, but he couldn't stop.
Gibbs didn't reply, and Tony thought Gibbs had given up and was just ignoring him now.
But then there was a second person's weight making his mattress dip, and he should have known that Gibbs wouldn't give up, because he never did give up.
“Jesus Christ, DiNozzo,” Gibbs muttered, before swooping down, and before Tony could blink and prepare himself for death, lips were covering his own, and--
--what?
Tony's mind grinded to a shuddering halt.
Gibbs.
Was kissing him.
Impossible.
Tony froze, but Gibbs didn't let that stop him. A tongue probed at his lips, and Tony dazedly opened up, allowing that tongue to glide in and tap at his teeth. Musky-sweet sweat tinged with arousal filled his nostrils and sent signals to his brain, and millions of neural relays roared to life, and suddenly Tony could feel, and he was kissing Gibbs back almost savagely. He clutched at those imposing shoulders and yanked until Gibbs was on top of him, and that was so much better.
Tony broke away with a gasp, and momentarily forgot how to breathe.
Gibbs was panting and grinning down at him, and Tony saw those blue eyes glint in the gloom, and he thought, this is it.
“What are you--”
Gibbs shook his head, bent down, and kissed him again. He pulled away after only a few seconds, and then pressed their foreheads together.
“You're an idiot, Tony.”
“I'm not--” Gibbs nipped at his bottom lip, and Tony ended with a groan, “--okay, I'm an idiot.”
“There is no 'lady friend.'” Gibbs nipped at his top lip next, and Tony shivered. “There's no one.”
“Except for a dirty glass of bourbon?” Tony quipped.
Gibbs snorted. “Been drinking that other stuff you gave me.”
Tony's eyes widened. “The Ardbeg Uigeadail?”
“Yeah, that.”
“Oh. Do you like it?”
A slight curl of Gibbs' lips told Tony that yeah, he liked it.
“I never thanked you.”
“Is that why you're kissing me?”
Is this a one time thing?
“Nah.”
No, it's not.
“Oh.”
Thank god.
“I'm kissing you because you're an idiot. A transparent idiot.”
“I am not!”
Gibbs slid a hand through Tony's sweaty hair, and Tony arched into the touch. He may have purred a little.
“I thought we agreed that you were.”
“I'm not transparent!”
Gibbs laughed outright at that. “You are to me, Tony.”
Tony's mouth formed a pout, but Gibbs kissed it away.
“I had plans, yeah – but they mostly involved you and a pizza.”
Stilling, Tony eyed Gibbs incredulously. “You're lying.”
Gibbs shook his head solemnly, and Tony gaped. Gibbs chuckled again.
“Like I said,” he whispered between kisses. “Transparent.”
“But--”
“You were driving me insane. Talking about homeless guys and cookies, and you were staring at that naked guy out in the street--”
“Was not.”
“--and then you wouldn't shut up while I was trying to read, and it's hot as hell and I've been pissed damn near all day--”
Tony's eyebrows crawled up his forehead as Gibbs went on, and he didn't think he'd heard his boss talk this much.
“--and I knew if I kissed you and stopped your obsessing, you'd shut up.”
“And apparently, you would pick up the slack.”
Gibbs glared at him then, and Tony barked out a laugh and pulled him down into a kiss. “I don't mind,” he whispered conspiratorially. “You should talk more. Gets me hard.”
“A stiff breeze would get you hard, DiNozzo.”
“I'm not 18 anymore, Gibbs.”
Gibbs chose at that moment to thrust against Tony, and Tony inhaled sharply. “Don't feel 18,” Gibbs whispered.
“God, I hope not.”
Gibbs snickered and snuck a hand under Tony's shirt. “You too hot to do this?”
Tony's answer to that was to peel off his t-shirt and squirm underneath Gibbs so he could shimmy out of his boxers. He pushed both articles of clothing off the bed, and began tugging at Gibbs' own damp shirt, his erection pressing between their stomachs.
“Never,” Tony breathed.
Because this was Gibbs, and while it may be hotter than a blacksmith's forge outside, with the inside being just marginally cooler, it was still Gibbs, and it made everything better. The sex would be a bonus. A big bonus.
And here would be where Tony would comment on just how big Gibbs' “bonus” was, but it was hard to be nauseatingly crass when Gibbs' mouth was working its way down his torso, licking up sweat and reddening skin with teeth.
He'd make up for it later.
Tony clutched spasmodically at Gibbs' shoulders before shoving his hands under Gibbs' shirt. Gibbs got the not-too-subtle hint and impatiently pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him. Tony growled in approval and ran his hands over Gibbs' broad chest, pinching a nipple and making both of them groan in anticipation. Tony then slid his hands down and behind to the small of Gibbs' back, brushing the elastic of his boxers.
Gibbs tried to cover up the hitch in his breath, but Tony knew better. He knew better.
“Don't you dare hide from me,” he all but growled. “You keep everything all bottled up and shoved away, but I know you. I know you, and I'm going to make you scream tonight.”
Gibbs' moan almost sounded pained, but he nodded and shifted so Tony could push his boxers down his legs. He propped himself up, his hands planted on either side of Tony's torso, so he could kick his boxers somewhere in the vicinity of his shirt. Tony fisted his hands in Gibbs' short hair and yanked him down, kissing him hard and fast.
“Slow down, Tony,” Gibbs breathed in between savage kisses, and it shouldn't annoy Tony that he was trying to take things down a notch.
“No.” He was desperate, because he'd been wanting this for so long, and now he had it, and it was almost too much, and he wanted it all.
“Tony, it's okay.” Gibbs framed Tony's face with his large, callused hands, grounding him.
“What if I want it fast?” Tony gasped, bringing up his hands to cover Gibbs'. What if I want it to be over in ten minutes, with those ten minutes feeling like ten days, with it feeling like I'm dying and being reborn over and over again--
“We can go fast.” The hands slipped away to trail down and cup at Tony’s ass, and Tony sucked in a breath. “But you don't need to be desperate. Never desperate, Tony. You've got me. So have me.”
Thank god.
Using his legs as leverage, Tony flipped them so he was sprawled haphazardly over Gibbs, their skin slick with sweat and sticking. Gibbs was practically absorbing all of the heat, and Tony doubted that he minded being half-smothered by a man who was over six feet tall. Gibbs barely broke a sweat when the air conditioning broke down back at home, and even then he usually wore his sports jacket and would be on his fourth cup of coffee. The man was superhuman.
With a quick roll of his hips, Tony slotted their cocks together and set a furious, grinding pace that quickly left the two of them gasping for breath and the sheets tangled from their writhing. Gibbs met every thrust, sweat and precome slicking the way so that there was just the right amount of friction, and it was fantastic and too much and not enough.
“Do you have any lube?” Tony gritted his teeth and reached down to fist their cocks together. Gibbs sucked in a breath and let it out on a loud groan.
“Don't keep anything like that in my duffel,” he growled, his hand joining Tony's. There wasn't enough room for the two of them, but Gibbs somehow managed to make it work, their large hands sliding together perfectly, because that's what Gibbs did. “Don't plan on getting laid on cases.” Gibbs managed to raise an eyebrow, and it looked so devastatingly sexy that Tony wanted to lick it. “That's more your area, DiNozzo.”
And oh god, his last name wasn't supposed to sound that sexy.
“Need to restock.” Tony refused to admit that it was because the bottle of lube had exploded and ruined his favorite pair of jeans, and the condoms had expired.
Gibbs cupped the back of Tony's head gently before fisting his hair and yanking down, causing Tony to yelp. Gibbs nipped his way across Tony's jaw before he rasped in his ear, “We'll make do.” And with that, Gibbs flipped them over again, and Tony's leg slid off the bed and thumped on the floor. Gibbs grunted and hauled them closer to the center of the bed, which wasn't that hard since the bed wasn't that wide, but Tony relished being manhandled.
Hands settled on his waist and gently urged him onto his side. Tony felt heat blanket his back, and knew that Gibbs was spooning up behind him. His hard cock nudged at Tony's entrance, and Tony shivered and pushed back. Gibbs canted his hips away, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
“Don't, we don't have lube.”
Gibbs shifted until his cock was pressing against the back of Tony's balls, before shifting again until it slid in between his thighs, and Tony thought oh, you are brilliant. A grin against the back of his neck told Tony that Gibbs had read his mind.
Gibbs began thrusting slowly, their combined sweat and precome allowing his cock to slide easily between Tony's strong thighs. The space between was hot and slick and damn near perfect as far as everyone involved was concerned. A hand brushed Tony's cock, and Tony clenched down, causing Gibbs to gasp and thrust harder. Not to be deterred, however, Gibbs grabbed Tony and started sliding his hand up and down, up and down, until the rhythm drove Tony wild with lust.
Too fast, too slow, too everything, and Tony was too close, and his writhing grew more manic, his throat constricting a groan.
“Yeah, Tony.” Gibbs nuzzled the nape of Tony's neck, before moving to his shoulder and biting down viciously. Tony keened and pushed his head further into the pillow, exposing more of his neck. “Come on, Tony. Let go, let go.”
Tony shook his head furiously, but it was too late, he was coming, deliciously white hot and mind-numbingly incredible. Gibbs laved the bite mark and pressed more kisses into Tony's shoulder until he ended up mindlessly gasping, his mouth slipping on Tony's hot skin. His mouth falling open, Tony squeezed his thighs together again, and that was the end of it. Gibbs was coming and shuddering and almost whimpering, and it was a damn good thing Tony's brain had already short-circuited and he wasn't able to comprehend that.
Then everything became weirdly flat and normal, like all of the air had been sucked out of the room by some sort of cosmic vacuum powered by sex. Tony was covered in sticky come made stickier in the humidity, and Gibbs' knee was digging into him and his shoulder stung.
Tony grinned and bit back his laughter.
Gibbs lifted his head (and moved his knee, thank god), and regarded him curiously.
“You okay?” Good, he was at least a little out of breath. Maybe not so superhuman.
“Do you really have to ask that?” Tony twisted until he was facing Gibbs, smearing come between them until Gibbs made a face. Now they had to take another shower, and Tony's grin widened. And as far as he was concerned, they owed each other a proper trip to Key West in the near future. Something to ask Vance about when they got home – discreetly, of course.
Gibbs sighed, but Tony could tell it was fake when Gibbs couldn't quite hold back a smile. He reached up, palmed Gibbs' cheek, and leaned in for a kiss.
“Now who's calling who transparent?”
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no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 04:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 06:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 06:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 07:43 am (UTC)Still lovin' it from start to finish! *g* Your Tony is always so incredibly IC, I love his/your ramblings. *hearts*
Sooo...now, about that sequel? *angelic smile*
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Date: 2011-08-21 10:02 am (UTC)I loved it ^^
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Date: 2011-08-21 02:18 pm (UTC)It feels so canon from the very start. SO canon. I love it. LOVE IT.
I loved this line:
“Uh, I mean, not that you can't have plans, you're a grown and relatively attractive man--” Abort, DiNozzo, abort abort! “--and it's not like you live in your basement, but uh...” Tony trailed off then, suddenly at a loss for words, and Gibbs shook his head.
LOL!
The whole thing was SO GOOD. And SO HOT. And I loved that the pr0n was not just about the action itself, but was secondary to Tony's thoughts and feelings and amazement and the connection between them-it was just so good!
I'm SO HAPPY that you wrote this!!
And don't worry about it being not exactly what I wanted, because it IS exactly what I wanted. It's absolutely perfect.
OH, I also loved the moment after the sex with the "cosmic vacuum," LOL. Makes it so much more realistic. And Gibbs was so GIBBS here, oh, and I absolutely loved when Gibbs started talking more about how he'd been annoyed all day and everything and Tony realizes it's the most he's ever heard Gibbs speak-it was so PERFECT!
Okay, so I know that I'm rambling and gushing, but it was just so good!! I haven't had time to read any fics in so long, and I was so glad you posted this when you did so that I could enjoy it on a leisurely Sunday morning.
THANK YOU so much! I really honestly can't tell you enough how much I loved it! I was getting slightly worried when no one had posted a fic for me yet, LOL, and I was holding out hope that I wasn't forgotten - and your fic was PERFECT, and I'm glad I had to wait a couple days for it because it made it even BETTER!
gahh, I'm so happy. This is the first fic that has ever been written for me, and it definitely exceed expectations. :D Thank you for taking the time to write this awesome story! I absolutely love it! <3
xoxo!
no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 04:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-21 10:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 12:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 12:13 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 12:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 12:49 am (UTC)Ugh, I just love writing Tony, so I'm happy that you think he's IC. Hee!
I need to finish up Xanthe's fic before I even think of a sequel to this one, LOL!
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Date: 2011-08-22 01:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 01:13 am (UTC)And the banter was just hysterical.
Great job!
no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 01:16 am (UTC)I always try to write my porn with emotions, so it's not purely physical. So I'm glad you liked that aspect!
I'm relieved that you didn't mind about the delay - I was having some computer trouble this past week, and of course it had to be on the computer that had all of my fic, LOL!
Again - I'm so happy that you enjoyed it! :D
no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 01:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 05:14 am (UTC)Love this. So good.
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Date: 2011-08-22 05:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 07:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-22 07:52 am (UTC)Loved it!
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Date: 2011-08-22 09:18 am (UTC)This is probably the hottest Gibbs/DiNozzo thing ever? Mrughfblurblfjdafj.