Title: One on One
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Sweat, games, and basketball.

Theme: #19: The Gymnasium, or "Who likes Short-Shorts?"


The ball made a satisfying *swish* sound as it dropped through the hoop. Tony jogged over and grabbed it, dribbling it back to the foul line and shooting again. This time it circled the rim twice before falling through the net. "Losing your touch, DiNozzo," he muttered, catching the ball and trying for a one-armed shot that made it. "What would Coach Walkins say if he saw you now?"

The unofficial game had ended over an hour ago, but he'd stayed at the gym, practicing and shooting on his own. After the week he'd had, losing himself in the rhythm of basketball was about as close to meditation as he was going to get. He'd considered running, but had rejected it in favor of something more interactive. So basketball it had been, for a long, intense game that had left everyone sweaty and winded by the time it was over. And now he was on his own, practicing drills and shots he'd half-forgotten from college, all those years ago.

Tony's shirt was sticking to him, the front darkened with a deep V where he'd sweated through it. His hair was damp, probably sticking up in spots where he'd absently run his fingers through it. He didn't really care; not like anyone was around to look at him. He'd shower before he left, anyway.

"Five more," he said to himself, passing the ball around and between his legs, showing off a little for no one but himself. "Five more and we'll get out of here."

"We? You develop a split personality when I wasn't looking, DiNozzo?"

The ball flew from his fingers and dropped through the net with barely even a swoosh. "Hi, Boss," he said, turning to look. "What are you doing here?"

Gibbs walked over to him, catching the ball and scooping it up. "You've been here for over three hours," he said, tossing the ball at Tony. "Done exorcising your demons yet?"

"How long did you spend working on the boat last night?" Tony retorted, checking the ball back at him. "I'm exercising, not exorcising."

"With you, DiNozzo, there isn't much difference."

"We going to play or are you going to just hold onto that thing?" Tony nodded at the basketball in Gibbs' hands. "Ten points?"

"Twenty." Gibbs feinted right and spun to shoot the ball; Tony slapped it down and dribbled away, turning and making a jump shot that dropped neatly through the net.

"This isn't gonna take long," he said teasingly.

Gibbs just grinned at him.

It took longer than Tony had expected, but not as long as he'd secretly wished. Neither one of them were exactly playing clean and after the third time Gibbs practically body-checked him to grab the ball, Tony was about ready to throw him up against the wall then and there. He shoved *that* particular thought back in his mind and focused on the game.

It ended at twenty-sixteen, Tony's favor. He caught the ball after the last basket and wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, panting. "Good game," he managed, setting the ball down on the floor. "Not bad for a--"

"Finish that sentence, DiNozzo, and you'll be on your back so fast you'll get whiplash," Gibbs warned him.

Tony grinned. "Promise?"

Gibbs took a deliberate step toward him, then another, standing close enough Tony could see the beads of sweat at Gibbs' hairline and the faint quiver of his t-shirt as he breathed. "That what you want?" he asked softly. "You want to be on your back for me, your legs up in the air, my cock inside you? Taking you?"

Tony swallowed. "Here?" he managed, looking around involuntarily.

"If that's what you want..."

"I didn't--" Tony shut up abruptly when Gibbs kissed him, hot and hard and teeth scraping his lip, tugging hard and making him shudder. He tasted salt from their sweat and the underlying coffee flavor Gibbs always had and groaned into the kiss. "Fuck," he panted when Gibbs let him go. "Gibbs, anyone could walk in!"

"Ask me if I care." Gibbs pushed him back, shoving him up against the wall and kissing him again, almost brutally hard. "You asked for this," he whispered against Tony's mouth. "You got it. Right in the middle of this gym, right here. Wood floor against your back, sweat in your eyes and your mouth, and my cock buried so deep in your ass you'll feel it for days. Bet you came prepared, didn't you?"

Tony swallowed again. "You--"

Gibbs unbuttoned Tony's shorts pocket and pulled out a single-use packet of lube. "Who was it going to be, DiNozzo? Me? Or one of those pretty boys you were playing with earlier?"

Anger flashed in Tony's eyes and he shoved Gibbs back. "There isn't anyone else, you bastard," he snapped. "If you think for one second that I'd fuck around on you, I'm out of here. I get it from Kate, I get it from McGee, I get it from Abby. I'm not taking it from you too."

"That's exactly what you're going to do, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, grabbing his wrist. "Take it. Because you're mine now. And you'll take anything and everything I give you."

"Then you damn well better apologize for that crack," Tony told him, pulling his wrist out of Gibbs' grasp. "Because you were out of line."

Gibbs shoved him against the wall again, pinning his wrists over his head. "No one else," he said tightly. "No one."

Tony glared at him. "You stupid, condescending, insecure *bastard*! There isn't anyone else, Gibbs. There isn't fucking going to *be* anyone else, okay? You want the goddamned words? You're it. Finito. The end. The brass ring. The fucking pot of gold. Call it whatever the fuck you want, but you're it. And if you haven't realized that by now--"

He swore he tasted blood when Gibbs kissed him this time and the hold on his wrists tightened almost painfully so. "Mine," Gibbs breathed against his mouth.

"That works both ways," Tony warned him.

Gibbs smiled a little. "I can live with that."

"You're going to have to." Tony flexed his wrists, but Gibbs didn't let him go. "Gibbs--"

"What?" Gibbs bit his throat lightly, his body warm and solid and sweaty against Tony's.

"You can't fuck me against the wall. Not like this."

"Good point." Gibbs released his wrists, stepping away. "Face to face," he didn't-quite-ask.

Tony knelt on the floor, holding out a hand. Gibbs took it, kneeling opposite him. This time it was Tony's turn to lean forward, kissing Gibbs hungrily. "You wanted me on my back?" he murmured, stretching out against the polished wood.

Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment; Tony saw a shudder run through him before he shifted to kneel over Tony, bracing himself with his hands on either side of Tony's head. "You're wearing too many clothes for me to fuck you," he pointed out.

"Oops." Tony flashed him a grin and slithered back. He kicked off his shoes and wriggled out of his shorts and briefs, letting his fingers graze his erection teasingly. "You want the shirt off too?" he asked, toying with the hem.

He nearly laughed at the convulsive swallow before Gibbs managed to nod. "I want to see you," he said curtly.

"Fair's fair." Tony gave Gibbs a meaningful look and pulled off his shirt, tossing it in a crumpled, sweaty heap next to the rest of his clothes. He still couldn't believe they were stripping down to have sex in the middle of the gym--well, against the wall and partially hidden by bleachers, but still...

Gibbs smiled and pulled off his own shirt, untying the drawstring on his shorts and sliding them off as well. Tony stretched out under him as Gibbs crawled over him; he let Gibbs pin his wrists over his head again, arching his back a little. "Is this what *you* want?" he asked softly, looking at Gibbs' hold on him. "I'm on my back for you, my throat bared, naked under you--is this what you want, Gibbs? This how you want me?"

Gibbs' eyes darkened and he leaned down, biting Tony's throat right over his pulse. "As often as I can have you," he whispered against Tony's skin.

Tony shuddered, body going limp at the words. "Anytime," he managed. "Anytime, Gibbs--"

"Be careful what you say," Gibbs warned him softly. "What if I decide I want to have you in the middle of the office? If I want you to just bend over for me at your desk?"

"Oh, fuck..." Tony gasped at the image.

"You'd do it, wouldn't you? You'd drop your pants and bend over and you wouldn't care who the hell walked in. Hell, you'd probably get off on it, knowing they were watching you, knowing they all wanted to *be* you."

"Or you," Tony said, a bit breathlessly.

"That too." Gibbs bit his jaw lightly, kneeling up and releasing his wrists. The packet of lube had fallen to the floor; Tony reached over and grabbed it, handing it over.

Gibbs ripped it open, squeezing some of the contents out onto his fingers. Tony closed his eyes; if he looked he wouldn't be able to keep from coming and he didn't want that. Not now, not yet.

One finger worked its way inside him slowly, then two. Gibbs stretched him open carefully, fingers twisting and scissoring inside him. "Okay?" he murmured.

Tony nodded. "Gimme the lube." He took the packet and squeezed out the rest, wrapping his slick fingers around Gibbs' cock and stroking it, coating it with the gel. Gibbs bit his lip, looking down at Tony's hand on him.

"Lie back," he said roughly.

He did, pulling his knees up to his chest. The first push of Gibbs' cock into him made him gasp and brace his hands on the floor in an attempt to push back into it; he wrapped his legs around Gibbs' hips, trying to pull him in deeper.

Sometimes Gibbs teased him like this, staying barely inside him until Tony was half-sobbing for breath and writhing under him, begging with his voice and his body for more, anything, so long as it got Gibbs' cock buried him.

This was not one of those times. Gibbs shoved himself inside Tony in one more push, staying still for a bare second before beginning to move. It wasn't lovemaking, it wasn't tender or gentle or slow, this was just rough, raw fucking. Just sex on a varnished wooden floor, the smell of sweat and dust and rubber in his nose, salt stinging his eyes and the hard smooth wood under his back in contrast to the muscles and skin and sweat of Gibbs over him.

His legs tightened around Gibbs' hips and Gibbs buried his face in Tony's throat, licking and nipping at the skin, hard enough to verge on pain. Hard enough to leave marks, but Tony was beyond caring about that at the moment. Gibbs' hands closed around his wrists again, hard and rough and pinning him in place; Tony whined and twisted under him instinctively. He had no thoughts left, nothing left but this, heat and musk and the solid, thick feel of Gibbs buried deep inside him, driving him out of his mind.

Gibbs moved just a little differently, just enough, and lightning struck, making him see white. "Please, God, please, need it, more, give it to me, God, more..." He had no idea what he was saying, if it was even out loud or if the babbling he heard was all in his head. Every time Gibbs thrust into him sparks skittered along his spine, sending him closer and closer to the edge. One more, that was all it would take, just one more...

He gasped out something that might have been Gibbs' name when he climaxed, stars dancing in front of his eyes and blood rushing in his ears. He licked sweat away from his upper lip, still trying to catch his breath. Gibbs was still moving inside him, still fucking him hard and steady, and all he could do was hold on and take it.

"C'mon," he breathed, clenching around Gibbs. "C'mon..."

Gibbs groaned, low and deep in his throat. "Fuck, Tony..."

He only swore when he was close--Tony knew that from experience. He grinned to himself and tightened his muscles again; Gibbs cursed under his breath and thrust into him one last time before shuddering and coming with a soft groan.

Tony's legs burned when he lowered them to the floor and Gibbs pulled out of him with a grunt, almost collapsing next to him. "I need a shower," Tony said after a moment or three. He wiped sweat off his face and reached for his shorts, groaning as he pulled them on. "And I can't believe we just did that." He rubbed his tailbone and grimaced. "Next time you're on the bottom."

Gibbs laughed and pulled on his own shorts. "Shower, DiNozzo. You stink."

"You're not much better." Tony got to his feet and stretched before shoving his feet into his shoes and picking up his shirt. One look at it decided him against even bothering to pull it on. "C'mon, Gibbs. Let's get out of here."

Tony couldn't quite hide the grin as they walked toward the shower. Sometimes, all you needed was a little game of one-on-one to make the whole week worthwhile.