Title: Please (Don't) Pet The Tony
Author: rebecca
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Rating: NC-17
Summary: He's in over his head.
Notes: A while ago, dustandroses made me some absolutely gorgeous icons for my LJ. I offered her fic in exchange, and it's taken me a while but this is what I came up with. Dusty, I really hope you like this!

Love and thanks to skripka for the beta.

They ran into the apartment, guns drawn, shouting. Ziva kicked open the door to one bedroom. "Clear," she shouted, looking around.

"Clear," McGee called from the living room.

Gibbs ran through the kitchen and slammed open the door to the bathroom. "Clear," he snapped, turning for the second bedroom. He kicked it open--and his heart nearly stopped when he saw Tony lying on the bed, out cold, a bruise on his temple and his chin bloody from a split lip. Tony's gun was on the floor, and from the scratches on his hands, he'd given as good as he'd gotten. "McGee!" Gibbs shouted. "Call the EMTs, tell them we've got a federal agent in distress! Ziva, radio in to the local LEOs, give 'em a description of Thompson and Richards." He didn't bother listening for their acknowledgments before holstering his gun and kneeling next to Tony, slapping his face lightly. "DiNozzo," he barked, worry making his voice sharper than he'd intended. "DiNozzo, wake up."

Tony groaned, his eyes fluttering open. "Boss?" he asked in confusion. "What--oh, fuck," he gasped before rolling onto his side and retching.

McGee ran in while Tony was vomiting; he winced in sympathy, looking worried. "EMTs are on their way, Boss," he said. "Five minutes."

Gibbs nodded. "Good. Tony, what happened?"

"Ugh." Tony wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and managed to sit up, but he swayed dangerously and Gibbs caught him, easing him back down against the bed. "Two of them. One your height, one a little shorter. Wore black--ski masks and all. Wasn't a kidnapping--Thompson knew 'em. Think they signaled somehow, not sure how..." Tony's voice trailed off for a moment and he closed his eyes, clearly gathering his strength. "I winged one of 'em before I ended up fighting Richards for my gun--he got in a punch to the jaw, but I think I dislocated his shoulder. Then one of the goons in black cold-cocked me and I went down." He grimaced, raising a hand to his temple. "Feels like one of 'em kicked me in the gut, too," he said. "Sorry, Boss--"

"Four of them, one of you," Gibbs told him gruffly. "And you hurt two of them. We'll get 'em, Tony."

"Said something about Westbrook," Tony told him. "Something about the artifacts being there."

It meant nothing to Gibbs; he turned to McGee and Ziva, who'd come in by that point. "Westbrook?" he asked.

McGee frowned. "There's a Westbrook High School about twenty minutes from here," he said. "Only thing I know of in the area. And it's July, so odds are it's empty, or mostly."

"Thompson was a teacher," Ziva added.

Gibbs looked at him. "Call for backup," he said.

"Right." McGee touched Ziva's arm and they ran out.

"Shouldn't you go?" Tony asked, his words beginning to slur. "Instead of McGee or somethin'?"

"They'll call for backup, and I'm not leaving you until the EMTs check you over." Gibbs stood, glaring at Tony. "Understand?"

"Yes, Boss." Tony closed his eyes. "They'll make me go to th' hospital," he grumbled.

"Probably," Gibbs agreed.

"I hate th' hospital." Tony made a face.

"You passed out, DiNozzo, and you can't even sit up. You're going to the hospital. Deal with it." Gibbs glared at him--a look that ended up being somewhat wasted, since Tony had his eyes closed.

"No blue lights, okay?" Tony mumbled. "Damn things freak me out."

Gibbs felt his stomach clench at Tony's words. He remembered, all too clearly, Tony lying in the damn hospital bed, fighting for every breath he took, every rattle of his lungs. "No lights, Tony," he said, a little more sharply than he meant to. "Just the bright ones they'll shine in your eyes to make sure you didn't damage what passes for a brain."

Tony smiled a little. "Love you too, Boss," he said with a yawn.

"We'll see how much you love paperwork when you're stuck on a desk until that concussion heals," Gibbs told him.

"Only be a couple days. I've got a hard head."

"I know. I've had to drum enough into it." Just keep him talking, Gibbs knew. Keep him awake and lucid and talking.

"Thanks, Boss." Tony wrinkled his nose.

The EMTs ran in then, carrying their cases and zeroing in on Tony. Gibbs stepped out of their way and watched them examine Tony. No, he didn't have double vision--a little at first, but he was okay now. Yes, he'd vomited and yes, he was still nauseous. Yes, his head hurt, as did his stomach--one of the EMTs lifted Tony's shirt gently and Gibbs saw a bruise in the shape of a bootprint. His jaw tightened at the sight. Yes, Tony knew the date, the current President, and the starting roster of the Baltimore Orioles.

And yes, he was going to the hospital for a CT scan and tests to make sure the bruise on his stomach hadn't caused any internal problems. "We doubt it," the female EMT said, ripping off the blood pressure cuff. "His vitals are fine and it doesn't look like there's any problem. But it's SOP, and--do you have any idea how long he was unconscious?"

Gibbs thought back. It had been about five minutes from the time they'd gotten the alarm to the time they'd run in the door. Tony had said he'd fought, so--"No more than a few minutes," he said, shaking his head. "Three, four max?"

She nodded. "Good. Okay, Frank, let's get him on the gurney."

Gibbs went with them in the ambulance; there was just enough room and Ziva and McGee had taken the car anyway. Tony managed to stay awake for the ride, half-heartedly flirting with the female EMT, but he was fading fast.

The hospital swept him away, leaving Gibbs by the admissions desk. He gave them Tony's information--or as much as he knew--and was a bit surprised to discover that he was Tony's emergency contact. And then he was reduced to pacing, waiting for information on Tony, on Thompson and Richards, on anything.

His cell phone rang about ten minutes later and he went outside to answer it. "Yeah. Gibbs," he snapped.

"We got 'em, Boss," McGee said breathlessly. "Made it there just after they did--locals got there a minute after us. They're all in custody. Richards was moving like he'd just gotten his shoulder popped back into place and one of the other guys had a gunshot wound in his arm. Locals have them covered and I'm waiting for prisoner transport."

"Good work, McGee. I'll see you back at the office." Gibbs flipped off his phone and exhaled deeply. One down, now...Tony.

He couldn't go back into the hospital yet. Not when--Gibbs closed his eyes, thunking his head against the concrete wall of the hospital. "Fuck," he muttered. "Not again."

He didn't want to feel this way again. He didn't want to look at Tony and feel that need, that hunger to hold him and break him down, split him open...and then take care of him and put him back together. He didn't want it, any of it.

He couldn't feel this way.

It had been coming for a while, Gibbs knew, reluctantly acknowledging the truth. Every time Tony went undercover, every time he ended up in trouble, that pull got a little stronger, that need burned a little hotter. And now--but he couldn't. There were too many reasons why he couldn't, and no reason on earth that he could or even should.

"Damnit," he swore, before going back into the hospital.

"Agent Gibbs," the nurse said, walking briskly toward him. "This way."

He followed her back to one of the curtained areas, where Tony was half-reclining in the bed, a bandage on his temple. "I'm fine, Boss," Tony said brightly. "But they won't let me go home."

"We'd prefer to keep him overnight for observation," the doctor said, looking at Gibbs. "But we'll discharge him if someone will stay with him overnight and keep an eye on him."

Gibbs nodded. "He's all right otherwise?" he asked.

"Aside from a pretty severe concussion, various bruises, and a bootprint on his stomach, he's fine." The doctor smiled wryly, sliding her hands into the pockets of her coat. "No internal damage, nothing incredibly serious, but I want someone to keep an eye on him, and if he doesn't have someone at home--"

"I'll watch him," Gibbs interrupted.

"You mean McGee will, right?" Tony asked warily. "Or Ziva, or--"

"No, DiNozzo, I said I will. Knowing you, you'd talk McGee into leaving and I don't need Ziva in a snit. And you're not keeping Abby up all night." Gibbs glared at him, more than a bit amused when Tony visibly shrank back against the pillows. "I'll keep an eye on you."

"Good." The doctor smiled. "I'll go sign him out--we'll give you some painkillers, although nothing stronger than over-the-counters for the next twenty-four hours. You can take aspirin or ibuprofen, but Tylenol will probably be easier on your stomach." She patted Tony's calf under the blankets. "The nurse will help you get dressed."

"I've been dressing myself for--"

"Shut up and take the help," Gibbs told him. "I'll go call McGee and get him to come get us." He walked outside before he could lose what little control he had left.

Spending the night with Tony? Was he insane?

Gibbs rubbed his forehead and took out his phone. Apparently so.

McGee arrived about half an hour later, after making sure Thompson, Richards, and the other two goons were safely locked up. "We've got the high school cordoned off," he said. "Local LEOs are conducting a search for the artifacts now. Ziva's there, and I called in Cassie Yates--she was nearby. I'll go back to help once I take Tony home. You going back, Boss?"

"No." Gibbs shook his head. "DiNozzo needs someone to make sure he doesn't do something idiotic overnight, so I'm keeping an eye on him until morning. You go back and make sure everything gets handled properly." He smiled briefly. "Don't let Ziva eat the locals."

"I'll try, Boss." McGee grinned a little.

The nurse came outside, pushing the wheelchair with Tony in it. As soon as the doors closed, he got to his feet, swaying for one moment before gaining his balance and walking toward them. "Let's go," he said cheerfully. "Hey, Probie. Get the bastards?"

McGee nodded. "We got there a minute after they did, thanks to Ziva's driving."

"I'm amazed you're still in one piece." Tony snorted. "Let's go. My bed is calling me."

Gibbs took shotgun--but only after watching Tony slide into the backseat, stretching out as best he could. He'd have preferred to drive, except he really didn't want Tony to throw up again. So he resigned himself to dealing with McGee's sedate driving and looked out the window the whole drive back.

Tony had apparently dozed off; he woke up with a jerk when McGee parked outside his building. "Thanks, Probie," he said, clapping McGee on the shoulder. "Remind me to dump my paperwork on Ziva instead of you."

McGee rolled his eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it, Tony."

"Call me and keep me updated," Gibbs ordered McGee, getting out of the car. "No one goes home until all the "I"s are dotted, understand?"

"You got it, Boss." McGee nodded. Gibbs shut the door and thumped the top of the car, watching him drive off.

Gibbs turned to Tony, gripping his upper arm to steady him as he got out of the car and onto the sidewalk. "Thanks, Boss," Tony said with a weak grin. "Not really feeling up to salsa dancing here."

"Yeah." Gibbs steered him toward the front door. "Come on, DiNozzo, let's get you inside."

"Yes, Boss." Tony dug out his keycard and got them in the front door, punching the call button for the elevator. Once inside, he slumped against the wall, gingerly touching his stomach. "Ow," he muttered.

Gibbs looked at him carefully; not thrilled with the pasty color of Tony's skin or the way he hunched over a bit, probably trying to ease the pain from the bruise on his stomach. "You have Tylenol, DiNozzo?" he asked.

Tony nodded. "From the last time I got whacked in the head." He grinned, but it was a poor imitation of his usual cheerful smile. "Way I feel now, aspirin'd probably make me retch."

"I'm not cleaning up after you," Gibbs told him.

"Thanks, Boss." Tony stepped off the elevator and turned to his door. He fumbled with the key for a moment, but managed to get the door unlocked just before Gibbs would have taken the keys out of his hands. "Welcome to Casa DiNozzo," he said, gesturing grandly. "I cleaned in honor of your arrival."

Gibbs snorted and walked in, inwardly amused that the place was clean. Tony apparently hadn't been kidding about having a maid, or cleaning lady, or whatever they were called these days. "Go change and get into bed, Tony," he said tiredly. "I'll get you some Tylenol."

Tony blinked. "I got it, Boss. Need to hit the john anyway." He walked off toward his bathroom, already beginning to pull off his shirt.

Alone in Tony's living room, Gibbs looked around, a little amused at the pillow and blanket on the couch, the DVDs stacked on his coffee table. Looked like Tony spent a few nights in his living room, rather than his bed.

He walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out two bottles of water. Tony might not feel thirsty, but he needed something in his stomach. Gibbs figured he'd look around later for soup; for right now, he took the water and headed for Tony's bedroom.

"Boss!" Tony squawked, grabbing his pajama pants and shoving them in front of his crotch. "Knock, would you?"

"Unless you're not telling me something, I've seen it all before," Gibbs said, a little more roughly than he meant to.

"That's nice, but could you not see it again now?" Tony said, strangled.

Probably a good idea anyway, Gibbs thought, turning around. Tony was hurt, and not feeling well, and Christ but Gibbs needed to stop thinking of him as anything other than a subordinate.

"Thanks," Tony said a moment later. "I think."

Gibbs turned around again and held out the water bottle. "You probably need something to drink," he said.

"Yeah. I guess." Tony sat down on the edge of his bed, taking the bottle. "Thanks." He twisted off the cap and took a drink, licking water off his lower lip. Gibbs forced himself to look away, gritting his teeth. He did not need this.

Tony put the bottle down. "Um, Boss?" he asked carefully. "You don't have to stand here and watch me, you know."

"I know that, DiNozzo." Gibbs took a drink of his own water.

"Then...what are you still doing here?" Tony pulled his legs up onto the bed, settling under his comforter. He shoved the pillows behind his back and looked at Gibbs, confused.

Tony wasn't wearing a shirt, and with the way he was sitting in bed the outline of the bruise on his stomach was incredibly clear. Gibbs wondered who had done it, and if there would be a way to 'accidentally' return the favor.

"Get some sleep, Tony." Gibbs paused with his hand on the light switch. "I'll be here if you need me."

"Yeah." Tony's eyes were already closing. "Always are, Boss," he mumbled.

Gibbs turned off the light and left, leaving the door slightly open. "I know," he said quietly, walking back to the living room and Tony's ugly but comfortable couch. "I know, Tony."

He settled on the couch with his bottle of water. Looking at his watch, he figured he'd give McGee fifteen minutes before calling. In the meantime, he sighed and leaned back against the couch cushions. "I'm an idiot," he muttered to himself.

Not that it was new information, but it bore repeating, especially with him stuck at Tony's place for the night. Hopefully, if he stayed here and Tony stayed there, it'd be fine. He'd lasted this long; he could last longer.

Forever, if necessary.

Four minutes later, he was jolted out of his funk by his phone. "Gibbs," he barked into it.

"Boss, it's me. McGee."

"I know who you are, McGee. What's going on?"

"We found the stuff. The artifacts, I mean. They were in the basement of the high school. From what we've been able to gather, Richards had a change of heart about cooperating. We're still not sure how he signaled Collins and Razinni--those were the guys in black. None of them are talking. Collins is an ex-petty officer, Razinni was dishonorably discharged for unbecoming conduct. So once Tony got them to the safe house, Razinni and Collins broke in. The idea was to get Tony out of the way and go back for the stuff."

"So why didn't they just shoot him?" Gibbs asked.

"Not sure. Ziva's working on Thompson--if any of them are likely to break, it'll be him. Oh, and Razinni's the one who did most of the damage to Tony. He's currently shackled." McGee's voice held a note of grim pleasure and Gibbs held back a snort of approval.

"Good," he said instead.

"Thanks, Boss. How's Tony?"

"Asleep." Gibbs glanced in the direction of the bedroom. "He's fine."

"Good." McGee sounded relieved. "That's...that's good. Will he be in tomorrow?"

"He'll have to fill out an incident report, at least," Gibbs said. "After that, I don't know. Depends on whether he can stand up or not."

"Okay. So--um--I'll get back to everything," McGee said.

"Yeah. Keep me posted." Gibbs flipped off his phone and sighed. Realistically, he should be at the office and someone else--anyone else--should be with Tony. Or Tony should just have spent the night at the hospital. But Gibbs hadn't been able to leave him there, and he was just enough of a masochist to stay.

He propped his feet on the coffee table, dropping his head back against the couch. Maybe he could get a catnap, at least.

Gibbs didn't know how long it had been before he was jolted awake by the feel of someone sitting down next to him. He jumped slightly, turning to see Tony. "You should be in bed," he said gruffly.

"My head hurts too much to sleep and I can't get comfortable with this bootprint on my stomach anyway." Tony sighed. "And it's July 17, the president is Dubya--unlucky us. My name is Anthony Michael DiNozzo, and the best movie ever made was--well, there are too many of those to count."

Gibbs snorted. "You want anything to drink?" The irony of offering Tony a drink in his own apartment didn't escape him.

"I think I've got some juice in the fridge. That'd be good." Tony closed his eyes and propped his feet up next to Gibbs'.

"Okay." Gibbs pushed himself to his feet and walked into Tony's small kitchen. He opened the fridge, seeing a couple bottles of sports drinks, some random leftovers, and a quart of orange juice--which, surprisingly, wasn't empty.

It took him a moment to find the glasses; once he did, he poured Tony a glass of the juice and went back into the living room. "Here," he said, handing Tony the glass.

"Thanks, Boss." Their fingers brushed and Gibbs fought back the spark that ran through him.

Tony sipped the juice. "You want to watch a movie?" he offered.

"You up for that, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"So long as we don't watch Aliens, I'm cool." Tony grinned and reached for the remote, wincing as he did. "Okay. I think…" He turned on the TV and pressed a couple other buttons. "I've got The African Queen in here," he said. "That cool with you?"

Bogart and Hepburn--electric combination and wonderful movie. "Sure," Gibbs said, picking up his bottle of water. Of course, it was also a romance, but he wasn't the date-movie type and frankly, he didn't think Tony was either.

He didn't really pay attention to the movie, keeping his attention split between Tony and the screen. About halfway through the movie, Tony's eyes began to droop closed; Gibbs wasn't surprised, any more than he was surprised when Tony began to snore softly. He leaned over and picked up the remote, figuring out how to shut off the DVD and the TV as well.

Tony made a snuffling sound and slumped down, lying sideways on the couch. His head brushed against Gibbs' thigh and his legs hung over the arm of the couch and one arm curled protectively over his stomach.

Gibbs closed his eyes. "Christ," he muttered. Almost without realizing it, he reached down, stroking Tony's hair gently. Tony murmured and turned into the caress, sighing a bit.

Fuck. Gibbs exhaled deeply and looked down at Tony, at the split lip and the bruise on his temple. He looked at his fingers in Tony's hair, and at Tony's skin in the soft light of the lamp.

And he fought back the hunger to hold Tony and caress him and tuck him into bed and make him comfortable. That wasn't going to get him anywhere but trouble.

Tony sighed and shifted again, ending up with his head on Gibbs' thigh. He turned to face the back of the couch, putting his lips perilously close to Gibbs' groin. Gibbs bit the inside of his cheek and thought of the case and Razinni in shackles, only shackles led to handcuffs led to black leather and Tony's skin and oh, fuck, he was in trouble.

Gibbs stood up carefully and rested Tony's head on the couch instead of his lap. Tony made an unhappy sound, reaching up like he was trying to find Gibbs. He settled down again with a groan. But even asleep, he didn't look happy about it.

There was an armchair nearby, an overstuffed thing that didn't match the couch but proved to be almost as comfortable when Gibbs sat down in it. He slumped down against the back and watched Tony shift restlessly in his sleep and told himself firmly that Tony was a grown man who was capable of sleeping without a teddy bear, human or stuffed.

Eventually, the day caught up with him and he let his own eyes fall shut, sleep wrapping around him softly and surely.

He woke up to the sound of a groan and a curse. Blinking his eyes open, he saw that the sun was starting to rise and Tony was stretched out on his back, one arm flung over his eyes and the other draped over his stomach. "I must be alive," he said with another groan. "I feel too horrible to be dead."

"Trust me, DiNozzo, if you were dead, I wouldn't be sitting in your armchair," Gibbs said, rubbing his hands over his face. He looked at his watch and saw that it was just before six. "I'd be haunting your ass for being stupid enough to die."

"Is that what you--" Tony stopped abruptly and grimaced. "Sorry, Boss. What time is it?"

"Six," Gibbs said, knowing what Tony had been about to say and glad he hadn't. "Think you're up for a shower? Might help."

"Don't know." Tony pushed himself up painfully and stood up, bending over with one arm wrapped around his abdomen. "Maybe?"

"If maybe means you'll fall over in the tub, stick to no," Gibbs told him. "I'm not taking you back to the hospital."

That, and keeping his desire in check when faced with a wet, naked Tony was going to be all-but-impossible. Gibbs sighed and wished--again--that he'd let anyone else stay with Tony. Even Ziva.

"I'll be okay," Tony said, nodding. "Just needed to get my balance." He walked off toward the bathroom, and although Gibbs watched him closely, he didn't see anything to indicate that Tony was unsteady on his feet or about to fall over.

Gibbs calculated times and driving and figured that they could probably be at the office by seven, seven-fifteen at the outside. He had his kit there and could freshen up once they got in, and either McGee or Ziva could take Tony home once he filled out the incident report and had Ducky look him over.

Not that Gibbs didn't trust the doctor who had examined Tony yesterday. He just trusted Ducky more.

After about twenty minutes, the water shut off and Gibbs heard sounds of Tony moving around in his bedroom. But then he heard a groan, and a thud, and he was on his feet and in Tony's bedroom before he could think.

Tony was on his knees, holding his stomach protectively. The thud Gibbs had heard was probably the sound he'd made hitting the floor. He was naked, and his hair was wet, and Gibbs didn't know whether to yell at him or kiss him and put him to bed.

"DiNozzo, what happened?" he asked instead.

"I moved." Tony grimaced. "My stomach didn't like it, and neither did my head, and I lost my balance. Can you help me up?"

Gibbs swore under his breath and walked to Tony, crouching down next to him. "Sheer miracle you didn't fall in the shower," he muttered.

"I had a wall to lean against. Honestly, Boss, I just moved too fast." Tony gripped Gibbs' forearms, and as Gibbs stood Tony used him to pull himself to his feet.

"You're not moving outside this apartment," Gibbs told him. "You can fill out the report tomorrow or the day after, but you're taking a sick day today. I can't have you falling over every time you try to walk across the office." He tightened his jaw, ignoring the warmth from Tony's body, the peppermint scent of his soap or his shampoo, the beads of water on his shoulders. "Get back in bed, Tony," he said. "You're not going anywhere."

"Um." Tony swallowed. "I can--"

"Get back in bed," Gibbs repeated.

"Right." Tony swallowed again. "You have to let go of me first, Boss," he said after a moment.

Gibbs looked down. He hadn't realized he was still holding on to Tony--or that Tony was still holding on to him. "Yeah," he said, cursing his voice for being hoarser than he wanted. Slowly, he forced his hands to let go of Tony's arms.

But Tony didn't let go of him. "Boss," he said carefully. "Um."

"You okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

"No, not really. Um." Tony looked away. "I have a concussion and a really, really sore stomach and I'm probably not operating at full capacity here, and I feel like someone ran me over with a steamroller--twice--and I know I should be protesting about you making me stay home but the truth is I'm kind of relieved about it." He exhaled deeply. "And if you don't kiss me I think I'm going to go insane."

Gibbs stared at him. "I think that knock on your head rattled your brain more than we thought," he said in shock.

"Or maybe it cleared up a few things." Tony licked his lips. "If you don't want me, tell me, and you can fire me or transfer me and we'll pretend I never made an idiot out of myself and--"

Gibbs kissed him.

Tony blinked at him, dazed, when the kiss ended. "Oh," he said softly. "So I'm not getting fired?"

"No." Gibbs tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the smile. "No, Tony, you're not, but we're also not discussing this until your concussion is gone and you're operating at full capacity."

Hopefully, by then Tony would realize what a bad, stupid idea this was and change his mind. And if he didn't, maybe Gibbs would be able to talk him out of it. Gibbs didn't hold out much hope he'd be able to convince himself otherwise.

Besides. Even if Tony wanted Gibbs, there was no guarantee or indication he'd want anything else. And Gibbs wasn't sure he'd be willing to settle for less.

Not with Tony.

Gibbs managed to look away, long enough to find the folded pile of laundry on Tony's dresser. He grabbed a pair of sweatpants and held them out, almost like a shield. "Here," he said. "Put those on and get into bed."

Tony took the sweatpants and sat down to pull them on, looking up at Gibbs. "I could maybe come in this afternoon," he offered. "Long enough to fill out my report."

"Tomorrow, and that's only if you can get dressed without falling over." Gibbs shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "You want aspirin or something?"

"Yeah. It's in the bathroom medicine cabinet." Tony swung his legs up onto the bed, pulling the comforter over them.

Gibbs nodded and went to get him the bottle and a glass of water. "Here," he said, returning with both. "You going to be okay on your own today?"

"I'll be fine, Boss." Tony downed four aspirin with a gulp of water and leaned back against the pillows. "Honest."

"I'll call you in the morning," Gibbs told him. "If you're up for it, I'll come pick you up for work."

"I will be," Tony promised. "Honestly, I could--"

"Stay. Put." Gibbs all-but-growled at him and was inwardly amused--and intrigued--to see Tony's eyes drop.

Maybe…but no. He wasn't going to think about that until much, much later.

"I'll call you later," he said.

"Keep me posted?" Tony asked, and Gibbs nodded.

"I'll let you know what's going on. You rest."

"Sure thing, Boss." Tony grinned at him; Gibbs shook his head wryly and left.

He made it to the office before McGee and Ziva and ducked into the head to freshen up, pulling on the spare shirt he kept in his desk and brushing his teeth. When he went back to his desk, McGee was there. "Oh! Hi, Boss, didn't know you were here already. I just got in--don't know where Ziva is," he said.

Gibbs nodded. "What's going on?"

"Ziva broke Thompson last night. He copped a plea in exchange for testimony against the other three." McGee shrugged. "We've got enough to put them all away."

"Good." Gibbs sat down and opened up his email. "DiNozzo won't be in today. You and Ziva can argue over who gets his paperwork."

"Or we could just leave it for him to return," Ziva said briskly, walking in. "I suppose he'll be in tomorrow, yes?"

"If he can stand up," Gibbs told her. "Nice work on Thompson."

She smiled. "It was nothing."

Gibbs nodded and turned back to his desk.

The day passed quietly, full of paperwork wrap-ups and phone calls. Gibbs was pleased to find that Razinni and Richards would be getting longer sentences than the other two, due to the assault on Tony.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. It all came back to Tony. In the end, it all came back to Tony.

And if you don't kiss me I think I'm going to go insane.

Fuck. There was no way. No chance. Tony was concussed, he wasn't thinking properly, and when his head got back to normal he'd regret everything he'd said.

Gibbs stood abruptly. "I'm going for coffee," he said, striding out of the office. It might not make anything clearer, but it would give him something to do for a little while.

On his way back, he stopped and picked up a Caff-Pow for Abby. She wouldn't have any light to shed on the situation that didn't exist, but she'd cheer up his day, and right now that was all Gibbs could ask for.

"Aw, thanks, Gibbs!" Abby took the soda with a grin, taking a deep pull on the straw before setting it down. "What can I do for you?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Unless there's new evidence I don't know about?"

"Sorry, but no." Abby spun on her stool and pointed to her table, where she was building...something. "I'm trying to build the battle of Gettysburg. What do you think?"

He studied it carefully. "Not bad, Abs," he said. "I take it your day's as slow as ours?"

She groaned. "I'm even caught up on my forensics journal reading. Give me something interesting, okay? Like a good juicy murder--I mean, not that I want anyone to die, but--" Abby sighed. "That's not going to end well no matter how I put it, is it?"

Gibbs laughed. "No," he told her. "But I'll see what I can do about finding you an interesting case that doesn't involve people dying." He tugged her pigtail. "Thanks, Abs."

Abby blinked. "For what?"

He just smiled and headed back upstairs. Ziva was away from her desk--probably reporting to Jen, Gibbs thought without heat. He knew where Ziva's loyalties lay.

McGee was frowning at his monitor, fingers flying over the keyboard. Gibbs thought briefly about asking him what he was doing, before deciding against it. He didn't really feel like listening to a stammered explanation of something he probably wouldn't understand anyway.

So he looked at his email and took a drink of coffee and thought that while the office might be more productive while Tony was gone--and that was a maybe--it was sure as hell less interesting.

The day passed, somehow, and at the end of it Gibbs sent McGee to check on Tony and went home to find a beer or three. Probably a stupid idea, but he couldn't get Tony out of his head. He couldn't forget the stunned, dazed look on Tony's face when Gibbs had kissed him, the flush on his cheeks.

He couldn't forget the way Tony's eyes had dropped.

That didn't mean anything, Gibbs told himself, smoothing his hand over a plank. He'd barked at Tony; Tony had responded the way any sane person would. That was all there was to it.

If he told himself that often enough, he might even believe it.

Gibbs slept restlessly that night and was jolted out of a half-dream by his phone ringing at….0600, the clock said. He fumbled the phone open, rolling onto his back. "Gibbs," he said, turning away to yawn.

"Hey, Boss," Tony said cheerfully. "Gonna pick me up on your way to work or can I drive myself?"

"You're not driving until Ducky says you can." Gibbs rubbed a hand over his face. "I'll pick you up in thirty."

"Sure you don't want to send McGee?" Tony asked, and there was something behind the light words. "He seemed to think he was my babysitter last night. Had to chase him out so I could get some sleep."

"I sent him to check on you, not babysit you," Gibbs said grumpily. "You have a problem with him, take it up with him."

"Duly noted. So, see you in half an hour?"

"You'd better be ready." Gibbs hung up and stared at the ceiling.

If he was any more of an idiot--well, he'd been there before and it had ended with his second marriage. He wasn't going to make that mistake again, no matter what Tony wanted.

No matter what Tony thought he wanted.

He got ready for work and left, swinging by his coffee place on the way to Tony's. He was going to need the caffeine.

Tony was already waiting downstairs for him, dressed in a blue pinstriped shirt and gray slacks. The bruise on his temple stood out against his skin, but he didn't look too pale and when he walked forward to get into the car, he didn't look the least bit unsteady on his feet. "Hey, Boss," he said lightly. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"You're getting checked out by Ducky," Gibbs told him. "And you've got an incident report to fill out."

"Paperwork, the joy of my existence." Tony grimaced. "I can tell it's going to be a fun day."

Gibbs ignored the comment and focused on the drive. Inwardly, he was a bit relieved; if Tony was being sarcastic, he was fine.

"Um, Boss?" Tony asked as Gibbs turned into the garage.

"Yeah?"

Tony bit his lip. "I. Um." He blew out a breath. "Look, I had a concussion yesterday, and I probably still have one today. But."

"Spit it out, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly, parking the car. He was afraid he knew what this was about.

"I meant it," Tony blurted.

"Meant what?" Gibbs turned to him.

Oh, that had been a mistake. Tony's eyes were intent on him, that focused, keen look Gibbs knew from cases and interrogations. "You know what I'm talking about," Tony said, and while his voice wasn't entirely steady the look in his eyes was.

"We're not discussing this now," Gibbs said, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Tony caught his arm. "Better now than in the bullpen."

"We're not doing this, DiNozzo. You work for me, it's that simple." Gibbs pulled his arm away.

"Nothing's ever that simple, Gibbs, and you know that too. You want me, don't pretend you don't. You kissed me."

"Yeah, I did. Call it temporary insanity." Gibbs glared at him.

Tony shook his head. "That wasn't temporary insanity. You wanted it as much as I did. So are we going to do something about it or are we going to live in denial?"

"We can't, DiNozzo. You work for me. It doesn't matter." Besides--what Gibbs wanted wasn't what Tony did.

"It does matter," Tony insisted. "We can make this work, Gibbs. Whatever 'this' is."

"DiNozzo--Tony--" Gibbs took a deep breath, trying not to say something he knew he'd regret in thirty seconds. "Go fill out your incident report. See Ducky. Get McGee to take you home. Don't push me over something when you don't even know--"

"I don't even know what?" Tony said softly, into the sudden silence. "What don't I know, Gibbs?"

Shit. Gibbs stayed silent, trying to come up with something to say. Something that would make sense, that wouldn't--just something.

"What don't I know?" Tony repeated. "What is it, Gibbs?"

Gibbs closed his eyes. "Nothing," he said tiredly. "Nothing, Tony."

"Damnit, don't lie to me!" Tony snapped. "I can take rejection, GIbbs, and I can take whatever idiotic reason you give me and hell, i might just be able to prove you wrong, but don't lie to me. Tell me the truth. You owe me that much." He stopped, breathing harshly. "I've worked for you for too long, I've put myself on the line for you too many times for you to lie to me."

Gibbs shook his head. "You wouldn't understand," he said quietly.

"Then make me understand!" Tony grabbed his arm again. "Make me understand, Gibbs, because right now all I see is that you don't want me, and I know that's a lie."

Something snapped, and the next thing Gibbs knew his hands were on Tony's face and he was kissing Tony hard, deep, the kind of kiss he'd dreamed about for a long, long time. "It's not that I don't want you," he said huskily, still cupping Tony's face. "It's that I want more from you, Tony."

Tony licked his lips. "More?" He sounded dazed.

"I want everything you have," Gibbs said, the words sounding unreal to him even as he spoke. "I want it all, Tony. Everything. I want you on your knees for me, I want you willing to do anything I ask, everything i tell you. I want you ready for me at any time, any place, and I want you to thank me for it all and beg me for more. Do you understand, Tony? Do you have any idea what that is, what I want from you?" He stopped, trying to breathe normally. "I don't want to date you, Tony, and I sure as hell don't want romance and candles. Do you understand now?"

Tony stared at him, eyes impossibly wide. His pupils were dilated, his lips slightly parted, and when Gibbs managed to glance down he saw a bulge in the front of Tony's pants. "All--" Tony paused, swallowing. He licked his lips and took a deep breath. "All you've ever had to do was ask, Gibbs," he whispered.

No. No. It couldn't--"You don't know what you're saying," Gibbs managed.

Anger flared in Tony's eyes. "I know my own mind," he said, clearly trying to keep his voice even. "I know what I want, same as you. And I'm telling you, Gibbs, that all you've ever had to do was ask."

Gibbs closed his eyes. "Christ, Tony, could you have picked a worse time for this?" he asked finally. He sighed. "Go...go do your report. Get checked out. Have McGee take you home."

"You're telling me no?" Tony asked, and he sounded so vulnerable Gibbs wanted to pull him into his arms and kiss him.

"I'm not telling you no. I'm telling you not now." Gibbs rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Then come over tomorrow. It's Friday, we're off-call this weekend. After work. Please." Tony swallowed. "Tomorrow."

Tony was watching him with a look so open and unguarded, so damned fragile--Gibbs ground his teeth together. Tony wasn't some damned china ballerina, he was a grown man, and he wasn't going to break if Gibbs said no.

Only...Gibbs sighed and cursed himself for a blind idiot. "All right," he said, albeit reluctantly. "Tomorrow."

Tony leaned over and kissed his cheek, his lips soft and warm and dry. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Gibbs forced himself not to touch the spot where Tony's lips had been, no matter how it tingled. "Go do your report and get checked out, Tony," he said without looking over. "Have McGee take you home."

"You're not coming up to the office?" Tony asked.

"I'll be up shortly. Go on."

Tony hesitated, but in the end he nodded. "Okay."  

Gibbs waited until the car door closed behind Tony to thump his head against the car seat. "Christ," he muttered. Tony was offering him everything he wanted, plain and simple. Question was, was he going to be fool enough to take it? Or fool enough to say no? 

He downed his coffee and went into the office. Tony was working on his computer, Ziva was just hanging up her jacket, and while Gibbs saw McGee's jacket he didn't see McGee. He shrugged to himself, figuring McGee was either in the head or down in Abby's lab. Either way, he didn't really care.

Minutes ticked by, hours crawled, and if Gibbs had thought yesterday was slow it was nothing compared to this. McGee and Tony left around 0930; McGee returned about forty-five minutes later saying that Tony had said he was going to stretch out on his couch and watch movies all day.

Gibbs squashed the faint desire of wanting to go watch movies with him and forced himself to focus.

He wasn't sure how successful he was, but neither Ziva nor McGee said anything and he didn't see them looking at each other curiously, either. Jen, thankfully, didn't bother him and he stayed out of Abby's lab. She'd give him grief over that another time, Gibbs knew, but for now it was worth it.

That night passed in a haze of beer and wood; Gibbs fell asleep under the boat and woke up at 0530 with a stiff neck and a truly vile taste in his mouth. He stumbled upstairs, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking it into the shower, and between the caffeine and the hot water managed to feel semi-human by the time he was dressed and out the door.

Tony was there already when Gibbs walked in; he wasn't surprised. Let Ziva and McGee think what they would--Gibbs knew how hard Tony worked. He also knew that Tony preferred to work when no one saw him.

One of these days, Gibbs thought, he was going to find out why Tony pushed so hard to keep up the facade.

"DiNozzo," he said coolly, sliding into his seat and booting up his computer. "Got anything for me?"

Tony looked up. "Hey, Boss. No, but I might in a while. There was an email in my inbox about a cold case--Sophie Hamilton, from a year ago. Some possible new information, so I'm refreshing my memory unless something else comes along."

Gibbs nodded and took a drink of coffee. "We had a suspect there," he said, remembering.

"Yeah, and we had to let him go for lack of evidence. Depending on what I've got here, we might get more or get a new lead, I don't know." Tony shrugged and reached for his own coffee cup.

"Don't know what, Tony?" McGee asked, walking in.

Tony grinned at him. "Which lovely lady I'm going to be taking out this weekend. So many options."

McGee rolled his eyes and sat down. "Morning, Boss," he said, looking over at Gibbs.

Gibbs grunted a reply and began scanning through his email. Three from Jen, wanting to meet with him--he deleted those off the bat. A bunch of junk about office things he had no interest in--also to the trash folder. Two from Abby, threatening revenge and unspecified havoc to his computer and his person if he didn't come visit her and bring caffeine NOW. The second had a little picture of a computer being carved up by a scalpel, dripping blood.

He replied to that one, telling her he'd be by with soda as soon as he could. While he didn't really care if she hurt his computer, he was less sanguine about his person. As Abby had put it before, 'Don't fuck with the person who can kill you without leaving traces'.

Ziva came in, raising an eyebrow to see Tony there already. "I would have thought you'd be home again," she commented.

Tony shrugged. "I knew you'd miss my charming presence too much." He gave her a dazzling grin; she snorted and began checking her voicemail.

Nothing happened that day, and Gibbs couldn't decide whether to be grateful or frustrated. On the one hand, he didn't know if he'd be able to concentrate. He couldn't stop thinking about Tony, about Tony's mouth against his, about what it would feel like to have Tony's body under him.

What it would be like to be inside him.

If this was going to be what it would be like from now on, there was no way anything could happen. Gibbs couldn't afford to be this distracted; he had a job to do. Unfortunately, he didn't know if not being with Tony would help. Not now that he knew.

On the other hand, now he had no excuse not to go to Tony's apartment.

The day limped to a close and Ziva and McGee left, leaving Tony and Gibbs alone in the office. "I'll pick up Chinese," Gibbs said, his voice sounding rough to his ears. "Anything you want?"

"Um--General Tso's?" Tony asked.

Gibbs nodded. "Sure." He stood, pulling on his jacket. "I'll see you in a bit."

Tony smiled a little. "See you soon," he said before heading out.

Gibbs rubbed a hand over his face and got up to leave. He stopped at Cheng's on his way and picked up General Tso's and chicken in black bean sauce and egg rolls and pork fried rice, hoping that maybe they could eat dinner without...Christ. He didn't even know.

He parked outside Tony's building and hit the buzzer; Tony buzzed him in almost immediately and he took the elevator up to Tony's floor, knocking on the door.

"Hey," Tony said, opening it. "C'mon in."

He'd laid plates and silverware on the coffee table, Gibbs noticed as he set the bag down and began taking out containers of food. "You have anything to drink?" he asked.

"Um. Yeah." Tony blew out a breath. "I've got water, or--you want a beer?"

"Yeah." Gibbs nodded. "That'd be good."

"Be right back." Tony disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with two open bottles. He handed one to Gibbs and kept the other. "Cheers," he said, raising his bottle.

"Cheers." Gibbs tapped his bottle against Tony's and drank. It was good--some dark microbrew Gibbs had never heard of.

"So--um--you hungry?" Tony asked.

"Yeah." He wasn't, but eating would give them something to do. Gibbs sat down on the couch, passing Tony's chicken to him and opening the egg rolls and duck sauce.

Tony opened his carton, but he just looked at it for a moment before setting it down. "Why, Gibbs? Why didn't you ever say anything before?"

"I couldn't." Gibbs put his egg roll down. "Think, Tony. It's not just a sexual harrassment suit waiting to happen, it's your career. Or mine. Both, probably. Do you have any idea what would happen if this got out?"

"Yeah, Gibbs." Tony looked away. "I do. It's why I left Peoria. I wasn't sleeping with my partner, but I was sleeping with a man and that was enough." He took a long drink from his bottle.

"That's nothing, Tony. Compared to what would happen if word got out that you were sleeping with me--"

"Damnit, stop trying to talk me out of this!" Tony snapped. "I'm not changing my mind, Gibbs." He moved to the cushion next to Gibbs, eyes searching Gibbs' face. "Admit it, Gibbs. You're not worried about your career. You're worried about mine. Or you're just looking for an excuse."

"Tony--" Gibbs groaned.

"Tell me the truth," Tony insisted. "I deserve that."

Christ. Remembering that he'd hired Tony for his tenacity and his perception didn't help much right about now. Gibbs sighed and met Tony's eyes. "Yes, I'm worried about your career," he said quietly. "You're a good agent, Tony. A damned good one. You deserve the chance to have your own team and advance. This could ruin all that."

"I'm an adult, Gibbs. I'm well aware that actions have consequences." Tony blew out a breath. "I think this is worth it. If we're careful, we'll be okay."

Okay? No. They weren't going to be okay. Insane, crazy, hopeless, sure. Gibbs was pretty sure that if he looked down, he wasn't going to see the bottom and looking up was only going to get him water in his eyes. So no, okay wasn't on the list.

"I know what you want, Gibbs." The soft, even words hit Gibbs like a sucker punch and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from responding.

Tony slipped off the couch, kneeling in front of Gibbs. His hands were on his thighs and he wasn't touching Gibbs and Gibbs felt him so keenly it almost hurt. "I know what you want," Tony repeated. "You think I don't, Gibbs? You think I don't know?" The look in his eyes was challenging and submissive at the same time.

"You didn't know yesterday morning," Gibbs said, his voice rough.

"No." Tony smiled. "I didn't, because I'd never looked. But I know now." He reached up, taking Gibbs' hands in his own. "You think I don't want this?" he asked. "Use that famous gut of yours, Gibbs. Tell me what you think I want."

Gibbs looked down at Tony's hands where they wrapped around his own. He looked at Tony, calm and sure of himself, at the clear, open look in his eyes. And he wondered just which one of them was supposed to be in control.

"How long?" he asked finally.

Tony smiled faintly. "The day you hired me."

And he'd never noticed. Gibbs shook his head inwardly. Some investigator he was.

Slowly, he turned his hands under Tony's, wrapping his fingers around Tony's wrists, rubbing his thumbs over the tendons. Tony licked his lips; when Gibbs pressed his thumbs into the skin, Tony gasped softly.

Good. Gibbs pulled him in, leaning down to kiss him. He kept it gentle, teasing Tony's lips with his tongue, and was a little surprised when Tony moaned, mouth opening easily under Gibbs'. Tony leaned closer to him, trying to get more, but Gibbs pulled back. Not yet.

"How long?" he asked again, wondering if Tony understood.

Tony looked at his hands. "Since college," he admitted. "On and off. More off than on, recently."

Gibbs wasn't surprised. Working where they did, it was too dangerous if they got caught. "Do you switch?" he asked.

Tony gave him an incredulous look. "Do you honestly think I do?" he asked in surprise.

Good point. Gibbs smiled faintly and let go of Tony. "No," he admitted. "I guess not."

"I want to let go of control," Tony said quietly. "When I'm in a scene, I want to let go. I'm not like you, Gibbs."

But he was, Gibbs thought. More than he knew.

More than Gibbs wanted him to know.

"C'mere," he said, nodding at the couch.

Tony pushed himself up and took a seat on the couch. "So...what now?" he asked, looking slightly uncertain.

Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his thoughts and reaching for the calm center he knew he was going to need. Tony wanted this, and Gibbs...

Denial only worked for so long.

Finding that space inside himself was easy, so much easier than he'd thought it would be. Gibbs let himself fall into it, settling into that calm, that frame of mind where everything was just a little bit different. A little brighter, a little sharper. Just a little more.

When he opened his eyes, the doubt and the uncertainty were gone, and all that was left...was the truth.

He knew Tony saw the difference; Tony's eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat. "Gibbs," he whispered.

Gibbs reached for Tony's wrists, encircling them with his own hands and squeezing tight. "This is what you wanted," he murmured, pressing his thumbs hard against the tendons. "Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question. Tony licked his lips, shivering a little. "Yes," he whispered. "Yes."

Gibbs pulled, just a little, and Tony fell forward against him. Gibbs could feel his heart beating and hear the soft sound of his breath as it caught in his throat. He bent his head and kissed Tony, taking his time, coaxing his mouth open and slipping his tongue inside to explore. Tony made a soft sound, not quite a moan, and when he tried to reach for Gibbs' shoulders Gibbs let his hands go. Tony's fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt; he shifted to press closer, almost climbing into Gibbs' lap.

God, he was responsive. Gibbs' hands itched with the need to get him into bed, to hold him down and strip him bare and find out what was underneath it all. What was under the designer clothes and the playboy facade, the careless smiles and the arrogant charm. He pulled back, his hands on Tony's face, studying him.

Tony's eyes were dark, his face flushed. His lips were faintly swollen; he licked them absently, probably not even realizing he'd done it. Gibbs took a deep breath, stroking his thumbs over Tony's cheekbones. "Bedroom," he said huskily.

"Right. That way." Tony didn't move.

He couldn't quite hide the laugh as he let go of Tony. "Come on," he said, getting to his feet. "I'm not doing this on the couch."

"Oh. Right." Tony stood, taking a deep breath as he did. "This way."

Gibbs followed Tony to his bedroom, watching as Tony turned on the bedside lamp. "Um. So." Tony swallowed. "What--"

It was too much to resist; Gibbs grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a deep, hard kiss, one hand tangling in his hair, the other firm around the back of his neck. Tony gasped and shuddered, reaching for Gibbs' shoulders as if to balance himself. Gibbs bit Tony's lip, tightening his hold until Tony moaned.

He let Tony go just long enough to breathe before kissing him again, biting his lips, drinking in the sounds he made and the way he squirmed, pressing tightly against Gibbs, his hands clenching in Gibbs' shirt. Tony whimpered, breaking away to gasp for breath. "Gibbs," he whispered, his voice ragged.

Gibbs took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "Strip," he said as evenly as he could. "I want to see you."

Tony swallowed and began unbuttoning his shirt. His hands were trembling, Gibbs noticed absently.

It wasn't long before he stood naked in front of Gibbs, mostly hard, his cheeks flushed and his hands behind his back. Gibbs didn't let his reaction show--but damn.

He raised a hand, skimming his fingers down Tony's cheek, his throat, over his shoulder and down his arm, coaxing Tony's hands to hang loose at his sides. Tony's breath caught when Gibbs traced a line over his wrist; when he looked down at Gibbs' hand he bit his lip, swallowing.

"Sensitive, aren't you?" Gibbs murmured.

"It's--" Tony flushed. "Yeah."

Gibbs nodded. "Do you like being cuffed?" he asked matter-of-factly.

Tony looked sheepish. "Yeah," he admitted, barely above a whisper.

Gibbs nodded again. He had no intention of going anywhere near Tony's limits tonight; they'd figure those out another time. For now-- "On the bed," he said. "On your back."

He was a little amused to see Tony shake his head, as if to clear it, before moving to stretch out on top of the striped comforter.

Briefly, Gibbs considered leaving his clothes on for the moment, but rejected the idea. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it in the same direction as Tony's clothes. Belt, pants, shorts...he took his time, a little amused and a lot gratified by the look in Tony's eyes as he did so. He smiled, crawling onto the bed over Tony, leaning down to kiss him gently. "Tell me what you want," he whispered against Tony's lips. "Tell me what you like."

"I--um--" Tony moistened his lips. "God. Um."

Gibbs kissed his jaw, nipping his throat. "Do you like being fucked, Tony? Do you want me to hold you down, tie you, hurt you? What do you want, Tony? What do you need?"

Tony made a soft, low sound--something between a moan and a whimper. "Yes," he managed, turning his face to the side. "Anything--all of it. God."

Another time. Gibbs promised himself that and kissed Tony again, slow and deep. "You like being fucked, Tony?" he asked again, his voice hoarse. "You want me to fuck you?"

Tony made that same soft sound. "God. Yes." He turned to look at Gibbs again, and his face was flushed but he seemed to have recovered some of his composure.

Good. Gibbs was going to enjoy stripping that away from him.

"Yeah," he said, nipping Tony's throat again. "Yeah. I'll fuck you, Tony. I'll give you what you need."

Underneath him, Tony shivered. "Gibbs..."

Gibbs knelt up, looking down at Tony. Slowly, deliberately, he rested a fingertip on Tony's collarbone, tracing a slow line down his sternum. He spread his hand against Tony's chest, flattening it against Tony's skin. "I know what you want," Gibbs said softly, echoing Tony's words from earlier.

Tony's eyes were wide, pupils dilated. "I think I'm in over my head," he managed, more than a little unevenly.

Slowly, Gibbs smiled, letting the predator surface for a moment. "Oh, you are, Tony," he promised. "You are."

He captured Tony's wrists in his hands, gripping tight, watching the way Tony shuddered and gasped, eyes half-closing automatically. Gibbs pressed Tony's hands into the pillows over his head, running his fingers down Tony's arms as he let go. "Don't move those," he told Tony. "Do you understand?"

Tony managed the barest hint of a nod. "Yes," he breathed.

"Good." Gibbs smiled again, stroking the side of Tony's face. Tony sighed and turned into it, kissing Gibbs' palm.

Gibbs forced the hunger back, ruthlessly shoving it down--for the moment. He could just take what he wanted; he knew Tony would let him. But that wasn't how he wanted to start this. So he leaned down, kissing Tony slowly, softly, running his hands down Tony's arms, over his chest. He brushed his thumbs over Tony's nipples, flicking them; Tony shuddered in response. Out of curiosity, Gibbs scraped a nail over one, pleased at the strangled yelp and the way Tony twisted and arched into it.

He moved back a little so he could bend his head, dragging his tongue over the abused nipple, soothing and teasing it. Tony sighed and murmured--and Gibbs bit down.

"Jesus Christ!" Tony twisted up, panting. "Fuck, Gibbs--"

"Too much?" Gibbs asked, making it a challenge.

Tony shook his head and fell back against the bed. "N-no. I just--I wasn't expecting that."

Gibbs brushed a fingertip over the other nipple, watching it harden under his touch. "Don't expect anything, Tony," he said softly, evenly. "You should know better."

"Um. Yeah." Tony blew out a breath, squirming a little as Gibbs circled his nipple with a finger, slowly, almost carelessly. "Gibbs," he said, not-quite whining. "C'mon, Gibbs..."

Gibbs pinched his nipple, twisting it hard; Tony gasped and his head fell back. "I'll touch you how I want, when I want," Gibbs told him, his voice low. "Understand, Tony? This is what you wanted, wasn't it? To be mine, to let me have you however and wherever I feel like?"

Tony whimpered.

"If I want to keep you on edge all night, I will," Gibbs said, letting a little of the hunger seep into his voice. "If I want to play with you, just like this, I will. You wanted to be mine. This is what that means, Tony. Still sure it's what you want?"

"God," Tony whispered. He swallowed, licking his lips. "Like I'm going to say no."

Gibbs braced his hands on either side of Tony, lowering his head and kissing Tony hard. Tony groaned into his mouth, yielding easily, eagerly, and when Gibbs pulled back Tony tried to follow him.

Not just yet. He'd indulge Tony later. Gibbs smiled at the thought, sliding down Tony's body, teasing each nipple with his mouth, lips and tongue and the faintest hint of teeth. Down more, scraping his teeth over Tony's skin, playing his fingers over Tony's ribs and feeling him twist, almost-but-not-quite laughing. "Ticklish?" he asked, raising his head.

Tony looked embarrassed. "A little," he admitted.

That would be fun to play with. Later. Gibbs filed it away for future reference and rested his hands on Tony's thighs, spreading his legs. He rubbed his thumbs over the line between hip and groin, pleased when Tony shivered.

Gibbs pushed himself up, looking down at Tony. Flushed, skin sheened with sweat, his cock hard against his stomach, heavy and full--Gibbs shook his head inwardly. Damn.

He wrapped his hand around Tony's cock, rubbing his thumb over the sweet spot. And slowly, keeping his eyes on Tony's face, he lowered his head, taking the head of Tony's cock into his mouth.

Tony gasped and Gibbs felt him tense, trying not to arch up into it. Gibbs licked the head, tasting bitter salt; Tony moaned and turned his face into his arm. "Gibbs," Tony whispered. "Gibbs, please..."

There it was. That was what he'd been waiting for. Gibbs licked the head of Tony's cock one more time and knelt up. "Where are your supplies?" he asked.

Tony made an abortive reach for his nightstand before flushing and lying back against the pillows. "Top drawer," he said.

"Good." Gibbs stroked a hand over Tony's chest. "Next time I'll cuff you," he said as he reached for the drawer. "So you don't have to worry about staying still."

He didn't miss the way Tony's breath stuttered, or the way his cock twitched.

"Like that, do you?" Gibbs smiled and opened the lube, slicking his fingers. "Good. I do too." He reached down, circling Tony's hole with a finger, barely pressing in. "When was the last time you were fucked, Tony?"

"Um--" Tony licked his lips. "Not--last year."

"You like toys, Tony?" Gibbs pressed his finger in, just the tip. "Do you use those?"

Tony turned even redder, managing a jerky nod. "S-sometimes."

One more thing to play with later. Gibbs pushed his finger in a little more, a little at a time, until Tony was panting for breath and his body was hot and tight around Gibbs' finger and his hands were clenched in the sheets over his head. He was tight, almost painfully so; Gibbs took his time stretching him out with one finger, teasing him until Tony relaxed enough that Gibbs could press another finger into him, twisting and scissoring them, coaxing his body open.

"Okay," Tony said breathlessly. "I'm okay."

Gibbs nodded and pulled his fingers out, grabbing a tissue to wipe them off before opening the condom packet and rolling on the condom. He had to grip the base of his cock to steady himself before positioning himself.

Tony's eyes were wide open, watching him; even as Gibbs slid into his body Tony didn't look away, although he inhaled sharply, holding his breath. "Tony," Gibbs said, barely managing to keep his own eyes open. "Breathe."

Air rushed out of Tony's lungs in a whoosh. "God," he managed. "Gibbs..."

Gibbs kissed him, hard and fast. "Ask me for it," he whispered.

Tony whimpered. "Please..."

He'd never imagined wanting to hear a word that badly before. Gibbs kissed him again, biting his lip, and began to move.

He honestly had no idea which was hotter--Tony's body or the way Tony whimpered and squirmed under him, arching up, begging with every line of his body. Tony's eyes had fallen closed and he'd turned his head away again, biting his lip, and if Gibbs ever let him out of bed again it was going to be a miracle.

Everything began to blur together, heat and sweat-slick skin and the velvet vise of Tony's body, his soft moans and the groans Gibbs couldn't hold back. He felt Tony trembling, knew he was close, and somehow managed to reach down with one hand to twist around Tony's cock. "Come for me," he said, voice low and rough. "C'mon, Tony, come for me."

Tony gasped out a curse and came, spilling wet heat all over Gibbs' fingers. He barely had time to pull his hand away before he thrust one last time into Tony's body and surrendered to his own orgasm.

He didn't want to move. It felt too good where he was. But he didn't want to lose the condom and he had a feeling Tony was going to get uncomfortable soon, so he pulled out carefully and got rid of the condom. Tissues were enough to clean them both off for now and then he lay down next to Tony, pulling him close.

"Mmmf." Tony sighed and curled closer, resting his head on Gibbs' shoulder.

Gibbs smiled and tipped his chin up, kissing him lazily. Tony made a soft hum of pleasure, kissing him back, tangling tongues until they parted slowly. "You okay?" Gibbs asked.

"Mmm." Tony nodded. "I'll be sore for a couple days. No big deal."

Probably not, but Gibbs figured he'd check later, make sure. He stroked a finger down Tony's face and his arm, once again circling his wrist--and as before, Tony shuddered. "Trigger spot?" Gibbs asked curiously.

Tony nodded. "That, and my hair." He flushed.

Gibbs smiled and ran a hand into Tony's hair. "Like this?" he asked, tightening his grip, pulling Tony's head back.

"Oh God," Tony whispered, closing his eyes. "Please..."

Even now, even right after sex, he responded. Gibbs wasn't sure what he'd done in a previous life to deserve this, but he wasn't letting go now.

Not now that Tony had forced him into taking it. Gibbs let go of Tony's hair slowly, smoothing it down, caressing the back of his neck. A thought occurred to him and he laughed. "Hungry?" he asked.

Tony blinked, clearly swimming up from headspace. "Uh--yeah, actually," he admitted.

"Me too. C'mon." Gibbs smacked Tony's flank lightly. "Let's go eat some of that Chinese."

"Right." Tony pushed himself up, rubbing a hand over his face. "Um. Whoa." He shook his head. "This..." He smiled wryly. "Christ, Gibbs."

Gibbs sat up as well. "I told you, Tony. I don't want romance." He let the predator slip into his voice, just enough to make Tony shiver and his eyes drop. "This was just the beginning."

Tony shivered. "And I told you, Gibbs. All you ever had to do was ask." He slid out of bed, pulling on his jeans. Gibbs watched him rake his hands through his hair before turning back.

Jesus, but he still had no idea. Even after this, he still had no idea. Gibbs shook his head and got up, pulling on his own pants.

Only...Gibbs couldn't forget the certainty in Tony's eyes, the sureness in his voice.

Maybe he did. Maybe...

"Hey," Tony said, interrupting Gibbs' thoughts.

"What?"

Tony walked over to him and kissed him, slow and deliberate. "Don't start thinking I don't know what I want, Gibbs. And don't start thinking it'd be better for both of us if this never happened. It did, we're not going to say it didn't, and we're not going to stop now. You want me, Gibbs. You want everything from me." Tony looked at Gibbs, and that dammable certainty was in his eyes again. "And I'm telling you--again--that it's yours."

Gibbs closed his eyes. "Why?" he asked finally, looking at Tony again.

"If you have to ask, you're not looking hard enough." Tony shrugged. "Or maybe you just don't want to know."

Or maybe he was just in over his head. Gibbs smiled wryly. "Food," he said. "C'mon."

Tony laughed. "Food."

The Chinese had gone lukewarm but they ate it anyway, trading cartons and little containers of duck sauce and rice. Tony sighed in contentment when it was gone, sprawling across his couch. "Happiness is a man with a full stomach who's just gotten laid," he said cheerfully.

Gibbs snorted and picked up his warm beer. "Next time, let's try and eat before the food gets cold."

"Mmm. You spending the night?" Tony asked.

There was more there than a casual question, and Gibbs knew it. His rational brain was telling him it would be crazy, reckless--and the rest of him frankly didn't care. "Yeah," he said, taking a swig of beer. "I am."

Tony nodded. "Okay." He folded his hands behind his head, and the smile that stole across his face was one Gibbs had never seen before and one he wanted to see again. Often.

Gibbs took another pull on his beer. He didn't trust the word 'happiness'. But something...

Maybe there could be something here.

Tony laughed. "If I'd thought that a concussion would get me here, I'd have gotten knocked on the head more often," he said, eyes sparkling.

"You get knocked on the head enough, Tony." Gibbs snorted. "And what got you here was your damn stubbornness."

"It's why you hired me, isn't it?" Tony grinned. "Admit it, Gibbs. You're glad I pushed it. Because without me, you'd still be sitting in your denial, watching my ass and--" He shut up with a muffled squawk when Gibbs leaned over him and shut him up the most effective way possible.

Gibbs pulled back, reaching for his beer. "If only that worked in the bullpen," he said, a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

"A man can dream." Tony laughed. "If you only knew the sheer number of fantasies I've had about you, Gibbs..."

Gibbs smiled slowly. "I'm sure you'll tell me," he said softly. "Just as I'm sure we'll go through them." He encircled Tony's wrist with his fingers, holding him loosely. "Won't we?"

Tony shuddered. "Y-yeah," he managed. "Sure. If you want."

Oh, he did. Gibbs smiled. This...was going to be fun.