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Title: Razor Dance
Rating: R
Summary: Tell me the truth for once.
Notes: Title taken from a song by Richard Thompson.
Gibbs didn't need to open an eye to know what time it was. It had to be
around four--Tony never stayed longer than that, even on days when they
supposedly didn't have to work the next morning, Some nights he didn't
even stay that long. He just got up, pulled his clothes on, and left in
silence so thick Gibbs could taste the shame.
It was obvious to him that Tony didn't want this, but he did. It was
that dichotomy that made him fall into bed with Gibbs time and time
again, hungry for Gibbs' touch, his mouth, anything and
everything...until it was over and he had time to think again and lie
there, self-loathing growing inside him until he fled. Gibbs understood
it; he didn't like it. And he was getting tired of the way Tony
couldn't even look him in the eye half the time.
But it was four in the morning now and he didn't really feel like
provoking a conflict--this time. So he kept his eyes closed and his
breathing even and pretended not to notice when Tony left the bed,
shoeless feet moving silently on the floors.
Once he was gone, Gibbs got up with a silent sigh and went to make
himself some coffee. Wood, at least, didn't lie.
Work the next day would have been hell had they not caught a case. It
was rough, it was draining, and by the time they wrapped up the loose
ends and went home Gibbs wanted nothing more than to shower and go to
bed.
He got the shower, but when he stepped out of the bathroom with his
towel around his hips, Tony was sitting on the edge of his bed, hands
hanging between his knees. "Hi," he said quietly.
"Hi." Gibbs pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of boxers, hanging up his
towel. He closed his eyes for a moment, facing away from Tony. He just
wasn't up for this tonight--he was physically tired and emotionally
worn from the case, and if Tony pushed it...
Warm hands slid up his back to his shoulders and he felt Tony's body at
his back. "Bed?" Tony murmured in his ear.
Gibbs bowed his head. God, he wanted it. But--"No," he said, his voice
rough. "No."
Tony stepped away from him; Gibbs turned around and saw surprise on his
face. "I won't do this anymore," he said, fighting down anger. "You
figure out what you want and then talk to me."
"I thought this was what you wanted," Tony said a little unevenly.
"What I want is for you not to leave at four in the morning because
you're ashamed. If you want to leave because you can't sleep here,
fine. If you want to leave because you want to get some clothes before
work, fine. But I'm too damned tired of you sneaking out in the middle
of the night because you can't look at me." Gibbs ran a hand over his
face. "It's not worth it."
Tony nodded slowly. "Fine." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his
jeans. "Whatever."
And he probably should have left it at that. He should have just let
Tony walk out, end it all, just like that. But he saw a flash of
something in Tony's eyes and his control just snapped.
"Damnit, Tony, what do you *want*?" he asked in frustration. "What the
*fuck* do you want here?"
Tony just shook his head and turned to go. "Doesn't matter," he said
tonelessly. "You want me gone, don't you? Fine. I'm gone."
"I didn't say that."
"You might as well have." Tony shrugged. "Don't worry. I won't say
anything."
Gibbs counted to ten, slowly. It didn't help. "If you were going to say
anything," he said evenly, "you'd have done it by now. Christ,
Tony--which one of us do you hate more?"
That struck a nerve; Tony flinched, hunching his shoulders a little.
"Doesn't matter," he said again.
"It does to me." Gibbs looked at him, beginning to wonder how much of
the whole mess was shame and how much was fear. "Is it so hard for you
to think that I might want this?" he asked slowly.
Tony hunched a little more, looking down at the floor. "I'll see you at
work tomorrow," he muttered.
He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if Tony walked out the door he
wouldn't come back. And that just...wasn't something Gibbs wanted to
happen. Not like this. "Wait," he said roughly. "Just--wait."
"What?" Tony asked, but he didn't move.
Gibbs shook his head. "What are you so scared of? That you might
actually want this once you let yourself?"
"You don't know anything about what I want," Tony snapped, turning
around again. "You don't know one damned thing about it!"
"Liar." Gibbs crossed to him, slowly. "I know you want this. I know you
want *me*. You can't stay away--that's why you're here, isn't it? What
I don't know is why you're so fucking ashamed of it."
"I'm not--" Tony swallowed hard. "I'm not."
"Then for Christ's sake, Tony--tell me!" Gibbs fought back the
exasperation in his voice. "Tell me," he said again, a little more
calmly.
Tony pressed his lips together in a thin line. He crossed his arms over
his chest tightly, looking everywhere but at Gibbs.
"Tony--" Gibbs stopped himself before he reached out. "Talk to me."
"Yeah, because you're *so* fucking good at that?" Tony retorted. "Way I
remember it, first time we fell into bed you told me we couldn't talk
about it."
"I told you we couldn't let anyone find out," Gibbs said evenly. "Not
the same thing. I'm trying to protect your career here, Tony."
"What do you want me to say, Gibbs? That I want you? Yeah. No surprise
there. What more do you want from me?" Tony demanded. "What more do you
*want*?"
He'd been wrong. It wasn't shame that drove Tony from his bed night
after night. It wasn't shame that kept them from ever meeting at Tony's
place. It was fear.
"I want you to stop running," Gibbs said quietly.
He knew he'd gotten it right when Tony shuddered all over, looking like
someone had just sucker-punched him. "Fuck this," Tony said, shaking
his head. "Forget it."
"No." Gibbs didn't know what he was going to do until Tony moved to
leave and Gibbs grabbed his arm and they went down on the bed in a
heap. "No. You're not running this time."
"Let me *go*!" Tony yanked his arm free--or tried, at any rate. Gibbs
moved with him, rolling him over and pinning him more securely by the
simple method of lying on him. "Bastard, let me *go*!"
"Stop fucking running," Gibbs said in a low voice. "Stop running for
once. This what happen at your other jobs? Someone got too close?
Something got under your skin? Couldn't take it, could you? Scared you
too much, so you ran, again and again and again." He shifted his grip,
tightening his hold on Tony's wrists. "Not this time, Tony."
"You don't know a fucking thing about it." Tony bucked under him,
trying to throw him off. "You don't--fuck, Gibbs, let me *go*! You
don't want me here any more than I want to *be* here, so what the hell
is this going to prove?"
"You want this," Gibbs said, his voice low. "You want it so badly it
hurts." He ground his hips into Tony's, feeling Tony's erection against
his own. "But you can't admit it, can you? So much easier to keep
running. Just fall into my bed, get your rocks off, and then get out
before you might have to admit something you don't want to. This how
you treat those women you're always dating? You do this to them?"
Tony was trembling under him, struggling more from instinct than any
real panic. "Get off me," he whispered.
"C'mon, Tony. Just tell me you want this. Tell me the truth for once."
"You don't want to know it," Tony said bitterly, shaking his head. "Let
me *go*, GIbbs--"
"Not until you tell me why you're so fucking scared!"
Tony let out a sound that was half a scream, half a growl, and one
hundred percent frustration. "What happens when this isn't what you
want anymore?" he demanded. "What happens when I'm not enough for you,
or you get tired of me, or--or--" he shook his head. "What do I do
then, Gibbs? What do I do when you tell me that you're sorry but it
just isn't working out? Do I keep working for you like nothing's
changed? Do I smile and nod and just pretend that nothing happened
between us?"
"You say it like it's a foregone conclusion," Gibbs said quietly.
"Isn't it?" Tony laughed bitterly. "You're not exactly a prime example
of how to hold on to a relationship and God knows my social life
wouldn't lead *anyone* to think I can hold down a relationship for
longer than a week. Certainly you don't." He shook his head again. "Sex
I can deal with. You want more than that, get a dog."
It took an effort to keep from reacting visibly to Tony's words. They
cut too close to the bone. "You want a promise that I won't leave?" he
asked instead.
"You can't make that and we both know it. I want you to let me go,
Gibbs. Let me just walk out of here and pretend that nothing's happened
and we're fine." Tony swallowed. "Let me hold on to what little pride
I've got left, Gibbs."
Gibbs looked at him for a long moment before rolling off him and onto
his back, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm not stopping you," he said
dully. "You want to go? Go." He turned his head to look at Tony. "I
can't promise you forever, Tony. And I can't promise you a happy
ending. But if you can meet me halfway--if you're willing to do
that--I'll do my best to make it worth it for you."
Tony snorted. "Coming from you, that's practically a declaration of
love."
Maybe it was. Gibbs wasn't sure. He just shrugged, linking his hands
behind his head. "It's up to you," he said, looking back up at the
ceiling. "It always has been."
He felt the bed shift and looked over; Tony had pushed himself up and
wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin on his knees.
"Bastard," he said without heat.
"Yeah. So?"
Tony sighed and dropped his forehead to his knees. "I don't want to
go," he said, voice muffled. "You know that."
Gibbs sat up, facing Tony. "Then don't."
"It's not that easy."
"Why not?"
"It--" Tony shook his head. "Weren't you listening to a word I said
before?"
"Sometimes you just have to go with your gut, Tony. What's that telling
you?" Gibbs asked quietly.
Tony looked up at him and swallowed, once. "Halfway," he said, so
softly Gibbs barely heard him. "Right?"
Gibbs nodded. "All I can promise, Tony. It's up to you whether it's
enough."
Tony looked down at his knees. "It's more than I've gotten--" He
stopped, as if realizing he'd said more than he'd meant. "Oh, fuck,
Gibbs," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know if it's enough, and I
don't know what'll happen if it isn't, and I just can't care about that
anymore." He smiled a little and looked up, eyes bright. "You win," he
said wryly.
"This wasn't a game."
"Everything's a game, Gibbs. Only thing that changes are the stakes."
That was a thought for another time. But for now, Gibbs just shrugged
and held out his hand. "Come to bed," he said, not-quite asking.
Tony sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Okay." He stood up, stretching a bit,
and stripped down to his shorts before crawling back into bed next to
Gibbs. "Do we have to work tomorrow?" he asked, punching the pillow.
"It's Saturday. No work unless we get a call."
"Thank God," Tony mumbled. "I think I could sleep for an entire day."
He stretched again, turning onto his side to look at Gibbs. "I promise
I won't leave at four," he said around a yawn.
Gibbs just nodded and reached out an arm, pulling him close. "I'm not
letting you, this time," he said simply. |
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