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Title: Sleeping to Dream
Rating: NC-17
Summary: If this was anyone else, any other situation, Gibbs would
never do this.
Gibbs likes it best when it's this time of night--two, three, even
four, when it's not quite too early and not quite too late and
everything is hushed and dark. He likes being awake at this time, likes
it when he can watch the night outside his window or work on his boat
in the silent house, when it's just him and the dark world around him.
It's three-seventeen in the morning and he's sitting in his bed,
looking out the window at the cloudy night sky. It's windy and he hears
the branches rattle against the window, leaves rustling in the breeze.
There's a cold cup of coffee next to him, which he ignores. Cold coffee
is better than no coffee, but he's not in the mood for either right
now.
What he *is* in the mood for is lying next to him, sound asleep and
sprawled out over about two-thirds of the bed. Long limbs, dark hair,
the relaxed, peaceful features of someone sleeping the sleep of the
innocent.
Or something, given that Tony's about as far from innocent as Gibbs is
from eighteen.
Gibbs smiles wryly and settles back down in bed, curling up behind Tony
and sliding an arm around his waist. Tony sighs in his sleep, pressing
back against Gibbs. His head falls forward and Gibbs kisses the nape of
his neck, breathing in the scent of Tony's skin.
He rests his forehead against Tony's shoulder, shifting them both so
his cock nestles against Tony's ass. He's already half-hard and just
the feel of Tony's body against his own is enough to get him fully
erect in seconds. He kisses Tony's throat, breath whispering over
sleep-warmed skin, and hears Tony mumur something unconsciously.
If this was anyone else, any other situation, Gibbs would never do
this. It's too close to too many things he despises. He doesn't take
advantage of his partners; he's never needed to. And he thinks people
who do are as low on the food chain as out-and-out rapists. Dubious
consent is no consent, full stop.
So naturally, the first time Tony admitted he had this fantasy of being
woken up by Gibbs making love to him, Gibbs said no. Just no. He
wouldn't do that. Wouldn't take advantage of Tony, no matter how much
he wanted to let his hands run over Tony's body, watch him respond and
sigh and make those beautiful soft sounds in the back of his throat. He
wasn't going to do that.
Until he'd found himself lying next to Tony, watching him sleep, and
his fingers had traced their way down the line of Tony's throat and his
chest, tracing patterns over his skin, and Tony's legs had fallen apart
and his head had dropped back and he'd moaned in his sleep.
Gibbs still remembers the way Tony had looked in that moment, flushed
and lax against the bed, his cock half-hard and his head turned to the
side.
Tony had woken up at some point, although Gibbs still isn't sure when.
He just remembers that one moment Tony had been asleep and the next
he'd heard a sleep-roughened voice telling him to get up there and kiss
him.
"You're not taking advantage of me," Tony had said, later, when they
lay in bed listening to the rain fall. "You couldn't."
"Tony--" Gibbs had tried to say something, but Tony put his fingers
over Gibbs' lips.
"You're not. I want this, Gibbs. You're not taking advantage of me."
Tony had looked a little sheepish. "I can't tell you why I want this.
But I swear you're not doing anything to me I don't want." He'd
shrugged a little. "I don't think you could."
Gibbs remembers that now, when he's got Tony in his arms and it's dark
outside and all he wants to do is make love to him. He kisses Tony's
shoulder, runs his hand down Tony's stomach, his fingers trailing over
Tony's cock. Tony murmurs in his sleep, his cock hardening under Gibbs'
gentle touch.
Getting the lube is a bit of an effort and Tony makes a small noise of
protest when Gibbs shifts away from him long enough to grab it. Gibbs
kisses his shoulder, runs his hand down Tony's arm, and Tony subsides
with a soft sound.
He nudges Tony's thighs apart, pushing one leg up to make it easier for
them both. Tony's limp and relaxed and there's almost no resistance
when Gibbs slicks his cock and pushes into him, sheathing himself in
velvet heat.
Tony's cock has softened a little, but when Gibbs wraps his hand around
it it hardens again quickly, twitching in Gibbs' hold. Gibbs kisses
Tony's shoulder and begins to move, gentle shallow thrusts that make
his eyes close with pleasure.
He knows the instant Tony wakes up--there's a gasp, a groan, and Tony
clenches around him instinctively. Gibbs doesn't stop moving and Tony
groans again, head dropping forward. "Oh ffffuck," he groans, pushing
back against Gibbs. "God."
His voice is rough and husky with sleep and his body's still
loose-limbed and pliant under Gibbs' couch and Gibbs is beginning to
see the appeal of this type of alarm clock. He's still got an
incoherent, raspy-voiced Tony next to him--only this one is hot and
tight around his cock and his back is warm against Gibbs' chest and
he's grunting with pleasure, not annoyance.
Gibbs shifts a little behind him, angling his thrusts differently,
searching for the sweet spot. On his fourth stroke he gets it right and
Tony moans, long and low. "Fuck," he groans again. "Oh, Christ,
Gibbs..."
He closes his eyes, his forehead resting against Tony's shoulder. Every
pull on his cock makes Tony shudder now; every time Gibbs moves Tony
groans in desperation. He's twisting helplessly between Gibbs' cock and
his hand and Gibbs doesn't think he's ever seen Tony this wanton
before.
Gibbs licks the tendon in his throat, bites down just behind his ear.
Tony gasps and shivers and his head falls to the side. He's trembling
now, his arm flung out across the sheets. Gibbs knows he's close--he
rubs his thumb over the head of Tony's cock, jerking him just that much
harder as he thrusts into Tony's body.
Tony arches back, his mouth open in a silent cry as he comes, warmth
spilling over his stomach and Gibbs' hand. He's still panting for
breath when Gibbs lets go of the last remnants of his self-control and
comes with a groan.
Gibbs pulls out of him carefully and Tony grabs the tissues to clean
them off. He throws them in the general direction of the wastebasket
and rolls over into Gibbs' arms, cuddling close. Gibbs presses a kiss
to Tony's forehead and strokes his back, resting his cheek against
Tony's hair.
Tony kisses his collarbone, his lips warm. "Thank you," he murmurs,
already drifting back into sleep.
Outside, clouds are chasing each other around the sky and the black of
the night is slowly giving way to darker blue. Gibbs breathes in the
scent and feel of Tony's body, warm skin and muscle against his own,
and spares one quick look out the window before closing his eyes and
letting sleep wrap around him.
He likes it best when it's this time of night. He always has. |
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