Secrets, Regrets And Surprises

By

Gunnery Sergeant

Afghanistan, Nimruz Province

Anthony DiNozzo shivered, as the cold wind blowing down from the mountains hit him as a blast of chilly air coming out from an open freezer. He wrapped the old blanket his captors had given him around his shoulders, but there was only so much it could do to keep him warm.

Looking through the bars of the low wooden cage imprisoning him, he stared longingly at the fires burning at the other end of the camp…and then beyond them, at the road departing from the marauders' settlement.

At freedom.

Tony shivered again, this time not just because of the cold wind and the setting sun. After ten days of captivity, he was starting to lose his hopes. He knew the chances he would be freed were very scarce. The US government didn't pay ransoms, especially when the money could end up in terrorists' pockets, and he doubted they would risk another military action to rescue him after the failure of the first.

Something blocked his view of the camp, and Tony noticed that two of the horses that roamed free in the area had stepped near the cage. One of them, a thin bay with a coarse, dirty coat was nibbling at a few tuff of grass, while the other, a light grey with a darker mane, was standing with its head held high and looking around. Tony wasn't an expert in horseflesh, but he thought that beast was beautiful, so different from its companion and the other emaciated animals he had seen around the camp. It was muscled, well-fed and in great shape, despite several marks on its chest and ribs. Maybe they were the memento of a fight for the possession of a female, because Tony could see it was a stallion.

The two horses walked away, and Tony followed them with his gaze until they disappeared behind a rock formation on his left. He felt a pang of longing and envy at their freedom and gave a savage, enraged kick at the bars imprisoning him. But in truth his rage wasn't directed to the horses. It wasn't even directed to his captors.

It was directed to himself. To his stupidity and arrogance. It was all his fault that he had ended in this predicament.

The mission had seemed easy enough back in Washington. A Marine corporal had been killed near the Delaram Forward Operation Base and while his CO's report claimed the Taliban was responsible, an anonymous email sent to the victim's family claimed the young man had been killed by friendly fire.

The corporal's father had thus contacted the SECNAV and insisted for an investigation, threatening to go to the press if it light wasn't shed on his son's death. The SECNAV had in turn contacted Vance, who had started looking for a volunteer to send to Afghanistan.

Tony had offered himself, and since there hadn't exactly been a line of people willing to travel to a war zone, he had been put on the first C-130 leaving from Andrews.

The cargo plane had landed in Kandahar, where he had boarded a smaller plane to Zaranj, the capital of the Nimruz province, and the closest airport to the Delaram Marine FOB. Everything had gone smoothly up to the time he had been ambushed during his car trip from the airport to the base. His driver and Marine escort had been killed and he had been taken away, and rushed toward the mountains that towered in the north-west of the province.

Those mountains were a labyrinth of cliffs and ravines, and a natural fortress, making it impossible for troops to approach them without being spotted and being attacked when still on plain terrain and without cover. Just as it had happened six days before, when a Marine commando had tried to approach them. Tony had no idea of how many Americans had lost their lives or had been wounded in that attempt to rescue him, but from the jubilant cries of his captors, he was aware the battle hadn't ended well for the Marines.

This was why Tony knew it was unlikely there would be another attempt to free him. What CO would send his men in a basically suicide mission to save a lowly NCIS agent?

The future looked gloomy for Tony, because as soon as his captors realized the USA wasn't going to pay to get him back, he would cease to have any value for them and God only knew what would happen to him.

And it was just his fault.

As soon as Vance had started looking for a volunteer, Gibbs had ordered to his team not to step up, but Tony, in an impetus of rage and rebellion, had gone over his boss' head and done just what he had been told not to do. He had been furious with Gibbs who, after demonstrating he didn't trust Tony in private life, now doubted him in is professional capacity too.

Now, his anger long gone, Tony knew it hadn't been a matter of trust or lack of it. Gibbs had just been worried about his safety. In the last months there had been a recrudescence of Taliban activities in that area, and only a few days before two Italian soldiers had been killed near Delaram.

"You were right, Boss," Tony murmured aloud, "and I was wrong."

He had wanted to hurt his lover as Gibbs had hurt him, and now he was paying the price of his stupidity.

Tony shivered again, and a lump constricted his throat as he thought of Gibbs. They had been so happy and content with what they had. Then everything had crumbled down and he still had to understand why things had gone so wrong and so quickly.

Unbidden, his mind returned to the day everything had started, to the day he had thought Fate had decided to grant him his greatest and most secretive wish…

Tony parked his car at the beginning of the 500 block of East Laurel Street, and stepped out of it, taking the six pack of beer from the passenger seat. Gibbs had invited him for one of his delicious cowboy-style dinners, and Tony had been more than eager to accept the invitation.

He liked to spend time with his boss out of work. Gibbs had a very quirky sense of humor and was good company even when he spent most the evening in silence or answering with monosyllables. Tony liked how Gibbs knew his real self, the one the younger man hid most of the time behind his clown mask, and how it allowed him to fully relax when he was in company of his boss.

As he walked toward Gibbs' house, enjoying a quiet stroll, Tony thought the only thing he would like more was to discover his boss too was interested in more than friendship with him. He had known since his college days he swung both ways, and he had been attracted to Gibbs from the first moment he had seen the older man charge inside the Baltimore PD precinct as if he owned the place.

In time the attraction had turned in something that went beyond the physical as care, respect, admiration, trust and mutual liking had been thrown in the mix.

Some days, his longing was so strong that Tony found himself seriously considering making a pass at Gibbs, but he never acted on it. Gibbs was as hetero as they came and Tony didn't want to jeopardize their friendship and working relationship. So he made do with cheap substitutes, both males and females, he picked up in clubs and treasured every bit of gruff affection the older man bestowed on him.

When Tony reached Gibbs' house, he discovered he was thirty minutes early, but he thought his boss wouldn't mind it. So he opened the unlocked door and stepped into the house. He walked straight to the living room, surprised to see that the bindings of big window behind the old but comfy couch were closed. They had always been open during all his previous visits and Tony found it curious. He put the beer on the low coffee table in front of the couch and was about to call Gibbs' name when he heard a soft noise come from the kitchen.

He turned around with a greeting on his lips, but his voice died in a strangled gasp at the sight welcoming him.

Gibbs was standing on the threshold of the kitchen, completely and utterly naked. There was a shocked expression on his face— one mirroring Tony's.

The younger man was frozen on the spot. He knew he should turn around and give some privacy to the man, but he wasn't able to tear his eyes away from the body he wanted to see for so long.

So while a minuscule part of his brain wondered what the hell Gibbs had been doing stark naked in his kitchen, the other part was busy roaming the older man's body, examining every detail and storing it in his memory.

Gibbs was magnificent, all fair skin and lean muscles, powerful and yet graceful. He had broad shoulders, a strong chest covered by silver hair and a stomach that even if had softened a bit with age, was still in much better shape than those belonging to most of the younger men Tony had slept with.

Then the younger man's gaze moved down, to that part of Gibbs' anatomy he had thought he would never see and his eyes widened when he saw it twitch once, then twice, as it lengthened and hardened.

Tony's mouth fell open in shock. It wasn't possible. It wasn't possible Gibbs could be getting aroused while the younger man was devouring him with his eyes. But he was. He was. Gibbs' cock was now completely erect and jutting out proudly from its nest of wiry curls.

Tony raised his head and looked at his boss' face, gulping hard at the intent look he saw in those blue eyes. There was no shame in them, no embarrassment, just a look the younger man couldn't decipher.

Tony shifted his weight and a soft, surprised 'oh!' escaped his lips as he realized how hard his own cock was. Taken as he had been by Gibbs' body, he hadn't realized he had reacted exactly as the older man had done, he too betraying his interest.

Suddenly the look in Gibbs' eyes became clear.

Tony nodded and took a step forward, removing his suit jacket as he walked. Gibbs moved too and they met in the middle of the living room. They stopped close to each other, so close that Tony could feel the warmth of Gibbs' breath on his face and they exchanged a look that said more than a hundred words.

"You sure?" Gibbs asked after a long moment, his voice rough and low.

"Yes," Tony answered. He had never been surer of anything in his life.

"Then come." Gibbs led the way upstairs, and Tony followed him, staring at his bare back and ass. His mind was reeling with lust and incredulity. He could hardly believe Gibbs was as interested in him as Tony was in the older man, but the proof was there, bobbing with each step the older man took and the younger man ceased to question it.

Once inside Gibbs' bedroom, the older man turned around and backed Tony against the wall. He moved closer, so close they lips were almost touching and their breath mingled. Tony was enveloped by Gibbs' scent, a mix of clean sweat, aftershave, coffee, sawdust and lust that made his head spin and his cock throb with renewed need. So he moved in, his arms rising to surround Gibbs' strong back and pull him in for the kiss he had longed for so long.

The older man responded to the kiss almost instantly, opening his lips as his own arms tightened around Tony's back.

Tony moaned aloud at the feel of Gibbs' tongue invading his mouth and taking control of it. When the lack of oxygen forced them to separate, the younger man dropped his head and peppered kisses against Gibbs' neck, as the older man's hands ghosted along his sides, tracing patterns that made Tony shiver.

As Tony began to move his lips along Gibbs' throat up to his jaw, briefly nuzzling the underside before moving his lips to the smooth flesh above, the older man twisted his head, initiating a second kiss, as passionate as the first one.

"Are you really sure about this?" Gibbs asked again, cupping Tony's face between his palms. "This is the last chance to stop, DiNozzo."

Tony didn't hesitate a second before nodding his head. "I'm sure."

Gibbs grinned then, and in that moment looked younger than Tony could ever remember. In that moment all of his cares seemed to have faded away leaving him completely tension-free for the first time Tony could ever recall—and he felt inordinately happy because he was the one who was making Gibbs feel like that.

Taking a step back, Tony held Gibbs' gaze as he stripped off his shirt, trousers and the rest of his clothes, until they were both naked.

They moved to the bed and knelt on the mattress, facing each other as they explored one another's bodies with their fingertips, lips and tongues. Every so often their bodies would brush, causing both to shiver.

Gibbs lifted his right hand to cup Tony's cheek, drawing the younger man's lips towards his own, as his left hand moved to grip his lover's hip, his thumb lightly stroking the ridge where hip met torso. Tony groaned and shifted his legs and they both gasped when their erections brushed together.

Very slowly, the older man's left hand followed the line of Tony's hip to his groin, cupping his balls briefly before gliding his palm over the heated shaft. He slid his hand up and down a few times before closing his fingers around its girth.

The younger man muttered something unintelligible that made Gibbs grin in smug satisfaction, before his mouth went slack when Tony's hand wrapped around his cock and stroked it firmly.

Then Tony leaned back onto the mattress, his firm hold of Gibbs' cock obliging the older man to follow his move, and to settle between Tony's spread legs.

Tony removed his hand, so that they could trust one against the other, their bodies arching and rocking languidly as they shared hot, needy kisses. Then, when it became clear that good as the friction was, it was not quite enough, and Tony wiggled his hand between their bodies once again, wrapping his fingers around both their shafts, so that when they thrust they filled the same tight place. Until Gibbs' hips slipped back a bit too far and when he pushed forward, the tip of his cock followed the curve of Tony's balls down to that sensitive patch of skin before his hole.

Tony cried out at the unexpected touch, his body stiffening as surge of pre-come spilled from his cockhead.

"Please, Jethro..." he moaned, his thighs falling open further in blatant invitation. He usually didn't go for the 'main course' the first time he slept with a guy, but this wasn't some stranger he had picked up in a club. This was Gibbs, whom he trusted with his life and had wanted for years, and he didn't wish to waste this opportunity, especially if it turned out this was a one-time only thing.

Gibbs nodded and stretching his arm, he opened his bedside table drawer and took out a condom and a tube of some kind of lotion.

Tony spread his legs wider as Gibbs knelt between them and poured some lotion on his fingers. Then he moved his hand and one of said slick fingers began to toy with the outer edges of Tony's opening. Tony glared at him and thrust his hips, making clear that the older man had to stop playing with him and get down to serious stuff. Which Gibbs did, very slowly and very thoroughly, stretching Tony with first one then two and finally three fingers until the younger man was whimpering and panting with need.

Finally, when Tony thought he couldn't resist a moment more, Gibbs removed his fingers, put on a condom and used some more lotion to slicken his erection. Tony raised his hips in anticipation and a few moments later he felt Gibbs breach him, the pressure steady, slow and exquisite.

When Gibbs bottomed out and started thrusting, Tony's fingers sunk in his hair, pulling his lover's mouth down towards his own. His body was coiling tighter and tighter as the older man pushed into him, cockhead grazing his prostrate on every few thrusts.

All of his nerves came alive as never before and he felt like he was drunk on pleasure, which increased even more when Gibbs reached between their bodies and wrapped his hand around his cock.

It took just three strokes of those calloused, skilled fingers to make him go over the edge. Tony climaxed, crying out his ecstasy, vaguely aware of Gibbs thrusting into him a few more times before the older man stilled and shuddered with a long, satisfied groan.

When he regained some awareness, Tony found himself blanketed by Gibbs' limp body. They were both panting, and the older man's softening cock was still buried inside him. On impulse, Tony locked his legs around his lover's upper thighs to keep the man within him for as long as possible, and whimpered in disappointment when, a few minutes later, Gibbs finally slipped out.

"I'm not going anywhere," Gibbs murmured, raising his head and looking straight at the younger man, his words and soft tone soothing the concern that had been rising in Tony as the afterglow faded. "And neither are you, Tony. The night is young, and we still have a steak to cook and eat."

TBC

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