A/N:

Another Tony/Gibbs Slash story (yeah, I got hooked xD). There are probably next to no spoilers as this isn't set in any particular season. So yeah, nothing much to say right now, I just hope you like the start of this one and maybe leave a review! :)

Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS et al. [Also, I shamelessly stole the last line from an ancient episode of Grey's Anatomy].

Denial

Chapter One: Blame it all on McGee

Tony DiNozzo was in denial.

Not that that was a particularly astounding fact because, really, he kind of always was in denial about one thing or another. But this time it was different, this time it was something else entirely. This denial thing had grown out of proportion in a way that even scared himself whenever he gave it more than a few moments thought.

And it was all McGee's fault.

Yes, in fact if the goddamn probie hadn't insisted to go out to dinner with him, Tony would have never known about such a thing. If McGee hadn't taken him there, he would have had his happily ever after with that thing called denial.

But no, McGee had to ask, had to drag him to that stupid restaurant and of course, Tony's shoelaces had to loosen themselves up on the way to the restroom and of course, Tony had to crouch down to knot the laces at the exact moment that one Leroy Jethro, second 'b' for bastard, Gibbs had to waltz into the place, had to have his arm around one of those beautiful redheads and of course, their eyes had to meet at the exact same moment when Tony was about to get up again and of course, Gibbs had to avert his glance immediately, had to act like he hadn't even seen him.

So, really, it all was McGee's fault, there was no way around it. He would have to confront him about it, would have to tell him never to eat dinner with him ever again. But then again, wouldn't that mean that he had gotten over the denial? Probably yes and Tony had no intention to do so. He would not acknowledge the lunacy of it all. He just wouldn't.

Because that thing that had been tugging so uncomfortably at something buried deep inside of him as he had seen Gibbs with that… woman (and yes, he had thought of her in various other, not as nice definitions, too) had surely just been a sign that the food he had eaten before had been foul and had had surely nothing to do with the fact that Gibbs hadn't been at home, preferably alone in his basement, that night. If anything - and Tony wasn't that much in denial not to admit that this thing wasn't entirely to blame on external factors but maybe a tiny little bit, on that weird stuff called feelings - had he been hurt that Gibbs hadn't even nodded at him, let alone had said hello. So, that must have been it. He was just a bit hurt that that redhead had screwed with his boss' mind, had made him act like he didn't even know Tony.

That surely must be it… right?

And because Tony wasn't one to brood over things for too long, he had decided to just take action. And it was not like one would think. Of course, he just didn't walk up to Gibbs and ask why exactly he had chosen to ignore him because that would be giving in to the denial and Tony really didn't want to do that – ever. And as he was a man of many stupid words and probably even more stupid actions, he had just decided to go out, drink a couple of beers (without McGee because if he would have been there, Gibbs surely would have shown up, too. In retrospect though, he wished he had taken him after all but for entirely different reasons) and hopefully hook up with a beautiful not-redheaded woman.

The night had started out very satisfying, had proven to him that he had not lost his mojo after all, had proven to him that he had not freaked out over nothing because after two, three or four beers that smoking hot girl had approached him, had asked him to dance, had agreed to a couple of drinks and hadn't objected his offer to walk her home afterwards. It had all gone so smoothly that Tony should probably have known that it was all too smooth, that something had to go wrong in the end.

And so it did, which in return, had led him to the realization that having McGee there to stop all the craziness would have been a smart move, a very smart move indeed. But he hadn't dragged him to the bar with him and that was why Tony was lying in that girl's bed now, feeling utterly confused – no, that didn't cut it at all - he was dazed, confounded and maybe even a tiny little bit embarrassed about it all because that was so not like him. This was so not a thing that Tony DiNozzo did. And yet, he had.

He wasn't talking about having a one night stand because that really was a thing that he did – not as much as he used to but still quite often. No, he was confused, dazed, confounded, maybe embarrassed or whatever about something else entirely, even though he was sure that the girl (and seriously, what was her name again? Had he even bothered to ask?) hadn't even realized it. It was the fact that he had felt the need to talk himself to actually go up with her into her apartment, had felt the need to talk himself to get busy with her. That simply wasn't a thing that Tony DiNozzo had ever had problems with, not when a woman was so willingly complying with his wishes.

But to add insult to injury, that wasn't even the worst thing about it all. As he was driving in and out of her, eliciting that cute little moans from her, he couldn't help but wish it would be over soon, couldn't help but think about how much stronger arms, how much more calloused hands would feel on his back. But before that thought had even formed itself in his mind completely, the woman under him had tightened around him and he had hurried to release a few half-hearted grunts himself and had faked, had actually faked his own orgasm.

So, he was lying there now, staring at the girl next to him who was already sound asleep, and couldn't help but realize that he was so screwed – and McGee was to blame for it.

He suddenly couldn't take being there if only for a few more seconds and hurried to get dressed, hurried to get out of there. He didn't care what that girl thought of him, didn't care that this was as bad a relapse as it could be – because seriously, he had sworn to him to grow up after all. But he just didn't care. He just wanted to get away from her, from all of that, from all those thoughts. And it was when he realized one thing:

Denial really wasn't just a river in Egypt. It was a freaking ocean.

A/N: Let me know what you think, please! :)