Chapter Seven: Coming Out

Tony had excused himself to use the bathroom while watching a movie at McGee's house-Live and Let Die, to be exact-and had now been in there for several minutes, hoping McGee would forget that he was there. He couldn't exactly explain why he was hiding, but he was sure that he wanted to stay that way. He was starting to think that asking McGee out was a bad idea. His brain was running rampant with all the ways it could go wrong, and he couldn't bring himself to leave the bathroom and face the fact that they might actually happen.

Unfortunately for Tony, McGee was one of those people that actually worried about you if you were gone for more than a few moments. "Tony, are you okay?" He could here McGee's eyebrows furrow as he spoke.

"Go away, Probie," Tony snapped, refusing to leave.

"Tony, why did you ask me out if you were going to hole yourself up in the bathroom the whole time? You know what? Nevermind. The food's here when you want it." McGee sounded more dejected than Tony had ever heard, which was saying something, considering the time that McGee shot the cop, but before Tony could think of anything to say, McGee had left.

Tony finally came back into the small living room to see McGee, who was holding chopsticks in one hand, the Chinese take-out box in the other, and was staring at the paused movie screen blankly. He looked like he was more likely to throw up what he'd eaten for lunch than actually consume his diner. As if to prove Tony right, McGee put down the box and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.
When Tony finally sat down next to the younger agent, McGee jerked himself upright and shook his head as if to clear it. He reached for the second box and handed it to Tony, along with a pair of chopsticks that he broke open for Tony with a smile. It made Tony's heart break to see the slight pain in McGee's eyes, even as the younger agent tried to hide it.

Tony stuck his chopsticks into the food and then dropped the box back onto the table, making McGee jump. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to upset you, I'm just scared. I can't explain it...I-"

McGee cut him off. "Don't worry about it, Tony. I was just worried you were hurt and not telling me." The lie was apparent in McGee's voice, as was the implication that Tony was hurt and not telling him, just in a different way than they'd been talking about.

Tony didn't have the nerve to call him on it and decided to change the subject. "So, what did Vance want this morning?" Tony picked up his Chinese.

McGee followed suit and shrugged. "Nothing important." McGee hit the play button on the remote, effectively ending the conversation.

When they finished their food, Tony took the trash and disappeared before returning and taking his medicine. After a while he laid his head on

McGee's shoulder and closed his eyes, telling himself that it was just for a moment.

When Tony awoke he found he was lying down on a bed smaller than his own, and it smelled like McGee, though the younger man was nowhere to be seen. He glanced over at the clock and saw that it read two in the morning. He almost decided that meant McGee was asleep, but then he noticed that there was a light coming in from under the door. Tony sat himself up and then almost reluctantly crawled out from under the covers.

He stumbled like a half-asleep child towards the door, and then down the hall to McGee's writing room, where he younger agent was typing away, unaware of Tony's presence.

"Tim?" Tony mumbled, causing McGee to jump.

The younger agent swiveled his chair to face Tony and smiled. "Hey there. Do you need anything?"

Tony blinked slowly. "It's cold."

McGee nodded, getting up and opening a hall closet that Tony had totally missed, pulling out an afghan and wrapping it around the shivering man in front of him. An arm was gently placed around Tony's shoulders and he was being led back to the bedroom, so gently he barely noticed he was moving until McGee was pulling the covers over him again.

"Wait," Tony called to McGee as the other man closed the door.

The door was pushed open again. "Hm?"

"Are we on call this weekend?" Tony asked, desperately searching for something to say that would make McGee stay in there with him.

"When aren't we?" McGee answered sadly.

"Is it Friday?"

"Saturday morning, actually," McGee answered slowly.

"Have you been to sleep yet? Because it's like two, and-"

"Tony," McGee interrupted suspiciously, raising an eyebrow, "do you want something?"

"Can you stay here please?" Tony responded, very quietly.

McGee smiled. "Sure, Tony. I'll be right back." McGee turned, leaving the door open.

Tony saw the lights go off across the hall. Some doors clicked shut, the locks on the front door turned, and then the bedroom door clicked shut. Tony couldn't see anything, but McGee wasn't next to him, and he wondered if he had misjudged McGee's ability to lie. The thought was interrupted when weight was added to the other side of the bed and an arm was wrapped around him.

"Jesus, Tony, how are you so cold," McGee chattered, rubbing a hand back and forth on Tony's arm through the afghan.

In response, Tony wiggled farther into McGee's warm embrace, pressing his freezing toes on McGee's shins. Tony grinned to himself in satisfaction as McGee shivered and tightened his grip around the older man.

McGee's breathing slowed and evened out against Tony's neck, signaling that the other agent had fallen asleep, but now Tony was awake, and he started talking very quietly, saying things he didn't have the courage to tell McGee when the other agent could hear him.

"Timmy, when I was in high school, there was this boy. He was kinda like you. He was nice and funny and smart, and he made me so happy all the time. We were dating—secretly because you know, I was a jock—am a jock—and you—he—was like a nerd. And he didn't mind much. But one day my dad found out and—and—" Tears silently slid off Tony's face onto McGee's arms. The other agent shifted closer to Tony in his sleep.

After a few minutes, Tony continued talking. "He was horrible. He yelled at me and hit me and locked me in my room for a week, only feeding me like once a day. It was during the summer, so no one knew, and when he finally let me out, this guy—his name was Jamie—just said some horrible things—said he never loved me—and then he left me, and—and I never saw him again." He started crying again.

McGee was stroking him slowly, trying to calm him down, but Tony didn't even really notice or care. "My dad said it served me right—that no son of his would—and I told him that I didn't care what he thought. And he said I did. And he was right. I did care. I do care. I-I don't want to, but all I can think is that maybe he made Jamie leave, or maybe Jamie was right to leave me, or... and what if he makes you leave, or you find that I don't deserve you, because I don't, and...and..."

"Ssshhh..." McGee whispered into his ear. "Don't say such things, Tony. I'm not going anywhere." He continued comforting Tony until the other man had calmed down.

"When I was a kid, my parents loved me a lot, but when my dad first caught me kissing a guy, he freaked out and didn't talk to me for a week. He didn't tell anyone what had happened; I didn't even know he had seen it. Finally, he and my mom got in a huge argument, which ended in her saying something about don't ask, don't tell that I didn't understand and then storming out. She stayed the night at her friend's or something, and the next day my dad sat me down and apologized and tried to explain. In the end, I thought he actually did hate me for like two years until I was going away to college and my mom told me something about her college years. Apparently she dated my aunt for like a year and my dad never knew or something."

Tony started crying again, this time harder than before. McGee gave him a tight squeeze and then whispered in his ear. "When my dad told the other kid's dad, I didn't see him for a week, and when I did see him he told me he was not allowed to see me. I told him he was full of crap, and refused to let him break up with me for such a stupid reason. What I didn't find out until later was that my dad had basically yelled his head off at the guy I was seeing—Tom—after I stood up to the jerk and got slugged for my trouble. Tom's dad got pissed and beat me up. My dad was his CO, and he was given a dishonorable discharge."

Through his tears, Tony demanded angrily, "Why are you telling me this, McGee?"

"Because I don't care what your dad or anyone thinks, I'm not going to leave you, especially not for something stupid. I don't care if I alienate everyone, that's no reason to hurt you. I love you, DiNozzo." McGee kissed him on the temple gently and then tightened his grip around the other man.

"Why'd you pretend to be asleep?"

"I didn't. I woke up as soon as you started talking, but you didn't even notice." McGee snuggled close to him.

"Oh," Tony mumbled sleepily. "What if my dad kills you?"

McGee chuckled at that. "I wouldn't worry about that, Tony."

"That sounds ominous." Tony was barely clinging to consciousness.

"It is," McGee whispered. Tony clung to McGee's hands as he fell asleep, refusing to let go.