So I've kind of turned this story into a series of mini stories, rather than one big plot line, like a normal story would, with each chapter having its own plot to a specific moment in Gibbs and Horatio's life together. Some chapters are serious, others loving, and some I try to insert a little humor into the situation. I definitely like how it's turned out. It's a really fun story to work on when I need a break from my main series.
Pumpkin Ice Cream
They walked along the strip of shops in the small neighborhood in Chicago. Though it was cold outside, they stopped to buy ice cream and continued their walk. The redhead slowly slipped his hand into the other man's and linked their fingers together.
"Being bold today, aren't you, Horatio?" the older man asked.
"Well we are in Boys Town," the redhead chuckled, "Everyone's gay here."
"Would you have done this if we were in DC or Miami?" his lover inquired.
"Maybe," he responded.
"I'm not sure you would have," the silver haired man responded. "I think you're still kind of scared."
"Jethro, you're almost retired, I'm not," he argued. "If someone caught me in a relationship like ours I would loose so much."
"Are you saying I would loose nothing because I'm older?" his lover asked him.
"No, I'm just saying you have more seniority at NCIS than I do in Miami. The rules are different where you work from where I work."
"Then why don't you quit your job?" his lover simply asked him. "I'm sure you could find work elsewhere."
"Because," the redhead said, fighting for words with himself, "I'm not in it for the money. I do my work for the victims. The ones who can't speak for their self, the ones who can't tell me what happened. I do this for them. So they can have a voice again. I don't do it for the fame or the glory. I do it so I can bring closure to the families who've lost the ones they love."
His lover squeezed his hand and smiled at him. He leaned over and kissed the younger man.
"That's why I love you," he whispered. "You fight for all the same reasons I do."
The redhead smiled and blushed a little. He continued to eat his waffle cone of ice cream as they strolled down the sidewalk.
"Why is the rainbow the official gay symbol?" the silver haired man asked as they passed a store with a gay pride flag outside it. "Why couldn't it be something interesting or intimidating like a lion or the just the color red?"
"I think the point is supposed to be about unity," the redhead chuckled.
"Well, lions live in packs," the older man observed. "I think we should petition to change the mascot."
The redhead laughed and squeezed the other man's hand. "You ask a lot of questions."
"Why did you get butter pecan?" the silver haired man asked.
"Because it's my favorite," the redhead responded. "Why did you get pumpkin?"
"Because it's orange, like your hair," his said as he licked his ice cream.
The redhead chuckled and squeezed his hand.
"But seriously," his lover continued, "Butter pecan is such an old man flavor."
"Are you calling me old?" the redhead playfully asked. "Because I do remember us just discussing that you're older than me."
"You better not be getting old on me," the silver haired man said. "You get too old and lose your sex drive then we're going to have a serious problem."
"What, you only like me because I can stay up all night screwing around with you?" he chuckled.
"No, I love you because you're such an amazing person," his lover said. "Screwing around with you is just a great benefit to this relationship. I really don't want to have sex with anyone else."
The redhead smiled and leaned his head on the older man's shoulder. "I love you, too," he whispered, kissing his jaw.
The silver haired man stopped them and gently held the other man's face with his one free hand. He leaned in and gently kissed him. The passion grew behind their kisses as they stood together in the streets of Chicago.
"Hey fags! Save it for the bedroom!"
They turned to see a gruff looking man walking towards them. He was carrying a large metal pipe. Anger burned through his eyes.
"Shit, we're not in Boys Town anymore, are we?" the silver haired man whispered.
"No," the redhead whispered, "I don't think so."
"What do you think you're doing?" the man continued to taunt them.
"Sir, we don't want any problems," the redhead said, his hand slowly reaching for his glock where it was hidden beneath his jacket.
"Oh I've got a problem," the man sneered, "And I know the solution." He raised the pipe as if to strike the redhead, but stopped when a bullet ripped through his shoulder. He fell to his knees and grasped at his shoulder as blood pooled on his shirt. The redhead turned to see his lover holding his gun, the muzzle still smoking in the cold air off Lake Michigan.
"You want to call it in or do you want me to, Horatio?" his lover asked as he stuffed his gun back into its holster.
"No need to," the redhead said, "Here come a couple of officers now."
A male and female officer approached them, glocks held at their sides. Both their nametags read "Johnson."
"What seems to be the problem?" the male officer inquired.
"This man threatened us," the silver haired man explained, pulling his gun from its holster. "He tried to attach my partner so I defended him the only way I quickly could."
"Do you have a permit for that weapon?" the young female officer inquired.
"Yes," the silver haired man said. He pulled out the leather wallet that held his badge and ID card from NCIS and handed it to the female officer. She read over and looked at the redhead. "And you, sir?"
He handed over his wallet holding his badge and ID care from Miami Dade. She examined it as the male officer called for an ambulance.
"Well you're both going to have to come down to the station with us," she explained as the ambulance pulled up. "I'm sorry to inconvenience you on your vacation, but its standard procedure."
"That's quite alright," the silver haired man said, slipping his hand back into the redhead's. "We understand."
"Are you prepared to give a statement, telling us in your own words what happened?" she asked.
"Yes, we are," the silver haired man responded.
"And you do understand that we need you to be one hundred percent honest?" she continued.
"Yes, and we will be," he said. He looked at the redhead. His expression told the younger man there was no hiding the truth this time.
"Dispatch this is Foxtrot Eight-Six, E. Johnson," the female officer said into her radio.
"Dispatch, go ahead Johnson," the voice crackled over the air.
"We've got an assault, possible self-defense over near Boys Town," she continued. "We're bringing in the subjects in question now and sending one to the hospital. You copy?"
"Ten-four, Foxtrot Eight-Six."
Though they weren't arrested they still had to ride in the backseat of the patrol car. They held hands with their palms pressed tightly together. They listened to the patrol units in the front seat talking. It seemed they were a father-daughter team.
"So Grandma wants us over for Thanksgiving again?" the female officer inquired.
"Yes, but she promises she's not deep frying the turkey this year," the male officer answered.
"Good, because that was the worse case of food poisoning I've ever had!" the female officer said with a laugh.
The silver haired man leaned over and kissed the redhead. He nuzzled his face against the younger man's neck and smiled.
"Everything's going to be just fine," he whispered. "You have nothing to be worried about."
The redhead smiled and brought the other man's face to his own. "I know," he whispered, "You were just protecting me."
"I just wish I hadn't dropped my ice cream," the silver haired man said. "It was really good."
The redhead chuckled and kissed his lover again. "Oh Jethro," he whispered, "Always thinking about your stomach."
Disclaimer: I know I use some very intense language in many of my stories but I would like to say I am indeed pro-equality for everyone. I have absolutely no problem with anyone of a different race, gender, creed, or sexual preference. I'm just always afraid that my writing might give off a different impression sometimes. .
