Chapter 8
Gibbs awoke to the aroma of fresh coffee, bacon, potatoes, and roasted sweet peppers. The sounds from the kitchen were muted but he could faintly hear Tony moving around. Getting his bearings and rubbing sleep from his eyes, he realized the monotonous noise that muffled the kitchen activity was rain on the roof. He looked at the window and though the curtains were closed, he could see it was gray outside. He looked at the digital clock by the bed and blinked when he saw it was almost nine o'clock. He hadn't slept that late without narcotics in years. He got up, pulled on his clothes, and went immediately to the bathroom.
A short time later he stepped into the kitchen only for Tony to walk over to the coffeemaker, pour a cup of coffee and hand it to him. Gibbs smirked a little. "I trained you well."
Tony grinned. "I couldn't believe you didn't wake up when I got out of bed. I'd never seen you sleep so deeply."
Gibbs shrugged. "Not at work."
"How do you feel?"
Gibbs smiled and stepped closer, leaned in and gave Tony a kiss. "Never better," he said sincerely, holding Tony's gaze.
Tony actually still looked tired, though not as tired as he had last night when they finally fell in bed. They'd stayed awake until almost one o'clock watching a movie, and pausing the movie to talk, sometimes about the movie or something the movie reminded them of. They ended up doing more talking than movie-watching, and Gibbs found that his conversation skills weren't so rusty after all. The give and take to their conversation was easy, light. Tony listened to him, seemed to hang onto his every word, and even when sometimes Gibbs struggled to find the right word, Tony remained patient. It was so different from conversations with his exes. Most of the time they got impatient with his uneasiness with words, thought because they knew exactly what they wanted to say that he should too. Tony didn't seem to have that expectation of him.
The sound of sizzling bacon snapping in the skillet reminded them that some things needed immediate attention and Tony reluctantly turned back to the stove to flip the bacon. "Woke up ravenous," Tony said, waving his hand toward the stove and counter.
Gibbs noted the pot of boiling potatoes, and the bowl of chopped vegetables on the counter.
"Making omelets," he clarified and then stiffened as a thought obviously occurred to him. "Do you like omelets?"
"Yeah, they're okay," Gibbs said. "Not something I'd fix for myself, but don't mind if someone else does."
Tony smiled. "It is a bit more work, but it's so good. You'll like this. Trust me?"
Gibbs nodded. "Always."
It was another twenty minutes before the food was ready as Tony made home fries out of the boiled potatoes and stuffed the omelets full of ham, vegetables and cheese. This time Gibbs made the toast. It was worth the wait because by the time he was done eating, Gibbs had made a mental note of all the ingredients because he was going to keep them on-hand for Tony to make this again.
"Damn, Tony, you're going to spoil me."
"Good," Tony smirked.
"You really like cooking?"
"I love to eat it more." Tony hesitated a moment before he spoke again. "Some of the women I've known loved to cook. They taught me a few things. Zoe made me her guinea pig when there was time. She was a good cook and we would write down the recipes so she could make them again. She actually taught me how to flip omelets so they wouldn't fall apart. Turned out I never let the eggs set long enough before attempting to flip." Tony smiled a little self-deprecatingly at this.
Gibbs took a sip of his coffee. He thought he would feel jealous over the women in Tony's life, but he didn't. Tony had said Zoe had been good for him, the cooking thing definitely since he was now reaping the benefits, but his manner was different. Gone was the mania for attention. Tony was more settled, more confident. Gibbs had seen hints of his insecurities at times, but they used to be worse. That quiet confidence looked good on him. He watched as Tony added more black pepper to his omelet. It wasn't too much, but he shook the shaker evenly, measured. For some reason, this thrilled him. This quiet, balanced, measured approach to life that Tony now had. A few days ago, Tony's movements had lacked this. Was this what happened when Tony was in a relationship? If it was, Gibbs loved it already. He would do whatever it took to keep Tony settled, and as happy as possible.
Since it was rainy, they stayed inside and Tony turned on the TV. When Gibbs finished the dishes, he joined him. "Watch a movie with me?" Tony asked, his eyes hopeful.
Gibbs nodded, and Tony smiled as he reached for the bag of DVDs he brought with him. When Tony returned to the couch, he stretched out and laid his head in Gibbs' lap and put his feet up on the arm of the couch. With Tony in this position, Gibbs didn't end up paying much attention to the movie. He was too busy watching Tony. He liked the way his sweatpants hugged his legs, and the way the fabric bunched at the crease where thigh met groin, and the way his t-shirt rode up, exposing a patch of skin between the hem of the shirt and the waistband of his sweats. Tony's focus seemed completely centered on the movie and Gibbs leaned in and stroked through his hair.
After a few minutes, Tony paused the movie and looked up at Gibbs. "I could get used to that."
Gibbs grinned. "Good."
"Didn't expect you to be so…I don't know, affectionate, I guess."
"Don't like it?"
"No, no!" Tony said quickly. "I do like it. Just…used to you being gruff, distant, aloof."
"That's work."
"Used to be like that outside of work too, though not quite as much."
"Happier now than I have been in a long time. Don't want to waste it."
Gibbs resumed his caresses, enjoying the contrast of soft skin and hard muscle under his fingers and hand. Tony closed his eyes and hummed his appreciation. He forgot to resume playing the movie but it didn't seem like he noticed or cared. Gibbs watched the emotions play over his face as he stroked over his arm, chest, neck, face and through his hair. He kept a rhythmic pace, soothing, hoping Tony might be lulled to sleep as it looked like he needed to rest.
It wasn't to be. Tony opened his eyes a short time later and smiled up at Gibbs. "This is…really nice."
Gibbs nodded.
Tony sighed a little. "Will you be upset if I do leave NCIS?"
"You need to do what's right for you. Don't make your decision based on what anyone else thinks, not even me."
Tony sat up then and turned toward Gibbs. "You don't understand. No matter what I do career-wise, I still want you in my life, so you have a say in this. You talked about retirement. What do you want?"
Gibbs took a deep breath. He knew exactly what he wanted. He'd had nothing but time since he'd been shot to think about it.
Tony mistook his silence for uncertainty. "Take your time," he said with a small smile. "We still have a little over a week. You don't have to answer right now, but we do have to talk about this before we go back."
"I know what I want…need some time to put it all together."
Tony nodded. "I'll restart the movie then."
The next few days, they both avoided any heavy conversations, though they filled it with lighter conversations, and even a few games. Gibbs beat Tony at horseshoes three times, Tony beat him twice. They played catch with the football Tony found. Gibbs mowed the lawn one morning, his way of saying 'thank you' to Tony's friends, but didn't hesitate to fall in the pool to cool off afterward, letting himself float for a bit. They spent an inordinate amount of time using the suntan oil on each other and by the middle of the second week, their bodies were nicely tanned and most of the pain in Gibbs' knee was gone though it still swelled if he overdid it. He felt some tenderness in his chest, but nothing like what it had been. They had explored the town of Wild Run, found a couple of restaurants they ate at, tried local fare. Tony decided he didn't like North Carolina barbecue, thought it was too vinegary, was used to thicker sauces. Gibbs seemed to like everything and teased Tony about being picky.
They didn't argue, not once. They sat outside on the deck looking at the stars in the evening some nights, or if it was too cloudy or wet, they'd watch a movie or TV inside. They shared the ice cream, and at one point, Tony picked up chocolate cake for himself.
Most evenings, after it was too dark and the mosquitos were feasting, they would sit together on the couch and make out, lots of kissing and necking, by some unspoken agreement not pushing things farther. Right now, it was about connection, intimacy, getting to know each other in a new way. Gibbs was honest enough to admit that he was worried about screwing things up. Part of his upbringing nagged in his mind that he shouldn't have sex in someone else's house though he wondered if Tony was jerking off in the shower as much as he was. He knew the wait would be worth it when they reached that point, but until they figured out their futures and came to terms with the recent past, it wasn't a good idea to complicate things.
One thing that surprised Gibbs was how much time Tony liked to spend alone. He had always painted himself as very sociable, vivacious, always on the go, not content to sit still. As long as he had a drink, a sweater and a blanket or towel, he sat on the beach thinking for hours. Gibbs didn't disturb him, though he would sometimes look out and check on him, make sure he was okay. He wondered what Tony thought about out there, what decisions he was making, what haunted him.
Since they'd been here, Gibbs' nightmares decreased. He still had occasional bad dreams, but the fear he had felt in previous dreams had lessened, and he didn't wake up with throbbing physical pain incited by mental duress. He slept better, deeper, longer than he had in a long time. Maybe it was the ocean air, maybe it was all the physical activity, maybe it was because of his relationship with Tony. Sometimes when he was reading, he'd flash back to that moment he got shot and instead of panicking, he would be able to see it unfold as an observer rather than the victim. He saw himself get shot but instead of feeling the pain like a physical blow all over again, it was more like a wince of sympathy, a knowing of how it felt, but not reliving it. There were no more panic attacks, which he attributed to Tony's presence.
Tony seemed to feel better as well. The dark circles under his eyes faded. He was cheerful in the mornings, playful throughout the days and when he headed to the beach to be alone, he seemed less tense and haunted. His smile seemed brighter, warmer, and his eyes danced with humor. He teased Gibbs a lot. They laughed more than they ever had. It made both of them feel good, and most importantly, they had fun.
