Happy Sunday! We wish to thank you, once again, for your continued support and enthusiasm for this story. We are tremendously humbled by the wonderful thoughts you have shared with us.

This is a long one to keep you warm on the shortest day of the year! Happy Holidays!

Gibbs was coming to his home.

His home.

To stay.

Not for a quick beer. Not for dinner and maybe a showing of 'Platoon' or 'Rio Bravo' if Tony could sneak it in before Jethro's fingers started itching for the wood and sand paper and isolation waiting for him back in his basement.

There was no basement for Gibbs to withdraw to now. No cold beer or dusty bottle of Bourbon waited with the silence and the ghosts to welcome him home at the end of the night. This would be Gibbs' home for now, and the two of them would just have to work that out as they went along.

Tony was beginning to think maybe he should have mulled this whole idea over just a bit more before being so insistent. It wasn't that he didn't want Gibbs staying with him. Well, not exactly anyway. It was more the idea of being in such close proximity to him for hours on end, being surrounded by his smell, his heat, and his increasingly frequent and semi-disturbing casual touches, that made Tony edgy. It was the unshakable thought that he'd be spending whole days with nowhere to run from the want he found it impossible to fight any longer and it just…well, it just scared the ever living hell out of him if he was really being honest with himself.

The even more frightening development, the one that really had his guts twisting and his breath coming in sharp little startled gasps every once in a while, was the look of curiosity and affection he'd seen in Gibbs' eyes since the basement. Those darkly contemplative looks that said Jethro was quietly trying to puzzle out something in his own head and was almost there. The looks that had that tiny spark of hope swirling in Tony's stomach and making him think that maybe…maybe, there was just the craziest bit of a reason to let it take hold.

Scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair, Tony watched two men in blue jumpsuits from Carl's Mattress Emporium disassemble his small yet functional twin and replace it with a sturdy king that seemed almost monstrous in comparison. He'd managed to sneak out yesterday afternoon when Abby got called in to handle some incoming evidence, and he'd had only one destination in mind. The new bed had slatted head and foot boards of solid oak that matched his single night stand. They were hand crafted and strong enough to meet even Gibbs' harsh inspection.

He'd checked.

Three times.

Tony had scrutinized each seam and groove, looked for the telltale marks of hand tools-skills Gibbs had taught him-that marked this piece as what it claimed to be. It had taken some doing and more than a little bit of extra cash to ensure delivery today along with the new pillow-topped mattress set, but he was running short on time and options.

He couldn't say exactly what it was that prompted the spur of the moment purchase. Tony had already planned to give Gibbs his bed and take a spot on the couch, but he'd found himself unexpectedly standing in his bedroom more than once since he'd returned home. Standing and staring at the space designed so meticulously for one, while his gut screamed at him that the set-up was wholly inadequate for the kind of life he suddenly found parts of himself secretly contemplating when the rest of his brain wasn't looking.

Maybe a double bed or a Queen would have made more sense as a stepping stone, but in his head a king seemed the logical choice. As used to sleeping alone as he was, Tony had no confidence that even if he found someone worthy and wanting to share his bed he'd be able to eke out a decent night's sleep with another body tangled around him. In part, the idea was appealing, but there were certain practicalities to be considered as well. A king sized bed seemed…safe. If Tony found himself wanting to flee, he only needed to roll over into another hemisphere and he could pretend he was completely alone.

Of course it wasn't like that was a situation that was going to present itself in the immediate future. At least that's what he kept firmly telling the controller of the widescreen at the back of his head that insisted on projecting the image of Gibbs fucking the every living hell out of him atop those new crisp, white sheets. Fucking him while Tony held tight to those thick wood slats and came and came and came until there was nothing left.

It certainly wasn't his first fantasy involving Gibbs, but this one was a bit more persistent and kept popping up at very inopportune moments where he had to work like hell to keep his dick in check.

Looking at his watch, Tony glanced nervously at the door. The swapping of the beds was taking a bit longer than he had anticipated and Tim and Abby were due back with a list of supplies they'd insisted on picking up for him since Tony had been ordered to stay off his leg and keep it elevated as much as possible for at least another day.

As if on cue, he heard a faint ruckus outside his door and the sound of, what appeared to be, more than one bag of groceries colliding with the hallway carpet. Rolling his eyes and starting for the entryway, Tony made it most of the way to the landing before McGee, Abby, and several unbalanced and slightly damaged looking parcels burst through his front door and barely avoided landing in a large heap at his feet.

"Tony! You're not supposed to be up," Abby admonished as she righted herself and shed her bags one at a time.

"And last time I checked, you weren't my mother or my doctor," Tony said steadily as he arched a brow. Two days and he was already more than a little tired of being coddled.

"Anthony DiNozzo, do not make me tie you to that chair, because you know I can and you know I will." She clumped down the steps and moved toward him with a raised finger.

Tony surrendered with a dramatic sigh knowing that most of his irritation had to do with his own frayed nerves rather than Abby's over attentiveness. He really didn't have it in him to fight right now. "I've been keeping it up the whole time you were gone, Abbs. Don't worry." He submitted placidly to the hand on his forehead that checked for fever.

"Good. Because I left my ropes back at my apartment and you know how I feel about settling for sub-standard equipment." She smiled prettily, winked, and leaned in to kiss his cheek, seemingly satisfied that he wasn't actively dying at that precise moment.

"Uh, Tony? What's going on in your bedroom?" McGee pointed toward where the two workmen were just finishing up while Abby moved past them into the kitchen.

"Oh." Tony fought hard to keep the heat from rising into his cheeks. "There was a sale. A couple weeks ago. Almost forgot about it being delivered with everything else going on," he lied smoothly. "Been looking for a new bed for a while."

"Uh huh." Tim sounded completely unconvinced.

"What? Can't a man want to spread out a little in his own bed?" Tony knew he should probably let it drop but couldn't bring himself to do so.

"So you're telling me the fact that you've suddenly switched from the world's tiniest bed to…that thing," Tim gestured toward the now set-up king," has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Gibbs is coming to stay here?" He looked at Tony calmly, as if begging him to deny it.

"You get hit on the head during that storm too, Probie? You're talking crazy." Tony's eyes kept straying back to the bedroom guiltily even as he refuted Tim's assertion. "Listen, Gibbs is injured. He needs a comfortable place to sleep while he heals. He gets the bed. I get the couch. End of story. So don't go starting crazy rumors McGossipGirl."

McGee shrugged. "Tell yourself whatever you want, Tony. I saw the way he was looking at you when we found you. I saw the way you were looking at him too. Abby says she's seen it for a long time but if I hadn't…If I hadn't seen him touch you like that…If I hadn't seen that photo in his wallet." Tim shook his head. "I don't even know how to feel about it, but there's something there, Tony, and denying it isn't going to make it just go away."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Tim." Tony's voice was quiet this time, almost regretful. "It was like in the movie, 'Speed', where Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves have all that sexual tension because they're staring down death and running for their lives? But it's just the heat of the moment. The adrenalin rush. They know it won't last. It's not real." His inner fears were making themselves known out loud now, and to the most unlikely of sources.

"But we face down death together every damn day, Tony, and Gibbs doesn't look at me or Ziva like he was looking at you that night. I know what I saw. Maybe I know more than you do." McGee shrugged and walked into the kitchen to join Abby in the unpacking process, leaving a speechless Tony in his wake.

Abby squinted at both men as they slunk up to the counter in turn. "What?"

"Nothing," the two of them said in unison, and then looked at each other, clearly surprised by the mutually tight-lipped response.

Abby looked from Tony to McGee, obviously aware that something had passed between them and waiting for one or the other to come out with it.

After a tense moment and a quick side-glance at Tim, Tony cleared his throat. "So, were you able to get everything on the list?" He hoped his not-so-subtle segue was a signal that he wasn't open to a discussion at the moment.

Abby's face lit up triumphantly and she quickly moved past her suspicions. "Almost everything. Still have half a car full downstairs." She looked pointedly at McGee who rolled his eyes but departed without argument.

"It was really sweet of you to think of all those things, you know," Abby said as soon as they heard the front door close firmly behind Tim. Her eyes got all big and dewy as she laid a hand on Tony's upper arm. "I know Gibbs will be really touched that you did all of this for him, Tony, even if he doesn't exactly say it. Even if he can't say it." She bit her lip, clearly debating something. "Tim said that when he found you, the two of you looked like you were…together, a little more than usual. He said Gibbs held your hand." She was unable to keep the edge of excitement from creeping into her voice.

"Don't." Tony shook his head. "We were both scared and relieved to get out of there alive, Abby. Don't let McGee make it into more than it was."

"What was it, Tony?" she pressed gently. "I mean, all the things you had me buy? You'd have to care pretty deeply about someone to think of all that. Don't tell me…"

"He doesn't have anything, Abby," Tony interrupted. He was desperate to steer the conversation in a different direction. "I just wanted him to feel at home, that's all. Just let it go, okay?"

Abby nodded reluctantly but not before she gave his arm a decidedly sympathetic squeeze.

"What about the rest of the list?" Tony started poking into the open bags on the counter.

"Well, they were totally out of the farmer's bread you wanted so I got sourdough instead. I got all the fresh fruit from that market you told me about off of H street, and we even made it to Little Italy for the fresh pasta." She ticked off items as she unpacked. "We found the shower chair and all the bath stuff and totally stocked you up on bandages and other first aid supplies."

"Thanks, Abbs. I mean it. I couldn't have gotten all of this done without you. And McGee too, of course," Tony said sincerely.

Abby looked at him uncertainly from beneath dark lashes. "Tony, are you really sure you can handle this on your own? You're still not completely on your feet and Gibbs is going to need someone to help him with all kinds of things, really help him, Tony. And he's gonna be stubborn and try to do way too much himself, you know that, right?" Her hand kept returning to his arm as if his physical presence was reassuring. "Why don't you let Ducky or I stay with you both, at least for the first couple of days."

It was unlike Abby to be so completely serious and Tony now understood that she'd sent McGee running on purpose. "We're both gonna be fine, Abbs. Only thing I need to do for myself is change bandages and remember to take pills, something I've had a lot of practice at over the years. I can take care of whatever Gibbs needs. I already talked to his doctor about it. Where do you think the list came from?" He was still a little nervous about the help Dr. Miller and the nursing staff had said Gibbs would need with bathing and dressing but Tony assumed that would sort itself out one way or another. "I promise I'll let you know if it's too much," he reassured her sincerely.

Abby sighed, clearly realizing that any further discussion was moot. "Okay, but we're all here if you need us."

"I know, Abbs." Tony leaned in and kissed her cheek fondly before he let her return to the unpacking. This was the most food he'd had in his place since the disastrous incident with his father a few years back. He wasn't exactly sure where they were going to fit it all.

"So, about that bed?" Abby quirked a wicked smile and artfully dodged Tony's smack to her bottom as she turned for the refrigerator.

Tony stared out his living room window at the sun-dappled shadows of the street below. When he'd returned home yesterday, he'd been grateful to find that the power had been restored. Parts of the city were still shut down completely including Gibbs' neighborhood and the areas around it, but most of DC was moving on, picking itself up, and dusting off quite nicely.

His sense of time was woefully off-kilter. Less than 72 hours ago he'd stood at this window watching the approaching storm, thinking of Gibbs, head heavy with guilt, regret, and wanting. Time had crawled for him since that moment and Tony had to keep reminding himself that the rest of the world had moved at a normal pace while he had been stuck in other-worldly slow motion.

Below him, people rushed by, scurried home like usual, walked their dogs, carried packages, every one of them unaware that a profound shift had taken place in his universe since he'd last stood here gazing down at them.

Already there had been change. The door to Tony's heart was still far from wide open, but now a sliver of light shone through and illuminated the dusty and barren corners whose emptiness had become so familiar to him, he'd nearly forgotten their promise and purpose. He allowed his thoughts to linger a bit longer on Jethro now, to dwell without the guilt and shame and fear that had so colored his imaginings before a few days ago.

Change.

The word represented so many things all wrapped up in two tiny but efficient syllables. For Tony, change was hope. Change was fear. It was all of the things he told himself could live without at the same time it was the stuff that colored the dreams he would never admit to having. Change was the enemy of the perfect world of contented illusion he had created around himself. It was the catapult that would bring down his walls even as he surrendered. And yet he was almost hungry for it now, starving for the touch and the smell and the taste of change after fighting against it for so long.

Maybe I want things to change…I know what we're talking about, Tony.

Those words kept repeating in a stubborn loop in his head. Did Gibbs really know? Was it really what he wanted? Was it really what Tony wanted? There were so many questions that needed answering. So many that he was afraid to ask.

The knock on the door drew him out of his reverie with a start and he realized his breathing and heart rate had both sped up.

Like it or not, change had come to call for good or ill.

Tony ran a nervous hand through his hair as he stood before the door, schooled his features, and ushered in a smiling Ducky and a not-so-smiling Gibbs.

Gibbs was limping heavily on a bulky cast around the lower part of his injured leg. He looked tired and there was a tightness around his eyes that Tony didn't like. While he didn't appear to be in any discomfort when walking, his gait was awkward and Tony could almost hear the grumbling going on inside his head.

Tony's eyes drank in Gibbs from head to toe, lingering on the bandages around his temple, the yellowing bruises on the side of his face, the unnatural stiffness to his upper body that came from his bound up ribs, the brace that circled his wrist and looped over his thumb. All the while, the little checklist that had become so important to him during their time in the basement and immediately after repeated itself in Tony's head. He is whole. He is breathing. He is here.

Tony's breath hitched at the distinct softening he detected around Jethro's eyes the moment the other man caught him in his appraisal. There was that curiosity again, the slight cock of Gibbs' head, the new and unmistakable interest that lit an instant fire in Tony's belly.

It took a few moments for Tony to realize that Ducky had been talking since he and Gibbs had come through the door and he shook himself out of his temporary haze to focus on the ME's rapid fire instructions.

"The bandages are to be changed twice per day. If there is no significant drainage you can switch to butterfly bandages alone in a day or so. As for the sutures on his arm and leg, those should stay as dry as possible, though patting with a soft cloth during a shower is fine provided you dry them thoroughly and redress them. They'll come out in another week or so." He turned to Gibbs and raised a finger. "And no taking them out yourself this time, Jethro. I mean it," he admonished sternly. "Anthony, I trust you know how to monitor for signs of infection?" Ducky's eyes went from one man to the other, clearly aware now of the heaviness hanging between them.

Tony's eyes strayed back to Gibbs who was still gazing at him in ponderous silence.

"Yes, well. I've written everything else down on an easy schedule for you," Ducky said with a trace of doubt when his query returned no response. "I do still wish you'd reconsider and let someone stay and keep an eye on both of you for a few days." He looked hopefully from Tony to Gibbs.

"I think we're good, Duck," Gibbs said without breaking eye contact with Tony.

"Right then," the ME said somewhat awkwardly. "I'll just leave these medications on the kitchen counter and get out of your way. After I check Anthony's wound, of course. " He arched an eyebrow as he walked away shaking his head and muttering something about the universal stubbornness of man.

"So I should probably go and…" Tony stuck his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the kitchen, but he was absolutely mesmerized by the fact that Gibbs refused to avert his gaze.

"Probably," Gibbs said steadily. Whole volumes could have been filled with the words that weren't passing between them in that moment.

After what felt like hours but were probably mere seconds, Tony somehow managed to shake himself loose from the weight of Gibbs' gaze and follow Ducky into the kitchen with only a few backward glances. He caught up with the ME just as he finished placing a pile of tubes and pill containers in a well-ordered row along with a neatly penned sheet of instructions and timetables. Tony didn't miss the slightly disapproving stare. "I'll take care of him, Ducky. I promise."

Ducky drew himself up to his full height and managed to look as menacing as Tony had ever seen him. "You'd better. And yourself as well, Tony. Or you'll have me to answer to."

Tony was pretty sure they weren't just talking about caring for Gibbs' wounds any longer. He nodded his understanding of Ducky's larger implication, grey-green eyes steady and unflinching despite his nerves.

Ducky seemed slightly more satisfied. "He'll need to take these in the next hour. Preferably with some food if you can talk him into it." He held forth one of the many bottles.

"If there's one thing I can do, it's food." Tony brightened a little, indicating the countertops around them that overflowed with baked goods and fruit.

"Having enjoyed many a fine meal of yours, I've no doubt of your particular skills in that area. Or several others, in fact." He clapped a stunned Tony on the back. "Now, let's have a look at that leg, shall we?"

Gibbs had watched as Ducky changed Tony's bandages and announced that the wound seemed to be healing quickly now that it was properly closed up.

"DiNozzos always heal quickly," Tony quipped.

"I'd still keep it dry for the next day or so. It's likely to become quite itchy as it heals further so use some of the hydrocortisone cream if it becomes intolerable but keep your hands off," Ducky warned. "I'll come back and check both of you tomorrow unless I hear something in the meantime, but if you continue to do as well as you are, Tony, I'd say I could take the staples out for you in another few days and replace them with butterfly bandages."

Tony didn't miss the relieved look on Gibbs' face at Ducky's pronouncement. There was something else there too, something he didn't understand. Guilt, maybe? But that didn't make sense.

He didn't have long to dwell on it, however, as Ducky gathered his things and departed. He walked the ME to the elevator, only to return to his apartment and find that Gibbs had disappeared.

It didn't take Tony long to hear the muffled curses and sounds of rattling pill bottles from his kitchen. He found Gibbs at the counter wrestling wearily with a child-proof lid. It appeared that the brace on his wrist and hand was making the container fairly Gibbs-proof as well.

"Let me help you." Tony quickly stepped in and tried to grab the bottle from Gibbs who turned away from him.

"I got it," Gibbs argued stubbornly.

Tony took a breath, realizing this was likely the first of many confrontations of this sort to come. "You don't have it, Gibbs. Listen, part of you staying here is letting me help you, and if we have to go rounds every time you need to take a pill, one of us is going to shoot the other one before the week is out."

Jethro's mouth hardened in frustration and his fingers flexed around the plastic lid, but he didn't protest further.

Taking a chance and resting his hand lightly on Gibbs' wrist, Tony tried again. "Let me help you," he said gently.

Gibbs blinked at him for a moment but whether he was surprised by Tony's bold insistence or his tenderness was an impossible read. With a barely perceptible nod, he handed over the container.

"How many?" The bottle in his hand was only over-the-counter pain reliever but Tony knew he had just won a pretty major battle.

"Three," Gibbs said shortly. "Two of this one." He handed Tony a second bottle and waited.

A moment later, Tony watched while Gibbs downed three Excedrin and his antibiotics with some water, rubbing his eyes as he set the glass back down on the counter to the accompanying clink of fine crystal.

Tony pushed a banana into Gibbs' hand, remembering his instructions from earlier. "Ducky says you need to take those with food."

"Don't suppose there's any point in arguing this one either?" Gibbs sighed, seemingly resigned to his fate as he rubbed at his temple for a moment before peeling the barely ripe fruit.

"Headache?" Tony asked lamely, trying to keep his eyes off of Gibbs' mouth as the other man devoured the rather phallic fruit in 3 efficient bites. Holy fuck. Tony bit the inside of his lip so hard he tasted blood and still felt his cock give an undeniable twitch. Crackers. Next time he would give Gibbs crackers.

Gibbs nodded. "'M fine," he said as he swallowed. "Just need to close my eyes for few minutes. Couch will do." He dropped the peel in the bin near the center island and headed back into the living room before Tony's hand on his arm brought him to an abrupt halt. Gibbs looked at the fingers wrapped gently around his bicep and then up at Tony with an arched brow.

"You can take my bed…the bed, Gibbs." Tony let his hand drop away, afraid he may have overstepped his bounds just a little. "And don't argue. Ducky might not have noticed, but I've seen you favoring your ribs since you came through the door. I won't have you sleeping on my couch in your condition." He was surprised by the steadiness of his own voice. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was not someone you gave orders to under most any circumstance but maybe he was feeling heady with confidence after his victory a moment ago.

Grunting at Tony's insistence, Gibbs did look slightly relieved by the thought. "Need to hit the head first. Pumped me full of so many fluids in that damn hospital I think my eyeballs are floating. You're not gonna try and help me with that too, are you?"

"Think you can take that one on your own, Boss." Tony grinned, happy to see bits of their normal banter shining through after a few awkward moments. "Though I do have something to show you."

Tony was moving just a little faster than Gibbs and was glad that he reached the doors separating his bedroom from the main living area first. His fingers hesitated on the knob but he managed the semblance of nonchalance as he drew the door open and made way for Gibbs. Tony nearly bowled the other man over when he stopped just inside.

Gibbs didn't say a word but it was clear he had noticed the change in décor immediately. He'd been to Tony's apartment often enough to know that a twin bed was standard fare and the bed that now filled half the room was a significant deviation from the status quo as well as a very recent addition.

Unable to ignore the slight widening of Gibbs' eyes as they lit on the new bed, Tony waited for the inevitable. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed, however, when Gibbs merely quirked an amused grin, gave a low chuckle, and then trudged off to the attached bathroom.

"What in the hell is this?" Gibbs' bellow from the en suite startled Tony a moment later.

"Uh, is it safe to come in, Gibbs?" Tony hesitated at the door.

"Get the hell in here, DiNozzo."

Pushing the door open, Tony found Gibbs examining the chair that now inhabited his walk-in shower. "It's for you. The people from the hospital said you would need…"

"I can stand up for five minutes in the shower, Tony," Gibbs interrupted with a grumble, though some of the fire had gone out of his initial blow up.

"Not without getting your cast all wet," Tony argued. "And you can't bend down with your ribs like that so they said I'd probably…uh, that I'd probably have to help you." The last bit came out in a rush.

"They did, huh?" Gibbs had gone from anger to obvious amusement in the space of a sentence.

"Well, they said you could get someone to come in and help but I thought…"

"You thought you'd do it yourself," Gibbs finished.

"I have the number to call and schedule someone if you want," Tony offered, hoping the disappointment didn't show in his voice.

"Nah. You're right. This is better. Guess this thing isn't so bad." He wiggled the chair back and forth, testing its sturdiness. "Any other surprises I should know about before we get there?" Gibbs raised an eyebrow at Tony.

"Open that drawer." Tony pointed to a space below the vanity. For some reason his heart was suddenly in his throat.

Gibbs pulled the handle and let the drawer slide open smoothly. His face was unreadable as he took in the contents. "You did this?"

"Thought you might need a few things to feel at home." Tony had painstakingly recreated the contents of the drawer in Gibbs' own bathroom in his home, right down to the other man's favorite brands of toothpaste, deodorant, shaving soap, comb, and razors. The toothbrush he'd had Abby pick up was even the same color and brand.

"How did you…" Jethro seemed unable to complete the sentence and swallowed hard.

"You trained me, Gibbs. How many times have I stayed the night over the years? Did you really think you could let me loose in your house without me doing some investigating?" Tony tried to keep it light but it was obvious Gibbs was moved by the gesture.

"What else?" Gibbs seemed to instinctively know there was more.

Tony pushed himself off the wall where he had been leaning and led the way to the long dresser that lined one side of the bedroom. "Here." He pulled open two drawers. "Couldn't bring myself to shop at Sears even for you, Gibbs, but I tried to stick with your style.

One drawer contained boxers in assorted colors and soft, white t-shirts, the same cut Gibbs always wore despite Tony's secret desire that the other man develop a liking for V-necks. The other, larger drawer held several folded polo shirts, a couple pairs of sweats and wide-legged jeans to accommodate his cast, and the thing Tony had been the most insistent about, a red, hooded sweatshirt with the Marine's logo, the twin of which now rested somewhere in the rubble of Gibbs' house.

Watching as Gibbs slowly ran his hands over each item in turn and then finally drew out the red sweatshirt, Tony almost felt like he should give him a moment alone. He cleared his throat awkwardly to break the silence that had fallen. "There are khakis and a couple other shirts in the closet. I washed everything. Well, actuality I had Zuzu at the laundry down the street wash everything, but either way, it's all clean and ready to wear."

"You shouldn't have done this, Tony." Jethro's voice was quiet, thick.

"You needed things, Gibbs. You needed things and I needed to do this for you." Tony wasn't exactly sure how to explain and the words coming from his mouth felt wholly inadequate to the moment. "I want you to think of this as your home. For however long you need it to be, okay? That means you get drawers. You get drawers and a bed and closet space and whatever else you need, understand?"

Gibbs didn't respond. When he'd moved aside the sweatshirt, the last of Tony's little surprises had been revealed and his hands dipped back into the drawer to remove the bone handled carving knife and shapeless chunk of wood that lay hidden beneath.

"Oh." Tony shuffled his feet a little uncomfortably. "I didn't have time to build you a basement, so I did the best I could," he said softly, feeling the lump growing to fill his throat as Gibbs' fingers caressed the smooth grain of the wood. He watched as the other man slowly and reverently placed both items atop the sweatshirt then turned to him with searching eyes.

The fingers of Gibbs' good hand found their way without hesitation into the soft hair at the back of Tony's head as he stepped close and drew him into a loose embrace.

Tony didn't know what in the hell was happening but he wasn't about to argue. The feel of Gibbs' palm at his nape, of the other man's body pressed warm and solid against him, brought satisfaction and relief he didn't even know he'd been craving. Mindful of Gibbs' injuries, he placed his hands gingerly on Jethro's hips and let the moment happen. He felt dampness against his neck, felt the warmth of Gibbs' breath against his jaw, his throat, his pulse.

"Thank you, Tony." Gibbs whispered brokenly, lips pressed tight to the curve of his ear.

A few moments later they separated a bit gracelessly, and Tony had to swipe quickly at his own eyes to keep his emotions in check. "The uh…the sheets are clean and everything. I wasn't sure how many pillows you would need but there are a few extra in the closet if you want more. Let me just…" Tony moved to pull back the covers and then turned to Gibbs. "What else can I do?"

"Think you've done more than enough, Tony. Just give me a hand getting in?"

Gibbs actually asking for his help caught Tony by surprise and he nodded lamely as Gibbs sat on the edge of the bed with a wince.

He waited as Tony slid his shoe off and helped him swing both legs up onto the bed with minimal bending of his upper body.

"Ribs?" Tony guessed as Gibbs drew a hissing breath at the movement.

"Hurt like a son of a bitch. I'd give up breathing right now if I could, but I've hurt worse." He let Tony help arrange pillows behind him so that he was semi-propped up.

"Sure you don't want something stronger for the pain? You've got a whole pharmacy out there." If Gibbs was showing this much discomfort, Tony knew he must be in agony.

Jethro shook his head. "Meds will kick in in a minute. Like having my head clear for now." He relaxed back with a deep groan and closed his eyes.

"I'll just be in the other room if you need anything." Tony's eyes raked down Gibbs' body, reluctant to give up the undeniably pleasant sight of him in his new bed.

"Stay for a minute?" Gibbs' voice was tired and his eyes only half-opened, but the request was clear.

"If you want me to." Tony moved closer to the side of the bed, unsure exactly what was being asked of him.

"Here." Jethro's hand moved to the spot on his other side atop the mattress.

"You sure? I don't want to move the bed. You almost look comfortable." Gibbs' face definitely looked more peaceful than Tony had seen it in the last few days.

"More comfortable when you're close. Hurts less," Gibbs said sleepily.

Mind reeling from the shock of that casual admission, Tony moved slowly around the bed and crawled up to settle on his side a respectable distance from Gibbs. "This okay?"

"Fine." Gibbs' eyes remained closed.

Tony was almost certain Gibbs had fallen asleep until he spoke again a moment later.

"You gonna tell me what's with this bed, Tony?"

A dozen witty retorts and half-truths ran through Tony's head. "Sometimes you need a change," he answered softly, watching Gibbs' face for any reaction.

Jethro turned his head slowly and contemplated Tony through half-lidded eyes. "Sometimes you do." Gibbs' hand found Tony's atop the sheet and twined their fingers loosely as his eyes drifted shut.

Tony was in trouble.

He woke with a start to a semi-dark room after clearly dosing off despite his best intentions. Tony had no idea how long he'd slept, but judging by the deep amber color of the light, it must have been at least two hours since Gibbs had so casually taken his hand and drifted off to sleep.

His hand was cold now, Gibbs' fingers gone, but he could tell by the way the mattress sloped away on one side that he was not alone. Raising his head, Tony found slightly sleepy blue eyes studying him from a few inches away.

Bolting upright, Tony came fully awake in an instant. "Sorry, Gibbs. Didn't mean to fall asleep on you." He was off the bed and on his feet before the words finished falling from his lips.

"'S okay. You needed to sleep. So did I." Gibbs didn't move. He merely watched Tony fidget nervously around the room.

"But I shouldn't have. Not in your bed." Tony was talking and words were coming out but his mind was racing with the thought that this was Gibbs in his bed. A bed Tony had been in himself until a moment ago.

"Seems like there was more than enough room. Slept better than I have in days." Gibbs stretched as much as his body would allow. "That a problem for you?"

Tony's feet were suddenly rooted to the hardwood. "It's not a problem for you?" he asked incredulously.

"No," Gibbs said steadily, "it's not."

They watched each other across the intervening space. A thousand questions were rolling around Tony's brain but he couldn't bring himself to ask them. Not yet. "It's late," he muttered when he trusted his words again. "I should probably get us some dinner."

Gibbs let the diversion hang there a moment and finally nodded, pushing himself up awkwardly from the mound of his pillows. "Dinner would be good," he agreed, allowing the discussion of sleeping arrangements to come to a close for the time being.

Tony kept dinner simple. Steak and potatoes, done just the way Gibbs liked. Tony didn't have a fireplace that was good for cooking, but he'd learned to adapt with a cast-iron pan and gas stove and Gibbs didn't seem to have any problem bolting it down. He had rolled his eyes just a bit when Tony'd delivered the meat pre-cut to avoid watching him struggle with his splinted hand.

It seemed odd to be eating at a table. So often they sat side by side on Gibbs' living room couch, or hunched over plates while leaning against the kitchen counter. Now he had time to watch, had time to become mesmerized by the way Gibbs' full lips curled almost delicately around his fork, how the muscles of his jaw stretched, and the long column of his throat bobbed with each bite. Tony's mouth was watering and he was pretty sure it wasn't entirely due to the food.

The silence that had been happily filled with the sound of scraped plates and chewing grew heavier as their plates were emptied. Once Tony had cleared away the slim remnants, it was Gibbs who took the lead.

"Suppose we should probably have that talk before things go too much further," Jethro announced without preamble.

The words stopped Tony in his tracks as he came out of the kitchen and the irony that it would be Gibbs to say them was not at all lost. "We don't have to. It can wait."

"Don't think it can. And I don't want it to."

Tony's dinner was threatening to make a rapid exit and he swallowed hard, trying to calm his churning gut. He swallowed the dryness in his mouth and nodded, waiting for Gibbs as they moved into the living room.

Gibbs chose a spot in the center of the couch leaving Tony no choice but to go to either side. He pulled in the ottoman so Gibbs could prop up his leg and then hugged the arm rest as he awkwardly settled into his own position, body turned toward Jethro.

Tony had never seen Gibbs nervous before but there was no denying that the other man seemed slightly more fidgety than normal. He watched as Gibbs rubbed the palm of his open hand against his jeans as if drying it, picked at an imagined piece of lint on the back of the couch, and finally looked anywhere but at Tony before finally clearing his throat.

"I may have gotten hit on the head, and I may have passed out a few times, but I remember the important parts about the other night, Tony. Don't think I would forget about that." Gibbs head came up as the words settled between them. So much for easing into things. Gibbs had just chosen to dive right into the deep end.

"Think part of me was hoping you might," Tony admitted.

"Meant what I said," Gibbs said simply. "Know you did too. And don't try to blow it off as some adrenalin-fueled, heat-of-the-moment bullshit. We know each other too well for that."

Leave it to Gibbs to call his bluff before he could even make it. "I did mean it. Wish I'd had the balls to tell you before you almost went and died on me though."

"Wish I'd had the balls to tell you I already knew," Gibbs answered quietly.

As awed as he was by Gibbs' candor and the rapid-fire way he kept dropping little bombs that shook his very foundations, Tony found that his eyes kept drifting invariably to Jethro's mouth every time the other man spoke. He licked his lips unconsciously and tried to steer his mind away from the feel of that little parcel of skin against his own and the taste that still inhabited his memory. Talk. This moment was about talking.

"I would have died in that house if you hadn't come when you did, Tony. Don't think I don't know it and don't think I'll ever forget it." Gibbs' hand came to rest lightly against Tony's thigh. "But if something more comes out of it, I can't say I'm completely sorry it had to happen."

"I kissed you," Tony blurted out. The warmth of Jethro's hand through thick denim sent his head spinning and his lips moving before he had a chance to even think about what he was saying.

"Excuse me?" Gibbs looked at Tony as if he had just grown a third head.

"I kissed you, Gibbs. Back in the house? I mean, I'm not even sure if it counts because you weren't exactly conscious at the time and I just…"

"You just kissed me?" Jethro finished incredulously.

"Yeah." Tony drew back as far as he could from Gibbs without actually moving off the couch and waited.

"And what the hell are you doing now?" If Gibbs was confused by Tony's sudden admission he seemed doubly confused by his current behavior.

"Uh…waiting for you to hit me? Or maybe kill me?" Tony looked at Gibbs through a half open eye, still flinching.

"Jesus, I'm not gonna hit you, Tony. Relax." Jethro ran a hand through his hair and huffed out a deep breath.

"You're not?" Tony relaxed, but reluctantly, assuming this must be some kind of clever ruse on Gibbs' part.

"No."

"And no killing either? Not even when I'm sleeping later? It was just a spur of the moment thing, Gibbs, and I swear I'll never do it again. I just thought you might be…well, I thought you might be dying and…" Tony really wanted to stop his mouth from moving but he didn't seem to have the ability right now.

"How?" Gibbs interrupted.

"How, what?" Tony blinked at him.

"How did you kiss me?"

"How did I..? Why the hell does that matter? I just did it. And I'm really sorry. Did I mention how sorry I was?" This had to be the most bizarre moment of his life. Had to.

"Show me." The instruction was steady and clear.

"Show you..?" Tony's head felt thick and muddled. Surely Gibbs couldn't be asking him what it sounded like he was asking him.

"Show me how you kissed me," Jethro's voice was deep and heavy, laced with desire and more than a hint of curiosity and amusement.

"Like, on my hand or something?" The world was spinning. Tony really needed the world to stop spinning.

"On my mouth, for Christ sake, DiNozzo. You need a written invitation? Or maybe I should just pass out again." Gibbs hadn't moved but his body language was somehow more relaxed, more open than it had been. An invitation of sorts all on its own.

"Is this a trick?" Tony asked with wary, narrowed eyes. He wanted desperately to believe this was happening but his mind simply refused to accept.

"No tricks. Just hardly seems fair that you got to have a kiss I can't even remember." He placed his hand back on Tony's thigh.

"Well, I suppose when you put it that way…" Tony started with a smile of playboy bravado but it quickly wilted under the heat in Gibbs' eyes. Oh.

Leaning forward somewhat awkwardly and completely unsure what to do with his hands, Tony placed an arm over the back of the couch to support himself, figuring it was probably the safest bet at the moment. His body tensed as he moved closer…closer…mere inches from Gibbs' face now. The other man hadn't moved but remained passive, lips slightly parted in apparent anticipation. At the last second Tony closed his eyes, closed the distance, and prayed.

If kissing Gibbs while he was unconscious had been memorable, kissing him while he was awake, soft and welcoming, and oh so warm was absolutely dizzying. Tony tried to keep in mind the seriousness of that first embrace, to keep his hands from finding their way automatically into Gibbs' hair, but as Jethro's breath ghosted across his lips, the hand against his thigh crept just that much higher, control was a hard won thing.

Keeping a tight grip on his racier impulses, Tony brushed his lips gently across Gibbs' mouth in a few tender yet fairly chaste sweeps and then drew back just enough to gauge Jethro's reaction.

"That how you kiss a dying man?" Gibbs muttered hotly against his open mouth, fingers curling against Tony's thigh.

"You had something else in mind?" Tony asked breathlessly, unable to keep the corners of his lips from turning up just slightly or his cock from thickening in his jeans.

Gibbs gave a surprisingly needy grunt and pressed his hand up over Tony's stomach to clasp the loose material of his shirt and pull him close. The collision of their mouths was more forceful this time, though Tony was clearly being mindful of his injuries and holding back.

When Tony felt the soft velvet of Gibbs' tongue brush his lips, he opened obediently, sank into the inviting heat of Jethro's mouth, and finally let his fingers wander where they wanted. The velvety stubble at Gibbs' nape drew his fingertips like a magnet as did the cut of his jaw, the perfect shell of his ear, the throb of his pulse. Tony wanted touch on a grander scale but he would settle for this micro-universe for the moment as long as it meant Gibbs kept kissing him like he was the most delicious feast he'd every devoured.

Blood pounded in Tony's ears and his cock had gone from shyly interested to painfully hard the moment Gibbs' fingers had slipped between the buttons of his shirt and found his heated skin. He was so caught up in it that he couldn't stop the little noise of disappointment that escaped when Jethro suddenly pulled back.

"The door," Gibbs murmured against Tony's open mouth, still nipping playfully at his lips.

"What door?" He swiped his nose against Jethro's cheek.

"Your door. Someone's knocking." Gibbs finally pulled away with obvious reluctance, smiling as his eyes lit on Tony's lap and the noticeable bulge beneath the stiff denim.

"They'll go away." Tony leaned forward toward Gibbs again even as the insistent pounding resumed.

"Doesn't seem so." Gibbs was far too amused by what was happening for Tony's liking.

With a deep sigh, Tony pushed himself up off the couch. "No moving until I get rid of them," he said pointedly to Gibbs.

"Not going anywhere. You might want to…" Gibbs gestured toward Tony's obscenely protruding erection.

Blushing furiously, Tony adjusted himself as best as he could, succeeding only in adding to Gibbs' obvious entertainment. Giving up and untucking his shirt, he moved toward the entryway where light but persistent knocking continued intermittently. "Coming," he called, scowling at Gibbs with an 'I hope you're happy' look as he nearly tripped up the landing in his befuddlement.

"This had really better be good," Tony muttered under his breath as he yanked the door open.

Shit.

Thank you so much for reading!

Kat and Probie

**bonus points to anyone who can identify the brief and obscure West Wing reference I dropped in here**