CHAPTER 6 - Breakup

Gibbs put his hands behind his head, lazily looking at Tony. "Hmmm."

"What?"

"You up for another round? I don't leave for an hour."

Tony, still reeling from Gibbs' acceptance of his admission about sleeping with Bayar, stared for a long moment before gathering his wits together. "Um, I'm really sore. I mean… you're not exactly… small, you know." He might protest a bit but he'd never say no. As if Gibbs didn't know that.

Gibbs gave his cock, already half erect, a couple of lazy strokes and casually suggested, in a deep velvety voice that Tony would swear he'd never have thought would come out of Gibbs' mouth, "You could fuck me, if you want."

After closing his mouth, Tony cleared his throat and made certain he'd heard right. "I can… fuck you?"

"Yeah, but don't take all night about it."

"On it!" Of course, the thought of being able to fuck Gibbs gave Tony a raging hard-on. He nervously asked Gibbs to get on all fours, ass in the air, and was so eager to mount his boss he squeezed out too much lube. It was dripping down Gibbs' ass and thighs, so they were slipping around for a few minutes before Gibbs made an impatient sound.

Remembering that was his first time, Tony gave Jethro, his lover (that's how he was thinking of him now: Jethro, his lover) a pillow for under his chest, and started working his fingers, one at a time, into his hole. By the time he had inserted three fingers, and had stretched him pretty well (damn, he was tight), Jethro was moaning loudly. Tony took hold of his hard-as-fuck cock, got lined up, and ever-so-slowly entered the older man. The first couple of inches proved to be difficult, and Jethro grunted and swore, but after taking a deep breath he growled at Tony to move. Like Tony was going to say no?

Topping Jethro was one hell of a ride, and this time it was Jethro groaning with every thrust, gripping the headboard and crying out, "Fuck! Fuck!" as he came in ropey streams of cum, shooting all over the sheets. Tony soon followed suit, shaking through his climax, panting into Jethro's neck until he collapsed on top of him.

When he awoke the early morning light was streaming in, and Jethro was gone.

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •

After dashing home to shower and change into fresh clothes, Tony broke the speed limit in order to get to work on time. Since Gibbs was out of the office for two days, and he was in charge, he could have arrived ten minutes after the rest of the team and nobody would have cared. But Tony was a bit of a stickler about being in early, so he was glad to see that Bishop and McGee were right behind him. Their borrowed agent, Dale Carney, hurried in, carrying a tray of coffees and pastries.

Tony sent Bishop and Carney out to double-check some witness statements from a previous case that needed to be wrapped up, so it was just him and McGee at their desks most of that day.

Tony had trouble concentrating on the boring tasks in front of him. He thought about Gibbs flying to California, knowing only that the trip had something to do with DEA Agent Luis Mitchell's late father. And he reflected on the things Gibbs (Jethro) had said to him last night, including that he was crazy in love with him. He was still reeling from that. And he thought about how Gibbs had been so sure that he was in love with him, too; but was he? He tried really hard to suppress his memories of the things they'd done in bed (like being tied to the headboard with Jethro's heavy leather belt while Jethro bit his ass; or Jethro's ass muscles clenching around his cock as he shuddered and came) – because it sure didn't take much for his cock to start twitching.

McGee kept sending curious looks at him, which he studiously ignored. As if he couldn't feel his eyes upon him. Finally, Tony had had enough. "You trying to melt me with the Vulcan death glare or something?"

"It's a Vulcan death grip, not a glare," McGee corrected. "Unless it's from Gibbs, and then I guess it's okay to call it a death stare."

Tony looked up from his screen and waited.

"Oh. Sorry. Only… you've been kind of quiet and your face…"

"What about my face?" Tony asked, worrying that he had something on it.

"Earlier, you were sort of flushed, and when I checked to see if you were okay a few minutes later, you were back to normal. Then it happened again…" McGee asked hesitantly, "You all right, Tony?"

Tony felt his face getting hot under McGee's stare, but he smiled as effortlessly as possible and said, "Must be the allergy medication I took this morning. Doesn't seem to agree with me."

Now Tim seemed truly concerned. "You should see Ducky. Allergy medications, and their interactions with other meds can cause a drop in blood pressure and–"

Tony rose abruptly. "You're right, and I'm going to head down to Ducky right now. Why don't you take a break? Maybe even a long lunch. You deserve it." The minute those words were out of his mouth, Tony's brain replayed a video of himself sucking on Agah Bayar's sizeable dick in the back of his limo during one of his long lunches, and his face grew even hotter. He waved a hand at McGee and headed for the stairs before the agent could call in the paramedics.

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •

Never intending to see Ducky, Tony walked into Abby's lab without any specific purpose. He just needed a break and thought he might be able to relax for half an hour on the soft couch she kept in the back office. He'd had barely two hours sleep last night, and was already fading.

"What's wrong?" were the first words out of Abby's mouth.

Tony slumped on the couch and sighed. "I'm thinking of breaking up with Zoe."

"Oh no, you can't break up with her," Abby protested. She sat beside Tony and gave him a big hug. "You're such a great couple, both smart and good-looking, with cute nicknames for each other…"

Tony rested his head on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. It was nice that everyone cared enough to be worried about his health, his future and even his love life, but right now he really needed to be left alone. He wasn't breaking up with Zoe because of last night, because of finally having sex with Jethro, he told himself. It was time, and he'd been avoiding talking to her about it.

To Abby he said, "I'm surprised it's lasted as long as it has. We don't get much time together with our schedules, and I the bloom is definitely off the roses. We can still be friends," he said. Zoe wasn't one to hold a grudge and they'd been friends and colleagues a lot longer than lovers, he reasoned.

"Friends? Whatever you do, don't tell her that! It's the last thing any girl getting dumped wants to hear," Abby said, concerned. "Oh! What about Senior? Tony, he's going to be so disappointed. He was expecting grandkids, and he told me he was sure Zoe was the one, and–"

Opening his eyes, Tony asked, "Wait a minute! Grandkids? Why have you been talking to my father? Never mind. I don't want to know." He waved his hand to indicate this discussion wasn't going any further, and closed his eyes again.

Abby retreated into the lab, and it wasn't long before he heard McBusybody's voice talking with her in low tones. Tony knew they were talking about him, but he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it.

He didn't like the idea of Abby being chummy with his dad, and he definitely didn't like the idea she'd been talking to Senior about his relationship with Zoe. Who knew what they were scheming?

Senior had been around more than usual the past few months. He'd tried to take Zoe out to lunch, and had apparently dropped by her apartment a few times. She lived all the way out in North Bethesda, so Senior's excuse that he was 'just passing by' just didn't cut it.

Zoe had told him his dad had come by a couple of times, and she'd made the excuse she'd been too busy with work to go out with him. She'd apologized to Tony but he'd assured her the apology wasn't necessary. Zoe had asked him what his dad wanted with her, and seemed put off by Senior's pushy personality.

What could Tony tell her except Senior thought he could manipulate his son's future? "He wants me to settle down with you, and expects us to buy a house big enough so he can move in," he'd joked. It was probably close to the truth though.

But now Tony pushed those thoughts aside. He didn't want to think about Zoe, or his father. Instead, he focused on what Jethro had told him last night, that he'd loved him since he'd first seen him. Yeah, that made Tony feel warm and fuzzy deep inside, even though he didn't understand where Gibbs' surprise confession was coming from. It had been quite the revelation, because even though Gibbs had occasionally shown an exasperated sort of affection for him, there had never been any indication he cared for him. Loved him. Like crazy. That's what he'd said. God, it was all too much to deal with, and he was so tired…

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •

Jethro came in, smiling in a predatory way. The lab was cast in darkness; Abby was gone and they were alone. Tony tried to speak but although his lips moved, he couldn't make himself be heard. Jethro reached out and ran a hand over Tony's hair, then pulled his head forward, unzipping himself at the same time. His cock, huge and erect, dripping with pre-cum, was pushed against Tony's lips, Jethro encouraging him to open his mouth wide to accommodate its girth and length. God, it was big, too big, and tasted salty and bitter. Tony didn't like people putting things in his mouth at the best of times, but all of a sudden he found himself eager to suck on the head.

Jethro gently held Tony's head while guiding him to take in his cock, one slow inch at a time. It was too much, Tony thought, but he wrapped a hand around the base of the cock and did his best to relax his throat. He swallowed convulsively, gagging a bit, but instead of pulling out, Jethro started fucking his mouth in small, barely controlled thrusts. Tony could hear Jethro breathing hard through his nose, making soft noises every time Tony sucked a little harder and explored him with his tongue even though his vision was graying out from lack of oxygen. Just when he started to lose consciousness and thought that this was one hell of a way to die, Jethro grabbed a fistful of his hair and thrust deeper, crying out as he came down Tony's throat.

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •

A loud ringing startled Tony awake. Fuck, it was his phone. He coughed a couple of times and licked his lips, but there was no trace of Jethro's taste to be found. He was at work. Must have fallen asleep. The phone rang insistently. He sat up, disoriented, and saw Abby was in the lab, working on something, and daylight streaming through the windows. Jethro… Gibbs… shit, it had been a dream. He tried to shake it off but his cock was hard, pushing against the confines of the dress pants he'd worn that day. While pressing on the bulge in his pants, willing his hard-on to diminish, he pulled out his phone and answered the call. "DiNozzo," he said, trying to sound fully awake.

"Tony, I'm glad I reached you," a female voice said.

It took him a second to recognize her voice. "Hey, Joanna," he said. It wasn't great timing but he was always happy to hear from CIA officer Teague, with whom he'd partnered to track down Budd, the head of the Calling. Budd had not only been the piece of crap behind the deaths of hundreds of people, but he'd also been behind the bombing that had killed Ned Dorneget, Joanna Teague's son.

"Don't worry, this isn't business," Joanna assured him. "I've been going through Ned's belongings and I found some things I think his friends might like to have. If you could give them to McGee and the others…"

"That's really good of you. Of course I'll do it," Tony replied, feeling sadness over Dorney's death sweep over him. "It must be difficult, going through his stuff. Do you… need any help?"

"You're sweet, Tony, but no, I'm done. There is one thing though. Ned left something for you, with a note, and he made a request I take you out to lunch and give it to you."

Tony sniffed and took a moment to collect himself. "Okay, I can do it tomorrow, if we don't catch a case. I can't be out of the office too long though. Gibbs is away until late tomorrow, and I have to at least give the appearance of keeping an eye on things."

"Is Baccarat good for you, Thursday at one?" Joanna asked.

Baccarat was his favorite restaurant, and he'd gone there once with Dorney, who'd loved it. It was styled after a French casino of the same name, and had James Bond memorabilia on the walls, as well as Bond-themed food and drinks. "I'll be there. I'm looking forward to it."

After Tony disconnected the call he left the forensics lab and went straight to the restroom to splash water on his face. At least his erection had gone down. What disturbed him more than having a dream at work, in which he was being choked to the point of passing out by Gibbs' big cock (when neither of them had actually sucked on the other's cock yet), was that he'd thought of Gibbs as Jethro throughout the whole thing. Calling the boss by his first name (actually his middle name) seemed intimate and suggested a closeness he wasn't quite comfortable with, even if they had had one hell of a marathon of sex just last night. Still, no matter what name Tony called him, the thought of death by Jethro's cock was rather alarming.

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •

It was surprising that his relationship with Zoe had lasted for as long as it had. Of course they had a history, and their relationship was based upon that special kind of closeness that came with being fellow cops. They'd worked together when they were both on the Philadelphia PD, and yes, they'd slept together – but nothing serious. After reuniting recently, they picked up where they'd left off. What he and Zoe had was good, and not demanding; he didn't have to work too hard at it, and neither did she. They were comfortable but not… passionate.

Their sex life had been on the wane recently. Thinking back, Tony realized they hadn't slept together since… had it really been a week? She hadn't said anything, or made any move to stay over, either. But then, neither had he.

Being familiar with someone and having sex on the side because it was convenient wasn't working for him. Tony didn't know exactly what he wanted, but this wasn't it.

Maybe it was because he was getting older, but Tony had started thinking about what kind of person constituted the right kind of partner for him. He wanted someone who cared about and understood him, who was loyal and truthful, someone he could count on, who'd take care of him when he got hurt, comfort him if he was troubled. Someone he could talk to, real discussions, not just shop talk. He wanted someone he cared about, above all else, someone he could be himself with, who wouldn't judge him too harshly when he messed up.

He laughed bitterly at that. As if there was anyone like that in the world, much less anyone who might care about him enough to actually stick with him, no matter what. Lately he'd wondered if he'd end up alone; it wouldn't surprise him if he did.

Besides, committed relationships were nothing but trouble. He knew this for a fact, having witnessed the downfall of several of his own father's marriages. How quickly they went from 'in love forever' to hating each other's guts and heading straight for the divorce courts. Being responsible for someone else's happiness was a tough job, and besides, marriage was an outdated institution. If anyone believed that happily-ever-after was a reality, well, they were delusional. As soon as you lost respect for each other and said things with the sole intention of hurting the one you're supposed to love, the whole thing only had one way to go: downhill. Not to mention all the legal, financial and emotional crap that came with divorce.

Tony idly wondered if a long-term relationship with a man would have a better chance of success than it would with a woman. Either way, he was enough of a realist to know that romantic love and being together forever with either sex was unlikely to be on his agenda.

Naturally, getting married to a woman would please his dad no end. Considering Senior had been married and divorced a handful of times – was he up to number six now? – it was weird that he expected his son to settle down and have a bunch of kids, and a house in the 'burbs that came with an SUV, a dog and a whopping great mortgage. Just thinking about that scenario made Tony shudder.

He was going to have to have a conversation with Zoe. Maybe he'd say something like, "Hey, we've had a good run, but I think it's time, don't you?" Or, "It's for the best. You deserve someone who'll settle down with you… and we both know that isn't going to be me." Splitting up was the best move for both of them; surely she would see that. Even if Zoe wanted out of their companionable alliance, chances were she'd act affronted at being rejected, and there'd be one doozey of a fight. He'd have to be sympathetic but firm. Dig in his heels. Walk away with dignity.

Tony sighed. He should have stuck to one-night stands with random strangers, he thought, shaking his head. So much easier.

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •

The break-up did not go well at all, and yes, they had a fight, and yes, he yelled back, and damn it, maybe they should have broken up earlier if the result was fireworks in bed.

They tumbled into her bedroom, not stopping to turn on the lights, stripping hurriedly, kissing and wrestling to see who'd end up on top. Only, just before they consummated their break-up, Tony realized he couldn't go through with it. He envisioned Jethro, shaking his head in disappointment and turning his back on him. Tony pushed Zoe off him and cried, "I can't! I can't do this…" He scrambled out of bed, falling on his ass in his haste.

Zoe demanded, "What the hell is going on with you?" She flipped on the light on her nightstand, and for the first time that night, she saw Tony's naked body. There was no way she could miss seeing the love bites Gibbs had marked him with, including the deep one on his shoulder that was turning a nasty shade of purple. It didn't help any that the bruises on his hips were made by rather large hands, and there were some questionable marks adorning his ass.

"What the fuck? Who did that to you? Are those bite marks? And what is… Oh my God!" Zoe yelled before punching Tony in the gut and pushing him out of her bedroom.

Tony apologized through her locked bedroom door, and he felt like the worst kind of person imaginable when she opened it (briefly) to toss his clothes in his face, and she asked through tears, "Why did you even start with me if you always go back to men? You know I want to have kids before it's too late! Now you've ruined everything!"

Years ago, when they were both a bit drunk, he had admitted to her that he was drawn to men. At the time it had seemed like a bright idea, because it meant she had no need to be jealous over any women he flirted with. Tony's reasoning was that he was more likely to look twice at a guy, not at a girl. But it had backfired and Zoe had freaked out, saying, "Great, so now I not only have women as competition, but men, too!"

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •

Tony slunk out of Zoe's apartment, and beat himself up all the way home. Only, he realized that his actions, pulling back from having one last fuck with her, had been because he'd felt it would be disloyal to Jethro. Even though Tony had cheated on Zoe by sleeping with his boss. And yet his brain was telling him he couldn't sleep with his girlfriend because he belonged with Jethro now. How twisted was that?

It was another night of little-to-no sleep. In the morning Tony had to dab a bit of concealer, aptly named Night Out, under his eyes to disguise the dark circles before going to work.

Bishop called in sick, and they didn't get any new cases, so Tony gave Dale Carney some busy work to do. A couple of their cases were heading to court and they needed to make sure all the evidence as well as accompanying paperwork was in order.

When Tony looked up he caught McGee frowning at him, openly concerned over his appearance. Apparently wearing your best-fitting designer suit and a crimson tie, and a few dabs of Night Out under your eyes didn't hide the fact you were a mess.

Finally, it was time to leave for his meeting with Joanna Teague. As Tony rose from his desk, holstering his firearm, he told McGee he had a business meeting to attend, and he'd be back in a couple of hours.

McGee was quick and blocked Tony before he could escape. "You'd tell me if there's anything I can do, right?"

"I'm just going to a lunch meeting."

"You can't hide from me, Tony."

"I'm fine, McMother. Haven't slept well the past couple of nights, that's all. Some personal stuff. Not a big deal."

"Well… okay. If you want, we could maybe watch a movie marathon on TV this weekend. Your choice," McGee generously offered.

"Thanks, Tim," Tony replied sincerely. "But I think I'm going to take it easy and get caught up on sleep. Raincheck though, so long as we don't have to watch all 79 episodes of the original Star Trek again. How about Twilight Zone?"

McGee smiled, and agreed. "When is the boss coming back?"

"Flight arrives at 1700," Tony said. He intended to be on his way home just about the time Gibbs was picking his luggage up off the carousel.

◊ • ◊ • ◊ •