Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I don't make any money from this.
Warnings: This story will contains elements of BDSM, Slash, Strong language, Threesome/Three-way (rated M for a reason, guys). Don't like, don't read.
A/N: This story was requested by a very nice lady who wishes to remain anonymous. She wanted a story with a long-term, established relationship between Tony and Gibbs who discover that their not-so-innocent Probie is writing another story about them, this one involving a little "Deeper Six"(...*wink* you get it? Haha…). So, of course, I said yes. This will be divided into three chapters/parts, and I hope to finish it by the end of the month. Any encouragement will help tremendously. I am still taking requests, if you care to partake. Thank you for reading.
Part One
As soon as Agent Anthony Dinozzo walked into the bullpen, he could feel the tension. Fellow agents Timothy McGee and Ziva David were subtly hidden behind their desks, not even looking up when he arrived. McGee was hunched over his computer, furiously snapping keys, while David was all but buried in her filing cabinet. The few agents that weren't at their desks had their heads in folders, furiously marching across the open floor. Slowing down his pace, Tony suddenly felt like prey walking into an inevitable trap.
Before Tony even reached his desk, a voice boomed through the room.
"DINOZZO!" On the second floor balcony stood Leroy Jethro Gibbs, looking even more ticked off than usual. "Director's office. Now."
"What'd I do?" Tony whispered, mentally going through the past few weeks in his head trying to think of anything that would warrant a meeting with the director. Looking to his partner, she only gave him an unsympathetic glance before returning to the stack of papers in her lap.
"Gibbs got called in to be Acting Director until Shepard gets back." McGee muttered under his breath, covering it with a fit of coughs and a hand to his mouth.
Shit, Tony thought as he clambered up the stairs, of all the days to stop for breakfast.
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The moment the young agent stepped in the office and closed the door, his boss laid into him.
"Care to tell me what stopped you from coming in on time?"
"Ran into traffic…" Gibbs stared at him, raising a brow. "…besides, I'm only fifteen minutes-"
"Twenty minutes late, Senior Field Agent Dinozzo." Gibbs interrupted. Just as Tony opened his mouth to make another excuse, he suddenly found himself being pushed against the door. Rough arms kept him pinned down, a warm mouth pressed over his own kept him silent.
"Traffic, huh? Because I taste french toast and…" Gibbs huffed, his tongue darting across the top of his lip. Tilting his head, Tony closed his eyes as Gibbs attacked him with a sudden slew of tantalizingly quick, deep kisses. "…and strawberries."
"If it makes you feel better, I did run into traffic after I stopped for breakfast." Tony panted, his eyes still closed. "I thought we agreed no us at work."
"This is just me saying 'morning' to you." Gibbs smirked, pushing himself off of the other man.
"Morning, really? I'd love to know how you say 'good morning'." Tony smiled, straightening his shirt. "Heard you're Acting Director until Sheppard returns."
This earned him an eye roll and a disgruntled grunt.
"If she ever does." Gibbs muttered, walking back to his desk. It was already overflowing with files, papers, forms, and everything else that accompanied the never-ending stream of paperwork. Picking up a single file, Gibbs handed it to the younger man. "You're in charge of the team until then."
"Sure thing." Tony bit back a chuckle at Gibb's sour face, suddenly reminded of a child forced to share his toy because his mother had told him to. Glancing at the file for a moment, he looked back up at the older man who was now sitting behind his desk, seemingly resigned to his duties as supervisor.
"You know there is one major benefit to being director." Tony grinned, circling around the desk.
"What's that?" Gibbs asked, eyes closed with his head fallen back. When a very familiar weight fell onto him, he cracked a glance only to find Tony now sitting on his lap.
"You now have an office with many, many flat surfaces, and we both have a lunch break."
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As luck would have it, neither had time for their scheduled break. Tony, along with the team, was stuck at a crime scene fighting for custody with the local law enforcement. Apparently the situation was being 'handled', which Gibbs could only hope was true. The remainder of his day was spent in MTAC, taking point on several meetings between analysts and personnel as the go-between. By the time the consultation was handled, evening had arrived and it was already dark outside.
"Go. Paperwork's not going anywhere." Gibbs ordered, sending the MTAC operators home. Taking a moment, he remained seated a few more minutes rubbing at the headache that had settled at his temples. Hours of staring at that goddamn screen had his eyes burning and the relief of the darkness was nothing short of amazing. Just as he felt himself begin to drift off, the sound of the door opening echoed in the relatively small room. Gibbs started to stir until he caught the person's scent, a cologne he recognized in a heartbeat. Once again, a weight settled across his lap.
"Hey." A warm voice breathed into his neck, pressing a string of kisses above his collar. Opening his eyes, Gibbs was met with a very disheveled looking agent. His hair was mussed like he had repeatedly ran his fingers through it. His designer shirt was untucked and the top few buttons were undone. Pulling him back, Gibbs suddenly noticed there were bruises forming over his slightly swollen knuckles.
"What happened with the case?" Gibbs frowned, raising the younger man's damaged hands closer for inspection.
"Caught the guy." Tony smiled, nonchalantly shrugging as he tried to take his hands away. Unsuccessfully. "C'mon, let's go home."
Gibbs frown turned into a scowl as he turned the man's hand over to see the palms were scraped raw as well. The older man spread open his lover's hands over his own and spread kisses over the damaged skin as if it was medicine and would make everything better.
"He's in custody, Gibbs." Tony said, leaning into the older man, not really believing his injury was worth the attention it was receiving but secretly appreciating it anyway. Standing up, he reclaimed his hand and used it to pull up Gibbs. "C'mon, you can kiss me anywhere you want when we get home."
The drive to their house – Gibb's house technically speaking – was a quick one. Gibbs was doing his best to focus on what he needed to get done tomorrow, quietly grateful that Tony had insisted on driving. The younger man was just as concentrated on the road but still enjoying the hand that had absentmindedly settled over his thigh.
Within minutes, they arrived at their destination. Hooking his arm around the younger man, Gibbs walked them inside. Flipping on lights as they walked out of the foyer and into the living room, Tony pulled the older man's arm tighter around his neck. The young man was anxious in picking up where they had left off that morning.
"Sorry we missed our lunch date."
"S'okay." Gibbs smiled wearily, leaning in until their lips met. Tony began pulling off their coats, allowing them to slide to the floor. The older man tilted his head, opening his mouth slightly.
And then…
Nothing.
Tony opened his eyes, confused to see Gibbs trudging upstairs while rubbing at the kinks in his neck. Following him, Tony was glad to see they had ended up in the master bathroom. He watched as his lover turned on the shower and began undressing.
"Want some company?" Tony smiled seductively, making a show out of unbuttoning his own shirt.
"Not tonight, babe. Too tired." Gibbs shook his head, stepped into the stall and closed the glass door behind him.
Left standing there alone, Tony was stunned.
Stunned into silence.
Silence.
In the years they had been together, Tony could not even count on one hand the times Gibbs had turned him down for sex. It had never happened! The man's libido was incomparable. It matched his perfectly. They easily went three, four rounds when Tony spent the night, usually more on the weekends when they knew there was a snowball's chance in hell that they would even leave the house.
What the hell? Tony thought to himself as he returned to the bedroom, How did he go from kissing me, to 'not tonight-ing' me? Me?!
Pacing for a moment, Tony decided to try again. Dimming the lights to a soft glow, he finished taking off his clothes throwing them into the hamper in the closet, before turning down the bed. Choosing only to lay under the sheet, the thinnest layer of the bedding, he folded the rest over the foot of the bed, allowing a very clear outline of his body to be seen. He even went so far as to pull out a condom and lube and place it strategically on Gibb's nightstand. Completely naked and displayed, he waited patiently for Gibbs to come out of the bathroom. He better take the hint, Tony thought as he heard the shower turn off, I'm all but wearing a sign that says 'fuck me'. Another few minutes left Tony stewing and beyond frustrated. When the older man finally left the bathroom, he was dressed and in the process of removing his watch. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he dropped it on the nightstand and leaned over to his lover. Feeling the dip in the bed as if Gibbs was reaching for something, Tony was relieved to feel the man's lips press against his own. Finally, Tony thought, slanting his mouth to invite the man to deepen the kiss.
But he never did.
Gibbs pulled away, muttered a 'night', flipped onto his side, and went to sleep. It took Tony a moment to recover, utter shock choking him up. He glanced at the nightstand only to see the man had replaced his subtle 'insinuations' back into the drawer. Now fuming, Tony threw the covers off of him glad when they fell over the bed and onto the floor. Not that Gibbs even noticed, his soundness only driving the younger man to become even more upset. Yanking clothes out of the dresser, not noticing the jeans he picked were a pair he particularly didn't like and a ratted old tee shirt that wasn't even his, Tony pulled the outfit on before storming out of the bedroom. Practically running out of the house he tore open the door to his car and left, feeling horny, angry, and worst of all confused.
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Reaching the safety of his apartment, Tony unlocked the door. Slamming it shut with his foot, he fell to the wall and slid down to the floor. He sat there for nearly an hour, any tiredness from the day melting into his mood. Question upon question swirled in his thoughts, all of them burning into anger.
Was Gibbs tired of him?
Could a relationship like theirs even function without sex?
What the fuck was wrong with him that made Gibbs not want him?
'Too tired' was an excuse a bored housewife gave her fat, old husband, Tony sneered at he thought, not able to sit anymore, It's right on up there with 'I have a headache'. Storming to the kitchen, he loudly threw open cabinets until he found what he needed.
Alcohol.
Not even caring what kind it was, Tony poured himself a half a glass and knocked it back. It burned his throat, but he filled the tumbler again and shot it. Grabbing the bottle and his cup, he stormed to the sofa and unceremoniously plopped down. By the fifth glass, Tony was plastered, spread across the sofa, and his aggravation had melted into doubt.
What if this was the beginning of the end?
Could he cope with some half-assed love life?
Was their relationship finally dying down?
Trying to place his mostly empty glass on the coffee table, Tony failed and the room was suddenly filled with the sound of glass breaking. Glancing down at the shattered pieces, he saw the contents had splattered across the hardwood floor, the table and the base of his sofa. How tongue in cheek, Tony glared at the mess, before turning away from it.
"Fuck it." He muttered, refusing to do anything that had to do with leaving the comfort of his couch. Pulling down the afghan that lay over the back, Tony fell into a merciful drink-induced sleep.
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The next morning at work, Tony arrived in an even worse mood thanks to his hangover.
Dropping himself behind his desk, he glared at the pile of documents awaiting his scrutiny. Since he was temporarily team leader his name was listed as the supervisory agent for the records, meaning double the paperwork. Until Tony had experienced it himself, he had never understood why Gibbs had chosen to be the first one to show up and usually the last one to leave. After subbing for his boss many times over the years he knew it was not a voluntary choice but a job requirement. 'Pit of Despair' did not even begin to describe the hell of official procedure.
Glancing at the clock, Tony noted the rest of the team should be arriving shortly. I should have been here an hour ago, Tony growled to himself as he jumped into the stacks, probably would have been if I had stayed at Gibbs. Grinding his teeth at the thought, the ache in his head suddenly sharpened as last night came flooding back to him. Swearing never to drink that much again, unless surrounded by supportive frat brothers, Tony gradually became engrossed in his work. Determined to make a dent in his desk work, the agent wasted no time in throwing himself into the reports.
He was nearly through yesterday's caseload when Agent Ziva David arrived. Just as she passed by him, she stopped and turned to him.
"Morning."
Tony returned the greeting with a nod, a disturbed look crossing her face as she walked by him.
"Are you drunk?" David asked, as she turned to her partner. Trying not to spew his coffee, Tony swallowed around the fit of coughing.
"No, I am not drunk!" Tony asserted, returning her look. Just as the words left his mouth, McGee disembarked the elevator. "Why would you even ask that?"
"Tequila vapors." Tim jumped in, waving his hand in front of his face as if clearing the air. "I can smell you from here."
"Whatever, McGeek. At least, some of us are actually old enough to drink with getting carded." Tony rolled his eyes, waving them both towards their own desk. "Let's just finish up our paperwork. We're on call, so chances are-"
Before he could even finish his sentence, the phone on Gibbs desk rang. Walking over and picking it up, Tony only response was 'yes, sir' and 'ETA thirty minutes' as he scribbled down the information the man on the other end was telling him.
"We got a case." Tony finished, motioning them to grab their go bags. "McGee, go get the car. Ziva, ride with Ducky."
Grabbing another cup of coffee – and sneaking a handful of breath mints from the jar on Ziva's desk - Tony walked down to the garage, hoping the day would get better.
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"My word! Anthony, are you feeling all right?" The first words Tony heard when they arrived at the crime scene were anything but inspiring and came from none other than the Medical Examiner, Dr. Mallard.
"Fine, Ducky." As he stooped below the crime scene tape, Tony noted McGee was already taking pictures, stopping every now and then to take a measurement and add it into his sketch. Ziva was questioning the hikers that had found the body, keeping the local officers occupied as well. He turned the attention back to the doctor, as he looked at the dead officer laying on the ground. "What can you tell me about the victim?"
"According to his wallet, this is Rear Admiral William McCreary." Ducky started, pulling out an instrument from the dead man's abdomen. "And it seems his time of death, given the cold weather last night and the fact that rigor mortis has set in, was most likely between 10:00 last night and 1:00 this morning."
"Cause of death?"
"Nothing discernable yet. I noted some slight bruising along his left calf, besides that he seems to be in excellent health." He wiped off his instrument before repacking his tools. "I can tell you more after an autopsy."
"Alright." Tony sighed, standing up. "Where's Palmer?"
"Care to share why it seems you've been on one your infamous bachelor benders?" Ducky asked as he ignored the man's question, pointedly giving him a knowing look. Tony returned it full force.
The Englishman technically knew of his and Gibb's relationship. Not because they had told him, but because the man had overheard a very private conversation between them a few months ago after a case had gone south. A hospital ward, near death experiences, adrenaline pumping – long story short Ducky knew, but neither man had ever confirmed the doctor's not-so-subtle queries.
"Nope." Tony answered evenly, glancing around at his team members. "Let's get him loaded. Ziva and McGee look about done."
"Alcohol is actually a depressant, slowing down the central nervous system and all of its functions." The older man knowingly gave him a look over the rims of his glasses. "It can greatly alter our perceptions and emotions, Anthony."
"How 'bout that." Tony reverted, relieved when Ducky finally turned his attention back to the body in front of him.
"You know, I recall a very similar case. A young petty officer, perfect health with no plausible cause of death. It had seemed as though his heart had just decided to stop. Of course…" Tony allowed the man to chatter away, knowing it would be better to listen to a long-winded story rather than psycho-babble with a lecture about the dangers of binge drinking.
Sighing, Tony could not wait for the week to be over.
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It dragged on. Tony spent the remaining days focusing on the case, taking the brunt of the paperwork for the team and sending them all home at an actually decent hour. Not that he regretted the choice. He was spending most of his nights in the bullpen, keeping up with the mind-numbing work, doing his best to avoid Gibbs. He knew if he saw the man they would just end up in a fight, probably about anything other than the fact their relationship felt like it was coming to an end. Tony refused to initiate any kind of conversation that could end up as an it's-time-to-break-up-but-it's-not-you-its-me talk.
It was Friday night, and Tony was finishing up the last of the paperwork. Another case closed, he told himself, signing the very last form that transferred custody of the case to the courts, thank god. Glancing up at the gallery, he saw the director's office light was still off. A sudden craving to see Gibbs overtook Tony, so unexpectedly a lump drove itself into his throat. Gibbs had left that morning for a face-to-face with some top brass, and he hadn't even gotten a glimpse of the man all day. Worst of all, Tony and Gibb's relationship had never involved fighting. Sure there were the little things – leaving the toilet lid up, socks that always seemed to miss the laundry basket, forgetting to return the rented movies – but nothing serious. Nothing that didn't end up in a day of make-up sex. Sex is the glue that holds our relationship together, Tony realized miserably, what the hell do we have without it? And as if his thoughts had been broadcasted, his wish to see his lover was suddenly granted.
The elevators dinged open to reveal the man of the hour. Tony looked up only to see Gibbs out of his work clothes and in jeans and a leather jacket. Jesus, Tony bit his lip to keep the curse from slipping out, what the hell am I being punished for? Tony bit harder at the inside of his cheek at the thought. At the word punished, an abstinent-induced thought flashed through his mind.
Gibbs in that coat.
Tony pressed to the boat.
A thorough punishment.
He felt his cock jump in his trousers, pressing painfully against the zipper. As crystal eyes found his own, Tony suddenly felt a rush of embarrassment as if Gibbs knew exactly what he had just pictured.
"Hey." Gibbs walked over, his pace noticeably slower.
"Hey yourself." Tony smiled, pulling his lower half under the desk. He pretended to finish up with a file, keeping his hands busy as the older man made his way to the front of his desk.
"You almost done for the day?" Gibbs asked, hands in his pocket.
"Need to get Ducky's signature on this." Tony lied through his teeth, trying to calm himself as he mentioned the doctor.
"Duck left already." Gibbs cocked his head, walking around until he was sitting on the corner of the desk. Mere inches from his subordinate, he crossed his arms. "You okay?"
"Yeah." Tony smiled his infamous knee-weakening grin, although it seemed to be powerless at the moment. "Why?"
Gibbs paused, his arms uncrossing, looked at the man as if waiting for something.
"Well…"
"Well what?" Tony raised a brow at the man's expecting expression. As they both sat there, neither one was willing to make a move.
"Nothing." Gibbs sighed, massaging his neck as he stood up. Tony suddenly noticed how tired the older man looked. His usually straight shoulders were hunched. Deep circles were dark underneath his bloodshot eyes. An indent on the bridge of the older man's nose told of the glasses that had been worn for the better part of the day.
"How was your day?" Tony murmured, suddenly feeling like a tool for not asking. A glimpse of hope ran at the edges of his mind, as he continued taking in Gibb's exhausted appearance. "You're not in a suit."
"Yeah, spilled coffee as I was leaving." Gibbs muttered, picking at the cuff of his leather jacket with a scoff. "Stopped on the way back from the meeting to change. Remind me to never let you pack my go bag again."
What if it was just a one-time thing? Like a freak accident? Tony considered, continuing looking up at the man. The thought that he had overreacted had crossed his mind but he hadn't given it any credibility up to this point. He watched Gibb's mouth moving, presumably talking about the meeting, but Tony could not make out a single syllable.
"I want you." The words were out before Tony could stop them. "Take me home. Please."
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The two men barely made it inside the house. Tony's arms had slid underneath the leather jacket, pressing their bodies as close as possible. He felt like a lost man in the dessert, and he had just stumbled across an oasis. And that oasis happened to be a grizzly, greying ex-marine.
"Please, Jethro." Tony cried, grinding himself needily against the rough denim through his considerably thinner cotton trousers. "I want you so much."
"You feel so good, baby." Gibbs murmured, straying his mouth down the man's neck.
"I need you." Tony moaned into his ear, arching under the older man's strong hands.
"Upstairs." He clawed the younger man's shirt open, working his way down to the belt buckle before removing his own jacket and tee.
"Couch is closer." Tony panted, pulling him through the archway and into the living room. Wordlessly, he pulled a condom out of his wallet never breaking the rolling rhythm of their kisses as Gibbs laid them both down on the sofa. Tony followed his pace, stroking his hands up and down the older man's back.
"Jethro, I need you inside me." Tony's voice was thick like syrup as he locked his arms around Gibb's neck. "Now!"
"Sit up." Gibbs growled, tugging his pants off before following suit with the man beneath him. Pulling the condom out of Tony's grip, Gibbs ripped the wrapper off with his teeth. He rolled it down his length, aided by the pre-cum leaking out. Grabbing a toned thigh, Gibbs yanked Tony's leg over the back of the couch. He started to slide spit-slickened fingers down to the younger man's opening, but Tony unexpectedly stopped him.
"No, Jethro. I want to feel your cock, every inch." Tony begged, his breath hitching against the man's own toned chest. "Just you, not anything else. Just you, Jethro."
Knitting his fingers over the younger man's, Gibbs latched his mouth over Tony's before pressing himself inside in one hard lunge. Swallowing the cry, Gibbs held the kiss as long as possible until air insisted on returning to his lungs.
Tony felt so turned on, thanking whatever deity that was listening that Gibbs was taking control. Moaning around Gibb's tongue, Tony curved up as he felt coarse fingers wrap around his cock. Setting a tortuously tame pace, it wasn't long before Tony began pushing up to meet the man's heave. When he tried to quicken the motion between them Gibbs lowered his upper half onto Tony's, effectively stopping him and forcing Tony to accept whatever the older man decided to give him.
After a few minutes of struggling and writhing beneath the man, to no avail, Tony nuzzled into his neck setting loose a string of needy whines and moans. Only then did Gibbs pick up the pace, keeping his weight on the man beneath him. He pulled himself out before driving back in, going all the way to the hilt. Driven by Tony's loving sounds, he gradually quickened the motion between them. But when Tony began to scream, Gibbs lost it. Measured thrusts turned to harsh fucks, kisses were suddenly nips and bites, and Gibbs hold around Tony's hand became a punishing crush.
"Not gonna last!" Tony whimpered, as Gibb's lunges began repeatedly hitting that special sweet spot inside him.
"Tony!" Gibbs ruptured inside Tony's warm passage, his cock massaged by the on-and-off spasms. Another few pumps and Tony did the same, thick spurts covering the crevices of both their bodies. They stayed where they were, racing heartbeats pulsing against each other. As they descended from elation Gibbs slowly pulled out, slightly sticking to the younger man as he did. When their breathing slowed down, Gibbs pressed a peck to Tony's forehead.
"I missed you." He sighed, closing his eyes.
"Mmm, prove it." Tony moaned as he recovered from his orgasm, running his hand down Gibbs stomach until he reached the soft hairs above his cock. Without warning, the older man sat up pulling Tony's hand away. Pressing a kiss to the wrist, he replaced the younger man's hand on the couch cushion.
"C'mon, let's go to bed."
"What?" Tony pushed himself up, looking at the man in disbelief.
"Let's go to bed." Gibbs repeated, picking up his tee shirt from the floor and began cleaning up himself. He started to wipe down the younger man, but Tony stopped him by pushing away his hands. Gibbs was actually trying to get him in bed, and not in the good way. He wanted to go to sleep!
"Excuse me?" Tony snapped, not really believing he was getting turned down. Again.
"What?" He bit right back.
"We only went one round!" Tony gaped at Gibbs, before plunging his hand back to the man's groin. He's soft, Tony realized, glancing down in disbelief. Just as quickly as the young man had shoved his hand against his cock, Gibbs pulled it away.
"I have a headache, alright?" Gibbs grunted, pushing himself off the couch.
It's official, Tony thought as he fell back down, gut-wrenching disappointment burning through him as he watched Gibbs walk out of the room, our relationship has fizzled out.