Sweet Gestures

Chapter 3

True to the ZNN meteorologist's prediction, a heavy snow fell on DC that night.

They had managed to get both of their cars in the garage the night before, side by side, although it was a squeeze. Gibbs was out front shoveling the walkway and had cleared half the drive before Tony appeared, bundled up. Gibbs cast a critical eye over him and asked, "You taking that transfer to Alaska, DiNozzo?"

Tony glanced down over his winter gear: heavy wool socks with LL Bean boots, corduroy pants, a bulky hand-knit sweater over a turtleneck with a jacket on top. He also wore an Ohio State knit cap, fur-lined leather gloves, and a very long muffler that Abby had knit for him last year. It was black with white snowflakes. He'd wound it several times around his neck so it covered his face up to his eyes. "I don' like t' be col' Jethro," he said in a muffled voice from behind the wooly scarf.

Gibbs, who was wearing a leather jacket and no gloves or hat, was pink-cheeked from the cold. He strode up to Tony and glared at him for a minute, then pulled Tony's muffler down to expose his face. He moved his lips to within inches of Tony's mouth and frowned at him. "You shovel the rest of the driveway and I'll warm you up. Got a gift for you. Upstairs when you're done."

Tony's eyes widened and he grabbed the snow shovel out of Gibbs' hand. "You go warm up the bed and I'll be right there."

Stepping away, Gibbs warned, "Make sure you scrape it clean, Tony. And sand any icy spots. I have something to do out front first."

Fifteen minutes later Tony was in the mudroom adjacent to the kitchen, stripping off his outdoor clothes, dumping his snowy boots on the mat. He took the stairs two at a time and slid into the bedroom on stockinged feet. Gibbs was waiting for him, fully clothed, a steaming mug in each hand. "Cocoa," he offered.

"Thanks, I love cocoa!" Tony grinned and took one of the mugs. He drank greedily and then placed the half-empty mug to one side. He looked around the room to see if there was any hint as to what the gift might be. Nothing looked out of place except for the rumpled bed, which he'd forgotten to make.

Gibbs took his time sipping his cocoa, but after Tony started hopping from one foot to the other in anticipation he took pity on him and put his empty mug aside. He wrapped his arms around Tony and drew him near, then kissed him slowly and thoroughly, tongue sliding across his lips and darting into his mouth until he had him moaning for more. Jethro pulled back and grumbled, "Your nose is cold."

"And your hands are really cold," Tony complained in response. He took both of Gibbs' hands in his, puzzled. "Why're you so cold? Didn't anyone ever tell you that you should wear gloves? You got me a present?"

Gibbs held onto Tony's hands and pulled him towards the bedroom window. He released Tony in order to raise one of the double windows, letting in the crisp winter air. Ignoring Tony's cry, "Are you crazy? You're letting the cold in," Gibbs pointed down at the snowy front yard. "There," he said with a bright smile.

Tony reluctantly moved to the open window, his shoulders hunched up and arms crossed in protest of the cold air. He peered out with suspicion written all over his features then he exclaimed, "Snowmen! Who made those…?" With a look of wonder he turned to see an almost sheepish look on Jethro's face. "Did you…? Aw Jethro…" He leaned on the windowsill, forgetting his aversion to cold, and looked down at the snow-covered front yard. There, standing close together, were two hastily constructed snowmen, one wearing what Tony recognized as Jethro's fishing hat, a fishing pole held in his gloved hand. The other one wore an NCIS ball cap and a muffler. Both had eyes and mouths made of pebbles and bits of twig, and carrots for noses. The Jethro-snowman's gloved hand was holding Tony-snowman's twiggy hand in a strangely human gesture of friendship. Drawn in the snow in front of the snowmen was a big heart.

"Merry Christmas, baby," Gibbs said, echoing the lyrics of the song Tony had been humming the night before. He couldn't help grinning broadly in response to Tony's delighted smile. As soon as Gibbs laughed aloud Tony turned and wrapped him in a bear hug, tucking his face into his neck. Jethro was touched that a simple act could warrant such a loving response. "Hey, they're only snowmen, Tony. They'll probably melt by tomorrow." He raised a hand to hold the back of Tony's head close, enjoying the feel of his hair between his fingers, the warm breath on his neck and the way his body leaned into him.

"It's just that…nobody ever gave me anything like that before," came the slightly muffled response. Tony suddenly pulled back with wide eyes, staying within Gibbs' arms. "Oh no…"

"What?"

"Shit, Jethro! You do realize you've outed those two snowmen to the whole neighborhood." He let out a laugh at the shocked look on Gibbs' face. "At least Tony the Snowman has a bigger carrot nose than his boyfriend has." He ground his hips against Jethro and raised his eyebrows. "You know what they say about the correlation between the size of a man's carrot and his penis."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "How about you close that window and I'll show you just how big my carrot is."

Tony lost no time in breaking free, slamming the window shut and tackling Jethro so they fell onto the bed together. They kissed and when they broke apart to take a breath, Tony groused, "Your hands are still cold."

"Then you'd better work harder at warming me up," Gibbs challenged. "Hey, it's your job to make the bed every morning."

"What's the point when I knew we'd mess it up again? We are going to mess it up, aren't we?"

"If you stop talking, we will."

In response Tony pulled Gibbs' shirt up and started sucking one of his nipples - hard. Gibbs bucked and gasped. Quickly they shed their clothes and collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the unmade bed.

Gibbs soon took the lead, murmuring, "Last night you took care of me. Now it's my turn to take care of you." He kissed Tony with passion, dominating their every move, his tongue battling with Tony's while his free hand ran down his naked thighs possessively. "On your back." He coerced the younger man to lift his knees and settled between his legs, feeling right at home there.

He liked the way Tony was panting and moaning, already so eager and open to him, hands grasping and fondling, whimpering for him to hurry up, to fill his need. Everything about Tony turned him on - the sounds he made, so needy and desperate, the way he looked, the utter beauty of the man, all long limbs and smooth skin, heavy-lidded eyes dark with desire, lips parted and tongue sneaking out, wet and shiny, so tempting.

And the way he smelled. Oh God, his smell, all soap and aftershave and sweat and sex. Yeah, that turned him on. A whiff of his pre-come was all it took to make him rock hard. And the way his chest dark hair circled his pink nipples, then trailed down his belly to his groin where his penis jutted out - thick and dark and aroused, suffused with blood, the fat head tipped with glistening droplets in anticipation - offering itself to him like a prize.

His taste, oh God, his taste. The way his skin varied, the wet mouth sweet, underarms salty, come bitter, the way Tony tasted like nobody else. All Tony. And the words that came out of that beautiful mouth. Sometimes he swore like a sailor, mouthing obscenities that served to turn Jethro on even more. Demanding attention, giving orders as if he was the one in control, saying fuck me hard, suck my dick, bite my ass, hold me tighter, just you never fucking let me go.

Tony's hands could be tender and soft in their caresses, or pinching and cruel and hard as only a man's hands can be, always without any shame. And when he came the way his body flushed and trembled and shuddered with orgasm and he cried out with shaky moans and arched and tensed and finally collapsed in his arms - that was Tony, his boy, his man, the only one Jethro wanted to fuck and to protect and to be forever united with.

And when he came in response to Tony's orgasm, it was always the same. He tried to hold out, to reach his peak after Tony came, to wait for him in some weird game of outdoing, outlasting him, even though it was intended to give, to just give Tony the best experience he could, to give him everything, to give way, give self…it was like he died. Sometimes he'd black out and awake later, damp and sweaty, still hot with his heart racing, and he'd see Tony's eyes, and my God the way he looked at him with such faith, such deep belief that he, that HE could protect him from everything out there that scared the shit out of the both of them.

Then Tony would turn to him and take him in his arms and act the part of the protector, whispering assurances and seeing deeper into his soul than anyone had ever seen, even if they'd bothered to look, and Tony would say he loved him and for once Jethro believed in God.

***end chapter 3***