Sweet Gestures

Chapter 10

A choral group of about fifty men, all wearing festive red sweaters, was singing 'Angels, We Have Heard on High' on a stage in the center of the plaza. There was quite a crowd gathered, everyone singing along, bundled up against the cold in brightly colored winter clothing.

Tony shouldered his way through the throng of people, leaving Gibbs no choice but to tag along. Tony finally stopped near the center of the crowd, with Gibbs standing slightly behind him at eight o'clock. As the men's chorus sang the last notes of the carol, the crowd applauded and Tony glanced back at Gibbs, who was pressed up against his shoulder. Tony smiled, his eyes shining with enjoyment. He shifted so Gibbs could stand right next to him. The night air was cold enough for them to see their breath and Gibbs noted that Tony wasn't wearing a hat, but at least their new sweaters were keeping their bodies nice and warm.

"'Away in a Manger' is next," Tony said, pointing to the open page in a program booklet he had picked up along the way. He held it up, far enough away so that Gibbs could read the lyrics. The next carol began and Tony raised his voice in song along with the men's chorus and the audience.

Gibbs doubted that he could have read the fine print running under the bars of musical notes, even with his glasses on. He wasn't complaining because the crowded plaza offered a good excuse to stand close to his partner in public. "They're good," he said in Tony's ear, indicating the men's chorus. "Who are they?" There was a banner hanging behind the singers, but from where he stood it was partially obscured.

Tony turned to look at Gibbs and his voice faltered in mid-song. Closing the booklet, he held it up so Gibbs could read the name on the cover. It took Gibbs a few seconds of squinting and focusing before he was able to read, 'Holiday Songs performed by the DC Gay Men's Chorus.' He felt color rush to his cheeks and heard Tony's low rumble of laughter.

Tony took hold of his sleeve and said, so only Gibbs could hear, "You owe me a gift, Jethro."

He raised his eyebrows in query. He'd lost track of whose turn it was to give, but he wasn't keeping score anyway.

"I want to hear you sing." Tony flipped through the program. "The next carol is 'Oh Come All ye Faithful.' Sing it with me." He met Jethro's eyes with a plea.

Jethro, knowing he owed Tony a hell of a lot more than one song, especially after the way he'd treated him the previous night, nodded and rubbed shoulders with the younger man. Tony raised his face towards the stage once again and joined in the last stanzas of 'Away in a Manger.'

After a short pause the chorus led the audience in singing 'Oh Come All ye Faithful.' Jethro, true to his word, sang along, but all he was aware of was the man standing beside him. Tony's eyes were sparkling as he sang his heart out. His cheeks, ears, and the tip of his nose were pink from the frosty air. It was all Gibbs could do to stop himself from kissing Tony right then and there, and everyone be damned.

Without any forethought Jethro reached down between them, located Tony's hand, and took possession of it. Typical of Tony, not wearing any gloves. Okay, so he wasn't wearing any gloves either, but Gibbs didn't seem to feel the cold the same way Tony did. Gibbs laced their fingers together to share some of his warmth.

Even thought Tony didn't extricate himself from Jethro's grasp, he stiffened at the contact, and Jethro wondered if he'd made a mistake. Had he misunderstood Tony's desire to hold hands earlier? Had it all been a tease, touching him in the sweater shop, trying to grab his hand when they'd been strolling around earlier? Gibbs couldn't believe that he'd so misjudged his partner. He looked at Tony's profile as he continued singing, trying to read what was going on in his mind without any success.

Jethro squeezed Tony's hand, seeking assurance. Tony bit his bottom lip, hesitated and then turned to meet his gaze. What Jethro saw there, in Tony's green eyes, was love of such depth he was taken aback. Tony ducked his head and used his sleeve to wipe his eyes, then turned back to face the chorus, retaining his hold on Jethro's hand as if it was a lifeline.

All but oblivious to the crowd, they sang the remainder of the carol, hands linked together, sharing their love with each other in a quiet way.

That evening they sat in front of their Christmas tree with a glass of wine, the living room lights turned low. Jethro reclined on the comfortable couch, feet up, cushions propped behind his head. Tony's long body lay snugly between his legs, the crown of his head resting on Jethro's chest.

"That's going to be one of my best memories, hearing you sing," Tony said in a hushed voice. He angled his head to look back at Jethro. "I don't care if I never get another gift."

Jethro kissed Tony's temple, which was all he could reach from his current position, and wrapped his arms around him. Tony was heavy but his weight was comforting, as was the feel of his chest rising and falling under his hands. "Never? Hmm. That's too bad because I bought you a present before Abby decided we should all give free gifts this year."

Tony twisted so he could see Jethro's face. "You bought me something? What is it?"

Letting out a huff of breath, Jethro admonished, "Thought you didn't want anything more than your memories."

"Our memories," Tony corrected. "I'll always treasure them, and all of the things we've done this Christmas, but I'd still like whatever gift you bought for me." He settled back into place, his hips wiggling against Jethro's crotch. "I got something for you, too. Bought it weeks ago. It's really an anniversary present but can we open them on Christmas morning?"

"We'll put them under the tree then." It was all very well spooning on the couch but Jethro wanted more. "Turn over," he ordered the man sprawling on top of him. "I want to kiss you and I can't from this angle." Tony did as he was told and their mouths met, soft and wet, pliable and lazy. Tony's response changed from a gentle kiss to a deeper, more involved play of his tongue. He moaned his fast growing need.

Jethro's his hand slid under Tony's sweater to caress his back, massaging his muscles, fingers splaying and pulling him closer.

Tony slipped his hand under Jethro's shirt and ran his palm across his belly and up to his chest, loving the crisp feel of his body hair.

Jethro nibbled and sucked Tony's mouth, then kissed him hard, with fervor and want until they broke apart gasping. "Time for bed." Tony didn't need any more encouragement.

Tony stripped off his clothes and tossed them aside so fast that Jethro laughed. By the time Jethro had toed off his shoes and peeled off his socks Tony was naked and waiting on their bed, his cock standing at attention. He was all long limbs, tousled hair and big eyes, dark with desire. Jethro kicked his own clothing out of the way, crawled across the bed and braced himself over Tony's hips. "Damn, you're beautiful."

Tony shook his head a little in denial.

Jethro cupped Tony's jaw with one hand and licked his lover's lips before kissing him.

"Don't have a gift for you," Tony mumbled into Jethro's mouth.

Jethro nuzzled the underside of Tony's jaw. "Isn't this my present?" Lazily he stroked Tony's cock and gently rolled his balls in his palm. "Don't want anything else but you."

"I could dress up as a beat cop and you can play with my nightstick," Tony suggested breathily, his head going back in response to the stimulation. "Oh, oh…that's good."

"Don't need to dress up." Jethro twisted Tony's fat shaft and flicked at its tip with his thumb.

Tony shuddered with pleasure and panted, "You could play big bad gunny. Interrogate me. Uniforms turn me on." He ran his hands over his own chest and rubbed his nipples in time to Jethro's deft strokes to his impossibly hard cock.

Jethro moved Tony's hands away from his chest and held onto his wrists. In a dangerous low voice he asked, "You telling me you need a uniform to turn you on, boy?"

Tony smiled, his eyelids halfway closed. He licked his lips suggestively. "No. Sometimes when we're at work and I smell you it's enough to make hard. I've almost come a couple of times. I know, how about me being a fugitive and you capture me and drag me to jail? I'll slick my hair back, and wear a plaid shirt, and you can handcuff me."

"How about you shut up and I just fuck you?" Gibbs didn't need to wait for a reply. From the excited look on Tony's face he already had his answer.

1700 hours, Christmas Eve. Reports were filed, no new cases had landed in their laps, and Vance had already left. All was well at NCIS.

"Hey, it's snowing again." McGee walked over to the huge window that overlooked the gunmetal-gray Anacostia. The park across the river wasn't even visible through the blizzard of snow though he could just make out the lights along the riverbank. He smiled in wonder. "Don't you just love the snow?"

"I love looking at it," Tony said as he joined Tim at the window. Together they watched the large flakes coming down, swirling and settling on the ground. The streets were covered in snow, even though snowplows had been by several times already that day. "Hope it doesn't mess up everyone's travel plans." McGee didn't have far to go, but at last report Ziva was heading off to Vermont to meet her Mr. Sunset. Palmer was spending a few days with his family, Abby was flying to New Orleans the next day, and Tony and Gibbs were winging it to warmer climes on the afternoon of Christmas Day. Ducky was staying in DC and had hinted he was going to enjoy the company of a lady friend.

Abby rushed into the bullpen, demanding, "Am I late? I had to change! Gibbs said to wear warm clothes and to be here at five, so here I am. He wouldn't say what the plans were. What're we doing? What's going on?"

Ziva appeared beside her, dressed in SOPAT snow camouflage parka and trousers tucked into white moon boots. She admired Abby's all-black outfit: retro ski pants, a chain-festooned leather jacket over a heavy sweater, with heavy-tread boots that looked suitable for climbing Everest. Abby's mittens were attached to her sleeves with the kind of clips kids had on their snowsuits. Ziva eyed Abby's black and white buffalo plaid hat with its earflaps hanging over her cheeks. "Are you going to be a lumberjohn and cut down trees, Abby?"

"Lumberjack," corrected Abby and Tony in unison. Abby giggled and looked Tony up and down. "Nice sweater, Tony." She nudged him with her elbow. "Noticed Gibbs was wearing a new one, too. When are we going to find out what you boys have planned?" She jumped up and down a couple of times, eliciting a broad smile from Tony.

"We'll wait for Gibbs to explain," was all he would say. "Hey, here's Ducky and Palmer!"

Ducky joined them, regaling Palmer with a story about his childhood Christmas in the old country. Both men were wearing down coats and mufflers, and had hats and gloves ready to put on.

Ziva took a moment to take Tony aside. "As Abby says, you look good, Tony."

"Thanks, Ziva. This sweater's beautiful, isn't it?" He grinned and ran his hands across his chest with suggestive strokes.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, but I was not talking about your sweater. You look…" Ziva took a moment to appraise him. "You look…at peace. That is not quite the word I would like to use. Perhaps…content?"

"Why, thank you, Ziva. I feel content. Happy, even." He looked down at her and smiled, knowing it was the truth, and that he didn't care who knew that it was Gibbs who had made him so.

"Perhaps you are happy because you are…" She searched for the right word. "Anonymous? Magnanimous? No, that is not right. What is it when you are with only one person?"

"Uh, you mean monogamous?" He couldn't help but grin at the thought of being monogamous. Imagine him, Tony DiNozzo being committed to one person - one man - for an entire year. Who would have believed it? But then he'd been faithful to Gibbs for far longer than that, since the day the NCIS agent had recruited him, so maybe it wasn't so strange after all. "You know, Ziva, it's really a nice state to be in. You might try it."

Ziva studied Tony curiously. "You know about this state being nice, Tony? You have not spoken of sleeping with many women lately. Perhaps you have found someone special and have gone on more than your usual limit of four dates?"

He looked into her dark eyes, trying to determine if she even knew about Gibbs and the depth of their relationship, but then McGee was at his side asking, "What's the boss up to, Tony?"

"How would I know, McEager?"

"Well because you're his…" McGee hesitated and glanced from Tony to Ziva, unsure.

Tony sent a look of warning to Tim. "His what, Probie?"

"Uh, you're the senior field agent, Tony," Tim said. With only the slightest of hesitation he added, "It's your job to know what the boss is doing."

So McGee knew, and from the puzzled look Ziva was darting his way, Tony was now certain that she wasn't aware of his relationship with Gibbs. Odd, he'd always assumed she'd known but had kept it to herself. It wasn't a secret, per se, but he and Gibbs never advertised their relationship or their co-habitation. McGee's chin was up, slightly defensive, but accepting. Tony gave McGee a smile of appreciation and knew that they understood each other.

Tony turned his attention back to the dark-haired woman standing by his side. "Ziva, there's a man over there who looks like he'd be happy to be all yours. Like you once told me, be a man and do the right thing." Damon Werth had just exited the elevator and was slowly approaching, as if he wasn't quite sure of his welcome.

Ziva seemed indecisive, but after a second she nodded and went to greet Damon with a hug. She then drew him into her circle of friends.

It was only a couple of minutes later that Gibbs came down the staircase. "Okay folks," he said as he came up behind Damon and clamped a hand on the big young man's shoulder. "Everyone ready? Werth?"

Damon almost stood at attention and said, "Yessir, got what you asked for in my vehicle."

Gibbs asked, "Palmer?" Jimmy nodded so Gibbs motioned with a sweep of his hand for everyone to follow. "Let's go then. Follow me."

Abby was chattering away, excited, asking questions about where they were going and not getting any answers. Ducky was in the middle of another story, this one about the studies of medicinal uses of frankincense, and Palmer was talking over him, asking everyone about their holiday traditions. Tony smiled at the way Ziva stood close to Damon, at the disparity in their height, and the way he followed her with his eyes. Yep, the muscular young man was lovesick. Tony felt sorry for him, in a way, knowing exactly how it felt to yearn for someone so much you found yourself unable to act normally.

Wasting no time, Gibbs managed to get everyone down to the parking garage and into Damon's Humvee. "DiNozzo, you're with me." He and Tony took his truck, leading the way to their mystery destination.

***end chapter 10***