A/N: Warning! Dubious consent scene in this here chapter…well kinda. Yeah. Kinda.
Tony sighed deeply, feeling completely drained by the last several nights of little sleep.
He slowly rubbed circles on his aching temples, and hen opened his eyes to look into his bathroom mirror.
"Seriously, you look like a zombie from Dawn of the Dead," he said to himself, scowling at the dark discoloration under his eyes. He snickered a bit at his own comment. "Or...maybe...Zombieland. No wonder Gibbs is lookin' at you like ya' got three heads."
He sighed again and left the bathroom, with ideas on grabbing a beer from his fridge.
There was a knock at the door. He looked up at the kitchen clock. It was almost 22:00 hours. Quickly, he went and got his Sig from the bedroom, and then said from around the entrance of the kitchen, "Yeah! Who is it?"
"Wendy. Tony…I wanna' talk to you."
"Shit," he said sourly. Again? She wants to talk again? Probably about that goddamned book…
"Whaddy'ou want, Wendy?" he asked, closer to the door and lowering the gun to put the safety back on.
"Please…I just…need to talk to you…" she sounded fairly desperate, which gave him a little inner shimmer of pleasure.
He took the chain off the door, and as he opened it, took in her drawn face and white-knuckled hands gripping a manila folder.
Her dark eyes looked up at him, and he could read the apprehension in them.
"What. Do. You. Want?" he said concisely again.
"I…ah…she looked down at his toes which were peeking out from his flannel lounge pants. "My publisher called me and said someone called upset about the book…I just assumed it was you." She looked back up at him. "Can I come in?"
He stared at her for a long moment, and then said, "I never called. Maybe it was Lance. Since you're about to "out" him too. You call him up to have dinner like me? Or was the divorce so nasty he wouldn't take your calls?"
She shivered in her rain coat, momentarily struggling for words.
"Tony, Lance is dead." Her expression became sad.
He frowned for a moment, Lance is dead? Ohgod…what if…his head swam for a moment. No…I've been tested like a million times now since then. But…Wendy…
"Come in," he said with a little less steel in his tone.
She slowly walked in, and placed the envelope on his coffee table, and then sat, without removing her coat.
He closed the door, and then walked over to stand in front of her. He couldn't help another sigh escaping him, bu this one was a little shaky. "What happened?"
"I…was going to tell you the other night…but…you stormed out before I could finish telling you about what happened…what was going in the other books…"
He shook his head a little, and looked away. He raise his hands an said angrily, "What the hell did you want me to say? That I was so happy that you wrote this book? Jesus Wendy, really? You know what happened with Jim!" He pushed out a breath to calm himself. She opened her mouth to say something but he cut her short, "And no, I didn't call your publisher," he snapped. Then he said more softly, "What happened to Lance?"
She nodded, and said a little tearfully, "I tried…so hard. You have no idea. So many rehab centers and doctors…and then he seemed better. But…then there was a news report on tv about a murder case NCIS was involved with…and they interviewed you for just a second…and that was it." A tear fell from one of her eyes. "He started all over again." She nervously played with the edge of her raincoat. "He was…obsessed with you. He tried…tried to forget you. I thought he had. I married him and had a kid with him for God's sake! But…he couldn't be happy with me. Always talked about you. Even when we tried other three-ways again. And last year, he got really depressed after breaking up with a guy he was with…and…killed himself with drugs. All that time…I thought he loved me back, and that I was helping him because he needed me. And apparently I was a consolation prize, a little piece of you. I just didn't realize it for a very long time. God…he was in love with you, not me."
"I know," he breathed, the enormity of the truth finally coming out between them made him feel slightly dizzy and threatened to block his mind from working right.
"You…you knew?" she asked incredulously, eyes wide.
He nodded and sat on the edge of the coffee table. "I turned him down. He wanted a relationship…with just me…and I told him no. More than once…" Tony rubbed at the tension in his neck.
Wendy shot up from her seat, and started to pace. "How…why didn't you tell me?" She slowed, waiting for an answer.
He wouldn't look at her. "Because it was your game…what you wanted…and I thought when we got married…that you would have gotten tired of it by then."
She paced some more.
"And then…he started using…and I wanted it to stop…he was getting rough, and you didn't know everything that went down." He stared at the window in his living room while she slowed again.
"What happened?" she asked, almost choking out the words. "You…never said anything."
"You told me we were done with him. So I left it alone. I didn't think you needed to know…know that…h-he…flipped out one night after we were pretty drunk…and then I think he did a few lines or something, because he disappeared into the bathroom for a while, next thing I knew…my wrists were handcuffed to the bed, and he took some of your pantyhose and tied my feet…he got…a little crazy…"
Her face had contorted into a mix of confusion and fury. "You're lying."
He jumped up now and stood, looking over at her heatedly, "Why would I lie? Why? I know why I didn't tell you everything back then. But it was to protect you...protect our relationship, you idiot! I wanted…to make you happy. I was looking to the future and to get past our little experiment! But you couldn't let it- let him go!"
She swallowed, and looked down, with more tears tracking own her cheeks. "I thought…" she almost whispered,"that you enjoyed what we did with Lance…that you loved him a little too…"
Tony slumped. They were never going to see eye to eye on this. She was never going to really hear him.
"Wendy," he said dejectedly, "I did enjoy it…but to me it was just…recreation. You were the star…my star…" his voice broke on the words, "I…loved you so much…" he said, and was surprised that after all this time, the old pain could still re-emerge and take his breath away. His vision started to blur, as his own eyes filled with tears now as well. "And Lance got too crazy. I asked you to make a choice, and you chose him. There's nothing left to say. Why did you come here?" He couldn't help the bitterness that dripped from his words.
She seemed to pull herself together a little, and looked at the manila folder on the table.
"I brought a copy of the book…for you to read. I thought…it would show you how I felt about everything, and how I remembered…and how…I know I was a fool…I wanted to tell the truth."
He nodded. "Just at my expense."
"No," she said, looking at him imploringly. "I want you to be free of this…to let it out…to live however you want to-"
"So you think I'm into guys?" he asked in a lower, almost menacing voice, "and you're gonna' help me by doing this? You don't know anything about who I really am. You never did."
"I-"
"Get out," he hissed.
"But I-" she held her hands up, almost begging him to listen.
"What don't you understand about GET OUT?" he yelled furiously.
She closed her eyes and sighed, and then nodded, as she opened them and turned to leave.
She quietly closed the door behind her, and when he heard the gentle snick of the lock, he picked up the folder and threw it against the door with a grunt.
He wiped the moisture off his face and sat heavily onto the couch.
He remembered Lance, the first time he realized Lance had started doing drugs, the night it seemed he'd gone darkside.
(flashback)
Tony laughed at Lance as his hands drifted up his chest to his shirt buttons. "You don't wanna' wait for Wendy to get home?"
"She's found us fucking before…she'll just jump in if she wants then." Lance breathed a little onto Tony's neck, and then nibbled and licked it, causing him to get hard in spite of all the alcohol they'd consumed. He was a little drunk. And Lance was turning him on.
"Okay..." Tony murmured. "Bedroom." He gently pushed Lance away, but the other man leaned in quickly and captured Tony's lips in a warm, sensual kiss.
Lance kissed better than most women.
Tony groaned into his mouth, and then chuckled, pushing him gently away again. "Come on…" he got up, and then they both made their way to the bedroom.
Tony sat on the bed while Lance's blue eyes roamed over him. He began to unbutton Tony's shirt, casually brushing his fingers over one of his nipples.
Tony's head fell back just slightly as he let out a pleasured sigh.
Lance ripped open the rest of the shirt, and pushed Tony back on the bed. Then the green eyes were fixed on him, as he peeled off Tony's jeans and underwear.
He smiled when he saw Tony's cock, engorged and lying on his belly. "That for me?"
Tony grinned, "I guess til' Wendy gets home it is." He was joking, but he saw something pass over Lance's face. Not this again.
Lance looked away and then removed his clothing, though he almost fell over once or twice after all the beer and shots of Yeager they did.
Tony snorted at him. "I dunno' Lance…you may be too drunk to fuck me anyway."
The other man snorted back. "I'd still get hard and stick it in you after a gallon of gin."
"Lucky we don't have any. Or I'd like to see you try," Tony laughed again, his body feeling relaxed on the bed, until Lance's hand wrapped around his dick and started stroking.
"Uhhhhh….yeah…." Tony moaned out. In all honesty, Lance gave a better hand-job than Wendy, but Tony figured that made sense, cos' Lance was a guy. He knew what felt good on his own cock.
Lance leaned down, giving the head a lick, as Tony hissed and tossed his head.
Then he felt Lance pause, and say, "It could be like this all the time. Just you and me…and I know what to do to your body…inside and out…"
Tony shivered. Lance did know what to do…had made Tony cum so many ways…he had no idea until Lance that a man could provide him so much pleasure. But…it was just that. Physical pleasure. Nothing more.
"Lance…can we not…do this?" Tony begged, wanting badly to fuck and cum, and not get into the fruitless debate again.
He stared at the ceiling as he heard Lance sigh. "Okay, Tony." And he gave Tony a few more strokes, and then said, "I'll be right back. I need to hit the head."
Tony nodded, and watched the strong back and long, pale limbs as they disappeared into the bathroom.
He sighed, and worried a little that he may need to tell Wendy that Lance was saying these things to him. But she adored Lance. He was hoping she would get tired of this…situation…and that she'd also get pissed off when they started fucking sometimes without her.
As he thought, his eyes started to close drowsily. He'd better get back out here soon…or I'm not gonna' be awake…
He must have dosed off…but when he was aware again, something was off…he was face down on the bed, with his hands cuffed to the headboard, and he couldn't move his legs much. He tried tugging at a foot. What the Hell?
"Lance?" he turned his head to look back and see the other man, staring at him strangely. "Ah…what's up? Why…am I tied up?"
"Because I wanted you like this. Ass up, and having no control," he said, almost in a monotone voice which scared Tony. His pupils were blown, an his hands were trembling.
What the Hell…? Was Lance fucking high? He was! Crazy bastard!
"I…I dunno' if I like this Lance. Can you please…at least undo the cuffs?" Tony's heart was pounding a little. He had to admit this was a little exciting…as evidenced by his hard cock,but, more on the alarming side. If Lance hadn't kept talking about a relationship, maybe he wouldn't have been disturbed by it at all…
Lance moved around behind him, and he heard the lube bottle opening and closing.
"Lance-" he began again, but gasped as he felt Lance straddle him, and without warning, grab his ass cheeks apart and plunge his cock into Tony.
Tony cried out at the blinding pain, water coming to his eyes, as Lance's dick stretched him, made his pulse throb in his burning hole. Panting, he said, "Lance! Easy! Dammit, that hurt!"
Lance leaned forward, and whispered in his ear, "You're mine, Tony. Just like this. Only mine…" and with that, he started to pull back, which still hurt like hell, but Tony was adjusting.
Tony realized something was really not right with Lance, as he started to rut furiously into him, while muttering the words, "Just mine...just mine…" over and over.
Thankfully, the pain ebbed away, and Tony started to feel the sparks of pleasure travel to his cock from Lance angling and hitting his prostate. But he knew he was not going to cum. He was mentally not into the "sex zone" any more, since Lance had gotten a little frightening and strange.
Eventually, Lance came into him, with a howl, as Tony lay still and cold beneath him.
(end flashback)
He'd never told Wendy, because they were both drunk, and he had wanted Lance to fuck him…just not like that. It was only a few weeks later Wendy admitted she'd caught Lance doing drugs too, and then the fighting began.
He shook his head sadly to himself. They were all nuts back then. All horny, confused, and in love with the wrong person.
"What a fucking mess," he said to himself hoarsely. He rubbed his face, and eyes tiredly. And now what? What kind of cataclysm would this book bring? He looked at the manila folder on the floor.
Maybe he should call a lawyer.
He got up with a heavy sigh, and retrieved it. He sat again, frowning, opening the folder and taking out the book. He needed to know exactly what she wrote.
With trembling hands, he opened it up and began to skim it.
The next morning Tony sat staring at his computer screen, trying to pull his head together.
He was a mess and he knew it. Because of that damned book.
He'd barely noticed Ziva and McGee walking in, or Gibbs returning from MTAC …
It took a while for him to feel the stare coming from the other side of the room. Gibbs' pale blue eyes were on him, and when Tony's met them, there was something odd about the way the older man was looking at him. The gaze was locked on him for a stretch, and he could swear he saw Gibbs swallow…nervously. And then lick his lips and look down at his desk at some papers there.
Tony continued to look at him for a few seconds, frowning a little and perplexed. And then he turned to look at McGee.
"You ready to go catch a bad guy, Probie?" Tony asked, trying to sound better then he felt.
McGee's head shot up. "Me?" His big eyes glanced around between Tony and Ziva and then Gibbs.
"Did I stutter, McFuddled?" Tony asked, getting up and grabbing his gun and bag. "Let's go."
McGee once again looked at Gibbs who raised a brow and said, "He is your SFA, McGee, I suggest you get moving." And then Gibbs turned back to his folder.
"Ahhh, okay," and grabbed his things to catch up with Tony, as Ziva quickly handed him the sheet of paper with the names and addresses of the strippers they needed to investigate in hopes of finding Rick Walsh.
"You get a lead," Gibbs called after them, "And you call us for backup."
As they got on the elevator, McGee caught a glimpse at Tony's expression.
"Tony, you okay?"
His SFA turned to him, green eyes filled with something that looked like anguish, before quickly covering it up. "Yeah…I'm okay, Probie."
But McGee wasn't convinced.