Chapter 10: Tony Goes Camping
After—because they hadn't spent many evenings together yet that they had been able to keep their hands off each other—Tony got up and did his nighttime thing: brushed his teeth, washed his face, cleaned up. Gibbs was all but asleep when he came out of the bathroom, stretched out on his side facing Tony. When he didn't feel the dip of the mattress and the expected press of the other man's body alongside his, he opened his eyes a little. Tony stood in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning against the jamb, watching him sleep.
"What?" Gibbs' voice was hoarse with fatigue, even to his own ears.
"Wondered if you wanted to go hiking with me tomorrow, camp out a night, maybe two." It was Friday night, with a whole three-day weekend ahead of them.
Gibbs didn't betray his sudden wakefulness by tensing or opening his eyes further.
"Thought I'd work on the boat, maybe out back if it was nice."
"Well, this would be instead of that." Tony's teasing didn't rise to the level of a joke but still kept things light.
"Not much of a camper, Tony." Tony didn't respond immediately to this, but continued to watch his...lover. Gibbs still squirmed when that word entered his mind, not because he was uncomfortable that Tony was a man—although he did still think about that, hard—but because he really didn't want to get into Love Territory.
"So that's a no?"
Forced to it, Gibbs reminded himself that he was a bastard, that he didn't do anything he didn't want to do, and answered. "Fraid so."
"Alright." Tony started toward him. Jethro wondered if he would get the cold shoulder tonight, but instead of slipping into his side of the bed, Tony walked around to Jethro's.
"What are you doing?" Gibbs said. He had flipped on his back so he could watch what Tony was doing.
"Getting into bed." Tony answered and then crawled into his, Jethro's side, climbing over him clumsily and poking him with his elbows and pushing his hands in sensitive spots and sticking his nose in Gibbs' neck until Gibbs laughed and tried to shove him off to the side. Tony clung like a limpet and Gibbs had to resort to stealth tactics until Tony was finally on his own side of the bed. Gibbs lay back, breathing heavy and still laughing a little. Tony, too, was on his back, smiling. He turned his head on his pillow to look at Jethro, catching his profile for only a few seconds before Gibbs leaned up on his side, propping his hand on his elbow, to look down on his bedmate.
Tony grinned up at him. "You gonna kiss me or what?"
"Yeah," Gibbs huffed out one last little laugh before leaning forward and growling, against Tony's lips, "why not?"
Everything seemed normal the next day. After an early breakfast, Tony made some calls, and called down to the basement around ten to let Jethro know he was leaving.
"I've gotta go home to get gear and more clothes, Gibbs. See you later!" Gibbs came out round the boat and stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at Tony.
Tony's trademark grin was the last thing Gibbs saw before Tony waved and was gone.
The quiet weekend suited Gibbs. He indulged and worked on the boat all Saturday. Despite the beautiful weather, he stayed in the cool dim light of the basement, listening to the baseball game sometimes, sometimes just working in the quiet. Hours passed without his marking them. When he got hungry, he ate. At some point, he checked his watch and noticing it was after 7, poured himself a bourbon. He slept when he was tired, under the boat, and when he woke up at 3, he kept working. At 5, he went to sleep again, this time on the couch, and woke to the sun streaming in the living room windows. He ran. He mowed the lawn. Had a sandwich. Went back to the basement. It was how he had lived, on and off depending on wives and cases and a few other demands on his time, for years. It was reassuring and reliable and good. It felt good.
He started listening for Tony around 4 on Sunday. Figured one night'd be more than enough. It's not like it mattered though. Tony and he had started spending weekends together, mostly, but not every weekend. He'd see him Tuesday, if not before. He was at a decent stopping place on the boat, wondered what he should begin next. He was walking around the boat and considering the possibilities when he heard the front door open.
Gibbs was shocked, truly shocked, at how everything in his body tightened, how glad he was that Tony was back. Woods were no place for him, what if something happened out there? No easy way to get help, for Gibbs to get to him. He strode to the steps, took them two at a time, almost collided with the man at the head of the stairs.
"Whoa there, cowboy. What's the rush, Jethro!?" Fornell jumped back out of the way.
Gibbs didn't answer, just shook the hand Fornell held out. "What do you need, Tobias?"
"Well," Fornell said calmly, "I owed you a bottle of the good stuff for loaning me your best undercover agent last month. Thought I'd pay up, maybe see if you wanted to grab a burger."
Gibbs realized that the timing was pretty good actually, ruthlessly ignored his disappointment, and accepted the proffered bottle with a grin. "How does steak sound?"
Fornell left around midnight and Gibbs spent the night on the couch. When he woke in the morning, his eye fell on his cell phone, on the hall table where he left it. Should he call Tony, see when he was coming back? If he did that, though, Tony would think that it was work-related and Gibbs didn't want to bother him when he should be enjoying himself. Tony'd be back when he was back and that was that.
Gibbs needed food for the week, to gas up the car, so he ran errands in the morning. He picked up enough food so that he could feed Tony dinner if he was back tonight. Good thing too he thought with savage satisfaction that the man was finally back, because when he pulled into the driveway, Tony was there, just pulling a duffle bag out of the back of the car, and slamming the trunk. Tony looked up and smiled at Gibbs as he waited for him, bag slung over his shoulder.
Gibbs looked him over as he parked and came around the truck, not bothering with the groceries yet. Tony's jeans were streaked with mud and grass, ripped a little in one knee, and his t-shirt was just as dirty. He hadn't shaved since he left obviously, and just as obviously hadn't had a shower. His teeth gleamed white in the tanned, also dirty, face and Gibbs turned and went back for groceries just to keep from grabbing him and putting his sudden desire on very public display.
Tony's smile faded, but he dropped his bag and came over to help, standing close as he reached into the bed for a couple bags. "Miss me?" He said, shooting a sideways glance at Gibbs.
Tony didn't seem to be waiting for an answer, or like the answer was important to him, but Gibbs knew better. Had always known better. Heaving four bags in his arms, he faced Tony and then headed for the house saying clearly, "Yep," and just catching the smile that reappeared on Tony's face.
"Yep you missed me? Or yep, 'that'll do, pig?'"
Gibbs didn't reply, recognizing a movie quote when he heard one, and knowing that Tony was fishing for more from him. The younger man was bounding up the steps behind him and the two of them crowded into the house carrying all the bags. And before Gibbs could turn or put the bags down or anything, Tony's hands spun him around and his mouth covered Gibbs'. Oh jesus. His mouth was so hot, and Gibbs felt like he had never wanted anyone as much as he wanted Tony in that moment. Gibbs dropped the bags and quick pushed his hands under Tony's shirt, moaning as he felt the gritty skin-dirty and probably sweaty too—under his hands and the urgent press of Tony's body.
"God, Gibbs, I...I...just—"
Their mouths were sealed together and the kiss was sloppy and hungry and just beyond sexy. Gibbs tore away and mouthed his way down the bristly face and neck, unbearably turned on by the roughness, the smell. The smell. He pushed Tony away, hard, but didn't let go the grip he had on his shoulders.
Tony reached out for him, trying to get close again but stopped when Gibbs held him at arms length. "What?" he asked, confused.
"You smell." Gibbs accused.
"Well, I haven't had a shower in two days, Gibbs. Anyone would smell. I borrowed some of Hank's deodorant though. I shouldn't smell too bad," his voice lowered, softened, "but I would be glad for a shower. Care to join me? Jethro?" He looked at Gibbs with eyes already cloudy with passion, knowing that using Gibbs' given name was a trigger, and slowly, but relentlessly, pushed himself forward, overcoming the considerable resistance in Gibbs' arms, and plastered his body against Gibbs'.
Gibbs let Tony's warm body come to rest against his, despite the fact that he smelled like another man, drank in the sexy sounds coming from his mouth as Gibbs started in on his neck again. Gibbs' cock had been hard since he had laid eyes on Tony but as Gibbs sucked brutally at Tony's collarbone, the combination of Tony's cry of pleasure pain and the satisfaction of marking the other man had Gibbs thrusting his hand down his own pants to grab his cock at the base, squeezing to stop from coming.
Gibbs didn't answer, too deep in his own desire to form coherent sentences, even brief ones to order Tony up the stairs to bed. Instead, he felt something shift inside of him, felt the same energy that helped lead him in an investigation snap into place, felt the calm that came with knowing what to do.
Gibbs smiled at little at Tony, and Tony's eyes widened at that, before slamming shut as Gibbs reached out and held the other man's face with his palm, stroking his bristly cheek with his thumb. He pulled his hand out of his pants, slipped it back under Tony's shirt to rest against the slim bare waist.
"Jethro?" This time a whisper, a giving in. Gibbs pushed the younger man back a few feet, stepped over and through the bags at his feet, and then reached out to pull Tony's tshirt over his head. He shucked his own next. Tony toed off his shoes and Gibbs did the same. They stood there looking at each other, both in jeans but otherwise naked from the waist up. Gibbs watched his own hands reach for Tony, stroke up his chest, press and play with his taut nipples. Tony's head dropped back and his arms were open at his sides. Gibbs stroked down the smooth, soft skin of his inner arm with the rough pads of his fingers. Tony shuddered, but never took his eyes off Gibbs'. And then Gibbs fingers flicked open the top button on Tony's jeans. And the others—why didn't the man have a zipper like everyone else— opened just as easily and Gibbs found Tony's cock with his palm even as he slanted his mouth over the other man's again. He pulled and pulled, long hard strokes up and the press of fingers at the base and behind Tony's balls and Gibbs' drank in Tony's moans, the sounds that Tony made because of him. With his left hand, Gibbs reached up to cup the back of Tony's head, fingers threaded through his hair and pulled so that his lips licked and mouthed from the sweet fullness of Tony's lower lip down the salty indentation between lip and chin. Down, down the bristly curve of the man's neck and Adam's apple to the hollow of his throat, across his collarbones, first to the right then to the left, and the whole time Tony's breath shuddered, harsh with desire, and his body bowed against Gibbs. With his mouth, Gibbs followed the arc of Tony's body down even as his touch on Tony's cock stayed rhythmic and just this side of pain. When he bit lightly and then sucked at Tony's nipple, he lifted his head long enough to order, "Talk."
He shifted upright suddenly, to push Tony down onto the old rag rug in the living room. Hand still deep in Tony's pants, he hovered over the younger man. "Understand, Tony? Talk to me, —" fuck fuck fuck he had almost called him something else babe or boy and oh my god what was happening to him? The rush of panicky thoughts made him moan and press his own face briefly against Tony's neck, his own breath coming in sobs almost.
Tony, overwhelmed by the sexy onslaught and rejoicing in how out of control his very in-control lover was, pushed aside the haze of arousal when he heard the sad sound. Gibbs face pushed hard into his neck and shoulder. His hand was still on Tony's cock, firm but unmoving. Tony kept his body relaxed and pliant beneath Gibbs, his body and left arm immobilized by the other man's weight, but reached up with his free right hand to stroke the back of Gibbs' head, down his neck and soothed in long soft strokes down the older man's spine, first his fingertips and then with the nail of his thumb.
And now Gibbs shuddered. Gibbs' repeated himself, but somehow the word didn't feel quite like an order any more. A request? A supplication? Whatever it was, it was like the man knew the word inscribed on the scroll in his heart. Tony thought vaguely of the Lord of the Rings, was he a golem then? Animated by a single word? Truth? Speak? The Lord of the Rings was one of the few books Tony had cherished as a boy, reading it over and over again, until the mythology of the world became his second home, displaced later by cinematic locales but never truly forgotten.
"Gibbs…" Tony wasn't sure what to say, but the need to comfort his lover was a compulsion and perhaps there was no right thing to say because at the sound of Tony's voice, Gibbs hand started moving again, reminding Tony of his own desperate need for his touch. Gibbs' mouth went back to Tony's chest, kissing and toying with his nipples and kissing anywhere else he wanted. Tony moaned and thrust his hips up at Gibbs. Gibbs obviously liked the way his body covered the younger man's and he liked hearing Tony's voice. As the silence lengthened, Gibbs nipped demandingly and his hand slowed. Tony tried again. "I missed you, okay? I missed you. Wish you had come with me. I wanted to sleep with you. You need to eat more vegetables. What do you want me to sa—oh fuck oh jesus damn Jethro don't stop don't stop please don't stop."
Gibbs had kissed now down the soft skin of the hard planes of Tony's stomach and then mimicked Tony that first time. He yanked Tony's pants down to his knees and pushed until the man writhing under him kicked them off. He kissed along the inner seam of Tony's leg, licked with long swipes up, mouthed his balls and then finally rose up over Tony to take the head of his cock in his mouth. Tony was beyond words now, but Gibbs demanded one more. Holding Tony's cock with his hand, he pulled off to say, softly, "Mine." And waited.
Three things happened then, almost simultaneously. Tony's body arced again, head falling back even as his hips bucked forward. Gibbs went down on him again, taking them both all the way down, deep. Tony's moan of agreement hung in the air like a promise.