Series: - No Series - #1
Chapters: 001 Word Count: 2550
Character(s): Jethro Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo
Category(ies): Established Relationship
Episode(s): 7-08 Power Down
Summary: Gibbs and Tony occupy themselves during a power outage. Written to fulfill the "candlelight sex" square on my schmoop_bingo card.
Author Notes: Big thanks to devildoll and carleton97 for looking this over. All mistakes are my fault, of course. The title and some of Tony's dialogue are from Bull Durham, screenplay by Ron Shelton.
Tony’s watching some basketball game from the couch and Gibbs is in the easy chair with a book when everything shuts off: TV, lights, refrigerator. Shit. Gibbs makes his way to the kitchen and reaches up to snag the radio from the top of the fridge. He turns it on and looks for a news station while Tony digs out a couple of flashlights, handing one to Gibbs before walking to the front windows and looking down the street. “Streetlights are out in both directions,” he says. “Houses are dark, too. I’m guessing we have another power outage, boss.”
“Don’t call me boss when we’re not working,” Gibbs says distractedly. He hopes it’s not another outage like before, with the people taking out power all over DC so they could steal that internet something-or-other McGee tried to explain to him multiple times. Gibbs just doesn’t give a flying fuck about the internet, so the explanation never stuck. Finally, he finds a station talking about a power outage that covers Takoma Park and Silver Spring. It turns out to be the result of a squirrel jumping onto a transformer and blowing out power while getting shocked to death.
“Tough break for Rocket J. Squirrel,” Tony jokes.
“He never should have left Frostbite Falls,” Gibbs says with a smile. He goes back to the kitchen and finds the junk drawer, digging through it until he finds the candles. Tony stands in the dining room and watches him. “No sense in wasting batteries when they don’t know how long the outage will last,” Gibbs says. “There are some candlesticks in the cabinet behind the stairs. Could you grab them?” he asks, digging out a box of matches.
“Uh, sure,” Tony says, and comes back in a couple of minutes with two ornate candlesticks, hefting them in his hands like he’s weighing them. “Gibbs, I think these are silver.”
“Yep. Wedding present.”
Tony tips one of them upside down to read the text on the bottom. “They’re from Tiffany,” Tony replies, sounding sort of shocked.
Gibbs walks over to Tony and takes the candlesticks from him. “There’s a branch of Shannon’s family that has a lot of money.”
“Buying wedding presents at Tiffany kind of money?”
“Yeah,” Gibbs says, standing at the counter and putting two tapers into the candlesticks. “I think they were pissed she was marrying a hick Marine, so they were showing off.”
“You told me you met Shannon in Stillwater,” Tony says, resting his hip against the counter and watching Gibbs.
“Yeah, at the train station. There was this girl in town, Jessica Carlisle, who got a scholarship to some boarding school, and Shannon was her roommate there. Jessica’s folks had a dress shop in Stillwater, and her mother had a heart attack. Shannon came to Stillwater with Jessica for the summer, to help at the store until Jessica’s mother was able to work again.”
“That was a really nice thing to do.”
“Well, that was Shannon,” Gibbs says, striking a match and lighting the candles. He hands one to Tony and walks into the living room and toward the front hall.
“So, what are we going to do?” Tony asks, the candle throwing half of his face into shadow. “I’ve tried to read by candlelight before, and it gave me a monster headache.”
Gibbs turns at the base of the stairs, holding the railing in one hand and the candlestick in the other. “Well, I was thinking we could go to bed.”
“But it’s barely eight-thirty.”
Gibbs sighs. “It’s a good thing you aren’t this slow on the uptake when we have a case, DiNozzo. I’d have fired you after a week.”
“Ohhh, gotcha,” Tony breaks into a grin and comes over to the stairs. Gibbs turns and starts walking up. He’s gone four or five steps when Tony says, “I have to say, your ass is only enhanced by candlelight.” Gibbs looks over his shoulder and delivers a withering glare, but Tony only smiles. Gibbs sighs and keeps climbing.
They get into the bedroom and Gibbs puts his candlestick on the bedside table, gesturing to Tony to do the same on his side. They stand there on opposite sides of the bed, looking at each other. Tony grins again and says, “It’s like Clooney and Lopez in Out of Sight.”
“Who in what?”
“Never mind,” Tony says, and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Gibbs takes the hint and starts stripping down, waiting until he’s naked to pull the covers down to the foot of the bed. The candlelight isn’t quite enough to really see Tony, so Gibbs has to wait until Tony’s in the bed with him to run his hands over Tony’s body instead of his eyes.
They start kissing slowly, even lazily. They have a lot of nighttime to eat up. Suddenly, Tony stops. “The water heater – is it…”
“It runs on gas, Tony. You won’t have to take a cold shower in the morning.”
“Well, that’s good. Although there was awhile where thinking of you did make me a take a cold shower,” Tony says, running his hand down Gibbs’s chest.
“Really?” Gibbs asks, strangely gratified.
“Um, not literally,” Tony says sheepishly. “But I did think about you a lot when I jerked off,” he finishes sunnily.
Gibbs pulls Tony halfway on top of him, so he can reach over and smack his ass. “Ha, ha.”
“Sorry. I got a little carried away,” Tony says, and goes back to kissing Gibbs’s neck. He chuckles and asks, “Have you ever seen Bull Durham?”
Gibbs looks at the ceiling for a second, thinking. “Susan Sarandon, right?”
Tony bites Gibbs’s shoulder, not all that lightly. “Of course you remember it because of the redhead.”
“Hey, she was pretty hot in that movie.” They’d shown it on base three or four weeks before his deployment ended, and he’d about gone crazy waiting to see Shannon again.
“Oh, she was extremely hot.” He pauses. “Still is, come to think of it. Anyway, the candles made me think of this time in college. I was dating this girl, Becky…”
“And by dating, you mean…”
“Had sex constantly for about four weeks,” Tony says into Gibbs’s neck, and nibbles there a little.
Gibbs runs his hand over Tony’s ass, dipping into the cleft. “Uh-huh.”
“She loved that movie. I mean, she had a poster of Crash in her bedroom.”
“Mm-hmm.” Gibbs grabs Tony’s ass in both hands and pulls his hips down, flush with his own, and keeps doing it until Tony begins to thrust of his own accord.
“So Becky decides we should have sex in the bathtub, like in the movie.”
“With all the candles?”
“Yeah,” Tony says, panting a little, his cock rubbing nicely against Gibbs’s. “Except in the movie, Annie has one of those old claw-foot tubs, right?”
“Right.” Gibbs grabs Tony’s hips and slows his rate a bit. He doesn’t want to come just yet.
“And a table or whatever for the candles. Well, Becky had just a regular tub, with a tile surround on three sides.”
“I know,” he smiles, and then dips his head to lick Gibbs’s throat. “And the tub was in no way built for two people, and then the candles… God. Okay, first, she had to cram them into the corners of the surround, so they were about three inches from our faces.”
This is getting good. Gibbs actually lets go of Tony’s hips and rubs his back instead. “Sounds safe.”
“And we were in college, you know? Not a lot of money. Becky had just bought whatever candles were on sale, so there were vanilla ones, and rose ones, and cheap-smelling lavender ones. So the bathroom smelled like an old lady’s handkerchief drawer, and Becky’s hair almost caught fire, and then I smacked my foot on the faucet…”
Gibbs starts laughing outright. He can’t help it. “That bad?”
“Gibbs, I was nineteen and I couldn’t keep my hard-on. That’s how bad it was.” When Gibbs keeps on laughing, Tony gets a little put out. “Okay, it’s funny, but it’s not that funny,” he says, rolling off Gibbs and toward the other side of the bed.
Gibbs reaches out and snakes his arm around Tony’s waist, like he’s tackling him on a football field. “Hey. Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, pulling Tony down again and kissing his shoulder, then his neck. “What happened next?”
“Oh, like I’m going to tell you the rest,” Tony pouts, pinching Gibbs’s inner thigh. Gibbs slaps Tony’s ass in response, and Tony laughs. “We dried off and then got into bed, and I made it up to her,” he says, rolling toward Gibbs and throwing his leg over Gibbs’s hip.
“How did you do that?” Gibbs murmurs, and runs his hand down Tony’s back.
Tony nibbles at a spot just north of Gibbs’s collarbone. “Well, you may have noticed that I’m pretty good with my mouth.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” Gibbs says, cupping his hand around the back of Tony’s head, to keep him in one spot. He’ll have to do up all of the buttons on his golf shirt tomorrow, but it’ll be worth it. Tony’s really good with his mouth.
The nibbling gets a little more intense. “Let’s just say I made sure Becky came two or three times before I got to come.”
Gibbs groans, because the mental picture of Tony with his head in between some girl’s legs, bringing her off with his mouth, is undeniably hot. He runs his hand up and down the back of Tony’s thigh, letting his fingernails make contact behind Tony’s knee. Tony moves his mouth to Gibbs’s collarbone and licks a narrow line out to his shoulder. “And in the morning, I tied Becky’s hands to the headboard and painted her toenails red.”
“Yeah. And then after I untied her, I recited Crash’s speech about what he believes, and Becky got so hot she jumped on me and got nail polish all over her sheets.” Gibbs feels him smile against his shoulder.
Tony rolls on top of Gibbs, straddling his hips, and holds Gibbs’s wrists on the pillow with his hands. He looks down with a little smirk on his face that Gibbs can barely discern in the candlelight. “Well, I believe in the soul,” he says, dropping the barest of kisses on Gibbs’s neck, warm breath moving over Gibbs’s skin. “The cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back,” he continues.
Christ, Tony’s voice. Gibbs wants to touch him in the worst way, only his wrists are trapped but good. “…the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch…” More feather-light kisses on Gibbs’s neck, and Gibbs thrusts his hips up, gasping when he feels his hard dick brush against the curve of Tony’s ass. “…That the novels of Susan Sontag are self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone.”
Tony thrusts back to tease Gibbs’s cock, and then straightens his elbows so he’s looking Gibbs square in the face. “I believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the designated hitter,” he says, with a shit-eating grin on his face, then goes back to kissing and licking Gibbs’s jaw.
“I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography…” another maddening thrust back against Gibbs’s cock, “…opening your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long, slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.” Tony plants his mouth on Gibbs’s and gives him just that, holding Gibbs down with his legs and hands and lips and tongue until Gibbs can’t take it anymore and rears up, rolling them over so Tony’s on his back with his legs wrapped around Gibbs’s hips. The kiss gets faster, messier, with Tony making these little sounds deep in his throat and letting his legs fall open so he can plant his feet on the bed and thrust up against Gibbs.
Gibbs moves his hips against Tony’s, their cocks sliding together and sending a spike of pleasure up Gibbs’s spine from his balls. Tony breaks the kiss and looks up at him, breathing like he’s chasing a suspect, and then grabs Gibbs’s ass to bring their dicks together again and again. He tilts his head back – Gibbs can tell he’s close – and his throat is bared, so Gibbs leans down and licks a wide stripe up to Tony’s jaw, speeding up his hips, wishing there was more than candlelight in the room because he loves watching Tony come. He sees Tony clamp his eyes shut and bite his lip, letting out a deep, long groan as his cock pulses against Gibbs’s stomach and his come lands between them. He opens his eyes and looks up at Gibbs, grabbing his ass again and pulling them together. “C’mon, Gibbs, come for me,” he says, a dirty little smile playing along his lips.
Gibbs groans and thrusts faster, feeling it build in his balls and his ass and up his spine, sparking along his nerves until he stops stock-still, balanced on his knees and elbows, and comes all over Tony’s stomach with a groan. He lays there on top of Tony for a couple of minutes, getting his breath back, before rolling onto his side facing Tony, who leans off the bed to pick up his t-shirt, wiping them down with it before throwing it back onto the floor. Gibbs throws his arm around Tony’s waist, lightly running his nails in a circle on Tony’s back as they lay there letting their breath even out and trading a couple of soft, short kisses.
He drifts off and panics some unknown time later when he remembers the candles, his eyes flying open. “Shit,” he says, looking around, only to notice they’ve been extinguished and the bathroom nightlight is on. He’s alone and under the sheets. He’s about to get up when Tony walks into the bedroom, a shadowy, naked figure in the dim light from the hallway.
Tony climbs into bed, lying down with his head next to Gibbs’s on the pillow. “I blew out the candles and then went downstairs to get the flashlight, in case we needed to get around before dawn,” he explains, settling in closer. “And then I noticed the streetlights were back on, so I forgot about the flashlight and came back up.” Gibbs shifts to put his arm around Tony, who rests his head on Gibbs’s chest. “I don’t suppose any of your ex-wives left a bottle of red nail polish behind?”
Gibbs smacks Tony’s shoulder. “No.”
“Worth a shot,” Tony says sleepily. “I’ll just have to go to the store in the morning.”