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by: taylorgibbs (Send Feedback)
Series: - No Series - #1
Chapters: 016 Word Count: 24259
Character(s): Jethro Gibbs, Tony DiNozzo
Category(ies): Angst/Drama, General
Summary: Tony DiNozzo meets his destiny when a cocky NCIS agent comes to work a case with him.
Author Notes: Thanks to Anna for the beta and the idea. Its allllll her fault and is dedicated to her.
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
CBS Watch Magazine:
Indeed, when Harmon first met Weatherly, he investigated the younger actor's hands and commented on his lack of calluses, saying, " 'Not a lot of labor in your life, Weatherly,' "
He met his fate in a hospital in Baltimore. A Petty Officer had been raped and left for dead and Tony was getting nowhere. NCIS had been called in. He was aware of the agency but had never worked with them and he was a little nervous. This sort of thing always ended up in a huge pissing content and that wasn’t gonna get any answers or justice.
This guy strode in all alone, probably early forties, salt and pepper hair, commanding air, and Tony found himself standing taller as the guy approached. Bart, his partner, scurried away like a little girl and Tony was left to face this guy and his overwhelming presence.
NCIS guy flipped his case open, displaying his badge and ID and Tony took it in with a practiced eye. For some reason he didn’t understand, he reached out and shook the man’s hand firmly.
“DiNozzo,” Tony said by way of an introduction.
The man—Gibbs—turned Tony’s hand over, studying it between sips of coffee. Tony stood perfectly still, little shockwaves of desire running through him though he tried like hell to remain impassive.
“Not a lot of labor in your life, DiNozzo.”
Tony met his gaze levelly and shrugged. “I’m a cop. Enough labor on the job.” And there was but he’d always taken care of his hands, even since the football days.
“Could have fooled me,” Gibbs said, stroking a finger over Tony’s palm. Tony’s body had no business hardening like that. For this man, this stranger. Tony sucked in a breath, meeting brilliant blue eyes blazing with intelligence and passion. Was that passion for him or for answers to the crime?
Tony swallowed hard, very aware that there was something simmering between them, not knowing what it meant or how to proceed. Should he yank his hand away or play it off. He decided to do nothing, watching this Gibbs as he quirked an eyebrow, smirking.
“Good to meet you, DiNozzo. What have we got?”
Tony filled the man in on details of the case and they worked side-by-side trying to figure out the answers. The biggest shock was that Gibbs didn’t push Tony aside and try to take over the crime scene. He actually consulted before commandeering the physical evidence and having it brought to DC. Tony didn’t mind NCIS taking the lead on the evidence, their forensic lab wasn’t backed up and it wasn’t like Bart was even involved in the discussion. Tony knew how intimidated his partner was when Bart backed off, guarding the victim instead of doing any actual investigating. That was fine. He and Gibbs were making a damned solid team.
Tony didn’t work really well with new people but this guy was different, there was a camaraderie between them that had begun with their first highly-charged moment and he relaxed into a banter he hadn’t had often, going from slight teasing to passionate debate of theories.
Gibbs found himself charmed by this young detective. DiNozzo wasn’t even like his partner, who shirked away. This young guy was whip smart with good instincts and a great read on people. He was also gorgeous and knew it. He reminded Gibbs a little of himself before time and his hurt had caused him to start looking inside and isolating himself from the world.
And with this cop, he didn’t want to isolate. Gibbs had been working alone for a few months, since Langer went off to the FBI and Burley to an Agent Afloat assignment. He’d genuinely liked working with Burley and Langer had showed some promise, but he’d be a much better fit at the FBI. Gibbs knew it and he knew Langer knew it.
Gibbs had soundly rejected the revolving pile of files that appeared on his desk. Eager, young, by the books agents who would run him ragged chasing leads that didn’t mean anything. He knew what he needed. He needed someone with street smarts. He needed someone just like DiNozzo.
Frank Balboa and Chris Pacci helped out on an as-needed basis but they were running down some cold case that had gotten hot again suddenly. Gibbs had been initially dreading this one—he didn’t play well with others and had the disadvantage as one single agent—but then he’d met DiNozzo.
Baltimore was about sixty miles from his home, over forty from the Navy Yard, and snow was falling hard by the time Gibbs looked up, rubbing his eyes wearily. It was sometime in the evening when he came back to awareness and sighed, cracking his back. He’d been leaning over DiNozzo’s desk in a hard plastic chair for far too many hours now.
“Ready to knock off for the night?” he asked. Gibbs had been on the case since oh seven hundred, which meant DiNozzo must have been putting in closer to eighteen hours. Deep purple crescents shadowed dark green eyes and DiNozzo’s boundless energy was waning. But there was dogged determination in those eyes as well.
“Hey, it’ll be here tomorrow. They’ll call if Petty Officer Jarvis wakes up; my forensic tech has the evidence. We’ve conducted all the interviews. Need to take a break, DiNozzo. Come back to it with a clear head in the morning.”
He saw the glimmer of hope in the young man’s eyes and knew his breathing was speeding up fractionally. There was something about DiNozzo…
“Yeah, okay.” DiNozzo drummed his hands on his desk for a minute before standing and stretching, his back cracking loudly. Gibbs couldn’t help smirking. He fell into step with DiNozzo, noting how the other man walked him to his car.
“I can take care of myself,” he said mildly, laying off the sarcasm he would have used with any other cop.
“I know that, but this is a rough area, force of habit. Where are you staying?”
Gibbs consulted his watch. Twenty-one hundred. In this weather he sure as hell wasn’t going home. There’d be no point. “No idea. Have any suggestions?”
DiNozzo’s smile brightened up the night. “How about my apartment? I have a spare room with a barely slept in bed and if there’s a lot of accumulation, we can take one car in.”
It was too innocent to be a come on, but Gibbs natural instincts were taking over, his desire rising. He looked at his car in the secure visitor’s parking lot. It was buried in a couple inches of white stuff and that made his decision for him. He jogged over, taking out a small overnight bag from the trunk. “Where ya parked, DiNozzo? You have a coffeemaker?”
There was some sort of gleam in Gibbs’ eye that made Tony wonder if he was being hunted. He supposed the invitation had sounded like a proposition even if he meant it as anything but. If he stumbled through an apology, it would make things even worse, so he kept his mouth shut, knowing that a blush was coloring his cheeks even darker than exposure to the cold weather.
He breathed deeply and nodded as the man asked if he had a coffeemaker. Strange question, but Gibbs was hard to read anyway. He motioned them over to his winter car, a ’98 Toyota Land Cruiser that he’d gotten at a police auction for a song. His vette was awful on winter roads.
“Nice. Man’s car. Not one of those sporty little buzzboxes.”
Tony winced but stayed silent, driving slowly through the snow-clogged streets until they came to his place. It was in a refurbished mill, trendy but still kind of rustic. He watched Gibbs’ expression out of the corner of one eye, but it didn’t seem like the man was particularly impressed.
“You hungry?” Tony asked, leading them up the stairs. They’d wolfed down hot dogs for lunch but otherwise had been surviving on coffee and adrenaline.
“Yeah,” Gibbs replied.
“You like Italian?”
“Depends on the Italian,” Gibbs said and Tony heard the sensual promise in that voice. He was in so much trouble and damn if his body didn’t know it.
“Pasta, Gibbs. Clear, white or red sauce.” He tried to keep his voice steady.
Gibbs chuckled low. “Whatever you’re ordering in, I’m eating, DiNozzo.”
“Cooking is faster. I have some pasta sauce in the fridge and can make some noodles.”
When he turned to look at Gibbs, the other man gave him an appraising look. “You sure? Been a long day.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Cooking de-stresses me.” He unlocked his door and motioned Gibbs in first. The older man looked around, eyes widening at the huge TV and DVD player, the movie posters on the walls.
Tony came up close behind Gibbs, breathing in an interesting scent of the outdoors and coffee with maybe a little something else. “The second bedroom is there,” he said, gesturing. “Bathroom is between the two bedrooms if you want to shower or something. Want to borrow some sweats and a T-shirt?”
“I’m good,” Gibbs replied, running a hand over his jaw. “Shower sounds okay, though.”
Tony nodded. “You shower. I’ll start warming up the sauce and get the pasta started. You a wine drinker?”
Gibbs’ crooked smile made Tony melt a little inside. “Depends on the wine.”
“It’ll be good stuff. Red sauce, red wine. Salad. Good for you?”
“Great.” Gibbs gave him a smile. “Better than fast food. Thanks, DiNozzo.”
“My pleasure,” Tony said and he meant it.
Gibbs disappeared into the second bedroom, putting his small suitcase on the bed and opening it. A shower might help him to get his head on straight. He carefully laid down a new undershirt and a polo shirt for tomorrow as well as a basic pair of knit boxers. This ritual relaxed him, gave him a bit of normality in this room that was completely unlike him.
The bed was huge, covered with a dark green comforter and throw pillows. Gibbs hadn’t seen throw pillows since he and Stephanie had broken up. There was what appeared to be higher end artwork on the walls. This was a classy place for a single detective, but Gibbs’ gut wasn’t telling him this cop was crooked. He had that look where he might have come from money.
Gibbs withdrew a T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants, then snagged his toiletry kit before walking into the bathroom and turning on the shower. He glanced at the items next to the sink. Electric razor, expensive cologne, hand lotion—that explained a lot. And tucked behind all of those almost out of sight was a bottle of lube. Gibbs grunted, his hand going for the cologne. He opened it, breathing in the scent. It was woodsy and spicy and despite it being a cologne, it smelled masculine. It had been what the younger man was wearing all day and a scent Gibbs already associated with DiNozzo.
Gibbs put the cologne back carefully and stripped off, trying to ignore his hardening cock. He’d been keyed up all day, the younger man’s presence starting a slow burn that refused to be denied. Gibbs didn’t know if anything would happen tonight and the temptation to jack off was high.
He stepped under the spray, letting the hot water pummel his aching shoulders and back. The soap dish was empty, but he located some shower gel, the same scent as the cologne. With a frustrated groan, he waffled for a second between using that and shampoo to wash off. He finally squirted a blob of the gel mid chest, his hands massaging the liquid and transforming it into bubbles.
As the bubbles drifted down his body, the water sensitized his skin more and Gibbs reached down, giving himself a squeeze. The pressure and ache was a familiar one to him and he took himself in a fist and started stroking slowly, intending to give himself pleasure instead of just getting himself off.
Tony breathed deeply, the knots in his shoulders finally easing, It was nice having another guy in his apartment rather than a woman. Felt like he was entertaining a frat brother, though he’d bet Gibbs was military rather than a college guy. Tony puttered around the kitchen, starting water boiling and turning the microwave on to warm the sauce. He’d made the sauce over the weekend and found it tasted better when the flavors matured together. He had bagged salad greens and a couple of bottles of wine were always chilling so they were set for dinner. Heck, if Gibbs was a dessert guy there was a frozen apple pie he could always microwave.
Until the pasta water boiled, he had a break and he ducked into the bedroom, grabbing a T-shirt and a pair of sweats. As a matter of routine, Tony ducked into the bathroom before he thought about it, dropping his pants and boxers just as the sound of running water hit him.
He looked up, his pants pooled around his ankles, and gasped. Gibbs was silhouetted by the clear shower glass, a hand wrapped around a very hard cock, surprised expression on his face. Gibbs froze, his eyes running down Tony’s body where his own cock bobbed proudly.
“I am so fucked,” he muttered.
Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16
MTAC - NCIS Fic