Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs never thought he'd have sex with another man. He certainly never thought he'd have sex with a commissioned officer, but here he was, in the hellish desert of Iraq, leaning against the wall of the officers' latrine while the wind blew across the sand and Lieutenant Cameron blew him.

"Sir," Gibbs said, because he felt like he had to say something. Cameron grunted and looked up, the bar insignia on his uniform glinting in the yellow compound light.

"At ease, Gunny," Cameron smirked and went back to work, Gibbs's cock disappearing into his mouth with evidently practised skill.

Two days later, Cameron died in Gibbs's arms, his blood soaking Gibbs's fatigues and very unexpected tears soaking Gibbs's face.

Gibbs decided, as the medics pried Cameron's body away from him and he felt like they'd ripped out his heart, he was never going to have sex with another man. He certainly wasn't going to have sex with a comrade-in-arms. He never wanted to feel like this again.

So when Abby sidled up to him after the Colonel Ryan incident and said: "Tony thinks you don't like him," Gibbs snapped:

"Good," and walked away.

He couldn't risk anything else.