"Well," Tony said, blinking. "That's not something you see every day."

"A raped and murdered petty officer?" Kate brushed past him. "Hate to break it to you, Tony, but it's not all *that* uncommon."

Tony picked up the camera. "I don't think it was necessarily rape, Kate." He nodded at the body on the bed. The recently deceased Petty Officer O'Neil was lying facedown, legs spread, hands restrained behind his back and a black leather collar around his neck. "Rough sex, maybe."

Kate stared at him for a moment before pulling on gloves. "Look at him," she said disbelieving. "You mean to tell me you think that was consensual?"

"Possibly, yeah." Tony raised an eyebrow. "Maybe he was kinky, Kate. Some people are."

"And you'd know all about that," she muttered before moving off.

Tony hid a grin and began taking pictures. If she only knew...

"So?" Gibbs asked, looking at Ducky. "You have a time of death for me, Duck?"

"Oh, no more than a few hours, I'd say. Probably around two or three o'clock this morning."

"I'll check the security cameras," McGee said hastily. "See if anyone left around that time."

"Rape or consensual?" Gibbs asked.

"Hard to say," Ducky said with a frown. "I'd need to do a rape kit to be certain one way or the other."

Tony bit the inside of his cheek hard to keep from laughing at the look on Kate's face.

"Something you want to share, Agent Todd?" Gibbs said pointedly.

"Ah--no. Just trying to imagine what happened."

"Could be a few things," Tony said with a shrug. "Either someone raped and killed him, it was a scene gone wrong, or he thought it was a scene and someone else...didn't."

"A scene?" Kate looked at him blankly.

"Yeah. Scene. Term for an S&M setup. Look." Tony slung the camera around his neck and moved to the bed, nodding at O'Neil's wrists. "Ducky, can I touch him?"

The ME nodded. "You have a theory, Tony?"

"Not sure. But--" Tony shrugged. "These cuffs can't be done one-handed. You'd need two hands to hold the leather in place and fasten the padlock, which means that either he was drugged or he was cooperating. And there aren't signs of restraints anywhere else--nothing on his ankles or his thighs." He crouched down, snapping some more pictures. "He's got a pillow under his chest," Tony noticed. "What kind of rapist makes their victim comfortable?"

"We've seen stranger things," Kate said shortly.

"We have, yes. But I won't be able to say rape one way or the other until I get him home. Mr. Palmer, if you would be so good as to assist me?"

Tony was aware of Gibbs' eyes on him, but at least Gibbs didn't say anything. Kate, on the other hand..."Do I want to know how you know all that, Tony?" Her voice was sweeter than usual.

"Life is full of experiences," he said blandly. "You should try it sometime."

Kate just rolled her eyes.

"If you two are done..." Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "We do have a crime scene to process."

They were just finishing up when McGee came back. "I think I have something, Boss," he said eagerly. "Two people left the building in that time frame this morning--no one between one and two, but someone left at two-thirty and someone else left at three-ten. I got the tapes for Abby, see if she can pull faces, and the apartment manager is pulling the sign-in log for me. Everyone who enters has to sign in when they do."

"What about signing out?" Gibbs asked.

"Sorry Boss." McGee shook his head. "One-way."

Still, though, it was something. Tony was willing to bet O'Neil had known his killer--he'd wait for the rape kit to be absolutely certain, but he'd lay odds the sex had been consensual. The rest of it...well, they'd see.

When they got back to the office, there was someone there waiting for them--a slender, medium-height man with shoulder-length dark hair and a black turtleneck. "Can I help you?" Kate asked, stepping forward.

The man nodded jerkily, twisting his hands together. "I'm Stephen Bond," he said in a quiet voice. "I knew Dustin--I saw him last night. When I came by this morning--I saw the truck and--" He swallowed.

"Do you want some water?" Kate asked gently.

"N-no. I'm okay." Stephen linked his hands behind his back. "Dustin and I were lovers," he said in a rush. "It wasn't serious, although I thought maybe--" He shook his head. "But--I was there last night. We went out to dinner at Romio's--it's this quiet little Italian place he liked. And then we went back to his place, and..." Stephen shrugged. "You can fill in the blanks. I left around two-thirty, I think. This morning I realized I'd forgotten my watch, so I went back for it, and..." He swallowed again, rubbing a hand over his face. The sleeve of his turtleneck fell back, revealing red marks around his wrist.

Tony caught Kate's sharp look and stepped forward to intercept before she could say anything. "You subbed for him?" he asked, keeping his voice matter-of-fact.

Stephen jumped before looking at his wrists. "Oh," he said in a small voice. He pushed up the other sleeve, showing matching marks. "Guess it's not a secret now, is it?" The look on his face combined embarrassment and a little fear.

"We're just trying to find out what happened, that's all. C'mon, sit down and talk to me." Tony gestured toward his desk, snagging an extra chair for Stephen.

"We played," Stephen admitted, voice so low Tony barely heard him. "I met him through a local group and we hit it off. That was about six months ago."

"How rough did it get?"

"Pretty intense. He liked the metal cuffs--said they were more of a turn-on. And I liked being able to see the marks." Stephen flushed sheepishly, looking down at his hands. "He was a good Dom--he respected my limits, backed off if I safeworded. But he was careful. That only happened once, at the beginning."

"Do you know if he owned leather cuffs?" Tony asked.

Stephen blinked. "No," he said slowly. "Or if he did, he never used them on me. He didn't switch, either--I asked him about that once and he said it wasn't his thing. He liked being in control, not giving it up."

Tony blinked inwardly. Maybe he'd been wrong about consensual versus rape. "I have to ask--where were you between the time you left and the time you came back this morning?" He made it as casual as he could. His gut was telling him Stephen hadn't had anything to do with O'Neil's murder, but it couldn't be ruled out.

"I went home," Stephen said, absently rubbing his wrists. "Not much of an alibi, but at two-thirty in the morning..." He shrugged. "I woke up around six and was getting ready for work--I'm an architect, and my hours are pretty flexible--and realized I didn't have my watch. I--that watch means a lot to me, so I called Dustin to see if I could come get it. He didn't answer so I figured he was still asleep and I'd just drop by. I didn't have a key, but...he'd let me in before."

"Would there be any reason for him to have been wearing a collar?" Tony asked.

Stephen's eyes went wide. "No," he said positively. "No--he hated having anything around his neck, even a tie. He collared *me*, when we were together, but he couldn't stand having anything around his throat."

Gibbs stepped forward, holding out an evidence bag. "Does this look familiar?" he asked.

"This--" Stephen took it, looking at it carefully. "No. This isn't mine. Mine has a little tag with my initials. I've never seen this one before."

"He had yours?" Gibbs asked casually.

"Always did." Stephen shrugged. "It's how it goes."

"How what goes?" Kate asked sharply.

Tony bit the inside of his cheek. Hard. "A Dom holds on to the toys," he said evenly. "Collar, cuffs, anything--it's the Dom's responsibility to take care of the equipment."

He wasn't sure who looked more surprised--Kate, Stephen, or Gibbs.

"Was Petty Officer O'Neil open about--this?" Kate asked, gesturing vaguely.

Stephen shook his head. "No. Military. They're hell on gays as it is--a gay enlisted man who also liked to tie up his partners?" He rolled his eyes and Tony hid a smile. He had to admit, he liked the guy.

"Mr. Bond, why did you come here today?" Gibbs asked. His voice was still clipped, but not nearly as brusque as it could have been.

"I saw him last night. I knew you'd find me through the sign-in book or the security cameras. I wanted--" Stephen shrugged. "I care--cared--about Dustin. I didn't think..." He sighed. "I didn't think it could be anything more than it was, not unless he left the Navy, and he didn't want to do that. But we cared about each other."

Tony could practically feel Kate's disbelief and moved subtly, blocking her from Stephen's view. "Do you remember seeing anyone when you left?" he asked.

"No. It was late, I was tired, still down a little, and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep. I never stayed the night--it was too dangerous, according to Dustin."

"Did you ever go to your place?" Tony asked.

"Once or twice, but it was easier at his. He liked it that way, liked being on his own turf." Stephen rubbed his wrists again, absently. Tony glanced down and saw a faint, faded scar running over the veins; he had no doubt he'd see a matching scar on Stephen's other arm. He wondered how long ago it had been.

"Was Dustin having trouble with anyone? Did he mention anything like that?" Gibbs asked. He perched on the corner of Tony's desk, facing Stephen.

Stephen rubbed his thumb over the inside of his wrist. "He mentioned something about family trouble," he said. "He didn't go into it, just said something about his brother causing problems again. But he didn't talk about his family much. He considered the Navy the only family that mattered."

Tony reached inside his desk and pulled out a tube of Neosporin, handing it to Stephen. "Bothering you?" he asked, nodding at Stephen's wrists.

That got him a sheepish smile and a nod. "A little. Normally it's okay, but last night..." He shrugged. "Thanks." Stephen squeezed out a little of the cream, rubbing it into the bruises around his wrists.

"Do I want to know why you have Neosporin in your desk?" Kate muttered from behind him.

"First-aid kit," Tony said quietly. "You don't have one?" He raised an eyebrow and was gratified to see her back down.

Stephen handed back the tube with a soft smile, and for a moment Tony wished Stephen wasn't involved in a murder case. He covered that with a grin and put the tube back in his desk. "Thanks," he said instead. "You've been a big help."

"Yeah, well." Stephen shrugged. "I'd rather you heard it from me than dig around and have it get back to my boss. Can you keep this quiet?"

"We'll do our best," Gibbs said, surprising Tony. "No guarantees, but we'll try."

"I understand." Stephen stood up, holding out his hand. Tony shook it, pleasantly surprised by the firm grip. "If you need me for anything--" He took a business card out of his wallet and handed it to Tony. "Bottom number's my cell. You can reach me anytime."

"Thank you." Tony grinned and set the card down on his desk. He wondered idly if Stephen switched. Might be fun...okay, no, bad train of thought. He shook it off and watched Stephen shake hands with Gibbs and Kate before leaving.

"So?" Gibbs asked them once he was gone.

"If he did it, I'll eat my badge," Tony said immediately. "I know it's weird, but I think he was being straight with us."

Kate snickered, sobering up when Gibbs glared at her. "Much as it pains me to admit it, I agree with Tony," she said with a grimace. "His body language, the way he was talking--if he was lying, he'd deserve an Oscar."

Gibbs nodded. "Tony, check him out anyway. Kate, look into this family trouble."

"Where'd McGee go?" Tony asked belatedly.

"Down to Abby. He's going to see what he can get off the security tapes and cross-check it against the login book." Gibbs drained his coffee cup and tossed it in the trash. "I'm going to see what Ducky's got."

Tony grimaced. He didn't envy McGee. Then again, he didn't really want to go prying into Stephen Bond's life, but orders were orders and the man had been involved with a murder victim. He sighed and turned to his computer. Time to go searching.

It was quiet in the office for a bit; Kate was focused on her own work and Tony had his own to deal with. But there was only so long either of them could concentrate on databases, especially when there was nothing to do but let them run.

"So," Kate said, leaning back in her chair. "You seemed awfully knowledgeable about that stuff."

"I know lots of things," Tony countered. He looked up from his monitor and gave her a bland smile. "I'm kinda surprised you didn't."

She made a face. "Right. Like I go around in my spare time researching kinky sex."

"Depends on the kind of research," Tony said with a leer.

"Oh, for..." Kate glared at him. "I should have guessed you'd be into something like that."

"Why's that, Kate?" Tony twirled a pen between his fingers. "Because I don't think thinking about sex will send me to Hell? Or because I enjoy it?"

"Is it the sex? Or the control?" she shot back angrily.

"Who says it can't be both?" Tony asked with a shrug. "Little bit from column A, little from column B...lot of stuff out there to play with, Kate. Lots of ways to have fun."

"No one's having fun until we solve this. What've we got?" Gibbs asked curtly.

"Bond's clean as a new penny," Tony said, looking at his computer. "From New York originally, moved down here six years ago, right out of grad school. He's building a name for himself as an architect, graduated cum laude from Columbia. Couldn't even find a traffic ticket on him. Lives in Vienna, works in DC." He shrugged. "He's like the example of an upstanding citizen."

"Appearances can be deceiving," Gibbs said, but he turned to Kate. "What about O'Neil's family?"

"His parents live in West Virginia. He's got one older brother, Robert. And in comparison to our squeaky-clean petty officer, Robert's got a rap sheet going back years. Drug possession, intent to sell, burglary--he's been in and out of prison since he was twenty."

"Family trouble," Tony murmured.

"Where's the older O'Neil now?"

"He was released from prison three weeks ago." Kate was already grabbing her gun.

"DiNozzo, you get Bond back down here--I want a DNA sample. Kate, you're with me--let's go talk to O'Neil's parole officer."

Tony sighed and watched them leave. Sure. Leave him in the office to talk to the incredibly cute guy with the hair Tony just wanted to sink his hands into and...

He shook himself mentally and picked up the phone.

"I guess that would be obvious, wouldn't it," Stephen said wryly. "I'll be down as soon as I can."

"We appreciate it." Tony injected a little warmth into his voice.

"Well, I'm either your number one suspect or I'm confusing you all because I'm being helpful, so either way I figure I'd better keep it up. Consistency and all that."

Tony heard the smile in Stephen's voice and couldn't hide his own. "Come on down," he said instead.

"Will do." Stephen hung up and Tony shook his head again.

Until Stephen got there, Tony spent his time running O'Neil's military record. There wasn't anything there aside from an insubordination charge shortly after he'd joined. Since then, he was clean as a whistle, with a couple of commendations, both from deployment in the Gulf. An exemplary Navy man, if records were anything to go by.

And a hard-core sadist, if the contents of his closet had anything to say about it. Tony looked through the list of items, whistling silently. O'Neil hadn't just been into bondage--he'd been into a little of everything, emphasis on pain. Tony wondered what kind of marks he'd see on Stephen's back if he looked.

Abby came up from the lab when Stephen arrived. "Well, *hel*lo," she said with a grin.

"Hi," he said with a shy smile. "Nice collar."

She laughed. "Thanks! It's one of my favorites."

"Anyone give it to you?"

"Nah." Abby pulled on gloves and opened the DNA swab. "Not my thing right now. Open your mouth?"

"Normally I'm on my knees when someone says that," Stephen said wryly, but he did.

Tony nearly choked on his coffee. Damn. Now that he wasn't mildly shocky, the man was even better than Tony had originally thought. And he was off-limits.

Abby swabbed the inside of Stephen's cheek and capped the swab. "Thanks." She grinned, deliberately giving him the once-over. "Can I call you again if I need you?"

"Abs..." Tony said warningly.

"I'd say yes except for two things--I'm kind of weirdly involved in this murder case--" He stopped, taking a deep breath. "And women just...don't do it for me."

"All the good ones. Damnit!" Abby glared at the ceiling. "I'm gonna get this back down to my lab. McGee's working on O'Neil's laptop now."

"The fun never ends." Tony gave her an innocent grin to match her glare before she left, pigtails bouncing.

"So," Stephen said, looking at Tony. "You, uh, want me for anything else?"

He bit back the first dozen responses that jumped to mind and managed a smile instead. "Not right now," he said, unable to hide the regret.

"Yeah. I figured." Stephen held out his hand again. "It's not good timing. Murder case, my l--Dustin being killed--" He shook his head. "Yeah. Bad timing. If things were different, maybe..."

"Yeah. I know." Tony rose, shaking Stephen's hand. "Maybe some other time."

Stephen smiled again. "Yeah. That--maybe, yeah."

He left, walking briskly to the elevator. Tony sighed and sank back down into his seat. Abby was right. All the good ones...

After a couple minutes looking at his computer monitor, Tony gave up and wandered down to Abby's lab. DNA typing wouldn't be done, obviously, but she might have something else.

"Yo," she said cheerfully. "Cutie gone?"

"He's a witness, not a sex object," Tony said wryly. "And yeah, he's gone. What've you got?"

"Ducky confirmed murder, not rape. Dried semen on the victim's penis, along with traces of spermicide--guy used a condom, and the last sex he had he was the penetrator. I'm running a tox screen on blood now, should have results in a couple hours." Abby shrugged. "Ducky said the body was moved after death, but he couldn't say how long it had been."

So maybe it hadn't been a scene at all, but someone who knew enough about O'Neil's life to try and make it look like one. Tony started mentally making a list of O'Neil's co-workers, wondering which ones might have known about his sex life.

Abby's phone rang and she punched the button. "Talk to me," she said cheerfully.

"Abs, tell DiNozzo to get his butt up here now." Gibbs hung up and Abby blinked, turning to Tony.

"You heard the man," she said with a shrug. "I'd get your butt up there."

"Thanks." Tony flicked her pigtail and left, taking the stairs up to the office. "Whoa, what'd I miss?" he asked, seeing Gibbs all-but-drag a cuffed man toward interrogation.

"Meet Robert O'Neil," Kate said with a grimace. "Gibbs and I went to talk to him and he bolted. Started saying how he didn't know nothin', how it wasn't his fault, etc."

"And, of course, he'd already known his brother was dead," Tony said wryly.

Kate rolled her eyes. "Of course."

It took all of thirty minutes. O'Neil said a little too much--just a little bit, but just enough for Gibbs to pounce. And after ten minutes, Abby messaged Kate's PDA, saying she'd pulled prints off the cuffs that matched the brother. Combined with the physical evidence, O'Neil didn't stand a chance.

"So let me get this straight," Gibbs said evenly. "You went to your brother's apartment because he'd told you he was going to turn you over to the police if you didn't stop hassling your parents for money. While there, you suffocated him with a pillow. And then you arranged him to make it look like a sex scene gone wrong. Did I miss anything in there?"

O'Neil just glared straight ahead.

Gibbs shrugged. "Suit yourself. We've got enough evidence on you to convict. Your face is on the security tapes, your prints are on the cuffs. You signed in using the name 'Neil Roberts'--not exactly a blindingly smart pseudonym. I don't need your confession to convict you, and frankly, you've said enough at this point that you've already closed your own coffin." He got up, pushing his chair in. "DiNozzo, read him his rights and book him."

Tony brushed past Gibbs on his way to cuff O'Neil and was momentarily surprised by the heat of Gibbs' body--and the flash of *something* dark in his eyes. He shook it off as the product of too much caffeine and daydreams and snapped the cuffs on O'Neil.

Reports didn't take long and they were out of the office by seven, for once. Tony was just as glad to go; he'd kept looking up to see Gibbs watching him, eyes intent. He had no idea why, but it was rattling his nerves.

It had started raining by the time he left, big fat heavy drops that splattered against his windshield. Heat lightning flashed in the sky, which was an odd green-yellow color. The air was heavy and muggy and he turned on the air conditioning as he drove, shivering a little at the artificial chill on his skin. He made it home just as the skies opened up.

Home, thank God. Time for a nice cold beer, some kind of food--he thought he had leftover Chinese around somewhere--and whatever game was on ESPN. He unbuttoned his shirt, yanking his tie off, kicked off his shoes, and had just gotten comfortable on the couch when someone knocked on his door.

With a groan, he got up to answer it, blinking at the sight of a rain-spattered Gibbs. "Boss?" he said blankly. "What are you doing here? Did we get a case?"

"No. No case." Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "You going to invite me in?" he asked pointedly.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Tony moved aside, shutting the door behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"You knew an awful lot about the scene, today," Gibbs said mildly.

"It's like I told Kate. Lots of ways to have fun out there." Tony shrugged. "Didn't realize you cared about my sex life, Boss."

"I hear enough about it," Gibbs said with a wry look. "But I've never heard you mention that before. Just like I never heard you say anything about going both ways."

Oh fuck. Oh shit. Oh--"Ah--I don't know what you mean," he said hastily.

"Cut the crap, Tony. You think I didn't see the way you were looking at Bond today?" Gibbs stepped closer. "You wanted to eat him alive," Gibbs murmured. "You wanted to go on your knees for him right in the middle of the office, didn't you?"

Tony swallowed. He couldn't move, couldn't look away from Gibbs' eyes.

"See, here's what I don't know," Gibbs said softly. "Which way do you go, Tony? Do you get off on being in control? Or do you get off on being the one helpless and tied to the bed?"

"I think someone slipped something into your coffee," Tony said shakily. "Or the weather--or--"

Gibbs took his wrist, circling it in warm callused fingers. "Or maybe I saw you looking at Bond today and decided enough was enough," he said, voice still soft and even. "Maybe I decided I wasn't going to let you get away this time."

Tony looked down at his wrist, at Gibbs' fingers wrapped around his skin. "Do I get a choice here?" he managed finally.

"Do you want one?"

"Depends," Tony said, swallowing. "Is this a one-time thing? Is this just jealousy speaking? Because I can really do without that, Gibbs."

"I don't share," Gibbs said evenly, his fingers tightening. "You say yes, you don't get to say no again."

Tony looked at Gibbs' hand on his wrist. "Somehow I'm guessing you don't bottom," he said wryly.

"No." The dry amusement in Gibbs' voice was somehow so *normal* that Tony had to hide a snort of laughter. "Do you?"

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't already know the answer to that," Tony told him. "Would you?"

"I need to hear it from you."

Tony closed his eyes. "Peppermint," he said finally.

"What?" Gibbs sounded surprised.

"My safeword. It's peppermint." Tony smiled faintly. "Is that enough of an answer for you?"

Gibbs smiled slowly, his hand closing just shy of painfully tight around Tony's wrist. "Bedroom," he said, his voice quiet, barely hiding the steel. "Now."

Tony nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak; he was already falling, already halfway into headspace where nothing else mattered. He just led Gibbs to his bedroom, waiting inside the door for instructions.

A warm hand on his back pushed him gently forward. "Strip," Gibbs said quietly. "And kneel on the bed."

He was already reaching for the remaining buttons on his shirt. He felt almost outside himself, watching himself undress neatly and kneel on the bed, hands linked behind his back and head bowed.

"When was the last time you did this?" Gibbs asked, running a hand down his back.

"Six months ago, sir," Tony said softly.

"How long have you been playing?"

"Since college, sir." Tony closed his eyes, letting himself fall deeper, until he was floating and warm. "On and off, but I've been fairly active in the scene."

"You ever switch?"

"Couple times, sir. Not really my thing."

"No," Gibbs said, sounding amused. "No, I didn't think it would be."

If he'd been in normal headspace, he might have been offended by that, but it didn't matter. Nothing did, right now, nothing but what Gibbs told him to do or feel.

"Where do you keep your toys?" Gibbs asked.

Tony didn't even wonder how Gibbs knew he had a collection. "Top right-hand dresser drawer, sir," he answered. "And the one below it."

He heard the sounds of the drawers opening, heard the sounds of objects moving against each other. "Interesting collection," Gibbs commented. "What are your favorites, Tony?"

"Black cuffs, sir. Top drawer, near the back."

"Anything else?"

"I like just about everything in there, sir," Tony admitted. "The cuffs are my favorite. And the--" He stopped, blushing.

"What, Tony?" Gibbs' voice was even. "I'm only going to punish you if you're not honest with me."

"The purple toy, sir. Top drawer, left-hand side."

"Nice size," Gibbs said absently. "You like being fucked, Tony?"

"Yes sir." Tony bit his lip, unable to hide the embarrassment.

"Good." Gibbs' hand closed around the back of his neck and Tony gasped, head dropping forward. "That's it," Gibbs murmured. "Fall for me."

He shuddered, swallowing against his dry throat. "Sir..."

"Do you trust me, Tony?"

He could only nod.

Gibbs' fingers stroked through his hair, down the back of his neck. "Good boy," he said softly. "Just fall for me. Youre already mostly there, I can feel it. Just let yourself go the rest of the way. Just fall."

A low whimper escaped him; he felt the tension flow out of him, along with any remaining embarrassment and nervousness.

"Lie down on your back," Gibbs told him. "Hands over your head, legs spread."

Tony moved, stretching out against the soft thick comforter. He felt the soft lining of the cuffs as Gibbs buckled them around his wrists, one at a time. Pulling got him nowhere and he realized Gibbs had threaded the chain through the headboard.

"God," Gibbs murmured, so softly Tony barely heard him. "So perfect, Tony."

Tony opened his eyes in time to see Gibbs undressing; his mouth went dry and his cock hardened at the sight. Gibbs smiled, moving to kneel between Tony's legs. "I should keep you like this all the time," Gibbs said, tracing fingers over Tony's chest, ghosting over his nipples. "Spread out, hard, so far down nothing matters but me, bound to the bed just like this...so tempting, Tony."

He licked his lips involuntarily, trying to arch into Gibbs' touch. "Yeah," Gibbs said huskily. "Like that. I want to see you respond to me, Tony. Want to watch you lose it."

Gibbs' hand wrapped around his cock, stroking him slow and sure, thumb rubbing over the head. Tony couldn't hide a groan at the feel. It had been so long since someone had touched him like this, since someone had spread him out and used him and made him fly.

"So much I could do with you," Gibbs murmured, squeezing Tony's cock just enough to make him moan and twist into it. "So much." He leaned forward, licking away the drop of pre-come. "That what you want, Tony? To be mine? My boy?"

"Yes..." It was barely more than a breath, all he could manage. "Please, sir..."

"Shhh." Gibbs kissed him gently, lips brushing over his own. "I'll take care of you."

Tony shuddered all over, his mouth opening eagerly under Gibbs' kiss. God, he wanted this; he'd wanted this for so long and now, lying on his bed, wrists cuffed over his head and Gibbs warm against him it seemed almost like a dream. Gibbs bit him just behind his jaw and he gasped, the small pain burning through him. "You like that?" Gibbs asked, nuzzling his throat. "Do you get off on pain, on that edge where you don't know if it hurts or not and it's so good it doesn't matter?"

He whimpered helplessly. "S-sometimes, sir," he managed, voice shaking.

"It's all sensation to you, isn't it? It doesn't matter if it's my hands or my belt or one of those toys you've got hidden away. It's all about how you feel. How I make you feel." Gibbs bit him again, harder. "That's what you need."

His head fell back, exposing more of his throat. It was an open sign of submission, of surrender, and they both knew it. Just right then Tony didn't care if he'd have to wear turtlenecks for the next week; he wanted to feel it, wanted Gibbs' mark on him. "Please," he whispered again.

"I've barely touched you and you're already begging for it." Gibbs' voice was warm, tinged with something Tony couldn't identify. "What will you do when I take you, Tony? When I spread you open and push into you and make you mine?"

Oh God...Tony shuddered again, gasping at the thought. He was so hard already, it would take almost nothing to make him come. If Gibbs said *anything*, gave him any indication--but two fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing just hard enough to take that need away. He sighed a little with relief. Rules changed, but if he came without permission...

"You're lucky I'm not willing to wait," Gibbs told him. "Because otherwise I'd keep you like this all night." He kissed Tony again, hard and deep. "Just not tonight."

Tony had no doubt Gibbs could--and would--do just that, keep him open and hard and on edge for hours. Thank God he didn't seem to be in the mood for that at the moment; Tony didn't think he'd survive it.

"Where?" Gibbs asked; it took Tony a moment to clear his mind enough to answer.

"Nightstand, sir," he said, swallowing. "Top drawer."

He turned his head, seeing Gibbs take out the bottle and a condom, before letting it drop back against the pillow, eyes closing. This couldn't be real.

And then one slick finger pushed inside him, slowly, and all thoughts flew out of Tony's mind. His mouth fell open; he tried to breathe, forcing his body to relax and accept the penetration.

"That's it," Gibbs murmured. "Let me in, Tony. Open for me."

His hands reached for the chain on the cuffs, clenching around it to give him something to hold on to. He drew his legs up a little and flushed with pleasure when he heard Gibbs' approving murmur. "Good," Gibbs said softly. "Like that."

A second finger slid into him as carefully as the first, stretching him out until there was nothing but the burn and pleasure and oh God that lightning when Gibbs' fingers moved *just* right inside him--Tony moaned, pulling against the cuffs in a fruitless attempt to get more.

Warm, rough hands pushed his legs up and back, spreading him wide, and he whimpered, panting for breath as Gibbs pushed into his body in one smooth thrust. It burned and it hurt just enough to make him crave more, make him desperate for anything Gibbs would give him. "Please," he said, breath catching in his throat. "God, please--"

Gibbs kissed him hard as he began to move, slow and sure. "Mine," he whispered against Tony's mouth. "My Tony."

His legs ached with the strain and his wrists were starting to hurt from the way he kept pulling at the restraints and his whole body was on fire, need and lust and desperation coiling through him. He heard himself whimpering, tasted salt in his mouth and told himself it was just sweat.

He lost track of time, of the feel of the comforter under his back and the sound of the bed, of everything but the way he felt, the way Gibbs felt over him and against him and inside him. Pleasure wound tighter and tighter around him, stealing his breath and any bit of sanity he had left. "Please," he begged shamelessly. "Please, sir..."

Gibbs bit his throat, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. "Do it," he whispered. "Come."

It was all he needed. Tony cried out, body arching as much as he could, blood roaring in his ears. He fell back against the bed with a groan, trembling. Gibbs groaned against his throat, biting down hard as he shoved one last time into Tony's body and came.

He was floating, high on a combination of endorphins and subspace, and could only lie there limply as Gibbs pulled out of him, got rid of the condom. He felt the dampness of the baby wipes he kept in the drawer as Gibbs carefully cleaned him off, the sudden cool air on his wrists as the cuffs were undone, but he couldn't even bring his arms down.

Gibbs chuckled softly and pushed the comforter back. "Get under here, Tony," he said wryly.

"Mmf." It took every bit of strength he had to crawl under the blankets and he collapsed against Gibbs as soon as he was there, resting his head against Gibbs' shoulder. Gibbs kissed his forehead, stroking his hair.

Tony blinked, feeling gentle fingers trace a line around his throat. "Hmm?" he mumbled sleepily.

"Just thinking," Gibbs said, one finger resting over Tony's collarbone.

"'Bout?" He yawned, already half-asleep.

"What kind of collar would look good on you."

And even as exhausted and satiated as he was, he couldn't stop from shivering at the sound of that.