Gibbs rubbed his thumb over the inscription on the flask once more and then put it away. Those memories, buried for so long, had been surfacing more and more. But it wasn't the pain that came back so much lately. It was the love. The feeling of tenderness that he missed. The laughing. Seeing Jen, losing Kate, thinking about the past, it was all leading somewhere. It was pushing him...forward. Gibbs nodded. It was time.


Tony leaned closer to the bathroom mirror and wiped a circle in the steam. The abrasions on his face would probably heal without leaving a scar. The swelling wasn't pretty, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He headed into the bedroom. Tossing the towel into the hamper, he put on an old faded black Buckeye t-shirt that was soft and thin from years of wear.

At the click of his apartment door closing, he rolled his eyes and sighed. "Seriously, Probie," he stepped into his favourite pajama pants and pulled the drawstring. "I don't need any soup. I don't care what your mother said."

"You got McGee making you soup, DiNozzo?"

"Gibbs!" He was leaning in the doorway of Tony's bedroom. "Uh...hi."

"Hi."

Tony looked past Gibbs to see if he'd brought Ziva or Abby with him. They'd both been pretty adamant that he needed taking care of tonight. McGee had manned up and told them he was next in command after Tony and he was taking him home "to get some rest." Tony didn't miss the glare McGee threw at Ziva. That would be fun to poke at later. But it seemed that Gibbs had come alone. "You want some coffee, or something?"

Gibbs showed Tony the bottle-shaped paper bag in his hand, "I brought that prescription from Ducky."

"You're the boss." Tony eased past Gibbs toward the kitchen, taking the bottle with him. "I'll get some glasses." Tony knew what this was. Ever since he'd gotten over the plague, Gibbs had this weird mother-hen thing going on with him. It had gotten worse after Kate. If Tony showed up at work looking tired or disheveled in any way, he got a lecture about getting enough sleep. Gibbs had started taking inventory of Tony's lunches and leaving apples on his desk. He gave Tony grief about coming into work late at night. It would wear off, eventually, Tony told himself. At least he wasn't being 'nice' about it like he'd been right after Kate.

Gibbs leaned against the kitchen counter and watched while Tony got a couple of glasses and pulled the ice tray out of the freezer. "You're drinking Glenfiddich 10-year-old over ice?"

"What are you gonna do, report me to Ducky?" Tony handed Gibbs a glass with two fingers of scotch, neat. He dropped a few cubes into his own glass and swirled it around before taking a sip. He winced as the alcohol hit the scrape at the side of his lip. But the scotch tasted good. One drink and a couple of aspirins, like Ducky suggested, and he'd be out for the night.

Gibbs put his glass down and crossed the narrow kitchen. He tilted Tony's chin up to the light and looked at the damage. "This is where you need the ice, DiNozzo." He reached two fingers into Tony's glass and fished out half an ice cube. Tony willed himself not to flinch as Gibbs touched the ice to his lip. He watched Gibbs's face. Intense. Concerned. And maybe something else.

"What am I gonna do with you, DiNozzo?" Gibbs murmured as he wiped the drippings from the ice off Tony's chin with his thumb. "You just keep doing this to me, don't you?"

"Boss, I--"

"Shhh. Don't say anything." Gibbs moved the ice away from the cut and slid it slowly along Tony's bottom lip. Tony closed his eyes. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be what he hoped. Not really. He'd pretty much given up any real hope of something happening with Gibbs, especially after Madame Director showed up. And now, after a night and day of enforced intimacy (but no payoff) with Ziva and the adrenaline shock of fighting for his life, there was only so much he could take.

He opened his eyes. Gibbs was focused on his mouth, moving the ice over his lip and back again. Slowly, Gibbs raised his eyes to Tony's. And there it was. The invitation that had been there almost from the beginning. But this time, it didn't get shuttered away. This time Gibbs let Tony see it. All of it. With a small movement, Tony shifted his mouth away from the ice, his lips brushing lightly over Gibbs's finger. Gibbs didn't pull away.

He sucked what was left of the ice cube into his mouth, taking Gibbs's finger with it, dragging the tip of his tongue tentatively along its length. Tony was afraid to say anything, afraid to look away from Gibbs's eyes or do anything that might break whatever spell had him like this.

The ice melted down to nothing in his mouth. He swallowed and sucked lightly on Gibbs's finger, then grazed the pad with his teeth. A sharply indrawn breath from Gibbs. Tony pulled Gibbs's hand away from his mouth slowly. Your move, Boss.

Gibbs didn't hesitate. He leaned in and put his lips and tongue where his finger had been, kissing Tony hungrily, lips softer than Tony would have dreamed. Gibbs's hand slid up over the back of Tony's neck, his fingers buried in Tony's hair. Tony braced himself against the counter as Gibbs pressed in on him, warm hands seemingly everywhere at once, his neck, his arms, his chest, and down over his hips and ass...

"Tony?"

"Yeah?" he panted.

"Are these silk?" Gibbs's hand circled his ass.

"Uh, yeah." Tony shifted uncomfortably, hoping to hell this wasn't going to be a dealbreaker. "I like to sleep in them."

"Good." Gibbs's hands roamed over Tony's ass and slipped up under his t-shirt. Tony realized his knuckles were white from gripping the kitchen counter. He relaxed his hands as the shock began to wear off. Gibbs isn't going anywhere. He straightened up a little as Gibbs kissed his neck, licking and nibbling as he moved over Tony's throat. Tony groaned softly and slipped his hands inside Gibbs's jacket, feeling the play of muscles under his hands. He pushed closer and felt the hard outline of Gibbs's cock against his own through the thin silk pants.

Tony forced himself to concentrate on the here and now. There was no point worrying about what might happen tomorrow, because nothing could undo what had happened already. He tugged impatiently at Gibbs's belt buckle, then felt Gibbs push his hands away and back to rest on the counter. "Not yet, Tony."

"Fuck, Boss--"

"Don't call me 'boss'."

Tony gripped the counter again and threw his head back as one of Gibbs's hands found his cock through the silk. "Please," Tony ground out as he pushed up against Gibbs's hand, "please don't make me call you Jethro."

Gibbs stopped.

Tony straightened up.

Gibbs's blue eyes were hard and a little cold. "It's Gibbs, okay?"

There was more going on here than Tony could understand right now. He nodded, slowly. "Gibbs."

The next kiss was a little softer, less frantic. They had all the time in the world. Tony gasped. A low, needy sound came from deep in his throat as Gibbs loosened the drawstring on his pants and put his hand inside.

~*~*~

A vague throbbing from the cut by his mouth was the first sensation as Tony woke up. Next came the memories of the past couple of days, and then last night. He felt around next to him. The bed was empty. He rolled over on his back and stared at the ceiling. Gibbs--with his mouth everywhere, on Tony's cock, his chest, his ass. Exploring, tasting every mound and crevice. Gibbs's cock in Tony's mouth, Careful with your lip, DiNozzo--his fingers probing Tony's ass, Come for me, Tony. That's right. Nice and hard. And then again. And again. And then long, slow kisses as they melted into sleep.

He felt really good. Like...a racehorse after the Triple Crown. Tired and sore, but triumphant. And pampered. He looked at himself. Suck marks on his chest and stomach. Light, finger-sized bruises on his hips. You should see the other guy. Tony untangled himself from the sheets.

The bathroom mirror showed the left side of his face blooming black and blue. But it would be gone in a few days. Out to the kitchen and into the living room just to make sure. He was alone.

That was okay.

Gibbs's record aside, it wasn't like Tony was expecting a ring or anything. He shivered as a cool November breeze fluttered the curtains by the balcony door. Get dressed. Get something to eat. And that was as far as he was willing to plan at this point. He headed back toward the bedroom, but turned when he heard the click of the front door lock.

He smelled coffee. And bacon. And Gibbs.

"You're up." Gibbs handed Tony a coffee, swept an appraising eye over his bruised face, then dropped a soft kiss on his forehead. He slid a cold hand over Tony's bare back and gave him a light smack on the ass. "Get back in bed. I'll bring the sandwiches."

"BLT?"

"Uh. Huh." Gibbs turned toward the kitchen. Tony took a sip of coffee.

"Mayo?"

Gibbs leaned out of the kitchen and glared at DiNozzo. Tony smiled and headed back to bed. "Guess so."

~*~*~*~*~