He hadn't gone clubbing in a long time and--if one were to believe Kate or Ziva--he'd never gone clubbing in a place like this, where the women were practically nonexistent and the bodies were hard and designed to impress.

Little did they know.

Of course, he'd never had to immerse himself in the role of a gay boy out for the night while still retaining the instincts of a federal agent before, either. And he'd never had to pretend to play a role that, if truth be told, wasn't a role at all.

Tony reflected wryly that it was a good thing he was good at undercover work. As it was, he was beginning to feel a bit schizophrenic.

They didn't have much to go on, other than a vague description and the club where their killer trolled for victims. Tony wasn't entirely certain how that translated into him going clubbing and trying to be bait--or find the killer. He was hoping he'd manage the latter before he became the former.

But somehow it had worked out that way, so he'd dug into his closet and found his old clubbing clothes--back from when he'd used to hit the bars in search of something he'd never quite found, something he'd never really understood.

It didn't matter. He'd grown up, he'd settled into his life, and now he'd somehow gotten involved with his boss. Life, for all intents and purposes, was good.

He was a little surprised the pants still fit. He wasn't twenty-five anymore and he didn't weigh the same--although he comforted himself with the fact that it was pretty much all muscle. But leather wasn't all that forgiving, and he'd had to do some serious wriggling to get into the pants. And he hadn't missed the look Gibbs had given him while he was doing it.

Tony grinned at the thought of getting out of them later. That would be fun, especially if Gibbs followed up on that look...

But thinking about his hopeful sex life wasn't what he was in the club for, and if they didn't find this guy, no one was going to be getting any in the near future. So. Time to find the guy.

The thought put a damper on his mood, but he kept the smile on his face as he worked his way into the crowd on the dance floor. Glitter sparkled on his arms and in his hair and he felt more than a few hands slide over his ass as he moved.

And under cover of the mass of bodies, he felt up a few of his own. Strictly to maintain cover, of course.

The music was loud, the air hot and thick with the scent of sweat and male musk and beer, and if not for the case Tony would have thought he was back in Philadelphia or even Peoria. He found himself sandwiched between two men, one facing him and the other's chest pressed against his back. It was great, but he couldn't survey the room like that, so he extricated himself with an apologetic smile and moved to a place where he could better view the club.

Unfortunately, it was a Saturday night and the place was packed. With only a vague description, he was pretty much reduced to scanning the room, hoping he didn't look like a complete moron, and trying to find someone who was in his mid-forties or later, with graying brown hair and a black tattoo around his upper right arm. He didn't think he was going to have much luck, but he had to try.

It was kind of fun, anyway, falling back into that same mindset. The same 'looking-posing-preening' thing he'd gotten so bored with, but hadn't managed to give up. He had to wonder what Gibbs thought, seeing the club through the little camera in the metal necklace he wore. He'd never have pegged Gibbs for gay or even bi, but when Gibbs grabbed you and kissed you hard enough to leave your mouth feeling bruised, there wasn't much question.

There also wasn't much question where you were going to end up that night. Tony still couldn't remember exactly how it had happened; he just remembered that his temper had snapped and he'd snarled something at Gibbs and instead of snarling back, Gibbs had kissed him.

The rest, as they said, had been history.

Sometimes Tony wondered exactly what was going on between them, or why Gibbs would glance at him occasionally and he'd feel a little uneasy. He knew it wasn't just about sex, but he didn't really know what it was about.

Now was not the time to think about it. Nor was it the time to think about the pretty boys he saw on the dance floor, writhing and grinding against each other, dancing as much to forget as anything else.

Tony closed his eyes briefly, fighting back the depression. Just because he'd never found something he couldn't describe didn't mean he had a right to feel sorry for himself. It just meant he was an idiot.

His earpiece crackled and he put a hand up, hoping it would look like he was fiddling with his hair. "Got anything, DiNozzo?"

"Not yet, Boss," he said, as quietly as he could given the ambient noise. "Kinda hard to pick out people in here."

"Look harder." Gibbs cut off and Tony was left to snicker and lean against the wall.

"Thanks, Boss," he muttered under his breath.

"Talking to yourself?" an amused voice asked next to him. "Not a good sign."

Tony grinned and turned--and nearly froze. Tall, muscular, brown hair going gray at the temples, and a black tattoo peeking out from under his T-shirt.

Apparently he didn't need to look all that hard after all.

"Just thinking out loud," Tony said easily. "What about you?"

The man smiled. "Just looking for company. You're not interested in dancing?"

Tony shrugged and hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. "Not right now. You got something better in mind?"

"I might." The man smiled slowly. "Hank," he said, holding out a hand. "You wanna get out of here?"

"Tony." He shook Hank's hand, hoping his earpiece was picking up on this. "And yeah."

He followed Hank outside, wishing he had a chance to signal Gibbs and Ziva. But he'd just have to hope they'd heard him.

"So what do you have in mind, Hank?" Tony asked, looking around the alley behind the club.

Hank grinned, and the expression on his face made Tony wish fervently for his gun.

"Think you're so cute, don't you, fairy boy?" Hank asked, the smile turning to a sneer. "Think you're so hot."

"I--I don't know what you mean," Tony said, hoping the fear in his voice sounded real. "I thought--"

"You thought you were gonna get laid," Hank scoffed. "That all you think about, fairy boy? Getting fucked?"

"Look, man, I think--"

Hank came at him then, with a knife in his hand Tony hadn't seen before. Shit--it had probably been hidden in his pants or something and Tony just hadn't noticed. Gibbs was going to kill him for that later.

"Took care of three of you already," Hank said, his eyes glittering. "What's one more?"

Tony dodged the first swipe and came around on the balls of his feet. The guy was strong, but he wasn't that fast, and--whoa, okay, maybe he was that fast.

Backup would be good right about now, he thought grimly, grabbing for Hank's wrist. And then he had no more time to think, because there was an insane man with a knife trying to kill him and it was taking all his concentration to not get stabbed.

Okay. He wasn't going to get past Hank's guard without help, not unless--he gritted his teeth and dove into it, felt the slice of pain as the knife scored a line down his arm, and slammed the man up against the wall. Hank's head hit the brick; he was dazed when Tony grabbed him and pushed him down on the ground, yanking his badge out from under his shirt and shoving it in the man's face. "Federal agent," he snarled. "And you are under arrest. Asshole."

He flipped Hank over onto his stomach and bound his wrists together with a plastic tie, yanking it tighter than he might have had to. And then he waited until Gibbs and Ziva came running into the alley.

Tony looked up from where he knelt with his knee in Hank's back. "What took you so long?"

Once it was all over, once Hank had been taken away and Tony's wound had been bandaged properly and Ziva and McGee were headed back to the office, Tony and Gibbs were left in the alley looking at each other. "So," Tony said, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops.

Gibbs nodded. "You did good, DiNozzo."

Tony grinned. "Thanks, Boss."

"And you've got glitter in your hair. And on your face." Gibbs stepped closer.

"Part of the cover, Boss." Tony shook his head. "I had to look the part."

"Mmm." Gibbs raised his hand and brushed some of the glitter off Tony's cheekbone with his thumb. "You like playing the role, Tony? You like being one of the pretty boys in that club?"

Tony swallowed. "I'm good at undercover work," he said.

"Uh huh. And undercover work is easier when you don't have to lie all that much." Gibbs nodded at Tony's pants. "Where'd you get those?"

"Had 'em for a few years. I didn't think they'd still fit." Tony looked down at the smooth black leather, remembering the last time he'd worn them. He couldn't remember the guy's name, but then again, that was kind of the point. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, feeling oddly uncomfortable.

"Mmm." And there was that non-committal sound again, and Tony wasn't sure what it meant.

"So, um--" Tony gestured awkwardly. "I should--"

"Tell me something, Tony," Gibbs said thoughtfully. "What would you do, if you'd been in there to have fun--if this had been five years ago?"

Tony groaned. "Gibbs, do we have to have this discussion here? Can't we just go home?"

Gibbs' mouth quirked in a smile. "Humor me for a moment. What would you have done?"

"The usual." Tony shrugged, mouth twisting in what could almost have been a grin. "Picked someone up, gotten picked up, had a few drinks. Just another Saturday night." He shook his head. "Just another night," he said under his breath. "Just one more day at the office."

Shit.

Gibbs nodded slowly. "And let me guess. You'd have gone to your apartment, or his, or maybe even gotten a hotel room, and spent the night fucking. And in the morning, it'd be like it never happened. Am I right?"

"Why do you care? I'm not doing that anymore. I'm with you." Tony took a deep breath. The wound on his arm was throbbing a little and he was starting to get cold in the night air. "Why does it matter what I used to do in bed, or with who? Why does it matter that I used to turn the lights off so I didn't have to see who I was fucking? Or that I never let anyone fuck me before? Why does it matter that it was all just sex, that none of it meant a damn thing?"

Gibbs smiled a little, and it made Tony's stomach clench. "Because I know, now," he said.

"Know what? That I used to go clubbing? Surprise, Gibbs, but I'm pretty sure everyone knows that." Tony glared at his lover, wondering what the hell Gibbs was pushing for. And why now, why here?

"Yeah, they do. No one else knows that you used to frequent the gay clubs, but that doesn't really matter." Gibbs made a dismissive gesture. "You were never really happy here, were you? You'd come back, weekend after weekend, looking for something you never found."

"So I dated a lot. Big deal." Tony crossed his arms over his chest. "But I don't screw around when I'm seeing someone, so what does it matter to you?"

Gibbs rested the tip of his finger in the hollow of Tony's collarbone. "What was it you were looking for, Tony? What couldn't you find?"

"I don't--" Tony tried to twist away. "Gibbs, it's late, I'm cold, I've got a knife wound in my arm, and I'd really like to just go home. Can we save the cryptic conversation for another time, please?"

Gibbs' finger pressed into Tony's throat.. "I know what you need, now," he said, and the tone of his voice made Tony want to fall to his knees. "And I'll give it to you. But there's no going back."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Tony fought back the weird urge to kneel; he had no idea where it had come from and was pretty sure he didn't want to know--except that part of him did.

"No, you don't. But that's all right." Gibbs smiled. "I'll teach you."

"Okay. Um. How about I go back to my apartment and you go home and in the morning we'll just chalk this up to a really weird night?" Tony offered weakly.

"No," Gibbs said softly.

"Okay. Right." Tony looked at Gibbs, trying to figure out what was going on. They'd only been together for a couple of months, and while it wasn't lifelong commitment, they weren't being all that casual, either.

The sex was...amazing. Fantastic. And Tony was perfectly happy with it. But Gibbs seemed to be hinting at something else here, something that was more...well, something more.

Tony couldn't help but be curious as to what Gibbs had been keeping from him.

The thought wormed its way into his brain and he looked down, wondering if Gibbs hadn't brought it up before because Tony wasn't enough. Because Gibbs wanted something Tony couldn't give him.

Gibbs tipped his chin up; Tony met his eyes and couldn't look away. "I'll teach you," Gibbs said again, voice as quiet as Tony had ever heard it. And there was that tone again, the one that made his stomach twist and his knees want to buckle and God, what was going on here?

"I--" He shook his head. "I don't--"

"It's very simple, Tony," Gibbs said, almost soothingly.

"Gibbs, nothing about this entire fucking conversation has been simple!" Tony exploded at him.

"Shh," Gibbs murmured, and Tony found himself dropping silent. "That's it. Just take it easy, Tony."

Tony shivered, not sure if it was from Gibbs or from the cold. "What do you want?" he asked, hating how plaintive he sounded.

Gibbs smiled, and the look in his eyes made Tony want to either kneel--or run away. "You."

"What?" Tony blinked. "Gibbs, I don't know what planet you're living on, but we're already sleeping together. I work for you. What more do you want? An oath of undying loyalty? My firstborn, should I have one? My soul?"

Gibbs smiled again, but this time it was more a genuine grin. "One of you is enough, Tony," he said wryly. "One of you is more than enough." He stepped closer, until he was almost pressed against Tony and his hand curled around the back of Tony's neck. "But the rest..." He leaned in and bit Tony's lower lip, tugging it gently between his teeth. "The rest," he whispered against Tony's mouth, "I'll take."

Tony froze, unable to move, think, speak...anything. My soul? My-- This couldn't be real. This was some bizarre dream, brought on by the cold night air, the loss of blood, the...something. But it wasn't real.

Gibbs chuckled and pulled back a little. "The thing about leather," he said idly, "is that it doesn't hide much." His other hand slid down between them and cupped Tony's half-hard dick through the pants, squeezing enough to make Tony gasp.

"We're in an alley, Gibbs," he managed, shivering. "We--"

"I always did appreciate your grasp of the obvious, Tony." Gibbs kissed him, slow and thorough, his hand tightening on Tony's neck.

Like every other time Gibbs had kissed him, Tony couldn't help but fall into it, his body relaxing against Gibbs' as he tasted coffee and cinnamon from Gibbs' mouth. But there was something different this time, something--

Gibbs wasn't sharing. He was taking, and Tony couldn't do anything but yield to him.

"I think you're starting to understand," Gibbs murmured against Tony's lips. "Or do I have to spell it out for you?"

"I--um--" Tony licked his lips and swallowed. "I'm just a dumb cop, Gibbs. What the hell is going on here?"

Gibbs chuckled, his hand releasing Tony's neck and sliding down his arm. "You never really wanted any of those pretty boys you used to fuck," he said softly. "You never wanted any of it."

"So what, you know what I--"

"I do," Gibbs said, cutting him off. He took Tony's wrist in his hand, thumb rubbing over the tendons. "I've been waiting," he said.

Tony stared at him. Every time he thought the night couldn't get any weirder, Gibbs proved him wrong. "What the hell are you talking about?" he managed.

"I thought I saw it in you. I wasn't sure." Gibbs shrugged. "And you never really gave me a sign. I couldn't tell if I was wrong, if you were hiding, or if you were just clueless."

"Saw what?" Tony demanded.

"I saw it tonight," Gibbs continued, ignoring the outburst. "I saw you and I realized that you had no idea."

"No idea about what?" Tony yanked his wrist away, a little surprised when Gibbs let him.

"You've felt it, Tony. You know. That hunger, that need--I know you've felt it. That's why you kept coming back to the clubs, looking for something to fill it. You didn't know what it was, but you felt it."

Tony swallowed hard. Something he'd never quite found, never really understood…

Gibbs smiled and took Tony's wrist again. "You want to belong," he said, so softly Tony had to strain to hear him. "You want someone to take you and make you his."

"No--" It was an instinctive denial, and Tony didn't know if it was because of what Gibbs had said or because of the way part of him felt like a puzzle piece had just fallen into place.

"Yes," Gibbs said simply.

"No!" Tony yanked away, stumbling back a few steps. "I don't belong to anyone, Gibbs. No one but myself."

"And you can think that, and you can act like that, and you'll end up with your bed empty more often than not because you're tired of dating the same girls and fucking the same boys and getting nowhere and still feeling like there's something missing," Gibbs told him. "Tony..." He smiled wryly. "I've had three wives. Don't you think I know the feeling?"

"Yeah, well. What you feel and what I feel aren't the same, okay?" Tony heard his voice rising defensively, but couldn't make himself calm down. "You're...you, and I'm--well, I'm not you! I don't want what you want! I don't need--whatever the hell it is you're saying. And I'm sorry if you don't like that and maybe we should call it quits or--"

Gibbs kissed him again, hard and demanding, hands gripping Tony's shoulders hard enough to leave marks. Tony tried to resist, tried to pull back, but--as always--he couldn't keep himself from melting against Gibbs, moaning into his mouth.

"Tell me that in the morning," Gibbs whispered.

"No--" Tony shook his head blindly. "Just because you can get me into bed doesn't mean anything. I'm a slut, Gibbs. Remember? Ziva would tell you that soon enough, so would--" He broke off on her name.

"Give me one night," Gibbs said after a pause. "Give me one night, Tony."

"Why?"

"Because I can show you. Because..." Gibbs sighed. "Because you're not the only one who needs."

"Damn you," Tony whispered, and he didn't know if he was talking to Gibbs or himself.

"Come home with me," Gibbs said. He hadn't released Tony yet, but he gentled his hold, his hands warm through Tony's T-shirt. "Let me show you."

Tony closed his eyes. He didn't want this. He did want this. He had no idea what he was getting into.

But he didn't want to swallow the blue pill.

Slowly, he nodded. "Let's go," he said.

The drive back to Gibbs' place was quiet, filled with a tension Tony didn't even pretend to understand or ignore. At least the heat was on, and if he still shivered a little inwardly, no one had to know that but him.

Gibbs parked the car and turned it off. For a moment, they both sat there; Tony wasn't sure what to do and Gibbs seemed to be...well, Tony couldn't read Gibbs.

"Come on," Gibbs said finally; Tony jumped a little at the sound. "Let's go inside."

Once in the door, Tony bent down to unlace his boots and pull them off, setting them on the mat by the front door. He shoved his socks into them and stood, facing Gibbs, who was just...watching him.

"Upstairs."

Tony decided not to wonder what it why that tone of voice kept making him want to kneel and--okay, upstairs. He could do that.

The wooden stairs were smooth under his bare feet and the seventh step creaked a bit, as it always did. The familiarity made him relax a little.

And then he was in Gibbs' bedroom, with the neatly made bed, the blue comforter and the white sheets and the old dresser with its worn brass knobs. The closet door was slightly ajar, the blinds were drawn, and it looked exactly like he'd seen it dozens of times before.

The door closed and he turned around to see Gibbs, who was watching him with a look Tony couldn't read.

"So--" he began, only to have Gibbs shake his head.

"You gave me tonight," he said quietly, evenly. "That means tonight you play by my rules."

Um. Okay. "You want to fill me in?" Tony asked with a grin, hoping Gibbs wouldn't see how false it was.

Gibbs just gave him a Look; Tony ducked his head, trying not to look too sheepish. "No," Gibbs said, and Tony's head shot up in surprise. That wasn't--"Don't hide from me," Gibbs told him. "For the rest of the night, Tony--you're mine. Everything you have is mine. Your body, your reactions...everything. Don't hold back, don't hide, just...surrender."

Somehow he'd taken the two steps forward to stand right against Tony, so close Tony felt the warmth of his body. "All of it," Gibbs said softly. "Everything, Tony. Just give it up."

His body was easy; Gibbs had that anyway, any time they were in bed. His reactions--much the same. But everything else? What did that encompass? His emotions? His thoughts? Tony closed his eyes, remembering.

My soul?

Gibbs brushed his fingers over Tony's mouth; without even thinking about it, Tony kissed them.

"That's good," Gibbs murmured approvingly. "Go with your instincts, Tony. Just stop thinking about it."

His instincts were torn between telling him to give in and telling him to run away, and he couldn't shut off his brain enough to relax. He shook his head, stepping back, holding up his hands. "No," he said, knowing he sounded anxious and not able to stop. "No, Gibbs, sorry, I can't do this--"

"Tony!" Gibbs' voice was a whip-crack in the room. "Stop."

He froze in place, hands still up as though he was trying to push something away.

"Why are you so scared?" Gibbs asked. He didn't step toward Tony, for which Tony was pathetically grateful. "Why, Tony? We've been involved for over two months now. Are you really that afraid to let me in?"

"You want too much," Tony managed. "Isn't this enough, Gibbs? Isn't what we have enough?"

Gibbs just looked at him steadily. For a long moment, he didn't say anything. "Is it enough for you?" he asked quietly.

God, no, but--"It has to be," Tony said desperately. "I can't--this is all I've got, Gibbs."

"Tony..." Gibbs smiled faintly. "Do you honestly think I'd have kissed you that first time if this was all you had? If this was all you could give me?"

"I can't be what you want!" Tony threw at him.

"Why?"

He closed his eyes, fighting for control. "Because what you want--who you want--he doesn't exist. You want someone I don't even know how to be. You think I'm looking for something I can't find, and you know what that is, but do you even know who I am? I can't be what you want, Gibbs. I can't be what anyone wants, and..." Tony ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry," he said abruptly. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be anyone," Gibbs said into the silence. "I don't want you to act a part. I want you, Tony."

Tony looked down at the taut leather of his pants. "I don't know who that is," he whispered.

"No one ever does," Gibbs said quietly. He held out a hand. "C'mere, Tony."

Slowly, Tony crossed back to him, taking the hand Gibbs held out and letting himself be drawn into Gibbs' arms. He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against Gibbs' shoulder, and breathed out, wishing he could just stay there.

"Just this, Tony," Gibbs murmured against his hair. "No masks. No pretense." He paused, and Tony could almost feel him fighting to find the words. "Think you can do it if I can?"

"I don't know," Tony admitted into Gibbs' shirt. "I don't know." He took a deep breath.

Some things were worth the risk.

"But I'll try."

Gibbs' arms tightened around him. "Me too," he said quietly.

They stayed like that for a while; Tony had no perception of time and didn't really care. But eventually, Gibbs pulled back a little and tipped his chin up. "I meant what I said, earlier," Gibbs told him.

"You said a lot of stuff earlier, Gibbs," Tony pointed out. "Which part?"

Gibbs cuffed him lightly. "I think you know."

"I'm the dumb cop, remember? I don't--" Tony yelped as Gibbs smacked him upside the head again.

"You know better than that," Gibbs told him. "You play dumb with everyone else, and it works. But I know you better."

Tony looked down. "I don't--I don't want to belong to someone," he said, but he wasn't sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

"You want to belong," Gibbs said softly.

"Everyone does. No man is an island and all that." Tony shrugged. "Who said that, anyway? Because, really. Human beings and physical land masses? Not really a great comparison."

"Where do you fit?" Gibbs ignored the tangent.

Tony shrugged again. "Lots of places. I fit on your team, I fit with my friends--"

"Where do you fit?" Gibbs asked again.

"I don't know." It slipped out before he could catch it and he closed his eyes, cursing his mouth.

"Then where do you want to fit?"

"Do we have to have this conversation? God, Gibbs, what's wrong with what we have? Why do you have to keep pushing?" Tony demanded. "Why is it all or nothing with you?"

"Because after three wives, I learned that settling for anything less wasn't worth it," Gibbs said evenly.

Tony stepped back, running a hand through his hair. "Well, then, it's--" But he froze on the words.

Gibbs shoved his hands into his pockets. "It's not nothing, Tony. Don't tell me it is."

"God." Tony looked up at the ceiling. "No. It's not nothing, okay? It's...I don't even know what this is, what..." He shook his head. "I don't even know. But you're telling me I want something I've never thought about, something I don't even understand, and I don't know where you got that idea, let alone decide it's something I need when I barely understand what you're talking about!" He glared at Gibbs, breathing hard.

"I'm asking you where you want to belong," Gibbs said. "Answer me that, and--"

"And what?" Tony demanded. "Do you really want to know, Gibbs? Do you really want to hear how pathetic it is? Yes, okay? You're right. I shouldn't be surprised--God knows you're almost never wrong, so I really shouldn't think that for once I might know me better than you do. How stupid of me to think that for once, you were barking up the wrong tree. Because you're right, okay? All the times I went to the clubs, all the boys I picked up--hell, all the girls I picked up--it didn't mean anything. It never did. It never has. And I kept going back, time after time, because I kept hoping I'd find something different, someone different. But I never did."

He took a deep breath, trying to calm down a little. "And then you kissed me. Out of nowhere, and suddenly it's like I'm on the roller-coaster from hell, because I'm going from working with you to sleeping with you to spending the night with you when it's safe--in a relative sense. And it's different, and it's not like anything I've ever had before, and I'm still trying to figure out what to make of it all, and now this? Don't ask me where I want to belong, because I don't know. Don't ask me to make this all or nothing, because I don't know if I can give you that. Don't make me choose, Gibbs. Not tonight. Because I don't know what I'd say, and..."

Tony stopped. "Don't push me, Gibbs," he said quietly. "Because I don't know what you'll get."

Gibbs just watched him, expression guarded, giving nothing away.

It was a Mexican standoff, Tony thought tiredly. Gibbs wouldn't--probably couldn't--say anything and Tony...had nothing left to say.

"Do you know why I hired you?" Gibbs said finally, and that was so unexpected Tony just stared at him, not quite sure he'd heard correctly.

"Do I know why you hired me?" he repeated. "I thought..." And then he had to stop, because he wasn't sure. Gibbs had never really said. "My work on the Giovanni case? Recommendation from Wilkerson? No, wait, he'd have given you crap. Um..."

"Actually, he didn't, but that's not the point." Gibbs shrugged. "And it wasn't your work on the Giovanni case, or your work on the Brady case, or any other case you closed in Baltimore, or Philly, or Peoria. It wasn't any of that."

"Then...I have no idea." Tony shook his head, wondering where Gibbs was going with this.

"It was you," Gibbs said quietly. "I watched you during the Brady case, after it meshed with NCIS. And I saw you tracking down leads, going after anything and everything that could help. You're good, Tony. I wouldn't have hired you if you weren't. But you've got that something extra that makes an agent. You've got that drive. That's why I hired you."

"So what does that have to do with this?"

Gibbs scrubbed a hand over his face. "When I kissed you..." he said, slowly. "I didn't know what the hell I'd just done, Tony. You could have ruined my career, if you'd wanted to. I went on gut instinct."

"Trust your gut," Tony murmured.

"And it worked." Gibbs shrugged. "But I thought I saw something in you, like I'd seen it during the Brady case. And..." He sighed. "Drive and hunger go together. I saw that drive in you; I wasn't too surprised to see the hunger as well."

"But hunger for what?" Tony demanded.

Gibbs glared at him. "That's what I've been trying to tell you," he said impatiently. "Where do you belong, Tony? Where do you want to belong? Top of your head, don't think about it, just tell me. Where do you want to belong?"

"With you."

Tony stared at Gibbs, unsure whether to laugh or cry at what he'd just said.

"And that's what I've been trying to tell you," Gibbs said, and if he'd sounded at all patronizing or smug Tony would have decked him. But he didn't. Just...patient. "That's what I can give you, Tony."

"Why?" Tony asked.

Something clouded Gibbs' eyes for a moment. "I told you before," he said quietly. "You're not the only one who needs."

Tony wasn't sure he wanted to hear that.

"Three wives," Gibbs said, still quiet. "I had three wives and I didn't understand with any of them. Maybe, with Shannon--" He cut off, jaw tensing. "It doesn't matter."

Another night, another time, and Tony would have pushed, but not now. "What do you want, Gibbs?" he asked, licking dry lips.

"You," Gibbs said simply.

"Right. Been there, been over that, I don't--"

"Tony." Gibbs didn't change the tone of his voice, and yet Tony fell silent. "Just...stop thinking for a night. Just let yourself feel. Can you do that for me? One night?"

"I don't know." Tony looked down at the wooden floor with its old scuff marks from furniture, the even line of the comforter, its shadow stopping just short of his feet. "I don't..." He closed his eyes.

No masks. No pretense.

Where do you want to belong?

He let out a deep breath, trying to find something to hold onto, something stable he could use to ground himself. Something...

...or someone.

With you.

"One night," he whispered, and he didn't know if it was to himself or to Gibbs. "That's...that's all I can give you right now."

"That's all I'm asking for."

"Right." Tony ran a hand through his hair. He didn't know what to do, what to say; he felt like he was on his first date with Sophia Marconi, back in ninth grade. Only Gibbs wasn't a fourteen-year-old girl with waist-length curly dark hair and breasts that--well, anyway.

Gibbs slid his hands out of his pockets. "C'mere," he said softly.

Two steps, and he was close enough to touch. Two steps, and he could see the fabric of Gibbs' shirt move as he breathed.

"Do you trust me?" Gibbs asked quietly.

With my life. "You know I do," he said, swallowing.

"No. I know you trust me to have your six. I know you trust me in the field. Do you trust me here, Tony? Now?"

He almost felt like laughing--or maybe crying. He wasn't sure which. But for Gibbs to ask him that...God, how fucked up was this? "Yes," he said, somehow keeping his voice even.

Gibbs ran his fingers through Tony's hair, scratching his scalp lightly. "Close your eyes."

Tony let out a breath and closed his eyes.

No more questions. No more arguments. Just...this.

Gibbs' hands were warm on his face, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones. "Kiss me," he murmured, and Tony let Gibbs guide him and let himself fall into the kiss, yielding easily to Gibbs. He felt cold and hot and shaky all at once and found his own hands on Gibbs' waist for balance, pulling him closer.

One kiss became another, and then another, and somewhere in there Tony gave up on even trying to focus on reality. He found himself on the bed, Gibbs on top of him, pressing him down, and had no idea how he'd gotten there but he didn't have the ability to wonder and he couldn't bring himself to care. Gibbs' hands slid up under his T-shirt, pulling it off; Tony sucked in a breath and arched into Gibbs' touch and tried to pull him down into another kiss, but Gibbs didn't let him.

"Shh," Gibbs whispered against his skin, nuzzling his throat. He scraped his teeth over the line of Tony's jaw, bit down over his pulse. Tony gasped and his head fell to the side and God, they'd done this before but never, not like this, not with this level of...and he couldn't find the word and it didn't matter anyway.

Gibbs caught his wrists and kissed the inside of each, his grip tightening briefly around them, enough to make Tony shudder instinctively. "Don't move," Gibbs whispered, pressing Tony's wrists down into the pillow, over his head.

He tried to stay still, to keep his arms where Gibbs had put them, but Gibbs was touching him now, hands sliding over his body, and something felt different and strange inside him and right all at once and he had no idea what it was.

"Shh," Gibbs whispered, kissing his temple, the spot just behind his jaw. "Just give in to it, Tony."

But he didn't know what it was and he didn't know what he was feeling or why. Panic began to rise in his throat and he didn't know what was causing it--or how to fight it back. Tony swallowed, trying to relax, to stay still like Gibbs had told him, but..."I can't," he said, twisting away. "I can't, Gibbs, I'm sorry--"

But Gibbs just caught Tony up in his arms, holding him, kissing the top of his head. "Shh," he murmured. "Take it easy, Tony. I've got you. It's okay."

Ironic, given that Gibbs was the cause of this, but Tony huddled against him, unable to do anything else.

"What did you feel like?" Gibbs asked softly. "Before you got scared."

"I don't know." Tony shook his head, swallowing. "It was…I mean…" He took a deep breath, trying to get his thoughts in order. "It felt…different. Like nothing else mattered. Like…almost like I was meditating, but every part of me was focused on this." He shook his head again. "On you. And…I don't know. I didn't know how to stop that."

"Why did you want to?" Gibbs asked, stroking a lock of hair back.

"I…" Tony sighed. "I felt like I wanted it too much, and I didn't know…I wanted some control back."

Gibbs chuckled softly. "And yet that's what I'm asking you to do, Tony."

"I don't follow." Tony pulled back to look at him.

"That's what I'm asking you for. Control." Gibbs kissed his lips gently. "I'm asking you to give that to me for tonight."

Tony looked down. "I don't…" He sighed. This was Gibbs. This wasn't some stranger in a club, or someone he'd picked up at a bar. This was Gibbs, and if he couldn't trust Gibbs enough for this, then, well, there was really no point to him being there. "Okay," he said, taking a deep breath. "Okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Tony nodded. "Yeah."

"Just let yourself feel it," Gibbs said, easing him back down on the bed. "Anything you feel. Just let it happen."

Tony closed his eyes. He was already starting to notice that meditative-focused feeling, noticing vaguely that it got stronger when Gibbs kissed his wrists and settled them above his head.

Gibbs kissed him again, slow and deep, and by the time he pulled back Tony was almost completely lost in it. Gibbs kissed his eyelids, his forehead; with each brush of his lips, a little more nervousness ebbed away.

"Like that," Gibbs murmured. "Just like that. Can you keep your eyes closed?"

"I don't--I don't know." That seemed to be his statement for the night; it almost made him laugh before he quashed the sentiment.

"Okay." Gibbs' weight shifted and Tony heard the sound of a drawer opening next to him. He wanted, badly, to look, but he managed not to.

Something cool and silky fitted around his eyes and Gibbs lifted his head a little to fasten it in the back. "Okay?" Gibbs asked.

Tony had a feeling Gibbs wasn't referring to how the blindfold--and why the fuck did Gibbs have a blindfold in his nightstand anyway?--fit. "Yeah," he said, his voice raspy. "It's...yeah." He hoped.

"Tell me if it's not." Gibbs kissed him gently. "I don't want--"

"It's okay," Tony interrupted more forcefully. "It's...it's okay." He took a deep breath, settling into it. Not a big deal, really; he'd been blindfolded before.

Just...never with Gibbs.

Gibbs brushed his fingers over Tony's face, over his mouth, and like before, Tony kissed them automatically. His lips parted a little and he licked the pad of Gibbs' finger, tasting a hint of salt and feeling the roughness of Gibbs' skin, the calluses from the boat and his gun.

On impulse, he drew Gibbs' finger further into his mouth; he was a little surprised to hear Gibbs' sharp intake of breath, as well as his soft groan when Tony bit it gently. The sound sent a shiver through him in response and he sucked a little harder, wanting to hear it again.

Slowly, Gibbs pulled his finger out of Tony's mouth, tracing Tony's lips. "Don't move," he murmured again.

Tony didn't think he could.

He groaned involuntarily when Gibbs unsnapped his pants and drew down the zipper; it felt too good to be unconstrained by the leather. "Skipped the underwear, Tony?" Gibbs asked in amusement.

"Would've shown," he managed.

Gibbs laughed and kissed him again, nipping his lower lip. "Or you just wanted to show off." He trailed his fingers over Tony's cock, cupping his balls lightly.

"Hey," Tony said around a gasp. "If you've got it..."

"Mm-hmm." Gibbs ran his hands up Tony's thighs, blunt nails digging in through the leather.

Tony couldn't remember how long it had taken him to get into the pants, but he was pretty sure Gibbs was taking a lot longer to get him out of them. And it wasn't because they were so tight--no, Gibbs was just peeling them off one millimeter at a time.

He was ready to scream by the time they were off and Gibbs crawled up his body again, skin sliding over skin and God it was so good he almost forgot and reached for Gibbs' arms, wanting to pull him closer. But he remembered at the last moment, whimpering a little in frustration--and wasn't that an embarrassing sound?

But Gibbs didn't seem to mind, didn't seem to even notice, although Tony was sure he did. Gibbs didn't miss anything.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to have you like this," Gibbs whispered against Tony's neck, his tongue tracing the tendon, flicking Tony's earlobe. "No idea."

Tony shuddered, licking dry lips.

Gibbs kissed his collarbone, then his sternum, working his way down Tony's chest. His hands slid under Tony's back, lifting him a little, arching him back just a bit. With his wrists over his head and the blindfold over his face, Tony felt almost like a ritual sacrifice.

He only hoped he'd survive the night.

But he couldn't really think about that, couldn't really think about anything, because Gibbs' mouth was on his nipples, teasing them, playing with them, and Tony lost most of his higher brain functions when Gibbs bit down and oh Christ but that was so fucking good.

Normally he couldn't take much of this; his nipples were sensitive as it was and it wasn't long before it was too much. Only this wasn't normal and Gibbs wasn't stopping and Tony couldn't remember how to speak--he was having enough trouble remembering how to breathe. He could only squirm under Gibbs' mouth, panting and trying not to listen to the sounds he was making.

Gibbs laid him back down against the bed, fingers running over his ribs; Tony gasped and twisted, not sure whether he was close to laughing or whimpering. He was still trying to catch his breath when Gibbs pushed his legs apart gently, hands smoothing his skin, thumbs rubbing over the crease between groin and thigh.

He found his voice, hoarse and husky though it was. "Gibbs," he managed. "Gibbs, please..."

"Do you even know what you're asking for?" Gibbs asked softly.

Tony had to shake his head because truth was, he didn't know, he had no idea what he wanted, only that it was something more than this. Something...

You want someone to take you and make you his.

No. Yes. He couldn't think, couldn't answer. That wasn't it. But...no. Yes. God. "Gibbs..." He heard the desperation in his voice and couldn't even care.

It was like it was some kind of signal; as soon as he spoke Gibbs' mouth was on his again, hard, hungry, possessive. Taking--demanding everything Tony had. And Tony couldn't hold back this time.

He gulped in a breath when Gibbs let him up, but it didn't help. He felt dizzy and adrift and it wasn't due to the oxygen he couldn't seem to get into his lungs.

"I've got you," Gibbs whispered against his mouth. "I've got you."

Tony could only cling to that.

Gibbs' weight left him for a moment, but then his hand was on Tony's stomach and Tony smelled the lube they used. Tony didn't wait for him to ask; he drew up his legs, bending his knees, and heard Gibbs' chuckle in response. "Yeah," Gibbs said huskily, kissing Tony's thigh. "Like that."

One finger slid into him slowly, carefully; Tony bit his lip and focused on relaxing.

He didn't want it to be slow and gentle. He wanted to feel this, feel the burn and the stretch and the hint of pain as Gibbs fucked him.

But he couldn't say that and he couldn't move and Gibbs was taking his own sweet time with one finger before even teasing his hole with a second.

"Enough," he almost-begged when Gibbs had two fingers inside him, still slow and careful. "Gibbs, I won't break, c'mon, fuck me..."

Gibbs bit his throat. "Ask me nicely," he said, voice low and raspy. "Ask me, and I'll give you what you want."

Tony swallowed, the word frozen on his lips, because something told him this wasn't just about one time. This wasn't just about getting fucked.

Where do you wantto belong?

With you.

"Please," he whispered. "Gibbs, please."

Gibbs' fingers pulled out of him so fast Tony was left gasping; he barely had a chance to adjust to the empty feeling before Gibbs' hands were pushing his legs up and back and Gibbs' cock was pressing into him and it was everything he wanted, everything he needed and he half-sobbed from it all.

He grabbed for the pillows, the comforter, something to hold on to, something to remind him that this was real. Anything to make him feel like this was actually happening, that he wasn't dreaming it.

They weren't fucking; they weren't even having sex. Gibbs was taking him, owning him, and Tony had given up the battle to pretend he didn't want it. He managed to brace his hands against the headboard, moving with Gibbs, a willing victim to anything Gibbs wanted from him.

Anything.

He licked sweat off his upper lip, trying to reach up for a kiss, but Gibbs wouldn't give it to him and Tony didn't have the leverage to protest. He whined, not knowing why, but then Gibbs bit him, right where his neck met his shoulder and he cried out--whether in pain or pleasure he had no idea.

He didn't care; it was just one more sensation, one more feeling.

His cock was iron-hard against his stomach, precome leaking on to his skin, and for once he thought he might actually come without being touched. He was so close as it was--his whle body thrummed with need and he thought he might actually be physically vibrating with it.

And Gibbs kissed him, claiming his mouth, and Tony gasped and shuddered into the kiss and came. The world went graywhite and he heard a roaring in his ears, not really noticing anything else, even when Gibbs groaned and came inside him, his breathing a harsh counterpoint to Tony's own.

Eventually, the world returned; Gibbs had cleaned them both off with tissues and pulled Tony against him when Tony wasn't aware.

"Close your eyes," Gibbs said hoarsely. "I need to take the blindfold off."

Tony nodded. His eyes were already closed behind the satiny fabric but he squeezed them shut as Gibbs unfastened it and tossed it aside. Even the soft light of the bedroom was too bright at first, until his eyes adjusted a bit.

With a sigh, he settled down against Gibbs, his head on Gibbs' shoulder and one arm thrown across Gibbs' body. "This doesn't...I mean..." He stopped, unsure what he wanted to say.

"Shh," Gibbs murmured, stroking Tony's hair. "Don't, Tony. Don't think about it."

"Easier said than done," Tony mumbled.

Gibbs tipped his chin up and kissed him lightly. "We'll think about it later," he said quietly. "All right?"

He was too tired to form a coherent argument, even if he'd wanted to. "All right," he agreed.

"C'mon." Gibbs tugged at the comforter and they managed to get under it, Tony settling back down against Gibbs as soon as possible. "Sleep, Tony, and we'll talk about it later."

He still had no idea what 'it' was, so talking about it was going to be interesting. But he sure as hell didn't have the energy or the brain capacity to deal with it now. With a yawn, he nodded, closing his eyes.

Gibbs kissed the top of his head, stroking his hair, and Tony fell asleep to the sound of Gibbs' heartbeat under his ear.