Summary: Introductions can change your life. Jethro Gibbs and Jack O'Neill -- can you imagine what happens when two alpha males, such as these, collide? Or better yet, imagine their relationship complicated by the addition of Teal'c and Tony. Life will never be the same.
Categories: Orphan Characters: None
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, Drama, Established relationship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort
Pairing: Other Pairing
Warnings: Multiple partners
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 16 Completed: Yes
Word count: 64558 Read: 96772
Published: 05/07/2006 Updated: 04/19/2008
1. Introductions, Chapter 1 by angelise7
2. Introductions, Chapter 2 by angelise7
3. Introductions, Chapter 3 by angelise7
4. Introductions, Chapter 4 by angelise7
5. Introductions, Chapter 5 by angelise7
6. Introductions, Chapter 6 by angelise7
7. Introductions, Chapter 7 by angelise7
8. Introductions, Chapter 8 by angelise7
9. Introductions, Chapter 9 by angelise7
10. Introductions, Chapter 10 by angelise7
11. Introductions, Chapter 11 by angelise7
12. Introductions, Chapter 12 by angelise7
13. Introductions, Chapter 13 by angelise7
14. Introductions, Chapter 14 by angelise7
15. Introductions, Chapter 15 by angelise7
16. Introductions -- the Final chapter by angelise7
Introductions, Chapter 1 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Introductions can change your life. Jethro Gibbs and Jack O'Neill -- can you imagine what happens when two alpha males, such as these, collide?
And what do you think happens when a certain Anthony DiNozzo enters the picture and not only catches Jack's eye but a certain Jaffa warrior's as well?
Hmmm . . .
Introductions 1
By
Angelise
+++++++
Donald Mallard smiled at the tall, handsome gentleman making his way through the hungry crowd of lunchtime patrons waiting to be seated. His smile turned into a frown when he noticed the signs of stress on his friend's face, and he promised himself there and then to correct whatever was causing the problem.
Scooting back his chair, the Medical Examiner stood and embraced the younger man, hugging him with great enthusiasm before kissing him lovingly on the cheek. "Jack, it's been way too long since our last visit. Promise me you won't wait another four months before you again favor me with your delightful presence."
"You know the military, Ducky. Work, work, work." Jack O'Neill took a seat next to the older man and briefly gripped his hand. "Are the steaks here still the best in town?"
Ducky picked up his menu and perused the selections. "Marcus wouldn't have it any other way. Only the best quality for his clientele."
"And how is the old queen?" Jack asked, setting his menu down and taking a sip of the beer Ducky had had the foresight to order the moment Jack arrived.
"Marcus is doing quite well. He and Simon are celebrating their 25th anniversary together this month." Ducky collected a roll from the linen-covered basket sitting in the center of the table and broke it in half. "They plan on renewing their vows in a private ceremony. You're invited, of course" He slathered his roll heavily with the freshly made butter provided and popped it in his mouth, groaning in ecstasy when the sinfully light-as-air bread nearly melted on his tongue.
"Email me the exact date, and I'll try my best to come." Jack leaned forward, and with a chuckle, brushed free the stray crumb clinging to the corner of Ducky's mouth. His hand was immediately caught and squeezed gently before he could withdraw it to his side of the table.
"I was sorry to hear of Daniel's death, Jack. How are you coping with the loss?" Ducky moved his chair closer to the silent man. "I realize the two of you had only just begun to date but still, I'm sure his death must have caused you great pain." A faraway look came over Jack's face, and the mysterious smile that soon followed completely confused Ducky.
"Yeah, it hurt like hell, a real sucker punch to the heart, Ducky. But I'm okay with it now." Jack waved a hand in the air, indicating the restaurant Ducky had invited him to. "I must be okay, right? I'm here, aren't I? Ready to meet this man you're dying to introduce me to."
Ducky fondly ruffled Jack's hair. "Jethro should be here shortly, and I'm quite sure the two of you are going to hit it off spectacularly."
"You said on the phone that he's been married twice. Why all of the sudden is he switching teams?" Jack spared a smile for the waiter who, without asking, brought him a fresh glass of beer. "Thanks."
"I might ask you the same question, my boy. Having known you since your teens, why did you switch teams and marry Sarah?"
Feeling the weight of Ducky's inquisitive stare, Jack squirmed in his chair. He had never revealed the true reason for marrying his first ex-wife to Ducky, and he wasn't quite sure he wanted to do so now.
"Jack," Ducky said quietly, "we all make mistakes, and I myself have no room to pass judgment."
The Air Force Colonel closely examined his friend's eyes and found only concern and understanding in their depths. Sighing, he took a bracing sip of beer, grimacing slightly when the taste vividly reminded him of the tale he was about to share with his lunch companion.
"You remember Adam Pierson? Well, one day out of the blue, he decided it was time to move on. Dumped me on my ass the night before graduation. I was mad as hell and decided the best thing to do was to drown my sorrows in a case of beer. Sarah was the one who found me drunk as a skunk, and as it is with all heartbroken fools, one thing led to another." Jack paused to place his order. "Exactly four weeks after we did the deed, she informed me she was pregnant."
Lifting his glass, he tilted it in Ducky's direction. "Now, I may be a lot of things but irresponsible is not one of them. I did the honorable thing and married Sarah. It wasn't easy giving up men, but the moment my son was placed in my hands, I vowed to live the straight life and did so until our divorce." Jack took the buttered roll Ducky handed to him and munched away. "What's your friend's story?" he asked after licking his fingers clean.
"Like you, Jethro is gay. Regrettably, instead of pursuing what, no doubt, could have been a brilliant academic career, he dedicated his life to the military. It was a way for him to escape his small town upbringing. Jethro enlisted straight out of high school, and it wasn't long before he realized being a Marine and being homosexual would not work for him. Unwilling to jeopardize his career, the dear boy attempted to live a life that, as you now know, proved unsuccessful not once but twice." Ducky signaled for their waiter to bring him another glass of wine. "I have spoken with Jethro at great lengths recently and believe I have convinced him of the error of his ways."
"I hope so, Ducky," Jack said with a grin that turned into a suggestive leer, " 'cause from all that you've told me, I have a feeling this Jethro Gibbs is just the man for me. Not to mention that picture you emailed me has kept my dreams steamy hot and my sheets sticky wet."
Jack's laughter was a balm to Ducky's anxious heart. He had no doubt his two favorite ?sons' were a perfect match for each other. "Would you excuse me for a moment?" he asked as he scooted back his chair. "I need to visit the gentlemen's room."
Pushing through the throng of people gathered near the bar, Ducky was caught by surprise when his arm was nearly pulled out of its socket.
"Ducky Mallard, you sly devil! Where in the world have you been hiding these past few months?"
Ducky swallowed back the sour taste that flooded his mouth the instant Marissa Grant's shrill voice assaulted his ears. He pasted on a smile and turned toward the tall, willowy redhead. "How good to see you again, Marissa. And your father? How is he?"
"The old man misses you, Ducky. Misses you quite a lot, if you get my drift," the woman replied with a knowing wink.
Jacob Grant had been a major mistake and was one of the reasons Ducky would never pass judgment on any of his friends. "Give your father my regards, Marissa. Now, if you would excuse me." Ducky tried to slip past but his way was blocked, and when a pair of male hands settled down on his shoulders he verbally took their owner to task. "If you don't mind, sir, I would appreciate it if you would kindly remove your hands from my person and step aside."
"Ducky, I swear the next time you talk me into joining you for lunch, we're going . . . hello, I'm Jethro Gibbs."
Ducky nearly growled with frustration when Jethro stepped past him and took Marissa's hand in his. "Jethro, I believe you've made a false assumption. This is not . . . ."
"Introduce us, Ducky."
"But, Jethro." Steel gray blue eyes locked with his, and their intensity had Ducky taking an involuntary step back.
"Ducky, no arguments. Introduce the beautiful lady to me, now."
Ducky cast a glance over his shoulder and sighed in disgust. "Oh hell." Squaring his shoulders, he complied with his friend's demand. "Jethro Gibbs, may I introduce you to Miss Marissa Grant. She's the daughter of an old acquaintance."
"Can I interest you in a drink, Miss Marissa Grant?"
"You may indeed, Mr. Gibbs."
"Call me Jethro, please."
Stamping his foot, Ducky watched in horror as Jethro escorted Marissa to the bar and slipped his arm around her slender waist. "Go ahead, Jethro. Play your little charade. We both know how it will end."
Ducky turned on his heel and angrily strode back to his table. Resuming his seat next to Jack, he gazed unhappily at the steaming plate of Trout Almondine placed before him. "Jack, an unfortunate meeting has delayed Jethro, and I'm sorry to say this delay will last at least a good six months or so. Until then, may I interest you in a colleague of mine who, at this moment, resides in Las Vegas?"
End of Chapter 1
End Notes:
Summary for this chapter: Not actually a spoiler for the episode, 'Blackwater,' but it is based on Ducky's confession that it was he who introduced Jethro to his third wife.
Introductions, Chapter 2 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Jethro is introduced to the Mighty O'Neill.
Introductions 2
by
Angelise
+++++++
Enjoying the last bite of his steak, Jack listened to Ducky ramble on about a rather unpleasant autopsy. He did nothing to hide the wistful smile that appeared on his face when he thought of how proud Daniel would have been of him for not once yawning during the gruesome but totally boring narrative. 'Miss you, Space Monkey,' Jack fondly thought of his former teammate and friend.
A movement out of the corner of his eye caught Jack's attention, and after taking a sip of his beer, he quickly rose to his feet. "Be right back, Ducky. Time to check out the little boy's room." The handsome officer paused to hug his lunch companion before following after the tall, lean form of one very sexy and highly desirable Jethro Gibbs.
Ducky had invited Jack to lunch with the intention of introducing him to Jethro. The man was one of Ducky's oldest friends, and a perfect match for Jackto the ME. Unfortunately a redhead of the female persuasion, one who obviously existed on carrot sticks and celery alone had waylaid his date and from the look of things had sunk her claws into Jethro with absolutely no plans of letting go.
Not that Jethro appeared bothered by the fact, Jack mused. From what Ducky had told him, the former Marine was in serious denial of his desire for men and had in the past walked down the aisle with not one but two women. And, if Jack's keen sense of observation was anything to go by, Jethro would soon be taking that stroll one more time.
"But not before you get a taste of the Mighty O'Neill."
Jack had been immensely intrigued by the way Jethro had looked at him when the man finally made his way to their table. There was a definite glint of interest in those glacier blue eyes, and Jack decided right then and there to see exactly how interested in him was Special Agent Jethro Gibbs.
Jack followed closely behind Jethro, pausing at the door of the men's restroom to growl a warning at the pigeon-toed baldie trying to enter at the same time. "Off limits, Hoss. Either you cross your legs and hold it or take it across the street." A second growl accompanied by the patented O'Neill glare was enough to send the older man scurrying back to his seat, and Jack grinned victoriously as he pushed open the door and entered the restroom.
Except for Jethro and one other restaurant patron, the room was basically empty. The man at the sink was leisurely drying his hands while staring at his reflection in the mirror, but after one glance at Jack's face, he hurriedly tossed the paper towels he was using into the garbage receptacle and fled. Jack slowly approached Jethro and leaned an arm on the side of the urinal's porcelain stall. "Nice weapon," he murmured softly after taking a second to appraise the man's long, thick, uncut penis, which just happened to be the very type Jack loved feasting upon.
Jethro's fist came out of nowhere, but the NCIS agent was no match for Jack. Have spent countless hours in hand to hand combat training with both Teal'c and Master Brayta'c, the SG-1 teamleader had no problem subduing Jethro. Keeping one hand on the base of the man's neck, he pinned Jethro's arm behind his back and marched him into the farthest stall from the door.
"Ducky sends his regards," Jack whispered in Jethro's ear, pausing to lick the skin behind the ear before biting down hard on its lobe.
Releasing Jethro's arm, Jack transferred his hand to the man's crotch and grinned when his fingers encountered a diamond-hard erection that made his ass twitch in cheerful anticipation.
"Name's Jack, Jack O'Neill, remember? A mutual friend of ours, Ducky to be exact, tells me you're having trouble accepting the fact that you're gay." Jack squeezed Jethro's straining shaft. "Seems this big boy knows the score. Maybe you should listen to him instead of that gray lump residing between your ears."
Jack swung Jethro around and was surprised to see the glitter of sheer hunger in the man's eyes. He had expected hatred, anger, denial, anything but the unbelievable lust that was turning Jethro's blue-gray eyes into a fathomless shade of black.
"It's killing you, ain't it, this hunger? This hunger that has not one fucking thing to do with women." Jack expertly loosened Jethro's belt and slacks, pulling down his briefs and chuckling when the man's erection sprang out like a snake striking at its prey. "Can you honestly tell me you want Ms. Skinny Minnie's ice cold hands pleasuring this big boy?"
Jack wrapped his hand around Jethro's shaft and watched in satisfaction at the way Jethro closed his eyes and groaned. "Admit it, Gibbs, you want this. You want a man's hands on your body, a man's mouth kissing you, a man's dick shoving its way down your throat."
Jack laughed when a growl so much like his own shattered the silence a second before Jethro pinned him to the stall door. He continued laughing softly while his clothes were pushed aside, his cock freed from the sticky confines of his jeans. His laughter was choked off though when his erection was swallowed by a fiery inferno, and he slammed his head back, seeing a brief shower of stars after his skull came into contact with the unforgiving metal frame of the door behind him.
The second his vision cleared Jack looked down and lost the ability to breathe when he saw the ravenous way Jethro was sucking him to climax. The man was acting like he was starved for dick, and according to Ducky, Jack recalled, he was. The ME confessed that as far as he knew Jethro had denied his homosexuality for over two decades if not more.
The thought of going that long without the comfort of loving a man touched a tender spot in Jack's heart, and he gently cupped the back of Jethro's head, threading his fingers through the man's shortly cropped hair. He then brushed his thumbs over Jethro's cheeks, allowing them to slip lower and trace the lips that were locked around his organ.
The fierce shudder that warned him of his impending orgasm clutched at his balls, and Jack hoarsely whispered to his companion. "That's it, babe. Feed the beast inside you."
Jethro's greedy moan welcomed every drop of semen Jack had to offer, and it was all the off-world soldier could do to keep his trembling legs from dropping him on his ass. The second Jethro pulled away, Jack hauled the man into his arms and devoured the taste of his release that visibly stained Jethro's lips. Maintaining the sloppy wet and noisy liplock they were both enjoying, Jack reclaimed Jethro's manhood and with a few, quick jerks of his hand brought the man off, inhaling deeply when the scent of steamy semen saturated the cool air-conditioned air.
"You fucking bastard," Jethro muttered once Jack released his mouth. With shaking hands he ripped a wad of toilet paper free and briskly cleaned his exposed genitals. Throwing the paper in the toilet, he pinned Jack with an uncompromising stare and barked out a threat that brought a smirk to the other man's face. "I should have your ass arrested for assault."
Jack merely straightened his clothes before following Jethro out of the stall. They were thankfully still the restroom's only occupants, and it was a fact that Jack took full advantage of. He grabbed Jethro by the shoulders and sucked on the man's neck, leaving a hickey that even a blind man could see. "You want my ass, that's for certain, Gibbs," Jack agreed as he softly kissed the flesh he had just bruised with his mouth. "But it's not for arresting and throwing in jail, is it?"
Turning the silent man around, Jack gathered Gibbs close and kissed him thoroughly, taking his time to tenderly explore that which, with patience and time, would be his one day.
Jethro jerked free, and with clenched fists turned on his heel and strode toward the exit. His ramrod straight spine made Jack grin because it so reminded him of how he used to be before Daniel came into his life.
"Go ahead, Gibbs, run," Jack called out. "You can run but you can't hide. Not from the truth, that's for sure." Jethro paused at the door, and Jack swore he saw the man's shoulders droop slightly. Again his heart was touched, and he quietly offered the man a lifeline to grab onto. "If you ever need to feed the beast again, Gibbs, call Ducky. He'll know how to get in contact with me."
"Go fuck yourself, Jack O'Neill."
Jack laughed and licked his lips, tasting once more the essence that was Jethro Gibbs. "Only with you beside me, Gibbs. And believe me, you sorry old bastard, it'll be a hell of a ride you won't soon forget."
Not another word passed between them. Jethro threw the door open, and without a glance back left Jack standing alone by the row of sinks.
Chuckling softly Jack took a moment to wash his hands before exiting the restroom. Anyone looking at him could tell he had just scored, and Ducky was no exception. His smile was huge as he watched Jack resume his seat.
"What is it, Ducky? You're grinning like you just won the lottery or something." All of a sudden Jack was extremely thirsty, and he quickly finished off the remainder of his beer, holding his empty glass in the air when their waiter glanced in the direction of their table. His recent conquest could be seen just behind the waiter, and Jack easily tracked Jethro's progress through the dining room. He wasn't surprised in the least when the NCIS agent escorted Ms. Boobs out of the restaurant.
"Ducky," Jack turned his attention to his lunch companion, "I have a feeling your friend Gibbs is a walking time bomb and will soon need an expert to diffuse him."
Ducky dabbed at his lips with his napkin, doing nothing to hide the knowing smile on his face. "Are you volunteering your services, Jack?"
Jack lifted his beer in salute of his friend. "You bet your fine ass I am."
The Air Force Colonel felt his eyes widen in shock when he caught sight of Gibbs glowering at him through the glass of the restaurant's front window. He could feel the heat of the man's gaze stirring his hunger to life once again, and with a grin of pure un-repentedness, shifted his glass in Jethro's direction and saluted him.
"See you soon, Gibbs. See you very soon."
End of chapter 2
Introductions, Chapter 3 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Time for a decision to be made.
Introductions 3
by
Angelise
+++++++
“Shit.”
Jack looked down at his jeans and the pocket that was ringing incessantly. He shifted the grocery bags in his right hand to his left and listed slightly in that direction when the extra weight overbalanced him. With a critical eye, he measured the distance from where he stood to where he had parked his truck and decided whoever was calling could wait just a few more seconds.
Redistributing the weight of the nearly dozen bags he carried, Jack hurried in the direction of his truck and cursed again when his cellphone quit ringing the exact moment he rid himself of his burdens. “Whoever came up with the rule that says macho men don’t use shopping carts to haul their stuff to their vehicles was full of crap.”
Jack, of course, would be the last to admit that the reason he elected to go the macho route this particular day was the drop dead gorgeous hunk that had been standing behind him in the grocery line. The man had made no bones about the way he was checking out Jack’s ass, and the Air Force Colonel was more than happy to carry his bags to his truck so that he could flex all of his muscles.
Glancing over his shoulder, Jack looked for ‘Mr. Big Feet, Hopefully Big Dick’ guy. His ego and muscles deflated immediately when he saw his admirer slip into the arms of another man. “Damn,” Jack mumbled and dejectedly ran his hand through his short graying hair. Things were getting a little lonely at the O’Neill Hacienda, and he would really have enjoyed doing the horizontal mambo with someone other than his right hand.
His jeans began to ring again just as he was inserting his key into the doorlock. “O’Neill,” Jack barked once he dug his cellphone out of his back pocket. Before he could identify the caller, his attention was captured by the midnight black Hummer passing to his left and the two men inside waving at him. A monster-size cucumber flew out the vehicle’s open window in his direction. Jack caught the vegetable missile and couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw the phone number carved in its green skin. The image his sex-starved libido fed his brain distracted him, and it was several seconds before he heard the muted voice calling his name.
“Jack? Jack, my boy, are you there? Hello?”
Sliding inside his truck, Jack cleared the lust clogging his throat and answered hoarsely, “Ducky? Is that you?”
“Hello, Jack. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Jack looked down at the Mighty O’Neill and grimaced at its dispirited state. “It’s been a bad time for quite a while, Ducky. What can I do for you?”
“It will get better, my boy.”
Pulling down the sun visor above the steering wheel, Jack stared at the picture of Daniel Jackson he had liberated from Samantha’s home and hidden there. No matter what his head told him about Daniel’s ascension, his heart still missed the young archeologist in the worst way. Shoving the visor shut, he put his emotions back into the box he kept them safely locked in and inquired of his friend, “How are things with you? Your last email indicated you had hired a new assistance. Gerald’s his name, right?”
Jack started up the truck and carefully pulled out of its parking spot. “Tell me, Ducky, is he a hottie? Hung like a horse?”
“Jonathan O’Neill! I cannot believe your audacity. Gerald is my assistant. Not to mention I have quite a few years on the dear boy. It would be improp---.”
“Aw, come on, Ducky, you’re old, not dead,” Jack interrupted. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been ogling the merchandise?”
There was a moment of silence followed by the clearing of a throat which had Jack laughing aloud as he pulled into traffic. “Give it up. Just how fine is Gerald’s ass?”
“Magnificent, I must admit,” Ducky answered with a chuckle of embarrassment. “I find myself daydreaming about it quite often.”
“You old pervert, you.” Jack shifted gears as the truck picked up speed. “And just when are you going to do more than fantasize? Time’s a wasting, Ducky. Nail the boy’s ass and be quick about it.”
“Thank you, Dear Abby. Your words of wisdom astound me.”
Turning onto the interstate, Jack glanced over at the cucumber riding shotgun beside him and made a mental note of its engraved phone number. “Life’s too short, Ducky. You know it, I know it. If you like this Gerald, go after him. It’s a hell of a lot better than sitting around wondering what could have been.”
“And does this advice also apply to yourself?”
Jack picked up the cucumber and slid it between his legs, bumping it against his crotch several times before tucking it firmly in place. “As of today, Ducky, they’re the words I plan on living by. To the max to be exact.”
“I’m glad to hear that, my boy; for I have a feeling your belief in that particular piece of advice is about to be put to test.”
Jack’s curiosity was immediately peaked. One month ago his friend had tried to set him up with a colleague of his, and even though . . . Jack nearly hit the brake when the reason for Ducky's call slapped him in the face. “This has something to do with Jethro, doesn’t it?” Suddenly anxious to get home, Jack shifted his foot away from the brake and pressed down hard on the accelerator. “What’s the bastard done now?”
“Not more than thirty minutes ago Jethro came striding in my office demanding I give him your phone number.”
“And did you?” Jack lowered his hand to his crotch and pressed the cucumber against the rising bulge that would soon be testing the strength of his zipper. “Tell me you gave him my number, Ducky.” Jethro Gibbs’ face rose up before him, and with it came a lightening flash of heat that went straight to Jack’s groin.
“Of course, I did. Especially after I got a close look at his . . . hmmm . . . how should I put this without sounding crude?”
“Gibbs had a boner. Is that what you’re trying to say?” Jack exited the interstate and took the turnoff on two wheels. His jeans were almost to the point of strangling his erection, and even popping loose the top button provided him absolutely no relief. “Ducky, is there something you’re not telling me? Is there something going on with Gibbs that I should know about?”
“Jethro is getting married tomorrow.”
Jack’s curses turned the air blue inside his truck. “You’re shitting me, right? Gibbs is really going to marry that walking carrot stick with boobs? The man’s a fucking idiot.”
“I, myself, wouldn’t have put it so bluntly, but yes, Jethro is a fucking idiot.”
Pulling into the driveway leading to his home, Jack chuckled at Ducky's lapse in propriety. “Why do you think he wanted my phone number? Think he wants me to talk him out of marrying what’s her name?”
“I have no idea, Jack. Jethro’s intentions are not always the easiest to predict. But I will say he looked as if he was barely hanging onto to his control. A control I might add he normally rules with an iron fist. Be careful, my boy, it might not be a friendly phone call you receive.”
Tossing the cucumber aside, Jack slid out of his truck and shut the door, leaning against it and gazing at the horizon and the colors spilling across its expanse from the setting sun. “Thanks for the head’s up, Ducky. If Gibbs wants a final tussle with me before hitching himself to another woman, then I’m up for it. Literally.”
“Bravo, Jack. I knew you were the man for the job.”
“Damn straight,” Jack agreed.
Ducky laughed. “As you so eloquently put it, Jack, nail Jethro’s ass and be quick about it.” The ME paused for a second as if in thought. “Is that something you can do over the phone? Nail someone’s ass?”
Jack stroked his burgeoning erection. “I’ll have to let you know, Ducky. Phone sex is not exactly my forte. I’m more a ‘hands on’ kinda guy. But don’t you worry. I’m more than up for the challenge, if you get my drift.”
“Too bad we couldn’t make Jethro’s call to you a conference call. I would give anything to hear his reaction when you nail his ass.”
“Ducky! You dirty old son of a bitch.”
“Hopefully Gerald will soon agree with that particular assessment,” Ducky wickedly replied. “Call me tomorrow, Jack. I want details, graphic details if you get my drift.”
Jack echoed Ducky's hearty laughter before bidding his friend a fond farewell. “Talk to you later, Ducky.”
“Good-bye, Jack. And . . . happy nailing!”
+++++++
Jack stood next to his telescope and flipped the cap from his beer bottle into the rusted paint can that sat in the far corner of the porch deck below. “Two points,” he crowed victoriously when the cap hit dead center. Throwing his arms in the air, Jack suggestively swiveled his hips in an x-rated dance that would not only surprise the hell out of his co-workers but his elderly neighbors as well. “There may be snow on the roof but there’s definitely a raging fire below. Jack O’Neill, my boy, you’ve still got the moves.”
Glancing at his watch, Jack checked the time. “Now, if Gibbs would get his ass in gear and call, I’d be more than happy to put those moves on him.”
The phone rang a little less than an hour after he began his nightly perusal of the stars. “’Bout time,” Jack mumbled. Grabbing up the cordless device, he checked the caller id and grinned when he recognized the number’s area code. It had to be Gibbs. Who else but Ducky or Gibbs would be calling him from that part of the country?
Aware that Grandpa and Granny Chandler might not appreciate a display of the Mighty O’Neill, Jack moved back inside before answering the ringing phone. “Hello, Gibbs,” he answered smugly while clicking on his widescreen TV and making himself comfortable on the couch.
There was a long pause before Jethro’s voice came over the line. “Ducky called you I assume?”
“He did, and my, what an interesting conversation we had.”
“Fuck.”
“Now, I wouldn’t say we got that far, but the subject did come up briefly.” Jack loosened the tie on the waistband of his sweats. “Oh wait, scratch that. The subject came up fast and hard and demanded immediate satisfaction.” Immediate as in the second after Jack had entered his home. Groceries and semen spilled onto the floor when Jack gave into the fantasy of nailing Jethro’s ass to the wall, to the floor and basically to every hard surface available for fucking.
Jack grinned at the sound of Jethro’s aborted groan. “How’s your weapon, Marine? Ducky tells me it was primed for action the last time he saw you.”
“My weapon is none of your fucking business.”
“Is that so? Then why is it standing at attention? It is standing at attention, isn’t it? I’d bet a year’s wages that your dick is as hard as a rock and leaking all over your white regulation boxers.” Tucking the phone beneath his ear, Jack slipped his hand inside his sweats and fisted his own hardening shaft.
“You bastard. I should have known better than to have called you.”
“Why did you call me, then? Why did you ask Ducky for my phone number?”
“I . . . I wanted to . . . .”
The hesitancy in Jethro’s voice cooled the heat in Jack’s groin and he released his cock. “Talk to me, Gibbs.”
“I’m getting married tomorrow, dammit.”
“And?” Jack asked. “What do you want from me? Congratulations? Condemnation?”
“I want . . . hell, O’Neill, I don’t know what I want.”
Jack could plainly hear the frustration in Jethro’s voice. It was a frustration he knew well. “You know exactly what you want, Gibbs. You’re just too chicken shit to admit.”
“Why you son of a bitch.”
“Don’t talk about my momma that way. She was a grand lady.” Jack took a sip of his beer before continuing. “Let’s play truth or dare, Gibbs. I dare you to truthfully answer my questions.”
Jack took the ensuing silence as Jethro’s agreement to his challenge. “Are you or are you not interested in men?” The silence continued, and Jack softened his voice to an empathetic whisper. “Come on, Gibbs. Answer me.”
“Yes.”
Jethro’s answer was so quiet and so subdued Jack almost thought he had imagined it. “When you dream, do you dream about fucking men or women?”
“Men.”
“What makes you throw a rod? A good looking man or a woman?”
“Jesus Christ, O’Neill. Enough with the twenty questions.”
Jack gracefully rolled off the couch and went in search of another beer. “Just answer the question, tough guy. What gender gets your blood boiling? Male or female?”
“Male, okay? You satisfied, Fly Boy?”
Ignoring Jethro’s sarcasm, Jack resumed his seat on the couch and took a long draw on his beer. Wiping his mouth, he slid his hand back inside his slacks and played with the foreskin of his penis. “And just whose ass do you want to bury your big boy in? Mine or the future Mrs. Gibbs.”
“Yours, dammit. Yours.”
“Then why in the hell are you marrying that woman? Unless I slept through Homosexuality 101, you’re fucking gay, Gibbs. And if I was standing in front of you right now, you’d drop to your knees and beg for the chance to blow me again. Am I right, Gibbs? Answer me! Am I right?”
“Yes, fuck you, yes!”
The strain in Jethro’s voice was unmistakable and that tender spot in Jack’s heart kicked into gear and throbbed with the need to comfort the tormented man on the other end of the line. “Jethro, calm down,” Jack said softly, using Gibbs’ first name in hopes the man would hear the sincerity in his voice. “I’m here as your friend, not your enemy.”
“It’s so fucking complicated.” Jethro’s voice broke. “You . . . you don’t understand.”
“Jethro, believe me, I do understand. What happened? What happened that made you turn your back on who you are?” For some odd reason Jack could visualize Jethro closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose before offering his answer.
“My first CO, once he found out I was gay, beat and raped me almost every day. It went on for nearly six months before it stopped.”
“Shit.”
Anger flowed like quicksilver through Jack’s veins as thoughts of revenge took up residence in his mind. He knew people who knew people, and by god, the second he found out the man’s name the bastard would be taking a long walk off a short pier. “Dammit, Jethro, why didn’t you report the guy?”
“I was only eighteen, Jack, and scared shitless. Not only that, but the man threatened to do the same to my lover, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. Nathan was an innocent farmboy from Idaho and would never have survived such treatment.”
The bottle in Jack’s hand shattered, and he stared unseeingly at the puddle of beer staining his newly polished wood floor. Stripping off his top, he carefully wiped his hand, thankful the shards of glass had not cut his skin. He then dropped the navy blue-colored sweatshirt over the mess on the floor and promptly forgot it.
“Jesus, no wonder you’re screwed in the head.”
“Thanks, Jack. That’s a real comfort.”
A smile of chagrin broke out as Jack mumbled an apology. “Sorry. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah, I do.”
“Tell me the bastard stepped on a minefield and died a grisly death.”
“No, not exactly.”
Jack heard the pain hidden deep within Jethro’s voice. “What happened? What got you away from him?”
“When Nathan finally figured out what was going on, he slit the man’s throat and then hung himself. It was one of the darkest moments in my life, Jack.”
“Dear God, Jethro. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, you and me both.”
Jack slouched down further on the couch and wished Jethro was lying beside him. He wanted the man in his arms, wanted to feel Gibbs’ solid male body molded tightly to his. His heart ached to comfort Jethro with a hug that would heal his grief-stricken soul. “Dammit, it still doesn’t answer the question why you’re marrying that woman tomorrow.”
“I . . . it’s a pattern I can’t break, Jack. The damage has been done, and I can’t seem to fix it.”
Stroking his hand over his bare chest, Jack closed his eyes and whispered intimately, “I bet I could fix it. That’s if you wanted me to.”
Jethro sighed, and Jack plainly heard the man’s longing to be healed. “I want you to, Jack. You have no idea how much I want you to.”
Desire hit him like a freight train, and Jack groaned at the image of him making love to the former Marine. “I want you, Jethro. Want to be inside that tight ass of yours hearing you scream as I fuck you into oblivion.”
“For Christ’s sake, Jack. Are you trying to make me c---”
“Yes! That’s exactly what I want to do. Let me love you, Jethro. Let me love you right now, here on the phone.”
“You’re crazy.”
“So I’ve been told by way too many so-called friends. But that’s beside the point. Don’t tell me your ass isn’t twitching as we speak, Jethro. It wants my dick. Slow and deep or fast and hard. Tell me, Jethro. Tell me that’s what you want.”
If lust could be assigned a sound Jack knew it would be the sound he could hear coming from the man on the other end of the line. The moan that invaded the silence slithered inside his ear and worked its way down his throat, catching on his heart before punching him in the gut and causing him to jerk awkwardly on his shaft.
“Tell me you’re naked. Tell me you’ve shoved your pants down around your knees and that your dick is flying high, leaving wet smears all over your belly.” Before he stopped speaking, Jack had his sweats pulled down to his ankles. He hurriedly kicked them off, falling backwards on the couch completely naked and laughing hard enough to make beer shoot out his nose.
“Jack, oh . . . fuck.”
Jethro’s panting was loud in his ear and Jack grinned. “Tell me you own a dildo, a vibrator. Jethro. Jethro!”
“Yesssss.”
“Get it. Lube it. Shove it up your ass. NOW!”
Jack braced his feet on the cushions below him, and lifting his hips in the air, offered his erection to the man he wanted so badly he could taste it. “Jethro? Are you there?”
“Jack, it’s ti . . . so tight. Your . . . oh shit.”
“Tight. Yeah, your ass is tight. It’s so fucking tight, it’s strangling my dick. God, I can almost feel it.” Rolling side to side on the couch, Jack continued fisting his erection with one hand while clutching at his balls with his other.
“It’s . . . you’re in, all the way in. Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me hard.”
“I am, babe. Your legs are hooked over my shoulders, and I’m riding you so damn fast and hard, it’s almost shoving you through the mattress.” His eyes falling helplessly shut, Jack gnawed on his bottom lip, stifling the cries that would surely bring his caring busy body neighbors running to his door.
“Touch me, Jack. I need . . . need to feel your hands on me.”
“My hands are already there. They’re sliding down your thighs, tugging on the hair surrounding your beautiful dick, sliding up its length and circling the head. I don’t linger there, though. Your tits are begging to be tortured, and I’m just the man for it.”
“Yes, do it. Bite them, suck them. Eat ‘em until I scream for mercy.”
“You’re gonna scream, Jethro. You’re gonna scream my name so loud, it’ll bring the roof down.” Letting go of his balls, Jack stretched his hand further back, moaning harshly as his middle finger breached his hole. Yes, he was topping Jethro now, but Jack had no qualms about playing bottom for the ex-Marine. He would love to have his ass rimmed and fucked to the max by the man.
“Close . . . I’m so close, Jack. Take me over edge.”
Jack shoved his finger all the way in and clenched his anal muscles around the invading digit. “I ram my dick home, so fucking deep, Jethro, you can taste it in your mouth. You buck your hips off the mattress and howl like a wild banshee. I wrap my hands around your rod and start fisting it so fast it nearly sets your flesh on fire.”
“Yes. Oh fuck, Jack. I . . . I . . . JAAAAACK!”
Semen sprayed his abdomen as Jack added his yell to that of Jethro’s. Unconcerned that his roof may cave in from the noise, Jack surrendered to the climax that blew his mind to smithereens and had him nearly dropping the phone and falling off the couch. Tucking the phone firmly in place again, he slumped back down on the cushions and struggled for air while listening intently to the sound of Jethro letting go of his precious control.
The noises the man was making ignited the smoldering fire in Jack’s groin all over again, and he quickly clamped his hand around the base of his cock to keep from coming again. The Mighty O’Neill was fast on the draw, but Jack had other plans, plans which included both the anal beads and remote-controlled bullets he kept in the dresser next to his bed. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Gibbs.” Grinning wickedly, Jack prayed Jethro had the funds to pay for the marathon event of phone sex the two of them were about to embark upon.
“Jethro?” he called softly. “Babe, are you still with me?” Waiting for Jethro to answer, Jack idly ran his fingers through the mess coating his belly. He then lifted them to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Jethro? Helloooooo? Anyone home?”
“Jesus, Jack. My ass is sore, and my brain is mush.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Feeling slightly chilled and more than a bit awed by what had just passed between the two of them, Jack trembled. “Good enough to put a halt to the charade you’re considering entering into tomorrow?”
The second the words left his mouth, Jack knew he had said the wrong thing, and Jethro’s response proved him right.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?”
Jethro’s question was terse and totally void of the hunger that had driven his voice to a low husky rumble just minutes before. Unexpectedly mourning the loss of that sound and the intimacy of their brief moment together, Jack cursed softly under his breath. “Shit.”
“I asked you a question, O’Neill.”
Jack sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, doing nothing to prevent the sigh of frustration that escaped into the silence. “Gibbs, you can’t tell me you’re still going through with that farce? Not after this. Dammit, man, you’re gay. Not to mention you just admitted you wanted my ass not hers. How in the hell can you turn your back on what we just shared and climb into bed with her?”
“Whose bed I climb into is none of your damn business.”
Jack considered throwing his bottle of beer at the nearest wall but decided against it; one mess a night was enough to clean up. Besides, he’d rather slam it upside the head of one stubborn ex-Marine.
“Jethro, it is my business.” Tucking the phone under his ear, Jack collected his discarded sweatpants and pulled them back on. He was about to grab the bull by the horns and doing so naked didn’t seem quite the smart thing to do. “Now, this is gonna sound like it’s coming from way out in left field and considering my current situation, it probably is but here goes . . . .” Sucking in a deep breath, Jack stood and stated quietly, “I want you in my life, Jethro.”
“I’m not interested in being your fuck buddy, O’Neill.”
“Good, ‘cause that’s not what I’m offering here.”
Jack hooked a finger in the waistband of his sweats and pulled them low enough for him to scratch at the patch of drying semen covering his lower belly. “I’m too old for that kind of shit. Besides, at this point in my life, I’m more interested in a stable relationship. I want someone I can trust, feel secure with. Someone I can come home to or in our case, call on the phone each and every night so that I can whine about how bad or gloat about how good my day was.”
Jack glanced down the hallway that led to his bedroom and thought of the new king-sized bed he had just purchased. Every time he crawled under the covers the vacant space next to him became a harsh reminder of how truly alone he was despite his hectic life. ‘Yeah, and Daniel would be the first one in line to kick my butt for not doing something about it,’ Jack thought ruefully.
His knees suddenly weak, Jack resumed his seat. It wasn’t every day he popped the question. Hell, to be honest, he couldn’t even remember ever doing so with a man. Talk about a night for firsts.
Taking his pride and his heart in hand, he laid everything on the line and simply confessed, “Excuse the sentimental mush, but I want love, Jethro. And I’d like to think I’d get my wish if you’d just give us half a chance. What about it? You willing to join me on this adventure?”
His confession was met with complete silence. Seconds stretched into minutes, and if it hadn’t been for the sound of Jethro’s rapid breathing, Jack would have sworn the connection between them had been broken.
“Damn you, O’Neill,” Jethro finally managed to spit out. “In less than twelve hours I’ll be getting married. How dare you lay that on me now.”
“How dare I?” Jack sputtered angrily. “What about how dare you enter into a relationship based on a lie? How can you promise to love, honor and obey that woman when you know damn well you won’t?”
“You don’t know me at all. If I promise to do something, you can bet your ass I will.”
“Liar. You’re a fucking liar,” Jack yelled. Jumping to his feet, he paced the area between the couch and the backdoor, frantic to prevent Gibbs from making the biggest mistake of his life. “You want me, Jethro. You want me like you’ve never wanted anyone before. For God’s sake man, don’t cheat your heart of the one thing it so desperately needs.”
“This conversation is over. Good-bye, Jack.”
“Jethro, please. Wait! Don’t do thi---”
A familiar pain ripped through his chest, and Jack dropped to his knees just short of the couch clutching the phone to his ear. For several seconds, he remained there, listening to the disgusting sound of a dial tone. “This is not over, Gibbs,” Jack promised vehemently. “Not by a long shot.” Lifting his gaze to the TV, he watched as the famous fisherman, Bobby Meadows reeled in a monster-size bass. Immediately an idea sprung to mind.
Hitting speed dial, Jack called his oldest friend.
“Ducky, sorry to bother you so late, but I think I’m gonna need some help reeling in Gibbs. Wanna tell me where and when the bastard is getting married tomorrow?”
+++++++
“I do not understand the importance of positioning ourselves in this particular location, O’Neill. Please explain again why we must guard the entry to this room? It does not appear to be in any danger.”
Keeping his eyes focused on the door across the hall, Jack grinned when an approaching stranger nearly fell flat on his face trying to get away from the formidable Jaffa blocking the doorway to the men’s restroom. “Let’s just say my rendezvous with Gibbs requires the utmost privacy.”
“Could you not secure a more suitable meeting place for your encounter with this man?”
Jack glanced at Teal’c and the wicked smile on his face caused the Jaffa to frown.
“I believe you are, as Daniel Jackson would say, up to no good, O’Neill.”
“Oh, I’m up, Teal’c. No doubt about that. I’m definitely up.” Jack tugged on the waistband of his slacks in an unsuccessful attempt at creating more room for his unruly erection. “Jethro better show his face soon. This monkey suit is getting damn uncomfortable.”
“If you would attempt to exercise control over the inappropriate thoughts you are entertaining about this stranger, O’Neill, the clothes you are wearing would not be such a hindrance to your manhood.”
Jack squeaked with surprise when a large hand slapped him on the butt. He quickly shifted his gaze to the alien standing beside him and scowled when he saw the smug look on Teal’c’s face. “Smartass,” he said.
“I do not believe it is my ass that is smarting because it was rejected by the Tauri warrior we are lying in wait for.”
“I was not rejected,” Jack insisted, poking his rather large friend in the chest. “Jethro’s confused. Doesn’t know what’s best for him.”
“And you believe that you are what’s best for him?”
“You ain’t whistlin’ Dixie, my friend. The Mighty O’Neill is exactly what the doctor ordered for our illustrious Jethro Gibbs.”
“I hope you will not be offended if I withhold judgment on your claim, O’Neill.”
“Believe me, Teal’c, Jethro will be a million times better off with me at his si--- Shit, here he comes. Get ready.”
Having cased the joint earlier, Jack knew Jethro would have to pass by the men’s restroom on his way out of the courthouse, thus making it the perfect spot to nab his victim. “Oh yeah, oh yeah,” he chanted. “Gonna get me some loving. Some down and dirty loving.” Jack sneaked a glance over his shoulder before slipping in behind Teal’c so that the approaching NCIS agent would not see him lurking in the doorway. “Come on you sweet thing. Come to Papa.”
Jack paid no attention to Teal’c’s snort of exasperation. Instead he focused all his concentration on the unsuspecting man walking toward them, and the second Jethro drew abreast of Teal’c, Jack sprung into action.
“Now, Teal’c! Grab him.”
In the blink of an eye, Jaffa and Tauri came face to face, and Jethro, unfortunately, was no match for the legendary warrior. Before he could utter a word or even lift a hand to pull his weapon, Jethro was caught by the scruff of his neck and tossed effortlessly inside the deserted restroom. His unexpected flight through the air landed him squarely in Jack’s welcoming arms.
“Fancy meeting you here, Gibbs,” Jack cheerfully greeted his prisoner. Wasting no time, Jack wrapped his arms around Jethro’s lean form and expertly pinned him in place. Obscenities in several languages were heaped upon his head, but Jack chose to ignore them all. He was more interested in looking his fill of the infuriated agent and was amazed to discover his memory had not done the man justice. Blue eyes blazing with anger, his features flushed, Jethro was even more handsomer than Jack remembered. “God, you’re sexy when you’re mad,” he confessed without hesitation.
His comment effectively silenced Jethro’s tirade, and Jack took full advantage of the situation. He locked lips with the ex-Marine, stalling any and all protests that were possibly still percolating in his brain. Their tongues battled for supremacy, but Jack was determined to win and pulled out all stops.
Knocking Jethro’s legs apart, he insinuated his knee between them and boldly rubbed it against Jethro’s crotch. A breathless moan greeted the discovery of his companion’s blatant desire. “Oooh! What do we have here? Are you packing a concealed weapon, Agent Gibbs?” Jack pushed his knee harder against Jethro’s erection and laughed when trembling fingers clawed at his hips.
“Promise to play nice?” Jack whispered between kisses. His answer came in the form of Jethro slamming against him with his hips. “I take it that’s a yes.”
Seizing Jethro’s mouth again, Jack slowly eased his arms away and grunted with surprise when Jethro attempted to take control by twisting them around and slamming him against the nearest wall.
“No, no, no,” he corrected Jethro, easily reversing their positions. Today’s agenda was all about Jack being top dog. Jack would do the talking. Jack would do the kissing. And most definitely, Jack would do the fucking.
“You’re mine, Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Your ass, your mouth, your heart, your soul. Deny it all you want, but you know it’s true.”
Sinking one hand in the short strands of hair lying against the nape of Jethro’s neck, Jack tugged the man’s head back and attacked his throat, nipping and sucking on his Adam’s apple. Jethro was groaning incessantly by the time Jack moved his mouth north so that he could rim the outer shell of Jethro’s ear. “We belong together, babe. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel how right this is?” Jack punctuated his final question by grabbing Jethro’s ass and hauling him close. “This is where you want to be. In my arms, riding my dick, screaming my name.” Jack slid his hands down the back of Jethro’s thighs before whispering, “How can you deny what’s between us?”
Shifting his hands around to the front, Jack dug his nails into the expensive material of Jethro’s dress slacks and scraped the flesh beneath while slowly dragging his hands upward. The grin on his face broadened when he felt Jethro shiver uncontrollably. “I do believe your weapon is primed for action, Agent Gibbs.”
Jack took possession of Jethro’s erection, freeing the large organ from its cloth confinement and leisurely rubbing his callused palm over its silken head. “You have no idea how bad I want to nail your ass. Unfortunately, my colleague’s patience extends only so far when it comes to guarding public restrooms.” Dropping to his knees, Jack shoved Jethro’s pants down around his ankles. “This’ll have to do until I can get you home and in bed.”
Jack looked up and pinned Jethro with his hungry gaze, making sure his companion watched as he hefted the thick, wine-colored shaft onto his tongue and slowly pulled it inside his mouth. Wrapping his lips around the flared head, Jack speared its slitted opening with the tip of his tongue. Immediately Jethro went limp and his total capitulation was announced with a ragged sigh and the slight flexing of his hips.
“Jack, please,” Jethro whispered hoarsely. “It’s too . . . you don’t understand. I---”
‘I understand more than you know, lover,’ Jack thought as he swallowed the entire length of Jethro’s shaft down his throat. Grabbing his companion’s delectable ass, Jack went to work, sucking vigorously on the diamond-hard rod drilling his mouth. His gaze never left Jethro’s face, and he watched as the man thrashed his head from side to side, silencing his cries by gnawing on his bottom lip until it bled.
Soon the heady flavor of Jethro’s imminent orgasm teased his taste buds, and Jack re-doubled his efforts, his sucking turning voracious, driven by his need to taste what Jethro had been freely giving to those who would never bring him true satisfaction. ‘That’s it, babe. Give it to me. Give me your love.’
Collecting the densely furred testicles that were slapping his chin, Jack pressed them hard against Jethro’s perineum and mentally let out a yell of triumph when fingers clawed frantically at his shoulders. A second later Jethro lost all semblance of control and brutally rammed his cock down Jack’s throat. Eyes glazed over with passion and love, Jack growled his approval and was instantly rewarded with a flood of hot, bitter-tasting semen.
Only when the last drop was savored did Jack allow Jethro’s shaft to slip from his mouth. Resting his head against Jethro’s hip, he nuzzled the flaccid organ, kissing it and licking it and laughing softly when it twitched weakly in response.
“Jack, dear god, do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”
“How ‘bout, made you love me more than life itself, for starters?”
A long, drawn-out sigh answered him. “Jesus, Jack. If you only knew.”
Jethro’s left hand dropped down and tenderly stroked the side of his face. Jack turned toward it, branding its warmth with a loving kiss. “I hate to tell you this, partner, but I think you’re gonna have to help me off this floor. Damn knees aren’t worth shit nowadays.”
Reaching up, Jack took hold of Jethro’s hand and promptly forgot everything when his fingers encountered the ring Jethro was wearing. He stared at it, his brain refusing to accept what he was seeing. “A wedding band. You’re wearing a fucking wedding band,” he whispered gruffly.
Closing his eyes, Jack hid his face in the silky hair covering the thigh nearest him. “Dammit, Jethro. Why? Why’d you do it?”
Jethro’s voice was hushed, his touch gentle. “I gave my word, Jack. It was a matter of honor.”
‘What about love,’ Jack wanted to scream but instead he asked, “What about me? What about us?”
“I can’t answer that, Jack.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Jack brushed aside the hands that reached down to assist him. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he stumbled to his feet. “You’re a class act, Gibbs. A real bastard.”
“Jack, don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t hate you for making me love you? For making me look like a bigger fool than I already am?” Jack staggered to the closest sink and splashed his face with cold water. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
Jethro’s image appeared in the mirror beside his, and Jack had to forcibly harden his heart against the look of utter anguish on the man’s face. “Guess I should offer you my congratulations. Wish you a happy life with the new Mrs. Gibbs and all that.”
“Dammit, Jack. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Yeah, right. Bet you tell that to all the guys you fuck over.” Jack sidestepped the arms that reached out for him. “Oh wait. You don’t fuck guys. You only fuck women. Fuck ‘em and dump ‘em. Wonder how many more you’ll fuck and dump before you finally admit that you’re gay?”
Jack caught Jethro’s fist an inch before it connected with his face. “Touch me again and Mrs. Gibbs will be collecting widow’s benefits instead of wedding gifts.”
Risking it all one last time, Jack held onto Jethro’s fist for a full minute before anointing it with a good-bye kiss. “You’re gonna regret this one day, Gibbs, and when you do, don’t come knocking on my door. It only opens for those who are honest and true, and baby, that ain’t you.”
Jack dropped Jethro’s hand and turning on his heel, left without a backwards glance. He exited the restroom and walked straight into Teal’c’s open embrace. The hug was brief, one warrior comforting another, and Jack nearly lost it when Teal’c calmly offered to detach Jethro’s testicles with his bare hands.
“Maybe next time, big guy.”
Pulling out his sunshades, Jack slipped them on and surveyed his surroundings. “I’m starved. How ‘bout some breakfast? Didn’t we see a Denny’s around the corner from here?”
Not waiting to see if Teal’c was following his lead, Jack headed for the stairs. He took them three at a time and literally flew out the exit once he reached the bottom floor. His aching knees protested the abuse and demanded a time-out. Leaning against a nearby support column, Jack bent double and concentrated on breathing through the pain both in his heart and his knees. His knees cooperated with the relaxation technique but his heart refused, and Jack soon gave up trying to repair what would take months to heal.
“Damn you, Gibbs.”
Teal’c exited the stairwell just in time to hear Jack curse.
“My offer still stands, O’Neill.”
Jack greeted Teal’s steadfast loyalty with a forced smile. “Like I said, maybe next time.” Glancing at his watch, Jack noted the time. “Hey, instead of Denny’s, let’s head up the coast. We’ve got the weekend off, and there’s this neat little inn just east of the interstate once you cross over into Vermont. The food’s great, and it caters to my kind of people.”
“Your kind of people, O’Neill?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught sight of Jethro leaving the courthouse. Fighting back the ache in his chest, he straightened and turned his back on the man he could have loved forever. “Yeah, my kind of people. Truthful, honest and gay.”
End of chapter 3
Introductions, Chapter 4 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Jethro is rudely awakened to the truth
Introductions 4
by
Angelise
+++++++
“It’s okay, baby. Everything’s going to be okay.”
Fierce, demanding kisses left a trail of heat and moisture from his chest to his belly and down to his groin. Jethro moaned as the emotional agony of his most recent case temporarily loosened its hold on his heart and mind.
“Oh god, I need---”
Words failed him and his eyes helplessly shuttered closed when the first touch of scorching hot breath caressed his erection. His lungs expanded and held, holding precious air hostage while he anxiously anticipated the simple contact that would feed the restless hunger surging through his veins.
“Jack, please. Your mouth, I need---”
Jethro carded his fingers through the tousled strands of hair brushing against his groin. Tightening his grip, he guided the mouth that was torturing him to the one spot that wept with unbearable need.
“Please, Jack. I love you. I need you. Suc---”
“THAT’S IT!”
Sharp teeth viciously marked the skin of his underbelly, shocking Jethro out of his most cherished fantasy. He took a moment to give thanks that the teeth hadn’t attacked more vulnerable flesh, but that brief respite ended when his shaft was jerked up hard and twisted. Stars exploded behind his eyeballs as excruciating pain set every nerve ending in his body on fire.
“You fucking faggot. How dare you keep calling me by HIS name!”
His balls were next in line to suffer the brunt of his lapse in control; and if Jethro thought the pain was bad before, what followed was pure agony. The long, tapered fingernails of his wife dug into his scrotal sac, piercing the tender flesh while at the same time attempting to flatten both his testicles against his perineum. The entire known universe imploded inside his brain, its demise serenaded by Jethro’s roar of pain and Melissa’s scream of outrage.
“Get OUT of this bed. Get OUT of this house. AND . . . get OUT of my life,” his wife of six months yelled, her shrill, high-pitch voice threatening to shatter the glass windows of their bedroom. “Get your queer ass out of here, Jethro, and be thankful I don’t tell my daddy about this little charade of yours. God, I can’t believe I fell for your pathetic act.”
Melissa’s foot connected with his ass, and Jethro went off the edge of the bed, slamming his face and his bruised penis into the unyielding surface of the room’s hardwood flooring. “FUCK!” he yelped and quickly rolled to his side while groaning and cupping his abused genitals. Forcing his eyes open, he located his ranting wife and instinctively scooted away from the insane jealousy he could read in her eyes.
“You want fuck? I’ll give you fuck.” Melissa stalked Jethro across the room. “I’ll give you a fucking divorce so that you can go fuck whoever the hell this bastard Jack is.”
Jethro attempted to scramble to his feet but before he could do so, Melissa again kicked him in the ass. This time Jethro didn’t roll with the punch. Instead, he grabbed his wife’s foot and expertly brought her down. Ignoring the pain in his balls, he straddled Melissa’s waist and captured her flying fists. One connected with his mouth before he could pin them over her head, and he grinned victoriously when drops of blood from his spilt lip stained her too perfect features. When one fat droplet hit her open mouth dead center, Melissa went ballistic, and it was all Jethro could do to keep the bucking redhead pinned to the floor.
Obscenities aimed at him and at Jack bounced off the walls and the ceiling, and still Jethro held his peace. He could have ranted and raved right back at his wife but that wouldn’t have solved their problems, nor would it save their marriage -- a marriage that had been a mistake from the very beginning.
Closing his eyes, Jethro brought to mind Jack’s face and even though it galled him to the max, he knew he had been wrong to ignore the man’s advice. He should never have married Melissa. Hiding from his problems in the arms of a person he could never love with his entire heart was not the answer. Three lives, four if he counted Jack’s, had been ruined because of his refusal to deal with his homosexuality. If he had listened to Jack, had embraced the love, the life that had been freely offered to him by the older man, maybe his track record of failed relationships would have halted at two.
Unfortunately ‘what ifs’ were no longer an option for Jethro. Jack had made it crystal clear at their last meeting that his offer was a one time deal. Until Jethro came to grips with the truth of his sexuality, Jack had no interest whatsoever in pursuing a relationship with him. According to Ducky, Jack had loved and lost two very important people in his life, and Jethro’s rejection had been the last straw, turning the Air Force Colonel into a very embittered man.
Fingernails clawing at his hands brought Jethro’s attention back to his current problem, and he carefully lifted himself off of his wife’s body, making sure he kept hold of her arms until the very last second. Braced with his back against the wall, Jethro watched Melissa scramble to her feet and stomp around the room screaming obscenities at him. Finally she ran out of steam verbally and with a lethal glare aimed in his direction, yanked a suitcase out of the closet and began to fill it erratically, not with her clothes but with his.
Getting gingerly to his feet, Jethro walked across the room and rescued his favorite shirt from the red-tipped talons shredding it to pieces. “I’m sorry, Melissa,” he said softly, gathering the petite woman in his arms. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Melissa, I’m ser--”
“BULLSHIT!”
Melissa ripped free of his embrace and slapped the hell out of him. “You were a faggot the day we met. Hell, you called me Jack the first time we made love. THE VERY FIRST TIME, you asshole!”
Jethro rubbed his bruised jaw, unable to believe he had done what Melissa claimed he did. Yes, he had wanted Jack, both physically and emotionally, but those feelings were firmly locked away the day of his marriage and had only recently resurfaced because his control had been seriously threatened due to the case he was currently investigating.
Five year-old, Chloe McAdams, the daughter of a naval commander, had been kidnapped, abused and beaten to death. All cases involving children affected Jethro deeply. This one was troubling him more so than the others simply because, despite his team’s best efforts, the sick bastard that had murdered Chloe was still at large and according to Stan, was more than likely planning another kidnapping. No matter how hard he tried, Jethro just couldn’t seem to get the image of Chloe’s mutilated body out of his head, and his failure in catching her murderer was starting to affect every aspect of his life.
“Melissa, you don’t understand. I---”
“I understand perfectly. You’re as queer as a three dollar bill, and it’s this Jack you want sucking your dick, not the woman you pledged to love, honor and respect.”
Jethro reached for his wife again and got a punch in the gut instead. “What the hell was that for?”
“What the hell? What the HELL?” Melissa drew back her hand but at the last minute dropped it to her side and assumed a defeated posture. “Get out, Jethro. Just please get out of my sight.”
Jethro silently stared at his soon to be ex-wife for several moments. Her tears should have upset him, set his conscious on a major guilt trip but they didn’t. This time around, he felt . . . Jethro rubbed at his chest in confusion. He felt absolutely nothing. It was if he was dead inside, completely dead inside.
Pausing at the door, Jethro looked back at Melissa and apologized one last time. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”
+++++++
Jethro slowly unfolded himself from the corner of the darkened garage he had been sitting in for the last couple of hours. “Shit. Who in the hell can that be?” he asked his ever faithful companion, which sadly just happened to be the unfinished skeleton of the boat he was building by hand. Receiving no answer, Jethro kicked aside the empty whiskey bottle that were obstructing his path to whoever it was pounding on his garage door at 3am in the morning.
A hair-mussed, wrinkle-clothed Ducky was discovered standing on his doorstep, shielding a yawn that was threatening to split his face in half.
“What in God’s name are you doing here?” Jethro spit out as he turned on the overhead light.
“Melissa called,” Ducky offered in explanation. “Told me to come get you.” The bespectacled ME took a seat on Jethro’s workbench and ran a hand through his hair. “Could you enlighten me as to the reason why your wife would do such a thing?”
Jethro slammed the door shut and grabbed another bottle of whiskey on the way back to his corner. “Seems my brain doesn’t know the difference between the woman I married and the man I rejected.”
“Oh my.”
“You can say that again.”
Jethro resumed his seat and took a large swig of whiskey before looking up and catching Ducky's eye. “According to Melissa, I’ve been calling her Jack from day one.”
Sighing heavily, Ducky took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “You, my friend, are in deep shit,” he replied with a rueful grin on his face.
“Old man, you certainly have a way with words.”
Ducky brushed aside Jethro’s sarcasm with a wave of his glasses. “Speaking of old men, does Melissa’s father know about this new state of affairs?”
“Oh I’m sure daddy dearest will soon know every sordid detail of my unbelievable duplicity.” Jethro examined the label on his bottle of whiskey and contemplated the hell Senator Grant could make of his life. Not that he cared. His life was pretty much in the toilet at the moment with no hope of getting any better.
Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall behind him, Jethro allowed himself a second to wallow in the misery currently swamping his heart. His emotions were a mess, and the only consolation he could find was in the memory of his brief encounter with Jack O’Neill.
Forgetting his audience, Jethro set the bottle of whiskey aside and wrapped his arms around himself, imagining it was Jack hugging him, Jack touching him, Jack loving him with his searing mouth and talented hands. Jethro was caught by surprise when his body reacted violently to the images playing in his mind. Without thinking, he dropped a hand between his legs, desperately seeking the comfort of another hand -- one that had touched him with extreme gentleness and had for a brief time eased the torment that had plagued him for years.
The name of his almost lover shattered the silence at the same moment his body spilled its release, both in the form of tears and ejaculate. Suddenly remembering where he was, Jethro hung his head and hoped the astute pair of eyes watching him did not see his tears.
“Sorry, Ducky,” he mumbled. “Forgot I wasn’t alone.”
Jethro swiped at his cheeks before looking over at his friend. “What with this case I’m working, Melissa, Jack, my control’s not what it should be.”
“You’re human, Jethro. Not to mention, you are my friend. Don’t be embarrassed to show your emotions in front of me.” Ducky lifted the hand that was still holding his glasses. “Besides, I wasn’t wearing my spectacles. Didn’t see a single thing.”
The older man shared a smile with Jethro, a smile that clearly indicated he understood what Jethro was going through. “Thanks, Duck.”
“No problem.”
Pushing the whiskey bottle away with his foot, Jethro closed his eyes again and took several deep cleansing breaths. For the first time in his life he decided he would ignore his brain and listen to his heart, instead. It told him to embrace his feelings, to accept who he really was. It also told him to get off his butt and go find Jack as quickly as possible, preferably naked and in bed and ready to fuck Jethro into orgasmic heaven.
The image of a bare-ass Jack tied to a bed completely at his mercy had Jethro grinning from ear to ear. He was on the verge of pleading with Ducky for Jack’s address when a torn scrap of paper appeared magically before his eyes.
“Jack will probably kill me for giving you this, but your emotional health is worth the risk of an untimely death.”
Jethro squinted at the piece of paper, moving it close then holding it at arm’s length. The chicken scratch that passed for Ducky's handwriting remained out of focus no matter where he held the paper.
“Jethro, you really need to consider having your eyes examined,” Ducky suggested.
“Nothing wrong with my eyesight. Not enough light in here, that’s all.” Jethro ignored the roll of the eyes that greeted his response, holding up the piece of paper, instead. “What is it?”
“Jack’s home address.”
Dropping his gaze to the cement floor between his feet, Jethro clutched the paper to his chest and whispered a question he wasn’t sure he wanted answered. “Do you think . . . do you think Jack would give a born-again gay a second chance?”
Comforting hands gripped his shoulders and assisted him to his feet.
“Go to him, Jethro. Apologize for being an ass, and I am almost sure Jack will forgive you. Of course, I must warn you of his love for saying ‘I told you so.’ Jack has no shame when it comes to this and will, no doubt, go out of his way to remind you of your error in judgment.”
Jethro collected his suitcase and followed Ducky out of the garage. “As long as he does it while we’re naked and tangled in the semen-soaked sheets, I don’t care.”
“Too much information, Jethro. Way too much information.”
End of chapter 4
End Notes:
This was written mid-second season. Please remember this when you read the history I created for Jethro. It does not gel with what we know now.
Introductions, Chapter 5 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Jethro takes a trip to Colorado.
Introductions 5
by
Angelise
+++++++
Jethro tossed his duffle bag into the bushes bordering the front of Jack’s house. He figured the luggage would not only be safely hidden from any one walking by, but would also be readily accessible in the event that Jack threw him out on his ass.
“Here goes nothing.”
Drying his sweaty palms, Jethro made his way up the short walk and stared at the door that, hopefully, would welcome him into a future with the man inside. Of course knowing the man inside, Jethro wouldn’t be surprised if said door was slammed in his face the second its owner got a look at who was requesting admittance.
“Damn, I can’t believe how fucking nervous I am.”
A beagle puppy appeared out of nowhere and sat itself down beside Jethro’s feet. The NCIS agent spared another glance at the door before confessing to the small dog, “Haven’t been this nervous since the first time I proposed marriage, and we all know how well that turned out.”
An enthusiastic tail-wagging confirmed the truth of his last statement, and Jethro couldn’t help but smile. “Got any insight on how I should handle your master?”
The puppy seemed to examine Jethro rather closely for a few seconds before plopping down on his tummy. With a toothy grin, he then rolled over on his back and waved all four legs in the air.
Jethro considered the dog’s antics with a raised eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I go belly up? Be the bottom to his top dog? Beg for forgiveness? Shit like that?”
He was answered not only with a tail that wagged brisk enough to create a mini-hurricane, but a loud, yappy bark of agreement was thrown in as well.
“I was a first-class bastard to him,” Jethro confessed. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to grovel a bit. Especially if it’ll get my ass nailed to the floor.”
Shifting his gaze from his canine counselor to the open windows beside the door, Jethro glimpsed Jack walking into view. The sight of the man’s bare chest and his denim cut-offs had Jethro considering the option of greeting Jack on his bony knees. Not only would he be able to beg forgiveness from that position, but it would also put him in perfect alignment with Jack’s---
The ringing of a phone interrupted Jethro’s lascivious thoughts, and he shamelessly listened in on the conversation.
“Jonas, I appreciate the offer, but I’m just not interested,” Jack said.
Jethro could plainly see the look of frustration on Jack’s face and wondered about the person on the other end of the line. Whatever was being said definitely did not meet with Jack’s approval.
“Look, Jonas, the military has a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy, and the information you’re requesting falls under that category.”
Jethro grinned when he saw Jack bang the cordless against his forehead.
“Yes, Dr. Jackson and I were friends,” Jack admitted. “Friends, Jonas, that’s all.”
Something about the wistful way Jack glanced at a picture frame hanging on the wall beside him had Jethro thinking that Jack wasn’t the only one with a yearning for things that could have been.
“Jonas, I gotta go. Pizza guy’s banging on my door, and if I don’t go pay him, he’ll leave and take my deep dish Super Combo with him.”
Jethro caught himself checking over his shoulder and grinned when he realized the ridiculousness of it. Hell, he was human after all, despite what those at NCIS headquarters thought to the contrary.
“Pizza would be nice, though,” he said aside to the beagle at his feet. “Think we can convince Jack to spring for one later on?”
Glancing back through the window, Jethro saw that Jack was still on the phone, and straight away figured the unknown Jonas must be from another planet. Didn’t the moron know pizza joints weren’t open this early in the morning and that Jack was lying through his teeth?
“Not a smart cookie, if you ask me,” Jethro noted, sharing his assessment with his steadfast companion.
“Yes, Jonas,” Jack replied, punctuating his statement with a very loud and drawn out sigh that clearly indicated he was reaching the end of his patience. “Teal’c is not a member of our military, and no, I don’t know if he is. Maybe that’s a question you should be asking him instead of me. Yeah, well, whatever floats your boat. Right. I understand. See ya on base.”
The noise of a car passing down the street kept Jethro from making out the name Jack called Jonas once he hung up the phone. Whatever it was, it had sounded foreign, foreign and extremely derogatory. Jethro grinned. Jonas, no doubt, was in for a major dressing down the next time he met up with Jack.
Lifting his hand to knock on the door, Jethro noticed Jack was back on the phone, and once again, he eavesdropped.
“Teal’c buddy! Jonas just called, and it looks like he’s trying to score some ass. Hate to say it, but you’re next on his list. Excuse me? It is not my fault you were his second choice.” Smiling, Jack scratched at a patch of hair on his chest. “Jonas is a smart guy. He knows quality when he sees it.”
Jethro’s own smile widened when he saw the indignant pose Jack took, placing one hand on his hip and glaring at another picture frame that was hanging on the wall. “I resent that, Teal’c. Older men are sexy.” Jack’s glare softened, replaced by an evil grin. “I want video of that. Can you imagine the look on Jonas’ face when you whip out your---”
Jack turned suddenly, and from the shocked expression on his face, Jethro knew he had been made. The man’s gaze turned lethal, causing Jethro to instinctively take a step back. Unfortunately, this put him in the direct path of his canine companion and the caterpillar he was now following across the stoop.
“Oh shit!”
Jethro ended up flat on his back in the grass with his now floppy-eared nurse conferring upon him a slobbery dose of TLC. “Cut it out, will ya?” he groused good-naturedly.
A large shadow slid over Jethro and blocked out the morning sun. Its presence warned him that his imminent future was about to be decided, and he almost didn’t look up. Finally he did, and blazing brown eyes pinned him in place, their intensity stealing his breath and kicking his heart into overdrive.
“Don’t you think it’s a little bit late to be throwing yourself at my feet, Special Agent Gibbs?” Jack asked sarcastically.
Wisely keeping his mouth shut, Jethro looked his fill of the handsome Air Force Colonel. He felt a stirring, not in his groin as was to be expected, but in his heart and again cursed himself for rejecting Jack’s offer of love.
Jethro took a deep breath, and after wiping the dog slobber from his face, grinned at the older man. “Personally, I’d rather throw myself in your bed, but you’ve got to let me through the front door first.”
“And just why should I do that?”
Jethro held up a hand in an attempt to keep the first layer of skin intact on his right cheek.
“Go home, Samson,” Jack instructed the beagle and nudged him away from Jethro with his foot.
The puppy playfully nipped at Jack’s bare toes but quickly changed his mind about disobeying when Jethro swatted his behind. With a wounded glance at both men, Samson took off as ordered.
“Thanks,” Jethro said. “His kisses were getting a little too wet for my taste.”
Jack stared down at him for a full five seconds before asking, “And just what kind of kisses do you like?”
Jethro didn’t hesitate one iota. “Yours.”
“Yeah, right. Tell me another one, Gibbs.”
Jack turned and walked back inside, leaving the front door wide open. Jethro took that as a good sign and scrambled to his feet. Sparing a moment to verify Samson had safely made his way home, Jethro then cautiously entered the open door. He stood on the threshold examining the collection of fishing magazines thrown haphazardly across the top of a wooden bookcase. It wasn’t until Jack passed by him on his way to the living room that Jethro moved further inside. Following after his reluctant host, Jethro found Jack lounging on the couch with two beers sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
Looking across at the matching chairs that faced the couch, Jethro considered sitting in one of them. It would provide him with an unobstructed view of Jack’s muscular chest, and who in their right mind wouldn’t want to gaze at that? Jethro took a step in the direction of the chairs but then glanced down and saw how Jack was sprawled on the cushions with his left hand resting beside him palm side up. He was immediately struck with the ludicrous notion of holding hands with the man, and that thought alone decided his mind for him.
“Right,” he murmured.
Taking a seat on the couch beside Jack, Jethro dropped his right hand so that it landed next to Jack’s left. He sat there, silently staring out the windows across from him. Every few seconds he would arbitrarily brush a finger against Jack’s hand, but other than that, he kept absolutely still. No use antagonizing Jack any more than necessary.
Several minutes of complete silence had passed before Jethro felt it safe enough to talk. His assessment of the situation was furthered strengthened by the fact that his ass was still planted on the couch and not making nice with the freshly mown lawn outside. A frown briefly appeared on his face. Knowing his recent run of luck, all of that could change the second he opened his mouth.
‘Nothing ventured, nothing gained,’ Jethro thought ironically, and after taking another deep breath, quietly announced, “Melissa kicked me out of the house last night.”
“Good for her.” Jack reached for one of the two beers and handed it to Jethro. “Finally, a Gibbs with good sense.”
Jethro ignored the sarcasm but not the fingers that lingered on his a second longer than acceptable. His breath hitched, and he had to swallow hard in order to speak. “It . . . um, it seems she took offense to me calling her by someone else’s name when we made love.”
“Ya think?” Jack collected the remaining bottle of beer and took a healthy swallow. “Must have been hell for her.”
“I beg your pardon. There have never been any complaints in that department,” Jethro testily answered in his defense. He saw Jack cut his eyes sideways at him while raising a quizzical eyebrow. Jethro retracted his last statement with a wry grin, “Okay, okay. At least not until recently,”
Another silence took hold, and this time Jethro took advantage of the quiet by grabbing a short cat nap while Jack contemplated the remains of his beer.
He was dog tired, having been on the go from the moment he had left his home with a sleepy Ducky in tow. His friend had not only volunteered Jack’s home address, but had also gone as far as to take care of the travel arrangements while Jethro was busy securing time off.
The second that Jethro had clicked off his cellphone, Ducky handed him the printed confirmations for both his flight and the rental car he would need to navigate the city of Cheyenne, Colorado. After a quick shower, shave and change of clothes, Jethro was out the door. The only time he had stopped and actually considered the wisdom of showing up on Jack’s doorstep unannounced was when he was sipping from a large, steaming cup of coffee while waiting for his connecting flight to be called.
Jethro had weighed the pros and cons of his rash decision and found he really didn’t care that the cons outnumbered the pros. His heart said ‘go,’ and it went without saying that his body was in complete agreement.
In Jack’s bed, in his arms and in his ass was where Jethro wanted to be, and only a planetary invasion by aliens would keep him from accomplishing that task. Come sundown, Jethro Leroy Gibbs would either be fucking or being fucked by the one and only Jack O’Neill.
Jethro cracked one eye open and checked the position of the shadows chasing across the backyard he could glimpse through the windows. Assured that there was still plenty of time before he needed to put his plan into action, he finished off his beer and snuggled further down in the cushions.
The act of someone plucking the bottle from his lax grip woke Jethro, and he yawned before casting his eyes in Jack’s direction. He found the gray-haired man exactly as he was before going asleep, sprawled comfortably in the corner of the couch. There was one difference though, Jethro noted upon further examination. Jack’s narrowed gaze appeared to be focused on the area when their hands lay side by side and just to be sure, Jethro hooked Jack’s pinky finger with his own. The swift intake of air from the man beside him verified his assumption.
‘Now this I could grow to like.’ Closing his eyes, Jethro left their fingers connected and drifted back to sleep.
The next time he woke, Jack’s backyard was almost completely taken over by shadows. “Time to test the waters,” he thought.
Turning his head slightly to the side, Jethro gazed at Jack and surprisingly, found him asleep. Their fingers were still entwined, and the emotions that discovery evoked warmed Jethro’s heart immensely. ‘So far, so good.’
Jethro let his gaze roam lazily over Jack’s body, and he couldn’t help but moan when his eyes located the frayed spot on Jack’s cut-offs. It was located to the left of the zipper’s base and was held together with only two thick threads of denim. Jethro swore he saw naked flesh and not underwear material through the hole, and the thought of Jack going commando had Jethro’s dick coming up fast and hard.
Tempted as all get out, Jethro was actually contemplating an investigation of the area when Jack unexpectedly spoke up.
“You plan on telling me whose name you’ve been hollering during those make-out sessions with your wife?”
Jethro tore his eyes away from the growing bulge in Jack’s shorts and lifted them to stare at the side of its owner’s face. “I thought you were smarter than that, O’Neill. Do I really need to say the name out loud?”
“Hell, yes,” Jack replied without looking at him. “I want to hear you say it. I want to hear the name of the person you want more than your wife. I want to hear the name of the person you should have been fucking all these months. I want to hear the name of the person you need more than anybody else in this world.”
Jack turned his head and looked straight at Jethro. “Say it, Gibbs. Say the name.”
Jethro let go of Jack’s hand and proceeded to clamber across him, straddling his narrow hips while reaching up to pinch at both his nipples. “You asshole,” he muttered.
Lowering his head, Jethro whispered in the man’s left ear. “Jack. The name I’ve yelled, whispered and moaned was . . . Jack.”
Jethro sank his teeth into the stubble-covered jaw closest to him. “Jack, Jack, Jack,” he murmured between bites.
His hair was grabbed hard and his head forced back, pulling him away from the mouth he so badly wanted to consume. Jethro yelped in pain. “What the fu---”
“Tell me this isn’t a one time deal, Gibbs, ‘cause if you’re just satisfying an itch, your ass is out of here.” Jack stood abruptly and dumped Jethro on the coffee table behind him.
Jethro quickly jumped to his feet when his butt took immediate offense to the unyielding wood surface it was resting upon. “By now my wife has no doubt called her lawyer and arranged for a speedy divorce.”
Having no qualms whatsoever about invading Jack’s personal space, Jethro moved so that they were standing nose to nose. “Instead of trying to reconcile with Melissa,” he continued coolly, “I’m standing here with you, thinking of nothing else but you and how much I need you to fuck me. What does that say?”
“It tells me your ass wants dick. That’s all.”
Jethro was shoved aside, and this time his backside connected with the soft cushions of the couch. He watched as Jack stormed across to the windows that looked out over the backyard. The man lifted his arms and slapped his hands against the glass, glaring at something Jethro couldn’t see. Seconds passed before Jack spoke again.
“I’m not going back inside the closet for you, Gibbs. If you come to my bed, you come as a man who’s accepted he’s gay and is willing to live openly as one. I lived the lie too long, and it cost me a relationship that could have been it for me. So, Special Agent Jethro Gibbs, I’ll ask you one more time. Is this a one time deal or are you in it for the long haul?”
Needy brown eyes zeroed in on Jethro, begging him to offer up the right answer.
There was no hesitation in Jethro’s mind. He knew the answer, his heart knew the answer, and he was ready to commit to the lonely man standing before him.
Rising to his feet, Jethro methodically stripped off his clothes. He then walked toward Jack, the freedom of truly accepting who he was nearly making him feel as if he was walking on air. The sway of his genitals, the contraction and relaxation of the muscles in his legs, the breeze from the ceiling fan above caressing his hardening nipples -- all of it was fucking liberating, and Jethro savored each step that brought him closer to the one he loved.
“This is not a one time deal,” he announced in a strong voice that dared the man listening to the dangers of contradicting him. “Although you may, after a while, wished it had been,” Jethro declared with a small smile of irony. “I am, after all, a hardnosed bastard who is quite set in his ways. Not exactly the easiest person to live with or so I’ve been told.”
Jack turned and faced Jethro. “I think I can deal with that. It’s not like I haven’t had firsthand knowledge of such a person.”
Jethro chuckled. “Good to hear.”
His eyes never wavering from the blazing gaze devouring his nakedness, Jethro knelt before Jack and kissed the arrow of dark hair that disappeared into the low-riding cut-offs.
“Love me, Jack,” he pleaded. “Love me until the day they bury my sorry ass in the ground at Arlington.”
End of chapter 5
Introductions, Chapter 6 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Jethro is not exactly welcomed with open arms.
Introductions 6
by
Angelise
+++++++
"For cryin’ out loud, Gibbs, stand up. And put your damn clothes back on. I’m sure as hell not gonna let you blow me in full view of my neighbors. The old geezer next door would die of a heart attack if he caught us going at each other."
Jack stepped around the man kneeling at his feet, making sure that his uninvited guest did not see his face. It would certainly not do for Jethro to know just how close he came to having his mouth fucked by the Mighty O’Neill. It would also not do for Jethro to learn how much he wanted him, wanted him more than the air he breathed, maybe even more than Daniel. But more importantly, Jack didn’t want Jethro to know how much he resented him for the pain that had been inflicted upon his heart at their last meeting six months ago.
Jack had laid his heart on the line only twice before in his life. Once with Sarah and once with Daniel. His son’s death had destroyed the love he had shared with his wife, and interfering aliens had cheated him of the love he could have had with Daniel. His feelings for Jethro Gibbs had snuck up on him, and instead of listening to his brain, he had listened to his heart and offered to share his life with the NCIS agent. Jethro’s refusal of not only Jack’s offer but also of his own homosexuality had put a swift end to their relationship.
Nearly a half a year had passed, and Jack really thought he had a handle on his feelings for the handsome ex-Marine. To have Jethro come waltzing back into his life as if nothing had happened was a bit too much for him to deal with. And even though he’d sell his soul to the devil to be balls deep in Jethro’s ass, he just couldn’t flip his heart back on just because Jethro decided it was okay to be gay and in love with a man.
"You got a place to stay?" Jack glanced over his shoulder and almost cracked a smile. His refusal of Jethro’s advances had certainly snatched the wind out of the man’s sail. ‘Serves you right, you bastard,’ he thought.
Collecting the empty beer bottles, Jack headed toward the kitchen, not bothering to see if his guest was following or not. "Hope you’re not staying at that place down the road. It’s got roaches the size of missile launchers."
"Are you kicking me out, Jack?"
Both beer bottles were thrown into the recycle bin with a little more force than usual. "You have to be invited in to be kicked out."
"I thought when you said---" Gibbs gripped Jack by his arm, and that was all it took.
Jack spun around, knocking Jethro’s hand loose in the process. Facing the half-dressed man, he growled, "You thought what? Hell, did you even think at all?" He clenched his hands tight and fought back the urge that demanded he either lash out with a fist or haul Jethro into his arms so that he could kiss the shit out of him.
"Did you really think it was going to be that easy, Gibbs? That you could just waltz in here, declare your love and have me fall down at your feet? That I’d be so damn grateful that you had finally decided you were gay and ready to be fucked?" Jack slapped away the hand reaching for him. "Think again, smartass."
Pushing Jethro to the side, he headed for the fridge. Maybe another beer or twelve would help him forget how much he wanted and loved the man standing behind him.
Before he could reach his destination, warm flesh plastered itself to his back and strong hands slid over his hips and down between his legs. Jack choked off the groan that threatened to reveal the hunger simmering just below his anger.
"Feels like a token protest to me," Gibbs whispered hotly in his ear.
Hands cupped the O’Neill family jewels, and Jack nearly bit through his bottom lip in order to remain silent. His desire for Jethro demanded he welcome the fingers playing with his zipper, but the words so arrogantly spoken next strengthened his refusal to yield.
"Seems the evidence is telling a different story, Jack. And according to that guy on TV, ‘the evidence never lies.’"
Jack looked down and shuddered when he saw that Jethro had discovered the threadbare spot in the crotch of his shorts. The man was seconds away from learning exactly how correct he was.
"Remove ‘em or lose ‘em," Jack hoarsely demanded. "Contrary to belief, I do not think with my dick."
"You son of a bitch."
Ignoring the curses being heaped upon his head, Jack turned and walked back into the living room, being extremely careful not to trip over the major boner that was leading the way. He collected his keys and wallet and waited for Jethro to join him. It was a full minute before the NCIS agent exited the kitchen, and the angry glare that slapped Jack in the face only made him smile triumphantly. Score one for the O’Neill team.
Jack held his keys up in the air and offered, "I’ve got to make a run to the store. Want me to drop you off at your hotel?"
"You know damn well I was planning on staying with you," Gibbs answered through gritted teeth.
Jack committed the unforgivable sin and looked into Jethro’s eyes. He saw anger, plenty of anger, but beneath that there was pain and confusion, and something that tugged on his heart. He knew from experience how hard it must have been for Jethro to lay bare his soul, but in no way was he ready to let his uninvited guest off the hook. There was nothing at all about the situation that would excuse Jethro’s arrogant behavior nor justify his assumption that Jack would simply fall into his arms the second a declaration of love was made. Only time would reveal the truth of Jethro’s declarations.
The spark of an idea took shape, and Jack grinned wolfishly at Jethro. "Guest bedroom is down the hall. Store your gear in there and then meet me outside. If you’re staying the weekend, I’ll need to stock up on some stuff."
"Will condoms and lube be on that list?"
Jack tore his gaze away from the arched eyebrow taunting him. "Don’t push your luck, Gibbs. The verdict’s still out in regards to this new lease on life you seemed to have acquired."
This time the groan that welcomed the mouth devouring his was allowed its freedom. Jack did, however, force his brain to rescind the order that would have had his hands gluing themselves to Jethro’s ass.
"Jesus Christ!" Jerking free of the fingers gripping his arms, Jack somehow found the strength to remove himself from temptation. That resolve nearly bit the dust when he saw the cheeky grin on Jethro’s face.
"You can label that kiss as exhibit A," the man suggested.
A sizeable erection brushed against his hip seconds before Jethro headed toward the door. Jack wiped at the sweat collecting on his upper lip. "Guess you want that submitted as exhibit B?" he mumbled under his breath.
Gibbs turned around and offered Jack a smile filled with confidence. "If it’ll help my case, you can definitely present it to the jury."
Jack squeezed his eyes shut on the image that instantly sprang to mind. He was still fucking mad at Jethro. M. A. D. Mad.
Then why in the hell was his dick so damn happy?
+++++++
"I’m not exactly into fish, O’Neill."
"Well, I am." Jack examined the selection of fresh vegetables displayed before him. "Besides, fish is considered brain food, and you need all the help you can get."
"Your wit simply astounds me."
Jack refused to rise to the bait. Instead he added zucchini, yellow squash and mushrooms to the carton of cherry tomatoes already in his cart. Grilled redfish and vegetables were on the night’s menu, and if Jethro had a problem with that, he could take a hike to the nearest McDonald’s.
Tossing a plastic bag at his weekend visitor, Jack instructed, "We’ll need some onions. Go grab a few." The snort of disgust directed at him was summarily dismissed.
Jack was digging through a bin of broccoli and had just found a large spear that was loaded with florets when he heard the husky rumble of Jethro’s laughter. He instinctively turned to see what was so funny about onions.
Right away it was evident that Jethro had accomplished the task assigned to him. A sack of onions dangled from his left hand. Unfortunately for Jack, a tall, willowy redhead dangled from Jethro’s other hand, and for a moment the heartache returned full force.
Jethro had just promised he was finished with women and was more than ready and willing to embrace his sexuality. From where Jack stood it looked as if Jethro was ready to embrace something, and that something had long shapely legs and boobs that could float a destroyer.
Shoving his cart to the side, Jack was halfway out of the store when his brain reminded him of the idea it had presented earlier. He stopped dead in his tracks and reversed directions. It was time to put ‘Gibbs Goes Gay’ Operation into action.
Jack returned to the fresh produce section and reclaimed his chosen spear of broccoli. He then navigated his way around the numerous shoppers that stood between him and Jethro. Parking his cart next to the display of onions, he stepped up to Jethro and, without missing a beat, pressed his lips to the man’s stubble-roughened cheek. Blue eyes went wide with astonishment and grew even wider when Jack plucked free the appropriated sack of onions and replaced them with his hand.
"And who do we have here, Sweetcheeks?" Jack asked, throwing a casual glance at the woman standing opposite him. He wanted to warn the startled redhead about the danger of swallowing flies but thought it best to remain quiet. Besides, he was too busy watching Jethro.
Jack had to give the man credit. It took Jethro all of 10 seconds to realize his claim to gayness was being tested. The hand tugging ceased instantly but was followed by a narrowing of eyes that were lit with the light of challenge.
‘Bring it on, Marine,’ Jack thought smugly. ‘I can take anything you dish out.’
Releasing the hand he was holding, Jack slid his arm around Jethro’s narrow waist and hugged him to his side. "Please tell me you weren’t swapping recipes again."
He turned his gaze to the woman and smiled. "My man just loves to cook, and it’s all I can do to keep him from turning into Mr. Tubby." Jack rubbed Jethro’s flat abdomen and hid his grin when the sack of onions he was holding bounced repeatedly against a vulnerable crotch.
Neither of them noticed the woman’s hasty retreat. Jack was too busy enjoying Jethro’s discomfort, and Gibbs, no doubt, was too busy thinking of ways to kill him.
The staring contest finally came to an end when Gibbs gave Jack a dose of his own medicine. In full view of Ma and Pa Gray-Hair, Gibbs leaned his full weight against Jack and licked the lobe of his ear. "Want you to fuck me, Jack," he purred seductively.
The unexpected maneuver and lewd request didn’t faze Jack at all. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, Gibbs,’ he silently challenged his companion.
Tossing the sack of onions into the cart and not caring that their weight crushed his near-perfect spear of broccoli, Jack, with an absolute straight face, grabbed Jethro by his hips and laid a kiss on him that had both Jethro and their senior citizen spectators gasping for breath.
"Remember who you’re dealing with, Tough Guy," he told a breathless Jethro. "I’ve been out of the closet a whole lot longer than you. I know how to play this game."
"O’Neill, you’re a first class S.O.B." Gibbs slipped a knee between Jack’s legs and nudged his groin. "Good thing I like bastards," he said with a smirk that set off all sorts of warning bells in Jack’s head.
Jack did his own gasping when one of his hands was taken hostage and not released until he had finished every bit of his shopping. They were standing in line waiting to check out when Jethro finally let go of him, and that was only because their intertwined hands would not fit in the pocket where Jack kept his wallet.
Wrestling his wallet free, Jack was secretly surprised and aroused beyond measure when a quintet of naughty fingers deliberately took up residence inside the rear pocket of his shorts. He was actually considering the notion of leaving them there for the duration but changed his mind when he discovered Ma and Pa Gray-Hair standing one lane over. Their glare of undisguised displeasure evoked a childish response, and Jack almost stuck his tongue out at the elderly couple. Fortunately the disobedient muscle was captured by teeth that knew how to behave.
Offering an apologetic smile, Jack pried Jethro’s fingers away from his ass and physically placed them on the handle of their grocery cart. They stubbornly refused to remain at their designated station, and Jack nearly dropped the case of beer he was holding when certain territory beneath the waistband of his shorts was investigated.
"Cut it out, Gibbs," Jack instructed huskily. The small of his back was one of the most sensitive places on his body, and Jethro was driving him wild with the way he was scraping the dimpled area with his nails.
"Make up your mind," Gibbs griped. "Do you want me in or out of the closet?"
Jack resisted the overwhelming urge to punch the mouth that was cheekily grinning at him. When the owner of the grin realized his dilemma and had the audacity to allow the grin to grow in size and sarcasm, Jack threw all caution to the wind.
Moving so that he stood directly in front of Jethro, he pinned the man with his gaze while discreetly pinning his crotch with a hand that was not in the mood to be nice. "Keep it up, Gibbs, and I’ll really give you something to grin about."
There was a subtle thrusting of hips, followed by the quirk of an eyebrow, both of which had Jack counting to ten while taking several slow, deep breaths. Neither one helped calm his temper, nor his libido, and when the words ‘Payback’s a bitch’ were whispered in his ear, Jack knew his plan to teach Jethro a lesson had just backfired on him.
Without saying another word, he paid for his groceries and exited the store. Jack knew Jethro was following close behind but refused to acknowledge him. Once again the man his heart desired had gotten the upper hand, and Jack was none too pleased.
"What the hell was that for?" Jack yelped. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned around and glared daggers at Jethro. His companion, who had helped himself to the complimentary coffee offered by the store, was now gazing at him over the rim of a steaming cup of java.
"That was for calling me Sweetcheeks," Gibbs coolly answered. "My name is Jethro. Not Sweetcheeks, not Tough Guy and not Mr. Tubby. Jethro. Call me Jethro or call me Gibbs. Cutesy nicknames are for romantic fools. I’m not a fool. Are you?"
Jack rolled his eyes and resumed walking toward his truck. "Whatever," he mumbled loud enough for the man now strolling beside him to hear. He was in the process of unlocking the passenger side-door when the back of his head was slapped again. "You got a death wish, Gibbs?" he growled menacingly as he turned to face Jethro.
The hand that had inflicted his pain returned. This time it gently curved around the back of his neck, exerting just enough pressure to pull Jack forward. Lips tasting of coffee met his with an unexpected tenderness and stole his breath when they nudged and nipped at his mouth.
"That was for showing me what I’ve denied myself all these years," Gibbs gruffly whispered. "It felt good holding your hand, Jack. Felt damn good when you stepped up and laid claim to me in front of Miss Chambers, who, by the way, is your newest neighbor. She just bought the house directly behind yours."
Gibbs moved into Jack’s personal space and slid his hands down over his ass. He squeezed both cheeks with a gentleness that spoke more to Jack of affection than it did of raw desire.
"I’m sorry I was such a bastard. Sorry I hurt you," Gibbs apologized.
Jack waited the entire measure of a heartbeat before relaxing into Jethro’s embrace. Maybe it was time to let go of the anger. Maybe. The jury was still weighing all the evidence.
"I’m not very good at relationships, as you well know," Gibbs continued. "And I sure as hell don’t have that much experience when it comes to relationships with men."
Gibbs cupped the side of Jack’s face and rubbed the spot right below Jack’s left ear. "Nathan was my first real male lover. Before him it was just a string of one night stands that were basically about fucking each other’s brains out."
Another kiss was bestowed upon Jack, and the lips carrying it lingered for a long time before moving away.
"Nathan’s death," Gibbs said, his voice burdened with sadness, "not only locked me in the closet but also put my heart on hold. I’ll admit I cared for the women I married, but I didn’t love them. That emotion died with Nathan."
Jack pulled free of Jethro’s arms. "So what are you telling me, Gibbs? Is love not an option with you? ‘Cause if that’s the deal then I’m not buying." Taking a step back, he rested his weight on the steel door behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. "I want love. As silly as that may sound, it’s what I want, what I need."
Bending a leg, Jack rested one foot against the lower part of the door and picked at a loose thread dangling from the hem of his cutoffs. "I said it earlier, and I’ll say it again. A short-term relationship is not what I’m looking for. And if you’re only playing at being gay so that you can get my ass in bed, well, if I was you, I’d seriously rethink that plan."
The sound of a door being slammed shut caught Jack’s attention, and he shook his head in disbelief when he saw who had parked next to him. Ma and Pa Gray-Hair were sitting in their shiny new Mercedes Benz. Both were frowning and no doubt condemning the souls of all fags to the fires of Hell. Jack was too tired to care if the Devil had room for both him and Jethro.
"Look, let’s go grab a bi---" Jack knew his mouth was inches from hitting the ground when Jethro spun around and tapped on Ma Gray-Hair’s window using his cup. A splatter of coffee hit the glass, and the elderly woman inside hesitated at least five seconds before rolling the window down a few inches.
"What do you want?" she asked after collecting a tissue and swiping at the smear of coffee staining her pristine car window.
Gibbs rested his arm on the car’s roof and gave the old woman his best smile. "You see that man over there?" He pointed at Jack.
"Yes, I see him."
Blue eyes that were blinding bright with genuine affection hit Jack hard, and he almost stopped breathing when he heard what Jethro had to say next.
"That’s the man I plan on taking to bed tonight and loving until he can’t remember his name," Gibbs stated loud and clear.
His declaration was in fact so loud that several shoppers near them turned their heads in his direction. Straightening, he walked up to Jack and pulled him into his arms. "What about it, Jack? Want to slide under the covers with a stubborn old Marine who’s finally pulled his head out of his ass?"
Jack found he was still holding his breath and let it out in a whoosh when Jethro playfully bit his chin.
"I care for you, Jack O’Neill, and I don’t doubt those feelings will soon slide into love. Forever love, if that’s okay with you," Gibbs told him and once again, his words were loud enough to be heard by all that were listening.
"You damn well better not be yanking my chain. I swear I’ll . . . ." Jack let his glare do the talking.
Gibbs loosened his hold and moved back a few inches. He trapped Jack with a gaze that allowed no argument. "Right now the only thing I plan on yanking is your damn fine di---"
Jack shut down Jethro’s announcement with a kiss that was greeted with applause by some and curses by others, specifically those parked next door. He grinned when the Mercedes peeled rubber, and his grin doubled in size when the luxury car slammed into the rear of a canary yellow VW that had seen better days.
Voices were soon raised in anger, but Jack ignored them all. He was too busy planning the next phase of his ‘Gibbs Goes Gay’ Operation.
Maybe he could invite a few close friends over, friends who knew the real Jack. It would be interesting to see exactly how his newly professed gay friend would act in front of them. Or better yet---
"Gibbs, you ever gone clubbing?"
End of chapter 6
Introductions, Chapter 7 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Jack O’Neill was where he was for one reason and one reason only. Surprisingly, he gets a little bit more than he hoped for.
Introductions 7
by
Angelise
+++++++
Life was good and getting better by the second.
Jack took a swallow of beer and moaned appreciatively when the cool liquid soothed his parched throat. The air around him was filled with cigarette smoke, smoke so thick it would easily choke the uninitiated. On the other hand, it was dense enough to hide a multitude of sins, and, at that particular moment, he was definitely more interested in sinning than he was worried about the well-being of his lungs.
Tonight was the night, and he was where he was for one reason and one reason only -- confirmation.
Taking another swig of beer, Jack leisurely inspected his surroundings.
‘Tommy’s’ was one of the more seedier clubs in the area, normally filled with what most would term as hardcore gays on the prowl. The converted warehouse was packed wall to wall with men who had only one thing on their minds -- getting laid. It wasn’t his usual haunt, but every now and then when the beast inside him demanded a loud and raucous place to prowl, ‘Tommy’s’ was the place to go.
Jack lifted his beer to his lips again. He also lifted the hand groping his ass, and with a smile that welcomed the attention but declined the offer, returned it to its owner. Tonight his beast was interested in just one man, and that man was a stubborn as hell ex-Marine, who, miracle of miracles, had finally decided to embrace the true nature of his sexuality.
Jack let loose a wolfish smile before taking another swallow. Life was definitely good.
Glancing toward the bar that ran the entire length of one wall, he searched for his missing date. He’d sent Jethro on a beer run nearly ten minutes ago, and the man had yet to return. It took a few seconds for him to locate the familiar face that had been haunting his dreams for the past six months, and when he finally did, he couldn’t help but laugh.
Jethro was surrounded by a group of boys who must have been football jocks if the letter jackets they wore were any indication. They also appeared to be as thick-skulled as they were thick-necked. Jethro’s expression plainly said ‘Back off, Jackass,’ but obviously the one idiot blocking his way was blind as well as dumb.
A parting of the sea of bodies between him and Jethro suddenly gave Jack a clear shot of the hand that was appreciating his man’s sizeable package. The enthusiastic fondle didn’t last long at all, the reason for its swift withdrawal being the two ice cold beers that were dumped down the pants of the fondler.
Jack choked on his beer upon seeing his date’s swift act of retaliation. He then hoarsely thanked the Good Samaritan who pounded him on the back when his laughter got tangled up with his drink and caused him to choke again. Returning his attention to the man walking toward him, Jack decided then and there that the look of annoyance and embarrassment on Jethro’s face was priceless and worth every miserable second that had passed since the handsome NCIS agent turned his back on their relationship.
Jack waved his empty bottle at Jethro and laughed when he was flipped the bird. His reminder of a botched mission had his date turning sharply on his heel and heading back to the bar. Jethro’s reputation preceded him, and the group of jocks that had openly admired his wares earlier hurriedly scrambled out of his path. Jack grimaced in sympathy for the innocent bystanders that got mowed down by the frightened athletes.
"Come on, boys, I assure you Gibbs’ bark is worse than his bite." He rubbed the passion mark on the side of his neck that was given to him seconds after arriving at the club. "But then again . . . ."
Heat blossomed in his groin. Closing his eyes, Jack took a moment to savor the feeling. "Soon," he promised his unrelenting erection. "Soon."
Looking across the crowded room, he spied the one who would fulfill the whispered promise, and laughter bubbled to the surface. Once again on the return trip Jethro was blatantly propositioned, this time by a biker whose face had seen more mileage than the machine he, no doubt, had ridden in on. Luckily for the man whose denim vest proclaimed him a member of the ‘Cheyenne Chieftains,’ his eyes and brain were in perfect working order. He took one look at Jethro’s face and removed not only his hand but his entire body out of harm’s way. The swift and unexpected retreat was obviously not the norm for the burly biker and had his cohorts shaking their heads in amusement as they followed in his wake.
"What kind of fucking club did you bring me to?" Gibbs asked once he drew even with his host. "Damn fool unzipped my jeans." He indicated the bottles he was carrying. "Good thing he took a hike. Hate to have added to those scars on his face."
Since both of Jethro’s hands were occupied, Jack did the honors of restoring his date’s modesty by zipping up the pair of well-worn, form-fitting jeans he had insisted Gibbs wear to the club. Of course it went without saying that by the time he finished his act of goodwill Jethro was sporting an even larger boner. "Fucking’s the main event at this place. Deal with it," Jack directed with a smirk.
One very large steel rod rubbed against his own, and Jack did nothing to strangle the moan that fully appreciated the maneuver.
"Oh, I’ll deal with it, Jack. In ways you can’t even imagine."
Gibbs sealed his threat with a move that had Jack straddling the knee nudging his groin. The smaller of his two brains demanded he hump the muscular appendage until he came in his pants. Instead he reached for the bottle of beer slapping against his belly.
"’Bout time you got back with the goods," Jack choked out. "A man could die of thirst waiting for you to wade through your fan club."
‘Asshole’ was thrown his way along with another one finger salute. Unable to contain his beast one second longer, Jack claimed the disagreeable frown surveying the hoards of the sweaty, lust-crazed men pressing against them. He held the insatiable mouth hostage until breathing became an absolute necessity. Sucking in air, he did some of his own groping and was treated to a feral grin that given the right surroundings, such as a California-sized mattress in a room dark and void of curious eyes, would have led to the nailing of a specific ass to the nearest horizontal surface.
"Jack."
"Jethro."
"O’Neill."
Teal’c’s low-pitched voice rudely interrupted Jack’s fantasy.
"I count only two bottles of liquid sustenance," the Jaffa announced. "Am I correct in assuming the remaining bottle belongs to me?"
"Huh?" Tearing his gaze away from the swollen lips that had his libido working overtime, Jack redirected his attention to the scowling warrior standing to his left.
It had come as quite the surprise when Teal’c accepted his invitation to get down and dirty. The reticent Jaffa had even gone as far as to dress the part, wearing not only a patriotic bandana on his bald head but also a pair of tight black jeans and an even tighter white cotton t-shirt. The combination of white on black, along with Teal’c’s bulging muscles, had men lining up in droves to make his acquaintance. Unfortunately Teal’c wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to his admirers. As he had informed Jack before entering the club, his main objective of the night was that of avoiding one very determined Jonas Quinn.
Jack caught sight of the bearded giant standing directly behind his friend. From the way the chain and leather enthusiast was eyeing Teal’c’s ass, Jonas was the least of the Jaffa’s problems.
Forcing his brain to ignore the image of Teal’c naked and tied to a rack, Jack turned to Jethro. "You forgot Teal’c’s beer," he cheerfully chastised his date.
Gibbs stopped mid-swallow. "I am not fighting my way back through that crowd. There’s only so much butt pinching one man can take, and I’m way beyond my limit. Hell, my ass’ll probably be black and blue by morning." He surrendered his beer to Teal’c. "Here, you can have the rest of mine."
Teal’c accepted the proffered bottle with a single nod of his head. "You are a generous man, Jethro Gibbs. First you absolve me of all blame for helping O’Neill apprehend you on the day of your bonding. And now you present me with this beer. I thank you."
"Forget it, Teal’c," Gibbs instructed. "And call me Jethro, okay?"
"Tell you what," Jack offered magnanimously, handing his fresh beer to Jethro. "My bladder’s on overload. You take my beer, and I’ll grab another one for myself on the way back from the restroom."
"Better your ass than mine running that gauntlet," Gibbs mumbled. "In fact, as far as I’m con--- Shit!"
Jethro’s eyes went wide all of a sudden, and Jack couldn’t contain the size of his grin. Peeling his fingers away from the growing redwood south of Gibbs’ belt, he leaned forward to whisper hotly, "Quit your yappin’ about your ass. It’ll see some action. Plenty of action." Jack patted the object of discussion. "Hope you took your vitamins this morning, Gibbs. It’s gonna be an all-nighter for the Mighty O’Neill."
With that promise left hanging in the air, Jack turned to go. The last thing he saw before the crowds obstructed his view was that of Teal’c assisting a beer-snorting Jethro to a nearby stool. He laughed. God, how he loved shocking the ex-Marine.
Jack made it to the restroom with his rear-end intact, a little bruised albeit, but that was par for the course at ‘Tommy’s’ as his date had discovered. The entire time he was inside taking care of his business he felt he was under surveillance. Finally while washing his hands he caught sight of the individual cataloging his best feature. Using the cracked mirror that hung above the sink, Jack took his time checking out his newest admirer.
The man was tall in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, with sandy brown hair that was desperately in need of a trim. The eyes . . . Jack squinted . . . there was not enough light for him to discover their color, which wasn’t exactly a problem considering his focus had shifted to a pair of lips that were begging to be fucked.
Jack momentarily closed his eyes in self-preservation. If he hadn’t already offered his heart to Jethro, he’d been more than happy to answer the blatant call to action.
It took him another thirty seconds to complete his appraisal and what he discovered below the set of broad shoulders was just as nice as the pretty face above them. For a fleeting moment he entertained a fantasy featuring both Gibbs and this stranger and groaned when his body took note of his x-rated imagination.
"I can help you with that, if you want."
Jack stared in amazement at the fingers lightly dancing along the curve of his hip. He immediately snapped his head up and locked gazes with the younger participant of his most recent fantasy.
"Name’s Tony. Me and my partner are here from Baltimore to attend some boring as hell conference on the subject of," the stranger lowered his voice and mimicked the speech pattern of a well-known program announcer, "‘Forensics in the New Millennium and the Impact It Will Have on Your Profession’ . . . or some shit like that."
The fingers caressing his hip waved nonchalantly through the air. As soon as they were finished punctuating the last sentence spoken, they returned to their former resting place, but this time were far too close for Jack’s peace of mind.
"Tony from Baltimore, it’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance, but this bad boy’s taken."
Jack made nice with a smile before quickly exiting the restroom. He wasn’t surprised at all to discover the stranger following him even after he’d collected his beer. Ready to fire off some witty remark that would get the eager pup off his tail, he turned abruptly. His unexpected move unfortunately had unexpected consequences, and before he could open his mouth, a hand was working his crotch while an insatiable mouth devoured his lips.
The groping lacked finesse but not the kiss. The kiss was near perfection, an eight on the scale of one to ten with Gibbs’ greedy pucker rating a twenty.
"Damn." Jack wiped his mouth dry and couldn’t help but wonder who in the world had taught this youngster the art of sucking face.
"Move it or lose it, Junior."
Jethro’s voice came out of nowhere, and even though it was pitched loud enough to be heard over the crowd, it sounded low, dangerous and demanded immediate obedience.
Tony was nobody’s fool.
He promptly removed his hand and his lips. Throwing both arms in the air, the stranger wisely took a step back. "Whatever you say, Hoss," Tony answered with a grin that warned of further disobedience.
Jethro’s scowl turned deadly, and Jack strategically planted himself between his soon-to-be lover and his wanna-be lover. "Come on, boys and," he looked over his shoulder at the approaching Jaffa warrior, "and uh, boys. Let’s play nice."
Jethro was given a thorough once over, and the grin on Tony’s face doubled in size. Curious as to what exactly the man found so funny, Jack followed his gaze. He chuckled when he discovered the possessive hand guarding his coveted manhood. Both his heads quickly swelled from all the attention.
"As I told him earlier," Tony spoke to Gibbs but nodded in Jack’s direction, "I’d be more than willing to help with that King Kong boner he’s got. In fact, I’m pretty good with both these babies." The man held out his hands. "If you want I could get you two off at the same time. Maybe make it a contest? See who’s the quickest on the draw?" Tony nervously glanced over his shoulder at Teal’c and noticeably gulped when he saw how big their friend was. "Is he with you?" Not waiting for an answer, he rushed forth with another outlandish offer. "Uh, well then, how ‘bout a foursome? He could do me while I do you two?"
Jack laughed aloud. His amusement immediately drew Tony’s attention back to him and unfortunately to his now unguarded manhood. The man licked his lips and took a step closer. His fingers were mere inches from touching him when Jack swore he heard Jethro growl like a wolf about to jump a defenseless yearling.
Tony heard it, too. His eyes went wide with disbelief, and in his haste to escape the wrath of Gibbs, he stumbled straight into Teal’c’s arms.
It was lust at first sight, at least on Teal’c’s part.
"O’Neill, does this human belong to you?"
Teal’c gripped Tony by the scruff of his neck and pulled him close. "His appearance pleases me, and . . ." the Jaffa looked his captive up and down, back and front, "I believe he possesses the stamina and strength necessary to handle my impressive weapon."
Ignoring the look of lust mixed with fear and hope on Tony’s face, Jack raised one eyebrow. "Impressive?" he inquired of his friend.
Teal’c answered with his usual arrogant nod of the head. "So I have been told."
Jack made a mental note to weasel free the identity of whoever was filling Teal’c’s head with delusions of grandeur. "Uh, back to the subject at hand."
Applied pressure below his belt quickly reminded him of the hand that was once again protecting his subject. "To answer your question, Teal’c, no. That human in no way belongs to me. Of course, if certain parties were interested, we could take the boy up on his offer and play out a favorite fantasy of mi---"
Jack suddenly saw stars. He plucked at the jealous hand squeezing his dick and sighed with relief when it relaxed its painfully constrictive hold. Stomping his feet several times, Jack shook the Mighty O’Neill into a more comfortable position and slapped at the hand trying to reclaim him. "Nope, nope. The man’s all yours."
Teal’c ignored Jack’s antics and turned to the remaining member of their group. "Jethro Gibbs, do you wish to claim this human?"
Shifting his gaze from his bruised jewels to Jethro’s face, Jack frowned. He wasn’t the least bit happy with the way his man was visually detailing every delectable inch of ‘Tony from Baltimore.’ The beast within him rose up with a fury. It was one thing for him to entertain lascivious thoughts about the newcomer. Jethro on the other hand should only be having thoughts about the one, the only, Jack O’Neill.
He twisted around and took hold of Jethro by his shoulders. "Gibbs," he warned with what he hoped was a withering glare.
Jethro gave him the half-smile that promised both heaven and hell. "He’s nice-looking," Gibbs said aside to Teal’c, "but I’ve got my hands full with this one." Jethro gripped Jack by his hips and yanked him toward the dance floor. "Maybe next time," he offered the stunned stranger who was also being hauled unceremoniously in the same direction.
"Next time, my ass," Jack mumbled into the cotton-covered shoulder his face was blissfully flattened against.
"If you insist."
Jack found himself twirled around so that his back was plastered to Jethro’s chest and his ass seated nicely against a crotch that was clearly declaring its intentions. He opened his mouth to protest the unexpected turn of events but snapped it shut when voracious lips and hands attacked his person. Tilting his head so that it rested on Jethro’s shoulder, he dismissed the thought that he should take top dog position and bared his throat to the teeth that were intent on marking him again.
"Yeah," Jack hummed. "Perfect."
Exquisite heat took possession of an ear lobe, and he shuddered in response.
"Are you purring, Jack?"
"And if I am?"
Laughter rich with the promise of impending depravity greeted his query.
"No problem," Gibbs replied. "Just checking."
Minutes passed while Jack savored being held. Soon the urge to do some tasting of his own hit, and he moved so that he was facing his partner. Setting his mouth in motion, he started with the skin below Jethro’s left ear before moving lower so that he could test the solidity of a collarbone with his teeth. A grunt of pleasure not only welcomed his exploration but also reminded him of the reason why he was where he was that night. "Speaking of ass," he murmured in the ear he had just toured with his tongue.
Pulling away Jack took hold of Jethro by the shoulders and turned him around, reversing their original dance position. Spooned together as tightly as possible, Jack put his teeth to work on the enticing nape before him while leisurely unbuttoning Gibbs’ shirt. The most perfect ass ever recruited by Uncle Sam ground against his burgeoning erection, and it took every ounce of his control to keep from coming in his pants.
"Fuck, that feels good," Jack growled. "I’m so hard I could drill your ass right here, right now." He pinched, then twisted a nipple. "Yeah, that’s the ticket. Take you down, shove my dick in deep and ride you hard and fast."
His comments garnered an immediate response. He laughed as the chest he was blindly scoring with his fingernails labored for air.
"Liked that, huh. Liked me talking dirty?" Jack tugged on Jethro’s shirt, pulling it off his shoulders and partially down his arms. He sunk his teeth into the muscle that connected neck to shoulder. "Bet I could make you come with just my words."
"Fuck you." Gibbs lifted his hands as if to pull his shirt back on but hesitated for a second. Jack took advantage of the pause and yanked the shirt further down, giving him more territory to investigate.
His arms hampered, Gibbs groaned, "Jack."
"Yes?" Jack knew Jethro wasn’t actually voicing a protest. Hell, the man’s tits and dick were both saluting the removal of his shirt.
"Damn, I’d give anything to strip you naked. Would you like that, Gibbs?" Jack asked. "Would you like to dance naked in my arms?"
Jethro answered physically instead of verbally. He grabbed Jack’s behind and squeezed it hard.
"Was that a ‘yes,’ Agent Gibbs?"
Jack shuddered when the hands on his ass pulled his buttcheeks apart. The resulting gap exposed his hole to the rough denim material of his jeans. By the time Jethro’s fingers plowed his crack, Jack felt his knees grow weak. Tilting his head back, he attempted to regain a measure of control by gnawing on his bottom lip until the taste of blood filled his mouth.
Gibbs reacted to his show of weakness by attacking his throat, using his teeth to worry the bruise already there.
"Damn hickey’s gonna glow in the dark," Jack groused aloud.
"Excuse me? Are you complaining?" Gibbs asked.
Wondering how in the hell Jethro could string together not one but two coherent questions while his jeans were being unfastened simply amazed Jack. "You must be imagining things. No complaints here."
Gibbs grunted before resuming the task he had set for himself.
Redirecting his attention further south, Jack slipped his hand inside Jethro’s pants and stroked the damp cotton briefs he discovered. He wrapped his hand around the steel shaft that liberally wept pre-come, and immediately his jaw was the next to fall victim to his date’s insatiable mouth.
"Jack, dammit. Please."
"Please what?"
Jack forced his hands away from Jethro’s erection. "Tell me what you want, Gibbs. What you really want." He rested his chin on the nearest broad shoulder and waited for an answer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jethro licking the sweat off his upper lip, and it was all he could do to keep from spinning the man around and sucking on that tongue until they both passed out from asphyxiation.
"I’m waiting," he reminded his silent dance partner. "Tell me what you want. Show these Neanderthals how hungry the real Jethro Gibbs is for a man’s touch."
"Not here, you bastard," Gibbs forced out. He waved an unsteady hand at the circle of human vultures that appeared mesmerized by their wanton behavior.
Jack captured Jethro’s hand and forced it down so that it rested inside his open crotch. "Yes, here. That’s why we came here." He gripped the hand he was holding and rubbed it against the hardness that was threatening to erupt. "I’ve already warned you that I’m not hiding our relationship. If you want to be with me, you’ll be with me, privately and publicly."
The body leaning against him tensed for what seemed like forever, and Jack was on the verge of declaring defeat when, with a long, drawn-out sigh, Jethro completely relaxed.
"Touch me, Jack," he gruffly demanded. "Touch me, kiss me, fuck me. I want it all, here and now; onlookers be damned."
Something Jethro said triggered a memory for Jack and, with a feral grin, he took Gibbs to the very edge, using his mouth and hands. By the time he forced himself to release the raging hard-on his date sported, Jethro wasn’t the only one ready to shoot his load.
Vehement moans of disappointment from the group of men surrounding them protested his withdrawal. The loudest objection drew his attention, and Jack nearly choked when he saw Teal’c devouring the sassy mouth of their most recent acquaintance. In his endeavor to force Jethro to acknowledge his sexuality, Jack had forgotten his friend. Fortunately Teal’c had found someone to keep him company and from the way Tony from Baltimore was sucking on the tongue ramming its way down his throat, the Jaffa warrior was well taken care of.
"Fly Boy."
Jack ripped his gaze away from the look of absolute bliss on Tony’s face and his brain away from the fantasy that refused to let go of his imagination. "Yeah?" he asked dreamily.
"So close, Jack," Gibbs grumbled. "For God’s sake, don’t stop now." Flipping around the ex-Marine ground his hips hard against Jack’s. "Get me off, you bastard. Finish what you started."
Jack bit the side of Jethro’s neck before whispering hoarsely, "Oh I’ll get you off, Gibbs. Have no fear." He took Jethro by the hand and headed toward the men’s restroom. "Later, Teal’c," he called over his shoulder.
"Where the hell are we going?" Gibbs demanded while trying to walk, pull his shirt on and zip up his pants, all at the same time.
Jack spun around and took possession of Jethro’s mouth. By the time he ended the kiss, he had one finger up Jethro’s butt. "I’ll give you one guess."
Gibbs rocked forward into the hand clutching his rod and back onto the finger probing his hole. "As long as you fuck me, I don’t give a shit."
Jack laughed. "One fucking coming right up."
Minutes later he was balls deep in Jethro’s ass, thrusting for all he was worth. "How’s this for finishing what I started?"
Howling each time his prostate was ruthlessly grazed, Gibbs clung to the sides of the bathroom stall, his legs spread wide, his head thrown back. "Fuck . . . FUCK!"
Demanding hands gripped his hips, forcing Jack to quicken his thrusts. More than willing to comply, he let loose the beast and was soon yelling just as loud as his companion. Reaching for Jethro’s leaking shaft, he jerked hard on it several times and was quickly rewarded with the man’s steamy release.
Jethro stumbled from the force of his orgasm. Jack threw an arm around his waist and kept him from falling to his knees. "Not yet. I’m not . . . shit . . . not finished . . . Jethro!"
The blazing inferno which had taken hold of his brain suddenly seared its way straight down his spine and into his balls, throwing him into a mind-shattering climax. Jack lost all control and wildly slammed his cock into the ass whose spasming muscles were milking the very life out of him. Entire galaxies disintegrated behind his eyelids, and it was several minutes before he could form a sentence that wasn’t pure gibberish.
"That was fan-fucking-tastic."
An uncontrolled shudder was the only answer Jethro could offer. It was enough for Jack, and he gently kissed the lips that blindly searched for his.
Maintaining his hold on the lax body before him, Jack whispered, "This is where it all began, remember, Gibbs? Here, in a stall just like this."
"I . . . I remember," Gibbs replied after a minute. "How the hell could I forget you jerking me off in the bathroom of that fancy restaurant? It’s wonder the management didn’t kick our asses to the street."
"Ah, baby, you say the sweetest things." As carefully as possible, Jack pulled out and efficiently discarded the used condom. A grunt of pain greeted his retreat and, after collecting a handful of toilet paper, he checked to see if Jethro was bleeding. There was a trace of blood but not enough to worry about.
After returning their clothes to right, Jack pried Jethro’s fingers loose and turned the man around to face him. He was pleasantly surprised when his arms were filled with a pliant body that was more than happy to have him support its full weight.
"Should’ve listened to Ducky." Gibbs reluctantly admitted after several minutes spent exhaustedly nuzzling and kissing his lover’s mouth. Pulling away, he looked Jack straight in the eye. "Should have listened to you."
"Damn right," Jack agreed with a grim smile. "Would’ve saved us both a lot of pain and heartache."
"I’m a hardnosed stubborn bastard. What can I say?" Taking hold of Jack’s hand, Gibbs unlocked the stall door and walked out. Their reappearance was applauded by both Teal’c and Tony from Baltimore.
‘Gotta find out what the hell his last name is.’ Jack thought. "Can’t call him Tony from Baltimore forever now, can I?’
His musings were interrupted when Jethro pulled him into an embrace that was witnessed by the countless number of men crowding into the restroom. The NCIS agent went one step further and claimed Jack’s mouth in a kiss that left no doubt to which side of the road his heart now traveled upon.
Winking at Teal’c, Jack surrendered to the insistent tongue demanding admittance. He was happy and sated and in possession of the one thing he had been searching for since the moment Jethro had arrived on his doorstep declaring he was a changed man.
Jack had confirmation.
Confirmation from the man who was setting his ear on fire with the whispered plans he had for the remainder of their weekend together.
Jack grinned.
Life was good, so very good, especially if he could convince Jethro to fulfill a certain fantasy of his.
"Hey! Tony from Baltimore! How long did you say you’d be visiting this neck of the woods?"
End of chapter 7
End Notes:
Folks, I was seriously considering making this the final chapter. Seven’s the perfect number, right? Of course as soon as I typed ‘the end,’ the muse hit me with another idea. Damn this pairing! They’re too much fun to play with. Oh hell, I guess I’ll continue on.
Introductions, Chapter 8 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Fate presents Jethro with a potential problem.
Introductions 8
by
Angelise
+++++++
"Shit."
Jethro stared at the name on the employment file lying directly in the middle of his desk. Countless minutes ticked by while he contemplated the trouble Fate had just dropped in his lap.
Trouble that was spelled with a capital ‘T.’ Capital T… O… N… Y, to be exact.
Tony from Baltimore. The very enthusiastic, the very sexy Tony DiNozzo from Baltimore.
"Shit."
Jethro sat down and slid one finger along the open edge of the folder, sliding it up and down, over and over. Of all the people in the world to apply for a position at NCIS, it had to be him. Tony with the unforgettable eyes and the even more unforgettable mouth.
Leaning back in his chair, he contemplated the ceiling. "Why? Why?" Jethro asked the tiles above him. "Just when things are going right for me." Closing his eyes, the NCIS agent counted off his list of recent accomplishments. "One, believe it or not, I’ve got my act together; I’m finally comfortable with who I am."
"Two, I’ve found a man who cares about me despite the fact that I’m a first-class bastard. Despite the fact that it’s taken me nearly forty years to get my gay ass out of the closet." Jethro straightened in his chair and pulled out his wallet. He easily liberated the picture Ducky had given him several months ago. It was a photo of a much younger Jack O’Neill. The man stood with one arm slung around Ducky's shoulders, and both were laughing.
Jethro focused his gaze on Jack’s smiling lips. Seconds passed as he remembered the last time he enjoyed the unique flavor of those particular lips. To put it honestly, Jack’s mouth was lethal. One kiss and Jethro, nine times out of ten, was hauling his lover to the nearest horizontal surface. It was almost as if he was making up for lost time, he was so sexually charged. Needless to say, Jack was always willing to assist him in this endeavor.
Jethro allowed himself a small smile.
Despite the fact that they were both Alpha males, the two of them actually meshed well together. Jack’s openness about his sexuality helped Jethro deal with his reticence. He truly appreciated the fact that Jack was comfortable with being gay. Hell, to be honest, he secretly envied the man. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t in his nature, and he couldn’t even begin to explain how relieved he was to discover Jack didn’t actually visit ‘Tommy’s’ on a regular basis. The openly gay bar had been a real eye-opener for Jethro, to say the least.
‘I only go when I feel the need to get down and dirty,’ Jack had explained. ‘Yes, I’m out of the closet and yes, my closest friends know about it. But unlike you, I am still in the military, and despite evidence to the contrary, I’m not as stupid as I look or act. I definitely understand the consequences of being a gay man in a straight man’s army.’
‘Of course,’ Jack had gone on to say with a gleam of mischief in his eyes, ‘that doesn’t mean that I won’t nail your ass to the floor on those rare occasions when I do cut loose.’
Jethro conceded the issue once he had heard Jack’s explanation. He’d even accompanied him to the gay club several months earlier when the need had overwhelmed his partner. In fact, if memory served him correctly, they were just about due for another ‘outing,’ as Jack was fond of calling it. Maybe this time round he’d be the one to suggest they make a trip to ‘Tommy’s’ for some fun and relaxation.
This time Jethro did nothing to control his grin. He did so enjoy turning the tables on his lover. Jack was always encouraging him to ‘step out of the box,’ ‘to loosen up.’ Maybe it was time to do just that.
"Four days and counting, Fly Boy," Jethro promised the photo.
Shifting in his chair, he noticed the crotch of his slacks was suddenly a little too snug for comfort, and he hastily replaced Jack’s photo in his wallet. Out of sight but definitely not out of mind, Jethro silently apologized to his lover’s picture.
"Moving on. Three," he announced with gusto, "my divorce is final. I’m a free man, free to openly pursue a relationship with the one, the only, Jack O’Neill."
His smile slipped a bit when he thought of their future. His relationship with Jack was putting a strain on his wallet and his body. More often than he cared to count, it was he who was taking the red-eye to Colorado every month or so. Jack, because of his current assignment, was nearly always on-call and couldn’t just pick up and fly to D.C. whenever he wanted to visit his ‘boyfriend.’
"I swear if you ever call me ‘boyfriend’ while out in public, I’ll kick your ass clear down to Mexico." Jethro flexed the thigh muscles of his right leg in anticipation and groaned when they protested the move. The memory of why his thigh muscles were sore prompted him to groan again.
He and Jack were too damn old to be making out like teenagers, but that was exactly how the two of them were acting. No doubt the strain on his body was largely due to the fact that the majority of their time together was spent naked in bed, fucking their brains out. Jack was insatiable, and Jethro wasn’t sure his old bones could handle all the ‘O’Neill loving’ his lover was determined to lay on him.
Not only that but his job had begun to suffer and that was something Jethro could not allow to continue. Therefore, whether Jack liked it or not, the consequences of their long-distance love affair would be the hot topic of conversation the next time they got together.
Remembering the bags and dark circles under his eyes that had greeted him in the mirror the last time he’d returned home, Jethro made a mental note to include a pair of handcuffs when he packed for his upcoming trip. Serious conversations required serious measures, and he wasn’t above handcuffing Jack to a chair in order to accomplish that task.
"Of course once we finish our discussion, we can always use the handcuffs for other things."
Tucking away that particularly tempting idea, Jethro nodded good-night to fellow Agent Pacchi and resumed his conversation with Fate.
"Life is good. Why in God’s name do you want to screw with it now? Haven’t I been through enough?" The memories of Nathan’s suicide, the tragic death of his first wife and daughter and the failure of his subsequent two marriages -- all rose up to haunt him, and it took the arrival of the cleaning crew to pull him away from his gloomy meditation.
One glance at the folder beneath his hand instantly restored his good mood. Opening the file, he groaned when he saw the required photo attached to the first page. Anyone who had eyes could plainly see that the black and white image of Anthony DiNozzo screamed trouble. "Trouble with a capital ‘T’, remember?" Jethro whispered.
Shaking his head, he covered the photo with his hand. Why couldn’t the man’s employment picture be like everybody else’s, dreadfully hideous and totally boring? For a second, Jethro was tempted to steal the damn thing and keep it for himself. Not only was the young cop’s expression brazen as hell, but his lopsided grin was pure temptation, a temptation that both he and Jack had been unable to resist.
Memories that were triple x-rated slipped into place, and Jethro surrendered to their siren call. Slapping the file closed, he leaned back in his chair and recalled a certain up close and personal encounter with the talented Mr. DiNozzo.
***Three Months Earlier***
Jethro grunted when his head slammed into the wall. He should have protested the way he was haphazardly shoved through the back door of Jack’s house, but his mouth was completely occupied with the tongue burrowing its way inside.
Dropping his hands to Jack’s hips with the intention of pulling him closer, Jethro unexpectedly encountered a head instead of a hip. With a start, he realized his dick was plundering a pair of lips that in no way belonged to his lover.
Unwilling to give up the pleasure of Jack’s searing kisses, Jethro cast his eyes down and caught sight of a disheveled mop of hair. He also noticed a huge slab of black meat knocking against the head covered in brown hair. The size of the cock was mind-boggling, and Jethro nearly choked in disbelief when he saw it disappear completely between a pair of lips that were wet and swollen. Cool air assaulted his groin in the same instant, leading him to assume that the mouth that had been sucking his dick dry was now servicing the enormous shaft.
"Bed. Bed, Jethro," Jack mumbled against his lips, returning his attention to the matter at hand.
Jethro tore his mouth free and drew in the necessary air to live. Grappling with his unfastened jeans, he stumbled after Jack down the hallway and into the bedroom. He yelped when his lover shoved him down on the bed and then swiftly stripped him of his clothes. Naked and hard as a rock, Jethro planted his feet on the mattress and thrust his hips upward, fully exposing himself. His unspoken action did not go unheeded.
"Want some more, is that it?" Jack asked, tossing his shirt over his shoulder. Licking his lips, he shucked off his jeans and proudly presented his manhood to Jethro.
One look at the Mighty O’Neill, and Jethro was rolling over on his belly. It was his turn to bottom this go round, and so far it had been the ride of his life.
The tip of one blunt finger probed his hole and exerted a certain amount of pressure, coaxing him to his hands and knees. Jethro obeyed without question. He groaned when two more fingers wiggled their way inside his ass.
"You’re still fucking wet," Jack acknowledged.
Jethro looked over his shoulder at his lover. "I guess so," he wryly agreed. "You loaded my hole with a gallon of lube when you fucked me earlier."
Several moist kisses were planted on his left buttcheek. "Didn’t want to hurt this sweet ass of yours," Jack whispered between kisses.
Jethro clutched the hand pinching his tits. He kissed its palm. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Jack, but if you don’t fuck me again, I’m going to lay some serious hurt on *your* sweet ass."
Laughter greeted his threat.
More kisses made their way up his spine, followed by a swift bite to the back of his neck. "Hang on to that thought, babe," Jack instructed, "cause as soon as I’m finished fucking you senseless, I’m hoping you’ll return the favor."
Jack’s request caught Jethro by surprise. Normally they didn’t reverse their roles once established. Whoever was top topped for the entire weekend and whoever was bottom went ass up regardless.
Jethro felt his cock twitch in response. Hell, if Jack wanted to forfeit his position as top dog, then so be it. Certain parts of his anatomy were entirely happy with the prospect.
The three fingers that had been stretching him pulled out only to be replaced by the solid width of Jack’s erection. Jethro gnawed on his bottom lip until he felt his lover’s balls slap against his perineum. "God, Jack. You have no idea how good this feels."
"Better than before?"
One sweat-damp chest plastered itself to his back, pushing Jethro down. He spread his knees apart to accommodate the extra weight. "Shit!" he exclaimed when the new position allowed Jack to slide even further inside.
"I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’"
Jethro reached back and slapped Jack on the butt. "Move it, Fly Boy."
Sharp teeth took hold of his earlobe and nibbled on it for seconds on end. Jethro growled, "Jack, please."
Jack responded by gathering his balls in one hand while gripping his erection with the other. He then made a like a statue, which only served to drive Jethro insane.
"Move, you bastard. Fuck me. Jerk me off. Come on, Jack. Do something!"
"Your wish is my command," was hotly whispered in his ear.
Jack surged forward with what Jethro could only describe as frantic need and hot passion. His lover took him harder and deeper, driving him into the mattress repeatedly. Finally, in an effort to keep from being suffocated by the pillows beneath him, Jethro forcibly lifted himself back onto his hands and knees. The sudden move slammed his back into Jack’s chest, driving the air from his lover’s lungs and the semen from his dick. Jack roared his delight. Luckily for Jethro, his companion maintained control of his faculties long enough to accommodate his lover’s need. Jack grabbed hold of Jethro’s weeping cock and jerked on it until it spewed its steamy load all over the bed.
The last embers of his orgasm were burning themselves out by the time Jethro regained complete awareness of his surroundings. There was a delicious ache in his ass that was intensified by the liquid heat seeping from his hole. Both his shoulders smarted from the multiple bite marks scattered across them. His dick . . . Jethro looked down and found a limp noodle where there once was a raging hard-on.
Collapsing exhaustedly on the mattress, he turned his head to the side and grinned when he saw Jack lying beside him, blowing like a freight train. "Guess somebody, and I’m not mentioning any names, is just a little bit out of shape."
"Smartass," Jack wheezed.
Shifting out of the large wet spot he’d created, Jethro slid closer to his lover and carefully removed the used condom. He scooted away only long enough to locate a garbage can. Once the condom was disposed of, he pulled his incoherent lover into his arms and rubbed his hands over the muscles that were still trembling.
"You are definitely a man of your word, Jack," Jethro said with a chuckle.
Jack cracked one eye open and looked up at him. "I am?" he asked.
"Yep," Jethro answered.
Jack slid off to the side and looked long and hard at him. When his lover’s gaze traveled south, followed by his hands, Jethro groaned and spread his legs, welcoming the fingers that teased his overly-sensitive balls.
"You gonna tell me what the hell you’re talking about?" Jack asked a moment later.
"Huh?" Jethro felt himself harden again. ‘Impossible,’ he thought. No way could he be ready to go again.
Jethro looked down at his groin in amazement. Good Lord, he’d already shot his load twice and, to be honest, men his age rarely got it up a third time. At least not without a little help. Hell, he’d already increased his vitamin intake, not to mention upped the number of times he visited the gym. Maybe Ducky could offer some medical advice. The old geezer always seemed bright-eyed and bushy tail, despite his numerous romantic liaisons. Maybe he knew the secret to---
"Earth to Jethro?"
Jethro shifted his gaze from the flag pole rising from his groin to the fingers waving in front of his face. "Huh?" he repeated.
Jack rolled his eyes. "Listen carefully, Jarhead. Why . . . am I . . . a man of my word?"
Jethro grasped his lover’s roving hand and brought it to his chest, locking it in place. "You fucked me senseless, you bastard. Hell, it’s a wonder I’m making any sense at all."
"And that’s a bad thing?"
Jethro writhed when Jack attacked his tits with great enthusiasm. He was on the verge of returning the favor when an unfamiliar heat swallowed his dick. Confused as hell, he shoved Jack to the side.
"What the fuck!" he yelled when he discovered Tony kneeling between his legs. In his haste to get Jack inside his ass, Jethro had forgotten all about the other two men.
It was just after their first meeting that the young cop from Baltimore had somehow sweet-talked Jack into giving him his email address. Much to his lover’s dismay, Tony had proven to be quite the correspondent. Hardly a day went by, according to Jack, that he didn’t receive some sort of note from the boy. In fact it had gotten so bad that Jack had been forced to open a Yahoo account just for Tony.
His lover had sent him the address and password for the new email account, hoping he would help him with the deluge of messages. Jethro had taken pity on Jack. He answered one email in his no-nonsense manner, confident Tony would get the hint and curb his enthusiasm. It was a mistake he would regret for the rest of his life. Suddenly it he who was inundated with newsy emails, and Jack was more than happy to have him assume the job of correspondent. Jethro refused. In no uncertain terms he told both his lover and Tony that he was too busy to play on the internet.
Now, having said that, Jethro did somehow manage to find the time to slip downstairs to Abby’s lab at lunch and use her office computer to check in with ‘his men.’ He read each one of Tony’s letters and each one of Jack’s replies. To say he was royally pissed when Jack accidentally let it slip that the two of them were getting together was an understatement. Tony jumped on that tidbit like a dog with a bone and worried them constantly with his request for another weekend of foursome sex.
Thankfully Jack had had the decency to consult with him before giving Tony an answer. It didn’t take a genius to figure out his lover was more than willing to indulge the young man. Jethro had plainly heard the hunger in Jack’s voice as they discussed over the phone the advantages and disadvantages of participating in a foursome. Jethro had agreed only because he was still, to some extent, insecure about his relationship with Jack. He didn’t want to rock the boat so early in the game and have Jack resent his possessive nature.
Tony’s voice interrupted his reverie. "Uh huh. Oh yeah. Let’s get it on, Big Boy."
The head of the bed tilted suddenly, and the reason became apparently clear when Jethro refocused his attention and looked further down the mattress. Teal’c was directly behind Tony, and from the way his hips were pistoning back and forth, it was obvious that Jack’s friend was fucking the shit out of his partner.
"Look at him."
Jethro looked at Teal'c and wondered once again why the man insisted on wearing a t-shirt whenever they fucked. He seemed to remember Jack mumbling something about some weird scars on his abdomen. Having seen more than his fill of hideous scars during his military career, Jethro had muttered in response, "How weird can they be?"
He shifted his gaze to the strange tattoo Teal'c had on his forehead and couldn’t help but question its symbolism. He got so fixated on the damn thing that he almost missed the words being whispered in his ear.
"Watch Tony’s face," Jack instructed. "That boy was made for fucking."
Jethro obeyed without hesitation and frowned when an unwelcomed hunger to take Teal’c’s place punched him in the gut. "Jack, maybe this was a bad---"
Hands coaxed him into a sitting position, followed by arms that slipped beneath his own and lifted his butt off the mattress.
"Hold still."
The flared head of Jack’s cock breached his hole. Throwing back his head, Jethro scrunched his eyes shut and exclaimed, "Fuck!" His abused sphincter was not extremely happy about the unexpected invasion, and he hissed loudly in response to the burning sensation that traveled straight up his spine. The pain didn’t last long, and the hiss turned into a drawn-out sigh of pleasure the second Jack was fully sheathed inside his ass,
"Comfy?" his lover smugly asked.
Jethro wiggled his behind and grinned when he heard Jack choke back a groan. "Maybe that’s a question you should ask the rod rammed up my butt?"
Jack shared his laughter in a kiss that soon had Jethro struggling for air. So caught up in the voracious kiss, he totally ignored the hands bending his legs up. He did although murmur a slight complaint when his thighs were pushed open wide, and the position stretched muscles that weren’t nearly as flexible as they were during his youth.
"Look at him, babe," Jack said. "Look at the way he’s working your dick."
Jethro fought the temptation for all of ten seconds before looking. "Oh shit!"
Tony’s delectable lips were sealed to the base of his cock, not to mention the man was making the most obscene noises he had ever heard. Jethro felt himself harden even more when Jack added his fingers to the mix, slipping them in and out of Tony’s mouth, tracing the blood-red lips that glistened with a mixture of saliva and pre-seminal fluid.
"With a mouth like that I bet he could make you come just from kissing you," Jack predicted.
"Ya think?" Jethro felt Jack’s laughter against the side of his neck. He took a moment to capture his lover’s smirking lips with a kiss and moaned when the cock inside his ass significantly increased in size. "How ‘bout we test your theory."
"Oh yeah," Jack agreed.
His lover snagged Tony’s attention by pinching his nose. When the man jerked away, Jethro couldn’t help but groan in dismay at the way his hips involuntarily lifted off the mattress. He could deny it until he was red in the face, but his body knew the truth, knew how much he wanted Tony to suck him off.
"Come here, Sweetness," he heard Jack say through the haze of lust clouding his thoughts.
Tony obeyed, following after the fingers that were tugging on his chin. Teal’c also followed and did so with his cock firmly seated in his partner’s ass.
Much to his anxious delight, Jethro welcomed the temporary stop Tony made along the way. The younger man attacked both his nipples, and the enticing heat of his mouth along with the exquisite sharpness of his teeth did nothing to ease the unrelenting hunger taking hold of his senses.
"Kiss him, Tony," Jack demanded. "Kiss Jethro hard."
Jethro growled when both his mouth and his dick were taken hostage. He didn’t know who the hell was jerking him off, but it felt fucking good, as fucking good as the rod stroking its way in and out of his ass.
Returning his attention to the hijacker of his mouth, Jethro moaned gutturally. Tony couldn’t seem to make up his mind. One minute he was sucking on his tongue, the next his bottom lip. He fought for dominance and growled with delight when he won the battle. Soon he was working Tony’s mouth as hard and as furious as he was working the hand clutching his dick.
When Jack’s mouth and tongue replaced Tony’s, Jethro lost it. He gave himself over to his lover, allowing his kisses to stoke the fire. Within seconds his impending orgasm was announced by a howl of capitulation, and both Tony and Jack took proper notice. Tony swooped down and resumed ownership of his erupting dick while Jack bucked wildly beneath him, ramming his cock deep inside his ass with each thrust.
Scorching heat blistered his innards and the skin of his belly minutes after his own climax died down to a dull roar. Jethro forced open his eyes and watched Tony come. The look of pure bliss on the younger man’s face mesmerized him, and he was near to losing himself in Tony’s deep, coffee-colored eyes when Jack climaxed.
"Jethro!" his lover hollered. Jack’s cry was echoed by Tony, which caught Jethro completely by surprise. He reached for the handsome stranger, wanting nothing more than to pull him into his arms. His hand never made contact.
"DiNozzo, it is time," Teal’c announced.
Jethro fully expected Jack’s friend to let loose an ear-splitting roar and was somewhat disappointed when all he got was a low-pitch grunt. Tony on the other hand did not disappoint him. The handsome stranger more than made up for Teal’c’s subdued vocal response. By the time the dark-skinned giant emptied his load, Tony was a blithering idiot.
"Oh yeah. Fuck yeah. Uh huh. Hammer my ass, King Kong. Hammer hard, ham---WHOO HOOO!"
Without warning Tony was pulled into an upright kneeling position and locked tight against Teal’c’s wide chest. He immediately made like a leech and did his best to lay a serious hickey on his new lover’s neck.
Jethro found the sight unbelievably arousing, but his not so little soldier was down for the count. Damn thing didn’t even twitch when he saw the rivulets of semen running down the insides of Tony’s muscular thighs.
"Jack, next time you suggest a foursome remind me to . . . Jack?" Jethro looked over his shoulder when his human back support fell away and discovered his lover was out like a light. He turned to share his amusement with his other two companions and found them asleep on the floor, curled around each other under the mound of blankets Jack had tossed there earlier.
"Why am I the only one still awake?" he asked the ceiling above him.
Easing away from Jack’s lax body, Jethro again handled the condom disposal detail. A quick trip to the bathroom took care of the semen drying on his abdomen and seeping from his hole. Semi-clean, he returned to bed, pulled a mumbling Jack into his arms and slipped into an exhaustive sleep that would, knowing his lover, be short-lived.
***Present Time***
"Agent Gibbs? You plan on going home sometime tonight?"
Jethro opened his eyes to the friendly face of Clive Jackson, the supervisor of the nightly maintenance crew. He straightened in his chair before nodding to the man. "Got some paperwork I have to take care of first, Clive."
"How ‘bout some coffee? The wife made a fresh pot right before I left for work."
A steaming thermos was offered to him, and Jethro didn’t hesitate one second. He collected an empty cup from his bottom desk drawer and grinned when it was filled to the brim. "Thanks, Clive."
Jethro kept his eye on Tony’s folder while he and Clive shared a moment savoring the strong brew. He knew he was stalling, but it never hurt to clear away the cobwebs with a hefty dose of java. Besides, there was only one man he was willing to go to for advice nowadays, and it paid to have all his ducks in a row ahead of time.
"Gotta move on, Agent Gibbs. If you need another cup of coffee, I’ll be upstairs cleaning the Director’s office."
Jethro waved good-bye to Clive before reaching for the phone and dialing a number he knew by heart. His chest and groin tightened when he heard the drowsy voice of his lover.
"’lo?"
"Did I wake you, Jack?" Jethro squinted at the clock on his computer and felt just the tiniest bit remorseful for having called so late.
"It’s nearly midnight, Jethro. What do you think?"
Jethro hunkered down in his chair and sent in spinning slowly to the right. "It’s nearly 2 a.m. here, and I’m still awake. Why aren’t you?"
"’Cause maybe I’m not a workaholic like some people we know," Jack gruffly replied.
"I’m trying to clear my desk of paperwork, if you’re the least bit interested, you bastard." Jethro tucked the phone beneath his ear and listened to his lover move around in bed. He could easily imagine the sleep-spiked hair, the heavy-lidded gaze, the crease-lined face that greeted him every time he woke in the arms of the handsome Air Force Colonel.
"Teal’c called earlier," Jack replied, clearly ignoring Jethro’s earlier sarcasm. "Said he wants to come over the next time you’re in town. Said you owed him a ‘Star Wars’ marathon?"
A very loud yawn made its way across the phone line.
"I did? When in the hell did I agree to that?" Jethro asked.
"Uh, remember him challenging you?"
"What?" Jethro rubbed his forehead and tried to recall what his lover was referring to? "When was that?"
"That second time we all got together," Jack replied. "Remember?"
Jethro shook his head in confusion. "I still don’t know what you’re talking about."
"Well, we were pretty drunk by then," Jack said with a chuckle.
"Now the beer I remember." Jethro would never in a million years forget the hangover that had kept him on his knees in Jack’s bathroom most of the following Sunday morning.
"Do you remember what we did with the beer?" Jack asked.
Suddenly the memory of that particular incident clicked into place. Jethro shook his head again. "Shit, now I remember."
Once the four of them had recovered from their romp in Jack’s bed, they had adjourned to the living room to watch a movie. Beer had been passed around and it wasn’t long before Tony was eyeing Jethro with pure wickedness glinting in his hazel-green orbs. Jethro knew he was in trouble when the younger man, who was cuddled next to Teal’c, started whispering in the large man’s ear. Teal’c had agreed to whatever it was Tony suggested and immediately headed to the kitchen for a fresh round of beer.
Upon his return, he had stopped directly in front of Jethro and challenged him to a drinking contest. The rules were simple. Jack would suck Jethro off while Tony sucked him off. The first one to make a noise while being sucked to completion had to drink an entire bottle of beer. Every subsequent noise would require the consumption of another beer.
The memory of Tony’s gifted mouth had Jethro accepting on the spot. No way in hell could Teal’c remain silent with those skilled lips attached to his monster dick. Had he remembered just how lethal his own lover’s mouth was, Jethro might not have agreed so readily. Seven beers drunk in rapid succession had permanently refreshed his memory.
"Don’t tell me he has all six movies?" Jethro gloomily asked his lover.
"Yep," Jack answered, his voice sounding quite gleeful. "Tony sent him the complete set on their first month anniversary."
"Ah hell."
"Guess it goes without saying that you won’t want any beer bought for the movie?"
"You’re an asshole, Jack, just in case you didn’t know it," Jethro replied.
His chair came full circle, and he pinned his gaze to the file folder on his desk. "Speaking of Tony, guess who applied for a position with NCIS?"
"You’re kidding, right? Tony? Our Tony?"
Jethro opened the file and lightly caressed the attached photo. "Yes. Our Tony."
Silence took hold of the conversation for at least a full minute. Jack was finally the first to speak.
"You plan on taking him on? Make him a member of your team?"
"I’m not sure I should." Jethro stared off into the distance. "Remember those rules I told you I live by?" he asked. "Remember the one about agents fraternizing with other agents? I’d say Tony and I have definitely been fraternizing."
Laughter teased his ear.
"Is that what they’re calling it nowadays? Fraternizing?"
"You’re no help." Jethro slapped his coffee cup down on the desk.
"What do you expect at this time of the night? Sigmund Freud?"
Jethro sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. A serious headache was taking shape, and he rubbed at his temples. "I really think he would be a good addition to my team."
"But? I’m hearing a definite but."
With a rueful grin, Jethro answered, "To be honest, I don’t think I could keep our relationship purely professional. Especially if the four of us decide to get together on a regular basis."
"Then don’t," Jack replied. "Toss out that damn rule of yours and enjoy working with the boy. Tony’s easy on the eyes and easy on the mind. To be honest, I’d love for the two of you to become friends. Not to mention it would make Teal’c one happy camper. He’s definitely smitten with the boy."
"Teal’c, smitten? Now that’s an image I just can’t wrap my brain around."
Listening to the laughter that greeted his statement, Jethro closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew what Jack wanted. His lover had done nothing to hide his interest in the Baltimore cop and frequently reminisced about the times they had gotten together with Tony and Teal’c. What Jack didn’t realize was the havoc Tony could possibly wreck upon their own relationship.
Jethro hated to admit it but, like Jack, he was seriously attracted to the gorgeous stranger, and could, if circumstances were different, easily fall in love with him.
But circumstances aren’t different, Jethro silently reprimanded himself. He was with Jack, had committed his heart to him in ways he had never done before. Hell, he’d cut the damn organ out of his chest before hurting Jack, and that’s exactly what would happen if Tony became a part of their lives.
"Are you saying you want this foursome thing to be a permanent deal?"
"Oh yeah," Jack agreed without hesitation. "That would be fucking fantastic, don’t you agree?"
"God, Jack. You’re unbelievable." Inhaling sharply, Jethro refused to give into the hunger that surged to life in his groin.
"Actually," Jack yawned, "I’m dead tired. Can we resume this conversation in the morning?"
"Sure." Jethro could see he was in for a sleepless night and had no doubt that he’d be the one yawning in the morning. How in the hell could he possibly sleep with thoughts of Tony and his incredible mouth rambling around in his head.
"Jack, I . . ."
"Yeah?"
Jethro struggled to say the words. "Jack, you know I . . . ."
"Yeah, I know. Same here, you bastard. Even more."
Suddenly the hunger was tempered by a swell of long buried emotions. Except for Shannon, Ducky and Nathan, no one had ever cared for him as much as Jack. It was still a bit overwhelming, but Jethro had no doubt the words would come with time.
Clearing his throat, he said, "Talk to you in the morning."
"Not before nine, okay?" Jack instructed. "Got to get my beauty sleep."
Jethro rolled his eyes. "Hate to tell you, Fly Boy, but it’s not working."
An indignant huff opposed his observation. "I so resent that comment," Jack replied.
For some reason his headache magically disappeared, and the vanishing pain allowed a small smile to break free. "Later, Jack."
"Much later. Night, babe."
Jethro hung up the phone and sat contemplating Tony’s file for nearly another thirty minutes. "God help us all," he muttered, and with a shake of his head, attached a post-it note to the folder. He wrote his name and the words ‘Approved for hire/Assign to my team’ across the yellow-colored square.
Finished, Jethro collected his jacket and left the office. As he exited the building and walked into the darkness, he swore he could hear the sound of Fate snickering behind him.
End of chapter 8
Introductions, Chapter 9 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Grabbing hold of Teal'c's chiseled buns, Tony squeezed hard. It wasn't that he didn't care for his dark-skinned lover but unlike Jack and Jethro, his man had yet to utter those three special words to him.
Introductions 9
By
Angelise
++++++
“Fuck!”
Tony clutched at Teal'c’s broad shoulders and arched backwards, rubbing his erection against the strange scars that crisscrossed his lover’s abdomen. “Teal'c, I can’t, I can’t! Not again, oh fuck, not again.”
His silent lover ignored his bogus protests. Teal'c knew exactly how much he could take and how insatiable a slut he was. They had been at it for three hours, both coming at least that many times; and even though his balls were completely depleted, his body still attempted to expel what it didn’t posses.
“Teal'c. The tank’s empt --- oh shit!”
Teeth attacked his tits, then his shoulders and lastly his throat. Tony struggled to escape the nearly unbearable torture while at the same time begging Teal'c to continue. “Yeah, that’s it. Bite me. Bite me hard.”
His dutiful companion obliged him and was soon feasting on the blood that welled up from a wound inflicted upon his left shoulder. Tony screamed out in pain while convulsing with pleasure. Teal'c’s roar assaulted his ears an instant later, followed by a gush of liquid heat searing a path deep inside his ass. ‘Fucking glorious,’ Tony thought as he slumped forward.
“Turn over.”
Barely able to lift his arm, Tony slapped at Teal'c’s bald head. “Later, Handsome. Gotta snatch a few z’s.”
“You will turn over now.”
Tony tried unsuccessfully to move his legs, but they refused to cooperate. He aimed a lopsided grin at Teal'c. “Guess you’ll have to do the honors,” he informed his impatient lover.
Teal'c wasted no time in doing so. He flipped Tony over on his stomach as if he weighed nothing. Once properly positioned, Tony spread his legs wide and groaned when voracious lips attacked his semen-oozing hole. For a brief moment Tony felt a major dose of discomfort. Teal'c had nipped him with his teeth but even that soreness was soon lost in the drowsy haze descending upon him.
It was nearly two in the morning when Tony woke. Forcing open his sleep-crusted eyes, he found himself face to face with Teal'c’s monster rod. He shook his head in amazement. Even in its relaxed state, his lover’s tool was still larger than any he’d seen before.
“Good thing my ass likes ‘em big,” Tony whispered. Blowing a kiss to his favorite sex toy, he untangled his arms and legs and slid off the bed. His nose immediately wrinkled in disgust once he got a whiff of his manly odor.
“Shower. Definitely time for a shower.”
Thirty minutes later Tony stepped out of the bathroom and went in search of the pizza they’d ordered earlier for supper. He finished off three pieces before liberating a beer from the fridge. “Wonder what our two compadres are up to?” he asked the industrial-sized appliance.
Finishing off his beer in four swallows, Tony tossed the bottle in the recycle bin, turned off all the lights and made his way down the hallway. It was a short trip to Jack’s bedroom. Once there, he pressed an ear to the door and shamelessly listened to the two men inside. What he heard had him grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Somebody is getting his ass fisted to the max.”
Finding the door unlocked, Tony peeked in. The vision before him was like taking an overdose of Viagara; it had his dick saluting in seconds flat. “Talk about the dead have risen.” Dismissing his insatiable erection, he stepped further into the room and hunkered down for the show.
“Tell me you want it, Jethro,” he heard Jack demand. “Tell me how much you want my fist up your ass.”
Gibbs was lying flat on his back with his legs pulled to his chest. He glared up at Jack. “You fucking bastard. You’ve got your fingers wrapped around my guts. Do you really need me to say it?”
Jack reached out and gripped Jethro’s cock. He tugged hard on it several times. “Yeah, you need to say it. I need to hear the words.”
Suddenly Gibbs’ features softened. He lifted a hand and palmed the side of Jack’s face. “I want it. Dammit, Jack, you know I want it.”
Closing his eyes, Jack shifted his grip and snagged Jethro’s balls. He crushed them against the towering shaft and groaned with delight when a hot flood of semen showered his face. Pistoning his fist faster in and out, he eagerly lapped up the evidence of his lover’s release. It wasn’t long before he was treated to another healthy dose of salty goodness.
“Jack, stop,” Gibbs pleaded. “I’m whipped. Please, babe, it’s too much.”
“Okay.” Jack nipped the bony knees that limply flopped down beside him. “Hang on. Gonna pull out.”
Tony heard somebody hiss with pain. He craned his neck and saw Jethro clutching Jack’s free hand. Having been on the receiving end of that vise-like grip, he empathized with Jack and the sore knuckles he would no doubt be nursing come tomorrow.
“Slow. Go slow,” Gibbs hoarsely instructed. “Want to feel every inch as you pull out.”
The minutes ticked by but finally Jack had both his hands free again. He quickly removed the plastic sleeve he wore when fisting and tossed it aside. Grabbing a wet washcloth, he carefully bathed Jethro’s red and swollen sphincter. Quiet whimpers and exhausted sighs welcomed his ministrations.
As soon as that was done, Jack turned Jethro over on his stomach and made him comfortable on the bed. He fussed over the man for a few minutes, situating pillows under his head and next to his chest so that he could hug them close. Satisfied with his handiwork, he then grabbed what looked like a bottle of aloe vera gel. If it was the same stuff Teal'c used on him after a hard night’s loving, Tony knew Jethro’s ass would soon be nice and numb. Not only that, but if Jack ran true to form, both he and his lover would be easing their aches in the hot tub tomorrow morning.
“Love you, you stubborn Jarhead,” Tony heard Jack whisper. He smiled as he watched his friend press his lips to the bare rump in front of him. His grin grew in size when he heard the sound of soft snoring that greeted Jack’s rare display of tenderness.
Another minute or two passed before Tony thought it was safe enough to speak. Clearing his throat, he said, “That was the damndest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Jack twisted around and pinned him with a disapproving glare. “What the hell are you doing here? The door was closed, you bozo.”
Tony rose to his feet and walked toward the bed. “Closed but not locked.” He carded his fingers through Jack’s short hair. “The rule is, and I quote, ‘If it’s locked, don’t knock.’” He took a step closer and brushed the head of his dick against the older man’s frowning mouth. “Watching you fist Jethro has got me all hot and bothered. Suck me, Jack. Please?”
Jack glanced over his shoulder, and Tony followed his gaze. He was somewhat surprised to find a pair of heavy-lidded eyes watching them. An almost imperceptible nod was directed at Jack. It was obviously all the permission he needed.
Sliding off the bed, Jack grunted when his arthritic knees hit the floor. “Where’s Teal'c?” he asked, taking possession of Tony’s hips.
“Sleeping.”
Conversation was derailed when, without warning, a startling inferno swallowed his erection. Tony grabbed hold of his companion’s ears and threw back his head. “Jack,” he choked past the scream his throat was attempting to smother.
“Hush,” Jack cautioned. Tilting his head to the side, he indicated the man in the bed. “Sleeping Beauty there needs his rest.”
Wide-eyed, Tony stuffed a fist in his mouth and nodded his understanding.
Jack patted his ass. “Good boy.”
Tony cut off the joking retort that rose to his lips. The hungry lips attacking his shaft were effectively negating all thoughts, which wasn’t bad, considering how damn good the brain below his waist was feeling.
“How ‘bout a little deep throat action, Junior?”
Nodding his head, Tony sank his teeth into the heel of one hand and held on for dear life. Jack was an expert at giving head and had brought him off more times than he could remember.
It was shortly after they’d agreed to become a foursome that Jack had caught him in the kitchen making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Tony had offered to share his food but Jack declined. Sitting him on the counter, the older man had then proceeded to show him exactly what kind of late night snack he craved. By the time his spent dick had slipped free of Jack’s talented mouth, Tony was a puddle of brainless goo.
From that moment on all he had to do was ask for a blowjob, and Jack was on him in a flash. More often than not, Jethro was present while Jack was sucking his brains out. The second Tony shot his load Jethro would step forward and nail his lover’s ass to the floor or bed or wherever they happened to be. If Teal'c was nearby Tony simply surrendered his mouth to his man’s massive rod. It was a win-win situation, no matter who was involved.
Tony forgot what he was thinking when, one by one, three fingers invaded his ass. They probed incessantly, searching for his prostate. One forceful nudge located the spongy gland, and Tony shuddered uncontrollably when his dick dry-heaved. Clumsily, he stroked Jack’s face and head while incoherently mumbling his apologies. Jack didn’t seem to mind that he was robbed of his reward. He guided Tony to the floor and folded him into his arms while sucking the air from his lungs.
Tony again fell asleep and next when he woke he found himself tucked between one snoring Jethro Gibbs and one awake but drowsy Jack O’Neill. Easing over on his side so that he faced Jack, he rubbed his cheek against that of his lover’s. “Hey,” he whispered, “has anyone ever told you what a killer mouth you’ve got?”
Jack yawned. “It’s a known fact. Don’t need to be told.”
Tony canted his hips forward and grinned when his dick cuddled up with its neighbor. Tucking his head beneath Jack’s chin, he glanced over the man’s shoulder and spied the framed photos sitting on the nearby nightstand. He immediately identified the first picture as that of Jack’s dead son. Having been cautioned by Jethro to never broach the subject of Charlie, Tony shifted his attention to the second photograph.
Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, “Who’s that?”
“Who’s who?” Jack mumbled in reply.
Tony liberated an arm and slid his hand down Jack’s flank. “That man in the picture. The blond with the glasses.” Tony frowned when his lover turned to stone. Jack was barely breathing he was holding himself so still. “Jack? You okay?” he anxiously inquired.
“He’s a, I mean, he was a friend,” Jack finally answered. “His name was Daniel.”
“He looks sexy as hell. Was he an old lover?” Tony looked closer at the picture. “Damn, I bet his kisses were a fucking delight. Were they, Jack? Did they set your heart on fire and your dick on alert?”
Jack rolled away. He remained motionless for a moment before leaving the bed.
Confused as hell, Tony watched him go. He was on the verge of following when Jethro slung an arm around his waist.
“Give it a rest, DiNozzo,” his new boss ordered.
Tony turned to face Jethro. Before he could utter a sound, his mouth was taken prisoner and held hostage until he forgot exactly what he’d been doing. He struggled to get closer so that he could offer Jethro more than his lips and found himself offering his passion to empty air. “Hello?”
Gibbs stopped at the door. “Go back to Teal'c,” he said without turning around. “Jack and I’ll see you guys in the morning.”
Tony waited for all of five seconds before following. “Go back to Teal'c? I don’t think so.”
He hid from sight when he found Jethro embracing Jack in the living room. Their conversation was hushed, and the only thing Tony could hear was Jack repeating over and over ‘I saw him. I saw Daniel.’
Tony frowned. What was it that Jack had seen that had him so upset?
Jethro moved slightly to the side, allowing Tony a clear look at Jack’s face. Suddenly he felt his heart twist with sorrow when the light from a nearby lamp illuminated the emotional agony on Jack’s face. Sweet Jesus, who in the hell was this Daniel?
Returning his attention to the two men before him, he watched as Jethro claimed Jack’s mouth. Normally their kissing was an aggressive competition for dominance, a prelude to fucking. Not this time. This time the kiss was tender, hell, almost gentle. It was as if Jethro was trying to exorcise whatever demons were haunting Jack.
Soon the need to join them was overwhelming, and Tony was actually taking a step in their direction when a meaty hand took possession of his neck. He yelped with surprise. “Hey, can’t you see I’m---” Before he could finish his sentence, he was jerked off his feet and into the arms of his growling lover.
“Come to bed, Tony DiNozzo,” Teal'c demanded. “I have recovered sufficiently from our previous encounter and am ready to fuck again.”
“So soon?” Tony yelped again when he was unceremoniously thrown over a broad shoulder. Sharp teeth branded his left buttcheek the second he was in place. Tony squirmed, not because he was trying to escape his lover’s tortuous mouth but because he wanted to catch one last glimpse of Jack and Jethro.
Jack had obviously had enough of kissing. He had hold of Jethro’s head and was forcing it downward. Jethro didn’t seem to have a problem with it; he was busy marking every inch of the naked chest before him. Shifting his attention away from the erotic act, Tony was caught by surprise when he glanced back at Jack. The earlier look of anguish on the man’s face had been replaced by what could only be described as love. Tony immediately checked to see if the same held true with Jethro and was relieved to discover the exact same emotion reflected on his face.
‘God, to be loved like that,’ Tony whispered just as he lost sight of the two men.
Grabbing hold of Teal'c’s chiseled buns, he squeezed hard. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for his dark-skinned lover but unlike Jack and Jethro, his man had yet to utter those three special words to him.
Not that he was expecting Teal'c to start whispering sweet nothings in his ear any time soon. Men wanted him for his ass, pure and simple. He hated it, but what could he do? He knew he wasn’t the type of guy to inspire feelings of deep, abiding love, the kind that lasted for all eternity. The feelings he, or to be more specific, his body inspired had nothing to do with the heart, and the failure of his last three relationships had driven home that truth in more ways than one. Fucking didn’t equate loving, no way, no how.
Hell, he’d bet this week’s paycheck that Teal'c was on the verge of kicking his sorry ass to the curb. Their weekends together used to be all about sex. From the moment he stepped off the plane to the moment he boarded it for the return flight home. Teal'c was undeniably the most enthusiastic, not to mention, inventive lover he’d ever been with. It didn’t matter where they were. Nook, cranny, closet, bathroom, office, or car -- if the space afforded them a measure of privacy, Teal'c was on him in a flash. Tony couldn’t even begin to count how many places they’d anointed with their manly seed.
Lately though, Teal'c’s interest in his ass had waned somewhat. Instead of dancing under the sheets the entire weekend, they now hung out with the old guys -- grilling steaks outside on the patio, playing poker until the wee hours of the morning or god forbid, watching mind-numbing games of Canadian hockey.
Oh yeah, the bloom was definitely off the rose.
Tony let out a wistful sigh. He really did like Teal'c, and not because of the man’s obvious assets. Teal'c was gentle with him, well as gentle as Bigfoot could be with a feisty squirrel. Not to mention, his man had post-coital cuddles down to a science, which was a good thing considering how hard and how often they fucked. Teal'c listened to him or better yet, patiently suffered his non-stop chatter. He never belittled him like his dad. He never complained about his addiction to old movies nor made fun of his bizarre ability to compare nearly every event of the day to some film he’d seen in the past.
Of course, his new boss didn’t exactly appreciate this unique talent, and the sore spot on the back of his head was proof of that fact.
Tony couldn’t help but grin. He could still see the look of shock on Jethro’s face when Teal'c had taken the older man to task for slapping him on the head. It had been about two months after he’d gone to work for NCIS. The four of them had been soaking in Jack’s hot tub discussing politics, and as usual he’d made some asinine comment about something someone had said. Before the words were out of his mouth, Jethro let him have it.
The slap on the head was over and done with in seconds and, without missing a beat, the heated conversation had resumed. Jethro was arguing with Jack about the pros and cons of Desert Storm when Teal'c came up behind him and shoved his head beneath the surface of the water.
Fascinated by the two arguing men, Tony had missed seeing his lover leave the hot tub. He was just as surprised as the others when Teal’c suddenly appeared behind Jethro and, without warning, dunked him. Jethro came up sputtering and was dunked three more times before he yielded to Teal'c’s demands and apologized to Tony.
Tony had thought his heart would burst with happiness. His man had come to his defense. Needless to say, he’d spent the remainder of that particular weekend expressing his gratitude in the only way he knew how, with his ass and with his mouth. Teal'c was one happy and exhausted camper by the time he left for home.
Familiar blunt fingers probed the opening of his ass, and the swift rush of pain reminded him of his previous thoughts.
Teal'c. Love. Forever.
Maybe it was time to take the bull by the horns or . . . maybe, the dick? Tony closed his eyes and concentrated. Yep, dick it was. There was no mistaking the steel girder knocking against his leg.
“Uh, Teal'c?” he nervously ventured. “Can I ask you a question?”
Tossed across the room, Tony landed squarely on the bed. He bounced several times before being nailed to the mattress by an unmovable weight. Thick lips immediately attached themselves to his left tit. The suction was so strong he thought for sure the nub would soon detach itself from his chest.
“Teal'c. Teal'c. Ease up, Big Boy.”
His plea was answered but then ignored when Teal'c shifted his mouth to his right nipple. The explosion of pain and pleasure that followed drove all thoughts from his mind. The majority of his brain cells were still lost in a haze of bliss when the heat of Teal'c’s whisper seared his lips.
“I am waiting.”
Forcing his eyes open, Tony lifted his head off the pillow and stared in confusion at the naked giant hovering over him. “Huh?”
Teal'c took hold of Tony’s legs and pinned them to his chest. An intense look of ownership took shape on his face when the object of his hunger came into view. “Have you forgotten the question you wished to ask me?”
Tony groaned at the sight of Teal'c licking his lips. He knew what was about to take place and frankly, he wasn’t sure he could survive another marathon round of rimming. His ass was beyond sore and screaming for major downtime.
“Please, Teal'c. No rimming. I know you love it, but my ass is whipped, hurting big time actually. Maybe a blowjob? You blowing me. Me blowing you? Is that okay? You can tie me to the bed, if you want. Or you can handcuff me and I’ll blow you on my knees. Just no more ri---”
His mouth was thoroughly shut down by an insatiable tongue intent on driving him insane. Oxygen deprivation was a chief consideration by the time Teal'c released him.
“You talk too much,” his lover rumbled disapprovingly. “Remember not to do so in the future.”
Tony held his silence for all of sixty seconds. It would have been less but he was distracted by the tender kisses measuring the length of his trembling thighs. “God, I love it when you do that. Melts me like butter on hot toast.”
“I do not understand the concept of a human melting. Please explain.”
Tony did better than that. By the time he was finished blowing his man, Teal'c was a large puddle of growling incoherency. Beyond exhausted and feeling like a limp noodle, Tony had no qualms in taking advantage of Teal'c’s weakened condition. He crawled on top of his favorite pillow and fell dead asleep.
When he woke, he was floating in a tub of glorious heat and only the strong arms circling his chest kept him from sinking below the water’s surface.
“Uh, Teal'c? Why are we in Jack’s tub?”
Tony wouldn’t admit it, but the moment he’d seen Jack’s deep, oversize tub, he’d gone out and bought a gallon of his favorite bubble bath. It was unmistakably built to accommodate two people, specifically two grown men as Tony had been delighted to discover. He loved bubble baths, and it didn’t bother him one iota when Jack stomped around the house grousing about how often he and Jethro had to make do with the small tub in the guest bathroom. First come, first serve was Tony’s motto and happily Teal'c agreed with him.
“Teal'c? You with me?” Tony asked.
Teal'c nipped his throat before answering. “Your behavior has angered me greatly, Tony DiNozzo,” the man announced without warning.
Tony bit off the groan of dismay that rose in his throat. ‘Great, another relationship bites the dust,’ he thought morosely. ‘Men love me for my ass. Deny them the pleasure, and it’s . . . Adios, Amigo. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.’
Mumbling one apology after another, Tony struggled against the arms holding him tight. “I’m sorry. Really, Big Guy, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be such a pussy. If you still want, you can feast on my hole. I won’t stop you.”
Teal'c’s silence deflated all of his hopes, and finally Tony gave up trying to escape. He sat motionless, staring at the bubbles bumping up against his soon-to-be ex-lover’s arms. God, he was so going to miss those brawny arms and the hugs they treated him to a regular basis. Maybe next time he’d learn to keep his whiney mouth shut and take it like a man.
“You don’t have to worry. I’ll think of something to tell the guys. It might be a little difficult convincing Jethro. I’ve been talking his ear off on a regular basis about you. He’s been real pa---”
“Stop talking,” Teal'c demanded.
The hand, more so than the harshly spoken words, stopped the nonsense flowing from his unchecked mouth. Tony nodded his understanding and breathed a sigh of relief when his lover’s hand moved back to its original position. From the sound of it, Teal'c was madder than hell. Tony had no trouble imagining the hand that had been at his mouth taking hold of his throat and throttling him into a permanent silence.
“I do not know who irritates me the most,” Teal'c insisted, “you or Daniel Jackson. You both talk too much. You both--”
“Daniel? You know Daniel?” Tony asked, his curiosity greatly outweighing his fear.
“We are not discussing Daniel Jackson,” his lover firmly stated. “We are discussing you, Tony DiNozzo.”
Using his foot, Teal'c flipped the lever that allowed water to empty from the tub. When a sufficient amount had drained, he moved his foot to the hot water tap and refilled the tub with much warmer water. Tony both appreciated and dreaded the replenished heat. Yes, it was soothing his abused rear-end, but it also meant, believe it or not, that Teal'c was in a chatty mood and had no plans on moving any time soon.
Not a good thing in his book.
“I already apologized,” Tony reminded his lover. “And I said you could rim me if you wanted. Just take it easy, okay? I know you like it rough and so do I, but it kinda takes a toll on my ass after a while and---”
Tony had no idea Teal'c could move so fast. One minute his lover was behind him, the next he was looming over him with an extremely fierce look on his face. Tony seriously considered asking for a time out. Maybe see how long he could hold his breath while hiding beneath a blanket of bubbles.
Teal'c had other ideas.
“I have no patience for those who withhold the truth from me,” the man stated. “If you are to be my mate, you must be honest and forthright. I will accept no less.”
Tony hissed with pain when Teal'c gently stroked his anus. His reaction caused the look on Teal'c’s face to harden into stone.
“I am the one who should offer words of apology,” Teal'c gravely acknowledged. “In my haste to claim you as my own, I forgot how fragile the members of your race are. I am a seasoned warrior, Tony DiNozzo. My stamina is legendary amongst the men and women of my people.”
Tony stared in disbelief at his lover. So surprised by Teal'c’s apology, he thought nothing of the suds-covered hand cupping his cheek, nor the strange phrasing his lover spouted with ease.
“It disturbs me greatly that I have caused you such pain.”
Teal'c concluded his confession with a kiss that decimated all thoughts of discomfort. Tony was more than willing to remain in lip-lock heaven with his lover for the rest of his stay. Unfortunately it seemed Teal'c was not quite through with him.
“From this day forward,” Teal'c continued, “you will remember you are my mate and as such, my equal. You will not bow to my needs if it causes you pain.”
Their positions were suddenly reversed, and this time it was Tony towering over Teal'c while straddling the larger man’s thighs. His lover wore the same fierce look on his face, and its meaning dawned on Tony like a blinding explosion of light.
Teal'c loved him, and the look on his face attested to the fact. It didn’t matter that those special three words hadn’t been whispered in his ear. The look was there, for all to see. It was the same look he’d seen earlier on Jack’s face and then on Jethro’s.
The look of love.
Holy shit!
His brain was so busy doing its own happy dance that Tony nearly missed what Teal'c said next.
“You have the right to say no,” his lover informed him. “Do you hear me, Tony DiNozzo?”
Tony threw his arms around Teal'c and hugged him for all he was worth. “How can I say no to you, Big Guy? You’re exactly what I want, what I need. What’s a little pain between mates?”
A threatening growl greeted his answer, and Tony rushed to reassure his exasperated lover. “Okay, okay. I hear ya. Just say no.”
“I am serious, Tony DiNozzo,” Teal'c warned. “Do not act in this manner again.”
Keeping one hand anchored to Teal'c’s neck, Tony leaned away from his lover. Minutes passed as he examined his man’s features, using his eyes, his fingers, his lips. When he reached Teal'c’s mouth, he halted his tactile exploration in order to whisper huskily, “Thank you. Thank you for not forcing me.”
One nod of his lover’s beautiful bald head acknowledged his gratitude. It was enough.
Scooting forward, Tony rubbed his dick against the growing shaft poking him in the stomach. He knew there was no way in hell he was going to get it up again but that didn’t mean the rest of him was down for the count.
“As your official mate, I say we retire to the boudoir and test that legendary stamina of yours. My ass may be complainin’ but my mouth sure ain’t.” Tony lifted a finger to his mouth and began to suggestively suck on it. “How ‘bout it, Teal’c? Wanna stick that rod of yours in ‘this’ hole?”
Tony jumped out of the tub and quickly dried off. His gums never stopped flapping the entire time, but he didn’t care. He was happy, delirious happy.
“Oh yeah. Fuck my mouth. Fuck it hard, fuck it deep. Fill it with your manly juices.” Tony opened the door and danced down the hallway. “And when you’re finished, I’m gonna blow your dick. Hell, I’m gonna blow your mind. Gonna blow that giant redwood until you scream for mercy.”
Tony dropped his towel in the hallway before entering their bedroom butt-naked. “And scream you will, oh mate of mine. You’re going to scream so loud, I bet they hear you in outer space. Oh yeah, you are so in for it toni---”
WHAP!
Stumbling toward the bed, Tony took a seat on the mattress and rubbed the back of his head. “What was that for?”
A formidable glare pinned him in place. Tony was pretty sure he should be somewhat worried but then he saw the unmistakable twinkle in Teal'c’s eyes, not to mention the drool-worthy physique that was as naked as a jaybird and erect as the Washington Memorial. Nope, he was so not worried.
“I have warned you about talking too much,” Teal'c announced. Moving to the side of the bed, he opened the plain metal case Tony had discovered in the nether regions of Jack’s closet.
As hard as he tried, Tony couldn’t see what particular item had hold of Teal'c’s interest. What he did see, specifically the evil smile on his lover’s face, caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand straight up. Maybe it was time to start worrying.
Keeping one hand behind his back, Teal'c held out a familiar set of handcuffs. “The time has come for you to learn the art of silence,” he told his wide-eyed mate.
Tony failed his first lesson miserably, but it didn’t seem to bother Teal'c. He was too busy yelling his head off.
That was, of course, until a chewed-up ball gag was shoved inside his mouth.
End of Chapter 9
End Notes:
Warning: Love does not go gently into the night! These are men, people, modern-day warriors, to be exact. Therefore, I will *occasionally* write their lovemaking somewhat on the rough side. If you like your men sweet and gentle while making love, don't come knocking on this chapter's door. You have been warned!
Introductions, Chapter 10 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Teal'c stood silently, examining the two sleeping men. The sight of his mate and his closest friend provoked feelings of possessiveness and protectiveness. It also incited his jealousy, a trait his wife never appreciated.
Jack O'Neill was his friend, his leader. He owed the man his loyalty, not to mention his life, and would willingly sacrifice the latter if need be. He would honor any request made by O'Neill, any request that did not involve the possession of his chosen mate. Tony was his, and the urge to completely claim the young Tauri's body and soul grew stronger and stronger as time passed.
Introductions 10
by
Angelise
Teal'c held Tony immobile while guiding O'Neill's head to his chest. His friend wisely took the hint and attacked his tits, biting and sucking until the pain became almost but not quite unbearable.
"That is enough, O'Neill." Teal'c forced the words through gritted teeth.
O'Neill gave one last swipe then transferred his talented mouth to that of his waiting lover's. The two men rolled back to their side of the bed and were soon sucking off each other. Teal'c attempted to finger-fuck O'Neill's ass but found his way blocked by a hand that refused to budge. "As you wish," he conceded.
Transferring his gaze to the body writhing beneath him, Teal'c noted that Tony was plucking at his own tits with one hand while jerking on his shaft with the other. He allowed the noncompliant behavior to continue for a full thirty seconds before speaking. "Have you forgotten I forbid you to touch yourself?" he reminded his mate.
An unrepentant smile was his only answer.
Shaking his head in exasperation, Teal'c pinned Tony's hands above his head. His lover obediently grabbed hold of the headboard and jerked his knees to his chest. Teal'c heeded his mate's request.
Once seated firmly inside Tony's ass, Teal'c began marking his nearly incoherent mate. Every time he thrust forward he bit Tony on the chest or neck. Every time he withdrew, he anointed the bite mark with a kiss. It was an activity both he and his young lover enjoyed and indulged in frequently.
Several minutes passed before Teal'c was satisfied with the markings he'd placed upon his mate. Cradling the back of Tony's head, he instructed, "It is your turn."
Tony surged off the mattress and slammed into him so hard that it nearly knocked the two of them off the bed. Teal'c gripped the lean hips frantically riding his manhood while taking pleasure in the sharp teeth measuring the entire span of his wide shoulders.
"Love ya, Handsome," Tony mumbled between licks and bites. "Love you so much, gonna eat you alive."
Teal'c endorsed the proposed plan with a single nod of his head. He thoroughly welcomed Tony's insatiable need to taste every inch of his body. It often led to other, more pleasurable, activities.
Taking hold of his mate's weeping organ, Teal'c purposefully stroked it hard. It had the desired effect. Muscles tightened around his own shaft, and the strong contraction caused him to lose control of the rhythm he had set for this specific union.
"It is time," he announced to whomever was listening.
Tony grasped his head and frantically kneaded its smooth contours before zeroing in on his mouth. "Oh God, Teal'c, yeah, yeah, it's time. Gonna, gonna, oh fuck, just kiss me, please."
Teal'c complied in such a manner that brought immediate reward. His abdomen and chest were coated with an explosive release of semen. One particularly thick strand landed on Tony's cheek, and Teal'c wasted no time in licking it off.
The abrasive swipe of his tongue, along with the pinching of swollen tits, produced another spastic tightening of muscles. It proved to be his downfall.
Claiming his mate's open mouth again, Teal'c gave into his body's demands. He pounded Tony into the mattress, his thrusts hard and deep and forceful enough to dislodge the two men on the opposite side of the bed. He answered their exclamations of surprise and complaints with a warning growl. By the time O'Neill and Gibbs had reclaimed their position on the mattress, Teal'c was too far gone and did not bother to observe their coupling as he normally would.
Copious amounts of semen seeped from his mate's sphincter once he withdrew. Gently turning Tony over on his stomach, he spread apart the pale globes of flesh and examined the wetly gleaming area. The need to savor the evidence of their union was strong, but Teal'c refused to heed its call. This was the third time he had claimed his mate in the last eight hours. He knew from past encounters that Tony would not welcome the touch of his mouth.
He did, however, carefully insert one finger inside the swollen portal and collect a sample. The flavor was strong, powerful, that of a warrior. It promptly aroused within him the need to fuck.
Teal'c eased Tony back over and straddled the younger man's lower torso. He knew his mate's ass would not tolerate another invasion, but as Tony constantly reminded him, there were others ways to satisfy his voracious hunger.
"I wish you to suck me off," he informed his mate.
Tony nodded his head. "Yep, you got it. Ooookey dokey. Blow the Big Guy. No problemo. Done deal. You bet'chum, Red Ryder. My mouth, your dick. Sure thing, Mr. Cleaver. Way to go, Daddy-O."
Teal'c rolled his eyes. His mate was babbling as incoherently as his friend lying next to him. O'Neill's mutterings were just as disjointed, and the look of frustration on Gibbs' face no doubt matched his own.
"Jack, come on, wake up. I'm hurting here," Gibbs insisted, pointing to his erection.
Jack patted his mate on the stomach before burying his face in his pillow and mumbling, "Roger. Affirmative. Mission confirmed. Target in sight."
Admitting defeat, Teal'c removed himself from the bed. It was obvious both Tony and O'Neill were not up to the task at this moment. Thankfully his mate would recover after a short rest. The same could not be said for his friend.
Teal'c collected the silk robe Tony had given him their last visit and slipped it on. He would soak for an hour or so in O'Neill's large tub and return once his mate was sufficiently recovered.
"You may sleep," he told Tony.
His eyes firmly closed, Tony instinctively sought the nearest warm body. It happened to be O'Neill's and Teal'c smiled at the way his mate draped himself across his friend's lax body.
"Excellent choice."
Teal'c stood silently, examining the two sleeping men. The sight of his mate and his closest friend provoked feelings of possessiveness and protectiveness. It also incited his jealousy, a trait his wife never appreciated.
Jack O'Neill was his friend, his leader. He owed the man his loyalty, not to mention his life, and would willingly sacrifice the latter if need be. He would honor any request made by O'Neill, any request that did not involve the possession of his chosen mate. Tony was his, and the urge to completely claim the young Tauri's body and soul grew stronger and stronger as time passed.
Frowning, Teal'c glanced at O'Neill, then Gibbs. He had no objection to the oral aspect of their sexual encounters or to what his friend labeled as ‘jerking off.' He was, however, opposed to his mate being claimed by either of the two men, and more often than not, deliberately manipulated their couplings. He would frequently shift position so that no one except himself could access his mate's hidden channel. Total possession was his right only, and the sooner he could place a permanent mark of ownership on Tony, the better.
"Teal'c."
Fingers brushing against his manhood shifted his focus, and Teal'c turned his gaze from Tony to the pair of glittering eyes blatantly examining his body.
Gibbs.
Like himself, Gibbs was a warrior with an immense appetite for sex. Regrettably O'Neill was years older than Tony and physically unable to satisfy his mate's hunger. The blue-eyed Tauri frequently turned to the youngest member of their group for satisfaction, and Teal'c was extremely proud of Tony's ability to fulfill those needs, using just his mouth and hands. His mate's sexual prowess would soon be as legendary as his own.
The fingers touching his manhood grew more daring, and Teal'c spread his legs to accommodate an exploration of his scrotum.
"Your touch is most welcome," Teal'c informed his companion. The words he spoke were the truth. Rarely did Gibbs approach him in bed. It was an omission that did not trouble him. He knew Gibbs preferred bedding O'Neill just as he preferred bedding Tony.
"Once again we have exhausted our mates. Do you wish for me to fuck you?" Teal'c indicated his hardening member. "I am willing, if you want me to do so."
While he was talking Gibbs had moved to his side of the bed and was in the process of adding his own mark to those scattered across Teal'c's inner right thigh. The offer to fuck obviously caught Gibbs by surprise, and Teal'c sucked in a sharp breath when the man's teeth grazed his sac.
Maintaining his silence, Gibbs turned to look back at O'Neill, and his stress-lined features softened. It provided Teal'c with his answer even before Gibbs spoke the actual words.
"Thanks, but no thanks."
"I understand your refusal, Jethro Gibbs." Teal'c waved a hand in O'Neill's direction. "He is your mate, and your ass belongs to him."
"Teal'c, it's not li---"
"There is no need to make amends. I am more than willing to jerk you off instead of fuck you." Teal'c stepped closer to the bed. Reaching down, he gripped the Tauri's weeping erection. "When I am finished, you will be able to sleep."
Ignoring the hoarse groan that welcomed his touch, Teal'c went to work on the granite-hard organ jutting straight out from Gibbs' groin. He thumbed the wide, mushroom-shaped head, easily spreading the moisture present until it thoroughly coated the pale flesh. Another groan and sharp snap of slim hips assured him his technique was acceptable.
Shifting his hand, Teal'c began to stroke from root to tip, pausing every second pass to squeeze the man's balls. "Your sac is heavy with seed. Shall I suck you, also?"
His question went unanswered. Instead, unsteady fingers attempted to capture his manhood but kept losing their grip. Gibbs finally gave up the attempt at reciprocation and moved his hands higher. Teal'c grunted when nails dug into a bite mark that Tony had given him on the way home from the airport. The minor discomfort caused Teal'c to tighten his grip, and Gibbs responded with curses.
"Shit!" he exclaimed hoarsely. "Damn it, Teal'c, you're . . . Fuck!"
The last expletive came as a result of Teal'c removing his hand and replacing it with his mouth. He swallowed the large shaft to the root and was somewhat startled when its head quickly nudged the back of his throat, causing him to choke. Rarely had he encountered a fellow warrior with an organ that matched his own enormous member.
He lifted his gaze to Gibbs' face and growled when he saw the light of challenge in the man's eyes. ‘I have pleasured men of his size before,' he reminded himself. ‘This Tauri shall yield his seed just as those before him have.'
Allowing a confident smile to stretch his lips, Teal'c swallowed even more of the thickening organ. His air supply was effectively cut off, but it did not worry him. Gibbs was thrashing wildly and would, no doubt, soon lose control.
The Tauri proved to be a worthy opponent, but Teal'c remained undaunted, sucking hard and fast. He even went as far as to tease the hefty organ with his teeth. It wasn't long before a loud bark of pleasure escaped Gibbs' tightly compressed lips, followed immediately by a flood of hot semen. The salty taste of the man's surrender filled his mouth and his nose, forcing him to swallow rapidly or else choke.
The convulsive action of his throat muscles was too much stimulation for his companion. Gibbs jerked violently, and it was all Teal'c could do to keep the man from sliding off the bed and hitting the floor below.
"O'Neill would be most unhappy if I allowed you to injure yourself. Come here."
Teal'c easily caught Gibbs by his hair and levered him back on the mattress. For some reason, the man could not control his arms and legs and struggled unsuccessfully to locate his mate. Teal'c finally took pity on the exhausted Tauri and positioned him next to O'Neill's body. O'Neill unconsciously registered Gibbs' presence and turned in his direction. This dislodged Tony, leaving him alone and shivering.
"Unacceptable," Teal'c decided.
Dismissing his previous decision to spend an hour soaking in O'Neill's tub, he removed his robe and climbed back in bed, humming with extreme satisfaction when Tony blanketed him with his body. He was getting very used to having his own human blanket and could not help but wonder if O'Neill felt the same way about Gibbs.
"This is a matter that requires meditation."
Tony chose that exact moment to nuzzle him behind the ear. The oral nudge was followed by a leisurely lick of the tongue and playful nip of the teeth. Close behind that was a sharp twist of a nipple, and Teal'c suddenly decided the need to meditate could wait until the following day or maybe even the day after.
Fucking first, meditation later.
Much later.
+++++++
Teal'c surveyed the wide path that led from the base of the mountain to the village above. He and O'Neill were returning from sending a message to General Hammond while Captain Carter and Jonas Quinn had gone ahead to meet with the community elders. It would take them approximately one hour to make it back to the village. Now was the time to speak to O'Neill regarding their mates.
"O'Neill," he announced, "I have decided you can no longer fuck Tony."
Teal'c knew his statement came without warning but in no way did it explain his friend's sudden loss of coordination.
"O'Neill!"
Lightening reflexes had him grabbing the collar of his friend's jacket, and he easily prevented the man from falling flat on his face. "Are you unharmed, O'Neill?" Teal'c handed over his friend's dislodged cap and waited patiently for an answer.
His cap placed back on his head, O'Neill re-shouldered his weapon then demanded grouchily, "Are you trying to kill me?"
Resuming their exploration of the area, Teal'c followed after his friend. "I did not realize my statement would cause you to misstep. Please accept my apologies, O'Neill."
Teal'c ignored the sarcastic snort aimed in his direction and focused his attention on the landscape. Even though P2X-438 was a planet allied with the Tauri, it would not do for them to be caught off guard. Several minutes passed before O'Neill stopped and turned to face him.
"What do you mean I can't fuck Tony?" he asked. "We're a foursome, for heaven's sake. Four men fucking each other. Did I miss something? Did you guys have a meeting and vote me out of the club?"
"No, there has not been a meeting." Teal'c rubbed the spot on his chest O'Neill was intent on indenting with his finger. "I have decided to follow the example of Jethro Gibbs."
O'Neill ripped off his cap and shoved it inside his jacket. "Huh? What's Jethro got to do with this?"
Teal'c captured the hand that was carding its fingers through hair that was growing increasingly gray. He turned back the cuff on the glove O'Neill wore and indicated the flat strip of gold encircling his wrist. "Jethro Gibbs has placed his mark upon you, proclaiming you as his mate. I will do the same with Tony as soon as we return home."
Gibbs had given O'Neill the wristband in celebration of their six month anniversary. O'Neill had protested the gift in his normal gruff, cantankerous manner, but Gibbs had ignored the protests and placed the simple piece of jewelry on his wrist.
Teal'c pursed his lips. If he remembered correctly, the minute the wristband had been placed on his friend's wrist, the two men had disappeared from sight. Neither one was seen again until the weekend was over. Tony had snickered about the strange way his boss was walking, and once that comment was explained, Teal'c himself had delivered the mandatory slap of correction to the back of his mate's head.
"This is what I have chosen for Tony to wear." Teal'c removed a curved strip of silver from the inside of his jacket and presented it for O'Neill's approval. "There was a master craftsman," he explained, "on the world we visited during our last mission. He fashioned this armband according to my specifications."
Teal'c took a step away from his friend and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. "I will formally announce my intentions the next time our mates return for a visit. I hope you and Jethro Gibbs will witness our union."
"Mate? Intentions? Witness your union?" O'Neill held the armband up for a closer inspection. "Teal'c, you are so not making any sense."
Teal'c reclaimed his prized possession and tucked it safely away. He then advanced upon his friend, forcing him out of the path of the wagon traveling toward them. "I am speaking plain English, O'Neill. It is you who does not understand." He nodded to the three youths on horseback accompanying the wagon. "When was the last time your ass was fucked by someone other than Jethro Gibbs?"
Teal'c prided himself on his use of Earth idioms, and he endeavored to draw upon them as often as possible. "The only dick that has been up your ass has been that of Jethro Gibbs. The same holds true for your mate. During the past two visits you and Jethro Gibbs have only fucked each other."
"That's not true," O'Neill loudly insisted. An interesting shade of red flooded the man's cheeks when one of the youths reined in his horse and stared over his shoulder at them. O'Neill waved him on.
Lowering his voice, he moved closer and gruffly reminded Teal'c of their last weekend together. "I seem to remember getting showered with your spunk last week, Mr. ‘I'm speaking plain English.' "
Teal'c dismissed O'Neill's retort with the lift of one eyebrow. "That is because you and I were . . . I believe the term is . . . six to nine? There was no fucking."
"It's sixty nine'ing, not six to nine." O'Neill scrambled over a giant fallen tree that blocked the way to the road. "Sucking, fucking. What's the difference?"
Teal'c snagged his friend by the scruff of his neck and turned him around. "There is a difference which I am certain you are quite aware of." Lowering his head until he was close enough to smell O'Neill's breath, he firmly stated, "You shall not fuck Tony again. Do you understand me, O'Neill?"
O'Neill frowned at him for a full fifteen seconds then let loose with a grin that Tony swore could melt a human's footwear off.
"Hell, Teal'c, admit it. You've been hot for Tony since day one," O'Neill said. "Me and Jethro were beginning to wonder if and when you'd ever get a clue."
The man waved a hand in the air, cutting off any response Teal'c might have expressed. "Yeah, yeah, you don't have to remind me. ALL of us have been hot for Tony since day one. He's so damn cute. Who could resist?"
Teal'c stared at his friend in utter bewilderment. Before he could give voice to his confusion, O'Neill was speaking again.
"I guess you could say Jethro's as possessive as you are, Big Guy. He laid the same demands on me, only he did it much earlier. In fact," O'Neill tapped a finger to the wristband he wore, "that's why he gave me this shiny gold trinket. As a reminder." The gray-haired Tauri's smile turned to one of extreme fondness as he glanced off into the distance. "As if I could forget who my ass belongs to."
Teal'c released his friend. "Does this mean we are no longer a foursome?"
O'Neill slapped Teal'c on the back. "Hell, no! We're still a foursome. A foursome made up of two committed couples. And if we happen to enjoy wrestling under the covers with each other on a routine basis, who's to complain? As long as we know who belongs to who."
O'Neill scratched his head. "Or is that whom belongs to whom?" He threw his hands up in the air before making a distinct turn back toward the path. "Whatever. It's me and Jethro, and you and Tony. A perfect combo, if you ask me."
Striding after his companion, Teal'c contemplated the information O'Neill had shared with him. His friend had not professed his love for Gibbs, but the evidence of his feelings was plain to see. He had observed the way O'Neill was with Daniel Jackson, and even though the two men never consummated their relationship, the feelings they had for each other had been apparent. O'Neill was now exhibiting the same behavior with Gibbs; therefore it only stood to reason his friend was, once again, in love.
Teal'c made visual contact with what appeared to be a unique hybrid of wolf and lion hiding in the bushes. He bared his teeth and allowed a small smile of superiority to slip free when the animal bolted. "If we are, as you claim," he said aside to O'Neill, "committed couples, then I feel it is our duty to inform our mates of our off-world activities."
"Why?"
Teal'c examined the dense undergrowth for additional wildlife. "I shall quote you, O'Neill . . . ‘Shit happens.' I believe it is only a matter of time before you incur another serious injury, and we are for---"
"Me?" O'Neill stopped and turned to face Teal'c. "Why me? Are you inferring I'm a trouble magnet? I believe that honor belonged to Daniel, thank you very much."
Teal'c nodded. "I agree, but that does not change the fact that you have visited the infirmary on more than one occasion, more so than I. Also, as I have discovered during these past few months, you are no longer as agile as you once were. Your joints, your stamina during sex---"
"Just one damn minute. Now you're saying I'm old?" O'Neill pinned Teal'c with a look that could have melted the naquada. "I'll have you know I passed my yearly physical with flying colors. In fact, just last week, when we all went to the gym together, *I* was the victor when it came to hand-to-hand combat in the ring. Me, not Jethro, not you and sure as hell, not Tony. So there."
Rubbing the spot on his chest O'Neill was determined to permanently dent, Teal'c conceded the smugly-spoken boast. He also ignored the fact that the only reason he, himself, had not been the victor was Tony's unconventional method of wrestling.
His man did not fight fair, and it had been extremely hard to coordinate offensive moves with an inquisitive hand exploring the crack in his ass. Consequently, it came as no surprise when he hit the mat sixty seconds after the match began.
The reason for his quick defeat was debated at length during the shower his mate insisted they share the second they got home. By the time Tony finished ‘dropping the soap', Teal'c had been more than willing to forgive each and every devious move used during the match.
Smiling slightly at the memory, Teal'c expounded on the day in question to his friend. "I remember that day precisely, O'Neill. Correct me if I am wrong, but did you not require an extensive soak in your heated tub, followed by a thorough massage and several doses of the medicine, Aleve?"
Invading his friend's personal space, Teal'c tenderly cupped the back of O'Neill's head and carded his fingers through the thinning strands of gray hair. "Like my mentor, Brata'c, you are a seasoned warrior," he firmly stated. "And as with Brata'c, the years, along with the countless missions you have embarked upon, have taken their toll on your health."
Teal'c stroked his thumb across a graze on O'Neill's left cheek. The minor injury was the result of a tree branch hitting him in the face. "I mean no disrespect, O'Neill, but in truth it is only a matter of time before you are gravely wounded. How will I explain your injuries to our mates? Tony and Gibbs are both intelligent men and will, no doubt, discern any falsehood I tell them."
O'Neill reached up and gripped Teal'c's arm. He stared hard at him for nearly a minute before turning his head and gently kissing the inner aspect of his wrist. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, okay?"
Not waiting for an answer, he lightly slapped Teal'c on the shoulder, then took a step back. "This discussion, as enlightening as it may be, is entirely pointless. Hammond's not gonna let us spill the beans; our boys don't have the proper security clearance."
Teal'c remained where he was even though his friend had resumed their walk. "I believe you are in error, O'Neill. Both our men work for your government. I am sure if they do not posses the proper clearance, General Hammond would be able to acquire it for them."
O'Neill stopped dead in his tracks and pounded the butt of his weapon with his fist. "Damn it, Teal'c. Can't we leave things the way they are? It's working just fine, if you ask me. Yeah, I realize Jethro's getting somewhat pissed about all the traveling back and forth. Which means, Big Guy, the two of us need to make an effort to fly to D.C. every now and then. Hey, how ‘bout next weekend? Don't know about you, but I'd really like to see that boat Jethro's building, not to mention, take a ride on that Harley Tony just bought."
O'Neill glanced over his shoulder. "Just think, the sun on your face, the wind in your ha---"
Teal'c raised an eyebrow.
Turning, O'Neill had the decency to wipe the smirk from his face. "Uh, the sun on your face, the wind on your skull, your rod riding close to your man's ass. Shit, I'm getting hard just thinking about it." He rubbed his crotch. "Definitely got to go see our boys as soon as we get back home."
Teal'c eyed the anatomy in question and saw no evidence of O'Neill's claim. "We are discussing our mates, not your dick. Focus, O'Neill."
His friend appeared to survey the forest to their right. Teal'c did not miss the slump of shoulders, nor the almost inaudible sigh. "It's gonna complicate things. You know that, right?"
Teal'c understood a great deal more than O'Neill suspected. He shared the same concerns. What if his request was denied? Would he follow through with his decision to inform Tony of his true identity? And if he did, could he deal with the consequences? What if he was imprisoned or worse, forced to leave the homeworld of his adopted family and mate? Would Tony understand? Would his young mate go through the Stargate with him if the Tauri demanded he leave and never return?
Withdrawing the silver cuff from his jacket, Teal'c examined the vow he'd had engraved in the metal. The words spoke of allegiance, honor and love. If Tony accepted his proposal, the two of them would forever be bonded as mates.
Teal'c replaced the cuff. His decision was made. Tony was his future, and, as O'Neill would say, ‘damn worth the risk.'
He walked toward his friend and stopped just short of joining him on the well-traveled road. "My decision is final. I refuse to lie to my mate, especially now that I desire to formalize our relationship. You may continue to lie to yours, but I will no longer do so. Tony deserves the truth, regardless of the consequences."
Teal'c ignored the stomped feet and mulish glare turned in his direction. "I shall request a private meeting with General Hammond following the mission debriefing. Is that agreeable with you?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." O'Neill pulled out his cap and slammed it back on his head. "Okay, we'll talk to Hammond, but don't you dare come crying to me when he turns down your request. I'm telling you here and now, you're suffering major delusions if you think he's gonna . . . ."
Teal'c followed after his companion. He turned a deaf ear to O'Neill's grumbling until they reached the next curve in the road. A brief detour into a nearby stand of saplings, followed by a firm, no nonsense kiss and an even firmer grasp of manhood silenced O'Neill for all of one hour. By the time the two of them reached the village an hour later, Teal'c was sporting a pair of swollen lips and a passion mark on his neck that peaked Jonas Quinn's curiosity to the extreme. Teal'c ignored the man's countless inquiries until the last day of the mission. He then ignored Captain Carter's inquiries regarding Jonas Quinn's black eye and cut lip.
Certain appearances spoke for themselves.
End of chapter 10
Disclaimer: This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
Introductions, Chapter 11 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Straightening his shoulders, Tony put on his best smile and followed Jethro out the door and down the hall to Autopsy. It was going to be all right. It had to be all right. He couldn't die, not now, not now that his life was absolutely fucking perfect.
Introductions 11
by
Angelise
Tony grabbed for the shower head and moaned softly when soap-slick hands slid down his belly and cupped his testicles. "Boss, it's my back that needs scrubbing."
"I'm getting there," Gibbs replied.
"Uh huh," Tony answered. "My poor back. The neglect it puts up with is downright pitiful."
"You want attention? I'll give you attention," Gibbs gruffly promised.
One thing about Jethro, a promise was a promise, and Tony nearly lost his hold on the shower head when a slow-traveling tongue took a meandering tour of his back. The trip started with his nicely scrubbed hole and ended with a bite to the nape of his neck. His dick welcomed the attention with a salute that was sure to leave a bruise on his lower abdomen.
"Not that I don't appreciate the attention to detail but," Tony said, "you do realize the hot water's about to run out?"
"Is that a problem?" Gibbs asked.
Tony debated their predicament for all of one second. Hell, no, it wasn't a problem. No problem at all.
"Ummm . . . I mean . . . God, Jethro . . . oh yeah . . . right there . . . right . . . oh . . Jesus Christ Superstar!"
Dissolving into a puddle of post orgasmic goo minutes later, Tony transferred his hands to the back of Jethro's neck and held on for dear life. His tenuous hold was threatened not only by the mouth mapping his left shoulder but also by the fingers tweaking his tits. "We're gonna be late for work if you keep that up," he mumbled to the lips searching for that magic spot right below his left ear.
An extremely hard slab of meat nudged him in the ass, but Tony ignored the blatant request. There was a time when the thought of Jethro fucking him would have had him bending over in three seconds flat. Not anymore. He was a kept man, Teal'c's man to be specific, and that meant his ass was off limits 24/7.
Twisting around he claimed Jethro's mouth in a deep, wet, breath-stealing kiss. "Love ya," he whispered before dropping to his knees and inhaling the man's insistent erection.
Once again, his brain went offline at the thought of blowing his superior but then gentle fingers carded through his hair. Their touch reminded him that the man he was deep-throating was more than his boss. Jethro Gibbs was his lover, one of three men who owned him heart and soul.
Tony relaxed his throat muscles and hummed. His reward was a mouth-full of liquid heaven that curled his toes and jump-started his libido. With a little help from his trusty right hand, Tony soon joined his lover on the shower floor and watched dazedly as another wasted batch of DiNozzo prodigies swirled down the drain.
"You never did get to my back," he reminded his shower companion.
"Sue me," Gibbs growled drowsily.
His lover's terse answer was softened with a heart-melting kiss, and Tony decided he'd forgo any legal pursuits. "What a way to start the day," he replied instead.
Indeed. His day was off to a great start and about to get better. Laid out on the bed in the master bedroom was a new set of clothes Gibbs had bought him last night. Hell, just the thought of wearing the Ermenegildo Zegna suit and Dolce Gabbana shirt was enough to make him downright giddy. Add to that a new pair of Gucci shoes and an Armani tie, and he was ready to declare this day absolutely perfect.
Inquisitive fingers wormed their way between his legs and snared his balls.
Oh yeah, life was perfect.
+++++++
"Boss, I mean, Jethro."
Tony clasped the older man on the shoulder and stopped him from exiting the showers. He waited for the door to shut completely behind McGee before seeking shelter in the arms that opened to him without hesitation.
"If that dust I inhaled was anthrax, I want you to call the guys." Tony plastered himself to the damp contours of Jethro's half-naked body and hugged hard. Knowing his rotten luck, this would be his last chance to embrace his lover.
"Call ‘em, Jethro," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell Teal'c and Jack how much I love them and how much I'll miss them if---"
One very demanding mouth silenced his request. For a moment Tony forgot everything and simply lost himself in the kiss devouring his oxygen supply.
"I'll call them, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied once the two of them broke for air. With a firm grip on Tony's arm, he guided him toward the door. "But be prepared for the consequences. That was a rookie mistake you made in there, and once Teal'c hears about it, your ass will be one unhappy customer."
"Ooh, a spanking. I can't wait." Waggling his eyebrows, Tony rubbed his butt. His humor died a quick death once he got a glimpse of Jethro's face. The man's arctic blue eyes were shadowed with concern, and he automatically reacted by seeking another hug.
"It's gonna be okay, Boss. I feel it in my gut. But just in case," he offered Jethro a quick kiss of reassurance. "Call Teal'c. I need to tell him something, something very important, okay?"
Gibbs gently tapped him on the back of the head in acknowledgement. Inhaling the clean soap scent that clung to Jethro's skin, Tony briefly closed his eyes in an attempt to memorize the moment.
"Jethro, I lo---"
Lips that were now tender and loving swallowed his words and held them hostage for countless seconds. Tony surrendered his heart to the kiss and refused to budge an inch until forcibly moved away.
"I'll make the call as soon as I can," Gibbs promised. He indicated the door with a nod of his head. "As soon as I can get to a phone, I'll make the call."
Straightening his shoulders, Tony put on his best smile and followed Jethro out the door and down the hall to Autopsy. It was going to be all right. It had to be all right. He couldn't die, not now, not now that his life was absolutely fucking perfect.
+++++++
Jethro slammed down the phone. He ignored the startled looks directed at him by his co-workers and stomped over to the door preventing him from going after Tony. He stared at the obstruction as if his gaze could literally melt the metal, and it wasn't until Ducky tugged on his arm that he abandoned the attempt.
"Were you able to reach Jack?" Mallard quietly inquired.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Jethro wearily ran a hand through his damp hair and shook his head. "He's not at home."
"Did you try his cell?"
Jethro bit back the sarcastic reply that rose to his lips. Now was not the time to piss off his best friend. "Yes. No answer."
"Call the base," Mallard suggested. "Maybe the boy's on some sort of training flight and that's the reason you can't reach him."
His threadbare patience immediately unraveled. "Don't you think I thought of that," Jethro snapped.
He shook off Ducky's hand and began pacing the entire length of the room. The longer he paced, the madder he got. Someone had threatened the life of their Tony, and the mere thought of greeting a day without DiNozzo's maddening smile was unacceptable.
Ducky's voice insinuated itself into his thoughts. "The evidence plainly indicated the presence of a second male, but the suspect kept insisting he was alone on that particular night."
Ducky was regaling Palmer and McGee with another one of his famous stories. "Jethro," the ME called to him, "do you remember the time when you and I were investigating the mur---"
"Ducky!"
Mallard stopped mid-sentence and stared at him.
"Get up to the lab and see what Abby's found," he brusquely instructed.
"Jethro, Abby is more than capable of determining---"
Jethro dropped his guard and allowed his friend a glimpse of the anguish he'd kept hidden from everyone else in the room. "Ducky, please."
Mallard was on his way to the door before Jethro finished speaking. He stopped just short of the exit and glanced over his shoulder. "Look in the Rolodex on my desk. I do believe you'll find a number that might just be of use to you."
Jethro was thumbing through the antiquated directory before the door to Autopsy had swooshed closed. He quickly located the card with Jack's name on it. There were three numbers listed -- Jack's home, his cell and an ‘in case of emergency' number he didn't recognize.
With a less-than steady hand, Jethro reached for the phone and punched in the number.
+++++++
"Look, I don't care if your CO is in a meeting with the President of the United States. Get him on the phone, now. This is an emergency, damn it."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jethro lowered his voice and cursed the bureaucratic red tape currently preventing him from reaching Jack. Security was ten times worse than it was before 9-11 and, although he secretly applauded the heightened measures, he would have willingly divulged every detail of every covert operation he'd been part of if it would have put him in touch with his lover.
"Sergeant Harriman, is it? This is not a request. An immediate member of Colonel Jack O'Neill's family has been taken to Bethesda Hospital in critical condition. It's imperative that I speak with him immediately."
"I am sorry, sir," the man answered. "Colonel O'Neill is unavailable at this moment. I will advise his commanding officer of the situation as soon as he returns from his meeting."
"You do that, Sergeant."
Jethro forced himself to let go of the phone and drop it back in its resting cradle. For a brief second he imagined he'd been squeezing the neck of one very infuriating Sergeant Harriman. A small smile materialized on his face, but it faded the minute he heard Abby's voice.
"SWAK? What the hell is a swak?"
++++++++
"Nurse Emma?"
"Yes, Tony?"
"Would it be an inconvenience if I asked you for a pen and paper?"
Tony readjusted the nasal cannula he was wearing. The damn thing was not only irritating his nose to the max, but it didn't seem to be working properly. He was still struggling for air despite the supplementary oxygen, which had to mean something was wrong with the equipment.
"Nurse Emma?"
Tony heaved a major sigh of frustration when the mere act of plumping the pillows behind his back proved too much for him. Caring hands assisted him to a sitting position and expertly plumped the three pillows propping him up. He thanked the masked woman in white with a grateful smile. "You're an angel, Nurse Emma. Thanks."
"You're welcome, Tony. Here's your pen and paper."
Tony took the offered items then glanced down the row of beds to his left. "How's Kate doing?"
"She's sleeping at the moment."
"I can see that, Nurse Emma," he grumbled. "What I can't see is how she's doing."
"Her condition is stable."
Clutching at the sheet, Tony fought back the panic that was threatening his control. He had to be strong, show no fear, be the good soldier.
"I'm sorry, Nurse Emma. Didn't mean to bite your head off." Forcing his hand to relax, he smoothed out the wrinkled sheet. He'd already caused enough trouble for one day. No use adding ‘sourpuss patient' to the list of complaints.
Closing his eyes, he read himself the riot act. Jethro was right. He'd performed like a damn rookie, snatching the letter and opening it without a thought to the possibility of danger. He'd exposed his co-workers, his lover, to a lethal substance all because his insecure nature dictated he act the fool. When was he going to learn that he didn't need to be the center of attention in order to be accepted by his peers?
Turning his head, he rubbed his cheek against the pillow, wishing for the thousandth time that it was the smooth contours of a male chest and not the pillow.
A small smile lifted the corner of his mouth at the thought of his mate's more than manly chest. Teal'c had seen straight through his clownish behavior to the insecure man hiding underneath and had told him so soon after they met.
‘Stop this nonsense, Anthony DiNozzo,' Teal'c had instructed in that curt tone that did strange things to Tony's heart. ‘I am your friend and your lover because I have determined you are a man of honor. You do not need to prove yourself to me with these frequent acts of inappropriate behavior. More to the point, this type of behavior is annoying. Stop annoying me.'
Tony grinned. He did so love a disgruntled Teal'c. Loved snuggling up to his grumpy, scowling bear of a lover and kissing him until he was in a better mood. Of course, his man was one tough cookie, and it took quite a lot of kisses to sweeten his disposition.
His grin widened. No wonder he loved annoying Teal'c. Kissing those big, fat lips was one of his favorite pastimes. That and riding Teal'c's monster size---
His love-silly grin turned into a despairing frown. What if there were no more chances for kisses? No more loving?
Tony clutched at his chest. Whether it was the virus or the thought of dying without seeing Teal'c that had him extremely short-winded, he couldn't tell. He just knew he couldn't breathe.
"Nurse Emma?" he croaked.
Within seconds Emma was at his side. She immediately assisted him to an upright position. She then checked the flowmeter controlling his oxygen, and Tony knew the instant she increased the flow. Leaning back against his increasing pile of pillows, he once again treated her to a grateful, albeit wobbly, smile. "Thanks."
"You're welcome. Need anything else?"
One triple-decker hug would be nice, Tony thought with a longing so intense it had him trembling all over. ‘Guys, I need you,' he silently prayed. ‘Come quick.'
"Tony? Do you need anything else," Emma repeated.
"I'm good," he answered. "Catch ya later."
Pen in hand, Tony waited until Emma had resumed her station outside the isolation chamber. He spared another glance at Kate then focused his thoughts on what he needed to say to his three lovers. Letters to Jack and Jethro were quickly penned and placed to the side. The words he needed to say to Teal'c didn't come as easily, and it was several minutes before he put pen to paper.
Teal'c,
I know you're not going to believe this, but I'm actually at a loss for words. Considering my vast knowledge of movies and television, you'd think I'd know exactly what to say. Not this time. My brain refuses to supply me with one scene or quote that would explain exactly how I feel about you. Guess you'll have to be satisfied with the dull, plain Jane words that have been whispered by every lover since the dawn of time.
I love you.
At first it was lust, Big Guy, pure and simple. You were exactly what the doctor ordered. Big as a barn and hung like nobody's business. My fantasy dream lover in the flesh. Throw in a heaping dose of Jack and Jethro, and I was one happy slut. Sex, sex and more sex.
But then everything changed. I changed.
Suddenly it wasn't all about fucking. Suddenly I didn't care if my ass got nailed to the floor or not. Spending time with you -- serious ‘get to know one another' time -- that was what was important. At first it was strange, even somewhat difficult. I've never been in a relationship like that. All my previous lovers could have cared less about what was above the waistline. They wanted me for one thing and one thing only.
And yes, I do realize sex is what brought us together in the first place but luckily you looked above the waistline, saw something in me that nobody else did.
Teal'c, I know I'm not the easiest person to get close to, and believe it or not, there aren't that many people who have the patience to do so. Thank heaven you have the patience of not one but a whole league of saints. You hung in there/kept me around when most would have kicked my wimpy ass to the curb. And because of that alone, you're the one I'll miss the most if this virus proves fatal.
It goes without saying that I care deeply for Jack and Jethro, but I ***LOVE*** you, Teal'c. You're my man, the keeper of my heart, the owner of my soul. When you called me your mate, well, let's just say that was the happiest day of my life. Like I said, nobody's ever wanted me for me. They've wanted my body but not my heart. Wanted the sex but not the commitment. You're different. Yes, you love my ass, but first and foremost, you love me -- Tony the person, not Tony the boy-toy. Do you have any idea how important that is to me?
It's so important that I need to ask you this next question------
Teal'c, if I somehow make it out of here, would you do me the honor of committing to our relationship? I want the world to know I belong to you and vice versa. Yes, I still want to be with Jack and Jethro -- who wouldn't? Those guys are not only funny as hell but they're great in bed, as you well know. I really hope you'll let us stay together as a foursome, but hey, if that's something you can't agree to, then so be it. It'll be hard, but I'll handle it. What I can't handle is not having you around.
Teal'c, I love you. I need you. I'd like very much to spend the rest of my life with you.
It's that simple.
Tony was in the process of signing his name when a chest-crushing spell of coughing hit him. By the time Dr. Pitt and Emma reached him, he was turning blue from the lack of oxygen. The medical duo sprung into action and no one, not even Kate, who suddenly appeared at his bedside, noticed the blood splattered sheets of paper that drifted to the floor.
+++++++
"Are you deaf? What part of ‘family emergency' don't you understand?"
Ignoring his green-tinged passenger, Jethro executed a sudden change of lanes. "Call your superior. Hell, call the SecDef if you want. I don't care as long as you find me someone who knows how to put me in touch with Colonel Jack O'Neill!"
"Gibbs, truck," Cassie Yates warned in a voice tight with fear.
Jethro paid absolutely no attention to the 18-wheeler heading straight for him. He instead punched in another number on his cellphone.
"Gibbs, TRUCK!"
Jethro swerved out of the oncoming lane of traffic with inches to spare. Glancing to the side, he spared a tense smile for the woman clutching at her seatbelt as if it were a lifeline. Cassie had guts, he'd give her that. Most people, Tony included, would be upchucking their lunch after the stunt he'd just pulled.
Tony.
An angry growl slipped out at the thought of his young lover.
"Get me the Director," he instructed the NCIS operator who answered his call. Swerving to miss a school bus loaded with kids, Jethro cut off a slow-moving Hummer. He answered the blaring protest with a one finger salute.
"Get out of the fast lane, you idiot," he muttered.
"I hope you're not referring to me," Morrow's voice came over the line.
"Well, that depends." Jethro watched with satisfaction as the speedometer's needle again inched toward the 85 mph mark. "Tom, I'm calling in that debt you owe me."
Morrow didn't answer immediately, and Jethro waited out the silence by barreling down a one-way street. "Tom?"
"What do you need, Jethro?"
"I need you to cut through some major red tape. Specifically, I need you to find me someone, someone very important to my well-being," Jethro answered.
Not many people knew the history that existed between himself and Morrow. The two of them went back a very long way and had even seen action together once or twice during Desert Storm. His old friend was just as privy to his secrets as he was to Tom's. They both knew where the bodies were buried, and knew what it would take to have them dug up.
The Lowell Pharmaceutical building came into view. "Do you understand, Tom? It's imperative I speak to this person ASAP."
"Your well-being?" Morrow asked. "Are you telling me you finally found a man brave enough to put up with your shit?"
Jack's face instantly came to mind along with those of Tony and Teal'c's. "Yes, I have. And I'm recommending the same to you, old friend."
There was a moment of shared silence before Morrow's voice came back on the line.
"What's his name?"
Jethro flashed his badge at the security booth and floored the gas pedal the second the guard gave him the okay to enter. "Jack O'Neill. Colonel Jack O'Neill. He's with the Air Force."
"Air Force? I believe I know the perfect man for the job," Morrow said.
"Now, Jethro," his friend continued, "I have to tell you this fellow's not exactly on good terms with our government. In fact, I'm pretty sure of it. Last time I spoke to H he told me he was maintaining a seriously low profile. Do I need to tell you what that means?"
"Tom." Jethro forced his jaw to relax. His teeth were hurting like hell from keeping his mouth firmly shut. Morrow was his friend, not to mention someone he could trust. Provoking him to anger would not help the situation. "Tom, can you help me or not?" Jethro asked.
Morrow's exasperated sigh could be clearly heard. "Patience, Jethro. I'll have something for you in an hour."
Pulling to a stop, Jethro snapped his cell closed without bothering to say goodbye. "An hour? Tony might not have an hour," he whispered.
Jethro checked his gun and nodded with satisfaction when he saw Cassie doing the same thing. Nothing and no one was going to prevent him from getting the antidote. Hell, he'd shoot Hannah Lowell if it meant saving Tony.
Holstering his weapon, he turned to look at his companion. Cassie was dressed like a hooker, and her appearance would, no doubt, cause a disturbance. Good. He was in the mood to disturb both verbally and physically.
Jethro threw open the car door.
"Let's roll."
+++++++
Tony thanked his Marine escort with a quick kiss and a rib-crushing hug. "Thanks for walking me down the aisle, Boss."
"You're welcome, DiNozzo. Now, shut up and get married."
Jethro stepped back, allowing Tony his first good look at his life partner-to-be.
Flanked by Jack on one side, Teal'c stood tall and proud, his lust-inspiring physique clothed in a simple linen robe the color of sand.
Tony fingered the collar of his own robe. His attire was an exact copy of Teal'c's with one exception. Leaning forward, he rather audaciously announced in a hushed voice, "I'm butt-naked under this. Not to mention, primed and ready."
The tiniest of smiles curved his lover's generous lips. "As am I," Teal'c solemnly answered.
"Primed and ready?" Tony questioned as he nibbled on the lobe of one delectable ear. "Or naked?"
Teal'c gently pushed Tony away. "Both," he said, and this time his smile was more than just a smile. It was a bona fide smirk.
"Why you---" Tony snapped his mouth shut when his brain finally registered the subtle coughing coming from his best man. He acknowledged Jethro's admonishment with a slight nod of his head. "Behave. I hear ya, Boss. Behave."
As the ceremony commenced he tried as hard as he could to resist temptation. Unfortunately his insatiable curiosity got the best of him.
"I gotta look. I just got to."
Unaware that he had adopted one of his lover's mannerisms, Tony quirked one eyebrow while thoroughly checking out the fit of Teal'c's robe. He nearly choked when his man canted his hips forward and the material of the robe molded itself to his groin.
"Whoa, Nellie. Talk about ready!"
Aroused beyond belief, Tony was more than willing to present the DiNozzo family jewels in the same manner. In fac, he was about to do so when he caught sight of the minister's disapproving frown. Mumbling a somewhat contrite apology, he locked eyes with Teal'c and didn't move a muscle until he heard a familiar sniffle. He spared Abby a small smile before returning his attention to the vows Teal'c was declaring to all present.
"I, Teal'c, hereby claim Anthony DiNozzo as my mate for all eternity. I have deemed him worthy of my affection and pledge to him my faithfulness. This ring I place upon his finger binds my soul to his and will forever be a symbol of my love and commitment."
Tony stood trembling as Teal'c took possession of his left hand and slipped a simple band of silver upon his finger. For some unknown reason, he couldn't take his eyes off the ring, and the longer he stared at it, the more overwhelmed he felt.
His heart quickly took notice of his mental agitation. It started pounding like a jackhammer, beating so hard and so fast that Tony actually thought he was dying of a heart attack. He struggled to say his vows but couldn't draw enough breath to do so.
Clutching his chest, he fell to the floor. His vision blurred to the point of blindness, and soon all he could do was cling to the words being whispered in his ear.
"Tony, listen to me."
Tony moaned in defeat. His beautiful dream had evaporated into nothingness. There was no Teal'c, no church and from the way his chest felt at the moment there would never be a commitment ceremony. He was going down for the third count and not even Jethro could save him. The consequences of his idiotic behavior had finally caught up with him.
"You listening?"
The words were muffled and hard to understand, but the unrelenting grip of his hand insisted he better damn well answer.
"I'm lis . . . ." Tony gasped for air. He had to respond. The voice belonged to Jethro, and nobody in their right mind ignored Jethro Gibbs. He had to answer. "I'm listening, Boss."
"You will not die, you got that?"
The pain in his chest eased as his lungs and heart yielded to the inevitable. He heard the sound of a door opening, and suddenly there was a bright light illuminating the darkness. His grandfather's voice called to him, ‘Time to go, Bucko.'
The stinging slap of a hand to his forehead momentarily halted his exit. Jethro again. Didn't the man realize it was time to go?
The breath of love caressed his cheek. "I said, you . . . will not . . . die."
Tony wrestled with the voice demanding he follow the light and the voice insisting it wasn't his time to die. Who should he obey? Jethro was pretty adamant but damn it, he was tired. Maybe his grandfather was right. Maybe it was time to go.
Tony opened his eyes so that he could look at his boss one last time. The sight that greeted him wasn't that of Jethro's face nor the isolation chamber. What he saw was a vision of his three lovers standing beside a grave, his grave. The look of grief marring the features of his beloved Teal'c was enough to extinguish the bright light beckoning him onward.
Sucking in a breath, Tony squeezed Jethro's hand and uttered hoarsely, "I got ya, Boss."
"Good."
The hand gripping his relaxed. A second later it was gone and in its place was a cellphone. Jethro continued to speak to him, but the words made absolutely no sense.
Get his number changed? Tony thought. What in the world was Jethro talking about? He couldn't change his number, not without talking to Teal'c first. Teal'c wouldn't like it. Not to mention, he so didn't have the strength to deal with a grouchy Teal'c.
And who in God's name was Spanky? The only Spanky he knew was from the ‘Little Rascals.' Why would somebody be using his phone to call Spanky?
Tony closed his eyes. His head was hurting like the dickens. His head, his chest, hell, his entire body hurt for that matter, like he'd been run over by an 18-wheeler. Somebody had better written down the number of that truck or else they'd be answering to one very pissed off Anthony DiNozzo.
Number. Oh yeah. Phone number. Teal'c.
He searched blindly for his call button. If he could convince his lungs to cooperate, maybe, just maybe he could sweet talk Nurse Emma into dialing Teal'c's phone number.
"Nurse . . . Nurse Emma, would you---"
Exhaustion overcame him and the request died on his lips.
+++++++
Jethro shook hands with the man standing beside him. His new best friend had the look of a weasel and no doubt was just as trustworthy. None of that mattered. Harry Maybourne had accomplished the impossible -- he'd cut through the bullshit and located his missing lover. That alone was enough to silence the qualms Jethro had about the man.
"Are you sure you and Jack are old friends?" he asked after glancing toward the doors that led to the Intensive Care Unit. "I don't recall him ever mentioning your name."
Harry took a sip of coffee and smiled. Jethro immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
"Jack and I go way back, Gibbs," his companion answered. "Of course, he'll deny it. Has to. Top secret and all that."
Rolling his eyes, Jethro threw his empty coffee cup in the garbage with a little more force than necessary. Maybourne's explanation of the Stargate Project had given him one hell of a headache. Couple that with his continuing concern for Tony, and it was no wonder his brain was demanding a fresh dose of caffeine.
Jethro eyed the half-filled coffee pot tucked in the far left corner of the ICU waiting room. No doubt the stuff would taste like shoe leather. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he decided the pain of a headache was less aggravation than the taste of burnt coffee.
Grabbing a chair, he turned it around and straddled it backwards. "Tell me again about SG-1," he insisted.
The pounding of running feet put a halt to Maybourne's answer. The man hadn't even opened his mouth when Jack and Teal'c came into view. Jethro drank in the sight of his lover, but the relief at seeing him didn't last long. It was quickly replaced with anger.
Yes, he understood the secrecy. He understood the subterfuge. After all he was a soldier, a son of Uncle Sam. There were secrets he'd take to his grave. Not to mention, he'd done the same to Shannon before they were married. Gone on missions, leaving her in the dark for months at a time.
But now that the shoe was on the other foot, his perception of the matter was significantly different. Tony had nearly died and what could have been his last request would more than likely have gone unfulfilled. All because of an oath of allegiance to a government that would, without a doubt, lock up their asses if news of their poly relationship became public.
Maybe it was time to rethink their future.
He grabbed Jack by the arm and didn't loosen his grip one iota when his lover verbally protested the hold.
"Uh, Jethro . . . Ow!"
Jack slapped at his hand, but Jethro ignored him. "You and I need to talk," he insisted through clenched teeth. "But right now," he indicated the man standing with his back to them, "right now there's someone I want you to meet or should I say, meet again?"
Grimacing with pain, Jack tried a second time to free his arm. "Jethro, the only person I'm interested in meeting is our bo---"
"O'Neill," Teal'c interrupted. "Tony is my mate. I should be the first to visit him."
The argument of who went first was derailed when Jethro's companion announced his presence.
"Hello, Jack, Teal'c," Maybourne enthused. "Long time no see."
End of chapter 11
Disclaimer: This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that ownthese charactersand is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
Introductions, Chapter 12 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
"I'm sorry," Jack forced through clenched teeth.
Gibbs came to a dead stop but didn't turn around. Jack waited a full sixty seconds before touching him on the arm. "Did you hear me? I said I'm sorry."
Introductions 12
by
Angelise
+++++++
"Glaring at me, Jack, is a waste of time," Maybourne said. "I did this for you."
Jack crushed the empty coffee cup he held in his hand and grinned when Harry took an involuntary step back. His grin faded when he glanced over Maybourne's shoulder and viewed the vacant room behind him. They were standing alone in the hospital's med-surg waiting area, a fact that spoke volumes to at least one of them, and it wasn't ole Harry.
"What do you mean, you did this for me?" he inquired. "I don't recall asking you for any favors."
Maybourne warily offered him a fresh cup of coffee. Jack took the steaming cup and returned to the spot he'd claimed once Tony was moved out of ICU and into a private room. Gazing out the windows, he looked down at the small meditation garden below. The sight of the beautifully landscaped area, along with its numerous benches and fountain, did nothing to calm his nerves.
Jethro was mad as hell at him, not to mention their boy lay sick as a dog not a hundred feet from where he stood. Teal'c was definitely not a happy camper and had wasted no time in using that damn eyebrow of his to say, ‘I told you so.'
Jack hated that eyebrow.
And now . . . he looked to the side . . . to top it all off, he'd been left to deal with Maybourne. His day was officially fucked.
Placing his coffee cup on the windowsill, Jack ran a hand through his hair and once again wished for a beer and a weapon. The beer would take the edge off and the weapon, well, he'd holster the weapon for now. No doubt shooting Maybourne was against some sort of hospital policy, which to his way of thinking was a damn shame.
The most annoying voice on Planet Earth interrupted his thoughts.
"Jack, I'm not blind," Maybourne said. "I can tell the lay of the land." The man reached out and patted him on the shoulder. "Nice catch."
Screw hospital policy.
Jack turned sharply on his heel while at the same time reaching for the weapon he didn't possess. When his hand came up empty he used it instead to poke Maybourne in the chest.
"You know absolutely nothing," he corrected. "And if I was you, which thank God I'm not, I'd be crawling back into whatever hole you slithered out of."
"Now, now," Maybourne replied in that condescending tone that made Jack's trigger finger itch, "is that any way to talk to the one who reunited you with your . . . shall I say . . . boyfriend?"
"Ow, ow, ow!"
Jack vigorously shook the hand used to dent Maybourne's jaw. He normally wasn't a violent man but right now -- he glared at the calculating smile spreading across Maybourne's ugly mug -- right now he could grab that meddlesome weasel off the floor, toss him through the window and not think twice about it.
He glanced at the window and mentally calculated the distance to the ground. It wasn't far enough.
"Harry, if you breathe one word of this . . . ."
That would certainly be the icing on the cake, Jack thought, his and Jethro's relationship made public knowledge.
He rested his forehead against the cool glass and sighed. It wasn't that he was afraid of being officially outed to Uncle Sam; he just didn't feel up to dealing with the fallout, especially now. He was too old, too tired and too set in his ways.
Frowning, Jack closed his eyes. As everyone knew he was a simple kind of guy. Give him a lake, a fishing pole and a cooler of ice-cold beer, and life was perfect. Add a certain trio to the picture, and it was downright heaven on earth.
Chaos and confusion on the other hand drove him absolutely nuts. That's why he could never stay for very long in Daniel's lab. The clutter of books and papers, along with the scattered boxes of artifacts and whatnots disturbed his sense of orderliness in ways his friend never understood.
Tucking thoughts of Daniel back inside the corner of his heart reserved for unrequited hopes and dreams, Jack turned and faced Maybourne. It was going to kill him to say what he was going to say, but he had to do it. This time it wasn't all about Jack O'Neill. There were his lovers to consider.
"Harry, I'm not sure why you're here, but . . . ."
Rubbing his jaw, Maybourne regained his feet. "An old friend called in a favor," he replied.
Jack waved off the explanation. "It doesn't matter. The damage is done. You spilled the beans, and I'm the one left holding the bag. General Hammond is going to have a field day."
Maybourne opened his mouth to speak but shut it quickly when hit with the formidable O'Neill glare.
"Don't talk," Jack instructed. "Don't say another word. You've said enough already."
Finishing off his now tepid coffee, he continued, "Harry, I'm not going to confirm nor deny what you think is going on here. It's none of your damn business. And if you breathe a word of this to your cronies, well, just remember Teal'c is on my side."
Jack got right up in Maybourne's face. "We both know how he feels about you."
"Jack---"
Once again, he cut Maybourne off. "What part of ‘don't talk' do you *not* understand?"
Stalling for just a few seconds, Jack took the time to toss his empty coffee cup in the trash. "I can't believe I'm going to say this," he muttered.
Squaring his shoulders, he met Maybourne's inquisitive look head on. "Thanks, Harry. Thanks for helping Jethro."
The smile that screamed ‘I've got you now, my pretty' was blinding, and Jack had to forcibly relax his fist.
"Jack, Jack," Maybourne clasped him on the arm. "No thanks are necessary. You'd do the same for me, I'm sure."
Jack swallowed down the bile that rose in the back of his throat. "Yeah, right."
Maybourne patted him on the back before stepping away and gathering up his jacket. "That's good to hear, Jack. It's nice to know I have friends in high places."
"Harry," Jack growled in warning.
A business card was tucked inside his shirt pocket.
"You can reach me here if you or your . . . ‘friend' needs me again." Maybourne stopped just short of the waiting room's exit, his smug grin disappearing momentarily. "Good luck with everything, Jack." Eye contact was made and held. "Seriously. Good luck. Gibbs seems to be one of the good guys. Don't let him get away like you did Dr. Jackson."
His forehead creased in confusion, Jack watched his old adversary leave the room. Had Harry known about him and Daniel? Had his feelings been that obvious?
He shook his head. God, he hated unanswered questions.
Glancing back at the empty doorway, he quietly spoke, "Don't worry, Harry. Jethro *is* a good guy, and I'm gonna hold onto him with both hands. That man is going nowhere, not if I can help it."
Jack exited the waiting room and walked the short distance down the hall to the room Tony had been transferred to earlier that morning. He cautiously opened the door and peeked in. He was met with a glare that challenged his own for intimidation.
Backing out, he let the door swing shut. Maybe he'd been a bit hasty in thinking Jethro wasn't going anywhere.
Jack returned to the waiting room and once again took up his post next to the windows. Could his day get any worse?
+++++++
"Maybourne is not to be trusted, O'Neill."
Jack tore his gaze from Tony's pale features and glanced at his sitting companion. "Do I look like I was born yesterday, Teal'c? Of course, Harry can't be trusted."
Clambering to his feet, he stretched his arms high above his head. Hospital chairs were clearly not made for comfort. In fact, he was pretty sure they were purposefully designed by the hospital staff with a specific purpose in mind. An uncomfortable chair meant visitors leaving earlier than later. Fewer visitors, less people to whine and complain and get in their way.
Jack moved closer to the bed and gently placed his hand on Tony's chest. "Nobody's gettin' rid of me, Junior," he whispered to the sleeping man. "We're here for the duration, no matter how lumpy that pull-out cot is or how rock hard those chairs are. We're not leaving you alone."
Turning back to Teal'c, he continued with their conversation. "Harry did what he did for one purpose and one purpose only. Leverage." He resumed his seat and frowned heavily when his scrawny butt couldn't find a comfortable spot to rest itself upon. "No doubt we'll see ole Harry again."
Teal'c agreed with a grunt, which in all honesty was about all that needed to be said on the matter. Jack nodded his head and resumed his self-appointed scrutiny of their youngest lover.
Tony was still as pale as a ghost but at least he was breathing on his own. A brief two day stint with the ventilator had given his body and lungs the rest they needed, and the doctors were now predicting he'd be home within the week.
Jack briefly closed his eyes. It had been damn hard seeing Tony hooked up to so many machines -- the ventilator, the cardiac monitor, the multiple IV pumps. It had reminded him not only of Daniel's last moments but also of the heartbreak that had accompanied his best friend's death. It was not a feeling he wanted to experience again.
Leaning forward in his chair, he stared at the foot that insisted on hanging out from beneath the covers. It went without saying that he cared for Tony. ‘Hell, just be honest,' he admonished his heart. ‘We love the boy. Not as much as we love Jethro but darn near close.'
"I stand firm in my decision, O'Neill," Teal'c interrupted his silent confession. "As soon as Tony is recovered from this illness, I will tell him the truth."
Jack watched his friend wrestle his large bulk free of the chair he was sitting in and walk toward Tony's bed. Teal'c carefully tucked the disobedient foot back under the covers, a task he had performed countless times since their arrival three days ago. The Jaffa warrior then moved to the head of the bed and carded his fingers through the tousled strands of hair strewn across Tony's forehead. The gesture spoke volumes, and Jack found himself looking away.
"There is another matter I wish to discuss at this moment," Teal'c announced without warning. He turned and pinned Jack with his formidable gaze. "Gibbs is most upset with you, O'Neill."
"Tell me something I don't know."
Jack glanced at the third empty chair keeping vigil with him and Teal'c. Jethro had returned to NCIS headquarters to file a report on the case involving Tony's dosing with anthrax. His lover had grumbled loud and long about leaving their boy but eventually left with the promise to return as soon as possible.
Jack took a second to check his watch before returning his attention to Jethro's chair. The fact that it was on the other side of Teal'c's chair told him in no uncertain terms just how mad his man was with him.
Mad as in no nookie for the next millennium . . . at least.
Jack scrubbed his face. He was tired and horny and in need of one serious, rib-cracking hug.
"If you plan on spilling your guts to Tony, we need to check in with Hammond sooner than later."
Getting to his feet, Jack bypassed the chair next to his and ran his fingers along the arm of the third chair. "He'll have our asses if he gets wind of Harry's little indiscretion."
"And what about your mate?" Teal'c asked.
"What about Jethro?" Jack moved to stand opposite his friend. He added his own styling alteration to Tony's hair, coaxing a disorderly curl behind his ear. "I'm sure he'll come around eventually."
Of course no one needed to know that Hell would probably be frozen over by the time that happened.
Jack opened his mouth to offer an excuse for his lover's attitude, but Teal'c beat him to the punch.
"Eventually is not acceptable, O'Neill," he declared.
Teal'c stood back from the bed and assumed his normal ‘at rest' stance. Jack knew instantly he was in trouble.
"I have decided Tony requires an environment devoid of stress if he is to heal in a timely manner," Teal'c said. "The discord I have witnessed between you and Gibbs is detrimental to this objective. Stop it."
Jack grimaced when his friend reached forward and grabbed the hand that had seen its share of abuse during the past couple of days. First Jethro, then Maybourne's jaw and now Teal'c. His gun hand would never be the same.
"You know that's easier said than done," Jack grumbled. "Jethro's not exactly in an open frame of mind right now."
Teal'c squeezed his hand, and Jack nearly bit his tongue in half to keep from yelling.
"Open his mind, O'Neill," the grim-faced warrior ordered. "Or else."
"Or else what?" Jack jerked his hand free. Grabbing the freshly filled water pitcher that sat close by, he dunked his hand in the chilled water. It felt glorious.
Teal'c aimed the *eyebrow* at him. "Solve your problems or else I will insist the two of you be removed from the premises."
Jack took his improvised ice pack and returned to the row of chairs. He childishly kicked Jethro's before looking back over his shoulder at Teal'c.
"Read my lips, Murray, easier said than done."
+++++++
"Wait up, Jethro."
Jack took one last swallow of coffee before hurrying after his lover. The two of them had agreed Teal'c needed some private time with Tony and grabbing a bite to eat was as good an excuse as any to get them out of the room. The meal had also proven to be the perfect opportunity for Jack to make amends.
Not.
"Fuck you, Jethro," he muttered beneath his breath as he forced his way through a cackling group of nursing students blocking the cafeteria's exit. "What happened to the ‘We'll talk' crap you were spouting three days ago? Got cold feet all of sudden? Don't want to hear the truth?"
Gibbs had his hand on the door leading to the stairs by the time he caught up with him. "Not the stairs again," Jack groused. "Ever heard of an elevator?"
Gibbs ignored him and threw open the door.
Halfway between the sixth and seventh floor his arthritic knees sang out a major protest, and Jack wasted no time in putting a halt to his lover's silent retreat.
"I'm sorry," he forced through clenched teeth.
Gibbs came to a dead stop but didn't turn around. Jack waited a full sixty seconds before touching him on the arm. "Did you hear me? I said I'm sorry."
"Why?"
Jack nearly sagged with relief. It wasn't the response he'd expected, but it was at least something.
Delaying his answer, he closed the distance between them. "You know why," he answered. Planting one foot on the step Jethro occupied, Jack cautiously wrapped an arm around his man's lean waist. Once he determined Jethro wasn't going to jerk free or better yet, belt him one, he moved closer and briefly buried his face in the faded softness of the jersey sweatshirt his lover wore.
"You've been in my shoes," Jack quietly stated, "gone on missions you'll never be able to tell anyone about. You've been there, done that. You know from firsthand experience what I'm dealing with."
Jack was caught by surprise when Jethro turned and hauled him next to him on the step. He was even more astounded when his grim-faced lover pulled him into a full body hug. It was like coming home.
Minutes passed as the two of them savored the embrace's physical closeness. The sound of voices, the banging of doors, the clamor of feet ascending and descending the stairs above and below them -- none of that intruded upon their moment together.
Jack would have been one happy soldier if the hug had lasted a whole lot longer, but it was not to be. Before he knew it, his lover had shoved him away and was standing with his arms folded across his chest on the landing three steps above him. One glance at Jethro's face and he realized he wasn't in the clear yet.
Obviously actions did *not* speak louder than words.
He opened his mouth to apologize again, but Jethro stopped him with a wave of his hand.
"I understand the secrecy," the NCIS agent admitted.
The admission was colored with resentment, which only heaped another handful of coals upon Jack's head. He understood where Jethro was coming from. He hated being lied to as much as the next man. But sometimes it just couldn't be helped. Besides, it wasn't exactly lying, he rationalized. It had merely been a case of withholding information. Keeping your mouth shut and lying were two different things, and Jethro should know that.
His lover's next words proved him right.
"I don't like it, but I understand," Gibbs went on to say. "And I'll understand even better if you leave me the number of a reliable contact person, someone who won't give me the runaround in case something like this happens again."
He pinned Jack with his unforgiving gaze. "Tony was dying, you asshole, and his only request was to see you and Teal'c one last time."
It went without saying that his lover could move lightening fast when he wanted to. Jack wasn't expecting such a demonstration and grunted in pain when Jethro, without warning, grabbed him by the balls.
"You have no idea the shit I had to wade through in order to reach you," Gibbs stated heatedly. "Not to mention the emotional hell of wanting to be at Tony's side yet being unable to because I was racing against time to find the antidote. I needed you, Jack, needed you here. If those damn scientists hadn't programmed in a failsafe . . . ."
Snapping his mouth shut, Gibbs swallowed hard and looked away.
Jack moved to comfort his distraught lover but was held immobile by the hand glued to his crotch. "Jethro, babe, you've got to know---"
"Don't make me hunt you down again," Gibbs hoarsely ordered, "Believe you me, you won't like the consequences."
Jack handed over the number to General Hammond's private phone without hesitation. He wasn't a fool. He knew pissing off Jethro for a second time would put a definite end to his plans for growing old.
The bruising grip on his balls relaxed followed by a pat to his crotch. The no-nonsense tap was in no way the loving caresses he craved 24/7, but who was he to complain? His head was still attached to his shoulders. That in itself was a major achievement considering how angry Jethro was at that moment.
"For yours and Tony's eyes only. Got it?" Jack instructed. He watched Jethro pocket the folded piece of paper. "I mean it, Jethro. You show that number to anyone else and both our butts will be in slings."
Jack withstood the intense scrutiny Jethro subjected him to for all of thirty seconds. "What? Is my shirt on backwards? Is something stuck between my teeth? What?"
Gibbs finally shook his head. "Like I said, I understand the secrecy. Not exactly something you'd want to broadcast to the world." The man let out a sigh that was clearly laden with confusion, not to mention frustration. "What I don't understand is how in the hell are we going to make this work?"
"Make what work?" Jack raked a hand through his hair. Here it was, the conversation he'd been dreading since the day he'd declared his love for Jethro.
Gibbs looked straight at him. "Don't act the fool, Jack. You know what I'm talking about. Us, our relationship, the commitment we made to each other. Taking the red-eye flight every two weeks or so is getting old, really old."
"What's wrong with the way things are now?" Jack asked. "If it's not broken, don't mess with it, that's my motto."
He slid his hand up Jethro's arm and wrapped it around the back of his neck. It had been exactly four weeks, six days and . . . uh . . . eighteen hours since he'd indulged in his favorite pastime. Time to screw hospital policy again.
"Kiss me, please" he asked as nicely as he knew how.
It wasn't nice enough.
"Get a grip on yourself, Jack," Gibbs admonished before pulling free. "Tony's lying in a hospital bed one floor above our heads. And if you haven't noticed, we're standing in a public stairwell. I'm not going to make out with you, not here, not now."
Jack straightened to his full height before stiffly moving past Jethro. The admonishment had stung like hell but in all fairness, it was fully deserved. As much as he wanted to lose himself in Jethro's arms, now wasn't the time.
After climbing to the next landing, he glanced down and, for the first time since his arrival at the hospital, took a good look at his lover.
Jethro looked like death warmed over to put it mildly. The man had lost weight, which wasn't exactly a good thing considering how lean he was to begin with. His face was gaunt with mile-deep grooves carved on either side of his thinly stretched lips. Add to that smudges of bruising under both eyes, and suddenly Jack got the message.
His lover had been through hell and back and had done so alone.
Jack swore under his breath.
"I'm an ass, a real, honest-to-God ass."
Stumbling down the few steps that separated them, Jack threw his arms around Jethro's shoulders and hugged him as hard as he could.
"Never again," he whispered to him. "Never again will you face something like this on your own."
"And just how are you gonna deliver on that promise?" Gibbs gruffly demanded.
It took some serious crushing of ribs before Jethro relaxed enough to return his hug. Jack kept the embrace brief; one dressing down a day was enough for him.
Dropping his arms to his side, Jack reached for Jethro's hand and let loose the tiniest of smiles when his touch wasn't outright rejected. Maybe there was hope for him yet.
"I can't speak for Teal'c, but I'm thinking it's time to hang it up. Retire once and for all. What do you think?"
Jack waited while the commitment band adorning his wrist was repeatedly traced. When Jethro remained silent, Jack claimed his lover's other hand and mimicked his actions, thumbing the thick braiding of gold he'd given his lover shortly after their six-month anniversary.
The present had been late which was par for the course considering not one member of the O'Neill male clan could be classified as sentimental much less romantic. Luckily for him, the bracelet had been received with as much enthusiasm as had been demonstrated when Jethro had given Jack his gift two weeks earlier. Exactly who had the funniest walk following the ‘thank-you' fuckfest that followed was still up for debate according to the youngest member of their foursome.
Tony.
Jack swiped at the uncharacteristic moisture collecting in his eyes.
He had nearly lost the two men he loved most; it was definitely time to rethink things.
Squeezing Jethro's hands, he took a deep breath and quietly asked the one question that would determine his future.
"As you well know, I like looking at the stars. Do you think there's room for my telescope on that boat of yours?"
End of chapter 12
Author's notes: Thanks always to my friend and beta, Elaine.
Disclaimer: This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that ownthese charactersand is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
Introductions, Chapter 13 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
The door leading from the outside patio flew open and smacked the adjacent wall hard enough to dislodge one of the framed photos hanging on its surface. Tony ignored the mess he’d created, and with both hands clenched in fists, stomped over to the couch and glared at Jethro. “Did you know?” he demanded. “Did you fucking know the truth and not tell me?”
Introductions 13
by
Angelise
+++++++
The sound of glass shattering followed by angry yelling roused Jethro from his nap on the couch. Shifting to his side, he rubbed his cheek against the muscular thigh doubling as his pillow. “Sounds like there’s trouble in paradise,” he commented to his lover.
They were one day home from the hospital, and Teal'c and Tony were in the kitchen having what Jack had dubbed the ‘truth talk.” From the sound of things, it wasn’t going well.
Jethro nudged his human pillow. “Jack? You awake?”
The grumbly snort that followed was answer enough. “Jack, wake up.” An accurately placed jab to a certain someone’s abdomen not only emphasized his request, but had the desired effect.
“Huh? What? Is the game on? Who’s winning?”
Tilting his head to the side, Jethro indicated the kitchen. “Are you deaf? World War III is going on in there.”
“As long as they leave the beer alone, I’m good,” O'Neill mumbled.
The abrupt cessation of yelling followed by the vicious slamming of the patio door silenced whatever comment Jethro was about to make. Wondering who had fled the scene, he looked toward the kitchen. A very familiar growl of frustration solved the mystery.
“Oh yeah,” O'Neill drowsily muttered. “There is definitely trouble in paradise.”
Jethro swiped at the hand blindly patting his face. “Sometimes your brilliance amazes me.”
Returning to his previous position, that of lying on his back with his head resting in Jack’s lap, Jethro welcomed the five-finger bandit that automatically reclaimed its position between his legs.
Jack had a thing about crotches, and no matter where they were -- in the bed, on the couch, in the car -- his lover’s hand inevitably found its way to his groin. His man also did the same with Tony unless Teal'c was in the vicinity. For some reason the Jaffa warrior took major offense to the unconventional quirk and had, on several occasions, threatened bodily harm if Jack didn’t keep his ‘appendages’ to himself. Tony, on the other hand, craved the physical attention, and nine times out of ten, managed to sweet-talk his mate into permitting the harmless caress. Of course, Jack, being the semi-smart person he was, knew better than to test his friend’s limited patience and more often than not, removed his hand in a most expeditious manner.
Jethro intertwined his fingers with those hugging the Gibbs family jewels. “You think we should go see what’s wrong?”
To be honest, there was no way he was moving from the couch. After two weeks of living day and night at the hospital, they had finally settled down for their routine ‘Pretend to watch the Sunday game’ nap and as much as he wanted to know how the ‘truth talk’ was going, he was not going to give up his comfy spot.
Jack scooted further down on the couch and extended his legs toward the coffee table. He cleared a spot for his feet between the empty coffee mugs and pizza carton that had constituted breakfast. “I think we should mind our own business,” he managed to say between yawns. “Besides, it’s much more fun watching them go at each other. Not to mention the make-up sex that follows.”
Jethro deliberately bumped his head against the piece of anatomy stirring to life beneath his skull. “I swear, Jack, you have a one track mind.”
The door leading from the outside patio flew open and smacked the adjacent wall hard enough to dislodge one of the framed photos hanging on its surface. Tony ignored the mess he’d created, and with both hands clenched in fists, stomped over to the couch and glared at Jethro.
“Did you know?” he demanded. “Did you fucking know the truth and not tell me?”
A violent coughing spell halted any further questions.
Both Jack and Jethro sprang into action. Jethro guided Tony to the couch and held him close, bracing the younger man’s sore ribcage during the worst of the attack. Jack headed to the kitchen for the required medicine and glass of water. He was nearly knocked down by Teal'c who was rushing toward the den with his mate’s nebulizer unit in hand. Within minutes a dose of the vilest-tasting medicine ever produced had been reluctantly swallowed. Tony verbalized his opinion of the liquid med with a loud ‘Yuck!’ but not a single soul headed his protest. Slapping uncooperative hands aside, Teal'c moved into position and expertly commenced giving Tony his nebulizer treatment. Unfortunately the fine mist that rose from the face mask did nothing to lessen the accusing glare aimed at all three of them.
Jethro relinquished his spot on the couch as soon as he was sure Tony was breathing freely. “Sounded like you damn near coughed up a lung that time, DiNozzo,” he commented.
Even though visibly madder than hell, once finished with his treatment, Tony instinctively sought shelter in Teal'c’s arms. The unconscious action spoke louder than words to Jethro about Tony’s state of heart. Thus thinking he was out of the woods, he reached for the empty glass of water. His retreat to the kitchen was prevented by a hand latching onto his arm.
“Did you know?” Tony asked again, his voice sounding tired and strained. “Did you know the truth about them,” he indicated Jack and Teal'c. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me I was fucking a snake-infested alien from another galaxy?”
Jethro knew his mouth was hanging open in shock, and a quick glance to the side confirmed he was not alone in his reaction.
“Tony, if you’d let me---”
The nearly voiceless words, ‘You bastard,’ were thrown at him, and Jethro had the decency to cringe with guilt.
Stumbling to his feet, Tony braced a hand on Teal'c’s shoulders until his legs were steady enough to hold his weight. He then unsuccessfully tried to remove the bracelet he wore on his left wrist. After three attempts, he held his arm out to Jack. “Get this off of me,” he heatedly snapped. “The spirit in which it was given no longer holds true, and I refuse to wear the damn thing another minute.”
Jethro felt his breath catch in his throat. Teal'c had given Tony the cuff bracelet in a private commitment service at the hospital. A close friend of Jack’s had performed the ceremony, with the two of them acting as witnesses. Teal'c’s declaration of love and commitment had proven to be the catalyst in Tony’s recovery.
Jack appeared as stunned as Teal'c was and twice fumbled the bracelet’s latch. He finally got it off but before he could ask what to do with the thing, Tony grabbed it up and threw it at Teal'c. The beautifully engraved cuff was barely caught in time.
“You might want to look up the word ‘honesty’ next time you pledge yourself to someone,” Tony brusquely instructed his silent lover.
Not waiting for an answer, he turned on wobbly legs and, grabbing at the various pieces of furniture in his path, walked back outside.
“He didn’t mean it, Teal'c.”
Swallowing the pain that threatened to choke him, Jethro turned and looked at his lover. Jack was comforting Teal'c or at least trying his best to do so. Despite his efforts, the bewildered look of disbelief remained firmly fixed on the large man’s face. It was one Jethro had never seen before and honestly, didn’t wish to see again.
Tightening the arm he had thrown around his friend’s shoulders, O'Neill leaned forward and pinned Teal'c with his gaze. “It’s his brain that’s talking, not his heart. He loves you, Teal'c. I know that. You know that.”
Jethro reached over and tapped Jack on the shoulder. His lover spared a glance for him and nodded. Message sent and received. Jack would offer his shoulder to Teal'c while he, himself, would offer his to Tony.
Finding the patio vacant, Jethro walked slowly toward the large storage shed located at the rear of the property. The spacious building was home to his boat, his tools and one anxious, trembling Anthony DiNozzo.
Eyes glittering with condemnation accosted him the moment he stepped through the door.
“You knew, you bastard,” Tony stated. “Knew the truth and didn’t tell me.”
Sighing, Jethro shook his head. Trust, not to mention abandonment, were major issues with Tony, and their silence on the matter, albeit unintentional, had shaken the foundation of the relationship they had built amongst the four of them.
Time to mend fences.
“Damn it, DiNozzo, it’s not like I deliberately withheld the truth. Time was running out, fast. You were near death, and that fucking bitch wouldn’t---” Jethro took a deep breath and forcibly lowered his voice and his racing heart. Tony had already suffered one stress-induced spell of respiratory distress. No use pushing him into another one.
Leaning a hip against the nearest workbench, Jethro ran a hand through his hair while desperately trying to find the words that would assure his younger companion. “Look, you’ve got to understand. I was nearly out of my mind with worry about you. You were dying, and when I couldn’t reach Jack, things went from bad to worse. Hell, it got to the point where I finally had to call in a major IOU. You were totally out of it by the time that person put me in touch with someone who could locate Jack.”
Jethro reached out a hand to Tony, needing, once more, to confirm his friend and lover was indeed alive and well. His hand never made contact, and it hurt more than he was willing to admit.
Closing his eyes, Jethro sighed again. God, he hated explaining himself.
Glancing at Tony, he continued, “To be honest, once you were released from isolation, there just never seemed to be a good time to tell you what I’d learned.”
Jethro forced a grin he didn’t feel, whatsoever. “If you remember, you were in ICU for nearly a week. Kinda hard to hold a private conversation when everyone and their mother is popping in on you every ten minutes or so. And let’s not forget you being on the ventilator. That didn’t help the situation either, if you know what I mean.”
Tony obviously didn’t. He moved even further away.
Undaunted, Jethro followed. “By the time you were off the vent, Teal'c was proposing, and then there was the ceremony. Why he couldn’t wait until you got home, I’ll never know. Anyway, before I knew it, you were being discharged, and Jack was fluffing pillows for you at the new house.”
Jethro took a chance and grasped Tony by the arm. “It just got so damn busy,” he admitted.
Busy wasn’t the word for it. He’d been in the midst of closing on the house he’d bought for the four of them when everything went to hell. Between work, getting their stuff moved, watching over Tony at the hospital, reassuring Jack their boy would live, not to mention standing witness at the commitment ceremony Teal'c insisted upon -- well, things became a bit complicated and sharing the truth had gotten lost in the shuffle.
“That’s no excuse.”
Jethro was forced to take a step back when Tony turned and invaded his personal space.
“You knew and didn’t tell me,” he hoarsely accused.
Jethro grunted when a fist impacted with his chest.
“I may not be your soulmate, like Jack is,” Tony informed him, “but I am your lover and as such, should’ve been told.”
Jethro deflected the fourth blow. Gently, he lifted Tony’s fist to his mouth and kissed each clenched-white knuckle. He repeated the caress until the knuckles returned to their natural color.
Repeating the words Jack had spoken to him on more than one occasion since their recent fight, Jethro stated evenly, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. I should have told you the truth.”
“Damn straight, you bastard. Don’t do it again.”
His slap to the back of Tony’s head went astray when his companion turned on his heel and resumed his visual inspection of the unfinished boat. Jethro, instead of following, maintained his distance. Tony wasn’t finished with him by any means, and the more breathing space between them, the better.
“Okay, now that you’ve finished tearing me a new one, let’s talk about Teal'c. That was damn insensitive of you, throwing his gift back at him.” Jethro took a closer look. He noted Tony’s attention wasn’t focused on the boat but rather on his left wrist, his ‘bare’ left wrist. “Want to tell me what brought on that bit of childish behavior?”
Silently he watched Tony wrestle with his thoughts. Watched and watched and watched. His patience, which was already stretched thin, was to the point of unraveling when an exhausted moan announced Tony’s surrender.
“Why? Why me?”
Jethro suddenly found his arms filled with a body that felt unbelievably frail.
“Tony? Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
Coaxing his shaky lover to a nearby bench, Jethro tucked Tony against his side and tangled his fingers in the disorder of hair tucked beneath his chin. “I know you, DiNozzo. Teal'c being from another planet isn’t the problem. You’re a sci-fi junkie. The thought of having your very own alien is thrilling you beyond belief.”
He felt rather than heard the half-hearted chuckle. “I also know you love Teal'c more than anyone else in the world. So what’s wrong?”
Jethro murmured a protest when Tony disengaged himself and walked back toward the boat. “Hang on. Where are you---”
“You’re right, as usual,” his companion interjected, “but . . . .”
Tony glanced over his shoulder, and once again Jethro felt his heart catch in his throat. Tony’s eyes were filled with tears, and within those tears was the glimmer of despair.
“He has a family, Jethro, a wife and a son. What if . . . .” Turning back toward the boat, Tony gripped a wooden slat and banged his forehead against it. “You fool, you stupid, dumbass fool. It’s gonna be just like it was before. One minute you’ve got everything you ever wanted, then, wham! It’s all taken away.”
Tony slammed his head against the slat a second and third time. “Damn, you’d think by now I would’ve learned my lesson.”
His patience now non-existent, Jethro stepped forward, and this time made contact with the back of Tony’s head.
“DiNozzo! Quit babbling and tell me what the hell you’re talking about.”
Jethro pulled Tony away from the boat and examined his forehead for any damage. “Good thing you have such a thick skull, ‘cause it’s obviously going to take more than just a few hits to make you see sense.” Carding his fingers through hair that seriously needed a trim, he stated with conviction, “Teal'c loves you, pure and simple.”
“I know he loves me,” Tony begrudgingly admitted, “But what if . . .” Straightening, he brushed a hand over his eyes and frowned when it came back wet with tears. “Don’t you get it? Teal'c’s married. Has a wife, a son. In another galaxy. What if one day he decides it’s time to return home? Or better yet, he finally realizes I’m not worth the hassle. What if one day he decides he’s tired of my sorry ass and goes back to them?”
“I didn’t know Teal'c had a family.” Jethro hugged Tony close and grimaced when he felt the fine tremors shaking DiNozzo’s thin frame. “You do realize you’re borrowing trouble before it happens. Teal'c made a commitment to you. Why would you think---”
“If you had remained in the kitchen you would know that my wife is dead, and my son, Rya’c, is training to be a warrior in the fight against the Goa’uld.”
Teal'c stood directly behind Tony, his dark features drawn with worry. “You are my mate, Anthony DiNozzo, my family. I care for you deeply, and if I travel offworld, return home, I hope you will accompany me.”
The large man gripped Tony by his shoulders. “My soul is committed to you. I will not abandon you. On that I have given you my word. If Stargate Command permits it, I will reside with you here in this dwelling Gibbs has procured.”
“Teal'c?” Tony took possession of the hand clutching his shoulders and turned around. His voice broke when he saw the symbol of their commitment held out to him. The fact that the large hand holding the bracelet shook slightly was not lost on him. “Are you . . . are you sure? You’re not saying all this shit just so you can fuck me?”
Straightening to his full height, Tony stiffened his spine and forcibly removed himself from Teal'c’s side. “I’ve been down this road before,” he explained. “Given my heart to someone I loved, committed myself to a relationship I thought would last forever, only to discover I was just an easy lay, an ass to be fucked until a better one came along. I will not . . . I refuse to put myself through that again.”
Jethro rubbed his chest in sympathy when Teal'c received the same treatment he had earlier.
“You lied to me,” Tony accused with each thump of his fist. “You and your cohorts lied to me.”
“I concede,” Teal'c admitted with a nod of his head. “O'Neill and I did withhold vital information regarding our identities. It was not intentional, my mate. We were under orders.”
“Are you saying this Stargate whatever is more important than me?”
Tony got right up in Teal'c’s face, and Jethro couldn’t help but smile at the sight of their boy taking on the immovable giant.
“How fucking long were you going to keep me in the dark? Forever?” Tony shared a glance with Jethro. “Thank God for that guy Jethro connected with. At least he had the balls to tell us the truth.”
Jethro looked over at Teal'c and instinctively moved closer to Tony. The man looked like he was about to blow a gasket.
“If you would cease talking and permit me to explain, I will---”
Jethro closed his eyes. Hell was about to break loose, and he wasn’t in the mood to witness Teal'c’s demise.
“Stop it! Stop all this damn nonsense right now.”
Jethro cracked one eye open. Jack had bravely placed himself between the two disputing lovers and was somehow managing to keep Tony from launching himself at Teal'c.
“You,” he instructed Teal'c, “stand back. Give the boy some room.”
“You,” he turned to Tony, “sit down before you fall down. We didn’t go through hell getting you better just so you could have a relapse.”
Surprisingly both men complied.
“Okay now.” O'Neill rubbed his face with both hands before glaring at Tony. “Yes, we lied. Lied through our teeth repeatedly. But like Teal'c said, it wasn’t intentional.”
O’Neill stepped closer to Tony and gently massaged his shoulder. “You have to understand, Teal'c and I are members of a top secret government project. We are under standing orders, orders that prevent us from sharing information with anyone not connected with the project.”
O’Neill held up a hand when Tony opened his mouth. “In all fairness to Teal'c, he did insist on telling you the truth about himself weeks ago. I asked him to put a lid on it until we could talk to our C.O. You getting sick threw a wrench into our plans and well . . .” O’Neill spread his hands open, “here we are.”
Tony looked over at Teal'c. “Is that the truth? You were gonna tell me everything despite being under orders not to?”
Teal'c nodded. “You are my mate. I could no longer dishonor your love with falsehoods.”
Jethro moved to Jack’s side and laid a comforting hand on his back. He was about to share something with Tony that would no doubt hurt the man he had committed his heart to. “I know what you’re feeling, Tony. When I discovered the deception, I was mad. Hell, I was madder than mad. Felt betrayed in a way I found hard to explain or even forgive.”
Jack’s sharp intake of breath halted his explanation, and Jethro took time to soothe him with a brief kiss to the cheek.
“It hurts,” he continued, “still hurts, but I understand. I understand why they had to do what they did. The enormity of the Stargate Project is frankly inconceivable, and I can see why the government has it under such a tight lid of security. Foreign governments would kill to get their hands on such a thing.”
Jethro squatted in front of Tony and tapped the jaw muscle that was in a constant state of movement. “I know this sounds ridiculous, but forget about the Stargate Project for a moment. There’s something more important you need to consider.”
Sliding his thumb over Tony’s chin, he tilted the man’s head down and looked him square in the eye. “Have you given one thought to the risk Teal'c has taken in telling you about himself? As much as we love him, the truth is he’s an alien, and in all honestly, he should be confined to base. The fact that he is allowed out in the general population speaks highly of the trust our government has in him.”
“And yet that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still an alien. His continued presence is a tenuous thing at best.” Jethro glanced at Teal'c for confirmation before continuing. “To put it plainly, he’s here because the President permits it. Have you considered what would happen to him if the ‘powers that be’ discovered he’s revealed himself and thus, the existence of the Stargate Project, to a civilian?”
“They’d ship his butt back through the Gate so fast your head would spin,” O’Neill interjected.
Jethro turned and glared at his life-partner. “Who’s telling this story? Me or you?”
O’Neill hunched his shoulders in apology. “Sorry.”
“Not without me they won’t. No way, no how.”
Jethro stared at the spot that Tony had occupied just five seconds ago. It was now vacant. Rising to his feet, he located the missing member of their foursome standing next to Teal'c.
“You go, I go. No arguments.” Tony shook his finger at Teal'c. “You see this?” he asked, taking the silver cuff from his man’s unresisting fingers and waving it in front of his face. “This means we’re a team, you and I. If you leave, I leave.” He slapped the cuff back on his wrist then crossed his arms over his chest. “And don’t for one minute think you’re gonna be the hero of this duo. I will not play Robin to your Batman, Big Guy. You better get it through that thick skull of yours that I am perfectly capable of taking care of my . . . oh shit.”
Tony stumbled to the floor when knees weakened by his extended illness gave way. Jethro rushed forward but was pushed aside.
“He is my mate,” Teal'c decreed with a growl. “I will see to his needs,”
Jethro threw his hands up in the air and wisely backed off.
“As heartwarming as all this shit is,” O’Neill interrupted the reconciling couple, “there’s still the issue of meeting with Hammond in the morning. You,” he pointed at Tony, “better be fully prepared to back up your promises with action. And you,” he pinned Teal'c with an empathetic gaze, “better be ready for a fight. Hammond’s not going to like this whatsoever, and you need to make sure you have all your ducks in a row.”
“I see no reason why I should concern myself with the alignment of yellow-feathered fowl, O'Neill,” Teal'c replied. The barest of smiles curved his full lips. It reminded Jethro of the cat who bagged the unsuspecting canary.
“Huh?” O’Neill snapped his mouth shut. “Your future with Tony is about to be determined one way or the other. Why aren’t you worried?”
Teal'c looked at Jack as if he were a dull-witted child. “I was not the one who, as you put it, spilled the beans. Colonel Maybourne is responsible. It will be his gluteus maximus occupying the hot seat.”
“Ass. Just say ass,” O’Neill instructed with a roll of his eyes.
“He’s right,” Jethro noted. “Technically, your pal Maybourne is the one at fault. As far as your C.O. knows, neither you nor Teal'c said a word to us.”
The gleam of fiendishness suddenly brightened Jack’s eyes, and he rubbed his hands together. “You’re right. Maybourne takes the fall instead of us. Oh yeah, this could work, this could so work.”
“What about the reason for contacting this Maybourne fellow?” Tony asked after turning around to face them. Tilting his head back, he nipped Teal'c’s throat and groaned when it was reciprocated with a caress below the equator. “Hold that thought, Handsome.”
Tony looked first at Jethro, then at Jack. “Well? Are we ready to out ourselves to your boss? Do we tell him the reason why Jethro was on the hunt for you guys?” With a lopsided grin, he shook his head. “Man, we could so make a movie out of that. ‘The Agony of Love Gone Missing.’ How’s that for a title?”
“Do not quit your day job, my mate,” Teal'c quipped. The elbow aimed for his abdomen was caught and gently tucked away.
Restraining the smile that broke free, Jethro faced Jack. “Seriously, Tony’s made a good point. Do we divulge our relationship to your C.O.?”
O’Neill dismissed their concerns with a wave of his hand. “Hammond’s not dumb. He figured me out way back when. Now Teal'c, well, we’ll just blame his choice of partners on him being an alien.”
O'Neill ignored his friend’s grunt of annoyance. “Besides, the old man will eat this shit up. He’s a softie at heart, and once he hears about Tony lying near death’s door and that his one and only request was to see his lovers one final time . . . no doubt he’ll be searching for a hankie.”
“Whaddaya say, Teal'c?” O’Neill addressed his teammate. “Ready to throw Maybourne to the lions?”
“I’d say he’s ready to throw Tony over his shoulder and fuck him senseless.”
Jethro indicated the two men going at each other like starving fools. Clothes were being ripped off in between kisses that threatened to melt both polar ice-caps.
“Looks like paradise is a happy place once more,” O’Neill surmised. Teasingly, he fondled Jethro’s ass. “Come on, babe. Time to let the kiddies play amongst themselves.”
Jethro resisted the pull on his arm. He remained steadfast until Teal'c had lifted Tony off his feet and disappeared out the door. Once the two were gone, he turned and gathered Jack into his arms.
“I know I hurt you earlier with what I said, and I’m sorry,” he admitted.
The grin on Jack’s face was replaced with a disheartened frown. “I’ve apologized a million times. I’m sorry for deceiving you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. What else do you want me to say?”
Jethro gripped the sides of Jack’s head and solidly kissed him. “I’ll be honest, there are moments when I want to beat the crap out of you for leaving me without a contact number. And if you care to know, I still have nightmares about Tony dying with only me at his bedside.”
Kisses meant to reassure and apologize were offered to him repeatedly. Jethro accepted and returned them all.
“I love you, Jack O'Neill,” he openly confessed while touching their foreheads together. “You are my mate, and like Tony with Teal'c, where you go, I go.”
Jack closed his eyes and took a deep, chest-shuddering breath. When his lover’s sable orbs were once again trained on him, Jethro saw in their depths the feelings Jack had no words for. A full minute passed as they stared at each other. Finally a cocky lift of the eyebrow followed by a grin that warned of future depravity lightened the emotionally-laden mood that had settled down upon them.
Clearing his throat, O'Neill gruffly stated. “Well, if you’re going where I’m going then you’re way overdressed.”
Jethro laughed. “Overdressed, am I?”
Eager hands started working on the belt to his slacks. “Oh yeah,” O’Neill agreed. “Clothes are definitely redundant.”
“What about our nap?” Jethro reminded his lover. “The game?”
His rapidly hardening shaft was released from his briefs, and Jethro couldn’t help but moan with pleasure when it was stroked with restrained enthusiasm.
“Does this monster look sleepy to you?” O'Neill questioned with a noisy lick of his lips. “As far as I can tell, this big boy looks primed and ready for action.” Shifting his hand further back, he convinced Jethro, with a tug on his balls, to widen his stance. “And these fellas are demanding equal attention, too. What about it, Jarhead? Ready for a little one on one action with the Mighty O'Neill?”
“Lead the way, Fly Boy.”
They had barely gone a few steps when Jethro slapped Jack on the back of the head. “You can let go of my dick, you asshole. I can follow without you tugging on my leash.”
“Ah, but what a mighty fine leash it is, my mate.”
Jethro punched Jack in the arm before zipping up his pants. “Fucking aside,” he said once they were on their way back to the house, “I’ve decided that today is as good as any for explaining the house rules, especially now that it appears the four of us might be living together on a full-time basis.”
“Rules? You got rules?”
Jethro slid an arm around Jack’s waist. “Number One. Touch the coffeemaker, and you die. It’s programmed to my specifications. Mess with those settings, and your life is forfeit.”
O’Neill faked a put upon sigh. “And number two?”
“Play with those tools in the shed without my permission or supervision, and you’ll discover exactly how far up your ass my fist can go.”
The glint of alarm darkened his lover’s expressive eyes, and Jethro grinned when Jack glanced back toward the storage shed while rubbing his behind.
“Just how many rules are there?” O’Neill hesitantly inquired.
“Twelve, and I expect you and Teal’c to memorize them. Tony has.”
“He would, Ass-kisser.”
Laughing, Jethro pulled Jack toward the back door. “How ‘bout we get comfy. Knowing your disregard for rules and regulations, this could take awhile.”
End of chapter 13
Author’s notes: Major thanks to Elaine. If she beta’d this chapter once, she beta’d it a hundred times. Thanks for your patience and thoughtful advice. You’re the bestest!
Disclaimer: This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
Introductions, Chapter 14 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Hammond sighed. It was bad enough he was witness to the full disclosure of Jack’s sexuality. Did he really have to know about Teal'c or the fact that both of them were in a relationship with not only each other but two other men as well?
Introductions 14
by
Angelise
++++++
“Yes, Sir. I understand. Yes, Sir. Happy Holidays to you and your family as well.”
Hammond ended the call and, with a tight smile, sat contemplating the red phone he’d just finished using.
The President had made his decision, and there was nothing he, nor anyone else, could do or say that would alter it.
Glancing at the closed door of his office, George considered the men standing on the other side waiting for his command to enter.
Jack O'Neill and Teal'c. Not only were they two of his best men, but they were also the reason for the unrelenting jackhammers pounding away at his brain.
Transferring his gaze to the ceiling. George leaned back in his chair. Jack’s unforeseen retirement from the Stargate program, and consequently the Air Force, would be official in less than a month. It went without saying that he was having a hard time imagining a day, much less a future, without the man’s exasperating presence in it.
“Why Jack? Why now?” George asked aloud even though he knew the answer.
Daniel Jackson.
The young man’s death had affected Jack in ways many of them could not even begin to understand. Work, relationships and life in general had been thoroughly scrutinized and found sadly lacking. Deeply guarded secrets, one in particular that George had already guessed, were openly shared with the truest of friends, and he felt honored to be included amongst those trusted with such.
“Of course, it’s put me in one hell of an awkward situation,” he muttered, “but what else is new?”
Massaging his throbbing temples, George glanced again at the door. ‘New? What else is new? Damn it, Jack. Couldn’t you be like everyone else for once in your life?’
No.
The question had barely formed in his mind when its answer came barreling straight at him. There was nothing normal about Jack O'Neill, nothing normal at all. And if further proof was warranted, the evidence was standing right outside the door in the form of one very determined Jaffa warrior.
Teal'c.
George sighed. It was bad enough he was witness to the full disclosure of Jack’s sexuality. Did he really have to know about Teal'c or the fact that both of them were in a relationship with not only each other but two other men as well?
George closed his eyes and shook his head in utter disbelief.
A foursome. Jack and Teal'c were part of a foursome, a ‘gay’ foursome.
The pounding in his head intensified tenfold.
Picking up one of the many papers lying on his desk in front of him, he examined Teal'c’s formal request to live off base. Recent events involving their significant others . . . George searched his memory for the names of the two men.
Gibbs and DiNozzo.
He nodded his head in satisfaction when the names came easily to mind.
NCIS Agents Leroy Gibbs and Anthony DiNozzo.
Recent events involving the two federal agents, specifically young DiNozzo’s brush with death, had convinced Jack it was time to bid Uncle Sam a fond farewell. Time to leave the thrill of exploration to those whose joints didn’t protest every little movement and whose hair hadn’t turned entirely gray. According to Jack, he’d had enough of near misses to last several lifetimes and continuing with his military career just wasn’t worth the risk now that he was in a committed relationship.
George turned and looked at the framed family photographs scattered throughout his office. He could still hear Jack’s voice as he recited the frightening story of his young lover’s illness. The obvious agony in the man’s hushed voice brought back memories of loved ones he, himself, had lost over the years, and it was all George could do to keep his own voice steady while offering words of comfort and understanding.
Teal'c had remained silent during the entire story, and thus had surprised him by extending a hand to join with his when he’d reached out in sympathy and grasped Jack’s. One look at the Jaffa’s expressive eyes as the details of DiNozzo’s lengthy recovery were discussed told him just how important the young man was to Teal'c.
George glanced down at the form submitted to him upon his arrival at the base this morning. Teal'c was seeking permission to live off base permanently. More to the point, he wanted permission to leave the program but still have access to the Stargate. As the fight with the Goa’uld progressed, Teal'c would need to travel off-world in order to assist with the rebellion. The only problem was that he wished to do so as a civilian -- a civilian who just happened to reside in their nation’s capital with his three male lovers.
Lovers.
George pinched the bridge of his nose. Too much information. His brain was overloading on too much information. And now . . . .
He looked at the red phone sitting so innocently on his desk.
The sharing of information, or rather on Jack’s part, the lack of sharing, was the reason for the upcoming meeting. As usual, Jack had neglected to inform the proper authorities of certain changes in his life.
George rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that the bureaucratic paper-pushers needed to know Jack was in a relationship with three other men. Hell, no, he silently exclaimed. Talk about stirring up some shit.
What Jack should have done, was required to do, was to submit the names of any and all non-SG personnel he wished authorized to contact him while on base. All calls went through the base’s main switchboard and if a person’s name wasn’t on the list of secure contacts, then that person was, without exception, denied access.
Checking the call sheets for the day DiNozzo fell ill, George had discovered a total of fifteen calls from Gibbs, all within a six hour time span. The man must have been at wit’s end. No wonder he’d sought help elsewhere.
George grimaced in sympathy. He would have done the same considering the circumstances.
Picking up a pen, he made a note to research Gibbs’ background a bit more thoroughly. He already had the man’s file on his desk, but nothing in it indicated a connection to Harry Maybourne.
A deliberate growl of frustration rose in the back of his throat, and George did nothing to silence it.
Colonel Harry Maybourne was one royal pain in the ass and had, on more than one occasion, made their lives at the SGC a living hell. Even now the sneaky bastard was sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong and had, subsequently, revealed top-secret information to Jack and Teal'c’s respective partners.
George forcibly opened his clenched fists. The reason for Maybourne’s treasonous stupidity was beyond his comprehension, and even if he did manage to somehow figure out the convoluted workings of the man’s brain, it didn’t matter. The damage had been done. As required, the incident involving Maybourne was reported to their Commander-in-Chief, and because the President was now pissed as hell, Teal'c’s request had been unequivocally denied.
“This is not my day,” George muttered as he rose to his feet.
Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and instructed, “Come in, gentlemen.” Jack entered first, followed quickly on his heels by Teal'c.
Striding back to his desk, George pretended not to notice the love bite on Jack’s neck that was barely hidden by the collar of his jacket.
“Sit down.” The words came out a little more brusque than necessary but considering the image that had taken shape in his mind, that of Teal'c sucking on Jack’s throat, it was a wonder he could speak at all.
George waited until both men had taken their seats before resuming his. “I’ve spoken to the President regarding the situation and to say that he’s not happy in the least is an understatement.”
“Harry’s in hot water, eh?” O'Neill asked with a smug smile on his face.
George answered with his own concurring smile. “The President has issued orders to apprehend Maybourne at all costs. You could say our former colleague is now the most wanted man on the planet.”
O'Neill rubbed his hands while Teal'c solemnly nodded his head. “Can’t wait to see the look on ole Harry’s face when the Feds slap the cuffs on him.”
“That is a sight we will have to miss, O'Neill,” Teal'c stated. “As civilians we will no longer have the necessary clearance to view such events unless, of course, they are publicly broadcasted on one of your nation’s many news channels. I, myself, prefer CNN. Anderson Cooper is not only highly intelligent but as you are fond of saying, O'Neill, the man is ‘easy on the eyes.’”
George felt his grin slide completely off his face, and he was not the only one to notice it.
“Sir?” His forehead creased with worry, O'Neill leaned forward. “What’s wrong?”
“General Hammond?” Teal'c also leaned forward in his chair. “Am I to assume my request has met with your superior’s disapproval?”
His reply died a quick death when eyes burning with fierce intensity caught and held him in place.
Teal'c stood and slowly placed his arms behind his back. “I formally request safe passage through the Stargate for both myself and my mate, Anthony DiNozzo.” He stalled Jack’s protests with a firm grip to his shoulder then immediately relaxed his grip when the man grunted in pain.
“I apologize for causing you discomfort, my friend,” Teal'c apologized.
The Jaffa’s gentle tone hardened into one of steel, and George forced himself not to flinch when it was directed at him.
“I have sacrificed much in order to assist your government in the fight against the Goa’uld,” Teal'c declared. “I left my home, abandoned my wife and son, suffered injuries too numerous to recite. I expect you to honor my years of voluntary service by allowing me to leave as requested.”
Teal'c’s gaze turned hostile. “Or do you plan to hold me hostage for the remainder of my years?”
The Jaffa placed one hand on either side of George’s desk and leaned forward. “You are an honorable man, General Hammond. It would cause me great displeasure to fight you.”
George carefully inched his chair away from the desk when Teal'c leaned in closer and whispered a threat that was anything but idle.
“And know this,” the dark-skinned warrior warned. “It is a fight you won’t win. I *will* leave this place, and my mate *will* be at my side when I do so.”
“Now wait one darn minute.” George shoved back his chair and stood. Threats, whether genuine or not, did not bode well with him. “Sit down, Teal'c.” he commanded. “You too, Jack.”
O'Neill had assumed flank position when Teal'c made his move. Not only that but he looked about as determined if not more so than his colleague to take up the challenge.
“No one is going anywhere,” George corrected. “Yes, the President has denied your request to live in D.C. on a permanent basis. He feels it’s too much of a security risk, and I agree. The citizens of this country just aren’t ready to have an alien living amongst them, no matter how opened-minded they think they are.” He raised a hand when both men moved to speak. “However, since I’m not the heartless bastard you two believe me to be---”
“General Ham---”
“Hey, hold on. It wasn’t me who---”
George waved them to silence. “As I was saying, I’ve given this matter a great deal of thought and am prepared to offer your . . . .” Closing his eyes briefly, he searched for the correct word to describe Teal'c’s lover. What was the PC term being used nowadays? Domestic partner? Life companion? Significant other?
George again rubbed his throbbing temples. “Thanks to Maybourne, both your . . . umm, partners have full disclosure of this facility. And because I can’t undo what’s already been done, nor can I disobey a direct order from the President, I’m therefore offering yours,” he glanced at Teal'c, “a position here on base. There is a vacancy with our own internal investigative services, one that I’m sure DiNozzo is more than qualified for. As to living arrangements . . . .”
George took a closer look at Teal'c and silently breathed a sigh of relief when he noted the bloodthirsty gleam fading from the man’s obsidian eyes. Clearing his throat, he continued with his proposal. “Of course, DiNozzo would be issued his own private quarters if he should so desire to live on base. However,” George glanced briefly at Jack hoping the man would catch the hint he was about to offer, “if DiNozzo happened to own a home here locally, I do believe there would be no objections to you spending time with him on the weekends.”
He pinned Teal'c with a look that dared the man to argue. “And, if those two day passes should somehow extend to three or even four days, then so be it. I don’t think the President would object, especially if the two of you continue working for the SGC *and* conduct yourselves in the proper manner.”
George ignored the elbow jab and teasing grin Jack aimed at Teal'c.
“Obviously,” he announced loud enough to recapture his men’s wandering attention, “all of this hinges on DiNozzo being cleared by security. From what I’ve seen, his record is clean, his performance evaluations above average. I foresee no problems in that area.”
Finished with his announcement, George resumed his seat and was somewhat caught by surprise when his words weren’t met with the appropriate expressions of gratitude he’d expected.
“Crap! This is not what we expected.” O'Neill turned to Teal'c. “Why did you let Jethro talk us into this harebrain idea?”
“O'Neill,” Teal'c firmly corrected, “I do not believe it was Gibbs who suggested we---”
“Whatever.” Raking a hand through his hair, O'Neill sighed loud and long. “You can’t leave. That’s a given. We gotta stick together, no matter what.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Jethro’s so not going to like this. You know how attached to Tony he is.”
“As it is with you,” Teal'c replied. “I believe you will miss our youngest lover more than Gibbs.”
“Well, Tony is one fine specimen of manhood, not to mention he gives a hell of a bl---”
Cheeks flaming with embarrassment, Jack clamped his mouth shut, leaving George to wonder exactly what task DiNozzo was good at.
“Um, well, you know what I mean,” O'Neill mumbled. Standing suddenly, he repeatedly paced the entire length of the room. “It goes without saying that you two can have my house. I was gonna put it on the market now that Jethro’s bought---” Turning on his heel, he again faced his partner and cursed. “Damn it, Teal'c. Jethro just bought that big honking house thinking we’d all be together. How in the hell are we gonna afford the notes on it?”
Glancing sideways at his commander, O'Neill frowned. “Sorry, sir, but to be honest, the program’s retirement package sucks big time.”
“No offense taken,” George answered.
“I believe I have the answer, O'Neill,” Teal'c offered.
“What’s that?” Returning to his chair, O'Neill sat down and stared gloomily at the floor.
“I am confident Tony will comply with General Hammond’s proposal,” Teal'c ascertained. “His subsequent resignation will create a vacancy within Gibbs’ team. Might I suggest you apply for that position?”
George hid the grin that came from seeing the expression of complete and utter shock on Jack’s face.
“Me?” O'Neill croaked. “Work for Jethro? Have you lost your mind?”
“I have, in no way, misplaced my intelligence.” Teal'c laid his hand high on Jack’s thigh and squeezed. “O'Neill, do not dismiss my suggestion, not until you consider the opportunities such a position will present to you and your mate. Opportunities for . . . .”
Leaning to the side, Teal’c whispered something George could not hear. Whatever it was clinched the dispute.
Oh no.
An incredibly familiar look of wickedness had settled upon Jack’s face, and suddenly George was praying for the continued well-being of one Jethro Leroy Gibbs.
“You are one devious bastard,” O'Neill happily admitted while slapping Teal'c on the back. “Good thing I keep you around. Would never have thought of that.”
Teal'c denied his colleague’s claim. “I refuse to accept such a statement, O'Neill. Your mind is much more devious than mine, and will, no doubt, devise opportunities that not even Gibbs can anticipate.”
O'Neill agreed with a smile of extreme smugness. “You’re right, of course. Jethro won’t know what hit him.”
George allowed his men to banter back and forth for another minute or two. Finally, when the conversation threatened more information than he was comfortable knowing, he ended the meeting.
“I’ll expect to see you and your respective partners at my home one week from this Saturday. DiNozzo’s security check should be complete by then and well,” George looked down at his desk and again cleared his throat, “I would appreciate meeting both him and Gibbs.”
“Want to check our boys out? Place your seal of approval on ‘em, is that it?” O'Neill questioned.
“Something like that, yes,” George gruffly answered. It was hell being a father figure to his men.
Standing, he ignored Teal'c’s knowing lift of the eyebrow and escorted both to the door. “I’ll see the two of you at this afternoon’s briefing. Colonel Cameron Mitchell has agreed to take your place, Jack, and will be meeting with you and the other members of your team later today. I expect you to extend the utmost respect and courtesy to the man.”
O'Neill offered a lazy, somewhat insolent, salute of compliance. “Sir, I’m offended you would suggest such a thing. When have I not been respectful and courteous to others?”
George was ready with an immediate comeback but was beaten to the punch by Teal'c.
“There are not enough hours left in this day for an accounting of all such occurrences,” the Jaffa warrior intoned. “I will, however, do my best to refresh your memory with the most recent ones. For instance, do you not recall your conversation with Senator Kinsey on the subject of your incarceration for the . . . .”
George shook his head as he watched the two arguing men disappear down the corridor. Maybe he wasn’t going to miss Jack as much as he originally thought he was.
He grinned.
Of course he was.
End of chapter 14
Disclaimer: This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
Introductions, Chapter 15 by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Frowning with concern, Jack watched as Jethro literally tore his gaze from their young lover. He understood the pain his man was feeling. It was the same pain clawing at his own heart.
Introductions 15
by
Angelise
+++++++
“Tell me this is the last frickin’ box,” Jack insisted. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glanced at the man standing inside the U-haul’s crowded interior. The answer he got was a beguiling grin that promised not only more pain but also a hint of sinful pleasure. It did the trick. “Okay, tell me this is the second to last frickin’ box,” he grumbled.
Jack did nothing to silence the moan of gratitude that rose to his lips when Tony, after jumping to the ground, went immediately to work on kneading the soreness from his shoulders. Heaven, pure heaven.
“You’re gonna miss this, aren’t you?” Tony asked.
Ignoring the question and the reason behind it, Jack eyed the nearly full moving van with a disapproving scowl. “I swear, Tony, not even Jethro and I combined have as much crap as you do. How in the world did you accumulate all this stuff?”
“Aw, come on, Jack,” his youngest lover expertly wheedled. “You can handle a couple more boxes, can’t you?”
Sharp teeth took possession of his left ear lobe and nibbled. Jack surrendered without protest. “Okay, okay,” he muttered before good-naturedly swatting at the mouth sucking on his ear. “Quit slobberin’ all over me, will ya?”
The blinding bright smile that greeted his acquiescent caused the fist of emotion holding his heart hostage to tighten that much more. God, he was going to miss that smile.
“Thanks, babe,” Tony said as they headed back toward his apartment. “I don’t care what Jethro said about you being too old and decrepit now that you’re retired. I knew you could handle the job.”
Grabbing not one but two boxes, Jack glared in the direction of the spare bedroom where Jethro was currently packing the last of Tony’s extensive movie collection. “Too old? I’ll show you too old.” He stomped out the door and strode toward the U-haul like he was carrying nothing heavier than a feather. It wasn’t until he was sure he was out of sight that he let go of the first box with a muted groan of relief.
“Shit, what’s in these? Bricks?” Praying there hadn’t been anything breakable in the box he’d dumped, he hurriedly sidestepped it and carried the remaining one to the waiting trailer. He was on his way back but stopped short when he found his grinning lover standing next to the abandoned box. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll wipe that grin off your face,” he warned.
Jethro set his noticeably larger carton on the ground next to Jack’s. “And if I don’t?” he countered with another shit-eating grin.
“I’ll wipe it off for you,” Jack answered.
“Bring it on, Space Jockey.”
Disregarding his aching back and knees, Jack tackled Jethro to the ground and expertly carried through on his threat. He was still in the process of reprimanding one pair of impudent lips when a rather loud, disgusted snort interrupted him.
“Come on, guys. You just finished fucking your brains out not one hour ago. Can’t you put a lid on it until we finish?” Tony lightly slapped the back of Jack’s head before clambering over them. “And you complain about me and Teal'c fucking all the time. Jesus Pete.”
Jack threw an arm around Jethro’s shoulders once his man was sitting bedside him on the ground. “I’m beginning to think I won’t miss him as much as I thought I would.” He rubbed a hand up and down a back that was suddenly as rigid as steel. “Sure as hell won’t miss that sassy mouth of his.”
Captured by the sexy sway of Tony’s lean hips, it was several seconds before he realized Jethro hadn’t uttered a word. Tilting his head to the side, he closely examined his silent lover and discovered such a look of inconsolable longing that it nearly broke his heart.
“Jethro,” he whispered, “it’s not like you’re never gonna see him again. We’ll visit often, I promise.” Uninterrupted silence was his only answer, and Jack quickly bestowed an understanding kiss on the tightly clenched jaw digging into his shoulder. “I’m gonna miss him, too, despite all that crap I just spouted.”
Without warning Jethro turned and grabbed him by the arms. Jack grunted in pain when his arthritic back hit the hard dirt. Opening his mouth to complain about the rough handling, he snapped it shut the second he caught sight of Jethro’s eyes. His man was suffering in the worst way, and there was nothing he could do or say that would ease the pain of losing the youngest member of their foursome. Holding his peace, he willingly submitted to the desperate kisses stealing the air from his lungs.
Clearly they weren’t actually losing Tony, but damn, it sure as hell felt like they were. What made it even worse was the fact that Jethro, more so than himself, was having a hard time adjusting to the new dynamics of their relationship. This bothered Jack on a level he wasn’t quite ready to examine, and therefore, he ignored it.
Opening his eyes briefly, he glanced at Jethro. As predicted, his lover had been beyond pissed when informed of the President’s decision to deny Teal'c’s request to relocate. Deciding it would be best to present the news in person, he’d grabbed a seat on a military transport loaded with a contingent of Marines headed for Iraq. He’d reached D.C. during the wee hours of the morning and was somewhat hurt, not to mention surprised, when Jethro left his weary ass standing in the kitchen with an ice cold beer in one hand and a hot Philly cheese sandwich in the other. By the time he got rid of his early breakfast and made it to the back door, all that remained to be seen of Jethro’s SUV were its red tail lights fading into the darkness. Two hours had passed when the distinctive sounds of destruction coming from Jethro’s workshop alerted him to his man’s return. He’d raced across the yard and stood in the shop’s doorway, his mouth hanging open in utter disbelief.
Jethro was destroying his beloved boat.
Wisely, he did nothing to halt the destruction. He’d taken a seat on a nearby bench and silently watched as blow after blow of a never before seen sledgehammer slammed into the boat’s defenseless hull. Once the vessel was beyond demolished, he carefully pried the sledgehammer free and held Jethro in his arms until the man’s anger gave way to exhaustion. It had been one of the longest nights of his life.
Returning his thoughts to the matter at hand, he ripped his mouth free and sucked in a breath of much needed air. “We’re gonna get through this. I promise.”
Jethro’s answer was to roll off him, leaving Jack staring at the cloudless sky above. It had only been a week since the official start of his retirement and already he was wondering how he and Jethro were going to survive each other without Tony as their personal buffer. Jethro wasn’t the most talkative person on a good day. With Tony moving to Colorado, his lover had shut down, closed off in a major way. So much so that it was seriously beginning to worry him.
Jack heaved a heavy sigh. Obviously his mind was ready to face the problem even if his heart wasn’t.
Okay, he loved Jethro, that went without saying. Another undisputable fact was that Jethro loved Tony. Now, he was pretty sure that love didn’t exceed the love Jethro had for him, but it was a close second, a damn close second. In fact, he fully believed Jethro would have no problem moving on with Tony if for some reason he was eliminated from the picture. That particular truth didn’t exactly sit well with him, but what could he do? Jethro loved Tony, plain and simple.
And *that* was the entire crux of the problem. Tony was leaving them, leaving Jethro. Moving to Colorado to be with Teal'c, not them, not Jethro. It had to hurt. Hell, he knew it hurt. Hurt like being hit in the heart by a fucking staff weapon. How did someone recover from that?
Jack shifted his gaze to Jethro. “Hey, tell you what,” he offered impulsively. “Tonight I’ll get on the horn with Hammond and see if there are any military flights to Colorado scheduled for next weekend. We can postpone that fishing trip I had planned for the two of us and instead, go see our boys. Is that soon enough?” Taking the hand extended to him, he allowed Jethro to pull him to his feet. A quick nod of the head and squeeze of his fingers told him his proposal had been duly noted and accepted. “Okay, then. That’s settled. Gratuitous sex instead of smelly fish. Sounds like a perfect trade, if you ask me.”
Hiding his own disappointment -- that of saying good-bye to both Tony *and* the fishing trip to end all fishing trips, he leaned over to collect the box he’d dropped earlier. Before his hands could connect with it, he was spun around and thoroughly kissed.
“I know what you’re doing and . . . .” Staring straight at him, Jethro smiled then lowered his voice to a husky whisper. “I love you, Jack O'Neill.”
“Yeah, well . . . .” Jack acknowledged the sentiment by briefly touching his forehead to that of Jethro’s. “Same here, Devil Dog.”
“I swear if you guys don’t stop sucking face, I’m gonna call Teal'c and have him read you the riot act.” Tony shoved Jethro’s box at him. “There’s still several in the living room. Once we get those loaded, we can head over to the storage unit I’ve been renting and collect the rest of my stuff.”
“Did he say, the ‘rest of his stuff?’” Groaning at the thought of more back-breaking work, Jack turned to his lover, and, as it had been for the last couple of days, found Jethro staring after Tony as if it were for the very last time.
“Hey.” He tapped his man on the arm. “Why don’t you go grab us some water while I start hauling those boxes outside. Tony looks like he could do with something wet and cold.”
Frowning with concern, he watched as Jethro literally tore his gaze from Tony’s retreating form. He understood the pain his man was feeling. It was the same pain clawing at his own heart. “I know it won’t change things but . . . .” Instead of heading inside as promised, he slipped around to the back of the apartment complex and pulled out his cellphone. He dialed a number known only to himself and three others.
“This is Teal'c. State your business.”
Jack grinned. “Can’t you say hello like everybody else,” he questioned his dark-skinned lover.
“You have interrupted my hour of meditation, O'Neill. Do you have a matter of importance to discuss or are you calling to once again protest the excessive amount of physical labor my mate is forcing you to endure?”
Unconsciously, Jack straightened his back and puffed out his chest. “I’ll have you know I’ve carried more than my share of boxes. So there.”
“And why have you carried more than your share? Is your mate not also assisting?”
He rubbed a hand over his face. “Well, you see, that’s why I’m calling. Jethro’s having a bit of a problem concentrating on the task at hand.”
“And why is that?” Teal'c inquired.
“Teal'c, you know I wouldn’t ask this, but,” Jack spared a second to sneak a peek around the corner of the building. “Look, Jethro’s all tied up in knots over Tony leaving and . . . .” Bracing his back against the sun-baked brick wall, he took a moment to gather his thoughts. His idea was somewhat asinine, but what the hell. If it made Jethro happy, that’s all that mattered.
“Look, I know Tony’s your mate and Jethro’s mine, but do you think . . . .” He took a deep breath before rushing out his next words. “Woulditbeokayforthefourofustogetmarried?”
Crossing his fingers, he waited out the silence that followed his insane request. It extended way beyond the limits of his patience, leading him to actually check his phone to make sure Teal'c hadn’t broken the connection.
“Yo, Teal'c? You still there?” Jack again glanced around the corner of the building. He jerked his head back when he saw Tony looking in his direction. “Come on, buddy. Time’s a wastin.’ Yay or nay. Can Jethro marry Tony? Me marry you and vice versa?”
“O'Neill, I---”
“Please, Teal'c,” he unashamedly begged. “My man’s hurting big time. Hurtin’ ‘cause he thinks he’s losing Tony for good. I know that’s not the case but try explaining that to one stubborn Marine.” He glanced down at the commitment band Jethro had placed on his left wrist months ago. “We care for each other big time, right? Let’s make it official.” A rueful smile slipped out. “Well, as official as official can be considering there’s not a single state in the Union that recognizes four guys tying the knot.”
Another quick peek revealed a now angry-looking Tony standing in the same spot as earlier. “Whaddaya say, Teal'c?” he asked again. “It’ll mean the world to Jethro. You know how much he loves Tony. And you, too, of course,” he hurriedly added. “Say it’s okay, please? I don’t like seeing him this way. It hurts, man, really hurts.”
Jack snapped his mouth shut before confessing exactly why Jethro’s tormented fixation on Tony leaving hurt him so much. This wasn’t about him. It was about his lover.
“Jack? What in God’s name are you doing back there?”
Tony’s voice had him racing toward the other side of the building, and he narrowly missed colliding with the meter man rounding the corner at the same time he was. Hidden from sight again, he tucked the phone beneath his ear then leaned over and balanced his hands on his knees. “Come on, Teal'c,” he urged between sucking in several deep breaths. “I really need an answer.”
“Who are you talking to?”
Jack glanced over his shoulder and discovered Tony standing directly behind him. “Just checking the forecast,” he lied. “If it’s going to start raining soon, we need to---”Before he could finish his statement Tony had snatched the cellphone from his hand. “Hey, give that back!” he demanded.
Tony, of course, disobeyed the direct order. Holding the phone to his mouth, he loudly stated, “I don’t care who this is, but Jack is a busy boy right now and cannot come out to play. If you have a prob--- Teal'c? Lovebuns, is that you?”
Moving a few steps away, Tony cradled the phone against his ear and softly crooned, “Miss you, Big Guy. Miss you so much, the second I get my hands on that delectable body of yours I’m gonna---huh?” Tony glanced sideways, his expressive eyes going wide. “Excuse me? Did I hear you right? You want us to---what?”
Blatantly eavesdropping, Jack moved closer. Tony caught him in the act and turned his back on him.
“Yes, Teal'c,” he continued, “you know I love him. I love ‘em both.” Tony nodded his head. “Uh huh. It would prove that, without a doubt. But, Sweetness, is this something you want to do or did Jack talk you into it?”
Tony turned, allowing Jack to finally see the anguish clouding his beautiful eyes.
“I know Jethro’s hurting,” he gruffly confessed to both his lovers. “I’m hurting, too. In fact, to be honest, I don’t know how I’m gonna handle not seeing Jethro at work every day.”
Sensing Tony was about to give into the emotions threatening his control, Jack pulled him into his arms and squeezed the back of his neck while soothing his forehead with a gentle kiss. “We’re gonna get through this,” he murmured to him, repeating the words he’d spoken earlier to Jethro.
Tony acknowledged his promise with a nod. He then returned the kiss offered to him before resuming his conversation with Teal'c. “Yeah, Jack is still here. Yeah, that’s him you hear kissing me.”
Tony brushed his fingers along the curve of Jack’s cheek, smiling crookedly when one finger was captured and playfully nipped. “Okay, tell me again. Tell me you’re good with this. Tell me this won’t change what we have. If there’s a chance, even a remote chance, then I say, thanks but no thanks. I love you, Big Guy, and there’s no way in hell I’d jeopardize our relationship. Not even for Jethro, believe it or not.”
Jack was caught by surprise when Tony leaned forward and licked at the sweat beading in the hollow at the base of his throat. The unexpected caress was repeated, and he couldn’t help but moan in response. Damn, he was gonna miss moments like this.
Of course, there were a whole lot more he was going to miss -- like Tony cuddling with him and Jethro on the couch eating popcorn and watching some old black and white movie. Or Tony bumping butts with the two of them in the kitchen as they tried, unsuccessfully, to duplicate one of Rachel Ray’s ‘30 minutes or less’ meals. Or better yet -- Jack grinned -- Tony blowing both him and Jethro as they soaked in the new jacuzzi after a hard day’s work on the new boat.
Oh yeah. He was definitely going to miss moments like that.
“Say it again, Big Guy. I didn’t hear you.”
The evil smile taking shape on Tony’s face halted all wandering thoughts. Jack recognized that smile. It meant trouble, trouble for him and him only. “What?” he worriedly asked. “What’s Teal'c saying?”
Tony pulled free and walked in a circle, critically eyeing him up and down. “Yeah, I agree. But not white. Jack is definitely not virgin material.”
Jack grabbed his phone back and yelled at his soon-to-be ex-friend and ex-lover. “I am NOT wearing a wedding gown! Put that thought right out of your head this instant, you hear?” He eyed the smirking man next to him. Tony was pretending to be a bride walking down the aisle. “Ya think? Seriously, if you want my opinion, Tony’s got the better figure of the two. Jethro’s all bone and muscle. Tony’s got curves. He’d look much better in a gown. In fact, I’d go as far to say he’d . . . Quit that!”
Jack put Tony in a headlock to keep him from snatching the phone out of his hand a second time. “Well, that’s something you and he will have to decide,” he answered Teal'c. “Me and Jethro will either wear our dress uniforms or tuxes. I’ll have to check with him and see what he says.” His smile slipped into a frown. “No, I don’t think it will cause a fashion faux pas if we’re not all dressed in robes. Yes, it would be more comfortable, but . . . huh?” He swallowed the lump of lust that suddenly threatened to choke him. “Yeah, I’m listening, and yeah, I agree it would be sexy as hell knowing Jethro was butt-naked under his robe, but, Teal'c, it ain’t happening. Listen to my voice, Big Guy. IT AIN’T HAPPENIN.’ Ya hear me? Everybody’s wearing clothes and that means underwear. Are we clear on this? No dicks waving in the wind. Not yours, not Tony’s. Nobody’s. Okay? Well, that’s just tough. Take it up with Jethro. He’ll say the same thing.”
Rolling his eyes, Jack let go of Tony so that he could make the ‘blah, blah, talk-all-you-want, ‘cause I ain’t listening’ sign with his hand. Teal'c wanted them to all wear desert robes for the ceremony. No way in hell was he standing before God and friends in a scratchy old robe wearing absolutely nothing underneath. Be his luck some rogue wind would appear, snatch up their robes and expose their Johnson’s to everyone.
“Teal'c! Would you quit with the robes? Me and Jethro are wearing suits. End of discussion.”
He handed his phone to Tony. “See if you can talk some sense into that thick skull of his, will ya?”
Tony stared at him with a strange look on his face. “Teal'c wants us to wear robes? Wear robes and nothing else?” He glanced down at the phone he held in his hand. “You know, Jack, I had this dream and in that dream me and Teal'c were wear---”
Jack didn’t wait around to hear the rest of the story. He wasn’t doing it. No way, no how. “Comedians,” he muttered. “I’m surrounded by fucking comedians.”
Catching sight of his impatiently waiting lover, Jack hustled forward. He figured if they hurried there’d be just enough time left for him to rustle up a romantic dinner for three. There were steaks in the fridge, not to mention he was sure he’d seen a bottle of red wine lurking somewhere in the depths of Jethro’s pantry.
He rubbed his hands together. That was the ticket. He’d wine and dine Jethro and Tony, then officially propose. Hell, he’d even go as far as getting Teal'c on the speakerphone so that he could make it an honest-to-God proposal to all.
Kneeling down for another box, he grabbed at his aching knees and wondered if his lovers would hold it against him if he proposed standing up.
He grinned.
Of course not.
He was Jack O'Neill, the man of their dreams.
End of Chapter 15
Disclaimer: This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
Introductions -- the Final chapter by angelise7
Author's Notes:
Jack moved into the embrace offered to him. “Are we making a mistake?” Resting his head on Teal'c’s broad shoulders, he posed another question, “Is Jethro marrying Tony gonna come back and bite us in the butt like that Maybourne thing?”
Introductions, The Final Chapter
by
Angelise
+++++++
“If you do not cease your movements,” Teal'c warned, “I will have no choice but to call for Gibbs.”
Jack grimaced slightly when his hand was caught in a vice and forcibly returned to his side. The pain didn’t deter him for one second. He reached up again and promptly wished he hadn’t. Going to the hospital to have broken fingers set was definitely not on his list of things to do.
“Lighten up, will ya?” he groused.
Teal'c did no such thing. In fact, he tightened his grip on Jack’s hand even more. “Do I need to remind you of the Earth customs associated with this day? One in particular refers to the bestowing of bad luck. I do not wish to confer such hardship upon you, but I will if you do not remain motionless.”
Jack continued to nervously fidget even after being cautioned by a menacing growl.
“O'Neill!”
Teal'c’s tone of voice indicated a high level of frustration, but Jack ignored it. His mind was busy with other matters, such as getting through the day without looking like some jealous old coot.
“O'Neill. You are behaving as if you have never done this before, and I know that is not the case.” Moving to the door that led to the hallway, Teal’c calmly stated, “I will offer you my assistance one last time. If you refuse, I will not be held responsible for any misfortune that may befall you and your mate.”
“For Christ’s sake, Teal'c. Get your ass back over here and help me with this fucking noose.” Closing his eyes, Jack mentally commanded himself to calm down. Teal'c was right. It’s not like he hadn’t done the wedding thing before. Of course, his one and only walk down the aisle had been with a woman and not with three men. There was a slight if not *considerable* difference, and that, along with his existing ‘Jethro’ issues was more than enough to keep his nerves on edge.
He looked across the room at his current roommate. It had been Tony’s brilliant or not so brilliant idea to pair off as couples before the wedding. And no, they couldn’t pair off with their chosen mate. Where would the fun be in that? To make things even worse, Tony’d insisted they spend the night and the following day with their wedding cohort. Naturally, *he* volunteered to go with Jethro, leaving one somewhat disgruntled Jaffa and one arthritic retiree sulking on the couch.
Jack snorted.
Like he wasn’t as grumpy if not grumpier than Teal'c. It had hurt like hell when Jethro eagerly followed after Tony upon their arrival at Hammond’s home last evening. Jack had planned to take his future husband on a romantic moonlit stroll after supper but had ended up playing poker with Hammond and Teal'c for the majority of the night. Thoughts of what Tony and Jethro could be and, no doubt, were doing not only put him in a rotten mood but distracted him in such a way that had him thankful they’d been playing for toothpicks instead of money. With his focus firmly fixated on the duo upstairs, he would have ended up owing Hammond the shirt off his back, not to mention, his slacks, underwear, socks and shoes.
Speaking of shirts---
Jack pulled at his shirt’s starched collar with one hand while using the other to tug on the constricting cummerbund circling his waist. Why he’d chosen to wear a monkey suit was still up for debate, but he was pretty sure it was all Jethro’s fault. If his man hadn’t drooled so much over the photos of him playing best man for one of his friends, he’d be wearing his dress blues and feeling much more relaxed.
Jack grimaced. Well, as relaxed as relaxed could be considering he was about to tie the knot three times over.
He glanced at his comfortably attired companion and again swore he’d choke to death first before confessing how much he hated his tux. His dark-skinned, soon-to-be husband would never in a million years let him live down the fact that he’d refused to wear one of the ultra soft, super comfy robes brought through the gate by Bra’tac.
Another grimace made an appearance on his face. To be honest, the damn thing made him look like Obi Wan Kenobi from Star Wars -- the old guy, not the young one. And since he was already competing with Tony for Jethro’s affection, wearing something that drew attention to his advanced age was not the way to go.
Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This day was getting worse by the minute.
Turning his attention to Teal'c, he begrudgingly mumbled his request. “Would you please help me with this tie?”
“I shall assist you as requested,” Teal'c answered. Turning around, he stared at Jack and . . . smirked.
Jack flipped him the bird before again wrestling with the uncooperative ends of the tie hanging from his neck. “Tell me again why we’re doing this.”
Large hands circled his throat then shifted so that they could grasp his shoulders. Jack dropped his arms and leaned against the solid wall of muscles behind him. He’d go to his grave before confessing how much he enjoyed having a lover who was larger than himself.
Realizing his companion had spoken to him during his moment of distraction, he asked, “Huh? What did you say?”
Teal'c eased him around and repeated, “We are doing this because you proposed an official union between the four of us.”
Jack closed his eyes when Teal'c tilted his head back and kissed him lightly on the lips.
“We are doing this,” the Jaffa warrior continued, “because you love your mate and wish to reassure him of his place in Tony’s life. You are a generous man, Jack O'Neill. Not many would be willing to make such a sacrifice.”
Jack moved into the embrace offered to him. “Are we making a mistake?” Resting his head on Teal'c’s broad shoulders, he posed another question, “Is Jethro marrying Tony gonna come back and bite us in the butt like that Maybourne thing?”
Pulling away abruptly, he walked over to the nearest window in the master bedroom and glanced outside. He could see Hammond, along with Bra’tac and Jacob Carter, gathered around the limo that would take the four of them to the hotel they’d chosen to spend their first night at as a married foursome. Great, all the fathers were present and accounted for. Now, if only Daniel were here, it would be---
Jack shook his head. Why was he thinking of Daniel? It certainly wasn’t the place nor the time for painful memories such as that.
Looking past the three men, he caught sight of the group from Jethro’s neck of the woods. Ducky was leading the way with that Goth chick holding tight to his arm.
Jack frowned. He still hadn’t figured out the connection between Abby and his lover. Had Abby taken the place of the daughter Jethro had lost, or was it something else? Not that it mattered. The girl simply adored Jethro, not to mention Tony. So much so that she hadn’t minced words when expressing her opinion why the two NCIS agents should be in an exclusive relationship with each other instead of with him and Teal'c. Her uncalled-for declaration had only added fuel to his own growing insecurity.
Glancing over his shoulder, he briefly made eye contact with Teal'c.
“As you know, in the beginning,” he admitted, “it was all about sex, all about fucking with me and Jethro. Add to that the challenge of forcing him to admit he was gay, and . . . .” He allowed a small grin to slip free. “Jethro’s one stubborn bastard. It took a lot of convincing, if you get my drift.”
“I concur,” Teal'c agreed. “Gibbs is a tenacious man.”
“Yeah, well,” Jack continued, “then there was you and Tony. I finally get Jethro in my bed and you two show up. Not that it was a bad thing,” he rushed out, hoping to halt the formidable frown forming on Teal'c’s face. “Hell, no. Not only did it mean more asses for me to fuck, but it also meant I got to watch Jethro being nailed to the mattress by someone other than myself. A show worth the price of admission, believe you me.”
He looked down at the floor and again admitted, “Yep, in the beginning it was all about sex and sex and more sex.”
“What changed?”
“Everything.” Keeping his eyes glued to the carpet, Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “All of a sudden our weekends together weren’t just about feeding the beast. Suddenly, and I know this sounds Hallmark card corny, but suddenly, it was about feeding the heart, my heart specifically. Jethro was more than just a great fuck; he was a possibility. Ya know, someone to share my life with? I started thinking beyond what our plans were for the ‘next’ weekend. I started thinking about . . . hell, I started thinking about forever.”
He finally risked a glance at his friend. “Now I’m pretty certain Jethro wants the same thing. I’m just not sure he wants it with only me, myself and I. Tony’s become a major part of the equation. You know it, and I know it. And Jethro’s recent behavior proves it. He loves the boy.”
Jack braced his hands against the window frame and glanced back outside. There was no one to be seen now. Everyone had moved inside and were, no doubt, waiting for them to come downstairs. It was now or never. He straightened his shoulders.
“So, Big Guy, I’m asking again. Are we making a mistake? Are we risking our hearts by allowing these two to marry each other?”
One look at Teal'c’s face and Jack could tell his friend was carefully considering his reply. He waited as patiently as he could.
“Yes,” Teal'c began a moment later, “Gibbs is in love with my mate. I agree with your assessment of the situation. There is a very strong bond between those two men. But as strong as that bond may be, it is secondary to the bond you share with Gibbs and to the one I share with Tony. Tony is my mate. He has sworn his heart to me. Gibbs has done the same with you, O'Neill. You must trust him.”
“But what if you’re wrong,” Jack argued. “What if *their* bond is stronger? I don’t know about you but losing Jethro would hurt as bad if not worse than when I lost my son.” Hanging his head, he clenched his hands into fists to keep them from shaking. “Don’t know if I could handle going through that kind of pain again.”
“You will not have to do so, my future mate,” was whispered in his ear.
Jack watched in amazement as Teal'c knelt on one knee before him. The Jaffa then claimed one of his hands and held it to his chest.
“I will not abandon you,” Teal'c promised. “Furthermore, I do not believe Jethro will abandon you. He is an honorable man. He has repeatedly demonstrated his affection for you, and today will publicly declare his commitment.” Teal’c solemnly nodded his head. “Tony and I will also declare our commitment to you this day.” Rising to his feet, he again pulled Jack into a tight embrace. “You are loved, Jack O'Neill. Do not fear the future. You will face it with all three of us at your side.”
Embarrassed by his lack of confidence but unwilling to abandon the security of not only Teal'c’s embrace but also his promises, Jack buried his face in the soft material covering his friend’s muscular chest. Teal'c was right. He had to trust in Jethro’s love.
“How did you get so wise?” he asked a moment later.
“You may thank Master Bra’tac for my wisdom,” Teal'c acknowledged with a slight nod.
Jack slipped his hands inside the robe’s neckline and explored every inch of skin he could reach. “I’d rather thank you.” Several minutes passed as he expressed his appreciation using his body instead of words. Teal'c graciously accepted his gratitude by marking the side of his neck with a sizeable love bite.
“Yeah, again. Harder,” Jack murmured. Moving closer, he rubbed up against Teal'c’s lower torso. “What the hell?” He immediately halted his movements and frowned when he detected the blatant absence of something. “Please tell me you’re wearing underwear,” he growled.
Teal'c grabbed him by the ass and pressed their groins together.
Jack groaned. “Geese Louise, Teal'c. Don’t I have enough to worry about without this?”
“At least I have not . . . .” Teal'c lowered his head and whispered in Jack’s ear.
Jack stared back as if the man had grown a second head. “What! No way. Tell me you’re joking.”
Teal'c raised an eyebrow, daring him to doubt his word.
“A tattoo?” he asked incredulously.
“To commemorate our union,” Teal'c clarified.
“A tattoo of us? Our faces? On his ass?” Taking a step back, Jack glared at his friend. “I swear if anybody but the three of us get a gander at that thing, I’m gonna . . . .”
Wisely ignoring the sly grin on Teal'c’s face, he deftly maneuvered his tie into the proper configuration. Once finished, he grabbed for the rings he needed to hand off to Sam and headed for the door. “Comedians. I’m marrying a bunch of fucking comedians.”
Looking over his shoulder, he sarcastically asked, “Am I a lucky bastard or what?”
+++++++
“You know why Jack proposed, right?”
Tony exited the guest bathroom and walked over to the window Jethro was standing in front of. It was the same one he’d cracked open earlier during the day, and now he was sorry he’d done so. Frigid air was pouring in, pouring in and sneaking right up under his robe.
“Close that window, will ya?” he forced past his chattering teeth.
Tony shook his arms and legs then stomped his bare feet. Freezing his dick off was not part of the plan when he’d agreed with Teal'c’s suggestion to attend their marriage wearing nothing but a robe and a smile.
Correction. A robe, a smile *and* one super-fine tattoo featuring the faces of his three lovers. Tony chuckled. Jack would have a stroke if he knew about the tattoo. Have a stroke, and then probably shoot him on sight. The guy was such an old fart, sometimes.
Noting the window was still open, he slammed it shut. “Jethro?” He glanced at his silent companion. “You know I love you, right? And that me moving here to Colorado won’t change that one iota.”
Tony turned away from the window and went to check his appearance in the mirror. “Jack seems to think you don’t know that, and that us, meaning you and me, marrying each other will prove my love to you. If you ask me, I think he’s nuts. I know I love you. I know I love him, and I *definitely* know I love Teal'c. The same is true for you guys loving me. Why Jack needs proof is beyond me.”
Brushing an errant strand of hair back in place, Tony grinned at his reflection. “Not that I’m complaining. Did you get a look at the load of presents we got? Not to mention the wedding cake?” He rubbed his stomach. “Can’t wait for Teal'c to shove a piece of that sugary delight in my mouth.”
Tony swatted at a speck of dirt on his robe and groaned when his hand brushed against the DiNozzo family jewels. “Actually, I can’t wait for Teal'c to shove something a whole lot more substantial in my . . . Jethro?”
His former boss’ swift and unexpected opening of the bedroom door created another breeze that unerringly found its way inside his robe. It was not a pleasant feeling in any way, shape or form.
“Maybe I should rethink this ‘no underwear’ thing.” He headed toward the bed where his overnight bag was stashed. “How ‘bout a thong? It is the dead of winter, you know, and the boys need to be at their best if they’re expected to perform later tonight.” With a pat to his crotch, he dug out a dark purple-colored scrap of material. “Yep, better safe than sorry is what my grand-daddy used to say.” Pulling on the miniscule underwear, he moaned in appreciation. There was nothing like silk, especially when it was wrapped around his boys.
“Do I look good or what?” Taking a moment to examine his physique in front of the mirror, Tony lifted the robe all the way to his chin. He critiqued his thin frame, his manly package and . . . twisting around, he checked out the new tattoo. “Okay, I could do with a few more pounds but who’s complaining. Not Teal'c. He loves my skinny ass. Loves nailing it and rimming it and . . . .”
Tony was still working on his list as he made his way downstairs. In his excitement to locate his ass-loving mate he completely forgot the somewhat translucent property of the robe he was wearing. He would not, however, forget the shocked expressions on the faces of his friends when he greeted them in the sun-drenched room reserved for the marriage ceremony.
+++++++
“Here,” Jack instructed, “just put them on your fingers in order of our ages. Teal'c first, then me, then Jethro and then Tony.”
He was in the process of slipping the four wedding bands on Sam’s fingers when Jethro entered the study. His man had elected to wear his dress uniform, and damn if he didn’t look good. Hell, Jethro looked better than good, and Jack could only hope that Tony would be way too fixated on Teal'c to notice. It was going to be hard enough watching Tony put a wedding band on Jethro’s finger. He didn’t know if he could handle watching the younger man put the moves on his lover. Not today. Not on their wedding day.
He smiled in Jethro’s direction. “Hey, according to the Big Guy, you shouldn’t be in here. It’s bad luck for you to see me, remember?”
Jethro nodded at Samantha Carter. “Yeah? Well, according to Tony, the only reason you proposed marriage is because you think I’m gonna go off the deep end now that he’s living here on a permanent basis. Who’s right? Tony or Teal'c?”
Jack made like a statue.
“Uh, fellas?” Sam collected the rings and slowly backed away. “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?”
Neither Jack nor Jethro paid any attention to her hasty retreat.
“Who said anything about you going off the deep end?” Shaking loose the sudden tenseness in his shoulders, Jack reached for his chokehold of a tie then stopped when the image of an unhappy Teal'c popped into his head. “Don’t listen to Tony. That run-in with the plague still has his gray matter scrambled.”
Carefully, one step at a time, he inched away from his lover. He was almost to the door when a hand appeared out of nowhere and slammed it shut.
“Jack, do you really think I love Tony more than you?” Jethro gripped him by the arm and spun him around so that they stood face to face. “I’m listening, Fly Boy. Spill it.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Of course, I think you love Tony more than me.” Jethro’s stunned expression alerted him to the unconscious error of his words. “I mean, don’t! Of course I *don’t* think you love Tony more than me. That’s absolutely asinine. Why would you even think I would think such a thought?”
For a moment he considered what he’d just said, then shook his head. “You know what I mean.” Pulling his arm free, he walked toward the large desk that dominated the room and drummed his fingers against its hard surface “I know you love me. Just like I know you love Tony and Teal'c. This marriage thing is for all of us.”
“Look at me, Jack.”
He tried, he really tried to ignore the quietly spoken request, but it was useless. He was a sucker for men in uniform, and the best damn looking Marine in the entire universe was standing less than a foot away. Of course he turned around and looked.
Jethro took hold of his left hand, lifted it to his mouth and kissed its palm. “I’m not gonna lie to you, Jack. I love Tony and will miss him like hell. He’s in here,” his lover explained, pointing to his heart. “But, and I need you to hear this, Tony only occupies a small corner of my heart. Teal'c’s got a spot, too, but the majority . . . .”
Jethro let go of his hand and slid his arms around his waist, pulling Jack as close as possible. “The other 99.99% belongs to you. And if that’s not enough, then consider this.”
Jack shuddered when Jethro nudged the super-sensitive spot beneath his left ear. “Nobody,” his man whispered, “nobody but Jack O'Neill has complete and utter possession of my soul.”
The words went straight to his heart, healing the wound that had re-opened the day Jethro confessed to Tony how hurt he’d been by Jack’s deception. The wound had festered over time, slowly eroding his confidence in Jethro’s love. When faced with his lover’s gut-wrenching reaction to the news of Tony leaving, he’d actually speculated whether his love would be enough to fill the gap left vacant by their young lover.
Jack looked straight into Jethro’s clear blue eyes. Maybe his worrying had been for nothing. Maybe his love was enough. Maybe Jethro wouldn’t leave him like Daniel had. Maybe forever with Jethro meant exactly that, forever. Maybe---
Jethro claimed possession of his lips and kissed the very breath out of him. More kisses, more promises, more *everything* followed, leaving Jack winded and thoroughly convinced
Okay, point taken. His love was enough, more than enough for his soon-to-be husband.
+++++++
Shaking his head in disgust, George Hammond surveyed the disaster that had once been his living room. Why in God’s name had he volunteered his home for the wedding? Had he lost his mind? Not only would he be left with an unbelievable mess to clean up, but if the powers to be ever got wind of the ceremony --- George halted that thought dead in its tracks and reached for the nearest clutter of beer bottles. It was water under the bridge, anyway. Damage done.
“Shoot! Damn it, shoot!”
Leaving the bottles for later, he turned and closely examined the four men clustered around the large screen TV cheering on the town’s local hockey team.
The ceremony had basically gone off without a hitch. Of course there was the moment at the altar when DiNozzo had acted somewhat the fool, whispering in O'Neill’s ear while suggestively rubbing his own behind. A slap to the head by none other than Teal'c had put a halt to that silliness. There was also the constant, not to mention, irritating as hell, sniffling from that kid dressed in black. It was quite obvious the girl did not like O'Neill and that in itself did not endear her to George. He’d shown no remorse when, after turning around in his seat, he’d pinned her with his most intimidating glare. It had done the trick, allowing the remainder of the ceremony to proceed without further commotion.
The same could not be said for the rest of the day. DiNozzo must have been high on something, whether it be alcohol or simple joy. The man was constantly in motion, moving from one husband to the next, hugging and kissing and chattering at the speed of light. Gibbs and Teal'c had simply tolerated DiNozzo’s enthusiasm, returning all kisses and hugs with indulgent smiles. O'Neill, on the other hand, had taken the boy to task for his extreme exuberance. The two had disappeared inside the study for nearly a half hour, and upon rejoining the festivities, George had noted two things about the pair -- O'Neill’s tell-tale swagger and DiNozzo’s besotted grin and calmer demeanor.
He again focused his attention on the happily married foursome. He might not understand the dynamics of their relationship, but he did understand the underlying reason. Love, pure and simple love. O'Neill loved Gibbs and vice versa. The same could be said for DiNozzo and Teal'c.
Now, the love between Jack and Teal'c and Gibbs and DiNozzo might not be as profound or as enduring, but the fact remained, the men did seriously care for each other. And in his book, that was as good a starting place as any to build a relationship upon.
Collecting an unopened bottle of beer, George toasted the couples. “May the God of this universe grant you a lifetime of happiness, gentlemen.”
“General Hammond, sir, do you think they would consider adding a fifth person to the mix?”
George turned and stared open-mouthed at Jonas Quinn. A fifth? Fifth as in a fivesome? He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. Too much information. Way too much information.
He patted the young Kelownan on the shoulder. “Excuse me, Jonas. It’s way past time to see the happy couples off.”
An hour later, George was handing Bra’tac his very first alcoholic drink. “Yes, beer is an acceptable beverage for warriors to drink. Just ask O'Neill. It’s been his beverage of choice for years.” The security phone in his study rang, interrupting the senior Jaffa’s reply. “Try the buffalo wings,” he suggested. “They’re suicidal. Definitely a food worthy of a warrior.”
Not waiting to see his guest’s reaction to the extra spicy snack, George walked into the study and closed the door behind him. “Hammond,” he stated once he heard the click informing him the line was secure.
“General Hammond, sir? It’s Walter. Colonel Mitchell just returned from Vis Uban, and you’re not going to believe who he stumbled upon.”
George fingered the two flattened boutonnières he found lying on his desk. Both DiNozzo and O'Neill had been missing theirs when they’d exited the study earlier that evening. “Damn it, O'Neill. Did you have to use my desk?” he grumpily mumbled. A second later a small stain on the desk’s blotter caught his attention, and the image his brain supplied had him stepping quickly away and tossing the damaged flowers into the garbage as if they were on fire.
“What is it, Walter? There’s very little that would surprise me, nowadays.” George glanced again at his desk and made a mental note to get a cleaning crew in ASAP. “Walter? Damn it, man. Spit it out. I’ve got guests to attend to.”
“It’s him, General,” Walter hurriedly exclaimed. “Colonel Mitchell found Doctor Jackson.”
The End
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving you hanging in a major way. I had always planned to bring Daniel Jackson into the mix, but unfortunately the muse never got around to it. And yes, even though I’m writing ‘the end’ to this series, that doesn’t mean I won’t continue to crank out stand-alone stories in this universe I’ve created. Daniel will get his chance to meddle with the guys; you have my word on that.
Disclaimer: This work is not intended as an infringement upon the rights of those that own these characters and is meant solely for non-profit entertainment purposes only.
End Notes:
Major thanks to every person who has offered me feedback over the past two years. I appreciate your kindness and your *extreme* patience more than you can know.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.