Basement
Gibbs sipped his bourbon slowly, watching as Tony prepared dinner. It had been too long since someone had looked out for him, since someone had cooked for him. Mrs. Landry next door brought him leftovers, especially when she realized his car was gone for days on end and he had returned. She’d taken to letting herself in the house when he was sleeping and slipping a casserole into the fridge.
But in terms of someone cooking just for him…it’d been a while. Jackson had offered when he was up in Stillwater but he’d opted for soup instead. Hollis had never cooked for him, being just as career driven as he was. Must have been Abby, he realized. Right when he’d gotten back from Mexico.
“This is nice, Tony,” Gibbs ventured, watching DiNozzo make himself at home in the kitchen. A baking pan was lined with foil and Tony carefully speared the meat before spreading a liquid over them.
“What’re they marinated in?” Gibbs asked, curious.
“Apple brandy and some other stuff.”
“DiNozzo family recipe?” Gibbs asked, but Tony shook his head.
“Created it myself. Wicked sweet tooth.”
“Man of surprises.”
Tony was blushing a little as he shrugged. “They need to cook for twenty minutes, want to take this someplace else.” He didn’t say so but his eyes flicked to the basement door and Gibbs nodded, snagging the bottle of brandy and the two glasses.
Gibbs flicked on the light and they traipsed downstairs. He put the bottle and glasses on the work bench and turned, noticing Tony looking at the boat. The younger man ran a hand reverently over the wood before pivoting Gibbs, his eyes over bright.
“I can’t imagine having this talent, Gibbs. Building something from nothing, from a pile of sticks. I know it soothes you, but I can’t even imagine it.” Tony looked a little uncertain and then plunged onward. “Was this something you and your father did together?”
Gibbs hadn’t expected this change in DiNozzo. After a full day of completely competent and self-assured Tony, he was all of a sudden vulnerable and almost shy. Not coy, not that calculating, but genuinely shy and tentative. And Gibbs suddenly wanted to give something back to Tony, something personal that very few people knew.
“Jackson’s best friend was a guy named L.J. Leroy Jethro. He and Dad opened the store together. L.J. worked a lot with his hands, whittling, he built me a wagon and a sled when I was a little boy. When I got older, I learned to build boats.”
He paused for a long moment before continuing. This was incredibly personal and he hadn’t expected to share it with anyone"ever. “After my mother died, I was very depressed. Jack wasn’t…” He shook his head.
“I was young and mostly alone. L.J. and his wife looked after me. Jack couldn’t. L.J. used to take me out fishing in a little boat he had. He’d built it. And we built a sailboat together, twelve footer...” Gibbs trailed off, unused to sharing something this intimate with anyone else. Giving precious memories was like giving parts of him and they all threw it back at him when they fought.
But this was different. This was DiNozzo, not a redheaded woman he’d married. DiNozzo was almost as safe as Ducky. More so in some ways.
Gibbs forced himself to lift his chin and looked into Tony’s eyes, shocked to see that emotion and moisture were swimming.
“I’m sorry, Gibbs,” Tony said quietly. He hesitated for a moment and then closed the gap between them, extending a hand that shook lightly and rubbing it over Gibbs’ forearm. “I was twelve when I lost mine. At boarding school…”
Tony’s expression turned profoundly sad and he slowly lowered his head to stare at the ground. He pulled in a few deep, audible breaths before he looked up again and when Gibbs looked into Tony’s eyes, he saw compassion and sadness but something lurking even deeper.
Was that desire?
Tony was only a few inches away from Gibbs now, his hand lightly on the other man’s arm. Of everything Gibbs could have said, Tony never expected such a starkly honest and personal reflection from a man who didn’t share anything at all. He knew it was a gift. And he knew he had to take the next step, before he lost the nerve.
“You hold a lot inside.” Tony said quietly. “Wondered if you had anyone to share it with. All this responsibility. The team…”
Tony had thought he understood when Gibbs had gone to Mexico, but he’d been assuming a role, acting the way he knew everyone expected Gibbs to be. It was only at the end that Tony had fallen into the job of team leader rather than being an actor doing a role. And then Ziva had found her own trouble, Gibbs had come back, and Tony had been put firmly back into his place.
Only during this case did he fully realize the responsibility and burden. It was his fault an innocent man had been put away. His more than the team. The leader oversaw the actions of his subordinates. And right now Tony felt every bit of the responsibility Gibbs must carry around with him on a daily basis.
Tony shook himself out of the memories and guilt he was trying to banish and found Gibbs watching him. He gave the other man a wistful smile. “I get it, Gibbs. Like I said earlier, I understand. You need this sanctuary to function.”
And the boat explained so much.
Gibbs nodded once and pulled away, Tony’s palm itching with the loss of contact. When the other man was bent over the work bench, pouring two glasses of the expensive bourbon, Tony moved closer.
Without conscious thought and working only on instinct, Tony wrapped his arms around the older man’s torso, giving him a gentle hug. Gibbs stiffened in his arms, body going firm and hard, muscles locking. It gave Tony a small thrill, bringing forth an image of them grappling, of Tony pinning Gibbs down, hard cocks rubbing against each other.
Tony’s traitorous dick let out a small twitch at the idea before he shifted his hips back, putting a couple of inches between his crotch and Gibbs’ firmly muscled ass. And just like that, Gibbs relaxed, his soft hair tickling Tony’s nose, his back resting against Tony’s chest.
“What the hell ya doing, DiNozzo?” Gibbs asked, but there wasn’t anger or fury in his words, just curiosity and a little confusion.
“Sometimes even a tough guy needs some physical contact. You kiss Abby on the cheek but I bet you haven’t been hugged in a good long time. Right now in this basement we’re equals, Gibbs. Just wanted to…” Tony shrugged stepping back and letting Gibbs go, an apology on his lips.
Gibbs turned, his eyes electric, his expression taking Tony’s breath away. He’d never seen that particular half smile on Gibbs’ face before.
“Gonna keep playing games, Tony?” Gibbs asked quietly.
“What do you mean?”
“You came here with dinner, conversation, expensive bourbon. Starting to sound like a seduction, Tony. Is it? You trying to seduce me?”
Tony gulped hard, not knowing what to say. If Gibbs wasn’t receptive, it could be the end Tony’s job, his career. He stared into Gibbs’ eyes, frustrated that he couldn’t read the other man’s emotions or even his body language.
“Is it, Anthony?” Gibbs asked again, his voice lowering, becoming…husky. The bourbon abandoned, he stepped closer, cocking his head slightly and looking into Tony’s eyes. Tony’s heartbeat stuttered, his breathing suddenly shallow. He couldn’t find his voice if he tried, so he just nodded, hoping beyond hope that he hadn’t read this completely wrong.
Gibbs nodded once as well, a small smile playing over his lips. He reached out and grabbed Tony’s wrist in a motion so fast that Tony almost missed it. The move knocked Tony off balance and Gibbs took every advantage, wrapping an arm low around Tony’s back.
“Good. Didn’t think I was reading you wrong.” He breathed out a sigh. “Dangerous game here, Tony. If I wasn’t interested…”
“But you were. Worked together for seven years. Didn’t think I had you read that wrong.” Tony had finally found his voice, but the reedy tone barely sounded like him. He squirmed a little in Gibbs’ tight embrace before settling against the other man, chest to chest and thigh to thigh. If he wasn’t mistaken, Gibbs was hardening, the friction of their bodies together working on both of them.
“No, you didn’t,” Gibbs agreed, rubbing circles against the small of Tony’s back. Tony groaned, his tension leaving one part of his body and coiling in another. Gibbs’ other hand released his wrist and began to run over Tony’s arm, shoulder, the sensitive part of his neck behind his ear. Then that hand buried itself in Tony’s hair.
His eyes fluttered shut and he parted his lips, waiting for the kiss…
Then the stove timer went off.
Tony reluctantly pulled away, giving Gibbs what he hoped was a roughish grin. “Saved by the bell for now. Come on. I’m feeding you. Best way to a man’s heart…”
“Is via the basement,” Gibbs added with a chuckle, sheepishness warring with desire on his face. It was a damned good look on him.
And Tony knew this was going to be one hell of a night.
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