A bird chirping incessantly outside Gibbs' window was the first thing that registered in Tony's mind as he slowly woke up, and the sunlight streaming into the bedroom through that very same window made him squint blearily as soon as he was awake enough to open his eyes. He yawned and closed them again as he snuggled deeper into the soft blankets around him; these were way more comfortable than hospital bedding. Then he remembered he was lying in Gibbs' bed, and he opened his eyes with a start, glancing around but frowning when he saw he was alone. He vaguely remembered Gibbs shaking him awake and kissing him and leaving for work, but he'd mostly slept through it, and the memory was hazy and indistinct and almost like a dream - a really good dream.
He rubbed a tired hand over his face and then glanced at Gibbs' clock. 10:16. He hadn't intended to sleep that late, but he thought he probably needed it.
With a sigh, he rolled over and pushed himself out of bed, completely unsurprised to be assaulted by dizziness once he stood up. He made his way to the bathroom and resisted the urge to grumble and slam the door; weren't his medicines supposed to help with that?
After going about his business, he made his way down to the kitchen, going slowly on the stairs since no one was around to witness it and he felt rather unsteady. He wasn't surprised to see a short note from Gibbs laid out next to his pills ("Tony: Don't forget medicine. Call if you need me. -Gibbs.") He rolled his eyes and filled a glass with water before taking his medicine, and then he leaned against the kitchen counter and looked around, wondering what to have for breakfast, and more importantly, what he would do all day.
He knew he should make himself something to eat, but he wasn't that hungry, so he took care of his more immediate needs and sat heavily at the kitchen table with his glass of water, glad to sit for a moment, as his legs felt strangely rubbery.
He looked up in surprise when Gibbs' landline phone rang; Gibbs was about the only person he knew who still had one of those. He wasn't sure if he should answer it, so he stared at the phone where it hung on the wall, waiting impatiently for it to ring four times, and then listened as Gibbs' answering machine picked up, quirking a small smile at Gibbs' abrupt message, and paying attention once he heard the beep.
"Tony? You there?"
Tony sighed; it was Gibbs' voice flooding the house. He pushed himself up and grabbed the phone.
"Hi," he said, voice raspy from sleep as he plopped back down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
"You didn't answer your phone," Gibbs said. He sounded irritated, and Tony sighed and put his head down across his arm on the table, cradling the phone against his ear and letting his eyes close.
"Mm," he said, "just woke up. I think my phone's upstairs."
"You take-"
"Yes, Dad," Tony interrupted. "I took my pills."
Gibbs sighed on his end of the phone. "I'm not trying to be your dad, Tony," he said, and Tony heard the sound of a car horn honking.
"I hope not," Tony said. "Where are you? Are you driving?"
"No," Gibbs said, "just took a walk for coffee. Catching up on paperwork today."
"Don't get hit by a car," Tony said, and he could just imagine Gibbs rolling his eyes.
"Been crossing the street since I was five," Gibbs said. "Think I can manage. Eat some breakfast," he added, and Tony wasn't surprised by the completely abrupt change of subject; this was Gibbs, after all. "You dizzy today?"
Tony sighed again. This mother-hen thing of Gibbs' was kind of, well, sweet, but it was a little stifling. He couldn't exactly deny him answers, though; after all, he was sleeping in his bed and taking advantage of his generosity and Gibbs was really good at taking care of him and he was starting to feel really different around Gibbs; a good different that he couldn't really explain.
"Yeah, I'm kind of dizzy," Tony finally admitted, absently running his fingertips over the smooth wood of the kitchen table.
"You walkin' okay?" Gibbs continued.
"Yeah," Tony said, studiously not thinking about how slow he'd taken the stairs.
"Headache?"
Tony rolled his eyes. Anyone who thought Gibbs was an uncaring hard-ass was clearly out of their minds. "Not really," he said.
"I'm coming home at lunch," Gibbs said. "Want me to bring something?"
"There's a ton of leftover Chinese," Tony said, "We can eat that."
"Okay," Gibbs said, "don't forget to eat breakfast."
"I won't," Tony replied, his mind drifting to how nice it felt to lie pressed against Gibbs in his bed at night, to have Gibbs wake him up on his way to work and give him a kiss, to feel Gibbs' arms secure around his back, to be completely surrounded by his warmth, and he sighed into the phone, closing his eyes with a little smile he would be completely embarrassed about if anyone were there to catch sight of it.
"See you in a couple hours," Gibbs said a moment later, and Tony grinned; Gibbs wasn't hanging up on him in his usual brisk manner, he was actually being courteous.
"I'll be waiting with bated breath," Tony teased in a breathy voice, because after all, a courteous Gibbs was one he couldn't let slide.
"Shove it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly, and Tony wasn't surprised to hear an abrupt dial tone at the end of his words, and he laughed and made his way over to the base for the phone on the wall, hanging it back up before heading to the kitchen cabinets. He'd told Gibbs he'd eat breakfast, after all, and he always kept his word.
He felt a lot better than he had the night before. He still felt embarrassed thinking about how he'd broken down, but he supposed he'd earned the right, and the doctor had told him that he'd be prone to mood swings. As he poured some cereal into a bowl, though, he knew that he would have to keep a better handle on himself, especially if he wanted to go back to work. He didn't want Gibbs thinking he was weak, or unable to deal with things.
And even if he did feel a little daunted by the prospect of living this new and inhibited life of taking medicine all the time and feeling dizzy and weak and unsure of what would happen to him, he knew he couldn't let on. He just couldn't afford to do that.
He shoved the milk back into the fridge after pouring some over his cereal, and grabbed a spoon and sat at Gibbs' kitchen table. He spared a few thoughts to his apartment; he should probably get a few more things to bring to Gibbs' house, or maybe call his landlord - and then he felt overwhelmingly confused because just how long was Gibbs planning on keeping him around? Was he going to become a permanent fixture in Gibbs' home, or was he just there until he started to gain some equilibrium and become more used to his new condition?
His rent was due next week, and his lease was up in two months. He didn't want to renew his lease if Gibbs wanted to keep him around, but he sure as hell didn't want to ask him about it and have Gibbs tell him he'd be going home as soon as he got his head on straight.
After all-it seemed strange to go from a few kisses to living together. But then, he and Gibbs weren't exactly conventional, and they never had been. He furrowed his brow as he crunched his cereal thoughtfully.
And what was he, anyway? Gibbs' housewife, sitting at home watching soap operas while Gibbs was out at work? He wrinkled his nose at the thought, and felt even more determined to get back on his feet as soon as possible so that he didn't become a burden to Gibbs.
--
Tony's plan of acting as normal as possible was going well. So far, he had taken a shower and dressed in jeans rather than sweatpants, and he was clean-shaven and nestled into the corner of Gibbs' couch, blanket wrapped around him as he fought to keep his eyes open for James Bond. After all, Gibbs would be home any minute, and he wanted to be awake and ready for him.
It was strange to be home alone in Gibbs' house, but perhaps only because he had never been so before. It wasn't uncomfortable, merely different, and he much preferred it when Gibbs was home. It seemed unusually quiet when it was just himself - it wasn't that Gibbs made a lot of noise, but usually he could hear him rustling around somewhere if they weren't in the same room, and without him it felt eerily silent even with the sounds of the movie filling the living room.
He perked up, though, when he heard the gravel of Gibbs' driveway crunch underneath fast-moving tires. Gibbs was home. He sat up a bit straighter and tried to look engaged in the movie, and as soon as he heard Gibbs open the door, he called out a hello.
"Hey," Gibbs replied, entering the house and tossing his keys on the coffee table. "How you doin?" he asked, approaching the couch and leaning down to look Tony over critically, eyes warm with concern.
"I'm good," Tony said with a smile that widened when Gibbs leaned close and kissed him, lips soft and dry, and Tony happily reached up and pulled him closer, enjoying the feel of Gibbs' short hair underneath his fingers. He parted his lips, tugging Gibbs closer still, and then Gibbs' tongue was pressing against his own, and Tony sighed into the kiss, shifting a bit to get a better angle. Tony had always considered himself a damn good kisser - but if he'd known what a good kisser Gibbs was, he would've done this ages ago. The thought only led him to think about how good Gibbs must be at other things, and he grinned into the kiss.
Gibbs pulled away and put his hands on either side of Tony's face, looking at him searchingly. Tony knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't really care, especially not when Gibbs' eyes crinkled up in the corner and he ducked his head and grinned. When he turned back to look at Tony, his eyes were still dancing in amusement and it looked like he was trying hard not to show it, and Tony was amazed that he could make Gibbs look like that, because that was one of the few times he'd ever seen Gibbs look that happy.
"You hungry?" Gibbs asked after a pause, voice soft, eyes peering into Tony's as he stroked his fingers along Tony's temple.
"Mmm," Tony said. "Wanna have lunch?"
"Yeah," Gibbs replied. "Only have an hour," he added, looking regretful.
"That's okay," Tony said, tossing the blanket aside and pushing himself up. When he felt dizziness cloud his brain, he was grateful for Gibbs' arms reaching out to wrap around him in a solid embrace. He liked that idea, that he could pretend Gibbs was merely hugging him rather than keeping him from tipping over, and he wrapped his own arms around Gibbs in appreciation and closed his eyes, pressing his face into Gibbs' neck.
"What'd you do today?" Gibbs asked, his voice so close Tony could feel the short hairs on the back of his head rustle as Gibbs' words ghosted over them.
Tony smiled. "Oh, you know, the usual," he said, "thought I should act like I really belong here so I built a boat, got a lot of sanding done, did some yard work."
Gibbs gave a snort of laughter and very gently patted the back of Tony's head. Tony wondered if he'd ever get a real headslap again. "Don't have to act like you belong here, DiNozzo. You do," Gibbs said. "And I'm not an idiot. What'd you really do?"
Tony smiled into Gibbs' neck, surprised at how tactile Gibbs was at home. It was pleasant and a bit of a shock to find out how Gibbs was as a -well, whatever he was now; Boyfriend? Partner? Lover? (Tony couldn't imagine Gibbs approving of any of those terms) - and it made him wonder why the hell anyone would ever divorce him. But, then again, Tony was a lot more accustomed to Gibbs' many questionable traits than his many ex-wives probably were, and Tony knew damn well what a bastard Gibbs was most of the time; hell, when Gibbs was being nice, Tony automatically assumed something catastrophic had happened.
"Didn't do much," Tony finally said. "Took a shower, had some quality 007 time."
"Well come on, let's eat lunch," Gibbs said, pulling out of their hug and patting him on the cheek. Tony gave him an annoyed look and pulled his face away, and Gibbs merely laughed, heading towards the kitchen. Tony followed, fighting against the smile that wanted to surface as he walked behind Gibbs.
Gibbs got there before him and turned to watch him, and Tony felt self-conscious for a moment about how slow he was walking, so he made a point to walk faster and stopped next to Gibbs, studiously not thinking about the rubbery feeling in his legs.
"Go sit," Gibbs said. "I'll get this."
"It's okay," Tony said. "I can help."
Gibbs was looking at him so closely that Tony fought against all of his instincts that were screaming, "look away!" and kept his gaze on Gibbs. Finally, Gibbs nodded and opened the fridge, passing a couple of cartons to Tony. Tony took them and set them on the counter before grabbing some plates out of Gibbs' cabinets.
He was surprised when Gibbs came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, tucking his shoulder on Tony's chin and holding him flush against his body. Tony smiled, his hands still on the counter, and thought how domestic this was - and also how amazing Gibbs' body felt pressed against his own, and he shivered when Gibbs pressed a kiss into the spot right behind his jawline and underneath his ear that always drove him crazy - how did Gibbs know that already?
And then Gibbs let him go, and Tony scowled at him when he went over to the coffee pot with a smile and started making a new pot. Tony was not surprised to discover that Gibbs could be a bit of a tease.
He scooped food onto their plates, keeping one hand on the counter for balance when he could. He felt more unbalanced than he would like to admit, but he stubbornly ignored that feeling and focused instead on what he was doing. Gibbs came and stood next to him, grabbing the plastic wrap and covering the plates when Tony was finished. He put Tony's in the microwave first, and shooed Tony in the direction of the table.
Tony smiled at him but didn't move for a moment, internally assessing the short distance from where he stood at the kitchen counter to the table - ten steps, maybe? With a sigh, he set off, hoping he didn't look as wobbly as he felt, and he was grateful to sit when he got to the table. Gibbs followed and stood behind his chair, resting his hands on Tony's shoulders. Tony automatically tilted his head back to look up at him, and Gibbs gave him a smile and nudged his head back into place, much to Tony's confusion.
And then, Tony's confusion turned to pleasure as Gibbs began to knead his hands into his shoulders and Tony let his eyes slip closed as Gibbs' hands started to work kinks out of them that he hadn't even known were there. He felt his shoulders droop down and he wondered what he'd done to deserve Gibbs, because he was pretty sure it must've been something worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize. Gibbs was just as earnest and single-minded and focused at home as he was at work, only in a caring, almost gentle way that Tony wouldn't believe if he didn't experience it firsthand.
He wondered what his coworkers would think; he didn't so much care whether or not they would approve of whatever was going on between him and Gibbs because Gibbs made him way too happy for that. Instead, he wondered if they would ever believe how thoughtful and caring Gibbs was; he still wasn't quite sure he could believe it himself.
"I'm gonna bring your cane down," Gibbs said, voice soft, and Tony frowned and he felt his shoulders hunch upwards at the unwelcome suggestion, but Gibbs easily used his hands to push them back down. "Relax," Gibbs said. "Doesn't mean you have to use it."
"I don't want it," Tony said, well aware that he sounded like a petulant five year old, thrown off by Gibbs' words. The unpleasant thought of using his cane was made even more unpleasant when put in juxtaposition with the feel of Gibbs' hands, warm on his shoulders.
"Too bad," Gibbs said, and again, Gibbs did not surprise Tony; the man was an interrogation master, after all, and Tony was almost relieved that he would use a few underhanded tactics to get what he wanted at home, too, otherwise he wouldn't be sure this man was actually Gibbs. And Tony thought that maybe a massage was one underhanded tactic that he could get used to, especially because it left him so relaxed and eager for more that he was quite sure he would agree to any number of questionable ideas if Gibbs would just keep his hands moving.
"I'm not gonna use it," Tony warned after a moment, giving a soft "mmm" of pleasure when Gibbs' thumbs pressed hard into a knot between his shoulders. "Feels good," he couldn't help but say, his words more a sigh than anything else.
"I'd feel better knowing it was there in case you need it," Gibbs said, and Tony frowned. He couldn't argue with that, not when Gibbs was being all earnest and worried, and especially not when Gibbs' hands were making his shoulders melt into submission.
The microwave beeped, and Gibbs gave one last squeeze and leaned down to press a kiss into the space between Tony's neck and shoulder, and then one more right beneath his ear, and Tony watched him walk away, eyes trailing over his shoulders, his back, his arms, everything, and he let his mind drift over what else Gibbs' hands could do, and he bit his lip, his stomach giving a pleasant twist in anticipation.
"Here," Gibbs said, dropping a plate in front of Tony before going back and putting his own plate in the microwave. He grabbed a fork and gave that to Tony, too, and Tony carefully pulled the plastic wrap off of his plate, pulling his hands away to avoid the trapped steam that came rushing out as soon as he pulled off the covering.
"Got a case?" Tony asked, watching Gibbs pour himself coffee.
"No," Gibbs said. "Coffee?"
"Okay," Tony said, and he smiled as he watched Gibbs prepare it just the way he liked it.
"It'll be good to have you back at work when you're ready," Gibbs said.
Tony's smile widened. "Do you miss me?" he asked. "It must be hard with no one there to lighten the mood. Ziva and McGee can get all snippy and boring, you know. Somebody's gotta keep them in check. I bet McGee's ego is through the roof without me there, right? And everyone's probably way too serious all the time. And-"
"Only difference is," Gibbs interrupted, and he sounded pissy as he set Tony's coffee down in front of him, "everyone's actually getting their work done. On time."
Tony frowned, and Gibbs glanced over at him with a roll of his eyes. "Hey," Gibbs said, "it's not the same without you," he added, and Tony felt some of his frown slip away as he realized that Gibbs had been teasing him (at least partly). After all, what did he really expect Gibbs to say? That NCIS stopped running because Tony wasn't there? That the team disintegrated and simply couldn't go on?
"Abby has some stupid fake Tony made out of a mop in her lab," Gibbs said, pulling his plate out of the microwave as Tony started eating his own lunch. "Talks to it, too."
"Really?" Tony asked, wrinkling his nose when he burnt his tongue on his hot food.
"Yeah," Gibbs said. "Don't know what she expects it to say back."
"I don't think I want to know," Tony said.
Gibbs grinned, coming around to sit next to Tony at the table.
"McGee and Ziva asked about you about a hundred times already today," Gibbs continued. "I had to tell 'em I'd fire their asses if they asked again."
"How sweet," Tony said, giving Gibbs a wide grin.
Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Don't get a big head, DiNozzo," he warned, already shoveling food into his mouth.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Boss," Tony said.
--
Tony sighed and stretched out languidly on the couch as he woke up some time later, feeling Gibbs' hands on his body, and he leaned into the touch as he sluggishly opened his eyes to gaze at Gibbs. He was surprised to see that it was already getting dark out, and Gibbs' features were shadowy where he sat on the edge of the couch.
"Time's it?" Tony asked tiredly, reaching out and resting a hand on Gibbs' thigh.
"'Bout 1930," Gibbs said, looking at him in concern.
"You just get home?" Tony asked.
Gibbs shook his head, keeping a hand on Tony's shoulder and running his thumb back and forth over his collarbone. "Been home for about an hour and a half," he said.
Tony's eyebrows shot up in surprise; he hadn't woken up?
"How long've you been sleeping?" Gibbs asked.
"Don't know," Tony said, words cut off by a yawn that he couldn't be bothered to cover with a hand. "Think I fell asleep around three or four," he added.
"I made dinner," Gibbs said. "Come eat."
"Okay," Tony said, "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
"Figured you'd wake up when you were ready," Gibbs said with a shrug, still running his thumb over Tony's collarbone and looking at him with concern that easily shone through his normally closed off features, even in the dusky light of the setting sun.
Tony sighed and ran a tired hand over his face before bracing himself against the couch and working his way up to a sitting position. Gibbs shifted a bit to give him room, and Tony swung his legs over the side of the couch and sat on the edge for a moment, letting Gibbs slide his arm around his waist and hold onto him.
"You're warm," Tony murmured, dropping his head onto Gibbs' shoulder with a sigh. Gibbs kissed his forehead and laced their fingers together.
"C'mon," he said. "Dinner's getting cold."
"What'd you make?" Tony asked, most of his brain still foggy with sleep.
"Spaghetti," Gibbs said. "Out of a box. With sauce out of a jar."
"My favorite," Tony said with a smile.
"Salad, too," Gibbs said. "Out of a bag."
"Perfect," Tony said, and Gibbs squeezed his waist for a moment before letting go and standing up, leaving Tony to brace the side of the couch for a moment when his equilibrium seemed to walk away with Gibbs. He sighed and stood up, knowing there was no use in putting off the inevitable, and eagerly grabbed onto Gibbs when he stepped close and reached out to steady him.
"Aren't my steroids supposed to make this go away?" Tony asked miserably, too tired to follow through with his plan of pretending that he was just fine; he thought maybe he had to adjust a few of its finer points, anyway.
"Doctor said you'll have bad days and good days," Gibbs said.
"Since when do you listen to what doctors say?" Tony asked, looking at him skeptically.
"When it's about you I do," Gibbs said, and before Tony realized what he was doing, Gibbs was pushing the cane into his hands, and Tony frowned, leaning heavily on it when Gibbs stepped away from him.
"I don't want this thing," Tony said, looking at Gibbs and hoping he didn't look as betrayed as he felt.
"I know," Gibbs said, and Tony felt his frown grow at the sympathy in Gibbs' voice.
"So why-"
"You need it," Gibbs said, and his tone left no room for argument, but Tony couldn't help but push.
"I don't need it," Tony said, ignoring the way his knuckles were clenched white around the handle.
"No?" Gibbs said. "So if you let go of it right now, you'd be just fine, and you could walk to the kitchen with no trouble?"
"Yes," Tony said adamantly.
"Then go ahead," Gibbs said, gesturing ahead of him. "Dinner's waiting."
Tony glared at him, wondering why Gibbs had to be so-so Gibbs, and let go of the cane, thanking whatever God might have been listening that he didn't fall flat on his face, and he carefully stepped forward, giving Gibbs a haughty look as he passed him, but then he stopped abruptly and reflexively reached out, breath hitching nervously when it felt like the floor was swimming up to meet him. Before he could really panic, though, Gibbs was standing behind him, arms circled around his chest, holding him tight.
"I hate you," Tony said, even as he leaned back against Gibbs' body and felt the adrenaline of almost falling leave him and relief swim over him in its place.
Gibbs tightened his arms and kissed the side of Tony's face.
"It doesn't make you weak," Gibbs said, his voice soft. "It just means you're strong enough to admit you could use the help."
"I don't feel very strong," Tony admitted, bowing his head, knowing Gibbs was right, damn him, but not liking it very much.
"I know," Gibbs said. "But you really think you'd look stronger stumbling around, tripping over your own two feet, and falling flat on your face than you would just walking normally with a cane?"
"You have such a way with words," Tony said with a weak smile, even though he knew Gibbs couldn't see his face from behind him.
"I don't sugarcoat, Tony; you should know that by now," Gibbs said, and despite the harshness of his earlier statement, his voice was soft and almost gentle.
"I know," Tony said, serious again, and he turned himself around in Gibbs' arms, grateful that Gibbs kept a loose hold on him the whole time. Tony looked at him for a moment and hesitated, then brought a hand up to the back of Gibbs' head and leaned forward to kiss him. It was a short kiss, but heartfelt, and as he pulled away he looked at Gibbs hesitantly, feeling embarrassed because it was one of the first kisses he'd initiated.
Gibbs smiled at him, though, really smiled, and Tony sighed and leaned forward to hug him, feeling like the worst kind of idiot in the world because as usual, Gibbs was right, and he should've just used the ugly cane from the start.
"Do you think I'm stupid?" Tony asked after a pause, half-serious.
Gibbs gave a snort of surprised laughter. "No," he said. "But sometimes I think you forget there's a brain in there," he added, tapping the side of Tony's head.
"Good thing I have you to remind me," Tony said, and when Gibbs pulled away from him, grabbed the cane, and shoved it back into his hands, he took it with a self-conscious smile and made his way to the kitchen.
"You think anyone makes designer canes?" Tony asked, eager to get paste the strange intimacy of the moment before as he sat down at the table and looked at the cane critically. "Imagine a Zegna cane? I mean, I guess there's probably not a big market for them. But damn-"
"DiNozzo," Gibbs said, looking at him in exasperation.
"Sorry, Boss. Sears cane is fine," he said, giving him a bright smile.
"That cane is not from Sears," Gibbs said with a roll of his eyes, scooping some pasta onto his plate.
"But you'd buy one there if you could, right?" Tony said, taking the pasta from Gibbs when he passed it to him.
Gibbs didn't dignify that with a response, merely gave Tony an annoyed look as he reached for the sauce, and Tony smiled. Even if Gibbs was an irritable bastard a lot of the time, Tony was grateful for him, and he thought maybe he could get through this with Gibbs' support - even if he would do his best not to need it.
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