“Is this a private party or can anybody join in?” Eliot saunters in with his arms filled with groceries, all good ol' boy and sweetness, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Gibbs is as stubborn as a mule and Morgan is going for his gun.
"Eliot Spencer," he says, setting the bags down in the kitchen and reaching for Gibbs' hand. “You must be Gibbs, right. I guess you’ve met our agency friend,” he gestures to Morgan who gives him a level gaze, watching the situation closely. “Beer?” he offers, handing Morgan a cold bottle as the agent relaxes on the couch, turning on some random basketball game and making no secret of the fact that he was still watching Gibbs and had his gun hand ready.
“On the job,” is Gibbs’ only explanation as he stubbornly stands behind the chair closest to the master bedroom.
“What exactly can we do for you, Special Agent Gibbs?”
“I’m just here to talk to Tony.”
“Did he leave without turning in his report or something? That doesn’t sound like our Anthony at all, does it now, D?”
“Nope. My man is nothing if not thorough. We’d have never caught the Silver Springs Slayer if he hadn’t painstakingly reviewed every interview and realized what they all had in common. Amazing we didn’t make the connection but that was before Garcia and Dr. Reid.” Gibbs smirks as if he’s not surprised and Eliot likes that response. Eliot’s doing nothing to hide his identical reaction and, like any infatuated lover, fishes for more intel about Tony.
“So what was it, this thing the vics had in common?”
“Some obscure business deals only linked by offshore accounts in Seychelles. He knew a little bit more about dirty money than any junior agent out of Peoria ought to. DiNozzo: full of surprises, huh?” Derek finishes, taking a swig of cold beer.
“Speaking of surprises, how is it that Tony has a mysterious illness and family that I know nothing about? I don’t buy it. In fact, I want to see Tony right now!” Gibbs demands, not planning to but not able to resist when he suddenly hears movement and murmuring from the master bedroom. Eliot moves quickly and is to the door before Gibbs, checking to be sure Tony is presentable. Eliot closes the door and turns back to face Gibbs and Morgan.
“The thing is, Gibbs, you gotta appreciate the fact that Anthony is a little out of it right now. Don’t be alarmed if he’s not making too much sense-“
“Open the door, Eliot,” Gibbs demands in a voice that leaves no room for disobeying. Eliot assesses the situation and considers dropping the old agent where he stands. Then he thinks about Tony and how he would explain himself to Gibbs’ number one fan.
“Keep it down- he’s not up yet and we like to let him get all the sleep he can; he’s gonna need it.” Eliot explains as he cracks the door halfway, casually leaving his arm across the entrance and Gibbs goes along because it seems like a good idea considering Tony doesn’t feel well. Tony was in plain view, sprawled across the bed wantonly in Eliot’s opinion, but he hoped it would pass for the slight daze of fever. He was on his back, his eyes were closed and his brow was speckled with beads of sweat. He murmured what Gibbs could’ve sworn was a recipe then tossed a bit until he ended up on his stomach with the expensive sheets precariously covering his nudity. Gibbs stares, trying to figure out if Tony looks sick or…something else. He notices the slight panting and wonders if his labored breathing would get any worse later on. “Okay- peep show’s over, boss man,” Eliot says, shutting the door and smiling belatedly. “I’ve got something for you. From Tony, actually,” and this got Gibbs attention so that he followed Eliot away from the bedroom door where Tony was obviously indisposed at the moment. “He had me bring this from San Lorenzo- not that it’s grown there, but my old employer used to drink this. I stole his stash. He won’t be needing it where they got him locked up.”
“And who’s your old employer? This is what you want me to ask, isn’t it?” Gibbs plays along, thankful that he doesn’t have to work too hard to figure out how to stall until Tony wakes up, but hating the ruse all the same. He watches as Eliot pulls out a canister from a worn leather satchel then begins opening the pressure sealed container and filling the French press with the most aromatic grounds Gibbs has ever smelled. All the while, the man who Gibbs had already pegged as obvious muscle shot measuring glances his way as if trying to figure out just how much the marine could be trusted. The silence reigns and nobody seems in a rush to fill it with words and they all listen to the Nets beat the Grizzlies. Finally, Eliot hands Gibbs the coffee and offers his best explanation.
“Black" he assures. "Look, I shouldn’t have mentioned my job. Forget about it- it’s not important-“
“I agree. What is important is the fact that Tony’s lying in bed, struggling for his next breath with damaged lungs. Are you sure he doesn’t need a doctor, Eliot? You’re his friend? Did you know he has less than 60% of his lung function? What happens when he stops breathing, Eliot?”
“You’re being a bit dramatic, Gibbs.” Eliot brushed off the older man’s worry, but he hadn’t known about any lung damage. He walked across the room, meeting Morgan’s eyes to find that the FBI agent had no idea about Tony’s lungs either. “We’ve been doing this for quite a while, alright? I’ve known Anthony for thirteen years now and Lord knows how long those two have known each other,” he motions at Morgan and chuckles. “I think we can handle this on our own, dad,” he finishes, knowing the gibe will irk Gibbs. There's only a quick glint of anger, but Eliot sees it. He laughs to himself, thinking of how Tony would describe his relationship with his boss. How many times had Tony explained his infatuation away by saying that Gibbs was like the dad he never had, ‘and you know about me and my father issues…’? Father my ass, Eliot thought. He watched how Gibbs looked at Tony, demanded to see him, wouldn’t leave until he spoke to him. If the team was one big family like Tony always claimed, where was everyone else? Why was Gibbs here alone, demanding to see his senior agent who was off duty? If Gibbs’ reaction to the ‘dad’ comment was any indication, Tony’s boss didn’t like being thought of as the younger agent’s father figure.
“Handle what? You haven’t told me a goddamned thing!” Gibbs pointed out in fury, bringing Eliot back to the situation at hand. He spares a sideways glance to Morgan and takes a deep breath, only to be cut off by the behavioral analyst.
“We haven’t told you anything because we’re not going to tell you anything. It’s not our business to tell. But I realize you are just a concerned party, so I will calm your fears by telling you that what Tony is experiencing is totally natural and safe…”
“Not another virus,” Gibbs sighs, sitting down on a barstool.
“No. Not a virus. More like a harmless genetic mutation that ever so often must run its course,” Morgan finishes, hopeful that this answer will satisfy the investigator.
“So it’s a high grade fever that leaves him incoherent and this is safe because…?”
“Derek, Derek, don’t leave me alone, man,” Tony can be heard moaning in the bedroom and Gibbs catches the worried look on Morgan’s face as the FBI agent hesitantly rises to answer the call. Gibbs is unsure what the anxiety is about, but Eliot realizes Morgan doesn’t trust the ex-mercenary alone with the aging federal agent. After all the background he’s done on Gibbs, Morgan isn’t at all sure who will win, but he knows he doesn’t want to find out today. He’s relieved for only a moment when Eliot volunteers to answer Tony’s call himself.
One hundred and eighty pounds of controlled violence stalks through the door, shutting it gently before approaching the miserable man writhing on the bed.
“Derek! Dere-“
“He’s out there babysitting your boss, Anthony! Now, you’ve got to pull yourself together so you can send Gibbs away,” Eliot explains, straightening the sheets and tucking them in haphazardly so Tony can’t yank them off quiet so easily.
“Boss? Eliot?” and then realizing who was standing before him, he repeats with a leer and a lustful slur, “Elllliot. You came!” Tony whispers excitedly and while his eyelids are half closed and fluttering, his hands seem to be working just fine as they tug at his attendant’s clothing wildly. “Off, Eliot,” Tony yanks at his shirt hard enough to rip several buttons off before Eliot finally grabs Tony’s wrists, forcing them over his head as Tony pants and undulates against Eliot who groans when he realizes he's now straddling Tony. He wishes he could relieve Tony which is his whole purpose for being here, but he knows it is too risky with Gibbs in the next room.
“Look, I don’t know why we don’t just tell your boss and be done with it, babe. He’s got to know something’s up and if he’s anything like you describe him, he’ll be all over this in no time anyway.”
“Boss? Gibbs? Where’s Gibbs?”
“Outside. About to bust in here if you don’t calm down,” but Tony continues to rub himself against Eliot, moaning and whining until Eliot considers it prudent to quiet him down a bit. He reaches down between them until he has a firm grip on Tony who moans and leaks a bit before remembering how to breathe again. “Now listen, you have to be quiet. Do I need to gag you?” Tony shakes his head no and frantically continues to pump into Eliot’s hand until a few sudden jerks have him spilling with a ragged sigh. When Tony’s hips don’t stop moving, but become more frantic, Eliot realizes he’s started something he’s not prepared to finish. He knows Tony is caught up in an endorphin rush. He looks at the dilated pupils and can only think of one alternative as Tony’s noises become more and more noticeable. “Do you want Eliot to make it all better?”
“Eliot, please, don’t tease, Eliot.
“No tease, babe. I know what you need and I aim to give it to you good…”
“YespleaseEliot,” Tony exhales.
“As soon as you tell Gibbs to leave.”
“Help me. Now!” Tony demands, grunting and moaning in painful ecstasy as Eliot leans forward to capture Tony’s mouth in a controlling kiss. “Nononono,” Tony squirms angrily as both Eliot’s hands are used to hold his wrists down over his head once more and only Eliot’s body lying on top of Tony holds the desperate Italian down.
“Two minutes is all I ask, Tony. He’ll come to the door and you’ll tell him you’re fine. You’ll call him later when you’re feeling better. Say it. Say it, Tony,” Eliot demands, pulling out his patented 'hitter' glare.
“I’m fine. I’ll call him later,” Tony whines, understanding what Eliot is telling him to do. “It hurts, Eliot!”
“I know, babe. Where does it hurt you most?”
“It hurts inside, El. I need you in me, please hurry!”
“You talk to Gibbs and I’m all yours, lover,” Eliot jumps off the bed with a quick whip of the sheets, making sure to leave Tony mostly covered, as if the smell of sex isn’t obvious enough. He also underestimats the quickness of Tony’s hands which somehow catch the bottom of his t-shirt and pull, ripping both shirts over Eliot’s head and leaving him topless. It’s too late to throw something on as Eliot hears movement towards the doors and turns just in time to see Gibbs bust open the door with a strong shoulder and an angry glare.
“Move away from the bed. Tony? How you doing in here?” Gibbs asks with his sig sauer trained on Eliot who just stares at Gibbs from where he stands besides the bed in nothing but a pair of jeans, panting and looking almost as debauched as Tony who actually tries to do his job but has trouble between gasps for breath. Gibbs takes in Eliot’s kiss swollen lips, the flush from cheeks to chest, and the impressive bulge beneath his denim, amazed at what the facts clearly point to.
“S’okay, Gibbs. Friends.” Tony doesn’t seem to be able to say much else, but he pulls at Eliot’s pant leg to get his attention, remaining as quiet as he can for as long as he can hold out, but Gibbs is unmovable.
“Look, stop torturing the guy. He’ll call you later, Agent Gibbs. Let me help him now,” Eliot was almost pleading, but his anger wouldn’t let him. How long had this Gibbs known Tony and how close were they supposed to be? Yet, Tony couldn’t count on him to help him through this. Well, if he’s half the man Tony seems to think he is, he won’t fire Tony for being bi, Eliot guesses, not really seeing any way to explain why he’s half dressed and his naked buddy’s pulling on his leg from a tousled bed that smells like an orgy.
“And exactly how are you going to help him?” Gibbs demands of Eliot, conceding to himself that Tony is probably alright, but still feeling unexplainably protective concerning his senior agent. He feels a bit foolish as he watches Tony tug at the man’s pant leg. Gibbs admits he’s handsome, younger than Tony and has a great body. How do you think he’s going to help him, Gibbs asks himself, feeling like a naive interloper. He stands there like an unmovable wall trying to make sense of what he sees.
“Gibbs, s’okay…g’home.” After a few short pants Tony can wait no longer. He turns a glassy gaze upward to the man standing over him and manages between pants, “Eliot, …please,… fuckmepleaseEliotplease!” Tony gasps as he reaches for himself beneath the sheets and Eliot decides to follow Tony’s lead. He smirks as he unbuttons his fly and drops his pants, kicking them off so he’s stark naked and daring Gibbs to say anything. He knows he looks good and gives Gibbs a few seconds to admire his physique before speaking.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to help out a friend,” he says, turning his back and tasting Tony’s lips, which pulls a groan from the heated man so wanton that Gibbs is almost blushing with embarrassment. Before he knows what’s going on, Eliot is between Tony’s splayed thighs devouring the lust crazed man, but it’s not enough.
“Oh please, Eliot. Makeitstop, makeitstop-“
“I know, babe. Shhhhh, I got you, darling,” Eliot soothes as he stealthily searches for lubricant and condoms. He doesn’t forget to touch Tony everywhere since the contact seems to calm Tony a bit, but in seconds he’s ready and he yanks the sheet from Tony, lining himself up at the little opening that’s only a bit puckered and swollen from earlier use.
“Let’s give them their privacy,” Morgan suggests as he gently closes the door, taking it from Gibbs’ grip in the process.
~
“I could get him a job if you don’t block it, but Tony loves NCIS. In fact, with his record, I might even be able to get him on with the BAU. We always need a seasoned investigator and Tony’s a quick study-“
“What? Tony is the best senior field agent I’ve ever had. That’s not going to change any time soon, Agent Morgan.” Gibbs explains, much to Morgan’s satisfaction. He follows the younger agents’ lead and sits down to the game and watches the Grizzlies trail the Nets for a few minutes before the noises from the bedroom become too distracting. Morgan grimaces and turns up the volume before he starts to talk.
“Look, if you’re any good at your job you’ll find all this out on your own, so I guess there’s no harm in telling you. Obviously, Tony’s bisexual and we didn’t want to out him. He switched jobs pretty regularly for a few years early on in his career and we didn’t want a repeat of that cycle.” Derek pauses at this point, wondering if Gibbs will find out everything about Tony’s condition. He waits for Gibbs to fill the silence with questions, but realizes he’s working with a seasoned interrogator when Gibbs just listens. “Our boy has a genetic mutation that causes him to go through a fertility cycle every few years. It’s basically a week of emotional and physical sensitivity, accompanied by bouts of fever, internal cramping, swelling. The whole thing is accompanied by the overwhelming need to mate and procreate.”
“So you’re helping him by not letting him knock up some random woman?” Gibbs asks, not quite following Morgan’s story.
“Something like that, Gibbs. Look, if we weren’t here for Tony, the results could be catastrophic. I mean, Tony would be a great dad, but I think it would cramp his style, if you know what I mean,” Derek laughs and Gibbs smiles, imagining Tony as a dad.
“Why you?”
“What do you mean, Gibbs?”
“Tony’s never had a problem getting a date, Morgan. You expect me to believe that Tony can’t find a couple of guys to spend the weekend with him?” Gibbs didn’t buy it. Mostly because he would’ve been first in line had he known what Tony needed, but that wasn’t something he was going to let Morgan in on. “He doesn’t want to get some girl pregnant, so he has sex with guys? It makes no sense.” Gibbs just stares at Morgan and waits for the real story. Eventually Morgan sighs and caves in.
“Anthony’s genetic anomaly allows him to conceive. During this…rutting phase he wouldn’t be interested in sex with a woman because the fertility cycle requires another male to procreate. What he needs now are partners who he can trust to be responsible and protected since it’s the last thing on his mind right now. If he went back to picking up random guys in the club we’d have little DiNozzos running around here in no time,” Morgan laughs, turning his attention to the game and allowing his words to sink in. Gibbs looks skeptical, but remains silent and pretends to watch the game for a few minutes but can’t ignore the sounds of ecstasy seeping through the door. He stands abruptly.
“You leaving?”
“Yeah. I’ll be back to talk to Tony.”
“You know he really looks up to you, right? Can he depend on your discretion?” Gibbs just nods and shows himself out, dialing the first number that comes to mind as he grimaces on a bad knee down four flights of stairs.
“Abs. You still at work? What can you tell me about male pregnancy? And tell McGee to find out who Derek Morgan and Eliot Spencer are- Morgan’s FBI and Spencer’s a mercenary, maybe ex-military. I’ll be there in twenty.”
Old Friends by joblo
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs finds out whats going on with his best agent.
Chapter End Notes:
I own NOTHING except your generous reviews...