Tony owns a pair of jeans that look like they were dried in a war zone at some point in the past. They have the gaping holes at the knees common in most old jeans and the friction spots you’d expect at the bottoms of the back pockets. But the spots that never fail to draw Jethro’s attention, or make his blood boil, are unique to this pair.
The first is the diagonal tear just below the back left pocket that never fails to reveal just a hint of surprisingly tanned buttock when Tony sits on the basement step.
Tony hands him a beer and retreats back to the stairs with a smile. He’s loose, happy. He’s been that way a lot lately. Jethro tries not to attribute that to the fact that they’ve been making out like a pair of desperate teenagers lately but it’s a difficult task. Lord knows he’s probably got a dumb ass grin on his own face over it. When he looks back over Tony’s got his beer resting on top of his tented knees and the look he’s giving Jethro says Tony’s not the only one smiling a little foolishly. He’s too old to blush so he gives Tony a slow once over instead and his eyes catch on a flash of tanned skin. His mouth goes dry and he knows with a sudden clarity that tonight- not some adrenaline fueled gasping mess- is the night that they’re going to do more than sleep in his bed together. He finds he’s glad that it’s a glimpse of Tony’s flesh, familiar though it is, that’s pushing him forward. It seems to validate the unspoken agreement to wait that it’s joy, not trauma leading the way.
The second is mostly round, about the size of a quarter, and just inside the right knee of the jeans. He’s watched Tony worry that spot with his thumb so many times it’s not surprising to find the worn spot. What does surprise Jethro is how much he wants to kiss that tiny bit of skin.
Tony’s sprawled in his armchair beside the base of the steps, talking at length about how it will only take a weekend to retile the master bath.
It’s a subject he’s been on for three weeks and Jethro’s almost ready to tell him that the tile order is due into the hardware store by the weekend, but Tony is rather appealing when he’s being persuasive. Some of Jethro’s mood must show on his face though because suddenly Tony sits up and pulls his right leg into the chair, “You’re going to let me do it.”
Smug is embarrassingly cute on Tony and Jethro moves to kiss him. Then he retreats back to his work bench before he can give the game away.
He works quietly for a time, enjoying the weight of Tony’s gaze before offering to let him help. Tony demurs and lays his head on the upraised knee to watch. Eventually Jethro turns back and is caught by both the affection in Tony’s expression and the urge to kiss the tiny patch of skin visible just below his eye on the inside of his knee. It’s the spot Tony worries when he’s thinking or talking and it speaks to so many of the discussions they’ve had to find that bit of skin revealed as a result. Jethro makes a point to kiss that spot before mentioning the tiles, and perhaps, a few times afterward as well.
The third inspires a different type of feeling, because the fact that Jethro’s thumb slides right into it to caress Tony’s hipbone suggests that the wear and tear is from someone else doing the same. He rarely pays Tony’s hipbones, a proven hot spot, any attention when these jeans make an appearance.
It’s a lazy summer Sunday of the kind they don’t often see, just the sort of day Jethro wants to spend with Tony. But Tony wasn’t in any of his usual haunts, which, truthfully consisted of the den, kitchen and bedroom. Still. Jethro’s beginning to feel a little put out when he notices the curtains on the left side of the French doors have been pulled aside. Peering outside the first thing he sees is the ass of Tony’s most threadbare jeans. There are bits of metal piping spread around him and he appears to be keeping the instructions from flying away with his elbows- hence, one would assume, the odd posture. Jethro steps out onto the porch and leans against a support post to watch. A short while later Tony’s on his feet again stretching a canvass hammock on to the stand he’s just finished building. Jethro steps up behind him just as Tony is finished and turns him with a gentle hand to his hip, “Having fun?”
“Wanted to enjoy a lazy afternoon in the sun together.”
Jethro smiles and splays possessive hands on Tony’s hips only to have his thumb slip through the denim and find skin.
Tony makes a pleased noise and arches into Jethro, which only draws attention to the hole. Jethro looks down at his own hands a moment before removing them. It’s only Tony’s warm contentment that cools his irrational ire. Still his hands don’t drift to that spot again until the jeans are on the porch rail and Tony is gloriously naked in the new hammock.
The last corresponds with a tiny scar on Tony’s left calf and has been stitched up. The hap hazard x-shaped stitches in a cerulean blue mark it as Tony’s own handy work. Jethro likes that mark best- though he always apologizes for the injury- because he knows exactly how it got there.
Jethro looks up just as Tony begins his descent of the basement stairs. Tony looks just as he has a thousand times before, hair tousled, smile loose, jeans just so and it occurs to Jethro that this is it, this is what he wants to look up and see for the rest of his life.
“Marry me.”
Tony falters for a heartbeat before crossing the basement, “What no candlelight, soft music, romance?”
“Not our style.”
“Still, just ‘Marry me’?”
“Spend the rest of our lives brewing that horrible excuse for coffee you like, and dragging me outside to enjoy the sun. Complain about the laundry every Saturday and make me help wash the cars every other Sunday. And never, ever throw away these jeans.”
“When you put it like that I guess I have to marry you,” the tone is nonchalant but the delight is obvious in Tony’s kiss.
Jethro’s enthusiasm for both the kiss and the answer make him forget where they are and he only realizes he’s pressing Tony into the work bench when Tony moves quickly away, dropping into a crouch to clutch his left leg.
The cut is minor, closed with two stitches administered by an amused Ducky. Tony’s ordered into bed and Jethro is sent out to fetch dinner.
When he returns both the other men beam at him and Tony is working a needle and thread through his jeans.
Ducky speaks first, “It’s about time Jethro.”
He bites his tongue just before snarking at the doctor when he realizes the comment pertains to his proposal, not his return. “Tony didn’t seem to think so.”
“I was commenting on method- not timing.”
“You would’ve complained no matter what,” Jethro chides before claiming a kiss. He tugs the leg of the jeans, “Why mend this one?”
Tony grins brightly, “My fiancé asked me never to throw them away.”
War Wounds by CC
Author's Chapter Notes:
Tony owns a pair of jeans that look like they were dried in a war zone. These are a few of Gibbs' associations with those "war wounds."
Chapter End Notes:
Please bear with as I format this