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There were several things Gibbs noticed as he slowly woke up. The first was that he had a raging hangover. The second was that he wasn’t sleeping on his couch - rather, he was quite comfortable curled up next to someone in bed. The third thing (well, things really, since it was more of a one-two punch) was that he was curled up in bed with a man and his ass hurt.

Trying to ignore the implications of what that could mean, he extricated himself from his bedmate’s limpet-like grasp and staggered for the bathroom. A quick stop at the toilet was the first order of business followed by a stop by the sink. Splashing some water on his face, Gibbs slowly began to feel more alert, and took in his surroundings more. A peek into the medicine cabinet revealed something he never expected when he looked at the name on one of few prescription bottles inside.

Anthony DiNozzo


He glanced up in the mirror, took one look at the hickeys on his neck, and promptly freaked the fuck out.

Christ. He needed coffee.

Thankfully, whatever god forsaken contraption Tony had in his kitchen was set to a timer, so Gibbs was able to caffeinate himself fairly quickly before he began to work through the entire situation in his head.

After his first cup of coffee, Gibbs was mentally planning how he was going to ignore the fact that he’d let Tony fuck him. He was too old to be having a sexual identity crisis, goddammit!

Cup two involved him thinking about desperately trying (and failing) to either run or forget the entire matter even happened.

A third cup helped him realize that although the ache in his ass wasn’t entirely pleasant, he’d thoroughly enjoyed himself the night before.

It was over the fourth cup of coffee he realized that it wasn’t the fact that he’d had sex with a man that was bothering him, but the fact that it was a coworker - and DiNozzo at that. Despite his best efforts, he’d managed to not only break one of his concrete rules and act on a crush he’d sworn he’d never even think about. (Who the hell has a crush on someone when they’re in their fifties, for God‘s sake?)

The fifth cup brought about the revelation that he really wouldn’t mind it happening again; from what he recalled, Tony wouldn‘t mind either. With that, Rule 12 went up in flames and crumbled into a smoldering pile of ashes right in front of him.

A sixth (and final) cup reminded him of a vague threat he’d made the night before.

I'm getting you back in the morning.

Smirking as he remember how Tony had sleepily accepted what he said, Gibbs headed back to the bedroom.
Chapter End Notes:
Sorry about the delay and me totally making the fic FUBAR... I still don't know how to use this stupid website *facepalm* I fixed it now, though.
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