The Handyman's Dream
Chapter 3 - The Bastard
Tony lay there, exhausted. To say he was sated was an understatement. He was not only impressed by Gibbs' stamina but was overwhelmed by his generosity and adventurous spirit. Tony snuggled closer to his lover, keeping his hands warm under the sweater Gibbs still wore, occasionally playing with his chest hair. He'd long since lost his clothing - sweater and silk underwear - including his socks, but he was wrapped in the arms of the man he'd secretly coveted for a long time now. That alone was enough to keep him warm. Tony sighed and was rewarded by Gibbs' hand stroking his back and then pulling him even closer.
There was a kiss on the top of his head. Tony raised his face in a blatant plea for a kiss to be placed on his lips and Gibbs complied without any fuss. Tony moaned into the kiss, wondering where Gibbs had learned his technique. From women or from men? Not that he cared, so long as in the future Gibbs didn't share his kisses with anyone else. Tony deepened the kiss in an attempt to possess the man he was afraid he was in love with.
Gibbs smiled into the kiss and then rolled on top of Tony, his mouth and hands exploring. He loved Tony's intense reaction to his touch. "God, why didn't we do this sooner?"
"I wanted you to," Tony whispered. "I did. I wanted you so badly but…"
"I thought you'd…wasn't sure you'd be interested in me," Gibbs confessed. "There's always been a line. Stepping over it might have made you hate me."
"Never." Tony smiled and let his hand slide down to fondle Jethro's balls and cock. "I've always been interested in you, Jethro, though maybe if you'd invited me up here a year ago I might not have been so…"
Gibbs raised an eyebrow and teased, "So easy?" Pressure was exerted on his dick, hard enough to make him wince. "Hey!" He stroked and twisted Tony's cock in return.
"It must have been fate," murmured Tony. "Oh, do that again…Oh my God…Fate kept us apart. It made us wait until we were good and ready. And am I ever ready." He panted and his eyes half closed in reaction to the wonderful things Gibbs was doing to his dick, but he kept on talking. "If my apartment hadn't imploded…faucet…toilet…damned water…locks…bed…Everything except my car went wrong. You're the only right thing that's happened to me, Gibbs."
"I don't believe in fate, DiNozzo," Gibbs said gruffly. "Enough talking. Let me take care of you."
Tony did as he was told and shut up then wriggled under Gibbs' weight, the friction causing both of their dicks to harden. After that he settled back to enjoy the way Gibbs took care of his every need.
***
A long, hot shower together, lots of coffee and a good breakfast made up for their lack of sleep. Tony insisted on wearing what he now called Gibbs' sex-kitten sweater to work, even though Gibbs frowned at the name. "Tony, we've got a long day to get through before we…" He made a motion with his hand that encompassed both of them and the upstairs bedroom. "Don't distract me at work," he ordered.
"Wouldn't dream of it." Tony lifted the sweater to his nose and inhaled. "My sweater smells of you now." Tony wrapped his arms around Gibbs and kissed him slowly. "I can't wait for tonight. There will be a tonight, won't there?"
"Damn right there will be." Gibbs gave Tony a long, wet kiss in return. Eventually he sighed and released his hold on the younger man. "Gotta get back to the grind, Tony."
***
Gibbs had to make a phone call before they headed off to work so he sat in the kitchen draining another cup of coffee while he took care of business.
Tony was hanging around when he remembered he had to retrieve his overcoat from the unused guest bedroom. He picked up his coat from where he'd dropped it on the single, lonely bed. Tony left the bedroom, closing the door behind him, but after he shrugged into his coat he stood in the hallway for a minute. Something was bothering him and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The toolbox. The red toolbox that Gibbs had shoved out of the way last night. Slowly he went back into the bedroom and crouched down to open the lid of the metal box.
There was something about that shallow top tray that gave him pause. It was in a jumble since everything had spilled out the night before. All together were those washers and screws and bits and pieces that had been tossed back in. Looking at the small objects reminded him of a child's party game where kids were given a short amount of time to study unrelated items laid out on a tray. After the tray was taken away you'd write down every item you could remember. He'd been a whiz at that game, with his good observation skills. There was something about these unrelated items…
He closed his eyes: washers in rubber and plastic, brass and copper. Screws of various sizes. A handle of some sort like a lever, a small metal gizmo with tumblers and…Tony spread out the bits and pieces on the floor, like evidence from an ongoing case, and picked up the small tumbler mechanism. It was an old-fashioned lock. The kind he had in his apartment. He knew this because he'd taken his front door lock apart one day to see how it worked and had a terrible time getting it back in working order. He looked at it closely. There, in very small letters, was the brand name - DNZ. He remembered it well because the initials were close to his surname. This wasn't just any lock, this was his lock. In Gibbs' toolbox.
What was Gibbs doing with the lock from Tony's apartment? The washers looked about the right size to have come from a shower head, and the smaller ones from a faucet. There was a part that looked suspiciously like a toilet component. Who knew what these other parts belonged to? Maybe the heating system? The fridge?
None of it proved anything, but when Tony stood up the little suspicion grew and grew until it burst and Tony knew, just knew that all of his apartment woes, all the breakdowns and inconveniences and being left homeless on the coldest night of the year was Gibbs' doing. No, no…he couldn’t have. He wouldn’t.
And why didn't Abby answer her phone earlier yesterday evening? And Tim - he would never ignore a call from Tony in case it was about the job. But everyone had either not picked up or made excuses.
His wallet, Tony realized angrily …that, too. He was sure it had been in his pocket when they'd returned from the case yesterday yet Gibbs had convinced him it was locked up in the car being repaired. Was that another ploy he'd engineered in order to…to what? Was all of this was done to force Tony in a certain direction, to get him to come to Gibbs' house, and into Gibbs' waiting arms?
How could Gibbs do that to him? It was invasive, manipulative, dishonest…Tony clenched his jaw and tried to control his growing anger. His face was hot, his heart racing and he was so pissed that if Gibbs had walked into the room at that moment Tony wouldn't have been able to control himself. He'd knock his lights out, strangle him, punch him…
As quickly as Tony's anger had grown it departed and in its place was left an odd feeling. To think that Gibbs had gone to all that trouble just because he wanted to have him in his bed, to sleep with him. It was enough to make a man feel wanted, all warm and fuzzy inside. Tony shook his head. What an idiot Gibbs was! He could have made it known a lot earlier he was interested in a horizontal tango. Just a hint would have done, an after-work drink, a touch and an honest look into his eyes. Why, he could have just asked…simply invited Tony home with him and taken it from there. Or asked him out on a date, to a movie and dinner with wine and maybe a little dancing.
No, that wasn't Gibbs's style at all. Maybe he was scared to be upfront about it. Concerned about Tony's reaction. His big, brave Marine gunny sergeant must have been afraid of rejection! Tony laughed to himself at the picture of Gibbs sneaking around his apartment, sabotaging the plumbing with a screwdriver and wrench. Such a simple man yet such a complicated plan of attack.
Gibbs interrupted Tony's thoughts by shouting up the stairs that he was done with his phone call. "Gotta go to the head then we should leave."
There was no way that Gibbs was going to get away with this. Tony grabbed a screwdriver from the toolbox and hurried down the stairs. "I'm on my way. I think my car's behind yours." Grinning, he took a moment to pull Gibbs' cell phone out of his overcoat to remove the battery. Tony replaced the phone in Gibbs' coat, slipped on his boots and ran out into the sunny, chill morning. Gibbs' car was parked in the driveway; he quickly lifted the hood. It only took him five seconds to find the wire he needed, and another five to loosen it. Tony slowly and carefully lowered the hood, cringing at the solid thunk it made when it settled into place.
He was in his car, backing it out onto the street when Gibbs sauntered out of his house. The older man waved at Tony with a big smile.
Tony smiled right back, and muttered, "Bastard." Sunglasses on and music tuned in, the heat cranked up, and he was ready to go. He waited for Gibbs to back his car out and head off down the road before following him at a much slower speed. Gibbs' car drew away from Tony at the next stoplight and it was soon out of sight.
A couple of miles along Tony saw Gibbs' sedan pulled over at the side of the road, so he stopped next to it and lowered his passenger window a few inches. He pulled his sunglasses down his nose and looked over them. "Something wrong, sailor?"
Gibbs, with cell phone in hand, looked seriously pissed. "Car sputtered and stopped. Damn phone isn't working, either. Give me a hand, Tony."
Tony pushed his sunglasses back up his nose. Draping his right arm along the back of the car seat, he made a show of thinking about it. Gibbs meanwhile was looking fit to be tied. "You know something, Jethro," Tony said casually. "I think you're just gonna have to figure this one out on your own, seeing as you're so handy."
"What? Get the hell out here, DiNozzo."
"Mmm, nope. See, I think what we're dealin' with here is a failure to communicate. You really need to learn to be more direct, Jethro." He hardened his voice and ordered, "I want to see you at my place right after work. You are going to put back every single screw and washer and whatever the hell you removed from my apartment. You will fix my bed and my lock and the shower and fridge and damn-well everything. When and only when I'm totally satisfied that everything is exactly as it should be, will I even consider letting you in my bed. And if you're very good about asking I will even let you fuck me this time. Is that clear, Mr. Handyman?"
Looking furious and a more than a little guilty, Gibbs braced his hands on Tony's car door, his face an inch from the glass of the window. "You cannot do this, Tony." He tried the door handle but it was locked and Tony only grinned at the man's frustration.
"You know something, boss? I'm so gonna love having my own personal handyman. See you at work!" With that he took off, laughing at the bemused look on his boss's face and enjoying the warm feeling he had thinking about the fun he was going to have that night…and on many more nights. Oh yes, they made a great couple.
***end***
Note: The plot bunny was along the lines of - What if Gibbs engineered something to go wrong at Tony's apartment in order to force him to stay over at Gibbs' home?
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