Introductions 3
by
Angelise
+++++++
“Shit.”
Jack looked down at his jeans and the pocket that was ringing incessantly. He shifted the grocery bags in his right hand to his left and listed slightly in that direction when the extra weight overbalanced him. With a critical eye, he measured the distance from where he stood to where he had parked his truck and decided whoever was calling could wait just a few more seconds.
Redistributing the weight of the nearly dozen bags he carried, Jack hurried in the direction of his truck and cursed again when his cellphone quit ringing the exact moment he rid himself of his burdens. “Whoever came up with the rule that says macho men don’t use shopping carts to haul their stuff to their vehicles was full of crap.”
Jack, of course, would be the last to admit that the reason he elected to go the macho route this particular day was the drop dead gorgeous hunk that had been standing behind him in the grocery line. The man had made no bones about the way he was checking out Jack’s ass, and the Air Force Colonel was more than happy to carry his bags to his truck so that he could flex all of his muscles.
Glancing over his shoulder, Jack looked for ‘Mr. Big Feet, Hopefully Big Dick’ guy. His ego and muscles deflated immediately when he saw his admirer slip into the arms of another man. “Damn,” Jack mumbled and dejectedly ran his hand through his short graying hair. Things were getting a little lonely at the O’Neill Hacienda, and he would really have enjoyed doing the horizontal mambo with someone other than his right hand.
His jeans began to ring again just as he was inserting his key into the doorlock. “O’Neill,” Jack barked once he dug his cellphone out of his back pocket. Before he could identify the caller, his attention was captured by the midnight black Hummer passing to his left and the two men inside waving at him. A monster-size cucumber flew out the vehicle’s open window in his direction. Jack caught the vegetable missile and couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw the phone number carved in its green skin. The image his sex-starved libido fed his brain distracted him, and it was several seconds before he heard the muted voice calling his name.
“Jack? Jack, my boy, are you there? Hello?”
Sliding inside his truck, Jack cleared the lust clogging his throat and answered hoarsely, “Ducky? Is that you?”
“Hello, Jack. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
Jack looked down at the Mighty O’Neill and grimaced at its dispirited state. “It’s been a bad time for quite a while, Ducky. What can I do for you?”
“It will get better, my boy.”
Pulling down the sun visor above the steering wheel, Jack stared at the picture of Daniel Jackson he had liberated from Samantha’s home and hidden there. No matter what his head told him about Daniel’s ascension, his heart still missed the young archeologist in the worst way. Shoving the visor shut, he put his emotions back into the box he kept them safely locked in and inquired of his friend, “How are things with you? Your last email indicated you had hired a new assistance. Gerald’s his name, right?”
Jack started up the truck and carefully pulled out of its parking spot. “Tell me, Ducky, is he a hottie? Hung like a horse?”
“Jonathan O’Neill! I cannot believe your audacity. Gerald is my assistant. Not to mention I have quite a few years on the dear boy. It would be improp---.”
“Aw, come on, Ducky, you’re old, not dead,” Jack interrupted. “Don’t tell me you haven’t been ogling the merchandise?”
There was a moment of silence followed by the clearing of a throat which had Jack laughing aloud as he pulled into traffic. “Give it up. Just how fine is Gerald’s ass?”
“Magnificent, I must admit,” Ducky answered with a chuckle of embarrassment. “I find myself daydreaming about it quite often.”
“You old pervert, you.” Jack shifted gears as the truck picked up speed. “And just when are you going to do more than fantasize? Time’s a wasting, Ducky. Nail the boy’s ass and be quick about it.”
“Thank you, Dear Abby. Your words of wisdom astound me.”
Turning onto the interstate, Jack glanced over at the cucumber riding shotgun beside him and made a mental note of its engraved phone number. “Life’s too short, Ducky. You know it, I know it. If you like this Gerald, go after him. It’s a hell of a lot better than sitting around wondering what could have been.”
“And does this advice also apply to yourself?”
Jack picked up the cucumber and slid it between his legs, bumping it against his crotch several times before tucking it firmly in place. “As of today, Ducky, they’re the words I plan on living by. To the max to be exact.”
“I’m glad to hear that, my boy; for I have a feeling your belief in that particular piece of advice is about to be put to test.”
Jack’s curiosity was immediately peaked. One month ago his friend had tried to set him up with a colleague of his, and even though . . . Jack nearly hit the brake when the reason for Ducky's call slapped him in the face. “This has something to do with Jethro, doesn’t it?” Suddenly anxious to get home, Jack shifted his foot away from the brake and pressed down hard on the accelerator. “What’s the bastard done now?”
“Not more than thirty minutes ago Jethro came striding in my office demanding I give him your phone number.”
“And did you?” Jack lowered his hand to his crotch and pressed the cucumber against the rising bulge that would soon be testing the strength of his zipper. “Tell me you gave him my number, Ducky.” Jethro Gibbs’ face rose up before him, and with it came a lightening flash of heat that went straight to Jack’s groin.
“Of course, I did. Especially after I got a close look at his . . . hmmm . . . how should I put this without sounding crude?”
“Gibbs had a boner. Is that what you’re trying to say?” Jack exited the interstate and took the turnoff on two wheels. His jeans were almost to the point of strangling his erection, and even popping loose the top button provided him absolutely no relief. “Ducky, is there something you’re not telling me? Is there something going on with Gibbs that I should know about?”
“Jethro is getting married tomorrow.”
Jack’s curses turned the air blue inside his truck. “You’re shitting me, right? Gibbs is really going to marry that walking carrot stick with boobs? The man’s a fucking idiot.”
“I, myself, wouldn’t have put it so bluntly, but yes, Jethro is a fucking idiot.”
Pulling into the driveway leading to his home, Jack chuckled at Ducky's lapse in propriety. “Why do you think he wanted my phone number? Think he wants me to talk him out of marrying what’s her name?”
“I have no idea, Jack. Jethro’s intentions are not always the easiest to predict. But I will say he looked as if he was barely hanging onto to his control. A control I might add he normally rules with an iron fist. Be careful, my boy, it might not be a friendly phone call you receive.”
Tossing the cucumber aside, Jack slid out of his truck and shut the door, leaning against it and gazing at the horizon and the colors spilling across its expanse from the setting sun. “Thanks for the head’s up, Ducky. If Gibbs wants a final tussle with me before hitching himself to another woman, then I’m up for it. Literally.”
“Bravo, Jack. I knew you were the man for the job.”
“Damn straight,” Jack agreed.
Ducky laughed. “As you so eloquently put it, Jack, nail Jethro’s ass and be quick about it.” The ME paused for a second as if in thought. “Is that something you can do over the phone? Nail someone’s ass?”
Jack stroked his burgeoning erection. “I’ll have to let you know, Ducky. Phone sex is not exactly my forte. I’m more a ‘hands on’ kinda guy. But don’t you worry. I’m more than up for the challenge, if you get my drift.”
“Too bad we couldn’t make Jethro’s call to you a conference call. I would give anything to hear his reaction when you nail his ass.”
“Ducky! You dirty old son of a bitch.”
“Hopefully Gerald will soon agree with that particular assessment,” Ducky wickedly replied. “Call me tomorrow, Jack. I want details, graphic details if you get my drift.”
Jack echoed Ducky's hearty laughter before bidding his friend a fond farewell. “Talk to you later, Ducky.”
“Good-bye, Jack. And . . . happy nailing!”
+++++++
Jack stood next to his telescope and flipped the cap from his beer bottle into the rusted paint can that sat in the far corner of the porch deck below. “Two points,” he crowed victoriously when the cap hit dead center. Throwing his arms in the air, Jack suggestively swiveled his hips in an x-rated dance that would not only surprise the hell out of his co-workers but his elderly neighbors as well. “There may be snow on the roof but there’s definitely a raging fire below. Jack O’Neill, my boy, you’ve still got the moves.”
Glancing at his watch, Jack checked the time. “Now, if Gibbs would get his ass in gear and call, I’d be more than happy to put those moves on him.”
The phone rang a little less than an hour after he began his nightly perusal of the stars. “’Bout time,” Jack mumbled. Grabbing up the cordless device, he checked the caller id and grinned when he recognized the number’s area code. It had to be Gibbs. Who else but Ducky or Gibbs would be calling him from that part of the country?
Aware that Grandpa and Granny Chandler might not appreciate a display of the Mighty O’Neill, Jack moved back inside before answering the ringing phone. “Hello, Gibbs,” he answered smugly while clicking on his widescreen TV and making himself comfortable on the couch.
There was a long pause before Jethro’s voice came over the line. “Ducky called you I assume?”
“He did, and my, what an interesting conversation we had.”
“Fuck.”
“Now, I wouldn’t say we got that far, but the subject did come up briefly.” Jack loosened the tie on the waistband of his sweats. “Oh wait, scratch that. The subject came up fast and hard and demanded immediate satisfaction.” Immediate as in the second after Jack had entered his home. Groceries and semen spilled onto the floor when Jack gave into the fantasy of nailing Jethro’s ass to the wall, to the floor and basically to every hard surface available for fucking.
Jack grinned at the sound of Jethro’s aborted groan. “How’s your weapon, Marine? Ducky tells me it was primed for action the last time he saw you.”
“My weapon is none of your fucking business.”
“Is that so? Then why is it standing at attention? It is standing at attention, isn’t it? I’d bet a year’s wages that your dick is as hard as a rock and leaking all over your white regulation boxers.” Tucking the phone beneath his ear, Jack slipped his hand inside his sweats and fisted his own hardening shaft.
“You bastard. I should have known better than to have called you.”
“Why did you call me, then? Why did you ask Ducky for my phone number?”
“I . . . I wanted to . . . .”
The hesitancy in Jethro’s voice cooled the heat in Jack’s groin and he released his cock. “Talk to me, Gibbs.”
“I’m getting married tomorrow, dammit.”
“And?” Jack asked. “What do you want from me? Congratulations? Condemnation?”
“I want . . . hell, O’Neill, I don’t know what I want.”
Jack could plainly hear the frustration in Jethro’s voice. It was a frustration he knew well. “You know exactly what you want, Gibbs. You’re just too chicken shit to admit.”
“Why you son of a bitch.”
“Don’t talk about my momma that way. She was a grand lady.” Jack took a sip of his beer before continuing. “Let’s play truth or dare, Gibbs. I dare you to truthfully answer my questions.”
Jack took the ensuing silence as Jethro’s agreement to his challenge. “Are you or are you not interested in men?” The silence continued, and Jack softened his voice to an empathetic whisper. “Come on, Gibbs. Answer me.”
“Yes.”
Jethro’s answer was so quiet and so subdued Jack almost thought he had imagined it. “When you dream, do you dream about fucking men or women?”
“Men.”
“What makes you throw a rod? A good looking man or a woman?”
“Jesus Christ, O’Neill. Enough with the twenty questions.”
Jack gracefully rolled off the couch and went in search of another beer. “Just answer the question, tough guy. What gender gets your blood boiling? Male or female?”
“Male, okay? You satisfied, Fly Boy?”
Ignoring Jethro’s sarcasm, Jack resumed his seat on the couch and took a long draw on his beer. Wiping his mouth, he slid his hand back inside his slacks and played with the foreskin of his penis. “And just whose ass do you want to bury your big boy in? Mine or the future Mrs. Gibbs.”
“Yours, dammit. Yours.”
“Then why in the hell are you marrying that woman? Unless I slept through Homosexuality 101, you’re fucking gay, Gibbs. And if I was standing in front of you right now, you’d drop to your knees and beg for the chance to blow me again. Am I right, Gibbs? Answer me! Am I right?”
“Yes, fuck you, yes!”
The strain in Jethro’s voice was unmistakable and that tender spot in Jack’s heart kicked into gear and throbbed with the need to comfort the tormented man on the other end of the line. “Jethro, calm down,” Jack said softly, using Gibbs’ first name in hopes the man would hear the sincerity in his voice. “I’m here as your friend, not your enemy.”
“It’s so fucking complicated.” Jethro’s voice broke. “You . . . you don’t understand.”
“Jethro, believe me, I do understand. What happened? What happened that made you turn your back on who you are?” For some odd reason Jack could visualize Jethro closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose before offering his answer.
“My first CO, once he found out I was gay, beat and raped me almost every day. It went on for nearly six months before it stopped.”
“Shit.”
Anger flowed like quicksilver through Jack’s veins as thoughts of revenge took up residence in his mind. He knew people who knew people, and by god, the second he found out the man’s name the bastard would be taking a long walk off a short pier. “Dammit, Jethro, why didn’t you report the guy?”
“I was only eighteen, Jack, and scared shitless. Not only that, but the man threatened to do the same to my lover, and I couldn’t allow that to happen. Nathan was an innocent farmboy from Idaho and would never have survived such treatment.”
The bottle in Jack’s hand shattered, and he stared unseeingly at the puddle of beer staining his newly polished wood floor. Stripping off his top, he carefully wiped his hand, thankful the shards of glass had not cut his skin. He then dropped the navy blue-colored sweatshirt over the mess on the floor and promptly forgot it.
“Jesus, no wonder you’re screwed in the head.”
“Thanks, Jack. That’s a real comfort.”
A smile of chagrin broke out as Jack mumbled an apology. “Sorry. You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, yeah, I do.”
“Tell me the bastard stepped on a minefield and died a grisly death.”
“No, not exactly.”
Jack heard the pain hidden deep within Jethro’s voice. “What happened? What got you away from him?”
“When Nathan finally figured out what was going on, he slit the man’s throat and then hung himself. It was one of the darkest moments in my life, Jack.”
“Dear God, Jethro. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, you and me both.”
Jack slouched down further on the couch and wished Jethro was lying beside him. He wanted the man in his arms, wanted to feel Gibbs’ solid male body molded tightly to his. His heart ached to comfort Jethro with a hug that would heal his grief-stricken soul. “Dammit, it still doesn’t answer the question why you’re marrying that woman tomorrow.”
“I . . . it’s a pattern I can’t break, Jack. The damage has been done, and I can’t seem to fix it.”
Stroking his hand over his bare chest, Jack closed his eyes and whispered intimately, “I bet I could fix it. That’s if you wanted me to.”
Jethro sighed, and Jack plainly heard the man’s longing to be healed. “I want you to, Jack. You have no idea how much I want you to.”
Desire hit him like a freight train, and Jack groaned at the image of him making love to the former Marine. “I want you, Jethro. Want to be inside that tight ass of yours hearing you scream as I fuck you into oblivion.”
“For Christ’s sake, Jack. Are you trying to make me c---”
“Yes! That’s exactly what I want to do. Let me love you, Jethro. Let me love you right now, here on the phone.”
“You’re crazy.”
“So I’ve been told by way too many so-called friends. But that’s beside the point. Don’t tell me your ass isn’t twitching as we speak, Jethro. It wants my dick. Slow and deep or fast and hard. Tell me, Jethro. Tell me that’s what you want.”
If lust could be assigned a sound Jack knew it would be the sound he could hear coming from the man on the other end of the line. The moan that invaded the silence slithered inside his ear and worked its way down his throat, catching on his heart before punching him in the gut and causing him to jerk awkwardly on his shaft.
“Tell me you’re naked. Tell me you’ve shoved your pants down around your knees and that your dick is flying high, leaving wet smears all over your belly.” Before he stopped speaking, Jack had his sweats pulled down to his ankles. He hurriedly kicked them off, falling backwards on the couch completely naked and laughing hard enough to make beer shoot out his nose.
“Jack, oh . . . fuck.”
Jethro’s panting was loud in his ear and Jack grinned. “Tell me you own a dildo, a vibrator. Jethro. Jethro!”
“Yesssss.”
“Get it. Lube it. Shove it up your ass. NOW!”
Jack braced his feet on the cushions below him, and lifting his hips in the air, offered his erection to the man he wanted so badly he could taste it. “Jethro? Are you there?”
“Jack, it’s ti . . . so tight. Your . . . oh shit.”
“Tight. Yeah, your ass is tight. It’s so fucking tight, it’s strangling my dick. God, I can almost feel it.” Rolling side to side on the couch, Jack continued fisting his erection with one hand while clutching at his balls with his other.
“It’s . . . you’re in, all the way in. Fuck me, Jack. Fuck me hard.”
“I am, babe. Your legs are hooked over my shoulders, and I’m riding you so damn fast and hard, it’s almost shoving you through the mattress.” His eyes falling helplessly shut, Jack gnawed on his bottom lip, stifling the cries that would surely bring his caring busy body neighbors running to his door.
“Touch me, Jack. I need . . . need to feel your hands on me.”
“My hands are already there. They’re sliding down your thighs, tugging on the hair surrounding your beautiful dick, sliding up its length and circling the head. I don’t linger there, though. Your tits are begging to be tortured, and I’m just the man for it.”
“Yes, do it. Bite them, suck them. Eat ‘em until I scream for mercy.”
“You’re gonna scream, Jethro. You’re gonna scream my name so loud, it’ll bring the roof down.” Letting go of his balls, Jack stretched his hand further back, moaning harshly as his middle finger breached his hole. Yes, he was topping Jethro now, but Jack had no qualms about playing bottom for the ex-Marine. He would love to have his ass rimmed and fucked to the max by the man.
“Close . . . I’m so close, Jack. Take me over edge.”
Jack shoved his finger all the way in and clenched his anal muscles around the invading digit. “I ram my dick home, so fucking deep, Jethro, you can taste it in your mouth. You buck your hips off the mattress and howl like a wild banshee. I wrap my hands around your rod and start fisting it so fast it nearly sets your flesh on fire.”
“Yes. Oh fuck, Jack. I . . . I . . . JAAAAACK!”
Semen sprayed his abdomen as Jack added his yell to that of Jethro’s. Unconcerned that his roof may cave in from the noise, Jack surrendered to the climax that blew his mind to smithereens and had him nearly dropping the phone and falling off the couch. Tucking the phone firmly in place again, he slumped back down on the cushions and struggled for air while listening intently to the sound of Jethro letting go of his precious control.
The noises the man was making ignited the smoldering fire in Jack’s groin all over again, and he quickly clamped his hand around the base of his cock to keep from coming again. The Mighty O’Neill was fast on the draw, but Jack had other plans, plans which included both the anal beads and remote-controlled bullets he kept in the dresser next to his bed. “You ain’t seen nothing yet, Gibbs.” Grinning wickedly, Jack prayed Jethro had the funds to pay for the marathon event of phone sex the two of them were about to embark upon.
“Jethro?” he called softly. “Babe, are you still with me?” Waiting for Jethro to answer, Jack idly ran his fingers through the mess coating his belly. He then lifted them to his mouth and sucked them clean. “Jethro? Helloooooo? Anyone home?”
“Jesus, Jack. My ass is sore, and my brain is mush.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” Feeling slightly chilled and more than a bit awed by what had just passed between the two of them, Jack trembled. “Good enough to put a halt to the charade you’re considering entering into tomorrow?”
The second the words left his mouth, Jack knew he had said the wrong thing, and Jethro’s response proved him right.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?”
Jethro’s question was terse and totally void of the hunger that had driven his voice to a low husky rumble just minutes before. Unexpectedly mourning the loss of that sound and the intimacy of their brief moment together, Jack cursed softly under his breath. “Shit.”
“I asked you a question, O’Neill.”
Jack sat up and rubbed his hands over his face, doing nothing to prevent the sigh of frustration that escaped into the silence. “Gibbs, you can’t tell me you’re still going through with that farce? Not after this. Dammit, man, you’re gay. Not to mention you just admitted you wanted my ass not hers. How in the hell can you turn your back on what we just shared and climb into bed with her?”
“Whose bed I climb into is none of your damn business.”
Jack considered throwing his bottle of beer at the nearest wall but decided against it; one mess a night was enough to clean up. Besides, he’d rather slam it upside the head of one stubborn ex-Marine.
“Jethro, it is my business.” Tucking the phone under his ear, Jack collected his discarded sweatpants and pulled them back on. He was about to grab the bull by the horns and doing so naked didn’t seem quite the smart thing to do. “Now, this is gonna sound like it’s coming from way out in left field and considering my current situation, it probably is but here goes . . . .” Sucking in a deep breath, Jack stood and stated quietly, “I want you in my life, Jethro.”
“I’m not interested in being your fuck buddy, O’Neill.”
“Good, ‘cause that’s not what I’m offering here.”
Jack hooked a finger in the waistband of his sweats and pulled them low enough for him to scratch at the patch of drying semen covering his lower belly. “I’m too old for that kind of shit. Besides, at this point in my life, I’m more interested in a stable relationship. I want someone I can trust, feel secure with. Someone I can come home to or in our case, call on the phone each and every night so that I can whine about how bad or gloat about how good my day was.”
Jack glanced down the hallway that led to his bedroom and thought of the new king-sized bed he had just purchased. Every time he crawled under the covers the vacant space next to him became a harsh reminder of how truly alone he was despite his hectic life. ‘Yeah, and Daniel would be the first one in line to kick my butt for not doing something about it,’ Jack thought ruefully.
His knees suddenly weak, Jack resumed his seat. It wasn’t every day he popped the question. Hell, to be honest, he couldn’t even remember ever doing so with a man. Talk about a night for firsts.
Taking his pride and his heart in hand, he laid everything on the line and simply confessed, “Excuse the sentimental mush, but I want love, Jethro. And I’d like to think I’d get my wish if you’d just give us half a chance. What about it? You willing to join me on this adventure?”
His confession was met with complete silence. Seconds stretched into minutes, and if it hadn’t been for the sound of Jethro’s rapid breathing, Jack would have sworn the connection between them had been broken.
“Damn you, O’Neill,” Jethro finally managed to spit out. “In less than twelve hours I’ll be getting married. How dare you lay that on me now.”
“How dare I?” Jack sputtered angrily. “What about how dare you enter into a relationship based on a lie? How can you promise to love, honor and obey that woman when you know damn well you won’t?”
“You don’t know me at all. If I promise to do something, you can bet your ass I will.”
“Liar. You’re a fucking liar,” Jack yelled. Jumping to his feet, he paced the area between the couch and the backdoor, frantic to prevent Gibbs from making the biggest mistake of his life. “You want me, Jethro. You want me like you’ve never wanted anyone before. For God’s sake man, don’t cheat your heart of the one thing it so desperately needs.”
“This conversation is over. Good-bye, Jack.”
“Jethro, please. Wait! Don’t do thi---”
A familiar pain ripped through his chest, and Jack dropped to his knees just short of the couch clutching the phone to his ear. For several seconds, he remained there, listening to the disgusting sound of a dial tone. “This is not over, Gibbs,” Jack promised vehemently. “Not by a long shot.” Lifting his gaze to the TV, he watched as the famous fisherman, Bobby Meadows reeled in a monster-size bass. Immediately an idea sprung to mind.
Hitting speed dial, Jack called his oldest friend.
“Ducky, sorry to bother you so late, but I think I’m gonna need some help reeling in Gibbs. Wanna tell me where and when the bastard is getting married tomorrow?”
+++++++
“I do not understand the importance of positioning ourselves in this particular location, O’Neill. Please explain again why we must guard the entry to this room? It does not appear to be in any danger.”
Keeping his eyes focused on the door across the hall, Jack grinned when an approaching stranger nearly fell flat on his face trying to get away from the formidable Jaffa blocking the doorway to the men’s restroom. “Let’s just say my rendezvous with Gibbs requires the utmost privacy.”
“Could you not secure a more suitable meeting place for your encounter with this man?”
Jack glanced at Teal’c and the wicked smile on his face caused the Jaffa to frown.
“I believe you are, as Daniel Jackson would say, up to no good, O’Neill.”
“Oh, I’m up, Teal’c. No doubt about that. I’m definitely up.” Jack tugged on the waistband of his slacks in an unsuccessful attempt at creating more room for his unruly erection. “Jethro better show his face soon. This monkey suit is getting damn uncomfortable.”
“If you would attempt to exercise control over the inappropriate thoughts you are entertaining about this stranger, O’Neill, the clothes you are wearing would not be such a hindrance to your manhood.”
Jack squeaked with surprise when a large hand slapped him on the butt. He quickly shifted his gaze to the alien standing beside him and scowled when he saw the smug look on Teal’c’s face. “Smartass,” he said.
“I do not believe it is my ass that is smarting because it was rejected by the Tauri warrior we are lying in wait for.”
“I was not rejected,” Jack insisted, poking his rather large friend in the chest. “Jethro’s confused. Doesn’t know what’s best for him.”
“And you believe that you are what’s best for him?”
“You ain’t whistlin’ Dixie, my friend. The Mighty O’Neill is exactly what the doctor ordered for our illustrious Jethro Gibbs.”
“I hope you will not be offended if I withhold judgment on your claim, O’Neill.”
“Believe me, Teal’c, Jethro will be a million times better off with me at his si--- Shit, here he comes. Get ready.”
Having cased the joint earlier, Jack knew Jethro would have to pass by the men’s restroom on his way out of the courthouse, thus making it the perfect spot to nab his victim. “Oh yeah, oh yeah,” he chanted. “Gonna get me some loving. Some down and dirty loving.” Jack sneaked a glance over his shoulder before slipping in behind Teal’c so that the approaching NCIS agent would not see him lurking in the doorway. “Come on you sweet thing. Come to Papa.”
Jack paid no attention to Teal’c’s snort of exasperation. Instead he focused all his concentration on the unsuspecting man walking toward them, and the second Jethro drew abreast of Teal’c, Jack sprung into action.
“Now, Teal’c! Grab him.”
In the blink of an eye, Jaffa and Tauri came face to face, and Jethro, unfortunately, was no match for the legendary warrior. Before he could utter a word or even lift a hand to pull his weapon, Jethro was caught by the scruff of his neck and tossed effortlessly inside the deserted restroom. His unexpected flight through the air landed him squarely in Jack’s welcoming arms.
“Fancy meeting you here, Gibbs,” Jack cheerfully greeted his prisoner. Wasting no time, Jack wrapped his arms around Jethro’s lean form and expertly pinned him in place. Obscenities in several languages were heaped upon his head, but Jack chose to ignore them all. He was more interested in looking his fill of the infuriated agent and was amazed to discover his memory had not done the man justice. Blue eyes blazing with anger, his features flushed, Jethro was even more handsomer than Jack remembered. “God, you’re sexy when you’re mad,” he confessed without hesitation.
His comment effectively silenced Jethro’s tirade, and Jack took full advantage of the situation. He locked lips with the ex-Marine, stalling any and all protests that were possibly still percolating in his brain. Their tongues battled for supremacy, but Jack was determined to win and pulled out all stops.
Knocking Jethro’s legs apart, he insinuated his knee between them and boldly rubbed it against Jethro’s crotch. A breathless moan greeted the discovery of his companion’s blatant desire. “Oooh! What do we have here? Are you packing a concealed weapon, Agent Gibbs?” Jack pushed his knee harder against Jethro’s erection and laughed when trembling fingers clawed at his hips.
“Promise to play nice?” Jack whispered between kisses. His answer came in the form of Jethro slamming against him with his hips. “I take it that’s a yes.”
Seizing Jethro’s mouth again, Jack slowly eased his arms away and grunted with surprise when Jethro attempted to take control by twisting them around and slamming him against the nearest wall.
“No, no, no,” he corrected Jethro, easily reversing their positions. Today’s agenda was all about Jack being top dog. Jack would do the talking. Jack would do the kissing. And most definitely, Jack would do the fucking.
“You’re mine, Special Agent Jethro Gibbs. Your ass, your mouth, your heart, your soul. Deny it all you want, but you know it’s true.”
Sinking one hand in the short strands of hair lying against the nape of Jethro’s neck, Jack tugged the man’s head back and attacked his throat, nipping and sucking on his Adam’s apple. Jethro was groaning incessantly by the time Jack moved his mouth north so that he could rim the outer shell of Jethro’s ear. “We belong together, babe. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you feel how right this is?” Jack punctuated his final question by grabbing Jethro’s ass and hauling him close. “This is where you want to be. In my arms, riding my dick, screaming my name.” Jack slid his hands down the back of Jethro’s thighs before whispering, “How can you deny what’s between us?”
Shifting his hands around to the front, Jack dug his nails into the expensive material of Jethro’s dress slacks and scraped the flesh beneath while slowly dragging his hands upward. The grin on his face broadened when he felt Jethro shiver uncontrollably. “I do believe your weapon is primed for action, Agent Gibbs.”
Jack took possession of Jethro’s erection, freeing the large organ from its cloth confinement and leisurely rubbing his callused palm over its silken head. “You have no idea how bad I want to nail your ass. Unfortunately, my colleague’s patience extends only so far when it comes to guarding public restrooms.” Dropping to his knees, Jack shoved Jethro’s pants down around his ankles. “This’ll have to do until I can get you home and in bed.”
Jack looked up and pinned Jethro with his hungry gaze, making sure his companion watched as he hefted the thick, wine-colored shaft onto his tongue and slowly pulled it inside his mouth. Wrapping his lips around the flared head, Jack speared its slitted opening with the tip of his tongue. Immediately Jethro went limp and his total capitulation was announced with a ragged sigh and the slight flexing of his hips.
“Jack, please,” Jethro whispered hoarsely. “It’s too . . . you don’t understand. I---”
‘I understand more than you know, lover,’ Jack thought as he swallowed the entire length of Jethro’s shaft down his throat. Grabbing his companion’s delectable ass, Jack went to work, sucking vigorously on the diamond-hard rod drilling his mouth. His gaze never left Jethro’s face, and he watched as the man thrashed his head from side to side, silencing his cries by gnawing on his bottom lip until it bled.
Soon the heady flavor of Jethro’s imminent orgasm teased his taste buds, and Jack re-doubled his efforts, his sucking turning voracious, driven by his need to taste what Jethro had been freely giving to those who would never bring him true satisfaction. ‘That’s it, babe. Give it to me. Give me your love.’
Collecting the densely furred testicles that were slapping his chin, Jack pressed them hard against Jethro’s perineum and mentally let out a yell of triumph when fingers clawed frantically at his shoulders. A second later Jethro lost all semblance of control and brutally rammed his cock down Jack’s throat. Eyes glazed over with passion and love, Jack growled his approval and was instantly rewarded with a flood of hot, bitter-tasting semen.
Only when the last drop was savored did Jack allow Jethro’s shaft to slip from his mouth. Resting his head against Jethro’s hip, he nuzzled the flaccid organ, kissing it and licking it and laughing softly when it twitched weakly in response.
“Jack, dear god, do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”
“How ‘bout, made you love me more than life itself, for starters?”
A long, drawn-out sigh answered him. “Jesus, Jack. If you only knew.”
Jethro’s left hand dropped down and tenderly stroked the side of his face. Jack turned toward it, branding its warmth with a loving kiss. “I hate to tell you this, partner, but I think you’re gonna have to help me off this floor. Damn knees aren’t worth shit nowadays.”
Reaching up, Jack took hold of Jethro’s hand and promptly forgot everything when his fingers encountered the ring Jethro was wearing. He stared at it, his brain refusing to accept what he was seeing. “A wedding band. You’re wearing a fucking wedding band,” he whispered gruffly.
Closing his eyes, Jack hid his face in the silky hair covering the thigh nearest him. “Dammit, Jethro. Why? Why’d you do it?”
Jethro’s voice was hushed, his touch gentle. “I gave my word, Jack. It was a matter of honor.”
‘What about love,’ Jack wanted to scream but instead he asked, “What about me? What about us?”
“I can’t answer that, Jack.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Jack brushed aside the hands that reached down to assist him. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he stumbled to his feet. “You’re a class act, Gibbs. A real bastard.”
“Jack, don’t.”
“Don’t what? Don’t hate you for making me love you? For making me look like a bigger fool than I already am?” Jack staggered to the closest sink and splashed his face with cold water. “God, I’m such an idiot.”
Jethro’s image appeared in the mirror beside his, and Jack had to forcibly harden his heart against the look of utter anguish on the man’s face. “Guess I should offer you my congratulations. Wish you a happy life with the new Mrs. Gibbs and all that.”
“Dammit, Jack. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Yeah, right. Bet you tell that to all the guys you fuck over.” Jack sidestepped the arms that reached out for him. “Oh wait. You don’t fuck guys. You only fuck women. Fuck ‘em and dump ‘em. Wonder how many more you’ll fuck and dump before you finally admit that you’re gay?”
Jack caught Jethro’s fist an inch before it connected with his face. “Touch me again and Mrs. Gibbs will be collecting widow’s benefits instead of wedding gifts.”
Risking it all one last time, Jack held onto Jethro’s fist for a full minute before anointing it with a good-bye kiss. “You’re gonna regret this one day, Gibbs, and when you do, don’t come knocking on my door. It only opens for those who are honest and true, and baby, that ain’t you.”
Jack dropped Jethro’s hand and turning on his heel, left without a backwards glance. He exited the restroom and walked straight into Teal’c’s open embrace. The hug was brief, one warrior comforting another, and Jack nearly lost it when Teal’c calmly offered to detach Jethro’s testicles with his bare hands.
“Maybe next time, big guy.”
Pulling out his sunshades, Jack slipped them on and surveyed his surroundings. “I’m starved. How ‘bout some breakfast? Didn’t we see a Denny’s around the corner from here?”
Not waiting to see if Teal’c was following his lead, Jack headed for the stairs. He took them three at a time and literally flew out the exit once he reached the bottom floor. His aching knees protested the abuse and demanded a time-out. Leaning against a nearby support column, Jack bent double and concentrated on breathing through the pain both in his heart and his knees. His knees cooperated with the relaxation technique but his heart refused, and Jack soon gave up trying to repair what would take months to heal.
“Damn you, Gibbs.”
Teal’c exited the stairwell just in time to hear Jack curse.
“My offer still stands, O’Neill.”
Jack greeted Teal’s steadfast loyalty with a forced smile. “Like I said, maybe next time.” Glancing at his watch, Jack noted the time. “Hey, instead of Denny’s, let’s head up the coast. We’ve got the weekend off, and there’s this neat little inn just east of the interstate once you cross over into Vermont. The food’s great, and it caters to my kind of people.”
“Your kind of people, O’Neill?”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack caught sight of Jethro leaving the courthouse. Fighting back the ache in his chest, he straightened and turned his back on the man he could have loved forever. “Yeah, my kind of people. Truthful, honest and gay.”
End of chapter 3
Author's Chapter Notes:
Time for a decision to be made.