Introductions 6
by
Angelise
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"For cryin’ out loud, Gibbs, stand up. And put your damn clothes back on. I’m sure as hell not gonna let you blow me in full view of my neighbors. The old geezer next door would die of a heart attack if he caught us going at each other."
Jack stepped around the man kneeling at his feet, making sure that his uninvited guest did not see his face. It would certainly not do for Jethro to know just how close he came to having his mouth fucked by the Mighty O’Neill. It would also not do for Jethro to learn how much he wanted him, wanted him more than the air he breathed, maybe even more than Daniel. But more importantly, Jack didn’t want Jethro to know how much he resented him for the pain that had been inflicted upon his heart at their last meeting six months ago.
Jack had laid his heart on the line only twice before in his life. Once with Sarah and once with Daniel. His son’s death had destroyed the love he had shared with his wife, and interfering aliens had cheated him of the love he could have had with Daniel. His feelings for Jethro Gibbs had snuck up on him, and instead of listening to his brain, he had listened to his heart and offered to share his life with the NCIS agent. Jethro’s refusal of not only Jack’s offer but also of his own homosexuality had put a swift end to their relationship.
Nearly a half a year had passed, and Jack really thought he had a handle on his feelings for the handsome ex-Marine. To have Jethro come waltzing back into his life as if nothing had happened was a bit too much for him to deal with. And even though he’d sell his soul to the devil to be balls deep in Jethro’s ass, he just couldn’t flip his heart back on just because Jethro decided it was okay to be gay and in love with a man.
"You got a place to stay?" Jack glanced over his shoulder and almost cracked a smile. His refusal of Jethro’s advances had certainly snatched the wind out of the man’s sail. ‘Serves you right, you bastard,’ he thought.
Collecting the empty beer bottles, Jack headed toward the kitchen, not bothering to see if his guest was following or not. "Hope you’re not staying at that place down the road. It’s got roaches the size of missile launchers."
"Are you kicking me out, Jack?"
Both beer bottles were thrown into the recycle bin with a little more force than usual. "You have to be invited in to be kicked out."
"I thought when you said---" Gibbs gripped Jack by his arm, and that was all it took.
Jack spun around, knocking Jethro’s hand loose in the process. Facing the half-dressed man, he growled, "You thought what? Hell, did you even think at all?" He clenched his hands tight and fought back the urge that demanded he either lash out with a fist or haul Jethro into his arms so that he could kiss the shit out of him.
"Did you really think it was going to be that easy, Gibbs? That you could just waltz in here, declare your love and have me fall down at your feet? That I’d be so damn grateful that you had finally decided you were gay and ready to be fucked?" Jack slapped away the hand reaching for him. "Think again, smartass."
Pushing Jethro to the side, he headed for the fridge. Maybe another beer or twelve would help him forget how much he wanted and loved the man standing behind him.
Before he could reach his destination, warm flesh plastered itself to his back and strong hands slid over his hips and down between his legs. Jack choked off the groan that threatened to reveal the hunger simmering just below his anger.
"Feels like a token protest to me," Gibbs whispered hotly in his ear.
Hands cupped the O’Neill family jewels, and Jack nearly bit through his bottom lip in order to remain silent. His desire for Jethro demanded he welcome the fingers playing with his zipper, but the words so arrogantly spoken next strengthened his refusal to yield.
"Seems the evidence is telling a different story, Jack. And according to that guy on TV, ‘the evidence never lies.’"
Jack looked down and shuddered when he saw that Jethro had discovered the threadbare spot in the crotch of his shorts. The man was seconds away from learning exactly how correct he was.
"Remove ‘em or lose ‘em," Jack hoarsely demanded. "Contrary to belief, I do not think with my dick."
"You son of a bitch."
Ignoring the curses being heaped upon his head, Jack turned and walked back into the living room, being extremely careful not to trip over the major boner that was leading the way. He collected his keys and wallet and waited for Jethro to join him. It was a full minute before the NCIS agent exited the kitchen, and the angry glare that slapped Jack in the face only made him smile triumphantly. Score one for the O’Neill team.
Jack held his keys up in the air and offered, "I’ve got to make a run to the store. Want me to drop you off at your hotel?"
"You know damn well I was planning on staying with you," Gibbs answered through gritted teeth.
Jack committed the unforgivable sin and looked into Jethro’s eyes. He saw anger, plenty of anger, but beneath that there was pain and confusion, and something that tugged on his heart. He knew from experience how hard it must have been for Jethro to lay bare his soul, but in no way was he ready to let his uninvited guest off the hook. There was nothing at all about the situation that would excuse Jethro’s arrogant behavior nor justify his assumption that Jack would simply fall into his arms the second a declaration of love was made. Only time would reveal the truth of Jethro’s declarations.
The spark of an idea took shape, and Jack grinned wolfishly at Jethro. "Guest bedroom is down the hall. Store your gear in there and then meet me outside. If you’re staying the weekend, I’ll need to stock up on some stuff."
"Will condoms and lube be on that list?"
Jack tore his gaze away from the arched eyebrow taunting him. "Don’t push your luck, Gibbs. The verdict’s still out in regards to this new lease on life you seemed to have acquired."
This time the groan that welcomed the mouth devouring his was allowed its freedom. Jack did, however, force his brain to rescind the order that would have had his hands gluing themselves to Jethro’s ass.
"Jesus Christ!" Jerking free of the fingers gripping his arms, Jack somehow found the strength to remove himself from temptation. That resolve nearly bit the dust when he saw the cheeky grin on Jethro’s face.
"You can label that kiss as exhibit A," the man suggested.
A sizeable erection brushed against his hip seconds before Jethro headed toward the door. Jack wiped at the sweat collecting on his upper lip. "Guess you want that submitted as exhibit B?" he mumbled under his breath.
Gibbs turned around and offered Jack a smile filled with confidence. "If it’ll help my case, you can definitely present it to the jury."
Jack squeezed his eyes shut on the image that instantly sprang to mind. He was still fucking mad at Jethro. M. A. D. Mad.
Then why in the hell was his dick so damn happy?
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"I’m not exactly into fish, O’Neill."
"Well, I am." Jack examined the selection of fresh vegetables displayed before him. "Besides, fish is considered brain food, and you need all the help you can get."
"Your wit simply astounds me."
Jack refused to rise to the bait. Instead he added zucchini, yellow squash and mushrooms to the carton of cherry tomatoes already in his cart. Grilled redfish and vegetables were on the night’s menu, and if Jethro had a problem with that, he could take a hike to the nearest McDonald’s.
Tossing a plastic bag at his weekend visitor, Jack instructed, "We’ll need some onions. Go grab a few." The snort of disgust directed at him was summarily dismissed.
Jack was digging through a bin of broccoli and had just found a large spear that was loaded with florets when he heard the husky rumble of Jethro’s laughter. He instinctively turned to see what was so funny about onions.
Right away it was evident that Jethro had accomplished the task assigned to him. A sack of onions dangled from his left hand. Unfortunately for Jack, a tall, willowy redhead dangled from Jethro’s other hand, and for a moment the heartache returned full force.
Jethro had just promised he was finished with women and was more than ready and willing to embrace his sexuality. From where Jack stood it looked as if Jethro was ready to embrace something, and that something had long shapely legs and boobs that could float a destroyer.
Shoving his cart to the side, Jack was halfway out of the store when his brain reminded him of the idea it had presented earlier. He stopped dead in his tracks and reversed directions. It was time to put ‘Gibbs Goes Gay’ Operation into action.
Jack returned to the fresh produce section and reclaimed his chosen spear of broccoli. He then navigated his way around the numerous shoppers that stood between him and Jethro. Parking his cart next to the display of onions, he stepped up to Jethro and, without missing a beat, pressed his lips to the man’s stubble-roughened cheek. Blue eyes went wide with astonishment and grew even wider when Jack plucked free the appropriated sack of onions and replaced them with his hand.
"And who do we have here, Sweetcheeks?" Jack asked, throwing a casual glance at the woman standing opposite him. He wanted to warn the startled redhead about the danger of swallowing flies but thought it best to remain quiet. Besides, he was too busy watching Jethro.
Jack had to give the man credit. It took Jethro all of 10 seconds to realize his claim to gayness was being tested. The hand tugging ceased instantly but was followed by a narrowing of eyes that were lit with the light of challenge.
‘Bring it on, Marine,’ Jack thought smugly. ‘I can take anything you dish out.’
Releasing the hand he was holding, Jack slid his arm around Jethro’s narrow waist and hugged him to his side. "Please tell me you weren’t swapping recipes again."
He turned his gaze to the woman and smiled. "My man just loves to cook, and it’s all I can do to keep him from turning into Mr. Tubby." Jack rubbed Jethro’s flat abdomen and hid his grin when the sack of onions he was holding bounced repeatedly against a vulnerable crotch.
Neither of them noticed the woman’s hasty retreat. Jack was too busy enjoying Jethro’s discomfort, and Gibbs, no doubt, was too busy thinking of ways to kill him.
The staring contest finally came to an end when Gibbs gave Jack a dose of his own medicine. In full view of Ma and Pa Gray-Hair, Gibbs leaned his full weight against Jack and licked the lobe of his ear. "Want you to fuck me, Jack," he purred seductively.
The unexpected maneuver and lewd request didn’t faze Jack at all. ‘You’ll have to do better than that, Gibbs,’ he silently challenged his companion.
Tossing the sack of onions into the cart and not caring that their weight crushed his near-perfect spear of broccoli, Jack, with an absolute straight face, grabbed Jethro by his hips and laid a kiss on him that had both Jethro and their senior citizen spectators gasping for breath.
"Remember who you’re dealing with, Tough Guy," he told a breathless Jethro. "I’ve been out of the closet a whole lot longer than you. I know how to play this game."
"O’Neill, you’re a first class S.O.B." Gibbs slipped a knee between Jack’s legs and nudged his groin. "Good thing I like bastards," he said with a smirk that set off all sorts of warning bells in Jack’s head.
Jack did his own gasping when one of his hands was taken hostage and not released until he had finished every bit of his shopping. They were standing in line waiting to check out when Jethro finally let go of him, and that was only because their intertwined hands would not fit in the pocket where Jack kept his wallet.
Wrestling his wallet free, Jack was secretly surprised and aroused beyond measure when a quintet of naughty fingers deliberately took up residence inside the rear pocket of his shorts. He was actually considering the notion of leaving them there for the duration but changed his mind when he discovered Ma and Pa Gray-Hair standing one lane over. Their glare of undisguised displeasure evoked a childish response, and Jack almost stuck his tongue out at the elderly couple. Fortunately the disobedient muscle was captured by teeth that knew how to behave.
Offering an apologetic smile, Jack pried Jethro’s fingers away from his ass and physically placed them on the handle of their grocery cart. They stubbornly refused to remain at their designated station, and Jack nearly dropped the case of beer he was holding when certain territory beneath the waistband of his shorts was investigated.
"Cut it out, Gibbs," Jack instructed huskily. The small of his back was one of the most sensitive places on his body, and Jethro was driving him wild with the way he was scraping the dimpled area with his nails.
"Make up your mind," Gibbs griped. "Do you want me in or out of the closet?"
Jack resisted the overwhelming urge to punch the mouth that was cheekily grinning at him. When the owner of the grin realized his dilemma and had the audacity to allow the grin to grow in size and sarcasm, Jack threw all caution to the wind.
Moving so that he stood directly in front of Jethro, he pinned the man with his gaze while discreetly pinning his crotch with a hand that was not in the mood to be nice. "Keep it up, Gibbs, and I’ll really give you something to grin about."
There was a subtle thrusting of hips, followed by the quirk of an eyebrow, both of which had Jack counting to ten while taking several slow, deep breaths. Neither one helped calm his temper, nor his libido, and when the words ‘Payback’s a bitch’ were whispered in his ear, Jack knew his plan to teach Jethro a lesson had just backfired on him.
Without saying another word, he paid for his groceries and exited the store. Jack knew Jethro was following close behind but refused to acknowledge him. Once again the man his heart desired had gotten the upper hand, and Jack was none too pleased.
"What the hell was that for?" Jack yelped. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned around and glared daggers at Jethro. His companion, who had helped himself to the complimentary coffee offered by the store, was now gazing at him over the rim of a steaming cup of java.
"That was for calling me Sweetcheeks," Gibbs coolly answered. "My name is Jethro. Not Sweetcheeks, not Tough Guy and not Mr. Tubby. Jethro. Call me Jethro or call me Gibbs. Cutesy nicknames are for romantic fools. I’m not a fool. Are you?"
Jack rolled his eyes and resumed walking toward his truck. "Whatever," he mumbled loud enough for the man now strolling beside him to hear. He was in the process of unlocking the passenger side-door when the back of his head was slapped again. "You got a death wish, Gibbs?" he growled menacingly as he turned to face Jethro.
The hand that had inflicted his pain returned. This time it gently curved around the back of his neck, exerting just enough pressure to pull Jack forward. Lips tasting of coffee met his with an unexpected tenderness and stole his breath when they nudged and nipped at his mouth.
"That was for showing me what I’ve denied myself all these years," Gibbs gruffly whispered. "It felt good holding your hand, Jack. Felt damn good when you stepped up and laid claim to me in front of Miss Chambers, who, by the way, is your newest neighbor. She just bought the house directly behind yours."
Gibbs moved into Jack’s personal space and slid his hands down over his ass. He squeezed both cheeks with a gentleness that spoke more to Jack of affection than it did of raw desire.
"I’m sorry I was such a bastard. Sorry I hurt you," Gibbs apologized.
Jack waited the entire measure of a heartbeat before relaxing into Jethro’s embrace. Maybe it was time to let go of the anger. Maybe. The jury was still weighing all the evidence.
"I’m not very good at relationships, as you well know," Gibbs continued. "And I sure as hell don’t have that much experience when it comes to relationships with men."
Gibbs cupped the side of Jack’s face and rubbed the spot right below Jack’s left ear. "Nathan was my first real male lover. Before him it was just a string of one night stands that were basically about fucking each other’s brains out."
Another kiss was bestowed upon Jack, and the lips carrying it lingered for a long time before moving away.
"Nathan’s death," Gibbs said, his voice burdened with sadness, "not only locked me in the closet but also put my heart on hold. I’ll admit I cared for the women I married, but I didn’t love them. That emotion died with Nathan."
Jack pulled free of Jethro’s arms. "So what are you telling me, Gibbs? Is love not an option with you? ‘Cause if that’s the deal then I’m not buying." Taking a step back, he rested his weight on the steel door behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. "I want love. As silly as that may sound, it’s what I want, what I need."
Bending a leg, Jack rested one foot against the lower part of the door and picked at a loose thread dangling from the hem of his cutoffs. "I said it earlier, and I’ll say it again. A short-term relationship is not what I’m looking for. And if you’re only playing at being gay so that you can get my ass in bed, well, if I was you, I’d seriously rethink that plan."
The sound of a door being slammed shut caught Jack’s attention, and he shook his head in disbelief when he saw who had parked next to him. Ma and Pa Gray-Hair were sitting in their shiny new Mercedes Benz. Both were frowning and no doubt condemning the souls of all fags to the fires of Hell. Jack was too tired to care if the Devil had room for both him and Jethro.
"Look, let’s go grab a bi---" Jack knew his mouth was inches from hitting the ground when Jethro spun around and tapped on Ma Gray-Hair’s window using his cup. A splatter of coffee hit the glass, and the elderly woman inside hesitated at least five seconds before rolling the window down a few inches.
"What do you want?" she asked after collecting a tissue and swiping at the smear of coffee staining her pristine car window.
Gibbs rested his arm on the car’s roof and gave the old woman his best smile. "You see that man over there?" He pointed at Jack.
"Yes, I see him."
Blue eyes that were blinding bright with genuine affection hit Jack hard, and he almost stopped breathing when he heard what Jethro had to say next.
"That’s the man I plan on taking to bed tonight and loving until he can’t remember his name," Gibbs stated loud and clear.
His declaration was in fact so loud that several shoppers near them turned their heads in his direction. Straightening, he walked up to Jack and pulled him into his arms. "What about it, Jack? Want to slide under the covers with a stubborn old Marine who’s finally pulled his head out of his ass?"
Jack found he was still holding his breath and let it out in a whoosh when Jethro playfully bit his chin.
"I care for you, Jack O’Neill, and I don’t doubt those feelings will soon slide into love. Forever love, if that’s okay with you," Gibbs told him and once again, his words were loud enough to be heard by all that were listening.
"You damn well better not be yanking my chain. I swear I’ll . . . ." Jack let his glare do the talking.
Gibbs loosened his hold and moved back a few inches. He trapped Jack with a gaze that allowed no argument. "Right now the only thing I plan on yanking is your damn fine di---"
Jack shut down Jethro’s announcement with a kiss that was greeted with applause by some and curses by others, specifically those parked next door. He grinned when the Mercedes peeled rubber, and his grin doubled in size when the luxury car slammed into the rear of a canary yellow VW that had seen better days.
Voices were soon raised in anger, but Jack ignored them all. He was too busy planning the next phase of his ‘Gibbs Goes Gay’ Operation.
Maybe he could invite a few close friends over, friends who knew the real Jack. It would be interesting to see exactly how his newly professed gay friend would act in front of them. Or better yet---
"Gibbs, you ever gone clubbing?"
End of chapter 6
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jethro is not exactly welcomed with open arms.