Introductions 7
by
Angelise
+++++++
Life was good and getting better by the second.
Jack took a swallow of beer and moaned appreciatively when the cool liquid soothed his parched throat. The air around him was filled with cigarette smoke, smoke so thick it would easily choke the uninitiated. On the other hand, it was dense enough to hide a multitude of sins, and, at that particular moment, he was definitely more interested in sinning than he was worried about the well-being of his lungs.
Tonight was the night, and he was where he was for one reason and one reason only -- confirmation.
Taking another swig of beer, Jack leisurely inspected his surroundings.
‘Tommy’s’ was one of the more seedier clubs in the area, normally filled with what most would term as hardcore gays on the prowl. The converted warehouse was packed wall to wall with men who had only one thing on their minds -- getting laid. It wasn’t his usual haunt, but every now and then when the beast inside him demanded a loud and raucous place to prowl, ‘Tommy’s’ was the place to go.
Jack lifted his beer to his lips again. He also lifted the hand groping his ass, and with a smile that welcomed the attention but declined the offer, returned it to its owner. Tonight his beast was interested in just one man, and that man was a stubborn as hell ex-Marine, who, miracle of miracles, had finally decided to embrace the true nature of his sexuality.
Jack let loose a wolfish smile before taking another swallow. Life was definitely good.
Glancing toward the bar that ran the entire length of one wall, he searched for his missing date. He’d sent Jethro on a beer run nearly ten minutes ago, and the man had yet to return. It took a few seconds for him to locate the familiar face that had been haunting his dreams for the past six months, and when he finally did, he couldn’t help but laugh.
Jethro was surrounded by a group of boys who must have been football jocks if the letter jackets they wore were any indication. They also appeared to be as thick-skulled as they were thick-necked. Jethro’s expression plainly said ‘Back off, Jackass,’ but obviously the one idiot blocking his way was blind as well as dumb.
A parting of the sea of bodies between him and Jethro suddenly gave Jack a clear shot of the hand that was appreciating his man’s sizeable package. The enthusiastic fondle didn’t last long at all, the reason for its swift withdrawal being the two ice cold beers that were dumped down the pants of the fondler.
Jack choked on his beer upon seeing his date’s swift act of retaliation. He then hoarsely thanked the Good Samaritan who pounded him on the back when his laughter got tangled up with his drink and caused him to choke again. Returning his attention to the man walking toward him, Jack decided then and there that the look of annoyance and embarrassment on Jethro’s face was priceless and worth every miserable second that had passed since the handsome NCIS agent turned his back on their relationship.
Jack waved his empty bottle at Jethro and laughed when he was flipped the bird. His reminder of a botched mission had his date turning sharply on his heel and heading back to the bar. Jethro’s reputation preceded him, and the group of jocks that had openly admired his wares earlier hurriedly scrambled out of his path. Jack grimaced in sympathy for the innocent bystanders that got mowed down by the frightened athletes.
"Come on, boys, I assure you Gibbs’ bark is worse than his bite." He rubbed the passion mark on the side of his neck that was given to him seconds after arriving at the club. "But then again . . . ."
Heat blossomed in his groin. Closing his eyes, Jack took a moment to savor the feeling. "Soon," he promised his unrelenting erection. "Soon."
Looking across the crowded room, he spied the one who would fulfill the whispered promise, and laughter bubbled to the surface. Once again on the return trip Jethro was blatantly propositioned, this time by a biker whose face had seen more mileage than the machine he, no doubt, had ridden in on. Luckily for the man whose denim vest proclaimed him a member of the ‘Cheyenne Chieftains,’ his eyes and brain were in perfect working order. He took one look at Jethro’s face and removed not only his hand but his entire body out of harm’s way. The swift and unexpected retreat was obviously not the norm for the burly biker and had his cohorts shaking their heads in amusement as they followed in his wake.
"What kind of fucking club did you bring me to?" Gibbs asked once he drew even with his host. "Damn fool unzipped my jeans." He indicated the bottles he was carrying. "Good thing he took a hike. Hate to have added to those scars on his face."
Since both of Jethro’s hands were occupied, Jack did the honors of restoring his date’s modesty by zipping up the pair of well-worn, form-fitting jeans he had insisted Gibbs wear to the club. Of course it went without saying that by the time he finished his act of goodwill Jethro was sporting an even larger boner. "Fucking’s the main event at this place. Deal with it," Jack directed with a smirk.
One very large steel rod rubbed against his own, and Jack did nothing to strangle the moan that fully appreciated the maneuver.
"Oh, I’ll deal with it, Jack. In ways you can’t even imagine."
Gibbs sealed his threat with a move that had Jack straddling the knee nudging his groin. The smaller of his two brains demanded he hump the muscular appendage until he came in his pants. Instead he reached for the bottle of beer slapping against his belly.
"’Bout time you got back with the goods," Jack choked out. "A man could die of thirst waiting for you to wade through your fan club."
‘Asshole’ was thrown his way along with another one finger salute. Unable to contain his beast one second longer, Jack claimed the disagreeable frown surveying the hoards of the sweaty, lust-crazed men pressing against them. He held the insatiable mouth hostage until breathing became an absolute necessity. Sucking in air, he did some of his own groping and was treated to a feral grin that given the right surroundings, such as a California-sized mattress in a room dark and void of curious eyes, would have led to the nailing of a specific ass to the nearest horizontal surface.
"Jack."
"Jethro."
"O’Neill."
Teal’c’s low-pitched voice rudely interrupted Jack’s fantasy.
"I count only two bottles of liquid sustenance," the Jaffa announced. "Am I correct in assuming the remaining bottle belongs to me?"
"Huh?" Tearing his gaze away from the swollen lips that had his libido working overtime, Jack redirected his attention to the scowling warrior standing to his left.
It had come as quite the surprise when Teal’c accepted his invitation to get down and dirty. The reticent Jaffa had even gone as far as to dress the part, wearing not only a patriotic bandana on his bald head but also a pair of tight black jeans and an even tighter white cotton t-shirt. The combination of white on black, along with Teal’c’s bulging muscles, had men lining up in droves to make his acquaintance. Unfortunately Teal’c wasn’t paying the least bit of attention to his admirers. As he had informed Jack before entering the club, his main objective of the night was that of avoiding one very determined Jonas Quinn.
Jack caught sight of the bearded giant standing directly behind his friend. From the way the chain and leather enthusiast was eyeing Teal’c’s ass, Jonas was the least of the Jaffa’s problems.
Forcing his brain to ignore the image of Teal’c naked and tied to a rack, Jack turned to Jethro. "You forgot Teal’c’s beer," he cheerfully chastised his date.
Gibbs stopped mid-swallow. "I am not fighting my way back through that crowd. There’s only so much butt pinching one man can take, and I’m way beyond my limit. Hell, my ass’ll probably be black and blue by morning." He surrendered his beer to Teal’c. "Here, you can have the rest of mine."
Teal’c accepted the proffered bottle with a single nod of his head. "You are a generous man, Jethro Gibbs. First you absolve me of all blame for helping O’Neill apprehend you on the day of your bonding. And now you present me with this beer. I thank you."
"Forget it, Teal’c," Gibbs instructed. "And call me Jethro, okay?"
"Tell you what," Jack offered magnanimously, handing his fresh beer to Jethro. "My bladder’s on overload. You take my beer, and I’ll grab another one for myself on the way back from the restroom."
"Better your ass than mine running that gauntlet," Gibbs mumbled. "In fact, as far as I’m con--- Shit!"
Jethro’s eyes went wide all of a sudden, and Jack couldn’t contain the size of his grin. Peeling his fingers away from the growing redwood south of Gibbs’ belt, he leaned forward to whisper hotly, "Quit your yappin’ about your ass. It’ll see some action. Plenty of action." Jack patted the object of discussion. "Hope you took your vitamins this morning, Gibbs. It’s gonna be an all-nighter for the Mighty O’Neill."
With that promise left hanging in the air, Jack turned to go. The last thing he saw before the crowds obstructed his view was that of Teal’c assisting a beer-snorting Jethro to a nearby stool. He laughed. God, how he loved shocking the ex-Marine.
Jack made it to the restroom with his rear-end intact, a little bruised albeit, but that was par for the course at ‘Tommy’s’ as his date had discovered. The entire time he was inside taking care of his business he felt he was under surveillance. Finally while washing his hands he caught sight of the individual cataloging his best feature. Using the cracked mirror that hung above the sink, Jack took his time checking out his newest admirer.
The man was tall in his late twenties, maybe early thirties, with sandy brown hair that was desperately in need of a trim. The eyes . . . Jack squinted . . . there was not enough light for him to discover their color, which wasn’t exactly a problem considering his focus had shifted to a pair of lips that were begging to be fucked.
Jack momentarily closed his eyes in self-preservation. If he hadn’t already offered his heart to Jethro, he’d been more than happy to answer the blatant call to action.
It took him another thirty seconds to complete his appraisal and what he discovered below the set of broad shoulders was just as nice as the pretty face above them. For a fleeting moment he entertained a fantasy featuring both Gibbs and this stranger and groaned when his body took note of his x-rated imagination.
"I can help you with that, if you want."
Jack stared in amazement at the fingers lightly dancing along the curve of his hip. He immediately snapped his head up and locked gazes with the younger participant of his most recent fantasy.
"Name’s Tony. Me and my partner are here from Baltimore to attend some boring as hell conference on the subject of," the stranger lowered his voice and mimicked the speech pattern of a well-known program announcer, "‘Forensics in the New Millennium and the Impact It Will Have on Your Profession’ . . . or some shit like that."
The fingers caressing his hip waved nonchalantly through the air. As soon as they were finished punctuating the last sentence spoken, they returned to their former resting place, but this time were far too close for Jack’s peace of mind.
"Tony from Baltimore, it’s been a pleasure making your acquaintance, but this bad boy’s taken."
Jack made nice with a smile before quickly exiting the restroom. He wasn’t surprised at all to discover the stranger following him even after he’d collected his beer. Ready to fire off some witty remark that would get the eager pup off his tail, he turned abruptly. His unexpected move unfortunately had unexpected consequences, and before he could open his mouth, a hand was working his crotch while an insatiable mouth devoured his lips.
The groping lacked finesse but not the kiss. The kiss was near perfection, an eight on the scale of one to ten with Gibbs’ greedy pucker rating a twenty.
"Damn." Jack wiped his mouth dry and couldn’t help but wonder who in the world had taught this youngster the art of sucking face.
"Move it or lose it, Junior."
Jethro’s voice came out of nowhere, and even though it was pitched loud enough to be heard over the crowd, it sounded low, dangerous and demanded immediate obedience.
Tony was nobody’s fool.
He promptly removed his hand and his lips. Throwing both arms in the air, the stranger wisely took a step back. "Whatever you say, Hoss," Tony answered with a grin that warned of further disobedience.
Jethro’s scowl turned deadly, and Jack strategically planted himself between his soon-to-be lover and his wanna-be lover. "Come on, boys and," he looked over his shoulder at the approaching Jaffa warrior, "and uh, boys. Let’s play nice."
Jethro was given a thorough once over, and the grin on Tony’s face doubled in size. Curious as to what exactly the man found so funny, Jack followed his gaze. He chuckled when he discovered the possessive hand guarding his coveted manhood. Both his heads quickly swelled from all the attention.
"As I told him earlier," Tony spoke to Gibbs but nodded in Jack’s direction, "I’d be more than willing to help with that King Kong boner he’s got. In fact, I’m pretty good with both these babies." The man held out his hands. "If you want I could get you two off at the same time. Maybe make it a contest? See who’s the quickest on the draw?" Tony nervously glanced over his shoulder at Teal’c and noticeably gulped when he saw how big their friend was. "Is he with you?" Not waiting for an answer, he rushed forth with another outlandish offer. "Uh, well then, how ‘bout a foursome? He could do me while I do you two?"
Jack laughed aloud. His amusement immediately drew Tony’s attention back to him and unfortunately to his now unguarded manhood. The man licked his lips and took a step closer. His fingers were mere inches from touching him when Jack swore he heard Jethro growl like a wolf about to jump a defenseless yearling.
Tony heard it, too. His eyes went wide with disbelief, and in his haste to escape the wrath of Gibbs, he stumbled straight into Teal’c’s arms.
It was lust at first sight, at least on Teal’c’s part.
"O’Neill, does this human belong to you?"
Teal’c gripped Tony by the scruff of his neck and pulled him close. "His appearance pleases me, and . . ." the Jaffa looked his captive up and down, back and front, "I believe he possesses the stamina and strength necessary to handle my impressive weapon."
Ignoring the look of lust mixed with fear and hope on Tony’s face, Jack raised one eyebrow. "Impressive?" he inquired of his friend.
Teal’c answered with his usual arrogant nod of the head. "So I have been told."
Jack made a mental note to weasel free the identity of whoever was filling Teal’c’s head with delusions of grandeur. "Uh, back to the subject at hand."
Applied pressure below his belt quickly reminded him of the hand that was once again protecting his subject. "To answer your question, Teal’c, no. That human in no way belongs to me. Of course, if certain parties were interested, we could take the boy up on his offer and play out a favorite fantasy of mi---"
Jack suddenly saw stars. He plucked at the jealous hand squeezing his dick and sighed with relief when it relaxed its painfully constrictive hold. Stomping his feet several times, Jack shook the Mighty O’Neill into a more comfortable position and slapped at the hand trying to reclaim him. "Nope, nope. The man’s all yours."
Teal’c ignored Jack’s antics and turned to the remaining member of their group. "Jethro Gibbs, do you wish to claim this human?"
Shifting his gaze from his bruised jewels to Jethro’s face, Jack frowned. He wasn’t the least bit happy with the way his man was visually detailing every delectable inch of ‘Tony from Baltimore.’ The beast within him rose up with a fury. It was one thing for him to entertain lascivious thoughts about the newcomer. Jethro on the other hand should only be having thoughts about the one, the only, Jack O’Neill.
He twisted around and took hold of Jethro by his shoulders. "Gibbs," he warned with what he hoped was a withering glare.
Jethro gave him the half-smile that promised both heaven and hell. "He’s nice-looking," Gibbs said aside to Teal’c, "but I’ve got my hands full with this one." Jethro gripped Jack by his hips and yanked him toward the dance floor. "Maybe next time," he offered the stunned stranger who was also being hauled unceremoniously in the same direction.
"Next time, my ass," Jack mumbled into the cotton-covered shoulder his face was blissfully flattened against.
"If you insist."
Jack found himself twirled around so that his back was plastered to Jethro’s chest and his ass seated nicely against a crotch that was clearly declaring its intentions. He opened his mouth to protest the unexpected turn of events but snapped it shut when voracious lips and hands attacked his person. Tilting his head so that it rested on Jethro’s shoulder, he dismissed the thought that he should take top dog position and bared his throat to the teeth that were intent on marking him again.
"Yeah," Jack hummed. "Perfect."
Exquisite heat took possession of an ear lobe, and he shuddered in response.
"Are you purring, Jack?"
"And if I am?"
Laughter rich with the promise of impending depravity greeted his query.
"No problem," Gibbs replied. "Just checking."
Minutes passed while Jack savored being held. Soon the urge to do some tasting of his own hit, and he moved so that he was facing his partner. Setting his mouth in motion, he started with the skin below Jethro’s left ear before moving lower so that he could test the solidity of a collarbone with his teeth. A grunt of pleasure not only welcomed his exploration but also reminded him of the reason why he was where he was that night. "Speaking of ass," he murmured in the ear he had just toured with his tongue.
Pulling away Jack took hold of Jethro by the shoulders and turned him around, reversing their original dance position. Spooned together as tightly as possible, Jack put his teeth to work on the enticing nape before him while leisurely unbuttoning Gibbs’ shirt. The most perfect ass ever recruited by Uncle Sam ground against his burgeoning erection, and it took every ounce of his control to keep from coming in his pants.
"Fuck, that feels good," Jack growled. "I’m so hard I could drill your ass right here, right now." He pinched, then twisted a nipple. "Yeah, that’s the ticket. Take you down, shove my dick in deep and ride you hard and fast."
His comments garnered an immediate response. He laughed as the chest he was blindly scoring with his fingernails labored for air.
"Liked that, huh. Liked me talking dirty?" Jack tugged on Jethro’s shirt, pulling it off his shoulders and partially down his arms. He sunk his teeth into the muscle that connected neck to shoulder. "Bet I could make you come with just my words."
"Fuck you." Gibbs lifted his hands as if to pull his shirt back on but hesitated for a second. Jack took advantage of the pause and yanked the shirt further down, giving him more territory to investigate.
His arms hampered, Gibbs groaned, "Jack."
"Yes?" Jack knew Jethro wasn’t actually voicing a protest. Hell, the man’s tits and dick were both saluting the removal of his shirt.
"Damn, I’d give anything to strip you naked. Would you like that, Gibbs?" Jack asked. "Would you like to dance naked in my arms?"
Jethro answered physically instead of verbally. He grabbed Jack’s behind and squeezed it hard.
"Was that a ‘yes,’ Agent Gibbs?"
Jack shuddered when the hands on his ass pulled his buttcheeks apart. The resulting gap exposed his hole to the rough denim material of his jeans. By the time Jethro’s fingers plowed his crack, Jack felt his knees grow weak. Tilting his head back, he attempted to regain a measure of control by gnawing on his bottom lip until the taste of blood filled his mouth.
Gibbs reacted to his show of weakness by attacking his throat, using his teeth to worry the bruise already there.
"Damn hickey’s gonna glow in the dark," Jack groused aloud.
"Excuse me? Are you complaining?" Gibbs asked.
Wondering how in the hell Jethro could string together not one but two coherent questions while his jeans were being unfastened simply amazed Jack. "You must be imagining things. No complaints here."
Gibbs grunted before resuming the task he had set for himself.
Redirecting his attention further south, Jack slipped his hand inside Jethro’s pants and stroked the damp cotton briefs he discovered. He wrapped his hand around the steel shaft that liberally wept pre-come, and immediately his jaw was the next to fall victim to his date’s insatiable mouth.
"Jack, dammit. Please."
"Please what?"
Jack forced his hands away from Jethro’s erection. "Tell me what you want, Gibbs. What you really want." He rested his chin on the nearest broad shoulder and waited for an answer. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jethro licking the sweat off his upper lip, and it was all he could do to keep from spinning the man around and sucking on that tongue until they both passed out from asphyxiation.
"I’m waiting," he reminded his silent dance partner. "Tell me what you want. Show these Neanderthals how hungry the real Jethro Gibbs is for a man’s touch."
"Not here, you bastard," Gibbs forced out. He waved an unsteady hand at the circle of human vultures that appeared mesmerized by their wanton behavior.
Jack captured Jethro’s hand and forced it down so that it rested inside his open crotch. "Yes, here. That’s why we came here." He gripped the hand he was holding and rubbed it against the hardness that was threatening to erupt. "I’ve already warned you that I’m not hiding our relationship. If you want to be with me, you’ll be with me, privately and publicly."
The body leaning against him tensed for what seemed like forever, and Jack was on the verge of declaring defeat when, with a long, drawn-out sigh, Jethro completely relaxed.
"Touch me, Jack," he gruffly demanded. "Touch me, kiss me, fuck me. I want it all, here and now; onlookers be damned."
Something Jethro said triggered a memory for Jack and, with a feral grin, he took Gibbs to the very edge, using his mouth and hands. By the time he forced himself to release the raging hard-on his date sported, Jethro wasn’t the only one ready to shoot his load.
Vehement moans of disappointment from the group of men surrounding them protested his withdrawal. The loudest objection drew his attention, and Jack nearly choked when he saw Teal’c devouring the sassy mouth of their most recent acquaintance. In his endeavor to force Jethro to acknowledge his sexuality, Jack had forgotten his friend. Fortunately Teal’c had found someone to keep him company and from the way Tony from Baltimore was sucking on the tongue ramming its way down his throat, the Jaffa warrior was well taken care of.
"Fly Boy."
Jack ripped his gaze away from the look of absolute bliss on Tony’s face and his brain away from the fantasy that refused to let go of his imagination. "Yeah?" he asked dreamily.
"So close, Jack," Gibbs grumbled. "For God’s sake, don’t stop now." Flipping around the ex-Marine ground his hips hard against Jack’s. "Get me off, you bastard. Finish what you started."
Jack bit the side of Jethro’s neck before whispering hoarsely, "Oh I’ll get you off, Gibbs. Have no fear." He took Jethro by the hand and headed toward the men’s restroom. "Later, Teal’c," he called over his shoulder.
"Where the hell are we going?" Gibbs demanded while trying to walk, pull his shirt on and zip up his pants, all at the same time.
Jack spun around and took possession of Jethro’s mouth. By the time he ended the kiss, he had one finger up Jethro’s butt. "I’ll give you one guess."
Gibbs rocked forward into the hand clutching his rod and back onto the finger probing his hole. "As long as you fuck me, I don’t give a shit."
Jack laughed. "One fucking coming right up."
Minutes later he was balls deep in Jethro’s ass, thrusting for all he was worth. "How’s this for finishing what I started?"
Howling each time his prostate was ruthlessly grazed, Gibbs clung to the sides of the bathroom stall, his legs spread wide, his head thrown back. "Fuck . . . FUCK!"
Demanding hands gripped his hips, forcing Jack to quicken his thrusts. More than willing to comply, he let loose the beast and was soon yelling just as loud as his companion. Reaching for Jethro’s leaking shaft, he jerked hard on it several times and was quickly rewarded with the man’s steamy release.
Jethro stumbled from the force of his orgasm. Jack threw an arm around his waist and kept him from falling to his knees. "Not yet. I’m not . . . shit . . . not finished . . . Jethro!"
The blazing inferno which had taken hold of his brain suddenly seared its way straight down his spine and into his balls, throwing him into a mind-shattering climax. Jack lost all control and wildly slammed his cock into the ass whose spasming muscles were milking the very life out of him. Entire galaxies disintegrated behind his eyelids, and it was several minutes before he could form a sentence that wasn’t pure gibberish.
"That was fan-fucking-tastic."
An uncontrolled shudder was the only answer Jethro could offer. It was enough for Jack, and he gently kissed the lips that blindly searched for his.
Maintaining his hold on the lax body before him, Jack whispered, "This is where it all began, remember, Gibbs? Here, in a stall just like this."
"I . . . I remember," Gibbs replied after a minute. "How the hell could I forget you jerking me off in the bathroom of that fancy restaurant? It’s wonder the management didn’t kick our asses to the street."
"Ah, baby, you say the sweetest things." As carefully as possible, Jack pulled out and efficiently discarded the used condom. A grunt of pain greeted his retreat and, after collecting a handful of toilet paper, he checked to see if Jethro was bleeding. There was a trace of blood but not enough to worry about.
After returning their clothes to right, Jack pried Jethro’s fingers loose and turned the man around to face him. He was pleasantly surprised when his arms were filled with a pliant body that was more than happy to have him support its full weight.
"Should’ve listened to Ducky." Gibbs reluctantly admitted after several minutes spent exhaustedly nuzzling and kissing his lover’s mouth. Pulling away, he looked Jack straight in the eye. "Should have listened to you."
"Damn right," Jack agreed with a grim smile. "Would’ve saved us both a lot of pain and heartache."
"I’m a hardnosed stubborn bastard. What can I say?" Taking hold of Jack’s hand, Gibbs unlocked the stall door and walked out. Their reappearance was applauded by both Teal’c and Tony from Baltimore.
‘Gotta find out what the hell his last name is.’ Jack thought. "Can’t call him Tony from Baltimore forever now, can I?’
His musings were interrupted when Jethro pulled him into an embrace that was witnessed by the countless number of men crowding into the restroom. The NCIS agent went one step further and claimed Jack’s mouth in a kiss that left no doubt to which side of the road his heart now traveled upon.
Winking at Teal’c, Jack surrendered to the insistent tongue demanding admittance. He was happy and sated and in possession of the one thing he had been searching for since the moment Jethro had arrived on his doorstep declaring he was a changed man.
Jack had confirmation.
Confirmation from the man who was setting his ear on fire with the whispered plans he had for the remainder of their weekend together.
Jack grinned.
Life was good, so very good, especially if he could convince Jethro to fulfill a certain fantasy of his.
"Hey! Tony from Baltimore! How long did you say you’d be visiting this neck of the woods?"
End of chapter 7
Author's Chapter Notes:
Jack O’Neill was where he was for one reason and one reason only. Surprisingly, he gets a little bit more than he hoped for.
Chapter End Notes:
Folks, I was seriously considering making this the final chapter. Seven’s the perfect number, right? Of course as soon as I typed ‘the end,’ the muse hit me with another idea. Damn this pairing! They’re too much fun to play with. Oh hell, I guess I’ll continue on.