Work Text:
Tony was able to do a lot of things in the dark. Sleep. Have sex. Jerk off. Answer the telephone. Shut off a ringing alarm.
But even in his apartment, taking a piss in the dark hadn't been on his list of accomplishments. Tony needed to turn the light on to make sure his aim was straight and true, and even then he still heard his mother's alcohol-soaked voice "It never fails to amaze me, Anthony, how someone can shoot a ball into a basket fifteen feet over their head and yet miss peeing in a bowl less than two feet from their penis."
Dear old mom. Yup, you had to love the words of wisdom she imparted to her darling son.
So he'd been sort of shocked when he was enveloped in blackness in the men's room. There had been no forewarning. No blinking. No flickering. Just on. Then off. Being in the darkness with his dick in his hand and Gibbs just a few feet away would usually be time for celebration.
"Don't get any brilliant ideas, DiNozzo."
"Wouldn't even think of it."
"Put it away."
Tony mumbled something under his breath while shaking and zippering.
"Just for the record, Tony, I'm neither a killjoy nor a party pooper."
"Jeeze, how the hell do you do that?"
"Do what?" Gibbs' whispered words were hot against his neck.
Tony squirmed, raising his shoulders to brush away the sensation.
"Too close for comfort?"
"Never," Tony denied adamantly, "but we're at work. In the john."
"Now who's the party pooper?"
"Me?" He spun around and clutched his heart, though the effect was probably swallowed up by the darkness. "You're talking about me?"
"I don't know, Tony, do you see anyone else I could be talking about?"
He looked right, left and received a smack on the back of his head for his efforts. "Guess we're alone here, huh, Boss?"
"Exactly the point I'm trying to make."
"Well, I really can't see, so I'm taking your word for it."
"Words are always good, DiNozzo."
"I know that."
"Though there are times actions speak louder than words."
Tony braced himself, expectantly waiting for another head slap.
"Are you waiting for something, DiNozzo?"
"Ummmm," he stuttered. "No?" He winced. Damn Gibbs for being so close, in a place where he shouldn't be close. Tony needed to go home and check his list because he was pretty damn positive rule number twenty-five was no touching or groping in the workplace, but he was drawing a blank on a rule regarding proximity. And right now, proximity was more damaging than touching or groping. "I think," he cleared his throat, "I need to wash my hands."
"Good point." Two words and then Gibbs was gone.
Tony waved his hands out in front of him just to make sure. "Boss?"
There was an enticing splashing of water.
"I'm right here by the sink," Gibbs said, his voice filled with patient exasperation. The sort of tone a parent would use when placating a child over monsters under the bed or boogey men in the closet.
Sink. Tony was familiar with the bank of sinks. He'd washed his hands in those sinks. Shaved. Brushed his teeth. Admired himself in the mirrors hanging over the porcelain. Mentally, he pictured the layout of the bathroom and where in relation to the urinals the sinks should be.
"Do you need me to take your hand and walk you over here?"
"No, no, Boss, I got it."
"Tony, watch out for the—"
"I got it," he replied indignantly. He did have it. And he would've made it over to the sink except for some stupid reason he'd forgotten the janitor's yellow 'wet floor' warning sign blocking his path.
Tony fought a courageous battle with the sign but he lost the war in a jumble of ungainly arm and leg movements before landing with a painful, definitely unmanly squeal and echoing thud on the wet, tiled, very hard floor. "Ow."
"Don't move."
"I wasn't planning to." Tony shifted, groaned, opened his eyes then slammed them shut. "Am I dead or are we still in black out mode?"
"Do I look like an angel?" Gibbs voice was gruff but the hands and fingers that worked their way over Tony's body were anything but.
"You're missing your halo," Tony said through gritted teeth when those gentle fingers found a sore spot.
"It's in the wash." Gibbs bent down, low enough that his lips skimmed Tony's.
"Rule twenty five," Tony whispered.
"My rules. I'm allowed to break them when the situation warrants."
"Like now? Kissing away the boo boo's?"
"Don't be an ass, DiNozzo."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
"Yeah, you would, hence the reason you're here. On the floor of the bathroom lying in the dirty soapy water the janitor used to clean the floor."
Tony struggled to sit up. "Ewww. That's disgusting."
"Damn it, you stubborn SOB, let me help you."
Tony did most of the work, but he let Gibbs slip an arm around his shoulders lending support. He raised a hand to the back of his head, tenderly poking the goose egg that now rested there. "I'm okay."
"Sure, tell me another one."
"My ass is wet."
"Soapy, dirty water," Gibbs removed Tony's hand from the back of his head and held it a second too long before guiding it back to his lap," which by the way you wouldn't be sitting in if you'd listened to me."
Tony huffed. "I listened."
It was Gibbs' turn to huff.
"Okay, I listened," Tony acquiesced, "I just didn't hear you."
A blinding flash sent shards of pain through Tony's head as brilliant, thousands of watts of fluorescent bulbs illuminated the bathroom. "Shit." He tensed as his stomach rolled and for a second Tony thought he was going to lose his breakfast morning drive thru sandwich from McDonalds.
"If you puke on me, DiNozzo, you'll be sleeping on the sofa," Gibbs growled.
"You're threatening an injured member of your team?" Tony closed his eyes against the agony of the lights and forced himself to think pleasant thoughts, none of which had him sleeping on the lumpy sofa in Gibbs' living room.
"Yup, that's exactly what I'm doing," Gibbs paused and stroked Tony's head, his fingers once again finding the tender spot that marked Tony's stupidity, "and it seems to be working."
"Boss!"
"Gibbs."
"Tony."
"Ohmigod, guys are you alright?"
Tony opened one eye. With matching expressions of dumbfounded confusion and a side order of relief, McGee and Ziva were standing in the entrance of the bathroom, the swinging door pinned in place with Ziva's shoulder. Abby, bless her spiked dog collar, rushed around them and Tony held his breath waiting for her impact.
"Don't," Gibbs yelled, throwing his hand out and effectively stopping her in her tracks.
"But, Tony," she whined.
"Probably could use a once over by Ducky."
"Yes, sir." Understanding the unspoken request, with three sharp nods and a salute she was gone, McGee and Ziva separating like the Red Sea to let her through.
Tony might have the headache from hell but he could see McGee trying to put together exactly what the hell had happened here in the men's room that ended up with him sitting on the floor practically in Gibb's arms. "There was a blackout," McGee's voice trailed off into oblivion as he blinked at the two men.
"No shit, McSherlock," Tony groaned as he struggled to sit up straighter, giving up with a snort. "We've got it under control, Probie."
"This is control?" Ziva didn't even try to cover up her smirk.
"Yes, this is control. DiNozzo knows what he's talking about."
Ziva opened her mouth again, but was silenced by Gibb's glare. "I think we should be going." She grabbed McGee's arm and attempted to pull him out of the bathroom, but he shrugged her off, walked into the bathroom, picked up the fallen yellow warning sign and righted it.
"Wouldn't want anyone else to fall, would we?" He patted the top and made sure the sign was sturdy.
"Out!" Gibbs ordered.
Tony scrunched his face up in pain as the one word bounced around his brain.
McGee scurried out the door with Ziva right on his heels. The door swung shut behind them but not before Tony caught the expressions on their faces. Yeah, he wasn't going to be getting flowers or a get well card from either of them anytime in the near future.
"Thank you." He was more than grateful that Gibbs had banished Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum from the scene of the crime.
"Didn't think you wanted an audience."
"People are going to talk about us."
Gibbs bent down and whispered in Tony's ear. "I'm going to let you in on a little secret, DiNozzo, people already talk about us."
"Really?" Tony jerked upright and his already tender head made contact with Gibb's chin. "Ow. Crap."
Gibbs growled good naturedly then rubbed the newest injury. "And yes, people talk."
"We're water cooler conversation?"
Gibbs shrugged and Tony's body rode up and down with the movement." God, his head really hurt and though being alone with Gibbs was damn nice, he really was hoping Ducky was going to be making an appearance really soon. "No couch tonight?"
"DiNozzo, you're going to be lucky if your wet ass doesn't end up in the hospital. And do not," Gibbs said after a beat, "say that you're fine."
"Wouldn’t dare." Tony pushed away from Gibbs. Keeping his head down and his eyes closed helped with keeping the floor from undulating. "What are you going to say when Ducky comes in about…" with his eyes opened to mere slits, he studied the multiple Gibbses, "what happened."
"The truth."
"Is the word klutz going to come up in the conversation?"
Gibbs' huff was soft. "No, I'm just going to say slippery when wet. It's the truth, isn't it?"
The end