Archive of Our Own

"You going to eat?"

Tony was standing at the top of the basement stairs, He'd come down here, straight down here because He didn't want to talk. Didn't want Tony to have to deal with His frustration. Normally Tony left him to it, wouldn't bother Him, but tonight he had, maybe something was wrong. Tony'd only been outside the hospital a few weeks. A few weeks where He'd been working cases non-stop. A suicide, a murder, a murder made to look like a suicide. Tony didn't need supervision, he was fine on his own but it rankled. Having Tony here wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't supposed to be Him retreating to His basement to work on His boat because the idea of talking to Tony whilst He was like this was a bad idea. Three wives divorced style bad idea.

"Not right now." He paused to look up, watch Tony's hand tighten on the door handle, mouth twist then smooth out into a smile.

"Mind if I come down?"

He couldn't help smiling at that. Four wives and it took a man to figure out how to ask first, argue later.

"Sure."He waved His hand, inviting, turning back to the sanding but listening as Tony clattered down the stairs, unhesitant. If only women had taken Him at His word. The first time he'd given it. Instead of demanding reassurances that He wasn't hiding from them. He guessed it was a good thing all round that Tony wasn't a woman.

"So..."Tony leant back against the work bench. He'd found himself a comfortable space months ago and discovered Gibbs didn't argue or move him out of the way, so it was a safe space to be in no matter what Gibbs was doing to the damn boat. "Work..."

The sentence didn't even make it out of Tony's mouth, His look made it quite clear He didn't want to talk about it.

"Right." Tony's smile a little less bright this time. "So...what is it you're doing now?"

"Same thing I've been doing the last three weeks DiNozzo."

"Still sanding, ha?"

He grunted, didn't even acknowledge the question with an answer. It was close enough to a statement to ignore. Tony had watched Him do this often enough to know exactly what He was doing. Instead He turned back to His sanding and left the conversation in silence.

Tony watched His back, watching the muscles tighten, bunch, stretch. He'd been watching Him for awhile now. Dreams, half formed ideas, an old ache had shifted over the simple act of watching. He could just reach out, he was close enough but Gibbs, He was down here for a reason. Had headed straight down here the moment He'd arrived home from work. Quick stop in His bedroom to change into well worn NIS shirt and jeans. Then He'd stalked down the basement stairs. Stomping clatter a clear indication He didn't want to be disturbed. But Tony had disturbed Him anyway.

They'd done this before. Tony watching. Gibbs sanding, working on the boat. In the beginning Gibbs had figured Tony needed the quiet. Going out, being around people wasn't helping his adjustment to getting out of the hospital. The first time, that coffee shop, hadn't been pretty. Not violent, but not how He wanted to see Tony. Hyper alert, pupils blown, light sweat, flinching at every sudden sight or sound. The single muttered Kate had been enough to ditch the coffee and head straight back to the ward. He didn't know if Tony had been seeing Kate, didn't know if it had anything to do with being out in the open for the first time in over a year, didn't know and didn't care. Tony couldn't handle out in the open so His house, His basement had suddenly become second choice.

It had stupidly taken Him weeks to wonder if the solid walls and lack of windows was an unhealthy reminder of six months of hell.

The doctor sure as hell thought it was. Then again the doctor thought His and Tony's relationship was unhealthy as well. Not the possible homosexual undertone. Gibbs had almost punched him for that. Apparently no, what the doctor worried about was Tony's 'attachment' to Gibbs. Tony's all encompassing willingness to follow Gibbs every whim. Gibbs had almost punched him for that too. He didn't have 'whims' where Tony was concerned. Everything he did, Gibbs really wanted to punch the pretension little shit, he'd do anything for any of his team, it was his damn job. They were his responsibility. And Tony...he'd never crossed that line. Not even for Tony. If Tony crossed it first then that would be different but... he should have punched him. Then the insinuation that he was taking advantage of Tony for his own purpose wouldn't still be pissing him off months later.

He'd have loved to have been there for that conversation. Arrogant shit calmly explaining to Tony that Gibbs wouldn't be coming by to visit him anymore because he thought it was better for Tony to recover without outside influences. Some days Gibbs thought the smartest decision he'd ever made was refusing, other days he wasn't so sure. Tony had always looked up to him, he knew that but now, the doctor was right, there was a certain amount of dependency there. Tony needed him and he got that. Was it healthy? Gibbs didn't know. But it was sure as hell better than sending Tony off across a state line to a half way facility. Making him learn to live out in the open again with a bunch of strangers he didn't know and sure as hell couldn't trust.

"Gibbs?"

Another grunt for a response but Tony couldn't stop now, he'd already shifted a half step closer, hand reaching out. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe he should stop, but every other time Tony had made a similar move Gibbs hadn't stopped him. None of those moves had been anything nearly so blatant but...Gibbs would either tell him to stop or...Tony's hand touched down on Gibbs lower back, just above the hem of the NIS shirt. Gibbs didn't even pause, not for the first second, by the fourth he was slowing. The constant, even flow of his back muscles stuttering to a standstill.

He'd been waiting for this, at least part of Gibbs had been waiting for this for three years now. He'd watched it start at the office, small shoulder bumps, nothing obvious. To begin with he hadn't encouraged Tony. Knew it wasn't a good idea and knew Tony was more than likely just between girlfriends and curious to see how far he could push things before Gibbs had to push back. Push him back into his place. Tony was always doing that. Always pushing. Always testing. Forever a younger man trying out the boundaries of everything, seeing how far he could go before he got slapped back into place. And the thing Gibbs found the strangest was Tony never begrudged him those slaps, being pushed back into place. Always accepted it with a cheeky grin and a quick quip or quote. Seemingly insufferable and somehow untouchable. Everything just ran off him, never stuck, like water off a ducks back.

But this was the one thing, the one issue Tony hadn't backed down on, had refused to be pushed back into place. It hadn't helped that Gibbs didn't really want to push him back into another place but still, he'd slapped, Tony pushed, and somewhere, somehow Tony had turned it into a game. Despite rule twelve. Despite passing girlfriends and dates. Tony had played, had flirted, Tony always flirted. He'd flirted as easily as he breathed.

Had. Had being the operative word. Tony hadn't flirted since the day he'd stepped out of the elevator. Promise firmly given. Smile successfully extracted. Gibbs hadn't seen even a glimmer of flirtation since he'd returned. There'd been subtle signs. Tony sat too close. Tony got edgy, agitated if he didn't get a slap, a pat, his goddamned head stroked. One thoughtless, well a series of thoughtless actions and now Tony was an addict who craved attention. Or maybe he'd always been that addict. Lines were blurred, it was hard to tell.

Unless Gibbs counted that moment in the shower. Which was really hard to tell. Tony had been so out of it, then there'd been that second, a possible flicker of flirtation before he became so serious. Demanding. A Tony he'd refused to believe was gone. Pushy, demanding, in-charge. Capable. Brief moments with an older, younger man who stood up to him, refused to take his shit when he knew Gibbs was wrong.

Tony's hand was warm. Not hot. Didn't burn a hole through his t-shirt. Just a patch of heat that rotated down, pushed up under his shirt. If he was going to stop this he should stop Tony now. Now before this went any further. But Gibbs didn't want to stop him. Didn't want Tony to stop. Wanted to see just how far he would go. How much courage he still had. Gibbs refused to straighten, but slowly relaxed the hand gripping the sandpaper covered wood.

"Boss?" Questioning, even as Gibbs felt his hand slide up his back. A smooth line of warmth, over skin and muscle, fingertips counting bone.

Gibbs risked a glance, blue eyes turning to watch over his shoulder. Tony's face a conflict of curiosity and want. Confusion etched in desire. The hand was sliding back down, large warmth sliding round to stroke his side and Gibbs couldn't stop the shiver. It was automatic, hard wired. Head from hand, skin. Tony's eyes suddenly wide, flash of green pushed out by dark then flinching, hand pulling back.

"Sorry...I..." Licking his lip. "I'm going to make food, hungry?" Aiming for light, half crooked smile.

"I could eat."

"Good." Genuine, broader smile then he was bolting, clattering back up the stairs.

***

Lies, lies, lying eyes. Going to put out your hazel eyes. It wouldn't take long now, Tony could hear the footsteps. Knew he was coming. Just a few more steps and open the door, down the stairs. Voice calling into darkness, flare of light. Footsteps, heartbeat, clattering down. So close, so close now. Just wait, be patient now. So close, so close and NOW!

Grappling, feet bracing, grabbing, wrenching, Tony pulling an elbow in tight under his chin.

"Lies, lies, hazel lies."Grunt as he struggled. "Going to take out your lying eyes."

Sudden stillness in the shadows. No more grappling. No more fighting to get away.

"Tony." Perfectly calm despite a heartbeat pounding against Tony's chest.

Tony smiled. He was scared now, Tony wasn't scared anymore. Tony was going to cut out his lying eyes. Lying tongue. Lying...

"Tony." Softer this time, made Tony pause, made Tony blink.

"Oh..." As Tony noticed silver hair not dark. Knife dropping, metallic clatter on the floor. "It's you!"Smiling big, smiling broad. Pushing Him away to watch Him stagger against a work bench. His eyes tracking Tony, watching Tony's every move. "Kate said you would come but it's been awhile." Still smiling.

He was breathing hard, hand reaching up to His throat, a quick check for blood but Tony hadn't cut Him. Tony wouldn't cut Him. Tony was waiting for Him.

"Are we going now?" Eager, hopeful. "I've been waiting, and Sam's coming back soon."

"You want to leave?" He was asking, eyes sliding to the door.

"I don't like it here." Laughing, grinning wild. "Food's lousy. Don't even ask for room service." Still grinning. "But it's not so bad, better than the last room. That room was..."

Sudden silence. Soft sounds of breathing. Tony breathing faster, His breathing softer. Softer than it had been. Heart rate levelling out. Breathing settling down.

Then finally restarting, voice going low. "There was blood in that room." Leaning forward. "Not all of it was mine." Grinning.

Watching Him, waiting for Him to react.

But His eyes were blue, so blue, like crystals. Brighter than Tony remembered. No hazel, no lies. So blue. Bluer than Kate had told him. But Kate was gone now. She'd been gone for awhile. Tony had sent her away but he remembered. Kate said He would come and He did. Kate had promised.

He didn't look happy to see Tony but He didn't look angry either. There wasn't any secret smile. And Tony had hoped for the secret smile. He missed the secret smile. The one He smiled just for Tony. Instead He looked serious, focussed. Tony knew the focussed look, he'd seen it plenty of times. Plenty of times before Tony had come to the Speaking Rooms.

"What happened in that room Tony?" He asked softly, eyes direct and blue. Not hazel, Tony looked but there wasn't any hazel.

Tony flinched. He didn't want to talk about the Speaking Rooms. He wanted to leave. This Speaking Room wasn't like the others. For one there was a boat, or a skeleton of a boat. But boats didn't die. They were born. No...made. He was making a boat. Boat in His basement. Which made Tony frown, look around.

"It's alright Tony. We don't have to talk about it. We can just leave." Moving towards the stairs. "Come on Tony."

The stairs creaked, groaned. Tony shook his head. There wasn't supposed to be stairs here. There was supposed to be a door. A big heavy door and a metal desk that hurt to sleep on. Except when he lay on his back, feet hanging over the edge, hands crossed over his chest. Like a body in a coffin only sleeping. Not dead.

He'd stopped half way up the stairs. Tony was frowning, watching Him, but reaching back, touching wood. Wood that couldn't be there because Tony couldn't be here. Tony was in his speaking room. Speaking Room with Borrowed Blood but...

"Boss?" Breathing rapid and short now. Eyes swinging wild, pupils getting wide.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, an arm around his waist.

"Upstairs, come on, come upstairs."

Stairs that were bad, shouldn't be there, couldn't be here. No, shaking his head but He was push, pull, shoving Tony. Moving him up the stairs.

"No!" Stopping, feet stuttering. "No. No, no, no, no, no..."

"Tony! Tony look at me."

Hand on his jaw bone, turning his head. Blue eyes, blue eyes staring, catching, capturing.

"Tony!"

Hand in his hair. Hand, wait...

"Oh God." And the world was tilting, crashing Tony to his knees. "Boss?" Desperate.

"Right here." Tony's head pressed into his shoulder, hand clutching painfully at a knee. "I've got you DiNozzo, just breathe."

"Boss where..." Lost inside rapid heartbeats.

"You're home."

"Jesus."Soft cursing and Tony was shaking now.

***

"Should be in hospital."

It was clear in Tony's mind but Gibbs had given him something to make it come out wrong.

"Not going to happen." Hand in Tony's hair.

"Could have hurt you." Tony was protesting. Trying to protest. Eyes closing down.

"Never going to happen DiNozzo."

"Could have."

"Nope."

***

"You didn't tell me they prosecuted my father."

Tony was quiet, watching him glide around the room. Tools were missing, put or locked away again. Tony couldn't tell. Gibbs stopped his sanding, eyes rising over the boat. A long pause before he stepped away and tidied the remaining tools. Sandpaper, hand sized wood blocks, something close to a cork screw. Drawers banging shut. No locks. Then clear silence after sounds.

Gibbs wiped his hands off, making his way across the room, towards the stairs.

Tony was halfway down the stairs, Gibbs striding up.

"How did you find out?" And he was starting to place the pieces, Tony's behaviour yesterday, the freaking out.

"News paper headline." Dead, just empty, looking down. "You should have told me."

"Would it have helped?" Direct.

"Maybe." But Tony wasn't sure. Would knowing they were trying, that they might fail have helped him? Would knowing his father was in custody and unable to touch him have helped? Maybe, just maybe. And maybe it wouldn't have made any difference.

"I could have told you."Gibbs nodded. "I decided not to."

No apologies. Gibbs had decided. No one else. It was his decision. His responsibility and if Tony was going to get angry, then that was his to deal with too.

"That's it?" Tony was frowning. There should have been anger, betrayal, something but instead there was nothing. Hollow. Empty.

And the entire time Gibbs was watching him. Waiting.

"Yeah Tony, that's it."

Silence. Finally Gibbs moved up the stairs to pass him.

"I figured, if you wanted to know, you would have asked."

***

Watching Gibbs from the top of the stairs made his palms itch. Itch enough to bring Tony half way down the stairs into the basement. It'd been awhile. He'd avoiding coming down here after The Incident. It still had capital letters in Tony's mind. How close he'd come to slitting Gibbs throat. How completely unconcerned Gibbs was about the entire thing. Not completely unconcerned. Gibbs kept the tools put away now. Locked up? Tony still didn't know and didn't want to know. Knowing the knives were still out and obvious in the kitchen was enough to keep him away from anything that might mention his father.

He didn't blame Gibbs for not telling him. He should have asked if he really wanted to know. But Tony knew, when he was honest with himself, that he really hadn't wanted to know. He hadn't wanted to know if his father was still out there. That he might try again. There was no chance of that now. His father was locked up. No chance of parole. He'd be gone for a very long time. How long Tony didn't want to know. It was done with, it was over. Case closed.

Gibbs was ignoring him. Tony was sure of that. Just as sure that Gibbs was allowing him to watch without consequence. If Tony wanted to come down the stairs and continue watching, Gibbs would let him. Gibbs was letting him do a lot of things lately. Everything from getting his licence to accidentally walk in as he got changed from work clothes to basement, boat work clothes. Gibbs skin wasn't flawless, there were too many scars. But there was something clean and healthy and Tony's hands itched to touch him anyway.

Gibbs continued to ignore him, even as he settled back against the work bench, coffee in hand.

***

Fingers were trailing through his newly shortened hair. Tony knew it was Gibbs, didn't need to open his eyes to see him sitting on the coffee table staring down at Tony. Knew Gibbs had noticed the fever already, all without a thermometer. Gibbs was good at the investigative thing. It was Gibbs thing. Job. Job not a thing. Groan. That cough stuff had gone straight to his head.

Cracking his eyes open took Tony more effort than he choose to admit.

"Hey." And if Gibbs was keeping his voice down, low and soft, then he probably looked as bad as he felt.

Like crap.

"Boss." The word got stuck in mucus and gravel hoarse throat, raw from all the coughing. Oh yeah. He was great.

"You look like crap DiNozzo." Honest. Blue eyes watching, fingers still stroking over his head. Over heated head. Tony could have sworn he'd kicked off the heavy blanket he dragged downstairs.

"Thanks Boss." Trying for a smile and losing it to a cough. It took more effort than was pretty to pull himself up using the back of the couch, get to sitting so he didn't feel like he was drowning in the mucus and gunk filling his lungs.

"You go see the doctor?" Gibbs asked when the coughing died down.

"No I just passed out on the couch after robbing a drug store for all their cash and cough stuff." Sniping and grumpy. All it got him was a level stare, a twitch from an eyebrow. "Yes, I went to the doctor. It's the flu. You're probably infected." A slight grimace. "Sorry Boss."

All it got him was a shrug, a warm hand on his forehead. Tony wanted to shake it off. It was too hot. He was too hot. Damnit he could have sworn he'd kicked off the blanket. Looking down he realised the blanket was indeed gone, laying forlorn on the floor. Expensive Egyptian cotton in a puddle between the couch and the coffee table, Gibbs bare feet resting on the soft material. Clean, bare, smooth feet.

"Hey!" Hands suddenly on his shoulders, pushing him back because the floor, Gibbs feet were suddenly getting closer. "Tony." Same hands shaking him. "Just how much of that stuff did you take?" Demanding.

He dragged his eyes up. Feet, knees, jean clad knees, sweat shirt elbows, shoulders, neck, smooth jaw. Very smooth. Then blue. Intense, startling blue. Intelligent blue. Shuddering blue. Shuddering. Oh. Oh. He was shuddering. Tony was being shaken.

"Tony!" Sharp. Eyes tracking, watching, worrying.

"Yeah Boss?"

"How much did you take?" Another shake for emphasis.

"Just the thing. The dose thing. That stuff tastes awful." Watching blue eyes frown, feeling a patch of warmth let go, Gibbs hand picking up the bottle from the table, turning it round, reading the label.

Gibbs squinted. He needed his glasses for this but he couldn't let Tony go. If he did he was sure Tony would fall, ass in the air, face into the floor.

"One cap full?" He shook the bottle, didn't look like any was missing so Tony was probably lucid enough to be right. He'd probably only taken the one dose then crashed out.

Tony was nodding.

"Hungry?"

"Only if I don't have to swallow." And Tony was staring again, complete focus. Staring between slow blinks. Eyelids heavy, blood shot eyes.

Gibbs smile was grim.

"The doctor didn't give you anything else? No antibiotics?"

"Yeah." Smiling. "Huge fucking things. You should see them Boss, stuff they give to horses. Hurt like hell to swallow so I don't want any more of those either. Can we try your doctor next, cause I think mines trying to kill me."

"I'm going to kill you." Muttered even as his hand rubbed the back of Tony'd head. "Come on, soup, then bed."

Tony was pushing into the hand on his head, the heat was hot but the hand, he liked the hand. The hand was good. Rubbing, stroking. His eyes had drooped but he managed to crack them open to see Gibbs bemused smile.

"You stay here, I'll make soup. Then bed for you I think."

"Bed sounds good." Quirked smile that Gibbs assumed was meant to look like a leer. He felt his own smile grow.

"Alone DiNozzo." He carefully let Tony go, waiting to see which way he would list before completely letting go. "I'll get soup. You, stay here."

Repeating it just in case Tony hadn't got it the first time. He didn't seem to be completely with it. The combination of pills, cough syrup and flu had made him, flirtatious? Distracted? Both. Only Tony could do both. Smiling, bemused again, he left Tony on the couch to head to the kitchen, hoping he still had a can of something left over from the last time he'd shopped. Which was...awhile ago now.

***

"If he gets disorientated he could get violent, you should bring him straight to the hospital. It's not worth risking..."

"Right." Gibbs cut him off. "So you're sure Tony can have the cough medicine?"

Gibbs was watching from the open bedroom door. Tony was curled away from him, asleep. Shoulder rising and falling softly, the coughing fit seemed to have finally passed.

"Yes but..." The doctor continued.

Shaking his head, Gibbs snapped the phone shut.

***

"You don't have to do this Boss." Between one bout of coughing and the next. Gibbs arm wrapped round Tony's shoulders, keeping him upright and pressed against Gibbs body. Three days of constant coughing had left Tony weak and barely able to sit upright on his own.

"That your way of telling me to leave DiNozzo?" Hand rubbing between Tony's shoulder blades as the coughing subsided. His skin was hot and sweaty, he badly needed a shower but Gibbs drew the line at that. Been there, done that and now was not the time to revisit it. Not when Tony was barely able to stand. Not when he was letting his head rest on Gibbs shoulder, grin pressing into Gibbs throat.

A verbal reply got smothered by another coughing fit, followed by groaning.

"I'm dying, aren't I? Months chained in that damn place and I get home to die of a stupid flu. That just isn't fair." Hoarse and matter of fact, smiling into Gibbs neck and stroking the words directly into his skin.

"You're not dying DiNozzo." Trying to sound impatient whilst he tried to ignore a sudden rush of heat.

"Says the man who's holding me up so I don't choke on my own phlegm." Deadpanned complaining.

"If you don't stop moaning I'll choke you myself." Tone annoyed but hand sliding away from Tony's neck, fingers sliding into neutral territory.

"Moaning? When was I moaning? Have you been fantasising about me again Boss?" Cheeky and completely without remorse. He had Gibbs in his bed. He was high on three different drugs and completely certain he'd regret every word of this the moment he was sober enough to care. But right this moment, right now, Gibbs was close and hot and stroking his damn hair. He'd had dreams like this.

"Enough Tony." Clear and serious. Tony was drugged and Gibbs was not letting this continue. "Go to sleep."

It was enough to stop Tony's effortless flirting. Gibbs was happy to see that part of him come back and as much as he hated Tony's pretentious shit of a doctor, the little bastard was right. Tony would agree to anything. One word and Tony would rush ahead without a second thought, trusting Gibbs. To be in charge. Do the right thing. To take care of Tony.

***

"I ah..." Tony was almost reduced to stuttering, which wasn't surprising considering Gibbs had been gone less than a week and now there was a plasma monstrosity living in the space his old TV had filled. Apparently inadequately filled. Tony shifted, remote in hand, TV muted. "I should have asked."

"Nope. Your house too while you live here." Gibbs kicked his shoes off and nudged them against the wall where they always lived when he wasn't wearing them.

"I got headphones so the sound won't bother you." Tony offered, tone apologetic despite Gibbs reassurances.

"Whatever DiNozzo." As He jogged up the stairs, overnight bag in tow.

It was a few minutes before he returned to find Tony staring at the news. The sound was still off. Tony's eyes tracked him as he came back down the stairs and sat at the opposite end of the couch.

"Was bound to happen Tony." Direct and honest. Easiest way to get the message across. Gibbs turned to look at the new TV and winced. It was easily the same size as the one in the squad room. "Did you have to get one so big?"

He turned in time to see Tony wince.

"I can take it back..." Tony was still apologising, distinctly uncomfortable.

"Did I tell you to take it back?" Blue eyes direct, pinning Tony down.

"Well no, but..."

"Tony."Gibbs tone forced him to stop. "Keep the damn TV. Buy whatever the hell else you want. Just stay outta the basement." Warning clear.

Tony watched him a moment, assessing, but Gibbs didn't lie. Withheld information, yeah. All the damn time, but he didn't lie. Finally he grinned.

"Good, cause that bed in your spare room." He laughed softly, then dead pan. "I replaced it."

Tony was grinning but Gibbs could see the edge of waiting, unsure, twisted in the quirk of his smile, tightness between eyebrows.

"I'm surprised you waited so long." And Gibbs was still being honest, even as something else started to slide into place. It wasn't that Tony was buying things to put in Gibbs house. Or even that Tony was buying things for himself. It was that Tony was buying expensive looking things from the make, model and sheer size of the TV.

Gibbs paused long enough to consider how many ways he could go about the conversation or even if he should go about the conversation he had a feeling they needed to have. Tony was accessing money. A lot of money from the looks of it. Despite the fact his current stateside accounts were depleted from the hospital treatment. Gibbs had been covering most of that for the last six months. So, that meant one of two things. Tony was borrowing money or Tony had accessed the Swiss accounts he'd almost lost his sanity to keep.

Tony was tense and Gibbs rubbed a hand over his mouth, eyes skating away, to the TV, then back again wasn't helping.

"You want a beer?" Gibbs finally asked.

It wasn't what Tony had expected.

"I'm not supposed to..."

"Tony." Quiet. "Do you want a beer or not?"

He mustered up a smile to throw at Gibbs.

"I'd love a beer Boss."

***

Tony couldn't remember everything, just enough to access three of his four accounts. But three was enough.

***

You have a bed DiNozzo. Don't you like your bed DiNozzo?

Brand new one Boss. Bed's just fine.

Tony likes his bed, it's just, He doesn't stop by to shake Tony awake on His way up to His bed when Tony sleeps in it. Whether He's spent all night working on the boat or all night out working. Tony knows, if he falls asleep here, Gibbs hand will shake his shoulder, His fingers will slide softly through his hair. Sometimes He even carefully removes the headphones and tosses them gently onto the coffee table. Coffee table now covered in magazines of beautiful women in tiny underwear or bikini's that Tony barely notices most days.

Too busy watching Him sand invisible notches out of the curved wood. Invisible till He takes Tony's hand and brushes it over the rough patches. Soft and coarse, smooth and warm from His hands. Tony smiling and nodding, barely able to concentrate on anything other than His hands, His body heat, wanting to press back against Him, feel Him press all up and down Tony's back. Shoulders to hips, knees to thighs. Wakes him in the middle of the night, hot and hard from dreaming the smell of freshly sanded wood.

***

"DiNozzo." The hand shaking his shoulder was getting stronger, less light, more forceful. "Hey. DiNozzo. Something wrong with your bed?"

"Beds great." Groaning hoarse, rolling on the couch to stare up into blue eyes. Blue eyes which were frowning.

"So why you sleeping on the couch?"

"Was watching something, must have fallen asleep." Smile spreading across Tony's face even as His blue eyes flicked over to the silent, dark TV screen and back again.

"TV's off DiNozzo."

"Oh."Smile faltering. "Must have turned it off in my sleep." Like it's a perfectly rational explanation.

"Yeah. Must have." Not buying the lie for a second. Instead moving round the couch till He can tap at Tony's feet. "What's goin on?"

Tony dragged himself up, buying time. Feeling the couch dip as He sat at the other end. Close. Closer than He'd been in days. All week. How to explain? How not to explain? How to get Gibbs off the trail? Who was he kidding? Gibbs did this for a living. Live interrogation. Damn.

He watched Tony's face as he stretched and yawned. Tony glanced His way and He made a point of looking at His watch.

"Sometime today DiNozzo." Pointed, blue eyes staring.

Live interrogation. Damn.

"And don't even think about lying." He reminded.

"You don't feel even a little guilty about interrogating a torture victim." Tony aimed for wounded, trying to think. How to explain? How not to sound like a needy freak?

Blue eyes steady, accessing. Considering.

"You don't want to talk, then fine." Calm. "But no more sleeping on the couch." And He started to rise.

"But..." The word out before Tony could stop to think.

Tony couldn't decide. Was this part of the interrogation? Was Gibbs just using this as a way to get him to talk? It was working. He didn't want it to work. He wasn't a victim. He wasn't here to be interrogated. He didn't like being interrogated. He had to deal with that every time he went back to the damn hospital. Which was tomorrow. Or today. It was early enough. Just after three am. Damnit. Damn, damn, damn.

"Tony." And His voice was soft, hand reaching out. "I wasn't trying to..."

"Second nature Boss." A half smile, but irrational anger was rising. "It's your job. You're good at your job." The smile faltered.

Which somehow made it worse. Maybe that explained three ex-wives.

"Tony." Waiting, watching till Tony looked over, looked up again, met his eyes. "This isn't an interrogation. I'm tired. I'm going to bed. You don't need to tell me a damn thing. Understood?"

Silence. It was the first time the automatic 'Yes Boss' hadn't fallen out of Tony's mouth. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath. Two months. Almost three. And countless months before that. Hell the first words out of Tony's mouth had practically been 'Yes Boss', and now somehow, thoughtlessly he'd destroyed something. Wouldn't be the first time. He had three ex-wives to prove that. No doubt about it though, this was worse.

"Talk to me." Quiet. Direct.

Continued silence. Tony's body language shutting down, shutting him out.

"Damnit DiNozzo. Tony. Jesus. I didn't mean. You don't have to. I just...tell me anything. Say something. Say nothing. It's up to you. Just...This isn't an interrogation. I'm not forcing you to say anything. Tell me what you did today. Tell me you're pissed. Say anything you like."

"You're kinda contradicting yourself there, Boss." Tony was breathing hard, trying and failing to grin, to laugh, to let it roll off as a joke. "Say something, say nothing. You sort of have to pick one and be clear about it."

"I just meant..." And He was relieved just to hear Tony's damn voice at this point. To keep him in the room and not have him vanishing up the stairs and behind a closed door.

"Yeah, I got that part." And he looked so serious. All joking gone. The smiles. The laughter. Eyes steady and mildly hostile.

Then there was silence again.

"I've been in interrogations all day."

"Is that an apology or an explanation?" And Tony was even sounding hostile now. The standard of calm or carefree was sliding away.

Gibbs had seen stress in the last few weeks, frustration, impatience, hell even lust but hostile was new. Every other emotion had been directed at situations and that moment in the basement with the sand paper, body heat and the boat. It was inevitable. The second B was for bastard and...were the ex-wives an explanation or a cop out?

"An apology." He watched Tony for a response, waited for him to let it slide like he always did. But there was only a shift to neutral, a slow slide into something else he hadn't seen in a long time. The mask Tony wore when he didn't want people to see what he was thinking, obviously feeling. "I'm sorry Tony, I shouldn't have..."

"Acted like an insensitive ass?" Another flare of hostility before Tony finally looked away, watched a blank TV for a moment before looking back to Gibbs. "It's late. I really should be sleeping in bed."

"Sleep wherever you damn like." Gibbs was getting frustrated but tried to rein it in. Hand scrubbing over his face. He was tired damnit! He didn't want to come home to this. And didn't that sound familiar. But damnit! Tony wasn't his wife. Any of his wives. Ex-wives. "I said I'm sorry, now I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Three steps towards the stairs before Tony spoke.

"Gibbs."

"What!"And he couldn't help the way it snapped out as a demand, body turning so he could glare. "What Tony?"

"You always wake me if I sleep here." And the anger had drained out, leaving something akin to defeat.

Silence again. This time Tony was staring at the floor. He'd made it to his feet but that was as close as he'd come to a Gibbs who was staring at him in shock. Shock rapidly followed by guilt. The doctor had told him about this. Dependency he'd called it. Had sounded more like Gibbs taking advantage of Tony at the time but...

"And wow doesn't that sound needy. Don't even think it Boss. I don't mean that, I just meant you're the only one who I can talk to here. The rest of you are working and the shrink," He watched as Tony smiled easily again. "So doesn't count."

A quick eye roll to finish the performance. Gibbs had seen it a thousand times before. But not quite like this.

Words sprung up that Gibbs had to divert away. He'd spent too long interrogating today to be sure they wouldn't come out in ways that would send this conversation right back to the beginning. Instead he nodded.

"And now," Tony's brilliant smile. "I'm going to bed. We can glare at each other over coffee in the morning." Smug smile as he attempted to sail right on pass Gibbs who reached out and smacked the back of his head.

Tony mock cringed and flinched.

"Thanks Boss." But he sounded happier now than Gibbs had heard him all day.

"Good night DiNozzo." If he was softer than usual Tony didn't comment.

"Night Boss." Cheerily jogging up the stairs.

***

There's a first time for everything. First time for dinner as a team. First time for dinner with half the team. They haven't done this before. Tony hasn't, maybe they have, did, whilst he was gone. But this time it's just Ducky, Abby, Tony and Gibbs. There've been lunches before. Ducky, Kate and Tony. Sometimes Abby too, but work means they can't always leave the building at the same time. Mostly it was Ducky and Kate and the occasional Tony. It makes Tony miss Kate. They've never done this with Ziva. Not that Ziva's done anything wrong. It's not Ziva's fault, it's just...too wrong, too soon, too busy. Not Kate. Hurts too much. Too many memories.

The last time it was Tony's turn to pay and he never did. Kate was kidnapped, and Ducky, Ducky had to pay. Tony can't forgive himself. He shouldn't have left. Shouldn't have run after the blond. The sweet tight ass of an assassin. They never found time for another lunch. Just the three of them. They tried...but things, cases, work, life, everything got in the way and it never happened. Tony regrets that.

Tony regrets a lot of things.

Regrets letting Gibbs sit on the inside of the booth, allowing Tony the outside seat. Free air and a hundred people who can brush up against him. Too close, too loud. Tony wishes he'd taken the inner seat. The faint fear of being trapped could only be worse in theory. Tony thought it'd be worse there, but now, now he's starting to wonder if he was wrong. Very, very wrong. About a lot of things.

About being ready to go out in public like this. Out in the open in a crowded restaurant. Even if it is more diner than restaurant. Gibbs idea. Probably more for the protection of the booths than the food. And right now Tony doesn't care about the food. He cares about the fact he has a solid mass of wood and fake leather at his back. Protection. Weak but definitely there.

Abby and Ducky are polite enough to pretend he doesn't flinch at the rising pitch of voices, the steady stream of people brushing by the booth. He's not ready. Really, really not ready, he's decided. It's too much. Too soon. It's been three months. And he's been out in public but that's with Gibbs. The daily running doesn't count. He can away run for Christ sake. People get too close, he just runs faster. Gets away. Pushes through anxiety with adrenaline that's useful. Something he can use. Not this sitting and waiting. Trying not to crawl out of his skin every time the door slides open. Or the kitchen bell rings for service. A waiter or waitress scurrying off to answer it's call.

Tony doesn't want to know what he looks like. Like a junky. Like an addict. Like he's on edge. Cause he is on edge. On the edge and sliding closer to Gibbs. Hoping Ducky won't notice and Abby won't mention. His hand creeping over. Another bell chime and he's clutching Gibbs kneecap, hand grabbing for his upper thigh.

Conversation is a nightmare. Abby and Ducky rambling. Gibbs hand coming down, warm and solid, holding on, keeping him from flying apart. Maybe next time they should try this at night. Maybe 3am when it's quiet and there aren't people and sounds and sudden movements in the corner of his eye.

But Tony doesn't want to give up, doesn't want to give in. Even if he does want to run. Cause this is Hades, this is hell. And he's going to curse whoever's idea this was. Except it was his and he can't curse himself. Can he? Maybe he can. Maybe he did. Maybe that's why this is hell. Which is circular logic and Abby would be proud except he can't pry dry lips open to share.

"...the man had a fascinating liver structure, like nothing I've ever seen before. His records indicate he underwent an experimental transplant procedure three years ago. It's certainly the first I've seen..."

"Is this the Marine John Doe?" Tony zeroed into the conversation, words suddenly blurting out.

He needs something, anything, to take his mind off the scenery. But Ducky's blinking, explanation stopped short. A quick frown at Gibbs then he's focussed on Tony again.

"Yes. Though I wasn't aware you knew about the case." Mildly confused.

"Gibbs likes to keep me entertained." Aiming for amusing, despite his smile falling flat. "Doesn't want my brain to solidify."

Taking a drink and trying not to choke.

"Don't you mean stagnate? Or did you mean atrophy?" Abby wants to know. "And Gibbs! Don't be so mean. It's not Tony's fault he hasn't got work to do." Her eyes suddenly getting wide. "I mean... I don't mean that you couldn't Tony. Cause you can! You just...um..." A helpless look to Gibbs, who's smiling.

"Don't look at me Abbs." Taking a careful mouthful of coffee.

"Tony I am SO sorry, that was totally thoughtless of me." Abby looks horrified.

"Hey."A shrug as Tony smiles at her. "It's true." His hand on Gibbs thigh relaxing but not letting go.

"Have you really been giving him case files Jethro?" Ducky obviously disapproving.

Gibbs just stares.

"I distinctly recall Tony's doctor forbidding you." There's no anger, only shock.

"Tony gets bored." Gibbs shrugs.

"I am sitting right here you know." Protesting loudly. "And the doctor may have forbidden Gibbs from doing something."A broad grin. "But since when has that ever stopped Gibbs from doing anything?" Amusement clear and strong.

"I am right here you know." Gibbs staring a reminder.

"Well it's true."Tony smiling right back.

"I don't believe that was the point." Ducky forges on. "Jethro, do you think this is wise? Tony, and I don't mean to be disparaging but you've had a very difficult year...well...more. Don't you think your doctor..."

"It's not like he gives me the gruesome details Ducky." Tony counters with a smile, eyes finally focussed, direct and alert. "And I'm pretty sure I don't hear about half the cases Gibbs does."

"Ducky, Gibbs would never do anything to upset Tony." Abby suddenly placating. "You know that."

"You're right."Ducky concedes still genuinely concerned.

"Does that mean you're going to rat us out to the shrink?"Tony was finally hesitant. Unsure. Smile slipping.

"No. Of course not." Meeting Tony's eyes and looking every year his age. "It's simply."A long pause. "It was very hard whilst you were gone and possibly even harder to watch you..."Trailing off, looking down. "I'm sorry Anthony." Looking up to meet Tony's uncertain gaze, a brief glance to Gibbs then back again. "But you're right." Tone moving briskly along. "I shouldn't interfere. And as you seem to be set in your ways."A knowing grin. "The both of you, then I guess that's the way it's going to be."

"Gibbs'll take care of Tony, Ducky."And Abby sounds so certain.

"That I do not doubt, my dear." And Ducky's smile was full of mischief. "Of that I have no doubt."

***

"I was just wondering what kind of sister you'd make." Tony actually sounded genuinely curious, enjoying the way Abby's hand was snugly twined in his.

"Tony!" Scandalised. "You have to think about it? I make a great sister." Suddenly solemn. "But you'd have to stop trying to look up my skirt and imagining me naked."

Tony almost choked on his coffee, suddenly glad that Ducky had left their lunch early.

"I never..." Trying for innocent.

"Tony you were checking me out when I walked through the door." Eyes direct with minimal mocking. Almost all knowing. Definitely too much time around Gibbs.

"I did not!" Completely ignoring the fact he so had been.

"You so did. I saw you. Not that I'm complaining. A girl likes to know she's attractive now and then. In a totally, non sleazy, not creepy kinda way. Which totally isn't you. You may imagine me naked but you're so not creepy, or sleazy."

Tony's eyebrows were bunching.

"Thanks Abby." Smile twisting. "I think."

"Oh you think. You may be a complete perv Tony but never in a creepy way." Smiling and serious.

***

"Fuck!"

Hard and fast and heavy against his mouth. Hips already grinding, thrusting. Gibbs pushing Tony into the wall.

"God."

Wanting. Hard. So fucking hard already and Gibbs. Hands. Hips jerking. Hands tight and hard and wanting. Wanting him. Wanting him close and rough and more. More, more, and damnit More! Ached. He ached damnit. Craved. Needed. Desired. Craving skin on skin and heat and hot and Gibbs. Needed Gibbs.

Kissing hard and desperate. So desperate. So...hurt. It hurt! Made him whine. Made him gasp and whimper and groan. Hips rotating closer, harder then further away. Too close, too soon. Frustration and desperation. Begging, pleading, fighting Gibbs hands. Wanting, needing, begging for closer, even as it hurt and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt!

Till Gibbs hands were holding him back. Held him still. Held him away. Eyes wild, eyes wanting. Broken pleading, begging. He wanted. He needed. It hurt.

"Tony."

"Please." Desperate whine.

"It's alright. You're going to be alright." Blue eyes so sure.

But it hurt. Gibbs hands hurt. His eyes hurt. Everything Hurt!

It wasn't alright. It wasn't going to be alright. Nothing was alright and it was never going to be alright again. Not when push came to shove and sex came to pain and oh god it hurt. Why the fuck did it hurt?!

***

"We are not talking about this." Tony was adamant.

Half a stare. Gibbs didn't want to talk about it anymore than Tony did. Pain wasn't the normal reaction he received to heated groping in his hallway. Normally they'd be in his bed by now. Naked and he really needed to stop thinking about that right now because Tony was flickering between white pale and flushed red.

"Tony..."

"I said no."And he was standing, walking away.

"DiNozzo get your ass back here!"

"I don't know!" Yelling angry. But he was stopping before he hit the stairs. "Alright! I don't have any clues. No research done already."Turning on Gibbs with wide eyes. "No info up my sleeve. I have nothing Boss, nothing." And he sounded so helpless, defeated.

He'd been through months of torture, a year stuck in hospital and he'd never felt this helpless. Well, that was probably an overstatement, or an understatement but he'd never felt this humiliated. He wanted this. Wanted to touch Gibbs, wanted to kiss him, end up in his bed and instead he'd freaked the fuck out and humiliated the hell out of himself in the man's hall way. How do you explain to someone that one minute you're so horny you could come in your pants and the next everything hurts? That every touch that was a second ago pleasure is now excruciating pain?

And god the kissing had been good. The taste, texture, every single touch making his heart race, cock throb. Desire. Pure, visceral. Want. Need. Craving. Years of fucking craving spinning out of control the moment his mouth had finally, finally come into contact with lips and tongue and the heat. God, hot mouth. Grunting moan. He could come. Knew he could come from just that touch. Lips, teeth, tongue. Biting desperation in a kiss.

Skin. Skin on skin under his palms, fingertips. Sensation and waves of lust. Nothing before was like it. Nothing like the gentle wonder. This was tasting sweat, searing kiss, forgetting all other temptations but this and now and yes, yes, god yes! Gibbs mouth with his, just as hard, just as wanting, craving, desperate. Moaning into Tony's mouth. Hips pleading touch. Cock, his cock. So hard. So straight and stiff and close. Hot rod.

Which made him laugh. Hysterical and high. Grabbing for the wall and hoping for salvation. He was insane. Royally fucked. He had completely lost his mind this time.

***

"You done?" Blue eyes level and direct.

"No. Not even close." There were tears and the floor. His ass hitting it hard, arms wide, palms plastered against the wall.

To make matters worse he was still hard. He let his head hang, hands letting go of the wall. He was down on the floor, no further to fall. If he tore his hair out now that was his prerogative.

"Tony."Quiet.

"If you say it again I swear to god I'll scream."

A snort. Just loud enough to make him look up. No pity. No patience.

"If you're done with your dramatic scene."

"Bastard."But it was enough to make Tony smile. Familiar. Gibbs being nice was just wrong.

***

"I ah..." A deep breath before a deluge of words. "Bug Man thinks it's a side effect of the torture. Small stuff's fine. Big stuff gets confused. Pleasure pain." A wince as Tony finally looked away. "Sensory overload."

***

A sharp slap to the back of his head broke Tony's doze. He had a rapid blink and a second to wince as Gibbs passed by.

"Go to bed DiNozzo." Shedding his jacket across a living room chair.

No hesitation. Just footsteps stalking through the house. A clatter of anger as Gibbs went straight downstairs.

A pause to wonder. Gibbs had been gone most the week. Tony knew they had a case. Some kind of man hunt but Gibbs had refused to talk. Even Abby wouldn't clue him in. To follow or not to follow? They couldn't accuse him of cowardice but Tony sighed. Into the lion's den.

The shatter of ceramic wasn't unexpected. Just loud enough to cover a hasty exit, or entrance. Tony stopped at the top of the stairs. If was kicked out he'd leave, if he didn't then...the smack hadn't felt like he was pissed at Tony. Just the rest of world.

White knuckles, hands clenched. First step, a creak and Gibbs turned. There didn't need to be words. The patented level stare was enough. Tony retreated.

***

"You should be in bed."

Tony jolted, blinked awake to blue eyes.

"Was waiting." Sudden yawn, and from the look in Gibbs eyes, Tony decided it was a blessing he couldn't continue speaking.

He'd been sleeping on the couch. House cold. TV off. Kitchen light on, sliver of light creeping up the basement stairs.

"You're not my wife DiNozzo." Sharp edged annoyance.

"I noticed." Tony just rolled his eyes.

"You're only my..." Face a thunder cloud.

"I heard you the first time." Tony kicked his feet off the couch and was surprised to watch Gibbs sit down.

Yawning gave him time to watch Gibbs settle, a touch unsteady. Bourbon. At least a few. The smell wafting over. Also wood shavings and maybe...blood. Tony frowned. Heart rate suddenly faster. Sleep fog clearing away. Gibbs hadn't been home most the week. Bad case, wouldn't tell Tony a thing.

A frown was long enough to notice the cleared spot on the coffee table as he rolled to sitting. Gibbs had been watching him sleep he might be angry but he wasn't moving away. Heat spread up and down Tony's side.

Silence.

There was nothing he could say, either Gibbs would explain or he wouldn't, that was always the way.

Instead Gibbs stared at the slowly shifting ceiling, head dropped back to rest against the back of his couch. Tony spent more time living on it, but that didn't make it Tony's, it was still his. Possessive bastard. He smirked. Wasn't like he'd pretended to be otherwise. His things were his, his people were his, Tony was his. Even if taking that further, taking...shit. He raised a hand to scrub his face and it got waylaid in Tony's hair. Closing his eyes didn't make the action go away. Trying to ignore the heat Tony gave off, the way he pressed into his hand didn't help either.

He hadn't touched for awhile, he'd avoided. Now as he tried to pull away his damn hand had a mind of its own. Which was a piss poor excuse for leading Tony on. But he still couldn't seem to stop.

Tony had been quietly pushing. Touching. Pressing closer. And he'd let him. Never pushed him away...even if he'd never taken advantage, he'd never touched Tony. Had kept his hands to himself. Tony had been, should be, was off limits. Dependant. Subordinate. Rule twelve. Even if it didn't quite work that way. Even if Tony didn't work for him. Tony was dependant. Even if he wasn't really dependant any more. Tony went out. He did things, functioned without him. Could think for himself.

Everything was too complicated. Even if sometimes Tony made it simple. There was still the little point of Tony not being able to cope with getting it on. Having sex. Jesus. He was fifteen again.

"Bad case?"

Just a grunt. He didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want Tony to know about it. Tony was still...he could probably deal, but it wasn't his job and Gibbs didn't want him to know.

"Everyone okay?"

Trust Tony to ask.

"Ziva and McGee?" Because Gibbs was taking too long, either falling asleep or avoiding the question.

"They're fine." Hand finally pulling away.

A long pause.

"You want the couch?"

Blue eyes cracking open. Tony was watching him, eyes and mouth so close.

"You're not my..." But his stare was half focussed, voice less severe.

"I heard you the first time." Another eye roll. "Take the couch. Doubt you can get up the stairs."

Sharp smack to the back of his head.

"Ow!" Wounded frown. "Or maybe you can."

"Go to bed Tony." Soft smile, secret smile, letting his eyes close.

Silent pause.

"What DiNozzo?" Impatient. Eyes cracking open to see Tony's mouth curve into a smile of his own.

"Nothing. Going to bed Boss. See you in the morning." Still smiling as words were followed by actions. Gibbs watched him disappear up the stairs.

***

"Tony!" Abby was scandalised. Not an unusual reaction to some of the things Tony could say. "So does that mean you're, you and Gibbs? Are you really...you know...?"

"Are Tony and I what, Abby?"

Abby's eyes couldn't have gotten wider, back suddenly ram rod straight.

"Nothing Gibbs." Glaring at Tony whilst simultaneously nudging his shin with her platform boot.

Tony yelped and flinched, acting like she'd kicked him far harder than Gibbs knew she had.

"I miss anything?" Gibbs slid into the chair to Tony's left.

"Apart from Abby attacking me with her monster boots, no." Tony was still acting injured.

"We're still waiting for Ducky." Abby offered. "Tony was just telling me all about..."

"Nothing!" Glaring at a smug looking Abby. "Nothing Boss, you haven't missed a thing. Abby's just been entertaining me with the exploits of Major Mass Spec and her delightful self." Smooth smile covering a sudden light blush.

Gibbs watched the two of them lying back and forth like children as he accepted his pre-ordered coffee from the waitress. They'd been talking about something interesting, something Tony didn't want him to know about from the quick blush and rapid decoy conversation tactics. Nothing too important but interesting enough to keep Tony from meeting his eyes for a few moments. He'd have to keep an eye out for that information, even if he had a pretty good idea what Tony was blushing about. It wasn't every day Tony backed him into the work bench to invade his personal space. Even if it had been under the guise of a sudden desire to help. Sudden desire indeed, he smiled to himself.

"What are you smiling about?" Tony was demanding.

"Coffee's good here. We should do this more often." Raising his eyes to meet Tony head on, letting him watch as he savoured a mouthful of coffee, throat swallowing. Watching Tony's eyes flash darker before coughing and turning away to stare at an entranced looking Abby.

"Oh My God you two really are...!"

Gibbs stare swung round to stop her in her tracks.

"Are...are really, really...Wow." Stuttering to a stop. "I'm going to the bathroom. Too much cafpow." Then she was up, out of her chair and gone. Gibbs really hoped she wasn't running off to call Ducky.

***

It was inevitable to see Tony sprawled over half his bed. After the help he'd been receiving with the boat. He'd have been blind not to notice Tony stepping closer, brushing up against him, sliding warm hands up his back, under his soft, worn Marine t-shirts. It should have been wrong, should have felt different. Instead it felt right and like everything was exactly the same. He knew the minute that he woke Tony there'd be an excuse, that the moment he slid under the blankets Tony would find a reason to slide closer.

Instead Gibbs got a half startled gasp and a grumble as he slid into bed behind him.

"Took you long enough." Tony mumbled.

He should have remembered he'd taught Tony not to make excuses.

"Didn't know I had company waiting." It was too easy to snipe back.

Another grumble followed by a grunt.

"I could leave."Tony offered.

"Or you could stay."

"Or I could stay." But Tony didn't sound convinced.

Gibbs wasn't the type to soothe Tony's ego, to smooth over an awkward situation he hadn't made. Especially not in his own bed. But he wanted to touch, wanted to see how long it would take for Tony to calm down.

It was easier than he thought to slide closer, hand alighting on Tony's lower back. Hand resting against smooth skin, deliberately avoiding scars. Scars he knew he could find despite the dark. A jagged scar over Tony's hip, the rough skin across his back, fine lines crossing broad shoulders. Knew he'd find soft skin over Tony's ribcage, a light dusting of hair.

But expectations didn't match reality. Tony didn't roll over or push an advantage. Gibbs felt muscles relax into his mattress, tension uncoil.

Until Tony felt a hand slide across his shoulder, heat colliding with his back. Gibbs suddenly inches closer.

"This a problem?" Gibbs was pressed against him almost all the way down.

"No." Slightly breathless, sudden reality. He'd started this, wanted this, freaking ached for this and now finally, finally he was getting it, something he wanted. And for some reason there was a 'but' in there somewhere? Again. Not the sort that made him want to stop, but made him think that maybe he sort of wanted this to slow the fuck down before he got so far ahead of himself he didn't know what the hell he was doing.

But Gibbs hand wasn't moving from his stomach. His legs and hips weren't getting closer against his. Tony could feel the light press of breath against his shoulder but...that was it. That was everything. No rushing. No fireworks. Heat. Warmth all up and down his back but...

"Go to sleep Tony." Quiet, with a distinct side order of 'you're an idiot DiNozzo'.

"Alright." And he wasn't breathless now, muscles carefully untangling, loosening till he could relax into the warmth, feel Gibbs shift and get comfortable, his body relaxed into a groove.

Tony wondered if Gibbs missed this. Tony knew he did. Knew he'd never had it and knew he missed not having it anyway. Women were different, women didn't slide against his back, warm and safe and protecting. Didn't ever literally cover his back.

"Stop thinking." Gibbs words were getting a soft edge.

"You ever miss this Boss?" Because Tony was curious and if Gibbs was sounding soft then now, if ever, he had a fighting chance of an answer.

"Everyone misses this Tony." Silence while Tony felt Gibbs hand shift, cover his. "Sometimes even me."

"I miss this." Suddenly out there, despite how much it was obvious. "I mean, everything but..."

"Yeah." A quiet breath. "I know."

Silence and Tony could feel himself drifting off again.

"Thanks for not kicking me out." Quiet, completely honest.

Slight shift and there was heat, a soft fog of breath against his shoulder, a ghost of a kiss.

"Goodnight Tony."

"Goodnight Boss."

***

Gibbs hand, soft and sure on the back of his head woke Tony. There was silence. Then the refrigerator whirring on. Fingers still stroking. Fridge? Fridge meant living room. Couch.

"Sorry Boss." Eyes cracking open. "I really meant to stay awake this time."

But Gibbs wasn't speaking, just watching Tony roll over slowly. Till he could finally face Gibbs with a yawn. The TV was silent and black. Gibbs hand still on the back of his head.

"Hey." Blinking groggy. "Is something wrong?" Green eyes wary, watching, tracking across blue eyes, smooth face, bare movement of expression.

A silent head shake.

But Tony frowned, Gibbs didn't normally sit on the coffee table and he didn't normally watch him sleep. At least Tony was fairly sure, almost certain he didn't. Not anymore. May have to begin with but hadn't for months.

"Rough case?" Because something wasn't right, even if nothing was wrong.

Fingers retreated to Tony's shoulder. Gibbs was looking away. Glancing towards the stairs.

"You should get to bed, it's snowing outside." Quiet, hand patting his shoulder once then just resting now.

"Everyone okay?" Watching him slowly look back, meet Tony's eyes.

Tony always wanted to know that, Gibbs realised. Despite everything going on, all he'd been through, Tony always wanted to know. He might not work with the team right now. May not be part of investigations but he was family, they were family. A dysfunctional, odd little family but to Tony a family none the less.

"They're fine. Probably in bed by now." Hand pulling back completely to rest against his own thigh.

"You going to work on the boat?" Green eyes gauging.

Wry tug at the corner of his mouth. Tony knew him too well.

"Yeah Tony." Soft, slight smile. "I'm going to work on the boat."

"Mind if I watch?" Tony watched lids briefly cover tired blue eyes.

"Haven't kicked you out so far." Honest, watching Tony smile. Open, almost carefree. A nice surprise after the week he'd barely survived.

"Well there was that..."

"One time." Blue eyes suddenly direct. "And I..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."Tony rolled his eyes. "Should have known better. Damn ex-wives."

Silent, pointed look.

"Hey I apologised." Hands rising in surrender. "You could have just posted a sign."

Another pointed look. Obviously not in the mood for chatter, Tony filed.

***

"Jesus it's freezing down here."

Tony had let him change in private, let him have fifteen minutes of silence in the basement, palms soft over smooth wood. Touch soothing. Familiar. Fifteen minutes where Gibbs wondered how long it'd take Tony to get off the couch and find warmer clothes and shoes. Fifteen minutes to wish he'd gotten to pale blue faces and fine blond, pigtailed hair sooner. Fifteen minutes to be glad Tony wasn't back at work again.

Fifteen minutes then hands, arms creeping round his sides, heat pressing into his back.

"Not tonight Tony." Quiet.

Enough time to feel Tony flinch, pull away again.

"Sorry Boss." Quiet breath of laughter. "It's really cold down here."

Nodding, reaching for empty coffee cups. Tony influence, Gibbs mused with a wry smile. Tony was deliberately leaving them down here now. His reasoning obvious. They might get dirty but Gibbs couldn't argue, it was better than drinking bourbon out of old glass jars. Jars that held screws for god knew how long. Screws, old brushes, the occasional spider. Tony had learnt subtle better than three ex-wives. Used coffee cups vanished, clean coffee cups appeared. The constant supply of bourbon didn't hurt either. Especially the good stuff.

It was perfect on nights like these. He filled two coffee cups, handing one to Tony as he leant back against the bench top. Tony was eyeing him closely as he mock toasted and took a deep mouthful.

"That bad?" Tony wanted to know. Eyes level, waiting.

Blue eyes glaring.

"Bad enough then." Answering his own question and sipping his own cup of bourbon, wincing. "I'm still not sure how you drink this stuff." Peering into the cup for answers.

"If you don't like it, stop buying it." Voice even with simple logic. Watching Tony flush warmer. Not enough alcohol to keep him warm but obviously enough embarrassment to get a reaction.

"You drink it." A shrug, another sip, eyes down, then up, meeting Gibbs.

A grunt. He knew why Tony kept buying it. Honestly he didn't have a complaint he was just, deflecting. If Tony wanted to continue this conversation then fine, but Gibbs doubted it would get very far. Normally Tony would talk and he would enjoy the chatter. No need for him to say much, just work, just listen. Tonight was not the night to try to change that pattern.

Another mouthful and he left the cup on the bench to start working.

Silence may be golden but the sounds of bare hands working wood were better. Soft slide of sand paper, long strokes of the plane. Power tools weren't just wrong for the job, they were noisy. Boat making was all about the long haul. Deft fingers knowing. Listening to the wood, feeling every grain underneath his hands. Nothing could compare to the feeling. It was solitude in a crowd, safety in a war zone.

It was looking up hours later and not being surprised to find Tony long gone.

***

Finding Tony asleep wasn't all that surprising. Having to seek him out in his own bed was a little more so. One night in Gibbs bed and Tony rarely went back to his own.

"Your hands are cold." Hoarse grumble.

Said hands were suddenly under Tony's t-shirt. Tony's eyes suddenly open, body bucking away.

"Bastard." Cursing.

Low laughter in his ear.

"Seriously evil bastard." Continuing to curse even as he pulled Gibbs hands closer, his own wrapping over them. "Christ you're cold. Fucking freezing."

Knees tucking in behind his.

"You put cold feet on me and I swear I'll kick you out of bed."

"I'm sure you would." Smirking, mouth hovering over warm skin.

"Well..."Wavering.

"I didn't think so." Sure of himself. He knew Tony. Knew him and wouldn't be doing this if he wasn't sure. Tony wouldn't kick him out. Give Tony half a chance and he might beg to get in. Which made Gibbs stop.

The doctor didn't want Tony doing this, despite what Tony wanted. Despite just about everything. So Gibbs had to trust Tony. Trust that Tony knew what he was doing. Which was Tony taking his damn time. Eventually he'd start pushing for more and Gibbs could only wait, hope for 'not yet'.

"You smell like bourbon." Clear but he could hear Tony slipping back under.

"Go back to sleep Tony."

"Tomorrow's Sunday." Barely coherent mumbling.

"Yes." Bemusement.

"No work on Sunday."He was practically asleep.

"No, no work on Sunday." Realising with growing relief, the week was finally over.

***

"You should have been there." Gibbs voice a sharp slice of anger.

But he was turning vivid blue eyes away, hands smacking against the basement bench top. Back straight. He didn't want to yell at Tony, for once his anger was something he wanted to hide.

Tony didn't take it personally. Gibbs was right, he should have been there, but this, this was something they couldn't fight. Tony had to wait. Had to keep seeing a useless, clueless shrink who still thought Tony was a violent waste of space. Well, Tony considered, perhaps not quite that bad. But he still thought Tony couldn't be trusted. Shouldn't be living with Gibbs, but shouldn't be living alone. Never happy, always sniping, reminded Tony of his childhood.

Gibbs was almost vibrating with annoyance now. Hands gripping the bench top, knuckles almost white.

"You should have been there." Stabbing words vehement. "We needed..." Trailing off, head shaking, refusing to say the words.

Hands, open and warm, pooling heat into his sides. Fuck. He shouldn't be angry about this. Tony, Tony should be fuming and angry about this. But no, Tony was calm. Accepting. Six months. Six fucking months! When Tony could do the damn job now! Six months of what? Pointless review with that pathetic excuse for an expert.

But Tony wasn't chafing, Tony was too fucking calm. Tony was leaning closer, a wall of heat and he was...pushing, turning, shoving Tony away.

"Why aren't you pissed about this?" Eyes tracking Tony's every move. Taking in the loose shoulders, open hands, palms up in surrender.

"Because only one of us can freak out at a time." Smiling frown. "Who said that?"Pondering. "I'm sure I've heard you say that before. Or maybe it was..."

"A movie?" Glaring.

"Hey!" Mock wounded. "We agreed you wouldn't mock the movies." Suddenly serious. "You're not going to re-neg on that now?"

"You should be pissed." Determined.

Statement. Definitely a statement.

"Is that a fact." Nodding. "And what makes you think that I'm not?"

Gibbs knew Tony was good at deflecting, hiding in plain sight, for Christ sake he'd been excellent at undercover work but this, this was...A complete extension of that. And what had he said? Only one of them could freak out at a time? Damnit. Still glaring.

"You're overdue Boss." Voice quiet. Green eyes direct. Watching. Waiting. Still and calm. Gibbs turned away for a minute.

And Tony was right. Still right. Damnit. How long had he been doing this now? Six months, then twelve, another five. Two years? Almost two years now.

"When was the last time you got a break Boss?"

Why the hell did Tony have to sound so damn calm?

"You should still be angry."

"Oh I am. But right now I'm just angry on the inside. I'll let you take care of the outside." A quick smile. "Seriously Gibbs." Hands sliding back to his sides. "You are allowed a break now and then, and if you need me to go..."

"Don't be an idiot DiNozzo."Blue eyes glaring.

"Right. Cause if you wanted me gone I'd have been gone by now."Stepping forward into Gibbs personal space. "Gotcha."Leaning in.

"No one likes a smart ass."Refusing to acknowledge Tony's mouth against his skin.

Tony was grinning as he pressed his advantage. Gibbs wasn't pushing him away this time. Was letting him get in closer. Weight pressing him back against the work bench. Hips, thighs pushing Gibbs legs wide.

"You keep saying that and yet..."Lips brushing all protests aside. "I'm still here."

Gibbs kept his hands resting over denim, keeping strictly to the outside. Tony didn't stick to the boundaries, hands already skimming up under a t-shirt. Seeking out warm skin, that spot that made Gibbs breath hitch despite hard eyes. Leaning back to watch Gibbs blue eyes glaring.

"We can keep arguing if you like."Pleasantly offering. "Or I could..."

"Pushy bastard." But less biting as Tony's hips did a languid roll.

"Determined more like." Breathing Gibbs air. "If I waited for you I'd..."

Heat, slow, thorough kiss. Tongue heavy against his. Deep, teasing, then suddenly gone.

Tony was softly panting.

"Right." Tony gave another taunting hip roll. Watching blue eyelids shutter. A breathless moan. He didn't care if it was him right now. Gibbs may be staring, glaring, face impassive but his body was saying something else. Hands creeping up Tony's back, hips pushing into the teasing roll.

Sharing air, slow kiss, mouths carefully moving.

"Thought we weren't doing this in the basement." Moist breath. "Jethro."

Thighs, heat, shifting roll.

"Have I changed your mind?"

Hands finally on his ass. Breathless moan.

"You want me to stop you now?" Level blue.

Another moan.

"God no." Not when Gibbs hands were using his ass as leverage to start a slow grind of his own. "Does this mean..."

Another kiss. This time followed by a groan. Hands were pulling him closer and then a god damned hip roll. Brief tease of tongue then another grinding roll. Sneaky bastard. A tease of tongue, grinding roll. Forcing Tony to tease and follow. Bottom lip sliding, starting a grind of his own. Pressing his advantage and groan. They were really going to do this.

No stopping. No stop sign. No...heat, soft bite, roll. Hands moving restless. Shoulders, thighs, a hunt for that distracting spot, but he got caught up in the hip, groin, roll. Years, suddenly realising, years since he'd. Shudder, gasp, moan. Mouth shifting over Tony's throat now.

"You come from this?"

Each word a hot tease into oversensitive flesh. Groan. Soft smile. Tony could feel the curve. Secret smile then soft moan of Gibbs own as Tony's hips jack knifed forward.

"Jesus." Panting.

Gibbs hands under his shirt. Ignoring scars, aiming for sounds. A groan, a breathless aching moan. Getting distracted, lost as he tried to think straight, repay Gibbs mouth softly sucking skin, hand gripping his hip and...

"Oh..." Head tilting back, eyes rolling. "Fuck...Jethro..."

He was so hard. But this wasn't like before. No desperation. No hurting. Just waves. Rolling, grinding, aching. Hands and cocks and thighs. Hard. Fuck. Gibbs hard. Fuck. Moaning. Rocking. Mouth hot and tongue...Kissing tongue. Teasing. Taunting as heat skittered, slithered down. Gibbs holding him. Tony groaning as teeth, as...biting...coming as...moan. Hands, thighs, hips shaking. Groan.

Panting. Breathing hard and fast against Gibbs shoulder.

"Fuck Jethro." Gasping on air.

Groping and getting off had never, ever felt this good before.

***

A hand under his shirt wasn't new. The hand across the front was. Tony wasn't even trying to pass this off as helpful. This time was all about hips brushing against Gibbs ass, broad hand across his stomach, the other sweeping up his back, outside his shirt to cover Gibbs hand. Bodies stretched out over the boat frame, long strokes a poor mimicry of sanding, the sanding block was barely touching down. But the motion was enough, rocking backwards and forwards. Tony's body pushing softly against his.

Warm lips over Gibbs right ear, breath harsh, a soft groan. The free hand was travelling down, touching stomach, lower, rubbing at a hip.

"It's all about the grain, isn't it."Fingertips teasing, pushing at sweat pants. "Making sure to go with the grain of the..."Careful stroke of hips against his lower back. "Wood."

He couldn't help the smile. Trust Tony to find innuendo everywhere. He was happy to play along. Tony's body all up against his back, hips rocking slowly. Happy to play along till that free hand slid inside, pushing cloth out of the way to encircle his hardening cock. Then it was desire, washes of it, heat rushing up, then down, head falling back. Hand clutching sanding block, Tony's hands clutching him. Cock throbbing, ass sliding back, riding sensations.

Heat, hot. Slick, rough. Breath hitching. Moaning soft. Giving in. Losing his control.

Tony mouthing along his throat, lips behind his ear, teeth gentle against his neck. And that twist as Tony's hand reached the head of his cock? Everything calculated to make his hips jolt. Breath panting hot. Just a dozen strokes and he was pushing, pressing back, rocking into Tony's cock, listening, waiting for the answering rock. Hips thrusting forward.

"God."Tony's breath hoarse. "Knew you'd like this. Knew it'd be hot but..." A shudder. His whole body undulating over Gibbs. "Fuck!"

And Gibbs was caught, unable to stop. Entire body moving. Up and back. Hips and cock. Tony's breathing. Tony's trapped cock. Both their breathing getting harder. Then Tony was shifting, moving, pushing him higher, feet stretching further and oh fuck. Suddenly having Tony sliding between the hot space between his ass cheeks. Naked skin to bare cock.

"Oh Fuck!"Teeth embedded in his shoulder. "Jesus fuck." Hand suddenly tighter, strokes shorter. "God Gibbs I can't...Jethro I...fuck..."

Stroking, groaning in seconds. Moments between heat and motion. Then Tony was coming, jerking. Grinding motion between slick skin and it was enough for his own sympathetic cock.

***

Laughter.

"Hand it over McGoo."

"Tony."Whining sigh.

"Come on McGoo."Grinning unrepentant, hands impatiently demanding, waving, encouraging the flow of food to go his way. "Hurry it up. Some of us are starving."

"Some of us want you both to hurry it up." Gibbs stated.

"Yes Boss!" Tony's voice a gleeful chorus. "You heard the man Timmy." Still grinning. "Hand me the plate." Fingertips brushing the edge before McGee changed its direction and handed it to Gibbs on his left. "Hey, wait! That's not supposed to happen." And Gibbs could practically hear the pout as he took it from Tim's hands.

"Boss says he wants food Tony, who am I to deny him?" Smiling smugly.

"Just you wait McGoo, I have it on good authority Ducky brought with him desert."

"Did you really! Ducky please tell me you managed to get it!" Abby was way too excited for it to be a normal desert.

"I'll admit it wasn't easy to get my dear, but after some disappointments I was able to find someone who would make..."

"White chocolate and raspberry cheese cake."Tony sounded reverent. "Ducky you amaze me. I think I should just..." Moving to get up.

"Sit down, Tony." Gibbs was snarling through a grin. "I think you should eat the damn steak I spent half the night cooking."

"But I should, someone should check..." Hands moving, body frozen in motion.

A pointed glare between mouthfuls of his own steak got him slowly sinking back into his seat across from Gibbs.

"Right. Steak. Which you so..."

A crystal blue eye roll.

"Shutting up Boss."

McGee and Abby snickered.

"Whipped."Abby whispered under her breath.

Tony casually knocked his left knee against hers under the table. Abby smiled sweetly up at him.

"So McGeek, how's it going with your latest lady love?" Tony purred.

"Abby you promised!" Tim blushed furiously, seated across the table from Abby.

"I did not know you had a new girlfriend Tim." Ziva was frowning from one end of the dinner table.

Tim's blush deepened to mortified.

"I'm never telling you anything ever again." He vowed to Abby.

"Perhaps it would even the scales for you to know that Abby has been seeing a delightful gentleman from..."

Abby was making frantic shushing motions.

Gibbs caught Tony's eyes over the table and couldn't help but laugh quietly. The team dinner had been Tony's idea and was actually more entertaining than the conversations that currently went on in the squad room. Without Tony there with his rapid fire insults and constant babble of movie references, the squad room was much, much quieter by comparison. Had been for too long now. Three months, three more months and hopefully he'd be sick of hearing Tony's endless movie quotes and trivia.

***

"You left McGeek in charge of the investigation? Again? Is this because I'm here? You don't like leaving me here by myself? Cause I'm pretty sure I can..." Tony trailed off at Gibbs staring silence.

"Nope." Opening a cupboard and digging around for a clean coffee mug, Gibbs last one still downstairs with the boat.

"No? Just no. Not, no, because you know you can trust me here alone or no, you're sure I can take care of myself, because I'm pretty sure..." Confused and frustrated impatience.

"No. I left McGee in charge because he needs the experience and this is a straight forward investigation." Pouring coffee from the pot he'd made earlier. "One you could run it in your sleep."

"About that."

"Hey, you know you've only got a month left. Don't start bitching at me about it now." Leaning back against the bench to take a mouthful and watch Tony glare agitated. "You don't have anything to prove to me Tony." Serious.

He knew Tony was going stir crazy. Weekly lunches with Abby. Dinner with the team. Tony was ready to get back to work, Tony knew it, Gibbs knew it, even the doctor was starting to know it. But the director had set the timeline and come hell or high water she was sticking to it. So Gibbs had been throwing cold cases at Tony, not surprised when Tony found new leads and even managed to solve three. Tony was good at what he did. They just had to prove that to a bunch of bureaucrats.

"I know that." Softer, Tony was moving closer. "I just..."

"Losing your mind. Yeah. I think I've noticed that." Wry smile, but patient, letting Tony get closer before he put the mug on the bench.

"Ha ha, not funny Boss."

"You'll get your job back DiNozzo." And Tony was close enough to touch now, body heat pressing in before his breath played across Gibbs throat.

"Say that again." Lips trailing words like kisses.

"You heard me the first time." His hands coming up to rest on Tony's hips, thumbs sliding under his shirt.

"I want to hear it again." Tony's hands had already made it up under his shirt, heat against his sides, stroking upwards, slowly down, forward. Hot mouth under Gibbs jaw now, teasingly slow.

"You always get what you want?" Gibbs was arching into a hand that was pushing sweat pant fabric out of the way.

"Depends who I'm asking." Tony's hand was just outside Gibbs boxers now. Soft and slow, a stroking caress. "Some people are more stubborn than others."

A stuttered breath. Blue eyes, blue almost blown out by dark. But Tony needed to hear it.

"Please Jethro just..."

"You'll get your job back, I promise." Fingers on Tony's cheek before tilting into the kiss.

Soft, a moment of open lips dragging slow and careful over Gibbs then heat. Rush of a groan as Tony's hand found skin, stroking down, finding hair then up over damp skin like silk.

"Damnit." Moan. Hips already bucking into Tony's grip. His own hands reaching up to thread into hair, taking back some control. But Tony was already moving on, kiss taking charge, hand obliterating his control. It may not be fast but Gibbs knew it was going to be messy.

Half hard shifted to full, rocking between Tony's hands, letting him have the control. The kiss moving deeper, Tony's tongue drifting over Gibbs bottom lip.

"I could..." Tony's lips closing over Gibbs bottom one, sucking gentle, slow, while all he could do was quietly groan.

"No." Damn hand finding a rhythm now, shifting, speeding up, no longer slow.

"Don't like me on my knees Boss?" Teasing breath of laughter.

"Jesus." The mental image alone was enough to get him harder, breathing hot against Tony's open lips.

Blue eyes, green.

"Well I did rise again..." Tony surmised, changing his grip.

Gibbs groaned, knees almost collapsing. Eyes briefly rolling back.

"Shut up. Damnit." A panted moan. "Tony."

Lips hovering, brushing, teasing.

"Well you know how to do that." Smirking and heat, hot mouth then hips bucking as Gibbs kiss took control.

No more talking. No more banter. Just hips rolling, Tony stroking and groan, buck, moan. It was supposed to be like this. Gibbs panting, neck arching back, Tony carefully biting, sucking, teasing, leaving marks across his shoulders as Gibbs bucked, came, groaning in Tony's ear.

"Bedroom?" Strained, Tony hard, sliding against Gibbs hip.

"Right here." Carefully moving down.

"You locked the door right?" Just as heat sucked in Tony's cock head and he really didn't care. He wasn't going to last long. Feet wide, hands gripping behind at the sink, metal cold, slick, shiny. Hips rolling, cock sliding. Sliding inside, sliding out, it was enough.

Panting and laying on the floor.

"You did lock the door right?"

Gibbs laughing into his shoulder.

"Nope."