ficlet: the fourth wall
note: most of this was written about a month ago, while i was talking to skripka. for some reason, i didn't like it and tossed it away. i'd forgotten i wrote it until tonight, when i found it while looking for other things in the chat logs. i figured it was actually not all that bad, so i wrote more, added an ending, and here you have it. if you spot the break, more power to you. if you agree with my initial assessment, well, i do have bad days.
She rises above him, back arched, hair tumbling around her shoulders, dark blending into the shadows of the room, highlighting the paleness of her skin, colored silver by the moon. He can't make out the tattoos he knows are there, even though he can trace them with his fingers, his tongue.
Her breasts are full and round and her skin glows with sweat and Tony thinks he's never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
His hands link with hers, giving her leverage, and she uses his own strength against him as she braces herself on his palms, riding him for all she's worth, her cunt hot and wet around his cock, her breath quick and ragged in her throat.
Tony wants to flip her over and feel her legs wrap around his waist. He wants to drive into her and feel her moan and cry out and come when he's buried inside her. And then he wants to slide down between her legs and taste her and lick her clean and have her thighs tighten around his head and come again.
Problem is, he can't move. And it's not because he's bound to the bed, because--for once--he isn't. It's not even because of Abby, because he knows she'd let him.
It has nothing to do with any of that and everything to do with the man sitting silently in the faded armchair, watching both of them, little more than an outline in the darkness.
It has everything to do with Gibbs.
It's only the two of them on the worn sheets tonight, only two of them breathing hard and heavy. It's only Tony and Abby, their bodies joined and their hands locked together.
There are three people in the bed. And it doesn't matter that Tony can't touch Gibbs, that Abby can't twist her head and kiss him. It doesn't matter that he's a few feet away, fully clothed, doing nothing more than watching. He's there, he's in the bed, and Tony feels him as keenly as when Gibbs is the one using his body.
But there are only two people physically making love, and Abby's nails are digging into his hands now, soft whimpers and cries escaping her throat as she struggles toward orgasm, twisting down on his cock, hips moving frantically. Tony watches her and licks sweat off his lip and thanks every higher power he believes in that he's lucky enough to have this. Her.
Gibbs.
Abby's cries reach a high, keening pitch, and she clenches and spasms around Tony's cock as her head falls back in pleasure. "Oh," she says, voice vague and dreamy, sated and purring. "Oh..."
Tony bites his lip and watches and groans when she lifts herself off him, her hands slowly disentangling themselves from his. She licks her lips and pushes herself down his body, moving with the lazy grace of a woman who's just been thoroughly pleasured.
And she takes him into her mouth, licking her juices off his skin, sucking him clean, and Tony's eyes close on their own and he moans, low and deep in his throat. He knows Gibbs is watching, eyes intent on him, and he knows what he must look like, every inch of him spread out on the bed, Abby's mouth wrapped around his cock, his skin damp with sweat.
He can't hold on and he doesn't want to hold on. He wants Gibbs to see him like this, to see him this open, this exposed. Everything he is, all that he has, they're all Gibbs' now and when Tony comes with a gasp and a groan he knows that Abby swallows him down but Gibbs is the one who takes him in.
Abby crawls up his body to kiss him and he tastes both of them in her mouth. Gibbs stands and comes to the bed and kisses Abby, then Tony, his hands in their hair and his lips sure and gentle on theirs. "Beautiful," he murmurs, stroking Abby's hair, Tony's face.
They nuzzle into his hands like kittens, and when Tony kisses Gibbs' palm he tastes salt and calluses. Gibbs laughs, softly, and steps away to undress. He joins them on the bed and they tangle themselves around him, kissing him and caressing his skin. He's not hard, but when Tony reaches down for Gibbs' cock Gibbs shakes his head and catches Tony's hand, bringing it to his lips.
"I wanted to see you," he says softly. "That's enough."
Tony presses a kiss against Gibbs' shoulder. "Did you see what you wanted?" he asks, almost whispers. He knows Gibbs understands his question.
Gibbs traces the line of Tony's face with one gentle finger. "My boy," he says, soft and even and completely, utterly sure. He turns to Abby, matching her smile with one of his own. "My girl."
They sigh in contentment and settle in to sleep, and Tony drifts off with Gibbs' heartbeat under his ear and Gibbs' arm around him. He hears Abby murmur in her sleep and feels her hand on top of his where they rest across Gibbs' chest.
Abby has his heart. Gibbs has his soul.
It's nothing he'd ever have dreamed, and he can't imagine being any other way.
She rises above him, back arched, hair tumbling around her shoulders, dark blending into the shadows of the room, highlighting the paleness of her skin, colored silver by the moon. He can't make out the tattoos he knows are there, even though he can trace them with his fingers, his tongue.
Her breasts are full and round and her skin glows with sweat and Tony thinks he's never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
His hands link with hers, giving her leverage, and she uses his own strength against him as she braces herself on his palms, riding him for all she's worth, her cunt hot and wet around his cock, her breath quick and ragged in her throat.
Tony wants to flip her over and feel her legs wrap around his waist. He wants to drive into her and feel her moan and cry out and come when he's buried inside her. And then he wants to slide down between her legs and taste her and lick her clean and have her thighs tighten around his head and come again.
Problem is, he can't move. And it's not because he's bound to the bed, because--for once--he isn't. It's not even because of Abby, because he knows she'd let him.
It has nothing to do with any of that and everything to do with the man sitting silently in the faded armchair, watching both of them, little more than an outline in the darkness.
It has everything to do with Gibbs.
It's only the two of them on the worn sheets tonight, only two of them breathing hard and heavy. It's only Tony and Abby, their bodies joined and their hands locked together.
There are three people in the bed. And it doesn't matter that Tony can't touch Gibbs, that Abby can't twist her head and kiss him. It doesn't matter that he's a few feet away, fully clothed, doing nothing more than watching. He's there, he's in the bed, and Tony feels him as keenly as when Gibbs is the one using his body.
But there are only two people physically making love, and Abby's nails are digging into his hands now, soft whimpers and cries escaping her throat as she struggles toward orgasm, twisting down on his cock, hips moving frantically. Tony watches her and licks sweat off his lip and thanks every higher power he believes in that he's lucky enough to have this. Her.
Gibbs.
Abby's cries reach a high, keening pitch, and she clenches and spasms around Tony's cock as her head falls back in pleasure. "Oh," she says, voice vague and dreamy, sated and purring. "Oh..."
Tony bites his lip and watches and groans when she lifts herself off him, her hands slowly disentangling themselves from his. She licks her lips and pushes herself down his body, moving with the lazy grace of a woman who's just been thoroughly pleasured.
And she takes him into her mouth, licking her juices off his skin, sucking him clean, and Tony's eyes close on their own and he moans, low and deep in his throat. He knows Gibbs is watching, eyes intent on him, and he knows what he must look like, every inch of him spread out on the bed, Abby's mouth wrapped around his cock, his skin damp with sweat.
He can't hold on and he doesn't want to hold on. He wants Gibbs to see him like this, to see him this open, this exposed. Everything he is, all that he has, they're all Gibbs' now and when Tony comes with a gasp and a groan he knows that Abby swallows him down but Gibbs is the one who takes him in.
Abby crawls up his body to kiss him and he tastes both of them in her mouth. Gibbs stands and comes to the bed and kisses Abby, then Tony, his hands in their hair and his lips sure and gentle on theirs. "Beautiful," he murmurs, stroking Abby's hair, Tony's face.
They nuzzle into his hands like kittens, and when Tony kisses Gibbs' palm he tastes salt and calluses. Gibbs laughs, softly, and steps away to undress. He joins them on the bed and they tangle themselves around him, kissing him and caressing his skin. He's not hard, but when Tony reaches down for Gibbs' cock Gibbs shakes his head and catches Tony's hand, bringing it to his lips.
"I wanted to see you," he says softly. "That's enough."
Tony presses a kiss against Gibbs' shoulder. "Did you see what you wanted?" he asks, almost whispers. He knows Gibbs understands his question.
Gibbs traces the line of Tony's face with one gentle finger. "My boy," he says, soft and even and completely, utterly sure. He turns to Abby, matching her smile with one of his own. "My girl."
They sigh in contentment and settle in to sleep, and Tony drifts off with Gibbs' heartbeat under his ear and Gibbs' arm around him. He hears Abby murmur in her sleep and feels her hand on top of his where they rest across Gibbs' chest.
Abby has his heart. Gibbs has his soul.
It's nothing he'd ever have dreamed, and he can't imagine being any other way.