NCIS FIC: Through the Years: Twelve (4 of 4)
Title: Through the Years: Twelve (4 of 4)
Author: Matt
Fandom: NCIS
Genre: Pre-slash, het
Pairing: Gibbs/OFC, Gibbs/DiNozzo
Rating: FRAO (NC-17)
Summary: Continuing AU series about the growing relationship between Gibbs and DiNozzo. This part: Gibbs has a date, sort of.
Warnings: Language, m/f sex, mild violence, drama, angst
Notes: Should be read after, Through the Years: Twelve (3 of 4)
Disclaimer: Most of these characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement intended.
Stupid cloth napkins...
…and they weren't even real linen either, like the ones he always used each time he sat down to eat a meal while visiting his grandfather, just some kind of cheap, slick imitation that wouldn't stay on his lap, no matter how he positioned it or stuffed it or tucked it. It wasn't even white like the ones he was use to using but was some indescribable shade of tan, like sand or seashell or some other dumbass name that really didn’t mean anything but simple, plain, old beige.
And so was the tablecloth. Just the same awful shade of not-quite-white over another equally ugly hue of dark green that poked out at all four corners, so both colors could be seen in some weird, overlapping, artsy pattern. How stupid was that? Why would someone think a table needed two tablecloths on it? If those who ate here were always such slobs that they required two coverings, why didn't the people who owned the restaurant just make the customers eat on the bare, wood surface of the table instead? That sure would save a lot of money from having them all cleaned…unless they just turned them over and used the other sides when they got dirty or put the green one on top and the dirty not-white one on the bottom. Yeah, that's what they probably did.
The boy giggled quietly at the absurdness of the thought and quickly decided the next time he lost his stupid napkin to gravity he was just going to crawl under and try and see if there was a dirty side under those layers. Maybe he’d lift the edges of the covering up just a bit, check to see if he could see any stains or spills of spots. He shifted a bit in his seat and avoided looking at the figure to his left, quickly deciding he wasn’t going to do it anytime too soon. No, it just wasn‘t a very good idea right now, especially not with the way Gunny was looking at him. Tony hazarded a quick peek at the man and bit at the insides of his mouth, trying to keep himself from laughing at the sight. Nope, that sure wasn’t a good look for Gunny…not at all. It actually kind of looked like he was constipated or something or like he was trying to hold in a big, old, smelly fart and didn't want to let it out. Tony swiftly averted his gaze, knowing it was better not look at him anymore, or temptation was just going to get the better of him and he was just going to come right out and ask if the man needed to go to the restroom.
A huffed, puff of amusement escaped from between his pinched lips before he could contain it and he sucked in the next breath, hoping his companions wouldn‘t notice. It wouldn’t be good to draw any more unnecessary attention to himself at this point of the evening.
"Is something funny, Tony?" A soft, feminine voice asked from across the table.
He looked up quickly, eyes instantly taking in the full, red lips and the deeply plunging neckline that showed the tops of some pretty awesome-looking boobs…before remembering he should look a little higher. He squirmed a bit on the thickly cushioned chair and glanced nervously toward the man one more time before attempting a reply to the inquiring woman.
But, unfortunately, a fairly unintelligent, “Uh…”. was all that came.
"Yes, Tony," the man suddenly chimed in, voice deceptively calm, "what's so funny? We'd sure like to hear what you've got to say."
He looked directly into the man's cool, blue eyes this time and knew constipation wasn't the real problem, could see it telegraphed clearly through the firmly pursed lips and the tightly clenched fist resting on the tan tablecloth between them. Tony swallowed thickly and squirmed again, trying to put on as innocent a face as possible. The ’problem’, he realized, probably had something to do with the fact that his attention was continually being distracted and diverted from the red-lipped, big-boobed woman sitting just to his left and refocused, instead, on the antics of the annoying imp sitting just to his right.
"Ah..." the imp offered again, astoundingly lame, "nothing really."
"That's what I thought," the irked man hissed and promptly switched his concentration back to the woman, leaning closer, those intense, blue eyes dropping to the lush cleavage pushing against the tight green of her silk blouse, totally dismissing the mildly infuriating brat and concentrating on keeping his libido on an even keel. "Now, Carolyn, what was that you were saying?"
Tony frowned and watched the adults through slitted eyes, taking in the little, brief touches and the coy smiles they continued to exchange, and decided he really, really, *really* didn't like this stupid restaurant or the terrible food they served or, especially, red-lipped, big-boobed Carolyn. Nope, he didn't like her one little bit at all. She was too pretty and too graceful and too perfect and it made his stomach hurt, just a little, to watch their playful interaction. His narrowed eyes darted between the man and the woman and, when she suddenly extended a well-manicured hand and trailed her painted fingernails over Gunny's cheek, all he wanted to do was reach out and tell her to keep her hands off of *his* Gunny.
Instead, he picked up his fork and deftly, albeit angrily, began twirling the tines into his plate of thin, sauce-covered pasta, watching the long, reddish strands wrap tightly around and through the metal prongs, growing steadily in mass and size, quickly taking on the shape of a slightly lumpy golf ball. Tony grumpily decided he simply wouldn't look at them again, would just ignore what they were doing, and keep eating his dinner...his stupid dinner in this stupid restaurant with the stupid cloth napkins that weren't, at all, like his stupid grandfather's.
Wincing at that last thought and chiding himself mentally, Tony placed one elbow on the table and rested the side of his forehead on his loosely curled fist, making sure his face was hidden from view of the two adults. He didn’t mean to think of his grandfather as ‘stupid’ but this whole evening had been really wearisome and he was just venting his frustration. In the wrong direction. Huffing over his large plate, Tony barely noticed when the golf ball of pasta roughly became the size of a tennis ball. Distracted by his thoughts, he just kept turning the fork...
There was some kind of music playing softly in the background, something he thought he recognized from when he'd been visiting at his grandfather's home, and he turned slightly toward the direction of the sound, searching for the source. Tony didn't see any real musicians anywhere, so he knew it wasn't live music. But it was coming from somewhere close. Huh, that was strange. His eyes tracked to the corner, past the strategically placed tables of customers, and saw a large, potted plant, complete with small, white, twinkling Christmas lights interspersed within the branches. The sound was coming from there, he was sure but...
He choked out a laugh before he could contain it and quickly covered his mouth with his stupid cloth napkin, trying to hold the sound back. The music was actually coming from the tree. From the stupid tree!
Still grinning to himself, he turned back to face forward again, and suddenly realized all conversation between the adults at the table had stopped. Oh, boy...
"Are you going to eat that?" Gunny's voice was now like ice and there was no way to ignore the man or the question.
Tony quickly glanced down to his plate and blinked when he saw the massive blob of sauce-covered pasta, slightly astounded by the sheer size of the messy wad, and wisely stifled another inappropriate snicker. It was the biggest thing he'd seen in a very long time and it looked so funny sitting in the middle of his fine, china plate. There was absolutely no way he'd ever be able to get that huge thing in his mouth, certainly not in one bite, but was actually thinking about doing it for one, flickering moment, certain he sure would like to give it a try. Before he could even consider raising the heavy fork to his lips, a strong hand was immediately on his wrist, clenching tightly and keeping the utensil from rising. He looked at the hand and then quickly back to the man.
"Don't. You. Dare!" The words were clipped and full of barely concealed anger. Jethro was mad. *Really* mad.
"I wasn't going..." Tony started.
"Tony," the grip tightened fractionally on the slim wrist, keeping the boy from denying the obvious.
"Okay," he sighed and confessed, shoulders slumping in defeat, "maybe I was thinking about it."
There was a rough, sudden tug on his captured wrist and the man was rising, pulling the boy with him. "Excuse us a moment, Carolyn.” He said curtly. “Tony and I need to have a little talk."
"Jethro," the woman’s smooth voice sounded like it was going to offer a protest but, as the boy looked hopefully in her direction, he could plainly see the glee reflected in her eyes. She wasn't going to offer any support. No, it was obvious: she wanted him punished!
Gunny stopped as both he and the boy were finally on their feet, standing closely side by side, grip still tight around the slimmer wrist, and looked toward their dinner companion. "No, Carolyn,” he assured stoically, “this needs to be done. *Now*. We'll be back shortly."
"All right, Jethro,” she acquiesced with a breathy sigh. “I'll still be here when you get back."
Tony gave her one last look as he was towed unceremoniously away from the table, barely able to keep up with Gunny's longer stride, and watched in silent amazement as she raised her fingers close to her face and wiggled them in a little 'goodbye' gesture, red lips twisting into a satisfied smirk. A spike of anger abruptly bubbled up and, before he could control it, the boy flashed an impertinent gesture of his own right back, his middle finger pointing to the ceiling and his mouth forming a silent 'fuck you' as he was pulled away. The only bit of satisfaction he got was her brief, shocked, surprised expression. It wasn’t much of a consolation, though, because he knew there would be no satisfaction from Gunny.
Embarrassingly, several patrons watched their departure with interest and witnessed the youth's rude gesture, their shocked expressions quickly turning to gratification when they saw the very determined and very angry look on the man's face. Tony dropped his head in shame and offered no resistance as they traversed through the tangle of tables, past the silently supportive hostess, and out into the cool, evening air, stopping only when they were about ten feet away from the restaurant's fancy, front entrance.
Finally, Gunny released the stinging wrist and took several calming steps away from the boy, keeping his face averted, and looking up into the clear evening sky. He put both hands on his hips, took a deep steadying breath, and turned back, eyes locking with the disobedient boy‘s.
"What, in God's name, do you think you're doing?" He asked in exasperation, keeping his distance but easily transmitting his ire. The anger seemed to radiate off him in waves and, quite frankly, it seemed better for both of them if he didn't get any closer to the boy right now. "I want to know what you think you're proving by acting like this. Do you think it's going to drive Carolyn away? That I'll just give up on this date, take her home, and spend the rest of the night with you at the apartment? Do you?” He asked rhetorically. “Do you think, for one moment, that I won't just turn you right over my knee and spank that immature, insolent attitude right out of you? Do you?"
Tony took a slight step back at the threat, his eyes widening in surprise. His Gunny had never spanked him before.
"I'm...I'm too old for a sp…spanking," he stuttered lamely and, unfortunately, with a measure of scorn.
The low growl was the only warning he got before Gunny was suddenly in his space and turning him roughly with one strong hand placed strategically around his upper arm. The two swift, sharp blows which landed soundly on his ass happened so quickly that, at first, Tony wasn't even sure they'd happened.
Then, the burn began.
The boy blinked rapidly at the stinging sensation, shocked and speechless at the unexpectedly hurtful discipline, eyes wide with the sudden prickling of hot tears, and throat convulsing as the urge to cry began. He huffed and swallowed raggedly, raising his face to his Gunny, trembling lips instinctively opening to ask for forgiveness.
"Do you need more?" Gunny hissed quickly, cutting off the youth’s planned apology and shaking the boy’s arm slightly to stress his point, face still twisted with displeasure. "I've got plenty more where that came from and have no qualms of doling it out right here and now."
"No..no, sir," the contrite boy stuttered, eyes never straying from the cold, angry gaze of the man towering over him.
Jethro nodded and quickly released the arm, bringing his hand up to rest on one slim shoulder, keeping the boy‘s attention focused totally on his face. "This is what's going to happen: we're going to walk back in there, sit down at the table, and you're going to apologize to Carolyn…"
"But Gunny..." Tony attempted to interrupt.
The hand squeezed slightly in warning and the boy shut his mouth. "You are going to apologize to Carolyn.” Jethro continued, “and, then, you are going to eat the rest of your dinner and sit quietly and maturely until we're ready to leave. We will take you back to the apartment where you will immediately get ready for bed..."
There was a quick look of disbelief on the boy's face. He hadn't gone to bed this early since...since...well, Tony couldn't even remember when he'd ever gone to bed this early in his whole life.
"...and you will go to sleep. No TV, no music, no anything. If you persist in acting like a spoiled two-year old, that's exactly how you'll be treated. Understand?"
The young mouth opened and closed silently, wanting to speak words of denial, but better judgment kept any utterance from escaping. He searched his Gunny's face, saw the absolute, immovable resolve painted there, and instantly lost all hope. He dropped his head forward in defeat.
"Yes, sir," he mumbled miserably.
"Come on then."
The man turned and started back toward the door of the restaurant, the boy trailing obediently in his wake. Jethro didn't have to look to know Tony would be right on his heels nor did he doubt the boy would do everything he'd been told but, damn it, his stomach ached terribly now because of the reason of this unnecessary disruption. Tony was jealousy, pure and simple. The revelation had been a surprise and a shock but he never believed the youth would resort to such low-down, under-handed, immature tactics in an effort to sabotage his dinner date.
Once more back at the table, and with Carolyn looking on with an extremely keen expression, Jethro and Tony silently took their seats. There was a brief, meaningful pause before the boy spoke.
"I'm very sorry for the way I acted," he mumbled softly, miserable eyes fixed on the stupid red lips.
The apology was accepted with a silent nod of her head…and a not-so-hidden smug look…and Tony quickly lowered his eyes before he was tempted to start the battle all over again. He didn’t like her self-satisfied expression but knew there was nothing he could do about it now. He shifted in his seat, frowning as the sore spot reminded him of Gunny's ire, and promptly began to struggle with his now-cold pasta, taking a moment to unwind the strands from the fork before attempting to resume eating. He didn't look back up for the rest of the uncomfortable meal and tried not to listen to the adults as they prattled on about what they would be doing for the remainder of the night but certain, carefully worded phrases caught his attention nonetheless. Especially, Carolyn's last one.
"My place is much more intimate, Jethro. We don't have to go dancing."
Tony clamped down on the bile that rose swiftly into his throat and forced it back down. Could the woman be any more obvious? Why didn't she just come out and ask Gunny to fuck her? That's what she wanted, that's what Gunny wanted, that's what the whole fucking world wanted, wasn't it? He carefully put his fork down, wiped his mouth precisely with the hated, stupid napkin, and sat perfectly still, eyes focusing on the pasta still remaining on his plate. There was no more room for any more food in his tight, convulsing stomach and he wasn't even sure he'd be able to keep what he'd eaten down much longer if she just didn‘t shut up. Tony sighed quietly in silent misery. He didn't want to feel this way, he really didn't, but he just couldn't help how he felt. All he could do now was wait.
"You finished, Tony?" Gunny was suddenly asking.
Tony blinked and raised his face, looking directly at the man. "Yes, sir."
Jethro nodded and glanced back to Carolyn. "Okay, I'll be right back. If the waiter comes, tell him we're ready for the check."
Carolyn nodded and watched as Jethro pushed away from the table and rose, waiting until the man finally disappeared in the direction of the restrooms before leaning both arms casually on the edge of the table and peering steadily at the top of the boy's bent head. She smirked at the whipped, bow-beaten attitude. Jethro had certainly done wonders in the short time he'd taken to speak to the boy and, now, she couldn't help but gloat, just a little.
"So," she began quietly, "you and Jethro get everything straightened out?"
There was a slight hesitation but the head remained downcast. "Yes, ma'am."
"Didn't take very long," she pushed a bit further, resting her chin nonchalantly on one, slim hand.
"No, ma'am." The response was whisper-soft, almost fragile sounding.
Carolyn just couldn‘t resist the chance to give back a little of what she‘d been receiving from him during the course of the evening. "He must know exactly what to say to bratty little boys like you."
The slim shoulders tensed but the head stayed down. "Yes, ma'am."
Carolyn smirked at the too-polite, too-controlled wording of the agreement, knowing the boy was really probably ready to explode. She smiled knowingly. Maybe if she just pushed a little more...
"He told me a little about you, you know..." She taunted cruelly.
The boy's head swiftly snapped up, green eyes widening with shock and focusing directly on the smiling woman. His lips parted but he didn't voice the question so evident in his turbulent eyes.
"He said you've got no mother or father and that some distant relative is responsible for taking care of you. I guess that technically makes you an orphan, doesn’t it, Tony? Hmmmm? "
"I...I..." Tony stumbled over words that just wouldn't, couldn’t, form correctly within his suddenly dry mouth, trying to deny her statement, wanting to say something of his absent father, but was simply too shocked to respond. He tried to understand when and why Gunny had told *her* these things about him, not fully comprehending all the implications of her callous remarks. Why would his Gunny do something like that? What had he told her about his past?
"He said you've been through some rough times, mistreated by people," Carolyn said, almost as if reading his mind.
Mistreated? Is that what had happened to him? Tony could only stare at the smirking woman, watching her perfect red lips smile at him without any real humor or friendship, her eyes cold and calculating. He swallowed hard and started to look away.
"You were very rude to me earlier, Tony," her words brought his eyes instantly back to her face. "Maybe you were mistreated because you were rude to others, too. It's not good to be rude, you know.” She sat back and tapped one, long nail on the cloth-covered table. “But, let me tell you something, I don't care what you do or say to me right now because in a few short days, your rude little, annoying ass will be back in New York and I'll still be here…with Jethro."
Tony jerked at her words, young face paling dramatically, and just gave into his misery, letting his head angle downward again. He couldn't look at her anymore, couldn’t stand the thought of having to speak to her again, and didn’t think he could even bear to hear her cruel, spiteful voice any longer. Where was his Gunny? What was taking him so long? If he didn't get away from this table and this woman soon, he was going to...
"We ready yet?" Gunny's welcome voice broke through the hollow din in Tony's fragile mind and the boy anxiously looked up.
"The waiter hasn’t come yet," Carolyn put in quickly, one hand reaching to touch Jethro’s arm, wanting the man to focus totally on her and not on the miserable youth across the table. The little twit wasn’t going to get any more of Jethro’s attention…not if she could help it. She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and smiled in relief. "Oh, here he is now."
The meal was swiftly paid for and the trio quietly left the establishment, Jethro and Carolyn walking shoulder to shoulder with Tony following close behind. The boy didn't say anything else for the remainder of their time together, choosing to huddle against one door in the back seat of the car and blindly watch the rest of the world whiz by. He didn't see Jethro repeatedly glancing in the rearview mirror or the slight frown that formed on the man's worried face. Tony just felt numb and alone. So very alone.
As they pulled up to the curb outside Jethro's apartment complex, Carolyn turned to look at Tony as the car came to a slow stop. "It was very good meeting you, Tony,” she offered the lie with remarkable skill. “I hope you have a good trip home."
Tony looked bleakly up at the woman, then at Jethro, and sighed softly, gaze dropping to the study the spotless area of the floorboard near his feet. He swallowed thickly and managed a whispered, rote response. "Thank you."
Jethro walked the strangely subdued boy to the door and unlocked it quickly, placing his hands on the young shoulders only when they stood just inside the open entry. He frowned as Tony continued to look downward. Something was not right.
"Tony, are you okay?" He asked quietly, real concern evident in the deep voice.
The eyes didn’t lift and Jethro watched the dark head nod. "Yes, sir."
Jethro frowned again, somewhat at a loss of how to continue their conversation. “Are you sure? You know what I did tonight was for your own good, don‘t you?”
It was a rhetorical question but Tony thought he was expected to answer anyway. “Yes, sir.”
"Well, just go right to bed, like I told you," he sighed and cast a quick look back toward the woman in the car.
"Yes, sir," the response was wooden and listless.
"And don't go snooping back around Jessie's."
Tony's head whipped up and the look of utter devastation that blossomed on the young face rocked Jethro slightly back on his heels. "I...I...Gunny, I...wouldn't do that...how can...how can you even think I would do that?"
Jethro reached out and pulled the stunned boy close, wrapping his strong arms around the trembling body. Remarkably, Tony was not hugging him back and this made the man feel even more remorseful. "I'm sorry, Tony. God, I don't know what made me say something like that to you. Of course I don't think you'd go back to see her. I'm sorry,” he offered honestly. “okay?"
Tony stood in the rough embrace, feeling almost like a piece of wood or a hunk of cold granite, like he was trapped in some horrible, unending nightmare with no way out. He felt empty and scared and, sometime soon, he just hoped he’d be able to wake up to tell his Gunny all about what he‘d dreamt. But this wasn't some dream and he wasn't going to wake up and it was all too real to ever forget. And the worse part was his beloved Gunny was actually a physical part of the nightmare now. He pulled slowly out of the embrace and took a hesitant step back, eyes rising only to the middle of the man's wide chest.
"Okay, Gunny," he whispered and took another small step back. "I'll...I'll see you in the morning."
Jethro was visibly torn. He needed to say more to the boy, needed to make him understand he hadn't meant to hurt him, needed to reconnect before he left him alone to go back to Carolyn.
Carolyn. Jethro craned his neck and peered out into the darkness, seeing the woman's beautiful, anxious face framed within the windshield of the car. He sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, making his decision.
"Lock the door after I leave," he instructed softly but with distinct authority.
Tony nodded soundlessly and shifted further away.
"Dead bolt, too."
Another small nod.
"I...I love you, Tony,” Jethro tried to ease the guilt that suddenly rose up within his soul. He eyed the silent boy closely. “You know that, don't you?"
The solemn, green eyes rose slowly and stared for several long moments at Jethro before they floated over to rest on the woman in the car. His eyes fell almost immediately back to the ground and Jethro turned, wondering what the youth had seen on Carolyn's face. Seeing her smile in nothing more than patient support, he looked back to the boy.
"Tony? Did you hear me?"
The only response was the silent nod of the lowered head and Jethro just gave up in frustration. It was not the reaction he'd been hoping for but, for now, it was just going to have to do until they could have a serious sit-down discussion. He took a step closer back toward the open door, resting a hand on the cold, slick knob, and looked carefully at Tony‘s bent head.
"Okay. Sleep good and I'll see you in the morning."
Tony mumbled something that sounded vaguely like ‘goodnight’ and waited patiently until the man vacated the entrance. As the door closed softly behind him, Jethro heard the sound of the lock and the deadbolt being set, and nodded in grim satisfaction. He briefly rested a hand against the sealed panel and, then, turned abruptly away, hurrying back to the car and the woman who waited within. He'd been thinking about this dinner date all day, anticipating the 'dessert' that was going to follow, and had to put all thoughts of Tony to rest, at least for the night. He would have another talk with the boy in the morning and get this whole thing straightened out but, right now, there were other pressing matters that called for his undivided attention.
An hour later and after several glasses of good, rich wine, Jethro Gibbs was finally getting laid. And how. If there was anything Carolyn Anderson was good at it was sex and she was currently employing every trick and skill she'd learned during her years of experimentation to prove just how knowledgeable she really was on the subject. Sitting astride the former-Marine, his cock buried just about as far as he could go, the woman worked her internal muscles in an interesting rhythm that was slowly causing the top of Jethro’s head to fizz, his toes to curl, and his nuts to rise in grateful adoration. It was all gradually building up into a very nice explosion.
"Feel good?" She asked, leaning down to nip playfully at his lower lip.
"Oh, yeah," he agreed, fighting the urge to thrust, laying back and letting her do exactly what she wanted, feeling the clenching around the entire length of his dick.
His hands were resting over his head and directly under the soft pillow, just as she'd instructed earlier, and, at this point, Carolyn was going to get whatever she wanted. He'd already worked her to orgasm with his mouth once and knew she'd probably come again like this, but her special, intimate, little lap dance was playing havoc with his remaining restraint. And, judging by the rocking movement now starting, she was getting closer...much closer…to kicking them both right over the edge.
"Oh, Jethro...God, I love your cock," she rocked harder, head angling slightly back and arching so her breasts were pushing forward.
Jethro couldn’t resist the urge and pulled one hand out from under the pillow, reaching to trace softly up a trim thigh, fingers itching to get back to that luscious, round flesh and the hard, rosy nipples that stuck so temptingly out. Her tits were larger than any handful or mouthful but nothing here, in his opinion, was a waste. Oh, hell no. They were just the right size for fucking and the thought of sandwiching his cock between those soft, plump mounds and shooting all over her face and neck almost made him think about letting go. Right now.
"Carolyn, slow down a minute," he hissed, fighting down the image his fertile mind was painting, feeling his balls pulling up taut.
"Noooo...can't do that," she moaned, hips picking up speed, rising and falling, fucking herself on his slick, heated length. "So good...so good."
Jethro's roaming hand detoured from its original course toward her breasts and wound its way back between her legs, pushing his fingers against the point of their union, feeling the moist, hot glide of their union. Carolyn was so wet right now and was moving so damn fast that he realized, if he didn't get to her clit quick, he was just going to come without her. His deft fingers found her core and she bucked, groaning her pleasure.
"Oh, yeah...right there...come on, Jethro..."
"Fuck," he gritted, lifting his head to look between them, watching himself appear and disappear within her hot cunt. She was on fire and going to incinerate him with her heat. He moved his fingers over her wet folds faster, watching her face, hearing her gasps, catching the scent of their bodies in the throes of passion. It was good. So fucking good…
Her moans were pitching higher, lithe body beginning to lean forward, and Jethro took up the subtle hint, digging his heels into the mattress and lifting her slightly up as he snapped his hips forward. That was her signal. Now, he could move. He thrust up into her body, long, deep, hard thrusts that rocked her up and down, sliding his cock in and out.
"Oh, Jethro...oh, yeah..." she panted, mouth open and eyes closed.
"Carolyn..." he warned, feeling it begin, pumping harder, faster.
"Yes, Jethro...yes..." She gave her permission.
He flopped his head back against the pillow and fought for breath, hips surging, cock jabbing. It felt like the tip of his dick was burning against her insides and, even through the thin protection of the condom, the intense feeling was going to be his undoing. He couldn't stop now, even if he wanted. Too long. It had been *way* too long and, now, he was almost here.
"Carolyn..." he hissed again. "I'm going to come."
The woman began to keen and writhe, body thrashing. He held her hips firmly and all but lifted her up and down, sinking his cock up into her body and fucking her for all his worth. It was good. So wet, so hot, so tight.
Suddenly, he was there, spurting into the tip of the condom, his cock pulsing and pushing as it tried to get its contents deep into the woman's cunt, seeking total completion. Carolyn continued to ride through his orgasm and he shoved a hand back between them, roughly rubbing her swollen clit until she cried out and spasmed around his sensitive dick, her orgasm sending new jolts of pleasure through his body like a live electrical wire. Too much...it was almost too much. He groaned at the sensation, wanting it to go on but needing it to stop. And, still, he could feel her muscles contracting, slowing, settling, and, finally, stopping.
They remained locked together and in position until he softened and eased out, the condom's slight pinch reminding Jethro to take care of business before things got too messy. Carolyn rolled to one side and let the man remove the sleeve of latex, trailing one hand over his sweaty chest, and tweaking a small, flat nipple just to hear him hiss again.
"Minx," he teased as he rolled back toward her, draping one strong arm across her flat stomach, nuzzling into the sweetly scented neck. He felt her arms encircle his back and sighed at the gentle massage her fingers took up. "That feels great."
"Still tense?" She inquired drowsily.
"Not any more," he smiled and pressed a kiss to her throat. "Thanks to you."
Carolyn snuggled a bit closer. "Stay tonight."
"You know I can't,” he whispered his regret. “Tony..."
"Tony is old enough to stay by himself for one night," she interrupted quickly with a clear hint of exasperation. "Besides, I'm not quite finished with you yet."
Jethro eased up until he was propped on one elbow, looking down into the smooth, sated face. "Yeah? What kind of things you still need to do?"
"Well, you'd be surprised," she smirked coyly, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "I still haven't had the chance to suck that big cock like I want to. You know how much I love doing that to you."
He grunted. "Not as much as I love having you do it."
"Debatable," she teased.
He leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed her lazily, involving lips and tongues and teeth. She tasted so good and the temptation was so great.
"I can't," he insisted. "Really."
"You can,” she persisted. “Really."
"Carolyn..."
"Jethro," she mimicked, pushing him back and away until she, now, was bent over him. "You've got to quit worrying so much. That boy can take care of himself for one, little night. He’s just going to be asleep anyway. Besides,“ she pouted, “it just might do him some good. Teach him a lesson."
"Teach him a lesson? What's that suppose to mean?" Jethro frowned at the statement.
"He was very rude to me tonight,” Carolyn huffed, “and I got the distinct impression he didn't like having to share you with me."
Jethro grunted at her astute observation. Tony *had* been extremely rude and had almost made Jethro wish he hadn't been with them for dinner. He should have taken the boy up on his request
to stay home by himself, like he'd originally asked. On the other hand, it was good for Tony to see two adults interacting, conversing, and even flirting a bit. The boy needed to realize he was way too young to be infatuated with Jethro. He needed to see the man was only interested in a mature relationship with another mature person. And, if anything was proven tonight, it was just how immature Tony still was. He was only twelve years old and needed supervision, especially after recent events.
"I'm sorry, Carolyn,” he pressed a kiss to her skin. “He's my responsibility until he goes home and I just don't feel comfortable leaving him in the apartment alone for the complete night. I hope you understand."
The woman sighed and stroked the smooth face, tracing eyebrows and nose and lips. She rolled her hips against his body and smiled demurely.
"Yes, I suppose I do but you don't have to leave right now, do you? I mean,” the hips rolled again, “what are a few more minutes?"
“Well, since you put it like that,“ Jethro smiled and raised his lips to hers, “maybe just a few more minutes would be okay."
When Jethro finally unlocked his front door and stumbled into the entryway, it was well after two o'clock in the morning. The apartment was dark and quiet and the man tiptoed as silently as he could down the hallway and peeked into the guest bedroom, detecting the lump under the blanket that was roughly Tony's shape. He paused, heard the soft, even breathing and continued to his own room, peeling off clothes as he finally made it to his own bed. He grinned as he thought about the night. All in all, it had been pretty good and, except for Tony's behavior during dinner, everything had been actually fairly close to perfect. Good food, good company, and extremely good sex. What more could a person ask for?
Dropping boneless onto the mattress, Jethro wriggled under the sheet and blanket, stretching out completely, and finding that almost-perfect, familiar position within moments. He could smell Carolyn all over his skin and smiled into the darkness, liking the idea of now sharing the scent with his bed. He rubbed his body purposefully over the sheets thinking, maybe, he'd still be able to smell her in the morning...er, later.
He sighed again in blissful relief and began to drift.
"Uh...uh...uh..."
Jethro's eyes popped open. No. It couldn't be.
"Uh...uh...uh..."
No. No. Nonononono!
"Uh...uh...uh..."
That little shit. That conniving, under-handed little shit!
Jethro grit together his teeth and pulled the pillow out from under his head, bringing it over to cover his face in an act of pure frustration. This could not be happening now, not after they'd specifically talked about being discrete.
"Oh...ohh...uhnnn..."
Jethro pulled the pillow away from his face and yelled in the direction of the guest room, anger and a bit of desperation tingling his voice. "Tony! Shut the fuck up now!"
Silence.
Good.
Jethro rearranged the pillow and settled down, pretty certain that would be the end of Tony's little show for the night. He actually hoped the boy had been embarrassed but couldn't quite deny it had probably all just been for Jethro's benefit anyway. A little creative revenge for what had happened earlier at the restaurant, no doubt. Well, it just wasn't going to work. Not tonight. Not *any* night. The boy needed to learn and, if it meant through a firm hand, another spanking could be arranged very easily. Jethro sighed and winced at the thought. He really didn't want to do that again. Ever. There had to be other ways to make Tony understand.
"Oh...ohh...ohhh..."
Jethro turned away from the connecting wall and buried his head again. He was too tired for this crap. Let the boy masturbate. Let him just get it over with and then they'd both get some sleep.
"Uh...oh, Gunny...ughhh..."
The hairs on Jethro's neck suddenly rose and he sat up in the bed, pulling his legs up close and squeezing his eyes tightly together. He clenched his teeth as the unwanted sounds continued, determined not to yell again, to remain quiet, and to ride it out. This was not going to happen again, if he could help it. He would make sure the boy understood how upsetting and invasive this was and find something to convince the youth that there was never going to be anything more to their relationship than what they now shared. Ever.
Six months later, in front of a church full of friends and family, and in the sight of God, Jethro Gibbs and Carolyn Anderson were married. They pledged their love to each other and happily celebrated their union, drinking and toasting to their life together, giddy with the raw emotions of the day. It was obvious to see how in love they were and everyone shared in their cmbined happiness.
Well, almost everyone.
Choking back the bitter taste of heartache, Tony DiNozzo stood behind the long curtains draping a darkened corner of the rented hall and silently cried for his Gunny, watching the happy couple weave and move from well-wisher to well-wisher. And through his tears he realized he would never, ever love anyone else again.
FIN
Next: Through the Years: Fourteen
Author: Matt
Fandom: NCIS
Genre: Pre-slash, het
Pairing: Gibbs/OFC, Gibbs/DiNozzo
Rating: FRAO (NC-17)
Summary: Continuing AU series about the growing relationship between Gibbs and DiNozzo. This part: Gibbs has a date, sort of.
Warnings: Language, m/f sex, mild violence, drama, angst
Notes: Should be read after, Through the Years: Twelve (3 of 4)
Disclaimer: Most of these characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement intended.
Stupid cloth napkins...
…and they weren't even real linen either, like the ones he always used each time he sat down to eat a meal while visiting his grandfather, just some kind of cheap, slick imitation that wouldn't stay on his lap, no matter how he positioned it or stuffed it or tucked it. It wasn't even white like the ones he was use to using but was some indescribable shade of tan, like sand or seashell or some other dumbass name that really didn’t mean anything but simple, plain, old beige.
And so was the tablecloth. Just the same awful shade of not-quite-white over another equally ugly hue of dark green that poked out at all four corners, so both colors could be seen in some weird, overlapping, artsy pattern. How stupid was that? Why would someone think a table needed two tablecloths on it? If those who ate here were always such slobs that they required two coverings, why didn't the people who owned the restaurant just make the customers eat on the bare, wood surface of the table instead? That sure would save a lot of money from having them all cleaned…unless they just turned them over and used the other sides when they got dirty or put the green one on top and the dirty not-white one on the bottom. Yeah, that's what they probably did.
The boy giggled quietly at the absurdness of the thought and quickly decided the next time he lost his stupid napkin to gravity he was just going to crawl under and try and see if there was a dirty side under those layers. Maybe he’d lift the edges of the covering up just a bit, check to see if he could see any stains or spills of spots. He shifted a bit in his seat and avoided looking at the figure to his left, quickly deciding he wasn’t going to do it anytime too soon. No, it just wasn‘t a very good idea right now, especially not with the way Gunny was looking at him. Tony hazarded a quick peek at the man and bit at the insides of his mouth, trying to keep himself from laughing at the sight. Nope, that sure wasn’t a good look for Gunny…not at all. It actually kind of looked like he was constipated or something or like he was trying to hold in a big, old, smelly fart and didn't want to let it out. Tony swiftly averted his gaze, knowing it was better not look at him anymore, or temptation was just going to get the better of him and he was just going to come right out and ask if the man needed to go to the restroom.
A huffed, puff of amusement escaped from between his pinched lips before he could contain it and he sucked in the next breath, hoping his companions wouldn‘t notice. It wouldn’t be good to draw any more unnecessary attention to himself at this point of the evening.
"Is something funny, Tony?" A soft, feminine voice asked from across the table.
He looked up quickly, eyes instantly taking in the full, red lips and the deeply plunging neckline that showed the tops of some pretty awesome-looking boobs…before remembering he should look a little higher. He squirmed a bit on the thickly cushioned chair and glanced nervously toward the man one more time before attempting a reply to the inquiring woman.
But, unfortunately, a fairly unintelligent, “Uh…”. was all that came.
"Yes, Tony," the man suddenly chimed in, voice deceptively calm, "what's so funny? We'd sure like to hear what you've got to say."
He looked directly into the man's cool, blue eyes this time and knew constipation wasn't the real problem, could see it telegraphed clearly through the firmly pursed lips and the tightly clenched fist resting on the tan tablecloth between them. Tony swallowed thickly and squirmed again, trying to put on as innocent a face as possible. The ’problem’, he realized, probably had something to do with the fact that his attention was continually being distracted and diverted from the red-lipped, big-boobed woman sitting just to his left and refocused, instead, on the antics of the annoying imp sitting just to his right.
"Ah..." the imp offered again, astoundingly lame, "nothing really."
"That's what I thought," the irked man hissed and promptly switched his concentration back to the woman, leaning closer, those intense, blue eyes dropping to the lush cleavage pushing against the tight green of her silk blouse, totally dismissing the mildly infuriating brat and concentrating on keeping his libido on an even keel. "Now, Carolyn, what was that you were saying?"
Tony frowned and watched the adults through slitted eyes, taking in the little, brief touches and the coy smiles they continued to exchange, and decided he really, really, *really* didn't like this stupid restaurant or the terrible food they served or, especially, red-lipped, big-boobed Carolyn. Nope, he didn't like her one little bit at all. She was too pretty and too graceful and too perfect and it made his stomach hurt, just a little, to watch their playful interaction. His narrowed eyes darted between the man and the woman and, when she suddenly extended a well-manicured hand and trailed her painted fingernails over Gunny's cheek, all he wanted to do was reach out and tell her to keep her hands off of *his* Gunny.
Instead, he picked up his fork and deftly, albeit angrily, began twirling the tines into his plate of thin, sauce-covered pasta, watching the long, reddish strands wrap tightly around and through the metal prongs, growing steadily in mass and size, quickly taking on the shape of a slightly lumpy golf ball. Tony grumpily decided he simply wouldn't look at them again, would just ignore what they were doing, and keep eating his dinner...his stupid dinner in this stupid restaurant with the stupid cloth napkins that weren't, at all, like his stupid grandfather's.
Wincing at that last thought and chiding himself mentally, Tony placed one elbow on the table and rested the side of his forehead on his loosely curled fist, making sure his face was hidden from view of the two adults. He didn’t mean to think of his grandfather as ‘stupid’ but this whole evening had been really wearisome and he was just venting his frustration. In the wrong direction. Huffing over his large plate, Tony barely noticed when the golf ball of pasta roughly became the size of a tennis ball. Distracted by his thoughts, he just kept turning the fork...
There was some kind of music playing softly in the background, something he thought he recognized from when he'd been visiting at his grandfather's home, and he turned slightly toward the direction of the sound, searching for the source. Tony didn't see any real musicians anywhere, so he knew it wasn't live music. But it was coming from somewhere close. Huh, that was strange. His eyes tracked to the corner, past the strategically placed tables of customers, and saw a large, potted plant, complete with small, white, twinkling Christmas lights interspersed within the branches. The sound was coming from there, he was sure but...
He choked out a laugh before he could contain it and quickly covered his mouth with his stupid cloth napkin, trying to hold the sound back. The music was actually coming from the tree. From the stupid tree!
Still grinning to himself, he turned back to face forward again, and suddenly realized all conversation between the adults at the table had stopped. Oh, boy...
"Are you going to eat that?" Gunny's voice was now like ice and there was no way to ignore the man or the question.
Tony quickly glanced down to his plate and blinked when he saw the massive blob of sauce-covered pasta, slightly astounded by the sheer size of the messy wad, and wisely stifled another inappropriate snicker. It was the biggest thing he'd seen in a very long time and it looked so funny sitting in the middle of his fine, china plate. There was absolutely no way he'd ever be able to get that huge thing in his mouth, certainly not in one bite, but was actually thinking about doing it for one, flickering moment, certain he sure would like to give it a try. Before he could even consider raising the heavy fork to his lips, a strong hand was immediately on his wrist, clenching tightly and keeping the utensil from rising. He looked at the hand and then quickly back to the man.
"Don't. You. Dare!" The words were clipped and full of barely concealed anger. Jethro was mad. *Really* mad.
"I wasn't going..." Tony started.
"Tony," the grip tightened fractionally on the slim wrist, keeping the boy from denying the obvious.
"Okay," he sighed and confessed, shoulders slumping in defeat, "maybe I was thinking about it."
There was a rough, sudden tug on his captured wrist and the man was rising, pulling the boy with him. "Excuse us a moment, Carolyn.” He said curtly. “Tony and I need to have a little talk."
"Jethro," the woman’s smooth voice sounded like it was going to offer a protest but, as the boy looked hopefully in her direction, he could plainly see the glee reflected in her eyes. She wasn't going to offer any support. No, it was obvious: she wanted him punished!
Gunny stopped as both he and the boy were finally on their feet, standing closely side by side, grip still tight around the slimmer wrist, and looked toward their dinner companion. "No, Carolyn,” he assured stoically, “this needs to be done. *Now*. We'll be back shortly."
"All right, Jethro,” she acquiesced with a breathy sigh. “I'll still be here when you get back."
Tony gave her one last look as he was towed unceremoniously away from the table, barely able to keep up with Gunny's longer stride, and watched in silent amazement as she raised her fingers close to her face and wiggled them in a little 'goodbye' gesture, red lips twisting into a satisfied smirk. A spike of anger abruptly bubbled up and, before he could control it, the boy flashed an impertinent gesture of his own right back, his middle finger pointing to the ceiling and his mouth forming a silent 'fuck you' as he was pulled away. The only bit of satisfaction he got was her brief, shocked, surprised expression. It wasn’t much of a consolation, though, because he knew there would be no satisfaction from Gunny.
Embarrassingly, several patrons watched their departure with interest and witnessed the youth's rude gesture, their shocked expressions quickly turning to gratification when they saw the very determined and very angry look on the man's face. Tony dropped his head in shame and offered no resistance as they traversed through the tangle of tables, past the silently supportive hostess, and out into the cool, evening air, stopping only when they were about ten feet away from the restaurant's fancy, front entrance.
Finally, Gunny released the stinging wrist and took several calming steps away from the boy, keeping his face averted, and looking up into the clear evening sky. He put both hands on his hips, took a deep steadying breath, and turned back, eyes locking with the disobedient boy‘s.
"What, in God's name, do you think you're doing?" He asked in exasperation, keeping his distance but easily transmitting his ire. The anger seemed to radiate off him in waves and, quite frankly, it seemed better for both of them if he didn't get any closer to the boy right now. "I want to know what you think you're proving by acting like this. Do you think it's going to drive Carolyn away? That I'll just give up on this date, take her home, and spend the rest of the night with you at the apartment? Do you?” He asked rhetorically. “Do you think, for one moment, that I won't just turn you right over my knee and spank that immature, insolent attitude right out of you? Do you?"
Tony took a slight step back at the threat, his eyes widening in surprise. His Gunny had never spanked him before.
"I'm...I'm too old for a sp…spanking," he stuttered lamely and, unfortunately, with a measure of scorn.
The low growl was the only warning he got before Gunny was suddenly in his space and turning him roughly with one strong hand placed strategically around his upper arm. The two swift, sharp blows which landed soundly on his ass happened so quickly that, at first, Tony wasn't even sure they'd happened.
Then, the burn began.
The boy blinked rapidly at the stinging sensation, shocked and speechless at the unexpectedly hurtful discipline, eyes wide with the sudden prickling of hot tears, and throat convulsing as the urge to cry began. He huffed and swallowed raggedly, raising his face to his Gunny, trembling lips instinctively opening to ask for forgiveness.
"Do you need more?" Gunny hissed quickly, cutting off the youth’s planned apology and shaking the boy’s arm slightly to stress his point, face still twisted with displeasure. "I've got plenty more where that came from and have no qualms of doling it out right here and now."
"No..no, sir," the contrite boy stuttered, eyes never straying from the cold, angry gaze of the man towering over him.
Jethro nodded and quickly released the arm, bringing his hand up to rest on one slim shoulder, keeping the boy‘s attention focused totally on his face. "This is what's going to happen: we're going to walk back in there, sit down at the table, and you're going to apologize to Carolyn…"
"But Gunny..." Tony attempted to interrupt.
The hand squeezed slightly in warning and the boy shut his mouth. "You are going to apologize to Carolyn.” Jethro continued, “and, then, you are going to eat the rest of your dinner and sit quietly and maturely until we're ready to leave. We will take you back to the apartment where you will immediately get ready for bed..."
There was a quick look of disbelief on the boy's face. He hadn't gone to bed this early since...since...well, Tony couldn't even remember when he'd ever gone to bed this early in his whole life.
"...and you will go to sleep. No TV, no music, no anything. If you persist in acting like a spoiled two-year old, that's exactly how you'll be treated. Understand?"
The young mouth opened and closed silently, wanting to speak words of denial, but better judgment kept any utterance from escaping. He searched his Gunny's face, saw the absolute, immovable resolve painted there, and instantly lost all hope. He dropped his head forward in defeat.
"Yes, sir," he mumbled miserably.
"Come on then."
The man turned and started back toward the door of the restaurant, the boy trailing obediently in his wake. Jethro didn't have to look to know Tony would be right on his heels nor did he doubt the boy would do everything he'd been told but, damn it, his stomach ached terribly now because of the reason of this unnecessary disruption. Tony was jealousy, pure and simple. The revelation had been a surprise and a shock but he never believed the youth would resort to such low-down, under-handed, immature tactics in an effort to sabotage his dinner date.
Once more back at the table, and with Carolyn looking on with an extremely keen expression, Jethro and Tony silently took their seats. There was a brief, meaningful pause before the boy spoke.
"I'm very sorry for the way I acted," he mumbled softly, miserable eyes fixed on the stupid red lips.
The apology was accepted with a silent nod of her head…and a not-so-hidden smug look…and Tony quickly lowered his eyes before he was tempted to start the battle all over again. He didn’t like her self-satisfied expression but knew there was nothing he could do about it now. He shifted in his seat, frowning as the sore spot reminded him of Gunny's ire, and promptly began to struggle with his now-cold pasta, taking a moment to unwind the strands from the fork before attempting to resume eating. He didn't look back up for the rest of the uncomfortable meal and tried not to listen to the adults as they prattled on about what they would be doing for the remainder of the night but certain, carefully worded phrases caught his attention nonetheless. Especially, Carolyn's last one.
"My place is much more intimate, Jethro. We don't have to go dancing."
Tony clamped down on the bile that rose swiftly into his throat and forced it back down. Could the woman be any more obvious? Why didn't she just come out and ask Gunny to fuck her? That's what she wanted, that's what Gunny wanted, that's what the whole fucking world wanted, wasn't it? He carefully put his fork down, wiped his mouth precisely with the hated, stupid napkin, and sat perfectly still, eyes focusing on the pasta still remaining on his plate. There was no more room for any more food in his tight, convulsing stomach and he wasn't even sure he'd be able to keep what he'd eaten down much longer if she just didn‘t shut up. Tony sighed quietly in silent misery. He didn't want to feel this way, he really didn't, but he just couldn't help how he felt. All he could do now was wait.
"You finished, Tony?" Gunny was suddenly asking.
Tony blinked and raised his face, looking directly at the man. "Yes, sir."
Jethro nodded and glanced back to Carolyn. "Okay, I'll be right back. If the waiter comes, tell him we're ready for the check."
Carolyn nodded and watched as Jethro pushed away from the table and rose, waiting until the man finally disappeared in the direction of the restrooms before leaning both arms casually on the edge of the table and peering steadily at the top of the boy's bent head. She smirked at the whipped, bow-beaten attitude. Jethro had certainly done wonders in the short time he'd taken to speak to the boy and, now, she couldn't help but gloat, just a little.
"So," she began quietly, "you and Jethro get everything straightened out?"
There was a slight hesitation but the head remained downcast. "Yes, ma'am."
"Didn't take very long," she pushed a bit further, resting her chin nonchalantly on one, slim hand.
"No, ma'am." The response was whisper-soft, almost fragile sounding.
Carolyn just couldn‘t resist the chance to give back a little of what she‘d been receiving from him during the course of the evening. "He must know exactly what to say to bratty little boys like you."
The slim shoulders tensed but the head stayed down. "Yes, ma'am."
Carolyn smirked at the too-polite, too-controlled wording of the agreement, knowing the boy was really probably ready to explode. She smiled knowingly. Maybe if she just pushed a little more...
"He told me a little about you, you know..." She taunted cruelly.
The boy's head swiftly snapped up, green eyes widening with shock and focusing directly on the smiling woman. His lips parted but he didn't voice the question so evident in his turbulent eyes.
"He said you've got no mother or father and that some distant relative is responsible for taking care of you. I guess that technically makes you an orphan, doesn’t it, Tony? Hmmmm? "
"I...I..." Tony stumbled over words that just wouldn't, couldn’t, form correctly within his suddenly dry mouth, trying to deny her statement, wanting to say something of his absent father, but was simply too shocked to respond. He tried to understand when and why Gunny had told *her* these things about him, not fully comprehending all the implications of her callous remarks. Why would his Gunny do something like that? What had he told her about his past?
"He said you've been through some rough times, mistreated by people," Carolyn said, almost as if reading his mind.
Mistreated? Is that what had happened to him? Tony could only stare at the smirking woman, watching her perfect red lips smile at him without any real humor or friendship, her eyes cold and calculating. He swallowed hard and started to look away.
"You were very rude to me earlier, Tony," her words brought his eyes instantly back to her face. "Maybe you were mistreated because you were rude to others, too. It's not good to be rude, you know.” She sat back and tapped one, long nail on the cloth-covered table. “But, let me tell you something, I don't care what you do or say to me right now because in a few short days, your rude little, annoying ass will be back in New York and I'll still be here…with Jethro."
Tony jerked at her words, young face paling dramatically, and just gave into his misery, letting his head angle downward again. He couldn't look at her anymore, couldn’t stand the thought of having to speak to her again, and didn’t think he could even bear to hear her cruel, spiteful voice any longer. Where was his Gunny? What was taking him so long? If he didn't get away from this table and this woman soon, he was going to...
"We ready yet?" Gunny's welcome voice broke through the hollow din in Tony's fragile mind and the boy anxiously looked up.
"The waiter hasn’t come yet," Carolyn put in quickly, one hand reaching to touch Jethro’s arm, wanting the man to focus totally on her and not on the miserable youth across the table. The little twit wasn’t going to get any more of Jethro’s attention…not if she could help it. She saw a movement out of the corner of her eye and smiled in relief. "Oh, here he is now."
The meal was swiftly paid for and the trio quietly left the establishment, Jethro and Carolyn walking shoulder to shoulder with Tony following close behind. The boy didn't say anything else for the remainder of their time together, choosing to huddle against one door in the back seat of the car and blindly watch the rest of the world whiz by. He didn't see Jethro repeatedly glancing in the rearview mirror or the slight frown that formed on the man's worried face. Tony just felt numb and alone. So very alone.
As they pulled up to the curb outside Jethro's apartment complex, Carolyn turned to look at Tony as the car came to a slow stop. "It was very good meeting you, Tony,” she offered the lie with remarkable skill. “I hope you have a good trip home."
Tony looked bleakly up at the woman, then at Jethro, and sighed softly, gaze dropping to the study the spotless area of the floorboard near his feet. He swallowed thickly and managed a whispered, rote response. "Thank you."
Jethro walked the strangely subdued boy to the door and unlocked it quickly, placing his hands on the young shoulders only when they stood just inside the open entry. He frowned as Tony continued to look downward. Something was not right.
"Tony, are you okay?" He asked quietly, real concern evident in the deep voice.
The eyes didn’t lift and Jethro watched the dark head nod. "Yes, sir."
Jethro frowned again, somewhat at a loss of how to continue their conversation. “Are you sure? You know what I did tonight was for your own good, don‘t you?”
It was a rhetorical question but Tony thought he was expected to answer anyway. “Yes, sir.”
"Well, just go right to bed, like I told you," he sighed and cast a quick look back toward the woman in the car.
"Yes, sir," the response was wooden and listless.
"And don't go snooping back around Jessie's."
Tony's head whipped up and the look of utter devastation that blossomed on the young face rocked Jethro slightly back on his heels. "I...I...Gunny, I...wouldn't do that...how can...how can you even think I would do that?"
Jethro reached out and pulled the stunned boy close, wrapping his strong arms around the trembling body. Remarkably, Tony was not hugging him back and this made the man feel even more remorseful. "I'm sorry, Tony. God, I don't know what made me say something like that to you. Of course I don't think you'd go back to see her. I'm sorry,” he offered honestly. “okay?"
Tony stood in the rough embrace, feeling almost like a piece of wood or a hunk of cold granite, like he was trapped in some horrible, unending nightmare with no way out. He felt empty and scared and, sometime soon, he just hoped he’d be able to wake up to tell his Gunny all about what he‘d dreamt. But this wasn't some dream and he wasn't going to wake up and it was all too real to ever forget. And the worse part was his beloved Gunny was actually a physical part of the nightmare now. He pulled slowly out of the embrace and took a hesitant step back, eyes rising only to the middle of the man's wide chest.
"Okay, Gunny," he whispered and took another small step back. "I'll...I'll see you in the morning."
Jethro was visibly torn. He needed to say more to the boy, needed to make him understand he hadn't meant to hurt him, needed to reconnect before he left him alone to go back to Carolyn.
Carolyn. Jethro craned his neck and peered out into the darkness, seeing the woman's beautiful, anxious face framed within the windshield of the car. He sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, making his decision.
"Lock the door after I leave," he instructed softly but with distinct authority.
Tony nodded soundlessly and shifted further away.
"Dead bolt, too."
Another small nod.
"I...I love you, Tony,” Jethro tried to ease the guilt that suddenly rose up within his soul. He eyed the silent boy closely. “You know that, don't you?"
The solemn, green eyes rose slowly and stared for several long moments at Jethro before they floated over to rest on the woman in the car. His eyes fell almost immediately back to the ground and Jethro turned, wondering what the youth had seen on Carolyn's face. Seeing her smile in nothing more than patient support, he looked back to the boy.
"Tony? Did you hear me?"
The only response was the silent nod of the lowered head and Jethro just gave up in frustration. It was not the reaction he'd been hoping for but, for now, it was just going to have to do until they could have a serious sit-down discussion. He took a step closer back toward the open door, resting a hand on the cold, slick knob, and looked carefully at Tony‘s bent head.
"Okay. Sleep good and I'll see you in the morning."
Tony mumbled something that sounded vaguely like ‘goodnight’ and waited patiently until the man vacated the entrance. As the door closed softly behind him, Jethro heard the sound of the lock and the deadbolt being set, and nodded in grim satisfaction. He briefly rested a hand against the sealed panel and, then, turned abruptly away, hurrying back to the car and the woman who waited within. He'd been thinking about this dinner date all day, anticipating the 'dessert' that was going to follow, and had to put all thoughts of Tony to rest, at least for the night. He would have another talk with the boy in the morning and get this whole thing straightened out but, right now, there were other pressing matters that called for his undivided attention.
An hour later and after several glasses of good, rich wine, Jethro Gibbs was finally getting laid. And how. If there was anything Carolyn Anderson was good at it was sex and she was currently employing every trick and skill she'd learned during her years of experimentation to prove just how knowledgeable she really was on the subject. Sitting astride the former-Marine, his cock buried just about as far as he could go, the woman worked her internal muscles in an interesting rhythm that was slowly causing the top of Jethro’s head to fizz, his toes to curl, and his nuts to rise in grateful adoration. It was all gradually building up into a very nice explosion.
"Feel good?" She asked, leaning down to nip playfully at his lower lip.
"Oh, yeah," he agreed, fighting the urge to thrust, laying back and letting her do exactly what she wanted, feeling the clenching around the entire length of his dick.
His hands were resting over his head and directly under the soft pillow, just as she'd instructed earlier, and, at this point, Carolyn was going to get whatever she wanted. He'd already worked her to orgasm with his mouth once and knew she'd probably come again like this, but her special, intimate, little lap dance was playing havoc with his remaining restraint. And, judging by the rocking movement now starting, she was getting closer...much closer…to kicking them both right over the edge.
"Oh, Jethro...God, I love your cock," she rocked harder, head angling slightly back and arching so her breasts were pushing forward.
Jethro couldn’t resist the urge and pulled one hand out from under the pillow, reaching to trace softly up a trim thigh, fingers itching to get back to that luscious, round flesh and the hard, rosy nipples that stuck so temptingly out. Her tits were larger than any handful or mouthful but nothing here, in his opinion, was a waste. Oh, hell no. They were just the right size for fucking and the thought of sandwiching his cock between those soft, plump mounds and shooting all over her face and neck almost made him think about letting go. Right now.
"Carolyn, slow down a minute," he hissed, fighting down the image his fertile mind was painting, feeling his balls pulling up taut.
"Noooo...can't do that," she moaned, hips picking up speed, rising and falling, fucking herself on his slick, heated length. "So good...so good."
Jethro's roaming hand detoured from its original course toward her breasts and wound its way back between her legs, pushing his fingers against the point of their union, feeling the moist, hot glide of their union. Carolyn was so wet right now and was moving so damn fast that he realized, if he didn't get to her clit quick, he was just going to come without her. His deft fingers found her core and she bucked, groaning her pleasure.
"Oh, yeah...right there...come on, Jethro..."
"Fuck," he gritted, lifting his head to look between them, watching himself appear and disappear within her hot cunt. She was on fire and going to incinerate him with her heat. He moved his fingers over her wet folds faster, watching her face, hearing her gasps, catching the scent of their bodies in the throes of passion. It was good. So fucking good…
Her moans were pitching higher, lithe body beginning to lean forward, and Jethro took up the subtle hint, digging his heels into the mattress and lifting her slightly up as he snapped his hips forward. That was her signal. Now, he could move. He thrust up into her body, long, deep, hard thrusts that rocked her up and down, sliding his cock in and out.
"Oh, Jethro...oh, yeah..." she panted, mouth open and eyes closed.
"Carolyn..." he warned, feeling it begin, pumping harder, faster.
"Yes, Jethro...yes..." She gave her permission.
He flopped his head back against the pillow and fought for breath, hips surging, cock jabbing. It felt like the tip of his dick was burning against her insides and, even through the thin protection of the condom, the intense feeling was going to be his undoing. He couldn't stop now, even if he wanted. Too long. It had been *way* too long and, now, he was almost here.
"Carolyn..." he hissed again. "I'm going to come."
The woman began to keen and writhe, body thrashing. He held her hips firmly and all but lifted her up and down, sinking his cock up into her body and fucking her for all his worth. It was good. So wet, so hot, so tight.
Suddenly, he was there, spurting into the tip of the condom, his cock pulsing and pushing as it tried to get its contents deep into the woman's cunt, seeking total completion. Carolyn continued to ride through his orgasm and he shoved a hand back between them, roughly rubbing her swollen clit until she cried out and spasmed around his sensitive dick, her orgasm sending new jolts of pleasure through his body like a live electrical wire. Too much...it was almost too much. He groaned at the sensation, wanting it to go on but needing it to stop. And, still, he could feel her muscles contracting, slowing, settling, and, finally, stopping.
They remained locked together and in position until he softened and eased out, the condom's slight pinch reminding Jethro to take care of business before things got too messy. Carolyn rolled to one side and let the man remove the sleeve of latex, trailing one hand over his sweaty chest, and tweaking a small, flat nipple just to hear him hiss again.
"Minx," he teased as he rolled back toward her, draping one strong arm across her flat stomach, nuzzling into the sweetly scented neck. He felt her arms encircle his back and sighed at the gentle massage her fingers took up. "That feels great."
"Still tense?" She inquired drowsily.
"Not any more," he smiled and pressed a kiss to her throat. "Thanks to you."
Carolyn snuggled a bit closer. "Stay tonight."
"You know I can't,” he whispered his regret. “Tony..."
"Tony is old enough to stay by himself for one night," she interrupted quickly with a clear hint of exasperation. "Besides, I'm not quite finished with you yet."
Jethro eased up until he was propped on one elbow, looking down into the smooth, sated face. "Yeah? What kind of things you still need to do?"
"Well, you'd be surprised," she smirked coyly, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow. "I still haven't had the chance to suck that big cock like I want to. You know how much I love doing that to you."
He grunted. "Not as much as I love having you do it."
"Debatable," she teased.
He leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and kissed her lazily, involving lips and tongues and teeth. She tasted so good and the temptation was so great.
"I can't," he insisted. "Really."
"You can,” she persisted. “Really."
"Carolyn..."
"Jethro," she mimicked, pushing him back and away until she, now, was bent over him. "You've got to quit worrying so much. That boy can take care of himself for one, little night. He’s just going to be asleep anyway. Besides,“ she pouted, “it just might do him some good. Teach him a lesson."
"Teach him a lesson? What's that suppose to mean?" Jethro frowned at the statement.
"He was very rude to me tonight,” Carolyn huffed, “and I got the distinct impression he didn't like having to share you with me."
Jethro grunted at her astute observation. Tony *had* been extremely rude and had almost made Jethro wish he hadn't been with them for dinner. He should have taken the boy up on his request
to stay home by himself, like he'd originally asked. On the other hand, it was good for Tony to see two adults interacting, conversing, and even flirting a bit. The boy needed to realize he was way too young to be infatuated with Jethro. He needed to see the man was only interested in a mature relationship with another mature person. And, if anything was proven tonight, it was just how immature Tony still was. He was only twelve years old and needed supervision, especially after recent events.
"I'm sorry, Carolyn,” he pressed a kiss to her skin. “He's my responsibility until he goes home and I just don't feel comfortable leaving him in the apartment alone for the complete night. I hope you understand."
The woman sighed and stroked the smooth face, tracing eyebrows and nose and lips. She rolled her hips against his body and smiled demurely.
"Yes, I suppose I do but you don't have to leave right now, do you? I mean,” the hips rolled again, “what are a few more minutes?"
“Well, since you put it like that,“ Jethro smiled and raised his lips to hers, “maybe just a few more minutes would be okay."
When Jethro finally unlocked his front door and stumbled into the entryway, it was well after two o'clock in the morning. The apartment was dark and quiet and the man tiptoed as silently as he could down the hallway and peeked into the guest bedroom, detecting the lump under the blanket that was roughly Tony's shape. He paused, heard the soft, even breathing and continued to his own room, peeling off clothes as he finally made it to his own bed. He grinned as he thought about the night. All in all, it had been pretty good and, except for Tony's behavior during dinner, everything had been actually fairly close to perfect. Good food, good company, and extremely good sex. What more could a person ask for?
Dropping boneless onto the mattress, Jethro wriggled under the sheet and blanket, stretching out completely, and finding that almost-perfect, familiar position within moments. He could smell Carolyn all over his skin and smiled into the darkness, liking the idea of now sharing the scent with his bed. He rubbed his body purposefully over the sheets thinking, maybe, he'd still be able to smell her in the morning...er, later.
He sighed again in blissful relief and began to drift.
"Uh...uh...uh..."
Jethro's eyes popped open. No. It couldn't be.
"Uh...uh...uh..."
No. No. Nonononono!
"Uh...uh...uh..."
That little shit. That conniving, under-handed little shit!
Jethro grit together his teeth and pulled the pillow out from under his head, bringing it over to cover his face in an act of pure frustration. This could not be happening now, not after they'd specifically talked about being discrete.
"Oh...ohh...uhnnn..."
Jethro pulled the pillow away from his face and yelled in the direction of the guest room, anger and a bit of desperation tingling his voice. "Tony! Shut the fuck up now!"
Silence.
Good.
Jethro rearranged the pillow and settled down, pretty certain that would be the end of Tony's little show for the night. He actually hoped the boy had been embarrassed but couldn't quite deny it had probably all just been for Jethro's benefit anyway. A little creative revenge for what had happened earlier at the restaurant, no doubt. Well, it just wasn't going to work. Not tonight. Not *any* night. The boy needed to learn and, if it meant through a firm hand, another spanking could be arranged very easily. Jethro sighed and winced at the thought. He really didn't want to do that again. Ever. There had to be other ways to make Tony understand.
"Oh...ohh...ohhh..."
Jethro turned away from the connecting wall and buried his head again. He was too tired for this crap. Let the boy masturbate. Let him just get it over with and then they'd both get some sleep.
"Uh...oh, Gunny...ughhh..."
The hairs on Jethro's neck suddenly rose and he sat up in the bed, pulling his legs up close and squeezing his eyes tightly together. He clenched his teeth as the unwanted sounds continued, determined not to yell again, to remain quiet, and to ride it out. This was not going to happen again, if he could help it. He would make sure the boy understood how upsetting and invasive this was and find something to convince the youth that there was never going to be anything more to their relationship than what they now shared. Ever.
Six months later, in front of a church full of friends and family, and in the sight of God, Jethro Gibbs and Carolyn Anderson were married. They pledged their love to each other and happily celebrated their union, drinking and toasting to their life together, giddy with the raw emotions of the day. It was obvious to see how in love they were and everyone shared in their cmbined happiness.
Well, almost everyone.
Choking back the bitter taste of heartache, Tony DiNozzo stood behind the long curtains draping a darkened corner of the rented hall and silently cried for his Gunny, watching the happy couple weave and move from well-wisher to well-wisher. And through his tears he realized he would never, ever love anyone else again.
FIN
Next: Through the Years: Fourteen