Home: Imagination
Another piece for the prompt table I posted HERE. Check it out. I'm still accepting suggestions.
The prompt from brilliantomega was Imagination, with Gibbs from NCIS, and bonus points if I added Tony. I kind of did. Does it count? It also ended up as a prequel to my Home series. Enjoy.
Title: Imagination
Series: Home
Author: triskellion
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1266
Spoilers: Kill Ari
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: They're not mine, pretty as I find them. Go to the producers if you want to talk money.
Summary: AU but following canon events: After the funeral, what drove Gibbs over to visit Tony?
Gibbs stepped into his home with a sense of relief. It was good to be home, even if he had to rip away the crime scene tape on the door to get there. A responsible side of him pointed out he probably should get a hotel for a day or two, but the only place that was important to the investigation was the basement, and the investigation was going to result in what he wanted it to result in. So, he'd stay out of the basement for a few days, hurry everyone to spit out the reports quickly, and get back to his life without the shadow of Ari hanging over it. For the first time in a year and a half.
And not a moment too soon. Actually, several days too late for Kate. Special Agent Catlin Todd, who's funeral he had just attended in Indiana.
Pushing that thought aside, Gibbs stumbled up the stairs to his room. He'd screwed up not shooting Ari in the heart last year, and now he would willingly give up his career to have saved Kate's life, but at the time it had seemed the right thing to do. He had to focus on that and do his best to move on.
First step, he kicked off his shoes and took off his suit, carefully hanging the latter back on its hanger and putting both in their places in the closet. The rest of his clothes went into the hamper and then he was ready for step two, a shower. It was time to wash away the smell of grief, the taint of blood that had followed him around since that day on the roof, the anger that had filled him since that bastard hurt one of his own right under his own nose.
Trying to think of something other than Kate or Ari as the water warmed up wasn't entirely successful. But those thoughts lead to Ziva, easily dismissed with well wishes for her trip back to Israel, and Tony. Tony was not so easily dismissed. Gibbs would never forget how his senior field agent looked in the isolation ward at Bethesda, all but dying of the pneumonic plague.
The man had barely begun to recover from that, for he certainly wasn't really recovered when he came back to work, when Ari had almost blown up the team, killed Kate, stalked the women around him, and died. Gibbs figured it was a serious miracle that Tony hadn't become sick again after the stress of the last few days. It was a good thing that Ducky had insisted on driving the younger man home as soon as their plane arrived in Washington. It saved Gibbs from doing the same and potentially doing something stupid.
That thought definitely didn't lead in a productive direction. Or rather, it led in a direction that Gibbs had been avoiding longer than he'd been angry at Ari.
But he considered that it wasn't a direction he let his mind go often, and a little fantasy once in a while wasn't going to drive him mad. He sublimated fine at work, limiting himself to the occasional unnecessary slap to the head when the urge to touch just got too strong.
The problem was, he wanted Tony, and not just as his senior field agent. He wanted Tony in his life, in his bed. There was something about the younger man that drove Gibbs to distraction in the rare moments when he let himself think about it. It was the look in Tony's eyes, the way he watched Gibbs in the field and in the office, the eagerness to please, and the urgency with which he obeyed orders. It reminded Gibbs of some of the boys he'd known in the Corps, all desperate for a good alpha.
However, Gibbs was out of that business, he reminded himself sharply. He hadn't led a pack since Shannon died, though he was still in occasional contact with some of those he'd led back in the Corps. He owed Gregory Peck a call, come to think of it.
As much as he wanted it, Tony wasn't another shifter desperate to find his way. Gibbs knew he was just projecting his desires on the skirt chasing agent.
He could dream, however, just for a minute or two.
Giving in, Gibbs closed his eyes, leaning back against the tile of the shower wall, and conjured up an image of Tony in his mind's eye. Green eyes and mobile lips were topped with spikes of brunet hair. Gibbs admitted, if only to himself, that he liked the shorter look on Tony. He didn't have to make up the rest of the image either. Between glimpses in the locker rooms and the iguana scare in Cuba Gibbs knew exactly what his second looked like under his clothes, from furry state of his chest to the way his cock looked at half mast in the early morning light.
Giving himself a sharp mental shake, Gibbs chastised himself for thinking of Tony in pack terms. That was a thing from his past. Tony was his senior field agent, nothing more.
Going back to his imagining, Gibbs saw Tony grin his smug little grin, his eyes almost twinkling in the dim light of the shower stall. Walking forward, he ran his hands over Gibbs' chest, tweaking nipples and generally caressing, Gibbs' hands following the same trails he imagined for Tony.
He wanted a kiss, the feeling of warm lips on his, the dance to two wet tongues, but that was not something he could replicate alone. To guess felt improper, so he avoided the thought in these rare moments when he let his imagination run otherwise wild.
Instead, he imagined Tony dropping to his knees under the stream of hot water, his mouth finally silenced as it wrapped around Gibbs' cock. Gibbs knew that the warmth was really the water, the suction the pull of his own right hand, but the image in his mind looked so perfect, so right. He didn't fight the thrill of lust that surged through him, and for a moment he let himself acknowledge just how much he wanted this moment in truth.
Letting his head drop, his eyes still closed, Gibbs saw his mental Tony grab his own cock, the vibration of his moan of pleasure driving Gibbs wild. Wound up by the image and the stress of the last few days, it didn't take Gibbs long to come, letting out a rare gasp with the pressure of his release.
It wasn't until the hand he reached down, trying to rest it on Tony's shoulder, fell through empty air that he remembered he was actually alone. For a moment, the image had seemed all too real, and Gibbs felt a pang of grief at its loss.
Disgusted with himself, Gibbs quickly finished his shower, washing thoroughly and ensuring the water rinsed away the mess he had made earlier.
But as he stepped out of the shower, Gibbs felt an urge to check on Tony. He needed to see him, smell him touch him if possible, reassure himself that the younger man really had survived the plague and Ari. It was foolish, fanciful, unrealistic, and yet ...
It had been a rough couple of days. Why shouldn't a team leader check up on senior field agent, maybe share a beer as they grieved for a lost team mate? It didn't have to be anything more than that.
Decision made, Gibbs quickly dressed and headed out the door, before he changed his mind.
The prompt from brilliantomega was Imagination, with Gibbs from NCIS, and bonus points if I added Tony. I kind of did. Does it count? It also ended up as a prequel to my Home series. Enjoy.
Title: Imagination
Series: Home
Author: triskellion
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1266
Spoilers: Kill Ari
Warnings: Slash
Disclaimer: They're not mine, pretty as I find them. Go to the producers if you want to talk money.
Summary: AU but following canon events: After the funeral, what drove Gibbs over to visit Tony?
Gibbs stepped into his home with a sense of relief. It was good to be home, even if he had to rip away the crime scene tape on the door to get there. A responsible side of him pointed out he probably should get a hotel for a day or two, but the only place that was important to the investigation was the basement, and the investigation was going to result in what he wanted it to result in. So, he'd stay out of the basement for a few days, hurry everyone to spit out the reports quickly, and get back to his life without the shadow of Ari hanging over it. For the first time in a year and a half.
And not a moment too soon. Actually, several days too late for Kate. Special Agent Catlin Todd, who's funeral he had just attended in Indiana.
Pushing that thought aside, Gibbs stumbled up the stairs to his room. He'd screwed up not shooting Ari in the heart last year, and now he would willingly give up his career to have saved Kate's life, but at the time it had seemed the right thing to do. He had to focus on that and do his best to move on.
First step, he kicked off his shoes and took off his suit, carefully hanging the latter back on its hanger and putting both in their places in the closet. The rest of his clothes went into the hamper and then he was ready for step two, a shower. It was time to wash away the smell of grief, the taint of blood that had followed him around since that day on the roof, the anger that had filled him since that bastard hurt one of his own right under his own nose.
Trying to think of something other than Kate or Ari as the water warmed up wasn't entirely successful. But those thoughts lead to Ziva, easily dismissed with well wishes for her trip back to Israel, and Tony. Tony was not so easily dismissed. Gibbs would never forget how his senior field agent looked in the isolation ward at Bethesda, all but dying of the pneumonic plague.
The man had barely begun to recover from that, for he certainly wasn't really recovered when he came back to work, when Ari had almost blown up the team, killed Kate, stalked the women around him, and died. Gibbs figured it was a serious miracle that Tony hadn't become sick again after the stress of the last few days. It was a good thing that Ducky had insisted on driving the younger man home as soon as their plane arrived in Washington. It saved Gibbs from doing the same and potentially doing something stupid.
That thought definitely didn't lead in a productive direction. Or rather, it led in a direction that Gibbs had been avoiding longer than he'd been angry at Ari.
But he considered that it wasn't a direction he let his mind go often, and a little fantasy once in a while wasn't going to drive him mad. He sublimated fine at work, limiting himself to the occasional unnecessary slap to the head when the urge to touch just got too strong.
The problem was, he wanted Tony, and not just as his senior field agent. He wanted Tony in his life, in his bed. There was something about the younger man that drove Gibbs to distraction in the rare moments when he let himself think about it. It was the look in Tony's eyes, the way he watched Gibbs in the field and in the office, the eagerness to please, and the urgency with which he obeyed orders. It reminded Gibbs of some of the boys he'd known in the Corps, all desperate for a good alpha.
However, Gibbs was out of that business, he reminded himself sharply. He hadn't led a pack since Shannon died, though he was still in occasional contact with some of those he'd led back in the Corps. He owed Gregory Peck a call, come to think of it.
As much as he wanted it, Tony wasn't another shifter desperate to find his way. Gibbs knew he was just projecting his desires on the skirt chasing agent.
He could dream, however, just for a minute or two.
Giving in, Gibbs closed his eyes, leaning back against the tile of the shower wall, and conjured up an image of Tony in his mind's eye. Green eyes and mobile lips were topped with spikes of brunet hair. Gibbs admitted, if only to himself, that he liked the shorter look on Tony. He didn't have to make up the rest of the image either. Between glimpses in the locker rooms and the iguana scare in Cuba Gibbs knew exactly what his second looked like under his clothes, from furry state of his chest to the way his cock looked at half mast in the early morning light.
Giving himself a sharp mental shake, Gibbs chastised himself for thinking of Tony in pack terms. That was a thing from his past. Tony was his senior field agent, nothing more.
Going back to his imagining, Gibbs saw Tony grin his smug little grin, his eyes almost twinkling in the dim light of the shower stall. Walking forward, he ran his hands over Gibbs' chest, tweaking nipples and generally caressing, Gibbs' hands following the same trails he imagined for Tony.
He wanted a kiss, the feeling of warm lips on his, the dance to two wet tongues, but that was not something he could replicate alone. To guess felt improper, so he avoided the thought in these rare moments when he let his imagination run otherwise wild.
Instead, he imagined Tony dropping to his knees under the stream of hot water, his mouth finally silenced as it wrapped around Gibbs' cock. Gibbs knew that the warmth was really the water, the suction the pull of his own right hand, but the image in his mind looked so perfect, so right. He didn't fight the thrill of lust that surged through him, and for a moment he let himself acknowledge just how much he wanted this moment in truth.
Letting his head drop, his eyes still closed, Gibbs saw his mental Tony grab his own cock, the vibration of his moan of pleasure driving Gibbs wild. Wound up by the image and the stress of the last few days, it didn't take Gibbs long to come, letting out a rare gasp with the pressure of his release.
It wasn't until the hand he reached down, trying to rest it on Tony's shoulder, fell through empty air that he remembered he was actually alone. For a moment, the image had seemed all too real, and Gibbs felt a pang of grief at its loss.
Disgusted with himself, Gibbs quickly finished his shower, washing thoroughly and ensuring the water rinsed away the mess he had made earlier.
But as he stepped out of the shower, Gibbs felt an urge to check on Tony. He needed to see him, smell him touch him if possible, reassure himself that the younger man really had survived the plague and Ari. It was foolish, fanciful, unrealistic, and yet ...
It had been a rough couple of days. Why shouldn't a team leader check up on senior field agent, maybe share a beer as they grieved for a lost team mate? It didn't have to be anything more than that.
Decision made, Gibbs quickly dressed and headed out the door, before he changed his mind.