Work Text:
Disclaimer: The characters from the show aren't mine, they belong to others. No copyright infringement intended. Any characters you don't recognise are mine. Feedback would be nice, positive feedback would be nicer. Enjoy!
Category: NCIS slashy ficlet
Rating: FRC/FRT
Characters: Gibbs/Dinozzo
Series: No - standalone
Spoilers: Season One - esp. Hung out to dry
Summary: Oh, that feels soooo good!
Archive: Just tell me where it's going
Additional `stuff': Nothing I can think of - set in my Moving Day universe so assume co-habitation.
Title: TFOA
Gibbs frowned as he pulled into one of the spaces outside the house and saw the building in darkness. He hadn't been that far behind Tony and he was concerned that there weren't the usual power-gobbling array of lights on, an illuminated map of the rooms Tony had been in since his entry into the house.
He hurried into the house, calling out, and, hearing the pathetically- soft answer, ran up the stairs and saw Tony laying, in just t-shirt and underpants, face down on the bed, moaning in the dark as he moved even an inch or two.
`Tony?'
`I hurt *all over*.' Tony griped. `*All over!*'
Gibbs chuckled. `You jumped out of an airplane Tony. When your `chute opened, that pulled your shoulders, chest and spine. When you landed, it jarred your legs and pelvis, and I imagine you tried to steer, which pulled your shoulders and elbows.'
`Just don't touch me!' Tony warned.
Gibbs frowned. `You're blaming me?!'
Tony sighed tiredly. `No, I meant just don't...you know...it hurts!'
Gibbs left the room briefly and Tony closed his eyes, relieved that at least that small action didn't hurt.
Gibbs came back into the bedroom dressed in just his boxers, and knelt on the bed, rolling his eyes at Tony's pathetic-sounding whimpers and moans as the bed shifted under them. `Close your eyes and breathe.' Gibbs instructed, divesting Tony of t-shirt and underwear.
Tony yelped as Gibbs hands, warm and slippery with...something he couldn't identify, slid over his back up to his shoulders and along his upper arms. `What are you...ooohhh...' He moaned loudly, the combination of warmth and gentle pressure relaxing him, the discomfort throughout his body somehow lessened by Gibbs' firm but definitely *not* unwelcome touch.
`Shhh...no talking.' Gibbs whispered, his mouth close to Tony's ear, bodyweight behind the thumbs which sought the sore muscles in Tony's shoulders.
`Uh...okay' Tony slurred softly, squirming slightly under Gibbs' touch.
Gibbs smiled as he felt Tony's body move slightly under his hands. He slid his leg over Tony's waist, straddling the younger man, hands working the whole pale lightly-muscled torso under him, shoulders, back, spine, turning to face Tony's feet as he worked the glutes, thighs and calves with well-practiced skill.
Tony's snores reassured Gibbs his efforts had been appreciated, and he used a soft bath towel to clean as much of the oil which sheened Tony's skin as he could before sliding under the bedclothes, covering them both.
After a while, Tony rolled onto his side and snuggled against Gibbs, a soft smile on his face as Gibbs' arm slid across his hip. `I couldn't hold on. In the plane.'
Gibbs squeezed Tony's belly reassuringly, his hand soft and warm from contact with the oil. `I couldn't get to you. I watched your `chute open...'
They lay quietly for a few minutes, Tony re-living the heart-stopping moment when he fell backwards from the plane, Gibbs recalling the overwhelming relief when he saw the `chute open as Tony left the plane.
`You've jumped. You must have. How else would you know how much it hurts?' Tony asked, certain Gibbs was lying.
Gibbs frowned at the accusation, shaking his head. He was prepared to be a little forgiving tonight, but in the morning they would be having a serious conversation on the topic of trust.
`I've never jumped. But I've seen enough people limping around the next day to know it's something I didn't wanna do.'
`That why you learned massage?' Tony smiled in the darkness.
`No.' Gibbs said without expansion. `Go to sleep.'
Tony's smile faded as he fell asleep, making a mental note to ask Ducky at their next lunch when Gibbs had added massage to his list of skills. And why.
(TFOA - Things falling off aircraft - the acronym for that particular situation)
End