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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
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918
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1/1
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three little words

Summary:

Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Summary: Not those words.
Notes: off-the-cuff ficlet written while trying to jumpstart my writing brain.
For skripka. As always.
Submitted through the NavyNCISslash2 mailing list.

Work Text:

three little words
by rebecca

No. Not those words. He doesn't need to hear those from Tony. Three wives have cured him of that; he doesn't need to hear 'I love you'. And it's just as well, because he can't say it. He doesn't know if he'll ever be able to say those three little (big) words to Tony.

Whether or not Tony minds, he doesn't know. He's afraid to ask.

It's the other three little words he wants--needs--to hear. He can't ask for them, and he's not sure he'd believe them even if Tony said them. But God, he wants to believe. He wants to pretend that the fourth time's the charm, that this will be different, that this won't be Barbara or Diane or--well, he doesn't count her. He's never really counted her.

So maybe this is the third time after all.

He doesn't know why he's tormenting himself with this at two in the morning, on a night when Tony hasn't been there and likely won't, when he's got himself and a cup of long-gone-cold coffee and his boat. He guesses it's because it's easier to believe the worst at that hour, and it's always easy to believe the worst when Tony isn't there with him. It's almost ridiculously simple to think he's out with one of his bevy of beauties, flirting and laughing til all hours, ending up between Tony's ludicrously expensive sheets.

He isn't, of course, and Gibbs knows it. Whatever Tony's failings, he's never been anything but faithful. Still, that doesn't ease the slight hint of doubt that settles on Gibbs whenever Tony's not there.

Pathetic, really, but he can't seem to stop it.

He sighs and sips some coffee, grimacing at its cold, bitter taste. He probably should go to sleep, but...truth be told, he's not all that fond of sleeping alone. Never has been, which might go a long way toward explaining his three wives and other affairs in between. Still, he's got to get some sleep and he's getting too old to sleep under the boat.

Gibbs puts down the mug and heads upstairs, turning off the light as he goes. He doesn't need ilumination to make his way upstairs; he's lived in this house a long time and knows each little quirk, like the squeaky seventh step and the way the bathroom door sticks after a shower. So he heads upstairs and strips, not bothering to brush his teeth before he pulls back the covers.

And then he just stands there, because Tony's there, sleeping in his bed, sprawled out over the entirety of it, breathing slow and deep and even. The covers come up to the middle of his back and he's not wearing a shirt; Gibbs wonders if he's wearing anything at all.

Tony grumbles a little as Gibbs pushes him over, and as soon as Gibbs is settled Tony rolls back against him and proceeds to imitate an octopus. Gibbs has to hide a laugh; every night they spend together, Tony ends up clinging to him. It's not a bad thing, just...unexpected. Gibbs turns his head and brushes a kiss over the arm closest to his face before closing his eyes, wondering exactly when Tony snuck in and why Gibbs didn't notice.

"Thought you'd never come to bed," Tony mumbles, breath warm against Gibbs' back.

"When'd you get here?" Gibbs murmurs, not really surprised that Tony's half-awake. He sleeps about as soundly as Gibbs--which is to say, not at all.

Tony yawns. "Midnight."

Still doesn't explain why he didn't notice, but it does explain why Tony's mostly asleep and why the bed is warm from his body heat. "Go back to sleep," he says softly. He doesn't bother acknowledging the relief he feels that Tony's there, or the gratitude that he has one more night of this.

"Mmm." Tony kisses his shoulder and hugs Gibbs close for a moment before relaxing.

Gibbs closes his eyes and waits for sleep to carry him off, but it's not obliging. Even now, warm and relaxed in his bed, Tony curled up against him, he can't seem to sleep. The two o'clock black mood doesn't want to leave and he finds himself wondering how much longer he'll have this. How much longer until Tony transfers offices, or agencies, or just up and quits.

Tony kisses his shoulder again. "Shh," he whispers.

"I didn't say anything." Gibbs tugs the covers a little higher; even with Tony wrapped around him he feels cold.

"You're thinking loudly enough." Tony smiles against his skin and Gibbs has to hide a snort--Tony knows him too damn well.

"I'll think quieter."

"Mmm. You do that." Tony rubs his cheek against Gibbs' throat. "You can stop worrying, you know," he murmurs.

"What?" Gibbs blinks.

Tony tightens his hold again. "I'm not leaving," he says quietly.

Three little words. Three words he wanted--needed--to hear. He wants to believe them--God, does he want to believe them. He doesn't know if he can.

But he'll try.

END