Work Text:
Prompts are: insecurity, Gibbs' desk, sorry, sign language
McGee hovered around Gibbs’ desk, biting his lip. He’d screwed up big time on this one. A computer trail had led them to the wrong person and the suspect had nearly taken out the witness. Tony, of all people, had figured it out and a triple tap had taken down the right person before he could kill again. As if the five bodies weren’t enough. Tim had written up his reports slowly, thankful that Tony and Ziva had already left.
Tony hadn’t ragged on him too hard, thankfully. He seemed to know that Tim was beating himself up badly enough. Now, it was only him and Gibbs left in the office, and Gibbs had been stonily silent the entire time. Sure, Gibbs was always quiet, but Tim was worried.
Even though Gibbs wasn’t around right now, having gone to get more coffee, Tim didn’t feel confident in leaving. He should have wanted to slink out, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Not since…
Well, that part of things might be over. It had been a dream anyway. Why a man like Gibbs would want to be with Tim was a mystery anyway. Gibbs was…well, he was Gibbs! Handsome, confident, in control, at the top of his game. Critics had mentioned that Gemcity had a crush on his main character, L.J. Tibbs, and it was true. McGee himself had darned near hero worshipped Gibbs.
And after the shootings, where McGee had possibly killed the undercover police officer and the fallout of learning it had all been engineered by a dirty cop, Gibbs had invited him over. Beer and relaxing silence had turned to comfort, a shoulder squeeze, a gentle hug that McGee had never expected from his boss.
And then he’d made the first move. Him, Tim McGee, geek, closeted bisexual, had laid one on his military straight boss. Tim had expected an ass kicking at best, a firing at worst. What he’d received had been a tentative kiss back, Gibbs’ hand stroking the back of his neck.
It had started then, the unlikeliest of relationships. The geek and the technophobe. But somehow it worked. Tim built and repaired computers in Gibbs’ basement while the older man worked on his boats. Some nights Tim stayed over, some nights he went home. It was always casual by design. They rarely had full penetrative sex, but oral and hand jobs were a two or three times weekly occurrence.
Then the explosion, the coma happened, Gibbs spent months in Mexico. Tim was sure he would have come to his senses when he returned, was shocked when Gibbs invited him over as soon as he was reinstated. Even Hollis Mann didn’t distract them too much. Gibbs worked around her and Tim was pleased there was room for him, even though he knew Gibbs was casually seeing the woman.
After had Jenny died and the team had been split up, Tim started spending half his time at Gibbs’ house. Some evenings he wrote, his typewriter making a home on one of Gibbs’ workbenches, a modern turntable with a cover protecting his expensive records. Even when everything went down with Michelle Lee a few months back, Gibbs had turned to him. That had been the night they’d first had full on penetrative sex, Gibbs sliding inside Tim as if he was meant to be there. Tim supposed he was.
But Gibbs never suffered fools lightly, and this screw up would drive them apart. Tim knew it. Gibbs didn’t trust technology and this would be another emphasis on brawn versus brains, of traditional police work being more important than computer skills. Of people like Tony being stronger assets to NCIS than he was.
Even though Tim had no reason to feel that way, he was frustrated and jealous of the bond Tony and Gibbs had. While there was nothing sexual about it, Tim couldn’t help comparing himself to Tony. And he always came up lacking. Tony was great looking, charming, unconventionally smart, and sometimes enigmatic. Yeah, he was immature and annoying, but he was also loyal, Gibbs’ “St Bernard.” How could a chubby geek with a baby face compare?
“McGee? What’re you still doing here?” Gibbs asked, and Tim realized he’d been leaning on the other man’s desk, deep in thought.
“Report.” Tim waved his hand and Gibbs plucked the report out of it.
“Good. You can go for the night.” Gibbs’ voice was coolly unaffected and Tim tried to hide the wince as he nodded. Just before he turned away, he angled his body so that the cameras couldn’t pick up what he was going to do and signed ‘I’m sorry.’
Gibbs’ eyebrows moved slightly, the only sign that Gibbs was surprised. Whether he was surprised that Tim had learned sign language or that he was surprised about the apology, Tim wasn’t sure.
‘Nineteen hundred. My place. Bring dinner,’ Gibbs signed back and Tim’s expression must have been comical because Gibbs smirked, and after the day they’d had, that was more than unexpected. A little ember of hope started to burn deep inside Tim.
“G-got it. Bye, Boss.” Why did Gibbs reduce him to a stammering red-faced overgrown teen, Tim wondered as he scurried to the elevator.
Two hours later, Tim lingered outside Gibbs’ front door. He’d changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and long sleeved green t-shirt that Abby had told him brought out his eyes, he’d picked up some Chinese, and had managed to calm down some. He was being stupid. Gibbs knew him, knew what he wanted. If Gibbs was mad at him or was breaking up—not that they had much of a relationship to break up—he would have told Tim. Right out. Gibbs may have been too blunt at times, but Tim usually appreciated that.
Taking a deep fortifying breath, Tim opened the door. “Gibbs?” he called out.
“Kitchen!”
Tim walked slowly into the kitchen, surprised Gibbs wasn’t downstairs taking his frustration out on the boat. “H-hi, Boss,” he said quietly, watching Gibbs, who was sitting at the table.
“Sit down,” Gibbs said, seeming to ignore the bag of food. His eyes locked on Tim’s, that sharp blue gaze making his knees want to knock together. This was it. This was the goodbye speech.
Tim sank into the chair opposite Gibbs, forcing out a smile.
“What was that? Earlier?”
“The apology?” Tim’s voice was much higher than he would have liked it, and he cleared his throat.
“Sign language. When did you learn?”
“Um…” Tim shrugged. “When you were in Mexico. Needed something to do…” He trailed off, staring at the table.
“Look at me,” Gibbs commanded and Tim’s chin lifted off his chest without Tim consciously making that decision. It was a purely Pavlovian response. Gibbs spoke, Tim obeyed.
“Better,” Gibbs remarked when Tim’s eyes were focused on his ear. “Why don’t you think you’re good enough for me?”
“I…huh?” The question took Tim completely by surprise.
“You’re enough, dammit. You hear me?” Gibbs slammed a hand on the table. “Yeah, Tony figured things out today, but you did a bang up job too. Not your fault that the facts led you down another road.”
Tim blinked in shock. He hadn’t been expecting this. Then again, Gibbs had been acting different since the team returned. He was more unpredictable than ever.
“Know what I see when I look at you?” When Tim shook his head, Gibbs continued. “I see a young guy, smarter than he knows he is. A hell of an agent. And one I wanna get in my bed right now.”
“You…do?” Tim knew his face was reddening, both with the praise and…the other.
“You walked into the room and my cock got hard. Get over here.”
Tim jumped up, toppling a chair in his haste to get to the other man. Gibbs dragged his face down, kissing him hard, pulling Tim onto his lap. Tim straddled one of Gibbs’ thighs, groaning when the other man unzipped and released him, Tim’s cock springing out into a warm calloused hand.
Gibbs mouth roamed over Tim’s, the low groans a sexy soundtrack to the hand rubbing confidently over his shaft. He knew every hot spot, every place where Tim was extra sensitive, and he milked out every bit of pleasure, his thigh and the denim compressing Tim’s balls and adding to the sensations.
“Want you to come for me,” Gibbs rumbled against Tim’s lips. “Right here in the kitchen. Make a mess. For me…For me, Tim.”
That was all Tim needed. As Gibbs kissed him passionately, Tim gave over to the feelings and emotions.
A low moan started in his chest and Tim let his head fall back, Gibbs moving to lick and nip his pulse point as Tim bucked on his lap. The tremors started deep inside him, and as liquid blue eyes locked onto his, Tim exploded in his lover’s hand.
He was no longer uncertain. He was wanted by Gibbs.
“Thank you.”
“Never forget that you’re more than enough, Tim. You’re mine.”
“Yours.”