A little comment ficlet written for crimsonquills (with thanks to blueraccoon for letting me know it didn't totally suck), and as good an excuse as any for my first contribution here:
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It's Gibbs' mouth that gets to him. He can't keep his eyes off that mouth, those firm lips, the forbidding jaw that's so often clenched tight as Gibbs bites back words, bites back anger.
Tony wonders what else Gibbs bites. Bites back. He meant bites back.
He wonders what it would be like to be the person who could shake Gibbs' control and loosen those tight muscles, make Gibbs' jaw go lax and his lips go soft and welcoming.
It's Voss's fault. Ever since Tony kissed him... her… him… all he can think about is kissing Gibbs.
Tony never thinks about kissing men. He doesn't ever want to think about kissing any man, much less Gibbs.
Telling himself that doesn't help. Not at all.
"DiNozzo," Gibbs barks as he pushes away from his desk. "With me. Now."
"Boss?" Tony's hard pressed to keep up with him as Gibbs strides toward the elevator.
Gibbs says nothing, just stands there with his mouth shut tight and his back straight as they wait for the elevator.
Tony tries, but he can't keep himself from stealing sidelong glances at the tiny movements of the muscles in Gibbs' jaw. He isn't aware that he's flexing the fingers in his right hand, the hand closest to Gibbs.
"Boss?" he tries again as the elevator doors open.
Gibbs just steps inside and punches a button.
They're between floors in the parking garage, Tony reckons, when Gibbs flips the switch to stop the elevator and turns to face Tony.
Tony's heard that some snakes mesmerize their prey with their eyes before they strike, immobilizing their victims. Now he believes it. Now he knows what the prey feels like.
Gibbs takes a step toward him, then another, then one more and he's in Tony's space, in Tony's face. "Got something on your mind lately, DiNozzo?"
Tony swallows hard. "Boss?" he says again, painfully aware that he's repeating himself.
Slowly, so slowly, Gibbs raises a hand and slides it behind Tony's head. "You've been asking for it," he says. "Now you're going to get it." And he leans into Tony and kisses him.
Tony hears the noises he's making, sounds of shock that quickly morph into surrender and hunger and desperation, and he thinks he should be embarrassed, but there's no room left in him for that. It's all crowded out by the incandescent pleasure of Gibbs' mouth, his lips every bit as soft and warm and welcoming as Tony had ever dared to dream.
Gibbs' hand is big and warm and gentle on the back of his neck. Gibbs' body is hard and hot and inviting and it spreads him, all willing, all eager, up against the wall.
It's Tony who first offers his tongue, and when Gibbs meets it with his own, Tony knows that this is what he's been waiting for all his life.