May 2004

'What was it like tonguing a guy?'

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony closed his eyes and moaned softly. It wasn't so much that the tongue that had invaded his mouth earlier today had belonged to a woman who was in reality a man. It wasn't that the tongue belonged to a gender his co-workers had no idea he secretly desired and sought relationships with on a regular basis.

It was the blatant fact that the tongue was not the tongue Tony so desperately wanted in his mouth.

His mouth craved someone specific.

His mouth ached to taste someone specific.


Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

His supervisor.

His very straight, very heterosexual supervisor.

Tony opened his eyes and shifted his gaze to the side. He boldly stroked his crotch, his fingers tracing his shaft from base to tip and pressing the zipper of his jeans into the hardening flesh with each pass of his hand. His groans of pleasure drifted into the darkness and he did nothing to silence the sound.

He wanted Gibbs to hear him.

He needed Gibbs to hear his hunger.

Tony widened his legs and quickened the pace of his stroking. God, he wanted to fuck Gibbs, wanted to ride the older man's ass until they both blew the roof off with their howls of completion.

Unfortunately for Tony, his needs would go unanswered -- his fantasy denied reality, forever locked away inside his imagination -- only to be hauled out when his body screamed for the touch of the man that would never be his.

Sighing in frustration, Tony forced his hand away from his groin and cranked the engine of his Harley. He cast one last glance at Gibbs' home and softly called the name he whispered every night he jerked himself off to sleep.



Gibbs sat down heavily on the stairs and gazed into the darkness, Kate's question to Tony echoing over and over in his mind.

'What was it like tonguing a guy?'

What was it like, DiNozzo? Did you like it?

Would you do it again?

Would you do it with me?

Gibbs gripped his knees with all his strength, refusing to give into the need to quench the fire raging between his legs. He wanted young Tony DiNozzo, had wanted him from the moment Tony's brash, sexy smile hit him square in the face on that fateful day two years ago.

Three ex-wives littered his past, proof of his inability to deny his desire for men. His failure to deal with the truth of his sexuality haunted him, hardened him, created the cold, unfeeling bastard that he was today. Could he continue to live with the man he had become?

Did he want to?

Or was he man enough to embrace the lifestyle he craved? To embrace the lean, hard bodies he fantasized about, jerked off to every damn night of his life?

Was he brave enough to seek out the man he desired most of all?

To see if Tony DiNozzo would be willing to go tongue dancing with a tired, ex-Marine?

Gibbs dug his car keys out of his pocket and headed down the stairs, glancing briefly at his boat before exiting the garage, his curiosity peaked by the sound of a motorcycle's engine roaring to life.