12. hawk_soaring Would love some Tibbs romance on the high seas. :)
Gibbs barely bit back his groan as he watched Tony, arms spread wide to his sides, on the bow of his sailboat. He’d promised Tony anything—literally—after the other man had barely come through a multiple gunshot situation.
And Tony had asked for this—a weekend away on the boat, just the two of them. They were out on open water now, with nobody near, when Tony had stripped buck naked and clambered to the bow, throwing his arms out and singing “My Heart Will Go On,” a song Gibbs actually knew vaguely. And detested intensely.
The wind was in Tony’s hair and he looked wild and untamed, his skin bronzed dark. The only areas that stood out among the tanned expanse of skin were the still-healing areas, the minor scars white, the major ones still red, puffy, angry looking.
Gibbs pushed his unease back for the moment. Tony was here—vital, alive. Gibbs banished the memory of a blood-covered Tony to the furthest reaches of his mind. He was here—he was safe and he was healing. That was all that mattered.
“Get back down here,” Gibbs growled good-naturedly.
Tony turned his head, giving Gibbs a grin that suddenly transformed him, made him seem much younger. “You ever see Titanic?”
“Nope!”
“Do you know what happens?” Tony asked, giving Gibbs a wide grin.
“Yep.” It was bad luck to mention it though. That was something no sailor discussed on the open water.
“We don’t have a fancy car but—”
“Fancy car?” Now Gibbs was lost.
“Oh, you meant—no.” Tony made his way back to Gibbs, sitting next to him, unconcerned about his nudity or the hard cock rising between his muscular thighs. “I didn’t mean that. Rose, Jack, belowedecks. Steaming up a car.”
“A car, huh?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter. The steaming up part does.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna play, Gibbs?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Last one to the bunk gets to be Rose!” he called over his shoulder as he ran off. Jack, Rose, it didn’t matter. Tony was here with him and he was okay.
“Just don’t sing that song again, or I’m done!” Gibbs replied, following his boy. There was nowhere else he wanted to be.
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My Heart will Go On
Date: 2012-07-02 12:44 am (UTC)Gibbs barely bit back his groan as he watched Tony, arms spread wide to his sides, on the bow of his sailboat. He’d promised Tony anything—literally—after the other man had barely come through a multiple gunshot situation.
And Tony had asked for this—a weekend away on the boat, just the two of them. They were out on open water now, with nobody near, when Tony had stripped buck naked and clambered to the bow, throwing his arms out and singing “My Heart Will Go On,” a song Gibbs actually knew vaguely. And detested intensely.
The wind was in Tony’s hair and he looked wild and untamed, his skin bronzed dark. The only areas that stood out among the tanned expanse of skin were the still-healing areas, the minor scars white, the major ones still red, puffy, angry looking.
Gibbs pushed his unease back for the moment. Tony was here—vital, alive. Gibbs banished the memory of a blood-covered Tony to the furthest reaches of his mind. He was here—he was safe and he was healing. That was all that mattered.
“Get back down here,” Gibbs growled good-naturedly.
Tony turned his head, giving Gibbs a grin that suddenly transformed him, made him seem much younger. “You ever see Titanic?”
“Nope!”
“Do you know what happens?” Tony asked, giving Gibbs a wide grin.
“Yep.” It was bad luck to mention it though. That was something no sailor discussed on the open water.
“We don’t have a fancy car but—”
“Fancy car?” Now Gibbs was lost.
“Oh, you meant—no.” Tony made his way back to Gibbs, sitting next to him, unconcerned about his nudity or the hard cock rising between his muscular thighs. “I didn’t mean that. Rose, Jack, belowedecks. Steaming up a car.”
“A car, huh?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t matter. The steaming up part does.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna play, Gibbs?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Last one to the bunk gets to be Rose!” he called over his shoulder as he ran off. Jack, Rose, it didn’t matter. Tony was here with him and he was okay.
“Just don’t sing that song again, or I’m done!” Gibbs replied, following his boy. There was nowhere else he wanted to be.