“Tell me something, Doctor. Is there enough love in the world that you have to do your level best to destroy it when it’s true?”
Ziva jumped a mile in fright at the question, the voice hard and almost right at her ear. Turning quickly, she found the woman who’d accompanied Captain Gibson on the night of his admission, the one who hadn’t claimed to sleep with him, standing right behind her. Glaring at her, Ziva retorted, “That isn’t true love, it’s aberrant behavior.”
“Were they hurting you?” the woman hissed.
A hand snapped out to encircle her throat, shoving her against the storage room wall with force. Stunned a bit, Ziva struggled against the hold, but couldn’t get free, the woman was just too strong. “What do you want?”
Leaning forward, Caitlin hissed, “I want you to feel the pain that Captain Gibson is feeling right now. One day, maybe in this life, maybe the next one, I want you to know what it’s like to feel like you’ve caused the death of someone you love.”
The woman released her with a sneer of contempt and then just left her there, shaking. Ziva sighed, running a weak hand through her hair as she shivered with the feeling that maybe she’d just been cursed.
It took a while for her to reassure herself that curses didn’t exist.
* * * *
Every part of his body hurt. Every single muscle and bone and fingernail and hair ached. His left shoulder in particular throbbed with a fire that knew no equal and Tony moaned as he struggled to open his eyes. There was a real fire burning around him, one that had nothing to do with his body being twisted in a very wrong direction. He could hear the hiss and feel the wind fan the blaze hotter and closer, and knew that he didn’t have a lot of time left before the plane exploded and took him with it for real.
It didn’t make sense that he was even still alive, but Tony wasn’t one to miss an opportunity that included remaining that way. So he forced his eyes to open and then his body into sitting up, clinging to consciousness by digging the fingernails of his functioning hand into his palm. His location explained the fact that he was still alive; he was on the top of a pile of sod that was almost soaked into muddiness. It explained the slow burn of the fuel and the cushioning of his plane and, subsequently, his body. The plane was on its side, mostly in one piece, and Tony had been flung from the cockpit into another pile of sod about ten feet away.
The fire ate angrily at the wet grass, sizzling and hissing a protest at the dampness that hindered it. If the engine hadn’t been cracked open, letting out fuel, Tony was pretty sure that nothing would be burning at all. As it was, he could see how close the flames were getting to both the guns and the engine and staggered onto his knees and relatively good arm to crawl away. He’d managed to get another ten feet or so away when the plane exploded for good and the blast knocked him face first into the ground.
Tony lost his tenuous hold on consciousness and plummeted down into the dark.
* * * *
The world felt very gray to
Jethro as he stared at the window through which he caught sight of part of the
command building. It wasn’t the
It had been three days since the news and Jethro had sure as hell not had any trouble in not moving. He’d been so good, they were letting him go as soon as the paperwork was ready. Caitlin and Jen were both coming to spring him, which would’ve made for interesting fireworks had he been the least bit interested in watching them oh-so-politely insult each other.
“Hey, Captain,” Caitlin greeted, suddenly beside his bed.
Startled, Jethro looked over at her and sighed, shaking his head. “Must be losing my touch.”
“You are not,” she replied firmly. “You’re just not paying attention is all. You ready blow this popsicle stand?”
Jethro nodded. “I guess.”
Sitting up with only a minor pinch in his back, Jethro accepted the clothes she gave him and carefully got off the bed to walk to the bathroom. Jen arrived while he was in there, he heard the two women talking and grimaced. Slowly putting on his shirt, Jethro stared at himself in the mirror for longer than necessary, wondering when he’d gotten old, then turned from his reflection with a sigh. He couldn’t hide out in the bathroom forever, as much as he wanted to.
Jen smiled on seeing him and said cheerfully, “There you are! I was starting to wonder if you’d fallen in.”
“Almost,” he replied, managing a faint smile for her. “Let’s get out of here.”
The door opened to admit Dr. Yadin, who looked stunned as she said, “You’ll want to delay your departure, Captain.”
He frowned and asked, “Why’s that?”
“Lieutenant DiMarco was just brought in,” she informed him. “He’s banged up with a concussion, and dislocated shoulder, but he’s going to be fine.”
The world tilted a little at the news and he stumbled into Caitlin, whose arms immediately went around his waist to steady him. Shaking her off, he demanded harshly, “Where is he?”
“I’ll bring you to him,” she offered.
Jethro was hot on her heels as they walked down the hall, Caitlin and Jen right behind them, and in a few minutes, he was looking down at a sedated Tony. The younger officer’s arm was strapped to his chest and he looked bruised to hell and back, but his breathing was steady and his eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids. Keeping himself together by sheer force of will, Jethro sat on the edge of the bed and took Tony’s good hand in his, noting the scrapes and cuts.
Cradling it to his chest, Jethro breathed, “Tony.”
He didn’t even notice when the women left him alone in the room.
* * * *
“I don’t see why I can’t just leave now,” Tony complained, glaring at Dr. Yadin. “It’s not like I’m seeing double any more and my shoulder is fine!”
She sniffed disdainfully as she headed for the door and replied, “When you have a medical degree, you can discharge yourself. Until then, you stay put until I say otherwise.”
The last week out of action would have been completely hellish if not for Jethro’s visits. No one denied the officer access, no matter what time of day it was, and Tony waited anxiously for the hours that his lover spent with him. It wasn’t just because of the break in the monotony, but because it was hard to believe that Jethro had picked him over a normal life with his ex-fiancé. He was reassured of the fact every day, though, because Jethro locked the door behind him and they had a number of make-out sessions to reinforce the decision.
On top of that, Jethro was
adamant about talking to him, it seemed as often as
possible, about what they were going to do after the war. They’d narrowed down
places to live to
The door opened shortly after the doctor left and Jethro entered the room and grinned at him. “You look like you lost.”
“I did,” Tony grumbled. “Not damn fair.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jethro observed, “You were in a plane wreck a week ago, give yourself a break, DiMarco.”
Tony made a face at him, but leaned into the hand that cupped his face. “So what’s on your schedule tonight?”
“We’re having Caitlin picked up. Got a message from her via Donovan’s new code just yesterday. Turns out she’s got some big news for us and we need to get her out ASAP.”
Straightening in alarm, Tony demanded, “Who’s flying the mission?”
“Not you,” Jethro stated firmly. “So plant your ass back down and relax.”
Tony glared at him. “I’m fine. There’s no reason for me to be stuck here, except Dr. Yadin has a bug up her...”
“I suggest you not finish that sentence,” Jethro warned.
Subsiding against the pillows, Tony nonetheless exclaimed, “I’m sick of just sitting here, Jethro! I should be out there, doing something!”
“You will be, soon enough.”
Tony frowned at his lover’s weary utterance and asked, “What’s going on?”
“I need to get back,” Jethro evaded. “Stay put until the doc clears you. It won’t be long, trust me, Tony.”
Catching the other man’s arm, Tony demanded softly, “What’s going on?”
“A lot, but nothing you can do about it right now, and nothing I can talk about here, so just be patient. I’ll see about getting Ziva to release you tomorrow or the next day at the latest,” Jethro promised, taking Tony’s hand in his.
Frustrated, Tony said, “I need to get back into action.”
Jethro tightened his grip on Tony’s hand briefly as he nodded, then stood and replied, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Watching the other man leave, Tony punched the mattress, knowing that something was going on but there was no way he’d be able to find out what. He could probably get it out of Donovan, but the younger man hadn’t been around in a couple of days. Now that he knew Caitlin was on a mission, that made sense, but he still couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t stuck in the hospital.
Grumbling, he settled back down against the pillows and listened to the radio as Billie Holiday sang, ‘God Bless The Child.’ Tony sighed at the sad lyrics and closed his eyes, trying not to feel like the world was spinning out of control and there was nothing he could do about it.
* * * *
Spending the night in Tony’s quarters on base was out of the question, but doing the same at his rented room didn’t seem all that smart, either. There was no way that Jethro could see not spending Tony’s first night together, though, not in uncertain times like these. He’d already thought that he’d lost his lover once and wanted to make up for that, at least a little. Sleeping together, among other things, would reassure him that Tony really was alive and okay in a way nothing else would.
For the time being, he thought darkly, lacing up his boot.
Fighter pilots didn’t, as a rule, have a long life expectancy and getting involved with one was sheer idiocy. Despite that, Jethro could no more stop loving Tony than he could betray his country. Grabbing his cane, he walked slowly out of his room only to hear Tony’s voice down in the foyer. He stiffened in surprise and was glaring at his lover by the time he reached the first floor. “What are you doing out of the hospital?”
Tony grinned and answered, “Good to see you to, Sir. Ducky and I were just talking about what kind of fun could be had on such a nice day.”
Giving him a sour look, Jethro questioned, “And what did you come up with?”
“Well, there’s a few movies we could go to,” Tony told him. “And apparently there’s a great candy store a couple of blocks east of here.”
“I see,” Jethro replied, trying not to grin at the way Tony practically vibrated with energy. “I don’t think you need any sugar.”
“Oh, Captain Gibson, there you are,” Mrs. Mallard exclaimed, bustling up to them with the coffee pot in hand.
Angling to face her, Jethro smiled. “Morning, Mrs. Mallard, what can I do for you?”
“I’m afraid I have to go out of town unexpectedly tonight. I truly hate to impose on you, but my other gentlemen are off on business or have other plans and won’t be home either. Would you possibly be able to keep an eye on Ducky for me over night?”
Jethro met Tony’s gaze and found a resigned expression in place, as though he knew Jethro would say yes.
“He’s got school, of course,” she hurried on. “And he’ll be in bed sharply by eight, which will leave most of your day and night free. I honestly wouldn’t ask, but...”
“It’s okay, Mrs. Mallard, I’ll keep an eye on him,” Jethro interrupted.
He could practically hear Tony’s sigh, even though he knew his lover would never actually make the noise.
Grateful, Mrs. Mallard cuffed Ducky and ordered, “Behave y’sel while I’m gone, or it’ll be your hide when I get back. And say thank you to the good Captain.”
“Yes, Ma,” Ducky agreed obediently. “Thanks, Captain Gibson!”
“Go on with ye,” Mrs. Mallard ordered, pushing him towards the door.
Ducky grabbed his bookbag at the door, waved, and then scampered out the door.
Turning to Jethro once more, Mrs. Mallard told him, “There’s an excellent romantic comedy playing at the theater down the row called Arsenic and Old Lace,” then hurried back to the kitchen.
Tony grinned at him and asked, “So, a romantic comedy?”
Jethro snorted. “The day I willingly see one of those is the day you put me in the ground.”
Laughing softly, Tony closed the distance between them and murmured suggestively, “Oh, I don’t know. I bet the theater’s pretty empty this time of the week, especially since everyone likes war movies these days...”
“Oh,” Jethro replied dumbly, heat rushing through him at the look in Tony’s eyes. Shaking it off, he finished weakly, “I guess it’s okay then.”
* * * *
The day went by faster than Jethro could ever have expected. Breakfast was skipped in favor of getting outside and wandering through the city. Tony seemed fully recovered from his near miss the week before, he had to admit with relief. If anything, he had more energy and vigor than Jethro had ever seen, and that was saying something. Coming that close to death was a good motivator, as he knew from personal experience. It probably helped that snow had fallen overnight, making the city seem pure and clean with its pretty white carpet. People smiled easier and nodded in a friendly way, passing them on the street. Despite the rations and the bombings and everything, that people still smiled at one another made him feel a little more hope than usual.
Lunch was taken on the early
side of
Tony noticed his nostalgia and asked, “What’re you thinking about?”
“Home,” Jethro admitted honestly.
Looking surprised, Tony asked, “You know, I don’t think we’ve even had this conversation yet. Where are you from?”
Jethro smiled and lightly
touched Tony’s shin with his foot. “
Tony blinked. “DC?”
“Yep,” Jethro confirmed, then frowned when Tony started laughing and demanded, “What?”
Hazel eyes sparkling, Tony
informed him, “Me, too. Grew up in
And they both had to cross the ocean before meeting. Shaking his head at the strangeness of fate, Jethro asked, “How long now?”
“About seven years, well, not counting the time after I enlisted,” Tony amended.
Chuckling, Jethro said, “We wouldn’t
have met anyhow, since I was in, let’s see, seven years ago I was in
“Oh yeah? Doing what?”
“Classified.”
Tony nodded and asked, “So what’s your family like?”
With a minor grimace, Jethro replied, “Don’t have one, since my sister died ten years ago.”
“Oh, damn. I’m sorry,” Tony apologized sincerely.
Pushing his mashed potatoes around on his plate, Jethro said, “It was a long time ago.”
Clearly understanding that Jethro didn’t want to talk about it, Tony questioned, “So who’s your favorite singer?”
“Are we playing Twenty Questions now?” Jethro countered, amused.
Tony grinned, nudging Jethro’s shin with his boot as he replied, “Maybe. You sure don’t talk about yourself without a direct question asked.”
“That’s because there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Right.”
“Tony.”
“No, I believe you.”
The merry twinkle in his lover’s eyes said otherwise, but the waitress arrived with their check, saving him from having to reply. They both reached for it, but Jethro was quicker and said, “My treat. You can get the movies.”
Tony snorted. “Yeah, like that’s a comparison.”
Jethro chuckled and pulled out his wallet.
* * * *
The theater was,
indeed, mostly empty when they bought tickets for the
Outside in the cold December
afternoon, Tony tugged in his jacket and said, “Donovan said there were ice
sculptures in
Taking an honest assessment of his leg and back, Jethro almost said no, but then agreed, “Sure. I could do with a walk.”
“Let me know if you need to take a break,” Tony warned.
Jethro smiled at him and started walking. It was a long walk, interrupted by a bus ride, before they were there. Tony seemed to have no problem walking at his pace, so he didn’t even try to go faster than he really could. He wanted to be in good shape for that night, after all, even if they didn’t do more than just sleep together. At least Mrs. Mallard being out of town would be a boon in that direction. They didn’t have to worry about anyone else being in the house except Ducky, and the kid would be sound asleep before they started anything.
The sculptures were set up by the lake and all filled with incredible detail and a delicate beauty. He’d never had any luck at carving or making things from scratch, which was something Jethro really regretted. Jethro just grinned as he sat on a bench and watched Tony get into a snowball fight with some truants. By the time it was over, Tony was on the ground being pelted into submission by the three kids until he cried out, “Uncle! Uncle! I give!”
There were a few more snowballs, but the kids took off laughing, and Tony brushed the snow from himself as he walked over to collapse on the bench beside Jethro. His face was flushed and the grin infectious and Jethro had never wanted to kiss someone so badly in his life. Instead, he said, “We should get back. Ducky’ll be home by now.”
Tony sighed, but nodded and agreed, “Just as soon as I catch my breath.”
“You’re a big kid, you know that?” Jethro teased.
Laughing, Tony replied, “You’re just jealous, old man.”
At that, Jethro laughed out loud and pushed to his feet. “Come on, junior, let’s go home.”
Tony hopped to his feet and fell into step with him, bumping hips with him every so often as they walked back to the bus stop.
* * * *
“Checkmate!” Ducky exclaimed, jumping to his feet and hopping around in imitation of Tony’s victory dance.
Jethro laughed at Tony’s dumbfounded expression at his fourth straight loss and reminded, “I told you he was good.”
“Good, yeah, but this is scary!” Tony countered, shaking his head. “Okay. Enough of this. Time to get serious. Where’s the checker’s board?”
Still chuckling to himself, Jethro pointed out, “It’s past time for Ducky to get to bed.”
“Oh, but Captain!” Ducky protested. “Just one more game!”
Jethro shook his head and said firmly, “Bed, Ducky. I have no intention of getting on your mother’s bad side.”
“You?” Tony asked incredulously. “I’m the one she doesn’t like.”
Ducky heaved a sigh, but stood and started putting the pieces away, then headed upstairs to get ready for bed.
Sitting down on the sofa beside Tony, Jethro asked, “You want to get something to drink while I tuck him in?”
“How close is his bedroom to yours anyhow?” Tony countered softly, licking his lips.
Jethro nearly groaned watching the quick slip of tongue over lips and answered, “The other side of the house and on the next floor.”
“In that case, I’ll just wait for you in your room.”
A shiver ran through Jethro as Tony stood and helped him up, his hand ghosting down Jethro’s back before the other officer went upstairs, taking them two at a time. Forcing his body to calm down, Jethro moved slowly up the steps to the second floor, making sure he was back to normal before he even got to the stairs that led up to Ducky and Mrs. Mallard’s rooms. Opening the door at the base of the stairs, he climbed up them and knocked on Ducky’s door, getting a quick, “Come in!” that made him smile.
Already in bed, book in hand, Ducky beamed at him when he entered and said, “This was the best night ever!”
Jethro sat on the edge of the bed, still smiling. “Glad to hear that, Duck. Brush your teeth?”
“Check!”
“Washed your face?”
“Check!”
“Went to the bathroom?”
“Check!”
Jethro ruffled the kid’s hair and said, “Good man. Tony and I are going to turn in early, so if you need something, make sure you knock first.”
Ducky frowned. “He’s sleeping over?”
“I didn’t want him walking home in the dark, just out of the hospital,” Jethro answered, not really lying.
Accepting that as truth, Ducky smiled and scooted down in his bed.
Jethro looked at the book and asked, “Hornblower and the Hotspur? Isn’t that a little old for you?”
Making a face, Ducky answered, “I like boats. And there’s lots of action, too!”
“I bet there is,” Jethro agreed, smiling. “Sleep well, Ducky. Don’t stay up too late.”
Ducky yawned and shook his head, pushing his glasses back into place. “Just one chapter a night. It’s too good to read fast.”
Standing, Jethro said, “You’re a good kid, Ducky. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, Captain.”
Jethro closed the door behind him and walked slowly down the stairs, leaning on the rail to do so. His leg was throbbing, as was his sciatica, and he sighed in disappointment, knowing that he wouldn’t be good for anything that night. Jethro pushed the door open and stopped short on finding Tony naked and sprawled on top of his bed. Feeling the air leave his body in a rush, Jethro just stood there for a long moment, drinking his fill of the incredible sight.
“You going to come in, or just stand there all night?” Tony asked, amused.
Shaking off the wave of lust, Jethro stepped inside and locked the door behind him. There was no way that he was going to have Ducky accidentally walk in on them, even if they didn’t wind up doing anything.
Tony frowned and observed, “You’re limping.”
Jethro snorted. “You’re quick.”
Making a face at him, Tony sat up as he ordered, “Strip and get on the bed. I’ll give you another massage.”
“I’ll fall asleep,” Jethro protested.
Tony winked, promising, “Trust me, you won’t fall asleep, but you’ll definitely feel better.”
Jethro snorted again, but started undoing his shirt.
Tony hopped off the bed and crossed swiftly to him, taking his hand and telling him softly, “Let me do this. Come on, sit down, Jethro.”
Swallowing in surprise and some gratitude, Jethro nodded awkwardly and hobbled to the bed, sitting down and letting the other man navigate his clothes with ease. It had been a long time since anyone had wanted to do it for him and the fact that Tony wanted to, meant a lot to him. Tony knelt on the floor to get his boots and socks off, massaging Jethro’s feet one at a time before standing again. Jethro lifted his hips to aid in the removal of his pants and briefs, and then he was naked on the bed, holding tight to his cane like it was a shield. No one but doctors had seen him completely naked since the explosion.
Gently, Tony took the cane from him and set it carefully against the nightstand table before turning back to him. Jethro pulled him in tight, between his knees, pressing his face into the taut stomach and feeling the strong arms wrap around his shoulders when Tony kissed the top of his head. “Come on, Jethro, lie back. It’s okay, I promise.”
Jethro pushed himself back on the bed, looking up into eyes that showed nothing but love and desire. There was none of the feared pity or anything to indicate that the other man found his body less than pleasing. He turned over, remembering that Tony had started on his back last time, and said, “Caitlin got hold of some natural oils for me, they’re in the top drawer there,” and pushed his face into the pillow to wait.
“This will definitely work, though I don’t think I want to know what you told her it was for,” Tony told him humorously. “Relax, Jethro, we’ve done this part before.”
Not the part I’m worried about, Jethro thought, even as he tried to make himself relax.
Tony’s hands were strong and sure, more caressing than last time, but just as experienced. It wasn’t long before Jethro groaned in pleasure as his body slowly rearranged itself properly, thanks to Tony’s massage. He was falling asleep despite Tony’s assurances, when something warm and wet slid between his ass, jerking him very definitely awake. He wanted to twist around and see what the other man was doing, but didn’t want to ruin all of Tony’s work.
The movement of what had to be Tony’s tongue repeated along his crack and Jethro buried his face in the pillow when it delved inside his ass. Muffling his groan in the pillow, Jethro couldn’t help arching up and back, but Tony’s arm held him down, making sure he couldn’t move and hurt himself. The torment didn’t last too long, thankfully, but he was panting and hard when it was over.
“Turn over,” Tony ordered, voice hoarse.
Jethro rolled onto his back to find Tony just as hard as he was, the sight of him breathtaking. Tony straddled him again and bent forward, taking his mouth in a hard, devouring kiss that stole even more of his breath. Jethro used what little air he had left to moan into his lover’s mouth, aching for more and threading his fingers through Tony’s hair to keep him in place. He bit Tony’s lower lip unexpectedly when a strong hand took hold of his cock and started stroking it, moving the sheathe up and down in a hand slick with oil.
Nuzzling at Jethro’s throat, Tony groaned, “Feel so good, Jethro, gotta have you in me.”
“Yes, God yes,” Jethro agreed emphatically. “Ride me, Tony.”
Tony took his hand and poured some of the oil in it and Jethro moved his fingers back behind Tony, pushing one slowly into the man’s hole. He took his time, avidly watching Tony’s face as he stretched him, loving the way the younger man gasped softly and pushed back on the invading fingers as one grew to two, and then three. Jethro held out his hand for more oil, but it took a few seconds for Tony to figure that out, which caused Jethro to grin.
“Oh shut up,” Tony muttered, even as his lips tried not to twitch into a smile of his own. “You’re next, Captain.”
Jethro smirked and said, “Looking forward to it.”
And he was. Tony would have to do all the work, and they would have to be careful, like now, but Jethro definitely wanted to feel his lover inside him. Thoughts faded away quickly, though, when Tony took control of the situation and lowered himself slowly on Jethro’s cock. They both moaned when he was fully seated on Jethro, and he took a minute to control himself. The tight heat constricting his dick was more than he’d felt in so long that he was ready to shoot at any second.
“Ready, lover?”
Opening eyes that he hadn’t realized were closed, Jethro met the warm hazel gaze and nodded. Tony held out his hands and Jethro laced their fingers together, giving what support he could to his lover as Tony began to lift and lower himself on Jethro. His heart pounded and his breath quickened as Tony kept things slow and careful, making things almost torturous for them both. He had no idea how long they went on like that, the smell of sweat and sex filling the air, along with the stifled grunts and harsh panting as the love making continued.
Jethro pulled one of his hands free of Tony’s, knowing he was edging closer to orgasm and wanting to bring his lover with him. He wrapped his hand around the strangely bare cock, devoid of its foreskin, and started stroking and twisting around it. Tony slammed down extra hard in surprise, crying out loud at the contact.
They both paused at that, breathing hard, but there was no noise from above to indicate that Ducky had woken. Tony grinned at him and gasped, “Warn a fella next time!”
“Got it,” Jethro agreed, just as breathless as he started up again with his hand.
Tony bit his lip as his eyes closed and his grip tightened on Jethro’s. Sensing that Tony was finally nearing the end of his endurance, thank God, Jethro redoubled his efforts to get him off, using his free hand to smear the precome over the bulbed head with his thumb. Tony arched almost violently at that, coming and clamping down on Jethro’s cock inside his body, which in turn set off fireworks behind Jethro’s eyes as he came.
Sagging down onto him, Tony gasped for air as he lay on Jethro who, for once, wasn’t feeling any pain whatsoever. Jethro put his arms around his lover, savoring the feel of being buried deep in Tony’s body, even if it wasn’t going to last. Mumbling incoherently about not hurting him, Tony slid to the side, pulling himself off Jethro and immediately curling up against him.
Jethro smiled and kissed Tony on the cheek, staring at the ceiling as he memorized everything about what had just happened.
* * * *
Tony woke happily sore and utterly replete, plastered against Jethro’s back, the other man having turned over some time in the night. Probably to a more comfortable position, he realized fuzzily. It wasn’t even light out, but his internal clock said it was at least five. Tony yawned as he kissed Jethro between the shoulder blades and climbed out of bed. He had to get back to base before someone declared him AWOL, which would happen if he didn’t report in first thing this morning.
“Where are you doing?” Jethro asked sleepily.
Turning at the door, Tony answered, “I’ve got to get back to base and report in.”
Jethro yawned and turned onto his back, his form just barely visible in the dark, as he ordered, “You’ve got time, flyboy, get your ass back in bed.”
Tony grinned and replied, “Planning to be that quick, huh?”
“You got it,” Jethro agreed, voice warm with humor.
Tony hesitated, but then mentally shrugged and headed back to bed. There probably wouldn’t be a lot of opportunities like this until the war was over, and who knew how long that would be? After a long, lazy, good-morning kiss, Tony pulled back and asked, “What do you want?”
His hand reaching down to stroke Tony’s cock, Jethro answered hotly, “I want to taste you, want you in my mouth, Tony.”
Groaning softly, Tony nipped his lover’s shoulder and said, “I can solve that, don’t move,” before turning over and settling with his face over Jethro’s cock and his own hovering over Jethro’s mouth. Wet heat surrounded him almost instantly and he stuffed his mouth with Jethro’s shaft in order to stifle the sounds trying to get out at the sensation. He’d had this before in the bathroom, but it was just as great as the last time and he wanted it as often as possible. He wanted to make Jethro fall apart for years to come and sucked eagerly on the dick in his mouth, going down all the way.
Jethro’s groan reverberated along Tony’s shaft, spiking the pleasure and need through him. It was almost impossible to focus with the way his lover kept taking him in so completely and all too soon, his body tightened and his hips jerked rapidly in orgasm. He spilled down Jethro’s throat, gasping and pressing his mouth to Jethro’s thigh to stifle himself as his lover’s throat swallowed around him.
Once more in control, he retook the hard, leaking shaft and sucked hard and deliberate, his tongue sliding into the extra sheathe of skin so few of his lovers had ever had. It didn’t take long to drive Jethro over the edge and he swallowed down the come with pleasure, milking the other man until Jethro’s groan was tinged with complaint. Pulling off then, he gave a last lick before swapping around and curling up against Jethro’s side.
“God, Tony, that was...really good,” Jethro told him with a heartfelt sigh.
Tony grinned briefly at the inelegance of the compliment, even as he knew how sincere it was. Jethro wasn’t much for words, no doubt about that, but the praise he did give out was earned. Heaving his own sigh, just as satisfied, Tony said softly, “I love you.”
Smiling against his temple, Jethro replied, “Me, too, Tony. More than...well...let’s just say I haven’t felt like this in a long damn time.”
Tony was almost afraid to ask, but he had to. “Jen?”
But Jethro shook his head and answered, “Another Naval officer named Stan Henricks. No, Jen and I...it was never about love with her. If we had gotten married, it would have been one of convenience and respect, but not love.”
Thinking it over, Tony asked, “What happened to him?”
“Stan? He joined NCIS for some ungodly reason,” Jethro told him, shaking his head. “Never understood that. Glorified cop, is what he is now. He doesn’t even have a rank any more.”
Tony shrugged and said, “Everyone’s got a calling.”
“True,” Jethro agreed before falling silent.
Tony kissed him again and reluctantly pointed out, “I really need to take a shower before leaving, and Ducky will be up soon.”
Jethro’s sigh this time had nothing of contentment in it, but he nodded. “I know. I just don’t want to leave this bed.”
“You’ve got time, get some more sleep.”
But Jethro shook his head and said, “I’ll see you off.”
“Okay, but stay here for now and keep off your feet,” Tony urged.
Jethro swatted him on the ass. “I am not some invalid, DiMarco. Get your ass in the shower and let me get the coffee started.”
Shaking his head, Tony got up and unlocked the door muttering, “Damn stubborn fool.”
“And don’t you forget it,” Jethro called after him.
Tony didn’t take long in the shower, knowing that he had to get back as soon as possible, basically just rinsing off and jumping out of the tub. Towel around his waist as he opened the door to go back to Jethro’s room, Tony found a sleepy looking Ducky with wild hair standing in the hall and grinned. “Morning, shortstop.”
Ducky waved vaguely at him and wandered silently into the bathroom, putting up the toilet seat.
“He doesn’t actually talk until he’s at the breakfast table and mostly done with his cereal,” Jethro informed him when they met in the hall.
Tony chuckled and said, “Sounds like the kid could use some coffee.”
“I am not stunting his growth,” Jethro retorted. “You want breakfast before you take off?”
“Nah, I’m good,” Tony replied. “I’ll get dressed and see you downstairs.”
Jethro nodded and headed for the stairs while Tony returned to the bedroom. He opened the window while he was there, not wanting Mrs. Mallard to come home to the smell of their sex, as much as he personally liked the way it lingered. The woman was as sharp as a tack and just as painful when she wanted to be, Tony suspected. Jethro didn’t need to be looking for new living quarters because of him.
It was only a few minutes before he jogged downstairs, dressed and ready to go. Ducky was at the kitchen table, not looking any more awake, as he shoveled cereal into his mouth without really looking. Chuckling at the sight, Tony looked over at Jethro and nearly groaned out loud at how damn sexy the man looked in pajama bottoms and a t-shirt with bare feet at the stove.
Jethro turned at the chuckle and met his gaze before briefly looking him up and down. A smirk tugged at his lips as he observed, “You’ll do.”
Tony snorted. “Thanks.”
“C’mon, I’ll walk you out,” Jethro offered.
Tony shortened his stride to keep pace with Jethro as they walked slowly to the front hall. Once there, he paused and reached out to sketch a hand over his lover’s face, not actually touching him. “Catch up later?”
Jethro grimaced and answered, “Not sure. It’s going to be a busy day with meetings, but I’ll try and join you for supper in the mess.”
“Meetings. Fun,” Tony teased.
Cuffing him upside the back of the head, Jethro informed him, “It’s not nice to make fun of your superiors.”
“Don’t you mean my elders?”
“You’re really cruising for it, DiMarco.”
Tony grinned, but it faded and he sighed, not wanting to leave even though he knew he had to. “All right. I’ll see you later, Captain.”
Jethro nodded and gripped his hand tightly before turning and heading back to the kitchen.
Watching him go, Tony sighed again and left the house, coughing in the bitter cold air outside. He shivered and zipped up the jacket, grateful for the shepherd’s sweater under his jacket as he walked towards the base. He wouldn’t have to walk the whole way, fortunately, since he could catch a bus partway there.
Tony was still walking for the bus stop when the engines first rumbled into his consciousness and he froze in place. His head cocked to the side as he listened for the direction and looked up into the still-dark sky. The streetlamps on this block were out, thanks to the power shortages, but he could just barely make out the time on his watch, which was about five thirty. Most of the city was still sleeping, which was the perfect time for a raid on an already depressed population.
Without thinking, he ran back the way he came, not even caring that he was out in the open and not near shelter. The only thought he had was to get back to Jethro and Ducky, to keep them safe. The bombs fell before then and he screamed in fury as he saw the sky light up right where Ducky’s block should be. Putting on a burst of speed, Tony ran as fast as he ever had towards the fires as a second and third bomb went off. Pain lanced through his side but he didn’t stop to see what had hit him, he just kept running.
The street was in ruins when he got there and Tony skidded to a stop in horror, taking in the devastation. Shaking off the paralysis, he started up again, struggling against the pain in his side and trying to breathe as best he could through lungs abused now by smoke and cold and a mile run at full tilt. The Mallard house was partially caved in, but not on fire so far as he could tell. The one beside it was, but Tony ignored the warning in favor of running up the front stairs to the Mallard’s door. It was jammed, so he stepped back and kicked at it repeatedly until it opened.
“Jethro! Jethro where are you!” Tony shouted, coughing as smoke hit him. “Jethro! Ducky? Ducky, can you hear me!?”
There was no answer as Tony ran to the kitchen and found it empty of people, but filled with smoke from the grease fire on the stove. He took a second to grab the skillet and shove it into the sink before looking for the basement door. Jethro would have heard the engines and gone to ground in the root cellar Mrs. Mallard was sure to have, with as many boarders as she rented to. He found the door and yanked it open, shouting as he stumbled down the top few stairs.
Finding neither of them there, either, Tony groaned in frustration and fear and ran back upstairs. Taking the main stairs two at a time, he continued to shout for both of them, but got no answer when he burst into Jethro’s room. The east side of the second floor ceiling was cracked and made ominous creaking noises, signaling just how much pressure it was taking from the caved-in third floor.
Agony sliced through him as Tony realized that was the only place left to look. He hurried to the door, but didn’t open it, not knowing just how precarious the balance of the building was. Instead, he shouted, “Jethro? Ducky? You in there?”
“Tony! Tony help!” Ducky screamed.
“Easy buddy, I’m coming in!” Tony shouted back, taking a breath before opening the door that led to the third floor.
Tony jumped aside as rubble came sliding down at him and he hit the side wall, cursing fluently as the pain increased. When nothing else came out, he looked into the stairwell, but there wasn’t much to see. There was a tiny space on the bottom three steps where Ducky huddled under Jethro’s motionless body. Shoving aside the panic and heartache to deal with later, Tony held out a hand and ordered calmly, “Come on out of there, Ducky, come on shortstop, you can do it.”
Ducky crawled out from under Jethro and latched onto Tony, who grunted at the tight grip around his waist. “Ducky, I need to check out the Captain. You have to be brave and get outside, okay? Wait for the firemen and police to get here, okay? Can you do that?”
Wiping at his tear-stained face, Ducky’s breath hitched on a sob but he nodded and let go of Tony, limping to the stairs. Seeing that the kid wasn’t really hurt, Tony turned his attention to his fallen lover and moaned in despair before he even got close enough to see what had happened. They must have been on their way down from the attic when the bombs had fallen. Jethro had used his body to shield Ducky from the collapsing roof, not standing a chance of surviving, but giving the one chance to the boy.
“Oh God, Jethro,” Tony sobbed, before getting control of himself.
He could hear the building crack and felt it sway under his feet and knew that it was only a matter of time before the rest of it came down. The temptation to just stay and let it kill him, too, was nearly overwhelming as he stared at Jethro’s broken body. But it was no way to honor the other man’s memory and he swallowed back the pain to grab his lover’s body and pull it as carefully free as he could. Tony stumbled and wound up on his ass, holding Jethro’s body in his arms in a parody of a lover’s embrace. His pain escaped in a loud sob, tears spilling freely as he forced himself to his feet and pulled Jethro over his shoulder.
The walk out of that house with Jethro’s body was the worst journey he’d ever had to make in his life. By the time he reached the chaos of the street and lay Jethro on the ground, Tony couldn’t feel anything any more. He sat on the dirty snow by Jethro’s body and ignored everything around him, including Ducky, who sat beside him, holding his hand while Tony held Jethro’s. He lost track of the people who tried to get him to move, brushing off those who actually tried to physically take him away.
“Son? Son, are you okay? Where are you hurt?”
Tony blinked stupidly when the Admiral’s voice penetrated the fog of his grief, looking up to find the man staring down at him in concern. “Hurt? I’m not...”
“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant. Your sweater’s soaked in blood,” the Admiral said kindly, crouching down beside him.
Looking down at himself in surprise, Tony discovered that the other man was right. He gave a weak smile and said, “I guess that’s why I’m so cold.”
“Come on, let’s get you seen to,” the man ordered softly.
But Tony shook his head and told him, “I can’t leave Jethro. Something’ll happen, there’s too much going on here. Someone could...”
“He’ll be fine, Lieutenant,” Morrow promised. “Look. I’ve got an escort and they’ll stay with him. He’ll get a proper burial, I promise, but I don’t want to bury two of my men today.”
Tony tried again with, “Ducky needs someone to get him to his mother. She’s out of town.”
“I’ll make sure he’s taken care of, they both will be son, I promise.”
Feeling weak and sick, Tony looked at his lover’s bloody and bruised face, so unnaturally still and told Morrow, “He saved the boy, saved Ducky.”
“And now it’s time to save you,” the Admiral stated firmly, putting his hand under Tony’s elbow and pulling him upright. “That’s what Jethro would want, Lieutenant.”
Tony groaned and staggered against the older man, tears spilling shamelessly as he was led from the area. He took a last look at his lover’s body as he was loaded onto a stretcher and brought to the ambulance at the curb, unable to stop crying and not caring who saw it. His last glimpse of Ducky was the boy picking up Jethro’s cane and holding tight to it, and then the ambulance door closed.