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Tony's got him on his knees, bent over and totally exposed. He knows that Tony's sitting there watching him, and he feels very vulnerable and a little nervous and like a complete fool. Except he'd promised Tony that he was ready to try this, and he is. He just doesn't like feeling this spread open in front of an audience, even if that audience is Tony.

It had taken them a long time to get to this point. Years of flirting, broken up by memory loss and undercover ops, before his almost-fatal mistake that resulted in Tony rescuing both him and the civilian he'd endangered by going out without backup in the first place. Once they'd he'd realized what a fool he'd been it wasn't long before he stopped the elevator and shoved Tony up against a wall and his tongue down Tony's throat before either of them could be in danger again.

From there they'd moved to his bedroom and then tended to end their nights there more often than not. After the Israel fiasco Tony'd given up his apartment completely and they ended every night in his their bedroom. Tonight is no different, except it is. He's going to let Tony fuck him.

"Christ, Gibbs. Just...Christ." Tony runs a hand down his flank and pushes his knees a little wider. He hears the snap of a bottle cap and then Tony's pushing a cool, slick finger into his tight hole.

"Breathe and bear down, Gibbs. You're gonna love this, I promise."

He's fucked men before, several of them, but he's never been willing to take it up the ass himself. It's not that he has a problem with people who do, he doesn't, he just...does.

"You're so tight! God, you feel good." Tony's got three fingers in him now, and he's so hard he's liable to come before Tony even starts fucking him. Tony wasn't lying when he said that he'd enjoy this.

Okay, so maybe it's not so much a problem with people who take it up the ass (because, let's face it, this FUCK feels pretty fucking good) as it's a problem with the people who've wanted to fuck him in the past.

"Okay?" Tony's slowly sliding in now, and it's pressure and burn and a hint of pain so all he can really do is grunt in response. He's given a minute to relax and breathe before Tony pulls out and slides back in again.

No, it's definitely a problem with the people who've wanted to fuck him before. They just weren't...worthy. Tony, though, Tony's had his back for years, been there for him when needed and sometimes when he wasn't, and never once given him shit for being a little leery about bottoming.

"Fuck! Gibbs, Jethro...!" Tony's pounding into him now, nailing his prostate with every thrust. He comes suddenly and so hard he whites out. Tony follows shortly after, resting on him for a few minutes before pulling out and helping him stretch out.

When Tony comes back with a wet washcloth to clean him up, he realizes why he's finally given in to the desire to be fucked. Tony's the only man he's ever respected enough to let fuck him. The others, even some Marines, just didn't have it. They were out looking for conquests, people they could look at and say to themselves, "Yeah, I fucked that guy." Tony wasn't like that, not with him, and that's what made it okay.

"Good?" Tony lay down next to him and slung an arm over his waist.