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The Hanged Man

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The Hanged Man
Rose Malmaison
Length: 42,000 words, 11 chapters
Category: Slash 
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Rating: Mature, explicit
Warnings: See tags
Betaed by: Jacie, Combatcrazy
Art by: penumbria, penumbria_fic
Written for: NCIS Reverse Bang 2018








December 2006


Night Moves

Bob Seger

Ain't it funny how the night moves
When you just don't seem to have as much to lose.



They’d been run ragged by their last case, got shot at a couple of times, and had too many suspects and too few clues. When they finally wound up the investigation, the paperwork proved to be a bitch. NCIS had been coordinating with several agencies in four time zones, and the constant squabbling and posturing between the CIA and the FBI had put Gibbs in a really pissy mood. It was over though; they’d locked up the bad guys, and the final set of paperwork had been signed, sealed and delivered to all parties concerned.


It was Friday night, nearly eleven p.m. when they emerged from the Navy Yard. Jethro said he was in the mood for a late dinner of eggs and steak fries at the Olympus Diner, so that’s where they went. Once home, they had a few beers, and messed around on the couch with the late news droning in the background. When they finally made it upstairs around one, Tony took a quick shower and joined Jethro in bed.


Tony was on the edge of sleep when Jethro started kissing his back. He made the mistake of groaning and mumbling, “Mmmm, nice,” because Jethro took it as a go-ahead. He encouraged Tony into a kneeling position, murmuring, “Love your ass, can’t get enough,” as he licked and kissed his way down Tony’s spine.


Tony whined, “I really need some shut-eye. Can’t this wait ‘til morning?” He didn’t really mean it. It was just, he gave him trouble ’cause he took pleasure in making Jethro work for his reward. And besides, he liked to resist a bit before submitting, to show he wasn’t a pushover. One thing about Jethro, whenever he focused on sex, there was no way you could divert him. He was like a heat-seeking missile, not giving up until he reached his target. Jethro’s technique and stamina, and sheer determination to get every last drop of pleasure out of the sex act, usually left Tony feeling like he’d been through a wringer, but in a good way.


They wrestled for a few minutes, but it was half-hearted on Tony’s part. As soon as he complied, and pulled his sleep pants down, Jethro slid his cock home and started fucking him in long, slow sweeps. Considering that until a couple of years ago Jethro had never even imagined having sex with a man, he was pretty damned good at it. Yes, thought Tony, he was the luckiest guy in the world to have Jethro to share his life with. Now, if only he could convince his lover that a bit of bondage was a good thing…




Jethro was fucking him hard, going at it with such enthusiasm that the headboard was banging against the wall hard enough to leave a dent. Tony was past caring. In fact, he couldn't think at all, just felt the fat cock sliding in and out, hitting his prostate just right, the fingers digging into the scars on his hipbones, the hot wet mouth sucking on the back of his neck, and then, finally, the clever fingers wrapped around his cock, jerking him off. The world outside, all the bad shit they dealt with every day, all the death and crime and sheer stupidity simply disappeared as if it had never existed. There was nothing but him and Jethro, the feeling of his pleasure rising, his own desperate whines, sweaty flesh slapping on flesh and the deep rough groans Jethro made every time he drove into him.


It was four in the morning, and Jethro showed no sign of flagging. Where his stamina came from, Tony didn’t know. Not that he was complaining. They hadn’t had sex for days, unless you counted a blowjob he’d given Jethro a couple of mornings ago before he’d even finished his cereal.


Without warning, Jethro bit his shoulder. Tony shouted in surprise, and came hard. “Oh fuck! Yes, fuck!”


Jethro strained and shuddered, and came inside Tony in long, hot pulses. He gave a couple more thrusts, wrapping an arm around Tony’s chest to get better leverage. He wasn’t done yet, drawing it out for as long as he could. Finally, he collapsed on top of Tony with a satisfied grunt, and Tony panted happily in response. There was little he loved more than feeling his lover’s weight on his back, pressing him into the mattress. Covering him with love.


Jethro’s spent dick slipped out. He breathed heavily in Tony’s ear and nuzzled his cheek, too tired to speak.


Eventually Tony’s brain came back online, and he realized one of the phones on the nightstand was buzzing. He couldn't tell if it was his or Jethro’s. Unable to reach his cell, he panted, “Hey. Phone.”


Jethro groused, but he grabbed the phone and peered at it. Holding it under Tony’s nose, he said, “It’s yours,” as if it was somehow his fault for getting a call in the middle of the night.


Tony quickly took the phone out of his hand and squinted at the number. It was the night dispatcher at NCIS. Good thing Jethro hadn’t answered it; the news that they were sleeping together would have been all over the city by breakfast. “Yeah, this is DiNozzo,” he said, trying to catch his breath. Apparently he didn’t cover it up very well because Franklin, the dispatcher on duty, figured he was in bed – with a woman. Tony protested, “No, I’m working out… couldn’t sleep. Very funny. Yeah, she’s hot all right.” He laughed. “Yeah, big. Bigger than that. Okay. Uhuh. Send me the address.”




They’d been together for two years now. Right from the start, Tony had determined that Jethro was a straight-shooter when it came to relationships. No games or lies, because that’s just the way he was made. That was fine with Tony, but as far as sex went, Jethro was way too vanilla for his personal taste. Sure, getting fucked on a regular basis was great, more than great, but never having any rope-play, spanking or cock-and-ball torture was a difficult pill to swallow. Tony really missed it. It was like having a birthday cake with no sugary frosting on it; it was edible but no way did it have that extra zing he craved.


One of his former lovers – and there had been many – had once accused Tony of being a bondage addict. That might be true, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t get it up if he wasn’t bound in leather, or that he didn’t feel pleasure if he wasn’t spanked until his butt was bright red and as sore as shit, because he could and did. It was just… he felt something was missing.


On the other hand, having Jethro for a lover, a life partner, far outweighed Tony’s longing for kink. He had come to accept that it just wasn’t going to happen. It didn’t take him long to get used to being loved the Jethro way, strong and sweet, and sometimes a bit rough. After a while, it struck him one day that he just might have already given up one addiction for another. He was hooked on Jethro, for sure, and he would do whatever it took to ensure their relationship worked.


Tony never doubted that Jethro wanted him, and even loved him, although somewhere in the back of his mind he expected the older man’s desire for him to wane. Tony’s relationships had always been short-lived, and he was no stranger to being rejected or dismissed. Early on in life, he had figured out that it was better for both parties – okay, he was really thinking of himself – if they parted amicably before things soured. He became the guy who gave his dates a good time, and would say softly, “It was great. Go back to sleep,” as he slipped out of bed sometime before dawn. He was the one-night-stand who never made false promises or said he would call you when it was clear he wouldn't.


Gibbs revealed that his marriages had started out okay, that he’d had high hopes for them. But when each of his wives, in turn, had hated his secrets and stubbornness, had tried to change him, he’d dug in his heels and retreated to his basement. He had treated them badly because they couldn’t hold a candle to Shannon. Gibbs knew it was wrong to compare them to his dead wife, but he couldn't help it. He would be the first to admit he’d driven them away.


Once Tony realized that Jethro was serious about their relationship, and truly wanted it to work, he asked, “Why me? What makes you think this will end up any different? I don’t want to go through that, what you did to them. I can’t. I just can’t.”


Jethro had been looking for a lifelong commitment, but in all the wrong places, he told Tony. It had taken him a long time to get past all the pain of losing Shannon and their daughter. There had been a lot of self-hatred, but he was beyond all that. “It’s different with you. It’s you I want,” he’d said.


Tony couldn't believe he was saying this, but he had to. “Wanting me isn’t enough, Jethro. There has to be more to it.”


“I want to make a life with you. We know each other, understand each other. We don't have unrealistic expectations. And I… I’m crazy about you. I have been since the first moment we met. When you got me without me saying anything. Damn it, Tony, I love you. So damned much… Please say yes.”


It was hard to wrap his mind around Jethro actually wanting him in a way that wasn’t fleeting or temporary. And then there was Jethro saying that he wanted a man. That he’d had the hots for him for years. That just beat everything. Eventually Tony took Jethro’s hand and said, “It never entered my mind to try to change you. I love everything about you, even the bad parts. Actually, I think I like those the best.” Jethro was patient and steady, and showed how much he cared about him at every turn, and that was far more than anyone in Tony’s life had ever done. And so Tony said yes.