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Glimpses of an Alpha Life

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Tony licks into Gibbs's ass and slips his lubed fingers in, twisting them and tasting the strawberry lube, teasing Gibbs with little puppy licks as he stretches him in preparation for being fucked and knotted and seeded (you can't breed an alpha, but you can fill one up with cum). Gibbs is a moaning, sloppy wreck, and Tony is quick but thorough, sliding in a third and forth finger with no warning, kneading Gibbs's sweet spot.

Gibbs groans and pushes his butt back onto Tony's four fingers and that's when Tony knows Gibbs is ready.

He wipes his hand on the t-shirt beside them and he nudges Gibbs until he rolls over and sprawls out on his back.

Gibbs's hips are rocking up rhythmically and he's fucking his thick cock into a clear see-through fleshlight, his large balls pulled up tight beneath his swollen knot. "Come on, Anthony, get your cock in me already," drawls Gibbs.

Tony jerks his head up from where he's been staring at Gibbs's hard red cock fucking into the toy and Gibbs's blue eyes are dark and hazy with arousal as he meets Tony's gaze. "As you wish, boss," says Tony with a grin.

Gibbs grunts, sounding vaguely pleased, and he jerks the fleshlight faster on his cock, pulling it down harder and farther, starting to stretch the tight hole with his knot.

Tony lines up and thrusts hard, fucking his cock into Gibbs's hot slick asshole and Gibbs cries out, bucking up and forcing the mouth of the fleshlight down over his knot. Tony moans, Gibbs's ass clenching and rippling around his cock as Gibbs cums, and he sets a lazy pace, leaning down to kiss Gibbs, his own knot slowly starting to swell again.

Their rut will last for another day or two, there's no rush, no need to time their orgasms.

Gibbs grins into their kiss, a hand coming up to cradle Tony's head. They are together and they have all the time in the world.




The next week they're back to work, back to reality.

They catch a case that feels like a mockery of their relationship. Two omegas horrifically raped and murdered because they fell in love and one furious ex-boyfriend alpha had believed that they should have both fallen for him because he's an alpha and they're omegas and that's just the way it works.

Alphas and betas, betas and betas, betas and omegas, and most importantly, alphas and omegas.

The murderer won't shut up about his opinions on society, and Tim looks upset and Ziva looks homicidal, but they both have a degree of uncomfortable to their faces which makes Tony suspect that while they disagree with the extremity of murder, they do agree with the attitude of the alpha they've just arrested. Tony doesn't dare look at Gibbs.

Omegas don't fall in love with omegas, and alphas don't fall in love with alphas. And yet, Tony and Gibbs, both alphas, have fallen for each other. They're reached the point in their relationship where Tony has no doubts as to Gibbs's feelings because Gibbs tells him. Often. Casually. Seriously. With a crooked grin sometimes. In the middle of an argument other times. When they're knotted together, one way or the other. Tony's even said it back a few times, though not as often.

But always in private. Times are changing, sure, the world has gotten both more and less bigoted, in different places, but alphas loving alphas and omegas loving omegas seem to be the line so many people have drawn in the sand, one they won't cross.




"But which one of you is the omega?" asks Senior confusedly as Tony chokes on his beer, unable to believe that they're actually having this conversation (he's well aware of his father's old fashioned beliefs but he could do without his old man prying into his sex life).

"Me," says Gibbs flatly, lying through his teeth (they are both alphas, they wouldn't be having this conversation if Tony had brought home a nice pretty beta or omega), but he's fed up with the invasive questions. "I'm the one who gets fucked and knotted like a good little omega by your alpha son, I just happen to be an alpha myself."

And Tony, who had finally caught his breath back, spits out his new mouthful of beer.


Gibbs offers to bottom that night, some strange backwards form of defiant pride (alphas aren't meant to be fucked, but they haven't let that stop either of them), and so Tony tops because he's not about to turn that down, but he's blazing with fury himself and he makes a point of not holding back as he yells out, "Harder, faster, fuck me, Gibbs!" while Gibbs literally bites his pillow to stop his laughter from escaping.

Senior is staying in the room across the hall.

Yeah, they're all a bit fucked up.

The next morning Tony and Senior are both bright red and refuse to look each other in the eye as they eat breakfast at the table. Gibbs, the bastard, hums as he smears jam on his toast, but every now and then he scowls in Senior's direction as Tony's quietness gets to him.




Tony's not sure how much longer he wants to do this. Work for NCIS, that is. It would be hard, being someone's dirty little secret. But it's even harder being someone's partner and lover and having to keep your mouth shut about it so you don't have everyone looking at the pair of you like you're freaks.

Tim remarks that Tony doesn't seem to be getting much action with betas and omegas anymore. Ziva teases that maybe he's no longer his youthful and handsome self. They're both idiots, and Tony would smack them both up the side of the head for calling themselves investigative agents and missing the obvious, but he and Gibbs agree that the consequences would probably be pretty bad if they find out. Tim and Ziva's blindness is their most prominent indication of their prejudice, even as it shields Tony and Gibbs from that same prejudice.

Tony and Gibbs aren't actually putting much effort into hiding their relationship. They shower to wash off each other's scent before coming in, and they haven't mated with bites yet, so they've got that going for their secrecy, but that's about it. They make no secret of their car-pooling or of going for lunch together or of the occasional affectionate touch between them.

The only rule against fraternisation is Gibbs's, not NCIS's, and it's hardly the first time he's broken his own rules. Gibbs's rules are there to help them, and if one of the rules is hindering their health and happiness more than helping then it should be broken.




Tony accepts his dinner plate with a grin and quick "Thanks," and Gibbs settles in beside him on the couch. It had been Gibbs's turn to make dinner, and with the time and energy that came from one of their days off work, he'd cooked one hell of a meal: steaming veggies and roast potatoes lightly spiced and pork ribs zealously sauced.

Tony digs in eagerly, moaning at how good everything tastes. "Dis ish perfec-shun," he tells Gibbs around a pork rib.

Gibbs shakes his head, but he's smiling crookedly too. "You're welcome, darlin'," he murmurs, and takes another bite of potato.

They eat dinner, and have fun splashing bubbles and water at each other as they clean up the dishes, and then they stumble their way up the stairs, losing wet clothes all the way to the bed as they get caught up in kissing.

Their love-making is fast and simple, their hands eagerly stroking each other's cock until their knots swell up, but it's sweet too, with Gibbs pressing kisses to Tony's lips and cheeks and temple, and then they're both gripping tight and crying out as they make a mess between their bellies.

After, they stagger into the shower, washing each other with warm soapy flannels, and take turns drying each other off with new big fluffy towels. Tony pulls on cotton boxers and Gibbs pulls on cotton briefs and soft sweatpants, and they tumble back down onto the bed for some quiet talking about their sailing trip planned for their next weekend off call.

Drowsy, Tony loses track of the conversation and stares into Gibbs's eyes, pleased and marvelling at how much more open and expressive they are when it's just the two of them like this. Gibbs smiles back at him and reaches over to click off the bedside lamp. He cuddles in close and presses one last kiss to Tony's heart.

Tony dozes off with Gibbs's arm slung over his waist, running his fingers through Gibbs's silken silver strands, and a grin on his face. He's happy, they both are.