Gibbs wasn’t sure if it was cowardice or discretion that had him pretending to be sleeping when Tony’s watch alarm went off. He was pretty sure neither of them had gotten any more sleep after Tony’s nightmare. And even with the extra blanket, the bed wasn’t all that warm since they were keeping as much space between them as possible.
Gibbs had wanted so badly to move closer, to have Tony curl around him again. He’d made himself to stay still though, to remain on his side of the bed. He’d already forced himself on Tony once, even if Tony didn’t know it. Gibbs wasn’t going to do that again. It wasn’t right to have done it at all much less be thinking about doing it twice.
Tony slipped silently out of bed. Gibbs could hear him moving around, getting dressed to go work out. He was tempted to say something, but had no idea what so he just kept his mouth shut, held still and made sure his breathing was deep and even.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so,” Tony whispered softly before heading out.
Gibbs couldn’t help but smile. He felt both proud and more than a little sheepish. He hadn’t fooled Tony and he shouldn’t have expected to. The younger man was one of the best investigators Gibbs had worked with. He was too good to overlook the fact Gibbs was playing possum.
Gibbs shook his head. He got up, shivering as the cool air hit his bare skin. Shit. He was going to complain to the management. If they couldn’t fix the heater or find them another room, they’d better be able to supply them with an alternative heat source.
Gibbs turned on the hot water, letting the bathroom fill up with steam before he stripped out of his clothing. He ignored his morning hard on, refusing to deal with it. He wasn’t exactly punishing himself, but it didn’t seem right to give himself any sort of pleasure when he’d obviously screwed up badly last night.
Gibbs let the warmth from the hot water seep into his muscles, easing the aches and stiffness that came from holding himself still for hours. He sighed. Maybe it would have been better if he’d pushed harder last night instead of just letting Tony shut him out. But he couldn’t see pushing getting him anywhere. Tony could be every bit as stubborn as Gibbs when he wanted to be.
And it wasn’t like Gibbs had much experience in saying he was sorry. He really didn’t know how to go about it especially when Tony wasn’t even aware of what he’d done. That was a bit of a first for him. Usually he was the one who was clueless as to why someone would expect him to apologize. His ex-wives could readily attest to that.
He also had no idea how Tony would react if he found out that Gibbs had kissed him. And he’d wanted to do more than just that. Gibbs suspected all that might have earned him was a well deserved punch to the face. No matter how deserved, Gibbs didn’t actually want to get belted one. He’d sparred with Tony before. The younger man hit hard when wearing gloves, Gibbs had no real desire to take a bare knuckled punch.
Gibbs finished with his shower, movements brisk and efficient. He wrapped a towel around himself and stepped out of the tub. The damp tiles were cool but not nearly as cold as they’d been when he’d entered. He wiped away the condensation that had fogged the mirror and studied his reflection. Tired blue eyes stared back at him.
“Admit it, Marine, you have the hots for Tony.”
It was impossible to deny. Getting hard thinking about Tony and then jerking off in the shower yesterday should have clued him in long before he’d lost control of himself and kissed Tony. Hell, by all rights he should have realized something was up when he got angry over Tony getting a hug from Tammy at the meet and greet. Or when he’d gotten so much satisfaction when he’d found out Tony wasn’t dating much any more.
Saying it out loud somehow made it more real, but it wasn’t quite right either. Having the hots for Tony meant he was just interested in scratching an itch, that it was only a physical reaction, just about sex and nothing more. But Gibbs knew it was more than that. He’d had the hots for Mann, but hadn’t given a damn about what made her truly happy or felt like lovesick teenager just because she smiled at him. He’d fucked Shepard, raw and brutal, never gentle. Sex with her was never about making love; he’d never treated her as something precious the way he wanted to treat Tony.
Other than Shannon, he’d never actually missed any of the people he’d had anything even vaguely resembling a relationship with. He’d missed Tony every day he was at sea. He’d worried about him too. And not just about how dangerous situations he might encounter as the only cop on board a floating city, but whether or not he was eating property, getting enough sleep, if he was as lonely as Gibbs.
When his ex-wives left, Gibbs had been mostly been relieved and maybe more than a little resentful that they could so easily abandon him while holding him responsible for everything that had gone wrong. Tony had been on Gibbs team longer than anyone else, tolerating his bastard attitude and behavior with quick wit and a ready smile. He rarely blamed Gibbs--hell, even the latest fiasco, Tony seemed to think it was at least partly his fault, that he was somehow failed to be worthy of Gibbs’ trust.
Gibbs wanted to beat his head against something. How in the hell had he fallen in love with DiNozzo? When had it happened? Why hadn’t he been aware of it? Was he really that damn dense? And just what was he supposed to do about it? What about rule 12? It was more of a guideline really, but he’d said it so many times to his team would Tony think he was a hypocrite for wanting to ignore it now? Would he even believe Gibbs wanted more than a quick fuck? Or that he’d even be interested in sex with a man when all Tony knew of his sexual proclivities was that he’d been married four times and preferred redheaded women?
Gibbs grimaced. He needed coffee. He set the pot to do its thing. He decided getting dressed was the next priority. He was not going to be wearing a towel when Tony got back.
Stepping out of the bathroom, Gibbs cursed. The temperature contrast between the rooms was definitely noticeable and he had goose bumps almost immediately. He hurried to get dressed, not wanting to be exposed to the cool air for any longer than absolutely necessary. He went with several layers, opting to wear a turtleneck, sweater and jacket. The rest of the hotel might not be as cold; he could always take something off if he needed to but for now he wanted as many layers as he could comfortably stand.
Gibbs turned up the thermostat. He doubted it would help but at this point he didn’t think it would hurt. Turning on the TV he looked for the local weather, glaring at the perky blonde meteorologist who was gleefully commenting on the below average temperatures and the likelihood of them continuing to be well below the norm for the rest of the week.
He got a cup of coffee and watched the news while he waited for Tony to return. Gibbs sighed deeply. He’d always known he cared about Tony--he just hadn’t realized how deeply. He knew Tony cared about him. Hell, he’d risked his life to save Gibbs on more than one occasion. And what he said last night about Gibbs being everything couldn’t be interpreted any other way than honest, deep affection. But that didn’t mean his feelings for Gibbs were more than platonic. Hell, for all he knew Tony could see him as a father figure.
Tony rarely mentioned his father. Gibbs hadn’t met the man, but from what little Tony had said and what he learned from Tony’s file, he already disliked him. What could a twelve-year old possibly have done to warrant being disinherited? And what sort of man sends an eight-year old boy, whose mother recently died, to boarding school? If Kelly had survived, Gibbs would never have sent her away. Every moment with his daughter was precious. Hell, Tony’s father sent him a sander as a birthday present. Clearly the man had no idea what his son liked or did in his free time.
It was obvious to anyone who’d met Tony that he looked up to Gibbs, respected him and modeled much of his own investigative style on what Gibbs had taught him, but Gibbs seriously doubted Tony thought of him as a father figure. The differences in their ages wasn’t that great, and there was a lot more to their relationship than mentor and student. Or at least there had been before Gibbs running off to Mexico, the La Grenouille fiasco, and Tony being sent away as agent afloat. Recovering that closeness was something Gibbs hoped being in Chicago would help him accomplish. Of course, now it wasn’t just about getting back to where they’d been but also the possibility of going even further.
And all of that hinged on Tony. Just because he liked and respected Gibbs didn’t mean he would see him as a potential lover. Gibbs bit his lower lip as he thought about it, eyes staring sightlessly into the depths of his now empty cup. Tony had dated a lot of women, but like Gibbs he could just as easily have kept hidden the men he’d spent time with. Probably for a lot of the same reasons Gibbs kept his own dabblings secret. Other than the Voss case, Tony hadn’t reacted badly or been rude to any one he’d known was homosexual.
He had leaned in when Gibbs had nearly kissed him in the seminar room. At least it seemed that way, but Gibbs wasn’t sure he could trust his own perceptions. Was he right or was it just wishful thinking?
Gibbs got a second cup of coffee, wrapping his fingers around the mug. He breathed in the steam, enjoying the warmth. He sipped the scalding beverage, enjoying the well-known rush of heat, letting the familiar action help him focus in thoughts on finding an answer to his problem.
The only real solution was the obvious one. He was going to have to find a way to ask if Tony was open to a same sex relationship. It was probably better to start that conversation in generic terms rather than asking if he’d consider doing anything with Gibbs specifically. Because if the answer was no, then the question could become just an academic, hypothetical inquiry. Something Gibbs could claim to be asking out of idle curiosity, and not something that could break of the team the way asking specifically if Tony were interested in a romantic, sexual relationship with Gibbs might. Because if Tony said no, Gibbs wasn’t sure he’d stay on the team knowing Gibbs was interested in him. If Tony were at all homophobic he’d likely run the first chance he got.
Gibbs had agreed to this stupid week in Chicago, and made certain it was just him and Tony, to ensure Tony wasn’t going to leave the team. He couldn’t let Tony leave, especially not after he’d realized just how much he needed him professionally and now personally. He wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize that, not when he’d been making so much progress toward fixing what he’d messed up.
Gibbs sighed. He wasn’t exactly known for subtly. But he couldn’t see just asking outright as being a real option either. Asking about someone’s sexual orientation, or how open minded they were, wasn’t exactly an every day topic of conversation. At least not in any conversation Gibbs had ever had with Tony. He couldn’t just sneak it in.
Gibbs laughed, rolling his eyes at himself. He was chasing his own tail again. He was definitely losing his mind.
He sipped his coffee still trying to find a viable solution, but got no further on how to broach the subject with Tony when the younger man opened the door to the room. Tony’s clothing and hair were damp and there were lingering beads of sweat on his face, arms and legs. Gibbs had no idea how far he’d run or how hard, but from the look of him, he’d say today’s workout had been far more punishing than whatever Tony had done yesterday. He quickly looked away before he started thinking about other ways Tony could have worked up a sweat, ways they both could have enjoyed.
“Damn, it’s cold in here,” Tony muttered as he closed the door.
“I plan on having words with the hotel manager.”
“Guessing he or she won’t get to use any.” Tony grinned. He put his IPOD on the dresser, toeing off his sneakers and placing them neatly in the closet. He headed for the bathroom. “I’ll be out in fifteen.”
“Take your time,” Gibbs told him. “I’m only on my second cup.”
Tony cocked his head, a small furrow forming between his brows as he frowned at Gibbs. “Usually you’d tell me I could have ten.”
Gibbs shrugged. “Not on a case, DiNozzo.”
There was really no rush. They had plenty of time for breakfast before the seminars started and they knew where they were going today. He also wanted to make sure Tony didn’t end up getting chilled. It was bad enough they’d both spent several hours not being quite warm enough pretending to sleep.
“Okay, Boss.” Tony smiled and then disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
Gibbs sighed. What did it say about him that even so small a gesture of kindness needed an explanation? But Tony had always claimed not to like it when Gibbs was nice.
Gibbs shook his head, smiling in spite of himself. Tony wasn’t like anyone else he knew. That was a big part of the appeal. It was hard not to like someone who could deal with him at his worst and still smile.
Okay, so he didn’t have a plan and had no real idea of how he was going to talk Tony about what he’d realized, but he still had time. Before they left Chicago, Gibbs would have figured it out. He was a Marine, damn it. They didn’t shy away from the difficult, or wimp out just because it looked hard. Especially not when the rewards could outweigh the risks.
Gibbs finished his coffee. He knew his mission objective. Now he just had pull together a plan. “Piece of cake, right?” he muttered to himself.
For now he simply had to find something to do so he didn’t end up staring at Tony when he came out of the bathroom in just a towel. He might not be subtle, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. Besides, if he played his cards right, he’d be able to stare all he wanted in the future, and hopefully do a whole lot more than just look.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Gibbs finally figures it out...now he's got to figure out what to do about it.