DiNozzo was used to associating Gibbs with pain. The pain of headslaps. The pain of blooming bruises and burning wrists and dry, bloody lips when Gibbs burst in to untie him from whatever chair he'd been tied to this time, and incapacitate whoever had been punching him this time (a luxurious hotel room, a hellacious Somalian cell; the setting changed, but the presence of 'Gibbs' and 'pain' remained the same).
When it was pain by itself, well, that was a bad thing. The pain of lungs too burdened and heavy to rise, muscles too tired to heave them. The pain of innumerable solid-object and his-head collisions. The pain of a broken arm struggling to support his body while he desperately tried to get to his gun before the assassin-wielded glass got to him. That, that was bad.
When it was pain and Gibbs, it wasn't so bad. Screeching lungs and a blood-scoured throat were accompanied by the feel of a rough hand on his. Yet another goose-egg and short slice of a scar hidden under his hair were accompanied by thumbs lifting eyelids so Boss could see for himself that Tony was all right. Angry self-recriminating agony in a hospital hallway, watching through the small window as this assassin came to decide that she hated him, was accompanied by the assurance that Gibbs was looking over his sling-bound shoulder.
Pain and Gibbs and this - Tony gasped, a ragged whooshing inhale through a brief gape of mouth - that was good. A strange sort of good, as befitted them. Anything about them that wasn't strange would be, well, strange. For them, strange good was good. Gibbs and this was good. Gibbs and pain and this was good. He could handle this. He would handle anything Gibbs wanted him to.
"Come on, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, voice gruff with intent, but, despite the words, no annoyance. "You're gonna take this."
"God, Gibbs- " Another gasp, quieter, sharper, less air.
"Come on!" More encouragement, and demand, as opposed to frustration or recrimination.
Tony nodded shallowly, neck tendons tense, teeth just digging down onto his bottom lip. He stayed on his hands and knees on the bed, but inched his hands just a bit farther up the mattress to wrap his fingers around the bases of a couple of the headboard's varnished posts.
He forced himself to spread his legs a little more, his shins a wider bracket for Gibbs' body kneeling behind him.
Gibbs brought the finger to rest on his hole once more. "You're telling me you can't take one finger without lube?"
"No, no, Boss, I can!" Tony breathed out desperately.
Gibbs nodded in Tony's peripheral vision. "That's what I thought."
His finger shoved in to the first knuckle.
It burned. No glide, no easing. Even a small invasion was difficult without the usual slickness, this pain made worse by apprehension over what was to come. He almost wished he didn't know Gibbs' hands so well, didn't know exactly how long his finger was, how much more he'd have to take.
Gibbs' left hand grabbed Tony's left hip, using the hard curve of the hipbone for leverage, almost pulling Tony further onto the finger. Up to the second knuckle, a steady dragging roughness inside of him. Then, after the briefest half-second of halt, while Tony still grabbed frequent little breaths through his nose, and turned his own knuckles into claws around the bedposts, Gibbs shoved. Shoved the rest of the finger in, a steady, stabbing, sudden force. Now it was all the way in, and he felt himself rippling against the rest of Gibbs' hand where his hole was breached.
"All right, DiNozzo." It was a statement more than a question.
God, he couldn't believe just the single finger could be so much, could feel like all of Gibbs' cock was in there.
The finger pulled out, a rough, catching, stinging drag. He breathed out heavily when it left him, his eyes widening out of their strained narrowness.
He heard Gibbs give the little huff that was vaguely comparable to a laugh. He saw the hint of a crooked, devilish smirk on the face he loved. "Oh no, you're not done yet."
The left arm moved from his hipbone to wrap around his thighs, the top of Gibbs arm brushing his cock, Gibbs' body angling slightly to the side. He was trapped, held still and in place, unable to sink down or away.
A moment of suspense, as Gibbs seemed to relish what was to come, while Tony's lungs increased their efforts in preparation.
"You might want to hold on a bit tighter."
A microsecond after the warning, at the same time as his eyes widened in apprehension, and his hands obediently clenched harsher fists around the bedposts, he felt the brush to his hole again. Two fingers, seeking entrance. Not seeking - he gulped, and and swallowed onto a little gurgled exclamation of pain - demanding. Two tips shoving in and God, still no lube.
"That's it," Gibbs rumbled in satisfaction, like dark satin.
"Boss!"
"You can take it," he pre-empted, fiercely.
"Can - can you wait a minute, I -" he broke off with a guttural cry as the fingers drove further.
"Open, DiNozzo."
Tony gave another grunt of pain, his head thrown back, his teeth clenched and lips grimacing. His fists were red and white where they held desperately to the wood.
Both fingers were in to their hilts, the burning long, sharp, and inescapable.
"You're gonna feel me. Your ass is gonna ache, every minute you're sitting at your desk. Every minute you're standing there, talking to Ziva and McGee. Every minute you're chasing down a suspect, and it hurts so bad to run." He pulled the fingers out, a dragging hurt, then shoved them back in - again, and again, a shocking, blazing burst of pain each time they hit their widest breadth - as he spoke. His restraining left hand's fingernails gripped moons into Tony's slick skin, a mere stinging sidenote compared to the sharp, sharp pain of the repeated forcing in. "And you're gonna sit there" - so harsh, so wide, Gibbs' strength driving past the resistance - "and ache" - he bent the knuckles inside, and Tony moaned, putting his head down, bending it to his sternum, the tendons tense and straining at this more, at the widening of the invasion - "and only you and I are gonna know why."
Gibbs shoved the two fingers in all the way to their last knuckles one more time, yanking Tony's thighs back, forcing the digits as far in as they could go, Tony's hole nearly forced to start stretching for the ball of the hand.
He cried out, long, low, every bit of him straining, thighs burning from staying upright and open, arms from bearing and grasping, neck from enduring his clenched, agonised jaw. But God, his hole. Gibbs held them like that, frozen, for a long moment, then eased off the pushing pressure.
He pulled his fingers out, slowly, and Tony tried to stay as open as he could. Then the fingers were out, but he still stayed in the same hands-and-knees position, trying to acclimatise to the lingering pain.
"You look okay," Gibbs said after cleaning his hand, observing the abused hole with an eye for serious damage.
"Mmhmm," he nodded, breathlessly.
"You all right?" Gibbs asked, some concern in his voice, when one knew what to listen for.
"Uh, yeah." Tony lowered himself a bit, unlocking his stiff elbows, and turned his head to look behind him. Gibbs was naked, of course. Still behind him. Still very hard.
His eyes widened, "Uh, Boss, I don't - I'm, I'm sore . . ."
"Well yeah, DiNozzo."
Tony licked his dry, swollen lips, not wanting to outright say what he feared. He couldn't take his eyes off of Gibbs' cock, the pain of his hole blazing brighter with any hint of movement.
Gibbs looked at Tony's apprehensive face, then down to his own erection, and laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you take my cock right now. I'll take care of it myself."
Tony sighed in relief, and Gibbs reached out to rub the small of his back, lightly, then helped him lay flat on his stomach. He clenched his teeth as he straightened his legs, his hole protesting the movement. God, he was going to hurt for days.
Gibbs stood beside the bed, looking at him, then bent down to kiss him. An awkward sideways kiss, passionate and gentle.
"You're mine, DiNozzo," he stated, looking down into the sweat-covered face.
"I know, Boss," he smiled.
Author's Chapter Notes:
DiNozzo was used to associating Gibbs and pain ... (written for kink_bingo prompt 'painplay')