"There's one thing I want to know, Gibbs."

"And what's that, Tony?" Gibbs sounds calm; reasonable, even, which has to be a warning sign.

Tony licks at dry lips and Gibbs watches that fast, furtive swipe with another layer of calm tacked down over the rest, but Tony can see through them all, always could (that's why he's here, he supposes, his back against a basement wall, the scent of sawdust tickling his nose), and he knows Gibbs liked him doing that.

"Do you fuck the way you drive?"

"How do I drive?" Gibbs sounds curious and he's smiling; the placid quirk of his lips that's just a cover for what he's really thinking.

"Fast. Dangerous. Sometimes I throw up when it's over."

Gibbs purses his mouth and seems to give the question more consideration than Tony thinks it deserves. "No, I don't think so."

"Or maybe you do it like the way you smack my head?" Tony smirks at him, finding his courage because he knows Gibbs likes that even better than making him nervous, unsure. "And before you ask, that would be fast and painful and often humiliating."

"No." Gibbs' eyes hold his gaze steadily. "I won't hurt you, Tony."

"Shame," Tony whispers into the dry, cool air. "I bet you'd be really good at it."

"Yes. I am." There's a world of regret in the words and Tony knows they're not talking about a walk on the wild side with a spank me, chain me, make me beg refrain.

"So how about you let me drive this one time?" Tony pushes away from the wall and lets Gibbs see what he looks like when he's flirting with a man, because yeah, different technique, different… approach. Got to let them see you've got balls, and around Gibbs, most of the time Tony's are snug and squirming in the cool cup of Gibbs' hand.

This time it's Gibbs' eyebrow that quirks. "And how do you drive, Tony?"

He bends his head and feathers a kiss over Gibbs' collarbone, exposed by the sag of a washed-to-bits T-shirt. "Like a woman."

"Come again, DiNozzo?" There's an exasperated bite to the question and no wonder. They're both so hard, standing so close. Gibbs' skin tastes salted, warm.

Tony glances up, smiling. "I don't mind asking for directions if I get lost." He feels his smile waver. "I'm feeling lost now."

Gibbs' hand finds his, guides it down until it's pressed, shaking, against the solid heat of Gibbs' erection. "I keep it the same place most men do," Gibbs says mildly. "Anything else I can help you with?"

"Think I can take it from here," Tony manages to say, and then Gibbs is against the wall and Tony's sliding down to his knees and when Gibbs' cock pushes in deep, silencing him, filling his hungry mouth, he thinks this isn't journey's end, no, not for either of them, but it's a good place to be and he likes it here.



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