So this fic came from a post here: http:/community(dot)/gibbs_dinozzo/577678(dot)html and this picture linked in the post. This does not belong in the Taken universe.

Two caveats: Yes, I know the hair in the picture is too long for the Corp. And no, the extra room in the house isn't the one in "Rule 51."

Wet Dreams

"Are you sure it's out here?"

"Where else would it be, DiNozzo?"

"I have no idea." Tony shifted another piece of cardboard to look beneath it, not finding the basketball pump he was searching for. "But it's not out here."

"It is," Gibbs insisted, coming to stand on the steps into the garage.

"Jesus, Gibbs, it's like Dorian Gray's garage out here," Tony grumbled as he shoved an old suitcase out of the way.


Tony turned to face his boss. "You know, 'The Picture of Dorian Gray?'" A blank look. "A movie, Boss, 1945, based on the novel by Oscar Wilde." Tony moved a second old suitcase and continued. "This guy, Dorian Gray, wanted to stay young forever so he sold his soul to the Devil and his picture got old, not him. Your garage is like that. While your house stays spotless this…" Tony waived his arms to encompass the messy area, "this is the result." Tony dodged as a pile of boxes fell towards him.

"Funny, DiNozzo."

"Are you sure it's out here?" Tony asked again, lifting a cracked hose and peering under a saw horse. He looked up again at Gibbs' silence. "Boss?"

"It might be upstairs," Gibbs admitted.

Tony released the greasy tarp he was holding with a sigh. "Upstairs?"

"Yeah, just I remember I used it on the air mattress last time my dad was here," Gibbs admitted. Tony didn't move. "Go on, get it from up there," Gibbs said, glancing at his watch. "And lock up when you leave."

Tony followed Gibbs into the house and watched as he left through the front door. Taking a deep breath, Tony smiled in bemused exasperation at his boss. Gibbs was grumpy and frustrating and at times careless but to Tony he was perfect.

For Tony was in love with him. Had been for a long, long time.

Tony sometimes wondered if Gibbs knew about how Tony felt. There were times when he caught Gibbs watching him, something in the older man's eyes that showed he knew not only what Tony was thinking and feeling but approved of it. Then there were times when Tony was sure his boss was totally clueless to Tony's affection—like now. Gibbs had barely glanced at him when he'd shown up this morning with the excuse of retrieving his basketball pump for a Sunday pick up game. Tony would never admit there was no game, and that he'd left his pump here a few weeks ago for just this excuse. Tony sighed again and started climbing the stairs, wondering for the hundredth time if his boss will ever notice. He hoped so, and hoped soon—as there was no way Tony would ever say anything. Unrequited love was at least a bit better than being outright rejected. No, Tony would never take that chance.

Tony pushed open the door to Gibbs' room, looking around before tentatively crossing the threshold. He knew the pump wouldn't be in here, but couldn't resist the opportunity to look around. Casting a longing glance at the neatly made bed, Tony opened the closet door, shaking his head at the neat row of blazers, Polos and chinos all orderly arranged according to color. It was like a Sears rainbow, Tony thought fondly, running his fingers lightly along the fabrics, from dark to light and back again.

Sighing again, Tony closed the closet door and left the room, heading back down the hall. The next door to the left, he knew, was never opened so Tony didn't even stop, instead heading to the room on the other side of the bathroom to the right. He'd stayed here twice. But there had been a bed then, not the deflated air mattress that now graced the floor of the spare room. Tony wondered what happened to the bed as he opened the closet. He spied the pump on the floor, wedged behind a box that tipped out when he pulled a bit. The flaps of the box opened, spilling its contents onto the floor.

With a curse, Tony sat next to the box and flipped it right, picking up the items to repack and replace in the closet. He lifted the trophy, smiling a bit at the prize, reading the inscription. "Pvt. 1st Class L.J. Gibbs—First Place—50 Meter Medley." Eyes up, Tony realized this was a swimming trophy, one that Gibbs must have one while in the Corp. He lowered the trophy into the box and picked up a scrap of red material, eyes glued to the photograph that was lying under it.

The photograph of Gibbs. Wet Gibbs. Wet young Gibbs. Wet, young Gibbs in a Speedo. Wet young Gibbs in a skin tight Speedo.

Lust slammed into Tony at the sight of Gibbs, water dripping, Speedo tight and outlining his crotch for all to see. He stretched a tentative hand out, fingers brushing along the slick paper, his cock hard and hot and oh God…Tony's gaze went to his other hand, the soft material he was holding finally registering as the Speedo. Tony closed his eyes as the waves of sensation pulsed through him. A hand slipped down, into his sweat pants, rubbing softly along his aching cock. Squeezing a bit harder, he brought his other hand within nuzzling distance, knowing it wasn't real, he couldn't really smell Gibbs on the suit but hell, he had a good imagination.

Tony shifted a bit to lean against the wall, hand delving deeper into his sweats, pulling on his cock, rubbing the leaking fluid along its length. The Speedo was right there and he breathed deep before his mouth opened, sucking along the suit where his fingers laid under it, imagination going into overdrive. His eyes closed at the feel, his wet dreams of sucking Gibbs off coming to semi-life, thinking this might be the closest he'll ever get and take advantage of it, yes, yes he would. He moved his hips up, pulling down the sweats to expose his hard erection to the air before bringing the now wet Speedo to his cock, rubbing the damp material over himself while his other hand shifted lower to pull on his balls, twisting just a bit at the pleasure/pain that shot through his body. His breath was coming harder, panting gusts with each thrust of his cock along the wet suit along his flesh, his balls tightening until oh yes sparks flew behind his eyes and yes heat tingling heat ran up his balls to his dick and with a cry of Gibbs' name on his lips Tony comes, rubbing the semen along his shaft with the Speedo, twitching at the sensation and with a sigh Tony collapses along the wall.

"You can keep those Speedos."

Oh. God. Maybe, Tony thought, just maybe, if he kept his eyes closed, Gibbs won't really be there. Won't know what I've done. Won't know what I feel for him.


He opened his eyes, locking on the bright blue gaze of the man standing in the doorway.

Oh yeah, Gibbs knows. Knows what Tony just did, knows how Tony feels. He gulped, searching Gibbs' face. The soft smile emanating from the other man filled Tony with a sliver of hope. Gibbs knows, and from Tony can see, it's okay with him.

From the hard bulge tenting Gibbs' pants, it seems to be more than okay.

The sliver of hope grows into a sunburst of expectation as Gibbs enters the room and slowly shuts the door.