Warning: This story contains explicit male/male sex. If this kind of thing isn't to your liking, if you're underage, or if m/m sex is illegal where you are, please don't read this story. Life is far too short to be upset by things you read on the internet.

Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, I'm just playing in it. Thanks to all involved in making NCIS such a fantastic show.

Note: This fic contains a link to a Zegna tie. If you want to follow the link, this story is cross-posted to livejournal, under the username the_proofreader. Sorry I can't include a decent link here!

Gibbs eyes the slim package in Tony's hand. It's wrapped in tasteful dove grey paper, the folds crisp, with no indication it's been handled by a blind monkey with the DTs, which rules out Tony, nor any of the glitter or black ribbons that would indicate Abby'd had something to do with it. "Get the store to wrap it?"

"Boss! You wound me!" Tony protests, pressing his other hand to his chest. Under the pressure of Gibbs' raised eyebrow, he relents. "Yeah, but you need this, boss, you really do. Trust me." He brings out the smile he uses to get pretty baristas to put an extra shot of espresso in Gibbs' coffee.

Gibbs narrows his eyes.

Tony sighs. "All right. Put it this way, there's no way in hell you're wearing that, that... thing to Palmer's wedding." He flicks the offending tie with a disdainful finger.

"What's wrong with it?" Gibbs protests, hiding his amusement.

"Oh, come on, boss!" Tony's forehead is furrowed in indignation. "It isn't even your third best court tie! Abby will kill me for letting you wear it, right after she kills you for thinking that, that rag! is acceptable wedding wear! Just put this on." He shoves the package into Gibbs' hand, then tugs at the offending neckwear.

Gibbs takes a moment to admire the handsome conservative purple tie with darker diagonal stripes that graces Tony's dress shirt. "Fine. But you owe me."

"Hey!" Tony protests. "Have you any idea how much-" he breaks off and takes a deep breath. "Fine. Just put the damn tie on."

Gibbs slides a finger under the tape, pulls out the long strip of silk. It feels so good that for a moment the color doesn't register. Then he rears back, holding the tie out like a poisonous snake. "What the hell were you thinking, DiNozzo?"

Tony tuts, takes the tie from him and, lightning-quick, has it round his neck. "I was thinking that I wanted my boss to show his respect for the people he works with." He wraps the narrow end round and round, feeds it up behind, then down and through, pulling the knot tight. "I was thinking I wanted to look at the wedding photos and not have everyone wondering how come I let the most important person in my life wear clothes I wouldn't even donate to Goodwill." He grins suddenly, like sunshine breaking through clouds. "And I was thinking you can wear it next time you're in a meeting with Fornell. It'll kill him to not be able to bring it up."

Gibbs knows when he's beaten, at least, if he doesn't want to spend the night on the couch. He rolls his eyes. "At least I don't have to look at it."

"I'll do all the looking for you," Tony beams. "Come on, or we'll be late." He crooks his elbow in invitation.

Gibbs snorts and heads for the door, ignoring it. "You just want to take it off me," he growls as they head outside.

"You betcha!" Tony bounces after him, and privately, though he'd spend a month being tortured before he'd admit it, Gibbs thinks that maybe this fashion thing is worth it.