xanthefic | Fic: Two Masters

Two Masters
By Xanthe
Part Twenty-One

The following day Gibbs woke Tony early, and then surprised him by throwing clothes at him again, for the second day running.

"Is it my birthday or something?" Tony grinned, holding up the jeans and his favourite blue sweater. "I get to run around without my ass hanging out for two days in a row?"

Gibbs fondled said ass on his way to the bathroom. "I like your ass hanging out – makes it available for whatever I wanna do to it."

"So why the clothes?" Tony called after him.

"'Cause you have more visitors, DiNozzo," Gibbs replied.

Tony had no idea who to expect this time, but half an hour later two old friends arrived.

Mulder walked into the living room, took one look at Tony’s multi-hued face, and grinned. “You’ve been an idiot,” he said.

Tony made a face at him. "I wish people would stop saying that."

"It's true though," Gibbs grunted.

Walter stepped over to him and looked at him searchingly for a few moments. Tony wilted under that solemn, brown-eyed gaze.

"You *have* been an idiot," Walter said sternly.

"Yeah. I know," Tony muttered.

"But Jethro's taken care of it." Walter pulled Tony into an unexpected hug. Then he released him and shot a grin at Mulder. "Reminds me of the old days – taking care of you after you did something stupid. You were a full-time job back then. Still are sometimes, although I think I've managed to spank some sense into you."

Mulder rolled his eyes. "There's no reason to bring up the bad old days, Master. C’mon, Tony - let's get moving before Walter starts reminiscing, or we'll be here all day."

"We're going somewhere?" Tony asked, startled, as Walter put an arm around him and began ushering him towards the door. Tony looked back over his shoulder at his dom. He suddenly noticed that Gibbs was wearing a suit – and Gibbs never wore a suit unless he was due in court or in a meeting with Secnav. "You coming with us, Boss?"

"Nope." Gibbs shook his head. "I have someplace else to be today, Tony. Rest of the week is all yours though," he added quickly. "Trust me?"

Tony bit on his lip and then nodded. "Yes, Boss. So…" He turned back to Walter and Mulder. "Where are we going?"

"Shopping," Walter announced. "Clothes, shoes – I know this great tailor I want to introduce you to, Tony. I figure you're the kind of guy who appreciates the finer things in life."

"Really? Cool!" Tony was delighted. "Jethro avoids shopping like the plague – although if he'd ever actually *had* the plague, he might realise that shopping isn't so bad in comparison."

"I'm with Gibbs on this," Mulder said. "I can't believe there's someone else in the world who likes going to see a tailor as much as Walter does. It's insane."

"I'll see you later, Tony." Gibbs took hold of his face and dropped a light kiss on his mouth. "Have a good day."

Tony watched his dom disappear out of the front door. "Could we buy some stuff for him?" he asked Walter mournfully. "I mean, he's a great guy, don't get me wrong, but did you see the cut of that suit?"

Walter laughed out loud. "You're a man after my own heart, Tony," he said, ushering Tony out of the door.

"When we're finished with the shopping – which can't be a moment too soon as far as I'm concerned," Mulder said with a shudder. "Walter is taking us to the Hoover Building to look at this case he's overseeing."

"A case?" Tony looked up, surprised.

"Yeah – I could use some 'outside the box' type thinking on this one, and…" Walter paused, and gazed at the two subs with a glint in his dark eyes. "Well, they don't come much more outside the box than you two."

Tony grinned; this was shaping up to be an extremely good day. Good company, good shopping, and people he didn't have to pretend with. The only downside was that he wouldn't see Gibbs all day – and he had absolutely no idea where his dom had gone.

~*~

Gibbs sat in the lobby at DiNozzo Holdings, pretending to read his newspaper. At 1 p.m. sharp, he saw the owner of the company emerge from the elevator, deep in conversation with two men.

Gibbs studied DiNozzo senior over the top of his newspaper. If he hadn't had McGee pull up some photographs, he wouldn't have known this man was Tony's father. He couldn't see much of his sub in this big man with the crop of thinning white hair and the wide, bullish jaw.

Gibbs got up, leaving his newspaper behind on his seat, and followed his quarry out into the street. He caught up with the three men a block away from the office and moved up alongside them. Then he reached out and gripped DiNozzo's arm - hard. He turned, a startled look on his face.

"Mr. DiNozzo? I'm Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs from NCIS," Gibbs said pleasantly, with just a hint of steel in his voice.

DiNozzo looked surprised. "Agent Gibbs? NCIS? Is this about my son?"

"Yup."

"Is he okay?"

Gibbs searched for a sign of genuine concern in the man's eyes, and thought he saw it, but with a big, bluff businessman like DiNozzo Snr, it was hard to tell. At least the man had asked the right question.

"He will be if I have anything to do with it," Gibbs responded curtly. "I believe you have a reservation at an Italian restaurant on the next block?"

"How do you know that?" DiNozzo demanded.

"I'm an investigator, Mr. DiNozzo. It’s what I do." Gibbs gave a deceptive smile. He gestured at his suit. "I hope we're eating at Marcello's because I dressed for somewhere classy."

DiNozzo looked confused. "You're having lunch with us?"

"No. I'm having lunch with you. The flunkies can disappear." Gibbs glared at the two men with Tony's father. DiNozzo senior bristled angrily at his tone.

"The hell they can! Look, Agent Gibbs, if you want a meeting with me, then you can damn well make an appointment like anyone else!"

"I tried – yesterday," Gibbs replied. "Apparently your calendar is full for the next three months. I asked to be put through to you, but your secretary guards you closely, Mr. DiNozzo. And this wasn’t something I wanted to leave a message about."

"Do you want us to call office security, sir?" one of the flunkies asked, looking at Gibbs nervously.

"Go ahead." Gibbs grinned at them. "I just want a quiet word with you about some injuries your son sustained as a child, Mr. DiNozzo. But if that's a conversation you'd prefer to have in public, that's fine by me."

All the blood drained instantly from DiNozzo's face. "I'll answer your questions, Agent Gibbs," he said quietly. "Go back to the office," he ordered his people. The flunkies didn't need telling twice, and they melted away without a word.

Gibbs kept his tight grip on DiNozzo's arm as they walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in a grim silence. Gibbs almost hoped the man would try and make a run for it – he'd enjoy chasing after him and landing a punch or two.

DiNozzo didn't make a move though. They were greeted at the restaurant by the Maitre'd, who was clearly expecting him.

"A table for three, wasn't it, Senor DiNozzo?"

"Just two now," DiNozzo growled. "And make it somewhere private, Mario."

They were ushered into the back of the restaurant. Gibbs sat down and watched DiNozzo take his seat. The man was big – he hated the thought of him towering over a young Tony, punching and kicking him in a haze of drunken abuse. Gibbs clenched his fists and reeled himself back in.

DiNozzo ordered a brandy; Gibbs just ordered mineral water. The brandy arrived, and DiNozzo downed it all in one gulp and then ordered another.

"What's this about, Agent Gibbs?" he demanded. “Has something happened to Tony?"

"Yeah - he got beat up pretty bad a few days ago."

He saw something he hadn't expected in the other man's eyes – concern maybe?

"You said he'd be okay?" DiNozzo asked. The replacement brandy arrived, and he took a substantial gulp.

"Yeah. He will. He always bounces back after a beating - but I figure you know that already."

DiNozzo winced. He finished the second brandy and looked at Gibbs, his eyes dark.

"Okay, Agent Gibbs, you can stop toying with me. What do you want from me? Does Tony know you're here? Did he send you?"

"No, Tony doesn’t know I’m here, and he sure as hell didn’t send me. I’m here to try and figure out what to do about you. See, I have a thing about justice. It’s why I joined NCIS. I don’t like to see people walk away from their crimes unpunished.”

“That’s what you think I did? Walk away unpunished?”

“Didn’t you?” Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Do you deny what you did to Tony after his mom died?”

DiNozzo drew out a handkerchief and wiped it over his forehead. “You’re talking about…”

“I’m talking about you using him as punching bag, yeah,” Gibbs growled. “Christ, he was just a child! How the hell could you do that to your own son?"

DiNozzo's eyes flashed. "You don't know anything about it."

"You're wrong – I know everything. Tony kept your nasty little secret for a long time, but he finally spilled to me. He told me how you used to get drunk and then go yell at him and beat up on him night after night for months on end.”

DiNozzo mopped his brow again, with shaking hands. "It was the drink. I was drinking far too much back then."

"Still are," Gibbs retorted, jerking his head meaningfully at the empty glass on the table.

DiNozzo shook his head. "No – I drink hard, all the men in my family do, but it's not the same. I was never sober back then. It was a dark time. I wouldn't expect you to understand. Nobody could. I'd just lost my wife, and…"

"Before you go any further – *you* have to understand this." Gibbs leaned forward. "I lost my wife in a car wreck too, so don't try and bullshit me. I *will* see through you."

DiNozzo gave him a startled look. “I didn’t know that. Tony never said. I’m sorry. Look, I deserve the way you're looking at me right now, Agent Gibbs, but you have to understand how it was."

"I do understand how it was. Tony had been in a serious car accident - he had a broken arm, and he’d just lost his mom. He was in shock, he was grieving, and he was just a kid. He’d only just turned eleven years old for Christ’s sake! And instead of being there for him, to help him through all that, you turned around and beat up on him instead. That part I’ll never be able to understand, DiNozzo.”

The other man’s hands were trembling where they were still clutching his handkerchief. "I know, I know. I can understand your anger, Gibbs. The truth is that I blamed Tony for his mother's death.”

"Yeah, he told me. And hey – guess what? He blames himself too."

"He still does? After all this time?" DiNozzo looked surprised.

"Did you ever tell him any different?"

"No." DiNozzo shook his head. "I didn't want to bring up that time – that terrible time. Tony seemed to get over it. He…well, you know what he's like, always joking around. He's so like his mom." His voice broke a little as he said that, and he grabbed Gibbs's glass of water and took a gulp.

"I took a look at the police report of your wife's accident," Gibbs said, leaning forward. "The brake pads on the car were in poor condition. Business wasn't going so well for you back then, so the car hadn't been serviced in a while."

DiNozzo sat there, as if he'd been turned into stone. "The police report? How the hell did you…?"

Gibbs gave a dismissive jerk of his head. "NCIS. I can get hold of things like that."

DiNozzo nodded. "You're right. We were struggling financially. We could only afford to keep Tony in that damn school because his aunt paid for it."

"You never told Tony about the brakes on the car?" Gibbs asked.

DiNozzo took another gulp of the water.

"You didn’t, did you?" Gibbs slammed his hand angrily on the table, making the man jump.

"No! No, I didn't."

"You let that poor kid blame himself," Gibbs growled. "All those years, you let him blame himself, even though it wasn't his fault."

"I told you – I didn't want to bring the subject up again. I thought it was better if we put it behind us and moved on."

"Better for who? You or him?" Gibbs sat back, a derisive sneer on his lips.

"You think you know how it was, but you don't," DiNozzo snapped, clearly stung by the accusation. "Tony and I weren’t close before the accident. I loved him very much, but he and his mom were like an exclusive little club, and I wasn’t part of it.”

“You were jealous of your own son?” Gibbs asked, in disbelief.

“No! But he was turning into a mommy's boy. I used to worry that he might grow up…not one of us. Y'know? Thought he might turn out queer."

Gibbs laughed out loud at that.

"Back in those days it wasn't as accepted as it is now," DiNozzo hissed, in an agonised tone. "I wanted the best for the boy, but he didn’t need me – he only ever wanted his mother."

"You’re his father!" Gibbs leaned forward, feeling angrier than ever. "Of course he damn well needed you. Do you know that he used to go down to your study when you were drunk, sit down on the couch beside you, and put your arm around his shoulder to pretend you were giving him some affection?”

"He…he told you that? He did that?" DiNozzo crumpled, visibly, taking Gibbs by surprise. "I didn't know,” he whispered hoarsely.

"You were too damn drunk to know."

"Yes." DiNozzo nodded. "I don't deny it. After my wife died, I was constantly drunk for six months."

"Do you even remember beating up on Tony?"

DiNozzo gazed down at the table.

"Or were you too drunk to remember?" Gibbs demanded.

DiNozzo raised his head, his eyes dark with shame. "I saw the bruises on him, but I didn't want to admit that it was me who had put them there. I told myself he'd hurt himself playing around – you know, the way kids do. Climbing trees – he spent a lot of time doing that. Probably to get away from me. I’m horrified by what I did, Gibbs, you have to believe that."

Gibbs sat back in his chair and surveyed DiNozzo thoughtfully. He had been negligent, abusive and weak, but he knew what he’d done, and he was ashamed of it. That at least answered one of his questions about the man.

"I kept him out of school. Pretended he was being home-schooled – but in reality he just ran wild during those six months. So there was nobody to see the bruises on him - nobody except me."

DiNozzo ran a shaky hand through his hair again. "And I did see them, Agent Gibbs…and one day I woke up, and found he had a black eye and a split lip. That's when I couldn't keep pretending any more. I sobered up pretty damn quick."

"What did you do?"

"I sent him away. Made some calls, got him into a military academy."

"You damn coward," Gibbs said coldly.

"I thought I was doing the right thing!” DiNozzo protested. “I was trying to protect him. I thought I was keeping him safe, getting him out of harm’s way.”

"You beat up on him every night for months on end, called him names, told him he was the cause of his mom's death, and then one day you just sent him away? And you think that was the right thing? The right thing would have been to man up and take some responsibility. The right thing would have been for you to sit down and apologise to the kid and try to make amends. The right thing would have been to not let him go through his life thinking he killed his mom. Christ, you’re a piece of work.”

So much of Tony's personality made total sense now. Gibbs wished he could grab his sub, hold him close, and never let him go.

DiNozzo's jaw tightened – Gibbs guessed he wasn't used to being challenged.

“Those are hard words, Agent Gibbs.”

“Do you deny them?”

“I thought I was doing it for the best. I couldn't trust myself to be around him. He looks so much like his mom – he was a constant reminder of what I'd lost.

"Sending him away might have got him out of the reach of your fists, but he just thought you'd rejected him.”

“I tried to make it up to him! I spoiled him later – gave him far too much money for awhile, until it became clear it was having a bad effect on him. I offered him a place in the business when he was older, but he wasn’t interested. He didn’t get along with my second wife – there were blazing arguments. He wasn’t an easy teenager, Gibbs.”

“I’m not surprised,” Gibbs grunted. “So you thought disowning him would bring him back into line?”

“He was spending my money like it was water. All he thought about were girls, parties and cars. I didn’t want him turning into a spoilt brat.”

“Maybe he was trying to get your attention?” Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “Or get back at you for how you’d treated him? Did you ever think of that? How did you respond?”

DiNozzo’s eyes flickered in annoyance. “I sent him away to stay with his mom’s family in England.”

Gibbs gave a bitter bark of laughter. “Ah. So he learned that if he screwed up, he either got kicked around or sent away?” Tony’s two dead-end options suddenly came into focus with stark clarity.

“He was heading towards the gutter! I tried to pull him around before it was too late! How would raking up the past, talking about his mom’s death, and opening up any of those old wounds have helped him?” DiNozzo snapped.

“They never damn well healed!” Gibbs slammed his fist down on the table again, making DiNozzo blink in surprise. “Those old wounds never healed. They’re still there.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” DiNozzo demanded. “I tried to help him, but he made his choices. He rejected me and the business. He went his own way.”

“Do you blame him?”

DiNozzo’s jaw clicked angrily. They were silent for awhile.

"So what are you going to do?" DiNozzo asked eventually. "I'm a wealthy man. There's some mileage in this if you wanted to go public with it."

"How the hell would that help Tony?" Gibbs growled.

“Does Tony need any help?” DiNozzo looked surprised. “He sounds fine when I talk to him. He loves his job – he talks about you all the time when he calls.”

“He does?” It was Gibbs’s turn to be surprised.

“Hell yes. It’s all ‘Gibbs this’ and ‘Gibbs that’. He has a serious case of hero worship.” There was a note of bitterness in his voice.

“Yeah, well, I guess his dad wasn’t much of a role model.” Gibbs intended the barb to hit home, and it did. DiNozzo’s eyes flashed angrily again.

"Look, I pulled myself around, Agent Gibbs. I went through a bad patch, and I did some things that I regret. But I cut back on the drinking, I got Tony out of harm's way, and I made my company a big success. I give myself credit for that.”

"Well, I'm glad you give yourself credit," Gibbs told him coldly. "Now give your son some credit for surviving the many ways in which you fucked him up.”

“What do you want from me? You want me to make amends somehow? Is that why you’re here?”

“You think you can?” Gibbs leaned forward. “Because Tony needs to hear something from you that he won't hear from me. Think you can do it?”

“I’m not the coward you think I am!”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, and DiNozzo looked like he wanted to slap him.

“Do you even have it in you to be humble, DiNozzo?” Gibbs demanded. “Can you forget that Tony is a disappointment to you, that you disapprove of the choices he’s made in his life, and that you resent that he’s never given you the respect you think you deserve? Can you put all that aside and remember the child you punched and kicked and yelled abuse at for six long months? Can you do that? Can you talk to that child and not the adult son who pisses you off so much in so many different ways?”

DiNozzo glared at him.

“You admit you did wrong. Now - are you man enough to do something about it?” Gibbs asked. “You think about it. If you think you can do it – if you think you can put aside all the other crap and just tell him what he needs to hear, then call me.” He threw his card down on the table. “In the meantime, if you try and contact Tony you’ll answer to me – and trust me, you won’t like that very much. We're done here. You enjoy your lunch.”

And with that, he got up and stalked out of the restaurant. He went to a nearby park and banged his hand against a tree a couple of times until he started to feel less like throttling someone. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

"Hey, Boss," Tony's cheerful voice answered. "Nice timing. We're buying shoes. What size are you again?"

Gibbs laughed out loud. God, it was good to hear his sub's voice.

"Thought Walter was going to get your help on a case?"

"Yeah – he is. We kind of got side-tracked by the shoes. Mulder's leaning against the wall looking like he'd rather be mauled by tigers. It's the same expression you always get when I mention going shopping, Boss – although obviously in your case it's the tigers who end up getting mauled. Hey – where are you, Boss? What you doing?"

"I'm on my way home," Gibbs told him firmly. "I'll pick you up at the Hoover building later."

He closed the cell phone with a smile. Talking to Tony was guaranteed to soothe him out of a bad mood.

He called Tony again when he got back to DC, but Tony was having a great time at the Hoover Building so he left him there and went into the office for a couple of hours to check on how much of a mess McGee was making of things in his absence.

He was just thinking of leaving when his cell phone rang.

“Gibbs?” He recognised the voice immediately. He hadn’t expected to hear from Tony’s father so soon, and he stiffened, wondering what the man had to say. “I’ve been thinking about everything you said,” DiNozzo continued. “And I have an answer for you.”

~*~

Gibbs seemed to be in a serious mood when he picked Tony up. He was distracted, like there was something on his mind. Tony was used to his dom being a man of few words but this seemed like more than that. He wondered where the hell Gibbs had been all day.

Tony threw his bags into the trunk of the car and got in beside Gibbs.

“Hey - you’ll like this – I saw Fornell while I was at the FBI this afternoon,” Tony said, trying to get a reaction out of his dom.

Gibbs frowned. “Aw, hell, Walter promised me he’d keep you two apart. You didn’t piss Fornell off, did you?”

“Moi? Of course I damn well did, Jethro! No fun in being the guest of the Deputy Director of the FBI if I couldn’t make some mileage out of taunting poor old Tobias.”

“What did you do?”

Tony grinned. “I told him that Walter had *personally* asked for my help on this case, because his own people were making such a crap job of it. As Fornell is heading up the investigation, he wasn’t too happy about that.”

“Ya think, DiNozzo?” Gibbs turned to glare at him.

“Fornell will probably be calling you at some point. Uh…he might want to make a complaint about me.”

“I’m used to it,” Gibbs sighed.

“So – how was your day?” Tony asked cautiously.

“It was fine. What the hell is in all those bags you threw in the trunk, Tony? ‘Cause we’re running out of closet space.”

“Yeah, but I figure one of the perks of having a dom who can make boats and, uh, *certain* items of furniture, is that he can also build us a new closet if we need one.” Tony winked.

They arrived home, and Gibbs helped him take the bags upstairs.

“You gotta see this stuff…” Tony began opening up one of the bags. “Look at these!” He pulled out a pair of glossy, honey-coloured shoes. Gibbs caught the price tag.

“$695? You paid nearly seven hundred bucks for a pair of shoes, DiNozzo?”

“Not just ANY shoes, Gibbs! These are a pair of Tanino Crisci originals! Did you know that Crisci only makes 25,000 pairs of shoes a year? And they only retail in ten stores around the world?”

“How did you get hold of this pair then?”

“Ah,” Tony tapped his nose infuriatingly. “Walter’s tailor, Elliott, is *really* good. He knows people who know people.”

Gibbs was staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

“Moving on then…” Tony pulled a pair of black leather pants out of another bag. “What do you think?” He held them up.

“Waste of money.” Gibbs shrugged.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not wearing pants like that out in public.”

“Oh - they’re not for me.” Tony grinned.

Gibbs glowered at him. “DiNozzo, do I have to check you for concussion again? ‘Cause if you think I’m going out to some club dressed in those…”

“Not any club – Murray’s. Saturday night. It’s Walter’s birthday, and he’s having a party there. No theme. Just, you know, regular fetish wear. We’re invited.”

“No.” Gibbs shook his head firmly.

“You’d look good. All the subby boys will fall at your feet and kiss your boots.”

“I’ve already got one to do that, and Christ knows, one’s enough.” Gibbs grinned.

“I bought a shirt to go with the pants. Okay, when I say ‘shirt’, it’s really more of a harness thing, but…”

“No.”

Gibbs sat down on the bed, and Tony was aware of his dom watching him, an amused, fond look in his eyes. There was something different about him, something that Tony couldn’t place. He was looking at Tony in a way that was both protective and predatory.

“How about this then? Thought you could use a new work shirt.” Tony held up the deep purple shirt.

“Purple?” Gibbs raised an eyebrow. “People will look at me like I’ve gone nuts.

“Hah! No - people will look at you like they want to jump your bones – which is how most people look at you anyway, although I doubt you’ve noticed. How about this?” Tony pulled another shirt out of the bag, in a more acceptable shade of navy blue.

“Hmmm.”

Gibbs was still looking at him in that intent way. Tony unpacked an array of shirts, pants, jackets, ties, and shoes, holding them all up for inspection. Gibbs barely seemed to look at any of them. He just made a muttered ‘uh-huh’ kind of sound as Tony held up each garment. He kept his gaze directed at Tony, and there was always that strange look in his eyes.

“I don’t want you to think I just got stuff for myself – and you.” Tony grinned. “I bought presents for Walter and Mulder too. They’ve been really good friends to us since all this – you, me – started. They were so cool today.”

“What did you buy them?”

“Got a money clip for Walter, saying ‘World’s Best Dad’, which is kind of an in-joke between us, ‘cause when we first met I thought he looked like Daddy Warbucks from the movie 'Annie', and you know how he’s always trying to take care of people, like he’s everyone’s dad,” Tony babbled. He was a little freaked out by the expression on Gibbs’s face. He was looking at him like he could see into Tony’s soul and knew every little demon that lurked inside.

“And that’s what dads do, is it? Take good care of you?” Gibbs’s raised eyebrow was uncompromising.

Tony put down the bag he was holding. “Not always, no,” he replied quietly. "Just…in my head, that's the way it should be."

"Yeah. I know. C’mere,” Gibbs said suddenly, holding out his hand.

Tony took the hand, and Gibbs pulled him onto his lap. It felt weird to be sitting in his dom’s lap like this, two grown men, but Gibbs pulled his face down and kissed him gently on the lips, and Tony relaxed into the embrace. If this was how his dom wanted him, that was fine by him.

“Everything okay, Boss?” Tony asked.

Gibbs rested his forehead against his sub’s. “Everything’s fine. I just wanna…” He pushed Tony off his lap and onto the bed. “Just wanna play with my sub’s body,” he murmured, looking down on Tony.

Tony gazed up at him. He’d never seen Gibbs in such an unguarded moment before, and he was stunned by the depth of love and affection he saw in his dom’s eyes. Gibbs brushed Tony’s hair off his forehead, and then he ran a gentle finger down Tony’s face, ending up at his lips. Tony sucked the finger into his mouth, never taking his eyes off Gibbs, fascinated by the expression in his eyes. He’d had girlfriends who proclaimed to love him before, but none of them had ever looked at him like *this*. Gibbs had never said the actual words to him, but Tony was beginning to understand that with Gibbs, actions always spoke louder than words.

Gibbs withdrew the finger and began unbuttoning Tony’s shirt.

“You sure you’re okay?” Tony asked.

“Ssh.” Gibbs undressed him slowly, like he was some kind of precious parcel. This wasn’t like Gibbs, who usually barked out a terse “strip!” whenever he wanted his sub naked. Tony lay there, looking up at his dom, puzzled. Gibbs opened his shirt to reveal his torso. He dipped his head and sucked gently at Tony’s nipples until they stood up in two aroused points.

Gibbs unzipped Tony’s jeans and released his hardening cock. He eased Tony out of the rest of his clothes, kissing and caressing him gently as he went. When he was done, he removed his own clothes, quickly, and then turned back to his sub’s naked body.

He made love to Tony like he’d never made love to him before. There was a look of such sweetness in his eyes, combined with an expression of such loving intent that it made Tony shiver. Gibbs’s mouth, his tongue, and his fingertips went everywhere, roving over Tony’s body with a loving ease.

He teased Tony for what felt like hours, nipping his skin, sucking on it and licking it. He blew little caresses over the surface of Tony’s body and tickled him with the very tips of his fingernails, making Tony laugh and squirm and sigh.

“Am I allowed to use my safe word for tickling?” Tony gurgled, wriggling as Gibbs pitter-pattered out a staccato rhythm on his belly.

“If you want…” Gibbs sucked a line from Tony’s navel to his groin and then blew on the wet surface of his flesh. It felt sublime.

Tony sighed. “No…I don’t want…but that’s…ohhh…”

It was amazing. It felt like Gibbs was making love to every inch of his body. He didn’t leave any part of it un-tasted, un-kissed, or un-touched. Tony lost himself in the tenderness, in the incredible sensations, and, most of all, in his dom’s expression of total love as he worked on his sub.

When Gibbs finally sank his cock into Tony’s body Tony cried out in pleasure, and he came in time to the feel of his dom’s slick hand on his cock, and his dom’s long, slow, loving thrusts into his body.

Afterwards they lay there, entwined in each other’s arms, sweat cooling on their bodies.

“How long…?” Tony paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “Uh…how long did we just spend uh, doing that? Whatever that was?”

“Hours. Good?” Gibbs caressed his face lightly.

“Good? It was amazing. Nobody has ever…” He didn’t know the words to describe it. Nobody had ever made love to him like that before, as if they really *meant* it. Suddenly he understood why it was called ‘making love’, because it felt like that was what Gibbs had just done to him, for hours on end. “Why?” he asked quietly.

Gibbs turned and gazed at him. “Want ya to know how I feel about you. Not always good with the words. Thought I’d show you instead.”

Usually Tony would make a smart-assed remark to deflect from any intense emotional situation, but that didn’t seem appropriate right now

“Love you too, Jethro,” Tony said softly.

Gibbs gave him a smile so breathtakingly intimate that it made Tony’s heart skip a beat.

“So what did you buy for Mulder?” Gibbs asked, resting his hand on Tony’s ass. Tony raised a tired eyebrow. "You said you got a gift for Walter *and* Mulder?"

“Oh…right…yeah! I got him a belt. Okay, so technically I bought the belt for Walter – it was sleek black leather, really nice quality, with this shiny silver buckle…but I really bought it for Mulder – thought he might enjoy how it felt on his bare butt.” He grinned at his dom conspiratorially as he said that. “Talking of which…” He hesitated. He didn’t want this to come out the wrong way.

“Mmm?” Gibbs stroked his ass cheek lightly.

“You haven’t spanked me since I told you about what happened with Dad,” Tony said quietly. “You said it was part of punishment detail, and you spanked me on Saturday, but after I told you…you stopped. And you haven’t done it since.”

He looked into Gibbs’s eyes, to find them dark and thoughtful.

“It’s not the same, y’know,” Tony said. “I like the spanking, Jethro. I liked it when you slapped my head all these years too. I like how it makes me feel. Damn it, I can’t believe I’m trying to talk myself into more spankings.” He grinned at Gibbs, but Gibbs didn’t smile back.

“You like it because it feels like punishment?” Gibbs asked.

“No,” Tony said honestly. “I like it because it makes me go kinda tingly inside. I like how it feels to know you can do that to me. I like it when you throw me over your knee and slowly warm my ass with your hand.”

“You like the paddle, the strap, the whip and the cane the same way?”

Tony shook his head. “No. Some are harder to take than others. I like the marks the cane gives me, and I like the way you can make me fly with the whip. I don’t say I understand it, but I like taking the things you hand out. It arouses me…it’s different to that night in the spare room, when you strapped me because I asked you to. That was about slaying the demons…but the other stuff – that’s about sex, Jethro. That’s about what makes you and me us – what makes it work. Even when I don't like the actual spanking, I like how it makes me feel inside. The act of surrendering to it, even though it's hard sometimes, turns me on. I don’t know how to explain it better than that.”

“Okay.” Gibbs leaned over and kissed him.

“You gonna start up again?”

“When I’m ready.”

“You need a safe word?” Tony grinned. “Hey, what would you choose as your safe word? I’m thinking something personal – like ‘semper fi’.”

“That’s two words.”

“Or ‘sniper’.”

“That’s just dumb.”

“So where *did* you go today?” Tony thought he’d timed that just right. He’d seen Gibbs run enough interrogations to know you slipped in the sucker punch when your opponent was least expecting it.

Gibbs wasn’t a rookie though, to be lured into that kind of trap. He looked at Tony steadily, his hand resting firmly on Tony’s ass, his thumb stroking gently over the bare skin.

“I went to see your father,” he said.

~*~

Tony stiffened beside him. Gibbs kept his hand where it was, stroking Tony’s ass the entire time.

"I said I'd take care of it, Tony. You had to know I'd do something."

"Yeah. I know what you're like. What did you say to him?" Tony looked resigned rather than angry, as if knew this was necessary, even though he wasn't happy to be facing the reality of it.

"I wanted to find out what kind of man he was. Not your view of him – my own."

"Bet he fucking loved you." Tony sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"Yeah – you could say we locked horns."

Tony managed a faint grin. "I am totally seeing that mental image."

Gibbs sat up too. He watched as Tony ran his hands through his hair, clearly struggling to deal with this news.

"So, you talked about me?"

"Well, yeah, DiNozzo. That was kind of the point."

"And about *it*?"

"Yes." Gibbs nodded.

"And?" Tony looked at him sideways.

"He wants to see you."

"No," Tony said immediately.

"Yes," Gibbs said implacably. "You're mine now, remember, Tony, and so is this. You gave it up to me."

"I don't…I can't…"

"There's something he needs to say to you – and something you need to hear. I wouldn't have agreed to it if I wasn't very sure about what it is he wants to say."

"You don't understand. We have never, ever talked about it. Not even when it happened. He used to look at me some mornings like he was *surprised* I was covered in bruises, but he never once said a word to me about them."

"Maybe he was too drunk to remember giving them to you."

Tony gazed at his own hands moodily. "Then one day he just sent me away. No warning – just told me I was going to military academy the following day so to pack my stuff. It never happened again after that, but I always wondered if it might. I thought that maybe if I annoyed him enough he'd take a swing at me again, and as I got older I even wanted him to so I could punch him back. But he never did."

"Bet you had some fun trying to bait him into it though," Gibbs grunted.

"Yeah." Tony gave a little grin. "I was a nightmare. Must have driven him insane. I’ve taken a perverse kind of pleasure in being a disappointment to him all these years."

"You want to hurt him, the way he hurt you."

"Probably." Tony shrugged. "It's a complicated, fucked up relationship, Gibbs. I don't think one meeting is gonna mend it."

"It isn't," Gibbs agreed. "I don't know that you and he can ever be close – or if you'd want to be. This isn't about giving you a relationship with him that you've never had. This is about one thing and one thing only."

"What?" Tony raised an eyebrow.

"Forgiveness."

"What the hell makes you think I can *ever* forgive him?" Tony asked bitterly.

"Not you forgiving him – I don't give a damn about him," Gibbs growled. "No, this is about you forgiving yourself."

Tony stared at him blankly, his green eyes glassy. Gibbs leaned forward and squeezed his shoulder.

"I'll come with you. I'll be there. You won't be doing this alone."

Tony gazed at him for a long time, and Gibbs knew he was struggling with the trust issue again. He sat there, still squeezing firmly on Tony's shoulder, waiting for his sub to finish freaking out and come back to him. It took a few minutes, but then, finally, it happened. Tony released a long sigh and nodded.

"Where and when?" he asked quietly.

"Tomorrow. Lunchtime. He's coming to DC – said we'd meet him at the Mayflower restaurant at 1 p.m."

"Does he know about us?" Tony asked curiously. "Does he know that you tie up his son and fuck his brains out on a daily basis?"

"Hell no! This isn't about us, Tony. It's about you and him. If you wanna tell him about us another time then fine. That's your choice. But not tomorrow."

"He won't like it. He hates queers." Tony hunched his shoulders.

"I don't give a damn what he likes or hates," Gibbs growled. "He's a man who regularly beat up on his kid. I don't give a flying fuck about his opinion on our sex life. That's not an issue tomorrow anyway. Just hear what he has to say."

"Okay." Tony nodded. Then he gave Gibbs a little grin. "Would'a loved to be a fly on a wall when you met him today."

“Yeah…I bet you would.” Gibbs put his hand in Tony's hair, pulled his sub towards him, and kissed him.

"Come back to bed. It's late."

Tony lay down beside him, and Gibbs pulled him close and slung an arm over him to keep him there. Tony rested his chin on Gibbs's shoulder and they both lay there, eyes wide open.

Somehow, Gibbs didn’t think they’d be getting much sleep tonight.

~*~

End of Part Twenty-One
Two Masters - Part Twenty-Two