Work Text:
“I hated sitting through that.” Tony groused as they finished booking all of the Tonys, Elizabeth, and the assistant. “It did really make me think, though.” He sighed, signing the forms and wincing as he resigned himself to sitting through a seminar on identity theft. Again.
“So McGee said,” Jethro replied, signing and filing his own forms. “Ya done?”
“Yeah, Boss, I’m done.” He looked up, and Gibbs must’ve seen something in his eyes, because he cocked his head toward the door and stood up, logging off.
Tony followed, like he always did, worry creasing his eyebrows. He wasn’t sure what to do. He knew he’d fucked up. And royally. “Uh, Boss…”
Gibbs turned toward him and glared, jerking his head again, and Tony shut up and followed just as if the man had said so aloud.
“See you tomo…” Tony was about to bid the man farewell when he noticed that Gibbs’ eyes narrowed, and he sighed. “Follow you to your place?” He guessed, passing the checkpoint and waving to the security guards.
Gibbs nodded, and they headed to their cars, no more words (or gestures) spoken.
He got to the house and stripped off his jacket and tie before leaving the car. Might as well get comfortable for the bitching he was pretty sure he was going to get. He stepped into the house, and Gibbs was seated on the couch, two beers on the table and his own jacket off. Beyond that, he seemed to be waiting for Tony. Great, Tony thought. Time to face the music.
He couldn’t avoid the urge to stand in parade rest, so he did. The amused snort from Gibbs surprised him. “You’ve already bitched at yourself enough, DiNozzo.” He took a swig from his beer, and gestured to the couch beside him. “Chief say somethin’ about it?”
“Oh, yes. He was disappointed. ‘Rookie mistake, Junior. Always keep your important documents stowed away safely. Don’t put them in obvious places. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve…’” Tony cut himself off. “The rest of that conversation probably would get him arrested again.” He rolled his eyes and moved to sit down beside Gibbs, taking the proffered beer, and twisting it open. “So, lay it on me.”
“Was a rookie mistake,” Gibbs began, and Tony winced. Here it comes. “But you knew that, and you’ll do better.” That wasn’t a reprimand. He’d heard enough reprimands from Gibbs to know the difference. That was an assured comment. Which was right. He would do better. “Just wonderin’ why McGee came to me wantin’ me to make sure you got some sort of encouragement.”
“Did you hear them, Jethro?” This was the crux of the matter, Tony knew. He played idly with the edge of his beer bottle. “‘You’re in the same job. The same house. The same place. You haven’t changed, grown or matured in any way whatsoever.’ I hate bringing those girls home. I hate trying to make a smokescreen. It makes me feel slimy enough talking them into it.” He shuddered. “I guess one of them decided since I was using her to con the world, she could do the same.” He pursed his lips and turned toward his boss and lover. “I keep wondering if they’re right. If I haven’t changed at all. What the hell am I doing here?” He sighed. He opened his mouth to keep talking, but Jethro had turned, and closed his mouth with a finger underneath his chin. It was a well-known gesture, and Tony pursed his lips, waiting to hear what the man would say.
“Yeah.” That one word from Gibbs carried a lot of meaning in it. It said several things all at once. It said, I noticed, I feel guilty about it, and I understand all at once. He shook his head a little, and actually started talking. “Been thinkin’ about that myself. Let me do some checkin.’ If it pans out, we’ll change it up.”
“Come out?”
Gibbs winced. Tony knew he hated that terminology, because, technically, they weren’t gay. They were together, but they both had had relationships with women. “Tell the team.”
“That would be enough, Jethro.” He took another sip and swallowed, letting the cold liquid start to work in his system, calming him down. “Hell of a day.” He gestured to the beers and the arm behind him. “This your way of inviting me to stay the night?”
Gibbs grinned, and held out his bottle, and Tony clinked his against it. It wasn’t the most normal of relationships, but it had worked for a hell of a long time.
