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Title: The Last Halloween
By: nancy
Pairing: Tony/Gibbs
Fandom: NCIS
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: DEATHFIC keep hankies nearby and if DEATHFICS aren't your thing, DON'T read it then come crying to me. dark and violent and depressing, but pretty good, imo. ;o)
Summary: It's the last halloween.

***

Last year's Halloween had been in the basement, working on his boat and it didn't look like there was going to be any difference this year, either. Jethro snorted in dark amusement at having thought otherwise. He and DiNozzo might have had the occasional "stress relief" session together after a tough case, but that had stopped after Kate's death. The one thing he'd thought might actually bring them closer together, however briefly the thought had crossed his mind, had pretty much driven them apart. Not that their working relationship was any different, Tony was too much of a professional to let that get in the way, but Jethro couldn't help wishing...

The doorbell startled him out of his thoughts and he glared in the general direction of the stairs. His porch light was off so that none of the neighborhood kids would show up. The doorbell rang again, and this time the little shit leaned on it and didn't let go.

"God damn it!" he muttered, setting down the mug on his way to the stairs. He stalked up the wooden steps to the front door and yanked it open, snarling, "Get your damn hand off the doorbell you little punk!"

"You mean you didn't order a stripper, mister?"

Jethro blinked in shock at the vision that stood on his front porch...Tony the rent-boy, in jeans that were indecently tight, a button-down shirt that was definitely buttoned down, and bare feet.

Tony's grin expanded and he continued, "Despite the fact that you've been a surly bastard most of your life, you get a treat this year. Are you going to let the treat in, or do I have to go do a trick for someone else?"

Snapping out of the shock, Jethro grabbed Tony's arm and yanked him inside, pushing the door quickly closed and praying that none of his neighbors had seen Tony waiting there. Fortunately, it was after dark so it was mostly just teenagers out at this time. "Are you insane, DiNozzo? Coming here dressed like that?"

The grin shifted into a smirk as Tony's fingers started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. "So I'll get undressed and you won't have to worry about it."

Even though he'd been fully planning on verbally reaming Tony out for pulling such a stunt, the words dried up in Jethro's mouth for a couple of reasons. First and foremost was the fact that he hadn't seen Tony truly playful since before Kate's death and he didn't want it to go away for any reason. Secondly, and very importantly, the skin being exposed was completely bare, telling Jethro that the other man had waxed his chest and, possibly, more.

"So glad we don't have a problem, mister," Tony purred. "You just sit down and let me put on a little show for you."

The slight push that Tony gave him towards the sofa did more than Jethro's own two feet could have on their own and he sat down hard on the cushions, eyes glued to Tony. The younger man was moving to music that only he could hear and the graceful sway of his body had Jethro hypnotized. The jeans were undone also one button at a time and he swallowed a groan on seeing that Tony had gone commando. Not that the lack of an underwear line hadn't already told him that, but actually seeing it was a different story.

Tony turned as the jeans were slowly pushed down, revealing his firm ass an inch at a time. When he bent over, shoving them the rest of the way down his legs, Jethro shuddered on seeing that he was completely bare.

"Fuck, Tony!" he hissed.

Glancing coyly over his shoulder at Jethro, Tony replied, "Not just yet. Sit back, old man, wouldn't want you to have a heart attack by exerting yourself too much now, would we?"

If Jethro's heart hadn't been racing, he'd have snapped something at Tony. As it was, his throat was too dry and his breathing short enough not to bother with words.

Tony kicked aside the jeans, leaving himself dressed only in the unbuttoned shirt, which his shrugged down to his elbows, then tossed aside altogether. Running his hands from his chest down to his bare cock, Tony quirked an eyebrow at him and asked, "Like what you see, mister?"

"Jesus, Tony, of course I do," Jethro croaked, cock throbbing in his pants.

Licking his lips, Tony began moving again, swaying this way and that, pretty much ignoring Jethro altogether as he danced. It was one of the most erotic sights to which Jethro had ever been privy and he sank back into the sofa, hand slowly rubbing over his confined dick, eyes memorizing the sight before him. It felt strange...surreal even...but Jethro didn't want to disturb any part of it, wanting it to go on for the rest of the night, even if he never got to come.

It was just as he thought that, that Tony came to a stop directly in front of him. Looking down at him with serious eyes, he questioned softly, "Do you love me, Jethro?"

And even though it felt like he would be forever damned by admitting it, Jethro had to nod, whispering, "I do."

A fey smile spread slowly across Tony's face and he rested his hands on Jethro's shoulders, massaging them lightly as he replied, "Show me how much you love me."

Sensing what the other man meant, Jethro nuzzled at the hard shaft near his face, then took a slow, long lick along the side of it. He groaned with need and started sucking on it, taking in too much at once and choking on it.

Gentle hands brushed over his hair and Tony whispered, "I'm not going anywhere. Take your time, Jethro."

Taking Tony at his word, Jethro relaxed a little and began to get reacquainted with the cock he'd been denied for moths. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed being with Tony, how much he'd missed having anyone to taste and touch like this, but especially Tony. He could get sex from whomever he wanted, but this went beyond that, even though they'd never said until tonight. Jethro was desperate for his lover's come, aching to taste it in a way he'd never before felt, and sucked harder, finally succeeding in going all the way down. He swallowed around Tony's cock in a way that pulled a chest-deep groan from Tony.

From the way Tony was panting, it wouldn't be long until he came and Jethro worked him harder, going up and down faster, hungry for the taste of him. Tony's fingers did their best to fasten into his hair, but it was too short so instead he palmed the back of Jethro's head and started thrusting. All Jethro had to do was relax his throat and take it, something he was more than happy to do. His own cock was aching and neglected, but Jethro continued to ignore it. He gripped Tony's ass, kneading the flesh there and sliding a finger into the hole in the center.

"Oh shit, oh Jethro! Oh fuck!" Tony gasped, thrusting one last time before coming down Jethro's throat and staying there, bent over Jethro's head for support.

He'd never wrecked the other man so badly before and Jethro swallowed around the cock lodged inside him a few times to add to the sensations, pulling a few more spurts from his lover. When Tony finally pulled free of him, he pushed Jethro back on the sofa and lay on him completely.

Chuckling, Jethro asked, "You still alive?"

Tony huffed and answered, "I claim the fifth."

Jethro nuzzled at Tony's throat and questioned, "So what brought this on? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Can't we just not talk about it for a while?" Tony countered hopefully.

"Yeah, okay," Jethro agreed, kissing Tony's temple. "You get some rest and we can take care of some more business later."

"Mmm sounds like a plan."

Jethro yawned, inexplicably tired, and his eyes began to drift shut of their own volition. His arms tightened around Tony and he drifted into sleep only to jerk awake at the feeling of Tony no longer resting atop him. Instantly alert, Jethro looked around but didn't see any sign of the other man. He frowned slightly and sat up, calling, "Tony? Where are you?"

The house echoed back in such a way as to let him know it was empty. Frowning for real, Jethro stood and scanned the living room, but none of Tony's clothes were where they'd been kicked. He headed for the phone, but it rang just before he got there. Startled, it took a few seconds for Jethro to pick it up and ask, "Hello?"

"B-b-boss? It's, it's McMcGee."

A sick feeling inside caused his stomach to drop. The last time McGee had been that badly stressed had been on the day Kate had been shot. Sinking onto the sofa, he asked faintly, "What happened to Tony?"

"Uh, he was, he, he was in a car accident," McGee explained. "I don't know why, but it looks like, like he was heading to your place. Some drunk sideswiped him getting off the highway and they couldn't even get him out with the Jaws. Th-th-the paramedics, they said, um, they said he didn't feel anything, B-b-boss. It happened instant, instantaneous, instantaneously."

Didn't feel anything. He's dead.

The words echoed numbly through Jethro's mind and he said calmly, "It's going to be okay, McGee. Just...take care of Abby and Ducky for me, will you?"

"Yeah, yes, of, of course, Boss."

"You're a good man, McGee, and a damn fine agent."

"Boss? What are you..."

Jethro hung up and went back downstairs into the basement where his spare .45 was locked safely away. He made sure it was in shooting condition and walked over to his boat, sitting on the floor in the center of the skeleton, which seemed strangely fitting. When he was settled, Tony suddenly appeared in front of him, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Cocking the hammer, he asked, "You love me, right?"

Tony nodded and smiled. "Yeah, Boss. I love you."

Nodding as well, Jethro put the gun to his temple and fired.

***