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Series: 1) The Ring
Warnings: DARKFIC!!! rape, violence, brutality
Summary: Tony vanishes and Gibbs tracks him into the violence of a human slavery ring. Tony and Jethro get a brief respite.
His cell was the same size as a prison cell, but without the bars. The walls were cement, like the floor, and the only door solid metal. He had a narrow cot. A metal toilet sat in the corner. A sink stood beside the toilet. There was no mirror. There was no window. No outside light at all, just that of a single overhead bulb behind a grating to keep it away from him. A necessary precaution, since Tony knew he'd've slit his own throat by now otherwise.
With no clock or window, Tony didn't have a clue how much time had passed from That Day. They didn't even feed him regularly, so he couldn't use that as a judge. It felt like an eternity. Maybe they were still drugging him through his food, maybe it was his near eidetic memory, but every detail of his match with Gibbs remained etched in his mind. The smell of him. The burn and stretch of him inside Tony. The clamp of fingers on his neck. Every blow, given and received.
Since there was nothing else to think about, his mind obsessively reviewed every second of the encounter. It was better than the alternative, knowing that Gibbs remained in the cage matches, fighting and raping his way to survival. Sitting in the corner with his knees to his chest, Tony hugged himself tight, rocking slightly as he tried not to imagine just how brutal it would be for the other man. At his core, Gibbs was all about Right and Wrong and this was so far beyond wrong, there wasn't even a scale.
And he was there because of Tony.
Tony keened his guilt and shame softly, jaw clenched tight. The cement had warmed to his bare skin, but it provided a reassuring hardness against which he could bang his head when his thoughts tangled down too far into despair. He'd been considering killing himself that way lately. Bash his head in hard enough and the damage already done in the last few years would at least bring him to some kind of autistic or impaired state where a life of captivity might not seem so bad.
The door opened, but Tony didn't look up to invite more abuse. The guards never failed to beat him when they brought food. He didn't hear anything, not footsteps or curses or humiliating words. When he finally looked up, shock lit through him. Gibbs stood not four feet away, naked like before, hard like before, sweating and panting and bloody, as if he'd just come from a match. The drug-induced madness was there, but somehow held at bay in the piercing blue eyes staring hungrily at him.
Gibbs strode to him, dropping to his knees beside Tony to haul him in tight, pressing Tony to his chest, arms wrapped almost suffocating around his shoulders and back. A sob escaped as Tony clung to the other man, face pressed to Gibbs' throat.
"Tony, oh God, Tony," Gibbs whispered harshly between kisses to the top of his head. "You're alive, I can't believe you're still alive."
And then they were kissing, hard and furious, tongues thrusting together as Gibbs pushed him flat on the floor. All Tony wanted was the man above him, in him, touching him, taking him. His nails raked hard up Gibbs' back, causing Gibbs to snarl in response and shove Tony's legs apart. A split second later, his cock shoved into Tony, driving into him, stealing his breath and forcing a cry of pain and need from him.
Gibbs rocked in and out of him without letting him adjust, for which Tony was grateful. For all they knew, whoever was behind all of this would send the guards to drag them apart before they finished. His legs locked around Gibbs' waist, heels digging into the other man's ass and thighs, adding to the momentum. One of his arms wrapped around Gibbs' neck to keep them as close as possible. The kissing resumed and he bit and sucked at Gibbs' mouth, egging him on with a breathless litany of, "Fuck me! Harder, damn it! Make me feel it! Fuck me, Boss, please, please fuck me!"'
When Gibbs' hand wrapped around Tony's dick, it was all over. He jackknifed against Gibbs, coming until he couldn't see straight. He vaguely heard Gibbs' guttural moan as the other man ground down into him, filling him with come. Tony's legs slid down to the cold cement floor only when Gibbs released them.
Panting, desperately tired but terrified Gibbs would be taken from him at any moment, Tony begged, "Do me again, please, Boss?"
"Ssh, it's okay, Tony," Gibbs promised, combing fingers through Tony's damp hair. "Relax for me, okay? Don't hurt yourself."
Both of his hands surrounded Gibbs' face as Tony whispered, "They won't let you stay, Boss. They'll take you and I'll never see you again. Never see anyone again. I'll rot here, just like I have been. I think...I think I'm going crazy, Gibbs, because bashing my head in on the wall is starting to look damn good to me."
Gibbs' eyes went hard and cold as he snarled, "Don't you fucking dare, DiNozzo! Not after everything! Don't you leave without me, understood?"
"I can't, Boss, I can't do this anymore," Tony said, voice shaking. "Please, don't make me."
Pulling roughly free of him, Gibbs jumped to his feet and paced a few times before returning to crouch by Tony, who still lay on the floor. They stared at each other for a few minutes, silent, assessing, and then he took Tony's hand, squeezing tight before bringing it to his mouth to kiss the palm. He finally said, "You do what you have to, Tony. I won't hold it against you, no matter what."
And it was because of that permission that Tony felt a new kind of resolve to hold on. Leaving Gibbs here alone wasn't an option, not really. Pushing upright, he asked, "Can we move this to the bed, as crappy as it is? My back and ass are killing me."
A faint smile surfaced on Gibbs' face as he nodded and helped Tony up. He pushed Tony lightly down onto the cot, stretching out alongside him, back to the door as he took up position on the edge, keeping Tony against the wall. It wasn't a real protection and they both knew it, but just going through the motions brought a sense of security and calm to Tony that he hadn't felt in, quite possibly, ever.
His eyes roamed over the newly acquired bruises and cuts on Gibbs' body. A lot of them would scar; some already had from whatever matches he'd already gone through. His mouth followed as Tony licked clean the sweat and blood where he could, kissing the scant unblemished skin as he moved down. Scooting down until he reached Gibbs' dick, he nuzzled at the warm flesh and slowly took it into his mouth. He'd never sucked off another guy before, but it felt perfect to him. He wanted so bad to bring Gibbs off with his mouth and suck him down, needed some kind of visceral connection to the other man that he could at least pretend remained, once Gibbs was gone.
A moan echoed above him as he forced himself further and further down on the thick cock, tongue moving awkwardly. Strong fingers laced through his hair, tightening painfully as Gibbs cupped the back of his head and pushed him down even more. His throat opened reluctantly, but it did open, the gag reflex viciously suppressed, and then he could bury his face in Gibbs' groin fully.
"Yeah, that's it Tony, suck me, suck me good," Gibbs groaned, a leg hooking over Tony's shoulder to pin him down.
Breathing became something he did as quickly as possible. His own cock lay heavy and aching against the thin mattress. His world receded to the single piece of flesh going in and out of his mouth and throat until Gibbs thrust up hard, pushing down with his hand, and came. Tony swallowed automatically, throat massaging more come out of the other man until there was no more.
Tony gasped for air, resting his head on Gibbs' thigh while the hand in his hair gently stroked over it instead of clenching hard. If he could've purred in contentment, he would have. As it was, Tony crawled up and burrowed against Gibbs, grateful when the other man's arms went around him to hold tight. His heart slowed eventually and he pressed his face to the hollow of the other man's throat.
"What are we going to do, Boss?" Tony whispered.
Gibbs sighed and pressed his lips to the top of Tony's head before answering softly, "Live. Survive. Do whatever it takes."
Tony hesitated, then asked, "How'd you find me?"
Gibbs' arms tightened and he replied, "It doesn't matter now. We're here. Let's not waste the time, okay Tony?"
Nodding, Tony pressed small kisses to Gibbs' chest and hitched a leg over his hip, thrusting lazily against his abs.
"Something you need, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, a wicked chuckle sending a shiver through. Tony. "Because I could take care of that for you."
"God yes, please Boss," Tony groaned.
Not only did Gibbs jerk him off, but by the end of it, he was hard again and slid slow and easy into Tony again. It lasted a lot longer that time, both of them putting orgasm off for as long as possible. There were endless, wet and nasty kisses amidst low, dirty words.
Gibbs rolled on his back and urged Tony to ride him, to come on him.
Tony pinned Gibbs' wrists to the mattress as he did just that, riding the other man's cock slow and hard. He closed his eyes to remember the feel of it, the shaking tension of his muscles as he worked, the ache in his ass, the itch of sweat down his body, the smell of sex and Gibbs. He thrust down with enough force each time to move the cot, demanding more as he begged without hearing the words.
In the end, it couldn't be put off forever and Tony came with a low, mournful cry, streaking Gibbs' abs with his come. Bracing his feet, Gibbs thrust up rapidly, hands tight enough to bruise on Tony's hips as he came. Tony collapsed forward, humming in contentment as Gibbs' hands stroked slowly over his back. He couldn't stave off the exhaustion any longer, the emotional and physical strain dragging him down at last.
Just when he drifted off, the door slammed open, scaring his heart into overdrive. Rough hands yanked him off Gibbs and even though he fought and screamed and kicked and bit at whatever he could reach, there were too many of them. They bore him to the cement, a couple of kicks landing in his gut, driving the air from him.
The last thing he saw was a boot coming at his face. He had just enough time to think, Oh, good. Looks like I won't need to kill myself after all, before impact.
* * * *
Unlike Tony, Jethro had been expecting the guards and didn't fight them. He shouted for Tony not to resist, but it didn't matter. The younger man was lost to the maelstrom of his emotions and terrors. Not that Jethro could blame him. Not after what he'd been through.
"Fuckers!" he snarled when one of them kicked Tony in the head. "He's got a history of head trauma!"
One of the men holding him sneered and told him, "Shut it before we do you the same. Just remember, you don't cooperate and pretty boy won't be pretty for long. You sure as shit won't see him ever again."
Jethro bit back the curses he wanted to hurl at him. Instead, he fought the lingering effects of the drug that took his discipline from him and kept silent. He buried the hate and venom that sought a home in their deaths. The only way he would ever escape with Tony was if he kept his head. The more depraved the fights became, the harder it grew to keep hold of himself, but this wasn't a war he could afford to lose. Tony was already at the breaking point, maybe beyond it. He couldn't risk losing himself, too.
As they left Tony's cell, the same guard announced, "Your next match is tomorrow and it's gonna be a little different."
Wary, Jethro questioned, "Different, how?"
The man smirked and told him, "Death match. You're just too damn good, Gibbs."
Jethro's stomach sank as he realized that he would have to kill in order to keep Tony safe, to see him again. That his promised cooperation in exchange to see Tony had brought him to this. They had leverage over him now. They knew he would do anything for Tony. Walking down the dim gray corridor, he prayed that they could both hold out until he could figure a way out.
There was no answer.
***Next story in series: Death Match.