Cover Story
It was late and dark when Gibbs got home, and for the fourth time that week he stumbled over the big cardboard box in the hallway.
“TONY!” he roared, giving the box a kick in retaliation.
“Jethro?” Tony poked his head out from around the kitchen door. He’d left the Navy Yard about fifteen minutes before Gibbs, but lacking Gibbs’s special driving prowess (Tony had this irritating habit of stopping at red lights), he looked as if he’d only just got in. He hadn’t changed out of his suit yet, which he usually did immediately after hitting the fridge and locating a beer.
Tony took one look at Gibbs and paled. “How can you be mad at me already? You were fine when I left the office. Oh…wait…” he clicked his fingers in the air. “Is this about Marion from HR?”
“No!” Gibbs snapped. “Should it be?” he asked suspiciously.
“No! Not at all. That whole thing was a total misunderstanding.” Tony smiled cheerfully. “Oh! It’s not about the thing I put in my report, is it?”
“No. Although that bugged the crap out of me.” Gibbs glared at him.
“It was all true!”
“That’s what bugged me.”
Tony made a face. “Sorry. Oh shit – it’s not because of…”
“Tony! It’s the damn box!” Gibbs kicked it again. “What the hell is in it, and why has it been here all week, tripping me up whenever I try and go in or out of the front door?”
“If you turned the light on, then you wouldn’t trip up over it,” Tony said helpfully.
Gibbs felt his expression darken. “If it wasn’t here I wouldn’t trip up over it, either!”
“Your logic is, as always, faultless. That must be why you’re the boss, Boss,” Tony said, with his most charming smile. Gibbs glared at him some more and then raised an eyebrow. “Oh! You want to know what’s in the box. Right.” Tony looked profoundly uncomfortable. “Okay…but first of all, you have to promise me that you won’t freak out.”
Gibbs folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not going to agree to that condition.”
“I knew that. Just…be open-minded, okay?”
Tony picked up the cardboard box and carried it into the living room. Gibbs followed cautiously, keeping his distance. He wasn’t sure where this was going, and Tony, in one of his more insane moods, could be…unpredictable. Who knew what kind of horrors were in the box? Judging from past experience, it could be anything from live toads to a selection of the world’s most famous cookery books. Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking was still propping up the wonky leg on the TV cabinet that Gibbs kept meaning to fix when he had a spare moment.
“I know I should have unpacked this stuff days ago,” Tony said, talking faster than usual which was always a bad sign. “But we were busy, and to be honest I knew that the minute I opened the box I’d have to talk to you about it because it’s not stuff you can just leave lying around, y’know?”
Tony put the box on the coffee table and glanced at Gibbs with a pleading expression on his face.
“Open the box, Tony,” Gibbs said quietly.
Tony winced theatrically. “See, that tone of voice never bodes well for anyone. Anyway, before I open it I should really explain about it, because if I don’t then…”
“Tony.” Gibbs drew his knife out of his sock holster and handed it to his lover. “Open the damn box.”
“Right. ‘Open the box’ he says. But he doesn’t know what’s in the box, and it might be easier to talk about what’s in the box before opening the box because I ordered what’s in the box – and let me tell you that was an eye-opening experience – and the thing is…”
Gibbs grabbed his knife back, slid it through the packaging, upturned the box, and emptied the contents out on the coffee table – all in one smooth move.
Then they both stood there, gazing at the items in stunned silence.
“So, this is what I ordered,” Tony said faintly. “And now you can see why I thought we should talk about it first.”
“If we’d talked about it first then we’d still be here next Sunday the way you talk,” Gibbs growled. He crouched down and examined the items in more detail. “So, what we have here appears to be one paddle, one leather strap and one…thing.” Gibbs held up the thing in question with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s a tawse. That’s what it said on the website anyway.” Tony’s face was a fetching shade of bright rhubarb. “I think it’s Scottish. Well…not this one…this one is probably made in the good ol’ U-S of A. But I think they originated in Scotland. Once. A long time ago. When people used them for reasons other than…fun.”
“Hmmm. No gags? No handcuffs? No butt plugs?” Gibbs’s raised eyebrow raised itself a fraction higher.
Tony looked like he was going to choke. Then his expression changed into one of curiosity. “You know about butt plugs?”
“I do. And cock rings,” Gibbs said ominously. “And those pinchy things.” He made a snippy sound with his fingers.
“Nipple clamps?” Tony said faintly.
“Yeah. Them. The question is…why do I have what looks like the contents of an S&M vice bust on my coffee table right now?”
“Well…it’s a long story,” Tony said.
Gibbs rolled his eyes heavenward. “When isn’t it? Fine. I’m not going anywhere.” He took off his jacket and threw it on a nearby chair and then threw himself down on the couch. Tony took off his own jacket, and then his tie, and then he toed off his shoes and finally…Gibbs grabbed his arm and yanked him down so that he was sitting beside him. “Now, Tony,” he said.
“Right. Sure.” Tony smiled nervously. “So, I got this stuff because I was just thinking that maybe, as part of the fun we have in the bedroom, you could…ah…spank me?”
“Good.” Gibbs nodded.
“Good?” Tony looked relieved.
“Yes. Very. Because if you’d suggested spanking me with any of this crap then we’d be having a very long conversation indeed, and you know how much I hate long conversations.”
“I do.” Tony nodded gravely. “So…you’re okay with the spanking me thing?”
“Sure.” Gibbs picked up the leather strap and stood up.
“Uh…now? You want to spank me now?”
“Tony, I’ve wanted to spank you for years. Why don’t you take off your pants and bend over the back of the couch?”
“You’re sure about this?” Tony frowned, getting up and undoing his fly. “I mean, you’re okay with this whole kink thing?”
“Yup. Bend over.” Gibbs pointed at the couch impatiently.
“Just…I thought you might want to talk about it more.”
“When do I ever want to talk about anything more?” Gibbs asked incredulously.
“Good point. Okay. So…I’ll just…take these off and…” Tony shoved his pants onto the floor and stepped out of them. “Just…bend over here…”
“Nuh-huh.” Gibbs shook his head.
“Nuh-huh?” Tony queried.
“No boxers. I wanna see that ass glow.” Gibbs gave a menacing smile.
Tony swallowed. Hard. “No boxers. Sure. Okay. You really are taking to this well.”
“I’m an open-minded kind of guy.”
“Since when?” Tony muttered, removing his boxers and bending cautiously over the back of the couch.
“Okay then. Let’s do this.” Gibbs placed his hand on Tony’s back and swung the strap down on his ass – not too hard, but hard enough to create a pleasing slapping sound.
“OW!” Tony stood up. “That hurt!” he complained, rubbing his ass.
“I thought that was the point?”
“Well yeah…but…I thought it’d be more sexy. Maybe we need a role play scenario to get us in the mood?”
“I don’t do role play,” Gibbs said firmly.
Tony pouted. “You just said you were open-minded.”
Gibbs sighed. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”
Tony thought about it for a moment. “How about I’ve been naughty?”
“Could you be more specific? Because you being naughty is pretty much a daily occurrence.”
“Ha ha.” Tony made a face. “Okay – supposing…just supposing…that I had sort of accidentally damaged your boat.”
“You damaged my boat?” Gibbs asked, eyes narrowing.
“Uh…yeah – maybe I went down to the basement one day when you weren’t there, and I didn’t mean to do anything…I was just looking…and touching I suppose…and then by accident – and totally nothing to do with me having drunk all your bourbon first – I sort of shoved it off that frame it’s attached to and a bit of it…uh…broke.” Tony peeked at Gibbs through his eyelashes.
“A bit of it broke? You got drunk and broke my boat?” Gibbs glared at Tony, and then he threw down the strap and marched off in the direction of the basement.
“Uh no! It’s just a role play scenario! No need to go check!” Tony called frantically behind him.
“Oh.” Gibbs turned back. “Right. So…I have to punish you for this – yes?”
“If you want.” Tony gave a helpless shrug.
“With one of these?” Gibbs gestured at the array of implements with his hand.
Tony took a deep breath. “Yes?” he said timorously.
“Right.” Gibbs strode back to the coffee table and picked up the one with the weird name. He pointed it at the couch. “Resume the position. Bad boy,” he added for effect.
“Bad boy?” Tony glanced up as he began bending over. “That’s it? That’s all you can come up with?”
Gibbs shrugged. “I told you I don’t do role playing. This is why.”
“Okay.” Tony sighed and put his head down.
“You ready?” Gibbs asked.
Tony glanced up again. “I don’t think you’d ask that if you were really punishing me,” he said.
“I might.” Tony raised an incredulous eyebrow. Gibbs thought about it. “No, you’re right. I wouldn’t.” He put his hand on Tony’s back and this time swung more gently.
“OWWWWIE!” Tony yelled.
“Oh, come on. I barely touched you.” Gibbs rolled his eyes.
“It’s called role playing. I’m trying to show you how it’s done,” Tony informed him.
“Where I come from that’s called over-acting,” Gibbs muttered.
He drew his hand back again and delivered another light swat to Tony’s ass. Then another. And another. And then he got into a rhythm. Tony began making little moaning sounds and wriggled his ass around enticingly. Gibbs felt his cock hardening in his pants. He was just on the verge of throwing down the tawse and suggesting they take the action to the bedroom when Tony suddenly stood up.
“It’s no use. This isn’t working for me,” he said.
Gibbs glanced at Tony’s proudly erect cock. “I can see that.”
“No…I mean…this wasn’t what I intended!” Tony protested, his face as red as his nicely glowing ass cheeks.
“Yeah. I know.”
“You know?” Tony had gone quite pale.
“Yes, Tony – I know. Now come here.”
“Why?” Tony asked nervously.
Gibbs clicked his fingers impatiently, and Tony scurried over to him. Gibbs put down the tawse, took hold of Tony’s hand, and led him over to the couch. Then he sat down on it and pulled Tony down so that he was lying on his side, with his head resting in Gibbs’s lap. He began gently combing his hands through his lover’s hair. Tony gave a relieved sigh.
“Uh…so what exactly do you know?” Tony asked.
“Well I know this was just the opening salvo. The cover story. The thing it seems to be about but isn’t. I know that hidden beneath this is a whole other thing you haven’t told me about yet.”
“How do you know that?” Tony lifted his head and glanced up at him.
Gibbs grinned and tapped his head. “Because I know you.”
Tony sighed and rested his head back down again. “Yes, you do,” he said softly.
“Wanna talk about it?” Gibbs asked.
“Not really.” Tony mumbled into Gibbs’s lap. “I mean…yes…but no. Can’t.”
“Okay. Tell me, Tony…what was it you wanted to get from this?” Gibbs gestured at the implements on the coffee table. Tony shrugged – which looked odd and uncomfortable when he was lying down. “You wanted to be punished?” Tony shrugged again. “See, when I was a kid, I remember being spanked as being kind of unpleasant…so why did you want that from me? Does the idea of it turn you on? Or was it about something else entirely?”
Tony mumbled something incoherent into his lap. Then he looked up again. “You were spanked as a kid?” he asked, eyes gleaming.
“Well yeah. I mean, it was the sixties, and I wasn’t exactly an easy kid to raise.”
Tony grinned. “You do surprise me.”
Gibbs glared at him. “That toesy thing is within reaching distance,” he pointed out.
“Tawse. It’s a tawse.”
“Whatever.”
“What did you get spanked for?” Tony asked.
“Well…there was the time I stole candy from my dad’s store.”
“Did you sneak in there and get caught by your old man?” Tony chuckled.
Gibbs shook his head. “Nah. I waited until he was in the bathroom, then I got a chair and put it in front of the door so he couldn’t get in. It was a glass door so when he came back he had to stand there, watching me eat the candy, while he couldn’t get in to stop me.”
“But…that’s so blatant!” Tony protested. “You were bound to get caught!”
“Well, I wanted the candy, and this was the quickest way of getting it. I might not have thought the whole thing through. I was a kid – I wasn’t big on impulse control.”
“Weren’t you afraid of him finding out?” Tony asked.
“No,” Gibbs said quietly. “I was never afraid of my dad, Tony.”
They were silent for awhile.
“So what did he do to you?” Tony asked.
“When I finally let him into the store again he scolded me, told me I was naughty and he was disappointed in me, and sent me to my room. Then he came up later, sat on the bed, put me over his knee, and gave me a couple of swats with one of my own slippers.” Gibbs stroked Tony’s hair softly. “And afterwards he kissed me, told me loved me, and put me to bed.”
“Oh.” Tony was silent for a bit more. Gibbs continued stroking his hair. “And what happened after that?” Tony asked eventually.
“I told him he was a mean old man, and I hated him.” Gibbs grinned. “Like I said, I was a kid. He took me out fishing the next day and then I forgot about the whole thing until now. Your turn.”
“What?” Tony glanced up.
“I told you one of my stories – so you have to tell me one of yours.”
Tony bit on his lip. “Well, there was the time I stole my dad’s $3000 ski suit and turned it into an astronaut costume for Hallowe’en.”
“Ouch.” Gibbs winced.
“Yeah.” Tony turned and gazed up at him. “He threw away all my candy and then told me to strip off the suit. To be honest, I was kinda glad about that because it was pretty stinky in there. But then he slammed me over the desk in his study and whaled on my ass with a paddle for what felt like hours. Man, I couldn’t sit comfortably for weeks.”
Gibbs continued stroking. “And what happened after?” he asked quietly.
“After?”
Gibbs didn’t miss the little flicker of panic in Tony’s eyes. “After,” he said firmly.
“After he ignored me until Christmas. In fact, I didn’t get any presents that year – he said that was to go some way to paying off the cost of the ski suit. It was the first Christmas without my mom. I missed her.” Tony gazed up at him expressionlessly. “I didn’t mind the spanking, Jethro. It hurt, but I could handle that. I just didn’t like the silence; weeks and weeks of silent disapproval and tiptoeing around the house.”
Gibbs sighed. “I know about the boat, Tony.”
Tony glanced up again. “I know you know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break it. I was just being nosy, you know, the way I am…and I was curious about how you get the damn things out of there. I thought maybe they had seams.”
“Seams?”
“Yeah – you know, so that you can take them apart in pieces and then just bolt them back together again after you get them out. So I was looking for the join, and I admit I might have had a little of your bourbon – well, a lot of your bourbon – but I didn’t mean to break it.”
“I’m not your dad, Tony. What the hell right would I have to punish you for something like that?”
“None. I know that.” Tony sat up – carefully. “It’s just you didn’t say anything about it. And days turned into weeks, and I just got guiltier and guiltier, and I thought…”
“You thought if I spanked you that we’d be even?”
“Kinda. Maybe. I dunno. I just don’t like being ignored.”
“Have I been ignoring you?”
“Yeah. You kind of have.” Tony made a face. “And I really wanted to take the spanking because I thought it might make you feel better. And I wanted you to know it was about the boat so you could just go for it and get it out of your system and then maybe you’d stop ignoring me, which I know wasn’t what happened with my dad but hey, I never said I was logical. But then as soon as I mentioned the boat you let up and were all nice about it, and it didn’t even really hurt. It just felt…good. So I got confused because I was enjoying it too much and it wasn’t supposed to be about that.”
“Christ, Tony – I figured the boat thing was just an accident. I was waiting for you to say something, and I admit, I was pissed off at first, but I wasn’t being quiet to punish you. I was just…it’s…” He broke off and took a deep breath. “Look, I got a letter from a school friend of Shannon’s. She enclosed some old photos of them from years back. It kinda got to me. That’s all.”
Tony sat up. “That’s all? That’s big. See, this is why we should talk.”
“You mean we should sit down and talk about what’s bothering us instead of going online and ordering a whole store full of kinky shit?” Gibbs glanced at the implements on the coffee table with a raised eyebrow. “Where’s the fun in that, Tony?”
Tony laughed out loud. “It was kinda fun, wasn’t it? Well, apart from you being really bad at role playing.”
“And your terrible over-acting.”
“Hey!” Tony pouted. “So – when you saw what was in that box and went along with it so easily – you were just humouring me?”
“Yup. It’s simpler that way. I figured that whatever it was really about would come to the surface eventually. It usually does with you. With time. And patience.”
“Thank you.” Tony gave a happy smile and leaned in and kissed Gibbs on the mouth. Gibbs moved his hands down and took hold of two handfuls of warm buttocks.
“These feel good,” he said throatily when Tony was done kissing him.
“I could go over your knee next time,” Tony said, with a gleam in his eye. “I could wriggle and squirm…” He moved his hand down to Gibbs’s pants and rubbed his hard cock.
“I could use my hand,” Gibbs promised. “None of that junk you wasted your money on. I wanna feel that ass getting warm beneath my fingers.”
“Oh man…” Tony sighed, leaning into Gibbs, his cock hard and leaking. “That sounds so good. But before we do any of that, we need to have a good talk.”
Gibbs groaned. “Nah. We don’t. We’re done talking.”
“Not about all that emotional shit.” Tony grinned. “No – about your knowledge of butt plugs and cock rings and nipple clamps; I want to know how you know all that stuff.”
Gibbs gave him a sly wink. “It’s part of my mystery. Like how I get my boats out of the basement…”
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