title: Absolution

fandom: NCIS

pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo

rating: NC17

series: none

sequel to: none

spoilers: vague ones for Dead Man Talking and Split Decision

author: nancy

website: http://www.madbrilliant.com/thetenthmuse1/index.html

email: the_tenth_muse1@yahoo.com

feedback: yes, please!

archive: sure, just let me know

summary: Tony needs absolution and Gibbs gives it to him in an unusual way.

warnings: pain/kink fic, so if that's not your thing, don't read it. also, bad language, tho no actual sex and, strangely enough, shmoop. *grin*

disclaimers: not mine, never will be, not making any money on it

notes: this was inspired by someone (Barbara?) mentioning that she wanted to see Tony suffering and how far Gibbs would go to give him what he needed, which was in turn inspired by seeing Van Helsing. thanks for the bunny honey! ;o)



Absolution
By nancy

Tony was going to shatter and he knew it.

His arms were chained above his head, cuffs digging painfully when he couldn't support his own weight any longer. His back throbbed with the pain of the lash, each individual stroke etched into him like artwork. Sweat dripped down, stinging the welts to mix with the heat already present. He could hear the soft murmurs around him, though sight was denied by a blindfold, and knew that there were more people watching than when all of this started.

The kiss of leather startled him because it didn't bite this time, it caressed. The lash had been replaced by the coil of a whip and he whimpers. In anticipation. In fear. In need. In desire. It was more than just the pain, though that was a big part of it. The pain was something solid he could hold onto, something that took him out of himself, but also just a tool.

What he really craved, the one thing in this world to which he was completely addicted, was the man dishing it out. The strong arm that wielded the instruments marking his bare skin. The low, calm voice that cut into him with words as easily and true as the knives they sometimes used.

And then that voice was in his ear...

"Is this what you want, DiNozzo? Is this what you want? To be my whore? To be a pain-junkie for the world to see? Do you want my cock in your ass, or my fist? I know you, I know what you need, I know your limits, and your wants. I know you, DiNozzo, so tell me. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, but you have to tell me."

This was the game they played every time he managed to convince his lover to bring him to this particular club. Gibbs wouldn't fuck him without being begged for it, performing for an audience wasn't his thing. No, he got off on giving Tony the pain, and he got off on controlling as much of Tony's life as he possibly could, no audience needed. The only reason they were there was to make sure that Tony got what he needed and sometimes, an audience was just that.

He couldn't make Gibbs understand why, mostly because he could barely explain it to himself. So much of their lives were hidden from those they loved. Their love relationship was hidden from their work friends because of their working relationship. Their kink relationship was hidden from their vanilla gay friends, not wanting to risk the rare openness they had to be with each other without reprisal. It was all of that which drove Tony to this place where he absolutely needed to expose himself and what they had to others.

Gibbs didn't understand it, but he accepted it, and that was almost as good.

The whip slapped against his ass, still coiled, bringing him back to the present, out of the confusing thoughts.

"Pay attention or you don't get to come at all tonight," Gibbs announced matter of fact.

Moaning, Tony shook his head, frantic at the thought. "Please, please..."

"Please what, DiNozzo?" Gibbs questioned lightly. "What do you want, slut?"

"You!" Tony exclaimed. "Just you. Anything. Please, Boss, please! Give it to me!"

"What if I don't want to? What if I just want to beat your ass black and blue for being a bitch in heat? What if I want to make you bleed tonight, DiNozzo? What if I want to try to get it through that thick fucking skull of yours that you can't chase after everything in a skirt and not expect consequences?"

"Boss," he whined at the very real threat, knowing that Gibbs was referring to both Voss and Marta. Gibbs hadn't yet forgiven him for Frenching Voss the other week, but then, he hadn't forgiven himself yet, either. The subject had pointedly not been brought up and Tony still wasn't sure if he was relieved, or not. "Please!"

There was no answer, which was never a good sign. The crowd offered a sigh of anticipation that alerted Tony just before the whip cracked through the air and stung his back. He cried out, not bothering to restrain himself, and squirmed, trying unsuccessfully to get away from the next and the next and the next.

He was bleeding now, the blood mixing with the sweat as both liquids itched down his back. Then his chest was attacked and he howled in surprised agony when a nipple was cut into by the tip. Gibbs was merciless, whipping him every and anywhere he had a mind to do so. If there was a pattern to it, Tony was too far gone to discern it. He was lost in the pain, in the absolution offered by the one man who loved him more than life but simultaneously could never offer him the words.

Then it stopped and he collapsed in his bonds, shaking and crying, the tears escaping his blindfold. Strong hands gripped him and Gibbs whispered in his ear, "It's okay, Tony, let it go."

He was released from the cuffs and fell on Gibbs, literally, unable to hold himself up. But Gibbs caught him, of course, holding him tight as he shook with the sobs which were a different kind of release. An absolution that he hadn't even realized that he'd been looking for this time. Gibbs knew, though, he always did. Tony had come here thinking only about sex and reconnection, where Gibbs had obviously been thinking catharsis and emotional release.

Pain was good for both, really.

He was brought out of the room, leaning heavily against Gibbs as they walked, and then was laid carefully on a bed. Hissing in pain as the soft comforter touched his bleeding back, Tony just lay there, waiting while Gibbs healed them both with shaking hands. Each cut was tenderly cleaned and bandaged. Each bruise kissed and paid homage to. Lotion was rubbed gently into weak limbs and more kisses bestowed on abused joints that had been put through so much for far too long.

By the time Gibbs removed his blindfold, Tony floated in a soft cloud of adrenaline induced peace and smiled at the blur that was his lover. His voice scratchy from the screaming, he greeted, "Hey there, Boss."

Gibbs smiled in return and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. When he pulled back, he said, "The room's ours for the next two days."

"Good, cause I doubt I'll be able to move before then," Tony admitted, yawning.

Gibbs gently combed his fingers through Tony's hair. "Feel better?"

"You know I do," Tony replied, yawning again. "C'mere."

Settling carefully on his side next to Tony, Gibbs rested on his elbow and said, "You had me worried, Tony. You've never gone that long before breaking."

Honestly contrite, Tony apologized, "Sorry, Boss. I guess I just...needed to know for sure."

"Just make sure that the next time you decide to reinforce your gigolo image, the woman's some mousy schoolmarm," Gibbs ordered dryly.

Thrilled by the glint of humor and the obvious love in the blue eyes, a laugh escaped, jostling his bruises enough that he groaned, "Don't make me laugh."

Gibbs just grinned as he carefully brought Tony in against him, arranging them so the least amount of bruises and cuts were in contact with his body.

Tony sighed in deep contentment and murmured, "Thanks."

Lips brushed the top of his head as Gibbs questioned, "What for?"

"Absolution."

There was a long pause before Gibbs replied, "Always, Tony, always."

Tony didn't even protest the tightening of his lover's arms as Gibbs' mouth remained pressed to his temple, burrowing even closer as sleep tugged insistently at him.


END