Mal (malnpudl) wrote in ncis_flashfic,

Method Acting, by malnpudl

Title: Method Acting
Author: malnpudl
Pairing: Gibbs/DiNozzo
Rating: Adult
Word Count: ~3900
Disclaimer: NCIS belongs to CBS Broadcasting, Paramount Pictures, and Belisarius Productions. No copyright infringement is intended. This is just for fun, not for profit.

Summary: Porny "fuck or die" undercover-in-a-gay-nightclub cliché!fic, with only the vaguest semblance of plot.

ETA: Now also available as a podfic [right click/save as], with many thanks to general_jinjur for hosting at her multifandom podfic archive.

~ * ~

"Two hours? That's too soon. I'm not even sure where he is right now."

"That's your problem. You're both at the club in two hours or it's all over."

Tony heard a click as the call was disconnected, and he stared at the cell phone for a moment before flipping it closed and tossing it on his desk, adrenaline already setting his pulse racing.

"We've got a problem, Boss."

Ziva and McGee looked up at Tony's words.

Gibbs, with his usual innate radar for brewing trouble, had already been watching him. "Well, spit it out, DiNozzo."

"It's my undercover gig, the one with those guys suspected of killing gay-bashers. The good news is that there's only one more hoop to jump through and then I'm in, and they'll take me on their next 'patrol'. The bad news is that I have to bring my partner" – Tony put air quotes around the word – "with me to the club and we have to get there within two hours or I'm out."

"Your 'partner'?" Ziva asked.

"I had to explain why I never picked up any guys at the club, so I told them I was in an exclusive relationship. Apparently a couple of the guys aren't convinced I'm really gay, so they want me to bring my partner as proof."

"That'll be me," Gibbs said. "No time to put together a full undercover identity." He reached for his phone.

"Boss," McGee said, "shouldn't it be me?"

Gibbs put the phone back on the hook and stared at him, and Tony sat back to watch McGee dig himself a hole.

"I, uh, I mean…" McGee stammered, "I thought somebody a little closer to Tony's age…" He seemed to realize that he was on increasingly shaky ground, and trailed off.

Gibbs sat back in his desk chair. "Okay, McGee, go over there and kiss DiNozzo."

McGee looked pole-axed. "Boss?"

"You heard me. Go lay one on him. Slip him some tongue."

McGee flushed scarlet and took a hesitant step toward Tony.

"Too late," Gibbs said. "You're both dead. And that's why you're not going."

Ziva snorted. "And you think Tony could do better?"

Gibbs looked at her. "Tony is an experienced undercover operative who can and will do whatever it takes to get the job done." He turned and looked Tony in the eye. "Isn't that right, DiNozzo?"

Tony felt a heady rush of pride. "That's right, Boss."

"Get it in gear, people," Gibbs barked. "We've got a gang of serial murderers to catch." He picked up the phone and punched some keys. "Abby. I need a PI license and a concealed carry permit in thirty minutes. My name. Yeah. Complain and I'll make it twenty." He grinned. "Good. I knew you could. What? No, no wires; we can't risk it on this one."

As Gibbs hung up the phone, Tony grabbed his undercover wardrobe and went to change. A thought struck him and he doubled back to Gibbs' desk.

"You know, Boss, that white t-shirt has to go."

Gibbs just looked at him.

"And please don't tell me you're wearing white socks."

Gibbs snorted. "Just go get pretty, DiNozzo."

It wasn't until Tony reached the locker room that he realized that no one had questioned Gibbs' ability to pass for gay, or to kiss a man if he had to. To kiss Tony if he had to.

Suddenly he had a terrible sinking feeling in his gut. Two straight men pretending to be gay, with their lives riding on the success of their performances.

Shit. They were so dead.

~ * ~

They arrived ten minutes early and took up a position at the bar, Gibbs with his back to the door so Tony could watch over his shoulder for their suspects to arrive.

Tony let the place soak into him, the music and the men and the smell of beer and booze helping him slide into his role, leaving Tony the cop behind and becoming Nick Doyle, hot gay stud and wannabe vigilante. He'd taken a few acting classes in college, looking for easy credits that wouldn't threaten his athletic scholarship, and he'd been surprised to learn he had a talent for it. Method acting, they called it, not just pretending, but being.

This role had come more easily to him than he'd ever imagined, and a part of him had wanted to freak out over that, but freaking out was a luxury he couldn't afford, so he'd shoved it aside and let Nick come out to play. And Nick wanted to play.

Flirting, it turned out, came just as naturally to him with men as it did with women. Tony knew he didn't have to follow through, so it was remarkably easy to use his charm and his smooth moves on the men in the club. He even got a weird kick out of knowing they wanted him, even as he turned them down.

Tonight, though, he wasn't flirting with anyone, not with Gibbs there.

Gibbs, his boss, his "boyfriend," who looked comfortable and relaxed, oddly at home in the hottest gay nightclub in town, in spite of the blatantly admiring looks he was receiving from a number of the other patrons.

Tony caught sight of their suspects entering the club, and his eyes flicked to meet Gibbs'. "We've got company."

Gibbs' only response was to set his beer down on the bar, slide his arms around Tony's waist, and lean in to bite him none too gently on the throat as he slid his hands down to cup Tony's ass. "Make it good," Gibbs whispered, his breath hot in Tony's ear. "Nick."

While Tony silently reeled in shock, Gibbs slowly squeezed his ass, giving Tony a shocking jolt of something he refused to name.

And then they had company, half a dozen men dressed for clubbing, jocular and flirtatious and headed toward drunk but not there yet.

"Well, look who we found, boys!" The slim blond man eyed Gibbs and slowly trailed his fingertips over Tony's shoulder. "Where've you been hiding the silver fox?"

Gibbs reached up and plucked the man's hand off Tony's shoulder. "The name's Gibbs and I don't share, so keep your hands off what's mine."

Tony felt a stirring in his groin at the words, and holy hell, where had that come from? Nick. It was Nick, and he apparently liked Gibbs going all territorial. Tony shifted his body, pulling away a bit, and hoped that Gibbs hadn't noticed.

"Ooh," one of the men said. "Isn't he the fierce one? Mm-mm!"

"Back off, Alan." That was Drew, the sharp-faced player with the languid manner and whipcord lean muscles who was the apparent ringleader and their chief suspect. As he made introductions, Gibbs slung his left arm casually around Tony's waist, shaking hands with his right.

Tony tossed back half his beer, then slid his arm around Gibbs and let himself lean close, relaxing against Gibbs' side. He could smell Gibbs' complex scent – a hint of sweat and sawdust under the light aftershave, all of it overlaid by coffee and beer. It smelled a lot better than it should've. And that didn't bother him as much as it should've. Neither did the hand that Gibbs casually slid down to palm his ass.

For a while it looked like they were going to get away with it. Two rounds of drinks and no disasters, just the payoff of building his credibility with their suspect and his cadre, and a slight headache from the music that was too loud even for Tony. And, of course, the weirdness that was groping and being groped by Gibbs. An all too attractive weirdness, and he couldn't let himself freak out over that, so he just let Nick enjoy it.

Tony danced. He'd demurred, but Gibbs insisted. "I don't dance," Gibbs had told Alan, the flirtatious blond, "but I like to watch Nick." His smile was subtle and lethal.

Tony leaned over and nuzzled Gibbs' earlobe. "Payback, Gibbs," he whispered. "I'll get you for this." And then Alan was dragging him onto the dance floor where Tony did his damnedest to let himself go and get into the music – he was a good dancer, and he knew it – but he could feel Gibbs' eyes all over his body and it made him intensely aware of every sway of his hips and every overheated inch of his skin.

Now and then some stranger would try to feel him up and put the moves on him, but to Tony's relief the group seemed to have appointed themselves defenders of Gibbs' turf, and each time his self-appointed sheepdogs subtly but effectively warded off the prowling wolf. Tony knew he could've dealt with the unwanted advances without breaking cover; his previous visits to the club had taught him that much. But he wasn't sure how Gibbs would've dealt with it and was grateful not to have it put to the test.

And then it all went south. Tony had just rejoined Gibbs at the bar for another tall cold one when Drew slung a friendly arm around Gibbs' waist – Christ, couldn't the guy read the invisible flashing neon "hands off" sign? – and felt Gibbs' pistol under his sport coat at the small of his back.

"What the fuck?" Drew yanked his hand away, all languor gone and the threat in his expression mirrored on the faces of the men around them. "Man's packing."

Gibbs stayed where he was, looking relaxed as hell leaning back against the bar, and Tony hoped he was the only one who noticed how Gibbs' weight slowly shifted so he was balanced and ready to move. They both knew that most of the men in the group surrounding them were armed. This could get very ugly, and a whole bar full of civilians could be put at risk.

Gibbs picked up his beer and took a leisurely pull. "I'm a private investigator. Do a little bodyguard work on now and then. Concealed carry permit goes with the job." He slipped his wallet out of his pocket, flipped it open to his freshly minted PI license.

Drew didn't look reassured, and the tension in the men around them did not ease. "Thought all along you looked like a cop."

Gibbs grinned, a wolfish slash of teeth with no humor in it, and tucked his wallet back in his pants. "They wouldn't have me, and I didn't want them."

"Oh, yeah? How 'bout you prove it, then?"

Gibbs cocked an eyebrow at him. "What the hell is it to you what I do?"

"Some of us have had… bad experiences with cops. And I think you smell like one."

"What? You think I'm a gay-basher with a badge? Do I act like a gay-basher?"

"Guys have been known to fake it." He stared at Gibbs. "But only so far."

"Back room?" Alan asked as the other men crowed around Gibbs and Tony, quiet menace clear on their faces.

Drew nodded and gestured with his chin toward the back of the club. "Let's go. Put out… or else we'll have to have a nice long talk somewhere private."

Tony was sure his heart was going to stop. Either that or explode. But Gibbs just shrugged, set his beer on the bar, and wrapped his arm around Tony. "C'mon, babe. Looks like you and I get to put on a show." He glanced at the men surrounding them. "Hope they're good tippers."

The back room was actually several rooms, and Drew herded them into a smaller and less crowded one. A couple was fucking in one corner, and opposite them two men jerked each other off while another watched. Tony found himself backed into the far corner of the room, Gibbs' arm still around his waist.

The big man, Hal, made a move as if to take Gibbs' pistol, but froze at Gibbs' shark grin.

"I really don't think you want to do that."

Drew put his hand on Hal's arm. "Let it go. For now, anyway. Let's see what kind of show they're going to put on for us first."

"Smart move," Gibbs said, and Tony had just enough time to silently and thoroughly freak out before Gibbs grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

Like everything else Gibbs did, it was no holds barred – open mouth, hot and hungry, with lots of tongue. Damn, but Gibbs knew what to do with his tongue. Tony felt Gibbs pull him in close, crotch to crotch. He was used to feeling the softness of a woman's body against him. This was nothing like that. There was a lot of Gibbs' crotch to get close to, and what Tony felt wasn't soft.

A big, warm hand reached up under Tony's shirt, caressed his stomach and making his muscles jump. That was Gibbs' hand on his naked belly, spreading over his ribs, reaching for his nipple and rolling it between his fingers. That was Gibbs rubbing his hard cock against Tony's groin. Tony's brain froze; his cock jumped up and cheered. Nick… Nick loved it. Nick wanted more.

Gibbs released Tony's mouth and looked into his dazed eyes. "That's it, babe. Show me how much you like it." The words sounded like a caress, but Tony knew it was an order, and Gibbs' eyes were saying 'and make it good.'

Gibbs reached down and cupped Tony's dick.

Tony's head snapped back and his back arched. He heard himself moan. "Jesus, Gibbs," he whispered.

"So which one of you's gonna top?" That was Hal's voice, and his words made all the blood drain out of Tony's head – and out of his cock.

"Now see what you've gone and done?" Gibbs said, turning to face the men. "My boy here's a little shy; he's not used to an audience. So why don't you all back off and shut the hell up."

As usual, Gibbs' order was obeyed. Tony didn't know why he was surprised. People nearly always obeyed Gibbs' orders, even when they didn't know why.

Gibbs turned back to Tony and pulled him back in for another kiss, slow and leisurely. His hands wandered over Tony's body, caressing him, stroking and squeezing and petting him. Tony felt his shirt lifted and bunched up under his arms, then Gibbs bent his head and suckled one of Tony's nipples into his mouth, teasing it with stiff tongue and hints of teeth.

It felt incredibly good. Tony had known his nipples were sensitive, but he hadn't known they could feel like this, sizzling heat right down to his cock. He pulled his shirt off over his head. Gibbs was doing his part and more; Tony knew it was time to get over his nerves and carry his weight in the bizarre game they were playing.

"Yeah, babe," Gibbs muttered, his voice husky. "Damn, you look hot. I can't wait to feel you suck my dick."

Tony's gut did a back flip. "Gibbs…"

"Nope," Gibbs said, shaking his head. He palmed Tony's erection through his pants and rubbed it hard. "I know you love it, but I changed my mind. I want to blow you. Think these boys'll like seeing your pretty cock in my mouth?"

The words, the pictures they made in his mind had Tony so hard and hot that it was all he could do to remain upright. He leaned against the wall, breathing hard, and watched as Gibbs unbuckled his belt. Those were Gibbs' hands unbuttoning Tony's jeans, that was Gibbs unzipping his fly, pushing his jeans and his briefs down around his ankles, leaving Tony all but naked in front of their small audience. He didn't have time to panic before Gibbs sank to his knees and took Tony's cock deep into his mouth.

Tony's knees buckled, and it was only Gibbs' strong hands on his hips that held him upright.

Gibbs reached up and ran his hand across Tony's naked belly, his fingernails scratching lightly and making Tony shiver, and somehow that was even more intimate than Gibbs' impossibly hot, wet mouth sucking Tony's cock. Tony couldn't help it; he groaned.

One of the men watching murmured obscene suggestions, and Tony felt himself start to freak out again.

Gibbs pulled back off Tony's cock and looked up at him. He laid one big hand flat on Tony's belly. "Nick. Look at me, babe." His eyes locked on Tony's, anchored him. "Only at me."

Tony let Nick drive, and his hands found their way to Gibbs' head; his fingers stroked through the soft, close-cropped hair.

Gibbs didn't quite smile, but his face softened, and there was heat in his eyes. "Yeah. That's it." And he opened his mouth and ran a broad, flat tongue up the underside of Tony's cock.

The world narrowed to wet heat, Gibbs' mouth taking him deep, Gibbs' eyes, and shocking, aching pleasure that was ratcheted impossibly higher when Gibbs unzipped his pants and took out his own hard cock and started working it with one hand while he hungrily ate Tony's cock. The vibrations of Gibbs' grunting moans around his dick made Tony gasp.

"Jesus! Gibbs! Oh, god!" He wanted to thrust into Gibbs' mouth, but Gibbs' forearm across his hips held him still. "Fuck!"

Gibbs sucked harder, and Tony felt his balls tighten. Gibbs' hand whipped hard and fast over his own cock, and suddenly Tony didn't want it to go that way. "Don't come," he whispered hoarsely.

Gibbs looked up at him, a question burning in his eyes.

"Don't come. I want to…"

Gibbs growled, a guttural and hungry sound, and all but swallowed Tony's cock.

Tony thought he might have shouted, but he wasn't sure. He just knew that he was coming harder than he could ever remember, his breath coming in hot, tight gasps, everything swept away by white hot, searing pleasure. Everything but Gibbs.

As the last pulse of orgasm drained his cock, Tony's legs gave out and he sank to his knees. Gibbs' arms caught him and drew him in close. Still pleasure-drunk, Tony met Gibbs' kiss automatically, and he tasted his own come in Gibbs' mouth.

Gibbs drew back slowly, with seeming reluctance, and rose to his feet. He looked down at Tony without saying a word. His cock stood rigidly erect, right in front of Tony's face.

Tony knew he could jerk Gibbs off, and that would be enough to give him credibility with their suspects. But it wouldn't be enough for Nick. Nick was in control, and Nick wanted more. Nick wanted everything.

Tony leaned forward and took Gibbs' cock into his mouth, sliding his lips slowly down the shaft and licking at it with his tongue, praying that he didn't look hopelessly clumsy at it and give himself away.

Gibbs grunted and brought his hands down to gently hold Tony's head.

Tony backed off and looked up at him. "Yeah," he said, tugging at Gibbs' hips. "Do it."

Gibbs parted Tony's lips with the head of his cock and slid slowly in, then just as slowly back out, rubbing his cock over Tony's tongue. "Jesus," he whispered, finding a measured rhythm. "Christ, Nick."

Tony felt the men's eyes on him as he sucked cock for the first time in his life, staring at his mouth, at his naked body. He felt Gibbs watching him as his cock slid between Tony's lips, and his own cock pulsed and swelled, half hard again already, even though he'd just come.

Gibbs held Tony's head and fucked his mouth, never too hard or too fast or too deep, never enough to reveal Tony's inexperience. The scent of his groin was strong and sweet, and the sound of the grunts that Gibbs couldn't quite bite back went straight to Tony's balls. Tony – Nick – Nick loved it, he loved it all; Nick wanted to stay on his knees and suck Gibbs all night.

Gibbs groaned, deep and low, and Tony felt the cock in his mouth swell huge and hard and then spill hot come over his tongue in pulsing spurts. He managed to swallow most of it, the taste enough like his own that he wasn't shocked by it, and only a little bit leaked out between his lips and trickled down his chin.

Gibbs pulled slowly out of Tony's mouth. He stroked a thumb over Tony's chin and fed him the spilled come. Tony closed his eyes and licked it off, taking Gibbs' thumb into his mouth. He wanted to suck Gibbs all over again. He wanted Gibbs' mouth on him again. He wanted a lot of things he had no business wanting, things that should scare the crap out of him. But they didn't.

Gibbs slid his thumb out of Tony's mouth and rubbed it once across his cheek, then dropped his hand down between them. Tony took it, and Gibbs pulled him to his feet. Tony went automatically into his arms for a kiss, hungry for his mouth, and it was Gibbs who, after a last nip at Tony's lower lip, finally pushed him gently away so he could tug his pants up and set his clothing to rights.

Half hard and still reeling, Tony bent down and pulled up his own pants, then turned to look for his shirt. Smirking, Drew handed it to him. Tony accepted it without a word and shrugged it on.

"Satisfied?" Gibbs said as he tucked in his shirt and resettled his pistol at the small of his back.

Drew looked down where his own erection bulged in his pants. "That's not exactly the word I'd use," he said with an unnerving smile. "But yeah, I'm convinced. Nick, you're in. And Gibbs, if you want to join us, you're in, too. I have a feeling you'd be a good man to have around if things go sideways."

Gibbs just grunted and nodded toward Tony. "Up to him. This is his show."

Tony turned to look at him, just barely concealing his surprise. And his pride. His show. Gibbs was letting him decide. "Yeah," he said, managing to sound offhand. "Sure. Be good to have you."

Drew nodded once, sharply. "All right," he said. "We'll be in touch." He turned on his heel and left the room, the rest of the men trailing behind him, leaving Gibbs and Tony to finish sorting themselves out.

"'Babe'?" Tony said as they walked out of the club a few minutes later.

Gibbs snorted. "Undercover, DiNozzo. Don't expect to me to make a habit of it."

Tony grinned. They stopped between their cars, and he cleared his throat. "Boss?"

Gibbs unlocked his car and cocked an eyebrow at Tony.

Tony fidgeted with his keys, avoiding Gibbs' eyes.

"What, DiNozzo?"

"It's just… you were awfully good at that. Uh. I mean, for somebody who's never done it before."

Gibbs slid into the driver's seat and closed the door. He started the engine and hit the switch to lower the window. "What makes you think I've never done it before?" he asked, and gunned it out of the parking lot, leaving Tony standing beside his own car with a bemused look on his face.

~ fin ~

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