FOR MORE THAN JUST ONE NIGHT

 

By

 

Ashleigh Anpilova

 

Tim wakes up in his own bed after a night out celebrating. However, he is not alone; in his bed is Jimmy. The problem is Tim can't remember what, if anything happened, the previous evening. He just knows one thing: he wants it to be more than just once, but he doesn’t know if Jimmy wants the same thing.

A first time story.

Written: October 2013. Word count: 3,250.

 

 

 

Tim opened his eyes and instantly closed them again as bright sunlight shining through the curtains he had failed to close the night before hit him. He groaned softly as his head pounded; his mouth felt dry and tasted horrible and despite his eyes being closed, the sunlight was hurting them.

 

It was his own fault; well not entirely his own fault, most of it had been Tony's fault, but as a mature, responsible, about to become team leader, adult he had to admit that at least part of the way he was feeling was his own fault.

 

The team: Gibbs, Ducky, Tony, Jimmy, Dornie, Abby and him had gone out the night before to celebrate firstly Gibbs and Ducky's retirements, and secondly Jimmy and his promotions - Jimmy to ME and him to team leader. He was still somewhat surprised that he, rather than Tony, had been offered the position, but offered it he had been.

 

When Vance had called him to his office and offered him the position, Tim had had to fight the urge to look at the calendar on Vance's desk and check it wasn't April 1st. However, no, apparently it was May and he had indeed been offered the position. He had accepted; of course he had - he'd have been the biggest fool around not to have accepted.

 

However, as soon as he'd left Vance's office, guilt had overtaken him. He swore were it not for the fact that Tony was lounging against the wall, flirting with Vance's assistant, and had taken Tim's arm and dragged him out and into the elevator and told him firmly he didn't mind, that he hadn't wanted the job, that he'd have gone straight back into Vance's office and told him he'd changed his mind.

 

He still wasn't sure why he'd been offered the job and he certainly couldn't understand why Tony was so completely all right about it. However, he had been offered the job and Tony was completely all right about it. Thus, he was (or at least would be in two days time) the new official team leader.

 

It had been Tony who had insisted they all go out and celebrate as a team. NCIS had thrown a retirement party for Gibbs and Ducky, but Tony had insisted that wasn't the real celebration. Thus, with Gibbs and Ducky arguing to an extent that they really didn't want a night out on the town - the seven of them had indeed gone out firstly to dinner at a very expensive and high class restaurant (where Ducky had picked up the check) and then onto a nice bar where they'd spent the rest of the evening.

 

Gibbs and Ducky had been the first to leave, followed half an hour or so later by Dornie. Thus, it was just Tony, Jimmy, Abby and him sitting laughing talking, taking bets on how soon Gibbs and/or Ducky 'just happened to be passing the Navy Yard', toasting one another - he couldn't remember why they'd toasted Tony or Abby, he just knew they had - and getting more and more drunk.

 

And then . . . And then Tony had insisted on being a gentleman - preceding the words with 'there's a first time for everything' - and making sure Abby got home safely, which had left Tim and Jimmy who had solemnly agreed to 'one more drink'. One more had turned into - two or even three before they'd both got into the same taxi and . . .

 

And that was where the evening became completely foggy. Tim had a vague memory of them laughing so much at something that they were holding one another up in the back seat of the taxi. He had another even vaguer memory of getting to his apartment and Jimmy discovering he'd lost his wallet (thankfully it had only money in it, not his NCIS ID or his credit cards) somewhere, thus he'd invited Jimmy up to his apartment, promising to lend him some money to get a cab to take him home. He had a third even more vague memory of shots of - of what he couldn't remember, and them laughing some more and falling down onto the couch arms and legs tangled together. And then . . .

 

Suddenly Tim opened his eyes again, ignored the blinding sunlight and slowly turned his head. There, in the bed next to him, naked at least to his waist, sprawled on his stomach, his hair messed up was none other than Jimmy.

 

Tim groaned silently and swore under his breath as he tried to remember how they'd got from the couch to his bed and more importantly what if anything had happened once they'd got to bed. He screwed up his eyes and thought as hard as he could and bit by bit certain things came back to him.

 

He kind of remembered telling Jimmy he might as well spend the night and that given how uncomfortable the sofa was he could crash in Tim's bed. He definitely remembered a shared visit to the bathroom where he'd insisted Jimmy sit down as he didn't want to deal with a mess in the morning. He remembered the entire contents of the bathroom cupboard crashing onto the floor as he'd hunted for a toothbrush for Jimmy and quite how long it had taken the two of them to unwrap it. He remembered following his own orders and how they'd laughed - giggled, not laughed, they'd been too drunk to laugh - as Tim had tried to pull his trousers off before he stood up again. He remembered digging through his dresser drawers in an attempt to find something for them both to sleep in and finally giving up. He remembered pushing Jimmy over onto the other side of the bed, telling him that it was his bed and thus he got to choose which side to sleep on.

 

He remembered . . . Actually, after that he didn't remember anything; he didn't remember anything at all. Moving carefully and slowly, he lifted the covers and glanced down; yes, he was naked; Jimmy was naked; they were both naked. Making sure not to jolt the bed he shifted sideways slightly and peered down at the sheet looking for any evidence of what they might have done. He couldn't see anything, and he wasn't aware that of anything sticky underneath him, but maybe Jimmy had -

 

A soft groan coming from the recumbent figure next to him had him freezing before swiftly letting the covers fall back down. He stayed exactly where he was and waited; he could have sworn he could hear his heart beating in his ears. Jimmy groaned again, shifted his body slightly, and lifted his head an inch or two from the pillow before slumping back down again. A moment or two later Tim once again heard Jimmy's regular breathing; Jimmy appeared to have gone back to sleep.

 

Tim glanced at the clock; it was still early, besides neither of them had to be at work - Tony had sensibly insisted on the 'celebration' being held on a Friday night, a Friday night when Gibbs's team - Tim's team - wasn't on duty the following day.

 

Knowing that it wouldn't be that long before nature would force him from the bed, and wondering quite what he might encounter in the bathroom - apart from the entire contents of his bathroom cupboard being all over the floor - Tim rested back on his pillow and once more tried to remember what had happened once Jimmy and he had got into bed.

 

However, once more he drew a blank. Thus, he changed tact and thought about what he might have wanted to happen - if anything - and how he would feel if Jimmy and he had somehow in their drunken states actually managed to make love.

 

He shook his head, instantly wishing he hadn't, at the fact he'd thought about what they may have done in terms of 'making love' rather than 'having sex' or some other such term. Did guys really refer to doing it with another guy as 'making love'? Tim was pretty sure most, if any, didn't - but to him the term felt right. Not that he could remember if they had made love or not.

 

However, what if they had? What then? And what had it been like? Had it been good? What had it meant? Would Jimmy want it to happen again? Did he want it to happen again? Tim and his then best friend had fooled around a time or two during their middle teenage years, engaging in a little mutual masturbation and had once done it to one another, but that had been years ago and he'd never considered doing with another guy since then. He was quite certain he wasn't the only teenage boy who'd done that kind of thing - had Jimmy? And if so, had Jimmy done it with guys since? Surely if they'd done what Tim was beginning to think they had done, then one of them at least had to have done it with a guy other than a school friend, hadn't they?

 

He reckoned he had about five minutes before he would simply have to get up and go to the bathroom. Thus, he forced himself to concentrate not on what might or might not have happened, but on what happened now. Assuming they had made love in some way or other, did he want it to happen again? Assuming they hadn't made love in some way or other, did he want them to do so?

 

The answer came immediately and caused Tim to blink hard and wonder if he had become temporarily insane. After all even if he wanted it to happen again - or happen for the first time - it didn't mean that Jimmy would. And even if both of them did, what about Gibbs's Rule #12 - except that didn't apply any longer, did it? After all, Gibbs had retired and it wasn't an agency rule; it had just been Gibbs's own personal rule. So that meant -

 

Another groan emanated from Jimmy and Tim turned his head swiftly and looked at Jimmy who was definitely showing signs of moving and waking up. Under Tim's gaze, Jimmy turned his head on the pillow, turned it towards Tim, opened and shut his eyes several times before finally opening them wide and looking at Tim.

 

"Morning, Tim," he croaked and managed a half-smile.

 

Tim swallowed. "Good morning, Jimmy," he managed, aware he was stammering slightly. "Did you sleep well?" he heard himself say far too brightly and loudly.

 

Jimmy groaned and turned over onto his back. "I'm not sure I slept at all, to be honest. It was more like I passed out. Did I pass out, Tim?" He pushed himself up onto his elbows, winced and groaned again.

 

"Um. Well you see . . . The thing is, Jimmy. Um. Er. Well - I need to pee!" And with that he threw the covers back, revealing both their completely naked bodies, got out of bed, tripped over shorts that weren't his and hurried into the bathroom.

 

He maneuvered his way through the contents of his bathroom cabinet and headed for the toilet - relieved to see the only mess he had to deal with was indeed the contents of his bathroom cabinet.

 

A couple of minutes later he stood in front of the sink brushing his teeth, having swallowed four aspirin and drunk two glasses of water; he was beginning to feel marginally human again. Now all he had to do was to return to the bedroom and face Jimmy.

 

However, at that moment the door was pushed open and Jimmy came in. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked.

 

"What? No, of course not. Here," Tim said, pushing the aspirin bottle into Jimmy's hand. "I'll -" And with that he turned and hurried from the bathroom, ignoring the look of surprise on Jimmy's face.

 

As he sank down onto the bed he realized it hadn't been just surprise he'd seen on Jimmy's face; a flash of pain (and not from the headache he was sure Jimmy must have) had also appeared on his face. He put his head into his hands and groaned softly; what was he going to do? What was going to happen? What could he say to Jimmy? If only he knew if they had made love or not.

 

He stood up, glanced swiftly in the direction of the bathroom, before staring down at the bed - he really couldn't see any evidence that they'd done anything other than sleep - or maybe Jimmy had been right; maybe they had simply passed out. He sank back down on the bed; just because there wasn't any evidence that they'd made love, it still didn't mean they hadn't done something - maybe they'd kissed and touched a bit or - If only he could remember; it would all be so much easier, so much better, if he could only remember.

 

He heard a faint noise and looked up. Jimmy was standing in front of him - a still naked Jimmy was standing in front of him. He swallowed hard and stood up swiftly staring into Jimmy's eyes instead of at Jimmy's naked body - his naked and desirable body.

 

Jimmy held his gaze for a moment or two before glancing away and looking down at the floor. He stood in silence before slowly looking back at Tim; he was chewing his bottom lip and looked troubled, uneasy. "Have I done something wrong, Tim?" he asked softly, with a hint of a quiver in his voice.

 

Tim shook his head. "No, Jimmy, of course you haven't." And without thinking about it, he put his hand on Jimmy's arm.

 

Jimmy glanced down at it and gave a tiny nod. "Have I said something wrong, then?"

 

Again Tim shook his head. "No, of course not."

 

Jimmy didn't reply he just went on staring at the hand Tim had on his arm. Then he sighed softly and slowly looked at Tim. "In that case why are you . . . Why are you behaving as if you don't want to be, can't bear to be, in the same room as me?"

 

"I'm not!"

 

"Yes, Tim, you are. As soon as I woke up you got out of bed."

 

"I needed to pee."

 

Jimmy shrugged. "Fine. But as soon as I came into the bathroom you fled."

 

"I thought you'd want a bit of privacy."

 

Jimmy shrugged again. "That didn't seem to bother you last night," he said softly.

 

"You remember last night?" Tim asked, feeling a chill race through him as his heart rate increased and his body tingled.

 

Jimmy shrugged for a third time and sighed. "Bits of it. You?"

 

Tim nodded. "Bits of it," he said softly. And then suddenly, to his horror, he heard himself blurt out, "Jimmy, did we make love?"

 

Jimmy's eyes widened and to Tim's shock and dismay he began to laugh. "Oh, Tim," he said, as tears slipped down his cheek. "No, don't look at me like that, please, Tim, don't." He caught Tim's hand and held it firmly. "I'm not laughing for the reason you might think I'm laughing."

 

Tim just stared at him. "Really?"

 

"Yes. Look, I don't know about you, but I know my body. Put it this way, Tim, I couldn't have - not even if I'd wanted to."

 

For the second time Tim heard himself speak without meaning to. "And did you - want to, I mean? Would you have? If we could have?" he demanded, when Jimmy didn't instantly answer him.

 

Jimmy swallowed and smiled at Tim; the smile seemed a little nervous, uncertain, hesitant. He swallowed again and Tim saw him tense slightly. "Yes, Tim," he said softly, his voice trembling just a little. "Yes, I would have. I can't tell you for sure if I wanted to - because I don't remember enough of what I felt. Only that . . ." He fell silent.

 

Tim's heart sank; he understood; he understood fully. Okay, so now he knew, he could deal with it. Surely they could agree just to - Well, just to put it down to too much to drink; they'd shower, he'd give Jimmy the money to get a cab home and on Monday it would be as if nothing had - "I'm sorry?" he said, "what did you say?"

 

Jimmy took a step towards him and then another. "I said," he said, licking his bottom lip, "only that I had never felt so . . . So as if I belonged. I felt, oh, this will sound silly, but I felt safe and -" he broke off and under Tim's eyes he flushed just a little.

 

Tim realized that somewhere down the line he'd stopped breathing and now he took a deep breath in and let it out. "And now?" For the third time he spoke without really meaning to. "I mean -"

 

Jimmy took another step towards him and the next second Tim felt Jimmy's lips on his. The kiss was fairly brief, but when Jimmy lifted his mouth from Tim's, Tim found he was trembling from the what he could only describe as 'beauty' of the kiss and he had the beginnings of an erection.

 

"Now," Jimmy whispered, letting his fingertips move down Tim's cheek and neck where they came to rest on his chest. "Well, Tim, I was wondering if your shower was big enough for two people?"

 

It was - just. They had to stand fairly closely together, but that was a good thing, not a bad thing, and it seemed easier to wash one another - it meant less elbows hitting flesh - than to wash themselves. Again, Tim saw that as a good thing, not a bad thing. Once they'd sluiced water from one another's bodies, Jimmy put his arms around Tim and put his mouth on Tim's again. This time the kiss was not brief, and by the time they parted, both of them were breathing hard and their erections were more than obvious.

 

Tim gasped as Jimmy's soapy hand closed around him. "Have you . . . Have you done it before?" he managed to blurt out.

 

Jimmy shook his head. "Have you?"

 

"A couple of times at school, but not since."

 

Jimmy smiled. "I'm sure we'll figure it out, won't we? After all I am a doctor."

 

And with those words his grip became firmer and he began to stroke Tim as his mouth once more claimed Tim's.

 

Tim grabbed Jimmy's shoulder and held onto him as he concentrated on staying upright - not that falling down given how small the shower was would have been easy - and returning Jimmy's passionate kisses.

 

"Jimmy!" he cried some minutes later as he ejaculated into Jimmy's hand. He clutched Jimmy's shoulders even more tightly as he breathed heavily and blinked to clear his eyes.

 

He gazed into Jimmy's eyes and knew this was it; he had found the person he would be spending the rest of his life with; the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And as he stared at Jimmy, as Jimmy gazed at him he knew one thing: at least Abby wouldn't be jealous of Jimmy.

 

 

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