Ashleigh Anpilova


Gibbs and Ducky meet for the first time and sparks fly.

A first time story.

Written: June 2008. Word count: 5,110.





On his way to meet up with Mary-Beth, Jethro Gibbs rounded a corner far too fast and ran straight into another man, knocking him off-balance and causing him to stumble.


Acting on his well-honed instincts, he caught the man's arm and steadied him. "Sorry," he said, holding the man, who was some six inches shorter than he was, firmly and easily. "Are you okay?" he added, as he steadied the man with his other hand as well. As his hand touched bare flesh he felt a fission of electricity race through him, and had to bite down on his lips to stop himself from gasping out loud.


"Yes, thank you. Just a little shaken, that is all. But really I am fine." The man looked up at him and smiled.


As he looked down in the mid-blue steady gaze, Jethro felt the electricity begin to sizzle even more, passing through his body and heading steadily down to his groin. To his amazement he felt himself begin to harden. He swallowed hard, trying to force some moisture into his suddenly dry mouth. What the hell was happening?


He'd known from a fairly young age that he could be attracted to his own sex as well as the opposite sex. However, having decided that he wanted to become a Marine, he'd forced that side of him away, refusing to act on any hint of attraction, and instead concentrated on studying and girls - not necessarily in that order. But this was different. Never before had he had such an instant and intense reaction to anyone.


He wanted this man.


He wanted him now.


He wanted him so much it hurt.


He swallowed again and desperately tried to think of something to say - something other than 'I want you'. What the hell was he thinking anyway? He didn't know the man from Adam and had no idea if he was gay, straight or bi - and even if he did like men, which something suddenly told Jethro he did, why would he like or be interested in Jethro?


He suddenly realized the man had spoken. His brain processed the accent if not the words; his companion was British and sounded extremely well spoken. "I'm sorry," he said, cursing himself as he heard his mouth stumble over the words. "What did you say?"


The other man smiled a little more and his eyes twinkled as he continued to gaze up at Jethro. "I said I am quite all right now, perfectly steady. You may let go of me." He paused for a split second and then added, his voice suddenly lower, "Assuming you wish to, of course."


Jethro felt himself harden even more and was damn grateful he'd pulled a sweater on before leaving home. He mentally shook himself; this was ridiculous; he was behaving like a thirteen year-old kid, not a twenty-one year-old man. He'd just let go of the man and walk away. "I don't know what you mean," he found himself saying.


The other man just raised his eyebrows and as Jethro looked at him, he saw amusement together with desire in the steady gaze. "Do you not?" he said, his voice low, but heavy with the same desire Jethro saw in his eyes. He moved the hand Jethro wasn't still holding and ran his fingers over the back of Jethro's hand.


Jethro hissed and again felt himself harden yet more; sweater or not, his arousal would be obvious soon. "Can I buy you a drink?" he managed.


The other man stared up at him; Jethro could see him considering the offer and his response. He watched as under his stare the blue eyes seemed to change color slightly, becoming darker, more intense. "Or we could just go back to my hotel room and go to bed," the man finally said.


"What?" Jethro couldn't believe what he was hearing.


"Well you do want, do you not? And I can assure you the feeling is mutual, so . . ." He trailed off.


"You do this thing often?"


The man smiled again. "Actually, no. It's a first for me also."


"You've never slept with a man before?" Jethro inwardly winced at how heavy with incredulity his voice was.


To his surprise and relief the other man chuckled slightly. "No, that is not what I meant. I, unlike you, am gay and have indeed slept with a man before. What I meant was that it is not only the first time I have made such a suggestion to a man who is not gay, but also that I have made such a suggestion without getting to know the man in question first - at the very least over dinner and a drink, and usually more time than that. I am correct, am I not? You are not gay and you have never slept with a man before?"


For a split second Jethro considered lying. But then common sense as well as some nagging voice that told him this was not a man you lied to, kicked in. He shrugged. "No, I haven't. Why? That a problem for you?"


Again the blue eyes twinkled with mirth. "Not at all. However, one thing is."




"Well, as yet I do not even know your name."


"Huh? Sorry. Jethro Gibbs. Well Leroy Jethro, but no one calls me Leroy."


The man held out his hand. "Donald Mallard, but everyone calls me Ducky. I am pleased to meet you, Jethro."


Jethro took the proffered hand and clasped it. The warm and slightly surprising firm grip did nothing to calm his ardor - quite the opposite. "Pleased to meet you too," he paused for a fraction of a second, and then managed, "Ducky."


Ducky chuckled again. "I assure you it gets easier the second time you say it. Now, shall we go to my hotel before we end up being arrested for what I believe you call 'lewd and lascivious behavior'?"



Jethro barely registered the hotel as Ducky led him through the reception, into the elevator, along a corridor and into his room; although he did notice it was a very up market, expensive one.


He watched as Ducky locked the door and tossed his hat and coat onto a chair, before turning and moving towards Jethro. He moved closer and closer until he was well inside Jethro's personal space, so close that Jethro could smell his scent of pine trees, the sea and something he couldn't quite identify. So close that he had to tip his head back to meet Jethro's gaze, as he did his blond hair brushed over his collar.


Ducky waited.


Jethro swallowed. Suddenly he felt out of his depth. What did he do now? It was all very well him wanting Ducky, but what exactly did that mean?


Ducky put his head on one side as he looked at him. "It really isn't that different from being with a woman," he said quietly. "Of course I speak purely from what I have observed or read about, not from personal experience. The anatomy is a little different, but the basics are the same."


"Right," Jethro said, feeling very foolish.


Ducky smiled and put his hand on Jethro's arm. Once again the fission of desire raced through Jethro's body. "I imagine this is another first for you, is it not?"


Jethro frowned. "Huh?"


"You not quite knowing what to do, what to expect. You not being in control."


For a moment Jethro was speechless. How could this man know him so well? He knew he wasn't an easy man to read, people had told him that all his life, and he'd deliberately cultivated it. Yet Ducky, a man he'd met less than half-an-hour ago, seemed able to pick up on his deepest thoughts. Maybe this was a mistake.


"If you've changed your mind, or aren't certain, we could simply have that drink you suggested," Ducky said, his tone still low. "Although . . . "  He trailed off and let his gaze flicker down Jethro's body.


Jethro shook his head. "No," he said somewhat gruffly. "I want you. I just -" He was silenced as Ducky, moving swiftly, slipped his arms around his neck, tugged and pulled Jethro's head down where he found his mouth and began to kiss him.


After a fraction of a fraction of a second, Jethro put his own arms around Ducky, yanking him even closer until he could push his now aching and painful erection hard against Ducky's body and began to kiss Ducky back.


As he kissed Ducky, as he began his exploration into homosexual sex he noted several things, the most overwhelming being that Ducky could kiss, God could he kiss. His kisses alone were pushing Jethro nearer and nearer to the edge, and he could feel his shorts dampen as the kiss went on and on with no signs of abating.


He put his tongue to Ducky's lips and felt them part for him and he entered the warm, damp, sweet cavern that was Ducky's mouth. It felt new to him, yet at the same time amazingly familiar, as if somehow he'd known the man for years, had been kissing him for years.


He could see what Ducky meant, it really wasn't that much different, at least not yet, from kissing a woman - and yet it was utterly and totally different. He'd never been kissed by anyone in the way Ducky was kissing him; had never enjoyed kissing anyone as much as he enjoyed kissing Ducky. He never wanted to stop.


Finally though, it was Ducky who broke away; he was breathing hard, his cheeks were flushed, his lips swollen and his eyes had become virtually the color of ebonies with only the faintest hint of blue around them. He was looking at Jethro with a mixture of wonderment and something Jethro couldn't identify, but had a feeling was not necessarily a completely positive look. He wondered what he'd done wrong.


"Ducky?" Ducky had been correct, it did come more easily the second time, much more easily; in fact like the kiss, it seemed as his mouth had been saying it for years. "You all right? Is something wrong?"


"What?" Ducky seemed confused for a moment. Then the look and the confusion faded and he smiled. "I am fine, thank you, Jethro. More than fine, much more. As for something being wrong, I think the only thing that is wrong is that we are still both standing and both fully dressed. Come," he said, taking Jethro's hand and leading him across the room to the bed.


Once there, he pulled back the covers, turned back to Jethro and with ease removed his sweater. "Mmm," he murmured, as he dropped it on a chair and let his gaze again come to rest on Jethro's lower body. Under Jethro's gaze, he licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and lightly brushed he fingertips over Jethro's arousal.


Jethro gasped and felt himself harden even more as his body reacted and pushed itself forward of its own accord - it wanted more. It wanted much more - but not like that. He captured Ducky's hand, lightly holding it, stopping it from moving over him, as he, again against his conscious will, pressed into Ducky's palm.


And then, because it seemed the right thing to do, because he wanted to do it, he put his other hand on Ducky's own impressive arousal. The reaction was even stronger than his own had been.


Ducky's gasp was much louder, almost a whimper, as he pushed further forward and moaned. "Please."


'Please' what? Jethro wasn't completely sure, but as the touch had seemed to evoke such a strong reaction, he repeated it, letting his own fingers stroke Ducky, feeling him grow harder as he touched. He cupped the clear erection with his hand as Ducky moaned under the touch. "You like that?" he said softly.


Ducky's reply was incoherent, and he again grabbed Jethro's head and pulled it down for another kiss, pushing their bodies so closely together neither man could move his hand.


After yet more minutes of sublime kissing, Jethro broke away, slowly moved his hand from Ducky's body and instead began to divest Ducky of his jacket, bow-tie, shirt and undershirt. He stared down at the hair free, pale, silky skin that glistened slightly, looked at the hardened dark nipples and saw that again it wasn't that different. He reached out and let his fingers move over Ducky's chest, flirting with the smooth skin, touching, caressing, learning, exploring, taking great pride in Ducky's obviously delighted reactions.


More minutes went by as he continued to touch, stroke, caress and explore, before Ducky caught his hand, smiled and began to strip him of his shirt and undershirt. It was there Ducky froze, as his eyes alighted on the dog tags Jethro always wore. "You're a Marine?" he said, the surprise in his dark gaze clear.


Jethro nodded. "Yeah. That a problem?"


Ducky shook his head and then nodded once before refuting it again. "Not for me, but -"


"I'm not going to tell anyone. And you don't strike me a kiss and tell kind of guy," Jethro said, lowering his head and initiating, for the first time, a kiss. As Ducky's hands began to move over his naked back, he suddenly realized what a risk he was taking. He didn't know Ducky, he could be anyone, he could - but somehow he knew he was safe. He meant and believed his words; Ducky wasn't a 'kiss and tell' person.


The rest of the undressing went swiftly and before Jethro realized it he was standing naked in front of an equally naked Ducky. His erection, happy to be free of the confines of underwear and trousers was firm and hard and the air seemed chill against his heat. Ducky's gaze was affixed on him and under the steady, passion filled eyes, he felt himself harden yet more as well as leak. If he wasn't careful he was going to come before they did anything else. He swallowed hard and tried to think of something other than the man standing in front of him and how damn desirable and sexy he was.


Now that Ducky was naked the real difference between making love to a man and to a woman was obvious, both visually and through his scent. He too was erect and damp, but unlike Jethro himself, Ducky wasn't cut - it fascinated Jethro and he found his hand moving forward to touch. Ducky did have hair around his groin, a darker gold than on his head, but as Jethro tentatively touched, he found it was softer than his own.


As his fingers reached for Ducky, as they made fleeting contact with his heated hardness Jethro saw Ducky freeze. He knew why: this really was new, this really was uncharted waters. Sure he touched himself, to pee, to clean himself, and to pleasure himself and he enjoyed doing so - he enjoyed it very much. But touching another man so intimately was . . . "Bed," he found himself saying.


Ducky just nodded and moved backwards until he came into contact with the bed where he sat. It put his head at the same level as Jethro's groin and the next second Jethro found his heat surrounded by Ducky's mouth. He gasped and tried not to thrust forward too much. He tossed his head back, shut his eyes and for several seconds let himself wallow in what Ducky was doing; in what Ducky was doing so very well. So very well indeed. So well that if Jethro didn't stop him, it would all be over in seconds and he didn't want that.


He brought his head back up, opened his eyes and put his hands on Ducky's head, guiding it away. "Duck," he murmured, the name coming even more easily than 'Ducky' did.


Ducky looked up at him, he seemed perplexed. "Don't you like it that way?"


Jethro shook his head, saw the utter amazement flash over Ducky's face, before realizing what he'd implied. "No," he said. "It's not that. It's just I want more. I don't want it to be over so soon. I want . . ." He trailed off.


"To fuck me?" Ducky said quietly.


Jethro frowned. He had no idea why, but the word didn't sound right coming from the mouth he was already captivated by, the mouth that shouldn't say such profanities, and it sounded even stranger given Ducky's very upper-class accent. "No." He spoke a little more sharply than he'd intended. "No," he repeated, gentling his tone. "I don't want that."


Ducky's eyes widened. "You do not?"


"You think I did?"


"Well . . ." Ducky trailed off and glanced away. "I had assumed that -"


"As I wasn't gay that's all I thought gay sex was about?" To his amusement Ducky flushed. "Ah, Duck," he said, tangling his fingers in Ducky's heavy, silky hair as he began to stroke Ducky's face with his other hand, his fingers caressing Ducky's mouth.


Ducky moaned slightly and parted his lips, inviting Jethro to invade his mouth with his finger; Jethro did and Ducky began to lick and suck it, just as he'd - Jethro felt the reaction in his groin. This time he was forced to take his hand from Ducky's hair and grab himself, stopping the completion from happening.


Ducky let his finger fall from his mouth and smiled; pushing his head back and openly gazing up at Jethro was pleasure and a hint of smugness. He parted his legs a little more and Jethro's own gaze settled on Ducky's arousal. He wanted to touch it; he wanted to hold it; he wanted to stroke it; he wanted to pleasure Ducky; to explore Ducky; to learn Ducky; to lo -


With a swift movement he managed to maneuver them both so they were both now lying on the bed, wrapped in one another's embrace, the sheets were cool on his heated skin. "What I want, Donald Mallard," he murmured, putting his mouth under Ducky's sweet scented hair and finding his ear with his lips, "Is to make love to and with you. To learn you. To give you pleasure. To learn how to make love to man. To learn how to make love to you."


"Oh, Jethro," was Ducky's breathed response.


And that is exactly what he did.


For the next three hours he learned how to make love; not how to make love to a man, not even how to make love to Ducky, but how to make love.


Ducky had been correct; in many ways it wasn't that different from having sex with a woman, just a bit extra in one place and a bit less in another - it kind of balanced out.


Sure there were moment when he felt clumsy, stroking someone else to completion was different to doing yourself, not just in feel but in angle, and Ducky liked it slower and more gentle than he did. And he felt a bit foolish at times when he couldn't get it to go right, when he stumbled over the angle, his touch, what he was used to, but Ducky made it all right. Ducky made all the clumsiness and foolishness not disappear, but become part of what they were doing. Become part of what he was learning, part of his exploration.


Ducky's climax was different from his own; it was far less clinical, far less detached, and he enjoyed it. Not just the way Ducky gasped his name, or the way he climaxed with his entire body, or the way his eyes lost the last hint of blue, or the way he looked at Jethro, or the way he gripped Jethro's arms, but the way it felt on his hand, warm, smooth, clean, pure.


He liked the feel so much, that he took his time and coaxed Ducky to a second climax, before he even permitted Ducky to give him satisfaction. And that felt right too.


That felt the rightest thing he had ever done. The most perfect experience of his life thus far.


Ducky offered, more than once, to let him penetrate him, seeming almost perplexed when Jethro kept declining. He didn't know why he said no; after all it was what he did, what men did, and he was being offered it on a plate, but somehow it didn't feel the right thing to do. Not then. Not there. Not at that time. Not with him -



Freshly showered and feeling alive, truly alive, happy, content and at peace, he strode towards the door leading to the street. As the doorman jumped to open it for him, he stopped.


This was wrong.


This wasn't how it should be.


He couldn't do this.


Ignoring the man, who by now was casting less than surreptitious look at Jethro's not overly smart clothing, he turned on his heel and jogged back across the reception area.


He paused for a second to press the button for the elevator, but when the door failed to instantly open, he headed for the stairs instead. Taking them two, sometimes three at a time, he headed up the ten flights to Ducky's floor. He didn't know why he was rushing so much, it was hardly likely that Ducky was about to shower, dress, pack and leave, in a few minutes, but he knew he had to get to the room as quickly as he could.


Even though he was extremely fit, he still found himself having to pause outside Ducky's room and take several deep breaths and wait for his breathing and pulse rate to calm slightly. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, paused for another moment to consider what he was doing, raised his hand and knocked at the door.


He waited.


After what seemed like a lifetime, the door was opened. "Jethro!" Ducky, dressed in a toweling robe, his hair damp, stared up at him, his surprise clear. "Did you forget something?" he asked.


"Yeah," Jethro said, moving forward and forcing Ducky to move back into the room. "I did." He slammed the door behind him, paused the lock it and turned back to Ducky. To his horror Ducky now looked alarmed and had backed away several steps.


Jethro took a step towards him and Ducky took another back. He hastily stopped and held up his hands, palms out towards Ducky. "It's all right, Duck," he said, the name again coming easily. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you."


Ducky shook himself. "I'm sorry, Jethro. Please forgive me. I -"


Jethro shook his head. "Nothing to forgive, Duck."


"In that case, what may I do for you?" Now Ducky took a step forward and then another, closing the gap that had opened up between them.


Jethro swallowed and again paused for a moment, suddenly wondering if he was doing the right thing. But he was; he knew that. He'd known it from the moment his mouth had touched Ducky's, and probably even before that. "Can I see you again?" he asked.


Ducky's eyes widened making it clear to Jethro that whatever he'd been expecting that question had not been one of the options. "Well, I . . ." He began and Jethro felt like ten times of fool, and to his irritation also felt betrayed, let down and disappointed.


He shook himself. "Sorry. I shouldn't have come back," he said, turning towards the door.


The next second his arm was caught and held firmly; firmly or not, he could easily break the hold if he wanted to. But he didn't. But nor did he turn around. He just waited. "Look at me," Ducky said, his tone firmer than Jethro had yet to hear him use.


After a second or two, he obeyed turning round to face Ducky. "If you had let me finish, I was simply going to say that I would very much like to see you again. However, is that not likely to be somewhat difficult, not to say risky, dangerous even for you - for your career?"


Jethro shrugged. "Honest answer? I guess. But as I said, you aren't the type to kiss and tell and I've always kept my personal life to myself. The Marines might not condone homosexuality, but it goes on - and everyone knows it does. They just never speak about it."


"Don't ask don't tell," Ducky said softly.


Jethro nodded. "Yeah." He waited.


"Well, if you are quite certain . . ."


"I am."


"In that case, Jethro. I would be more than delighted to see you again."


Jethro exhaled as the relief coursed through him. "Good," he said. "In fact . . . "




"Well, you said earlier that normally you didn't sleep with someone without having at least a drink with them first and getting to know them."


"I did indeed."


"Well, I know we didn't do that, but I wondered if you'd like that drink I offered you a few hours ago?" Jethro to his surprise found himself holding his breath and waiting for Ducky's answer. He'd seen fleeting surprise pass through the, what he realized were, very open and revealing eyes, making him think that maybe Ducky had thought his only interest was more sex.


"I would like that very much indeed. In fact given the lateness of the hour, I suggest we make it dinner, if that is acceptable to you. The restaurant here is extremely good, they have an excellent chef and the wine list is one of the best I have come across, Unless, of course, there is somewhere else you have to be?"


Jethro shook his head; okay, so he should have been somewhere else, but that was over three hours ago - Mary Beth would hardly still be waiting for him. Somewhat guiltily he realized he didn't care whether she was or not, he had no interest in seeing her. "Sure, that'd be good. Only . . ."




"Well, I'm not exactly dressed for dinner, not here. Not anywhere really."


Ducky frowned slightly and looked at Jethro, as if actually seeing, taking in, his clothes for the first time. As Jethro watched him, he realized it wasn't an act, Ducky wasn't pretending, he genuinely hadn't noticed what Jethro was wearing. "Well we could, if you prefer, have room service. However, I assure you that nothing will be said or even implied if we eat in the restaurant."


"You sure?" Jethro said, his tone tinged with disbelief.


"Yes, I am. However, if you'd feel more comfortable eating here, that can easily be arranged. It's just that . . . " Under Jethro's gaze Ducky trailed off and blushed slightly.


Jethro found himself laughing. "You think if we stay up here we'll end up not getting to know one another?"


Ducky's eyes twinkled with mirth and he chucked softly. "I am sure we would 'get to know one another'," he said, letting his gaze again flicker up and down Jethro's body. "However -"


Jethro closed the gap completely between them, tugged Ducky into a loose embrace, bent his head and lightly kissed him. "I want more than that," he said, still somewhat surprised at himself. "I want to get to know Donald Mallard, not just his body."


Ducky leaned into the embrace and offered his mouth for a brief kiss. When he pulled away, he looked sublimely happy. "In that case, why do you not pour yourself a drink, I have a selection of scotch and other spirits in the drink's cabinet, as well as some beer in the refrigerator, through in the sitting room." He nodded towards a door Jethro hadn't even noticed before - so this wasn't just a hotel room, it was a hotel suite. He swallowed and avoided the urge to run his shoes on the back of his trousers. "I'll finish my shower and then we can go downstairs and have a meal and talk. And then -" He silenced himself and glanced away.


"And then?" Jethro said, putting his hand under Ducky's chin and tilting it up.


"I was going to suggest that you might wish to spend the night here, but that was being more than a little presumptuous. Please -"


Jethro silenced him, in what he realized could quite easily be his favorite way. "I'd like that, Duck," he said, when he released Ducky from the kiss. "I'd like that very much."


Ducky beamed. "Good," he said. "So would I." He gazed up at Jethro.


As he looked down into the steady blue stare, Jethro realized if he didn't move very soon, the only place they would be going was back to Ducky's bed - and he didn't want that. "I'll go and get that drink," he said, turning away slightly.


"And I'll finish my shower."


"Oh, by the way, tell me something to be going on with."


"What do you want to know?"


"What do you do, for a living, I mean?"


"I'm a doctor. A surgeon to be exact." And with that, Ducky turned and moved towards the bathroom. As he watched him go, Jethro realized for the first time that he limped slightly, only very slightly, it was barely perceptible, but it was there. He wondered what had caused the limp and whether he should mention it or wait until Ducky told him.


As the bathroom door was pushed to, but not closed completely, Jethro pulled his mind away from thoughts of Ducky limping and crossed to the door leading to the sitting room. A surgeon? Maybe that had something to do with just how good Ducky was with his hands, how well he seemed to know the human body. How well he -


He stopped his mind from the carnal thoughts, aware that if he didn't, he wouldn't be pouring himself a drink, but would be shedding his clothes and joining Ducky under the shower and as much as he wanted to do that, he knew it could wait until later.


Before that there were other things to do. As he snagged himself a beer from the icebox and flipped off the top, he realized he was really looking forward to getting to know Ducky; of getting to know the man, or learning about him, outside of the purely physical


Something told him it wasn't something he was going to do that in one evening. That thought made him very happy. It made him very happy indeed. 



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