HEALING HANDS
By
Ashleigh Anpilova
Ducky has had a long, tiring fortnight and aches badly, so Jethro decides to make him feel better.
An established relationship story.
Written: May 2007. Word count: 4,000.
Ducky was tired and he ached. He ached badly. He ached very badly indeed. In fact he ached in places that he wasn't even aware he could ache. The past two weeks had been long and arduous ones, where twelve-hour days were the norm, and most of those hours had been spent on his feet, bending over bodies and looking at x-rays.
Ducky sighed.
It was all very well Jethro insisting that he wasn't old, but at sixty-six, that kind of fortnight made Ducky feel old. Very old. Very old indeed. Far older than his sixty-six years. It was far too strenuous, he felt, for a man of his age.
For a man of any age.
His lover, some twelve years younger than Ducky, who had put in at least sixteen hours to Ducky's twelve, was also showing signs of over-tiredness. As were the children - and they were decades younger than Ducky was. So of course he was tired; and irritable; and full of aches and pains; and beginning to seriously consider retirement, or at least semi-retirement.
What he needed now was an extremely long, very hot bath, a large drink or two, and his lover - and not necessarily in that order.
Jethro, however, was still at the office and, despite the case finally being sewn up and all the loose ends dealt with, was likely to be there for some hours.
Ducky sighed.
Usually he admired Jethro's dedication to duty, but just occasionally he wished he wasn't so zealous about it. He knew where he came in Jethro's priorities, but at the moment he wished to be shown that he was the most important thing in Jethro's life. The fact that he was wishing such a thing proved just how tired he was.
The long hot bath would necessitate him climbing the stairs, something he did not relish. Fortunately he didn't need a bath, he'd availed himself of the facilities at the office, in the hope that by the time he'd finished, Jethro would be ready to leave. He hadn't been. Thus it wasn't as much the bath that Ducky wanted, but a soak. However, even the prospect of healing his aching limbs was lessened by the idea of getting up and hauling himself up stairs.
Ducky sighed.
And even if he did have the energy to climb the stairs, taking a bath alone might be more than a little risky, given how tried he was. Driving home had used up his already exhausted supply of energy.
Even the large drink, which would help reduce his aches in other ways, would mean him moving from his armchair. And that in itself was not something he felt able or willing to do. Not yet at least.
Ducky sighed.
It was all very well having an excellent collection of pure malt scotch, including the ones he knew perked him up, if he didn't have the energy to move to pour himself one in order to be perked up.
As he slumped in the chair he became aware that what he needed even more urgently than any of the hitherto list of things, was to relieve himself. And to do so quickly. He just wasn't certain he had the energy to move to do so.
Ducky sighed.
The human body could be remarkably annoying and inconsiderate and inconvenient at times. Maybe if he touched himself, aroused himself, that might prevent his need. But no, doing so involved far too much effort.
Maybe . . .
He was shocked out of his stupor, when he caught himself looking at the sitting room bin, which was in easy reach of his hand, and seriously considering using it. He shook his head and determinedly pushed himself to his feet. What on earth was he thinking? Considering? He couldn't be that exhausted; that lacking in self-control.
As he reached the door to the sitting room, he heard the front door opening, and immediately he felt a wave of pleasure sweep over him. "Jethro," he murmured, going out into the hall. "You're home."
Ducky sighed.
This time with happiness.
"Hey, Duck." Jethro dropped his briefcase and tugged Ducky into his arms. "God, you feel good," he said, several moments later. He looked down at Ducky then and frowned. "And you look exhausted."
"I must confess that I am a little tired, my dear," Ducky said.
"Not surprised. We all are. Ziva even feel asleep at her desk."
"She didn't?" Ducky was amazed.
"She did. Denied it, or tried to. Claimed she was just thinking. But the poor kid was beat. Told DiNozzo to take her home."
"And put her to bed?" Ducky enquired innocently.
Jethro chuckled. "Nah. Thought that might be going a bit too far. Talking of bed . . ." He trailed off and leered down at Ducky. "You feel up to a bit of gentle cuddling?"
Ducky sighed.
"I am afraid, my dear, that is all I am likely to be up to. However, before I even attempt the stairs, there is something far more pressing that I need to take care of." He smiled softly and carefully extracted himself from Jethro's embrace; aware that he had about thirty seconds before he did something he hadn't done since he was a toddler.
As quickly as he could, he turned and began to limp towards the downstairs cloakroom, grateful that they had such a thing. Nonetheless, although it was only at the end of the hall, suddenly it seemed like a mile away.
He wasn't surprised when Jethro caught up with him and slipped his arm around his shoulders, letting Ducky lean against him. "Leg hurt a lot, Duck," he said, his tone sympathetic.
"Somewhat more than usual," Ducky confessed, suddenly aware of quite how much the 'somewhat' was. He put his own arm around his lover's back and allowed Jethro to take his weight.
"Not the only thing either, is it?" Jethro asked, as Ducky hissed when a sharp pain shot down his neck and back as he reached for the door handle of the cloakroom.
Ducky sighed.
"I'm afraid, dear, that whatever you say about me not being old, I have spent far too many hours on my feet during the last two weeks, bending over tables and digging into bodies, than is good for me. I believe that my kinks have kinks of their own."
Utterly unconcerned by the fact that not only did his lover guide him into the cloakroom but stood behind him massaging his neck and shoulders, Ducky took care of his by then more-than-just-urgent need. He sighed with relief and let himself sag back slightly against the taller, firmer body, as his bladder emptied.
"Reckon you needed that," Jethro said softly, as his gun-callused fingers dug into Ducky's neck muscles.
As he felt the painful knots begin to work themselves free, Ducky sighed again, this time with contentment. "Yes, I did, extremely badly," he admitted; although he would not be admitting what he had given serious consideration to only moments earlier. He was still more than a little ashamed at himself for even contemplating it.
Not that Jethro would be in the slightest perturbed; Ducky knew that. His lover's Marine background meant that he was remarkably relaxed, unashamed and unfazed by such things as natural bodily functions, more so than Ducky himself had been, until he'd become intimately involved with Jethro. Also, Ducky had accompanied his lover on more than one flight were the facilities consisted of a plastic bag.
He remembered Jethro telling him how embarrassed poor Caitlin had been when Jethro had handed her one to deal with her own urgent need, as well as telling her, less than chivalrously, that if she needed some privacy she could go behind the boxes. Ducky had chided his lover gently when he'd told him that, reminding him how much easier it was for a man to relieve himself relatively unobtrusively, than it was for a woman to do the same. The fact that neither Jethro nor DiNozzo would probably have bothered moving from their seats in order to relieve themselves, did not mean that Kate, or any woman, would be willing to do the same.
No, Jethro wouldn't have been in the least bothered by what Ducky had considered. However, to Ducky's mind it was one thing to be forced into something like that when there was no other choice, or when one was outside, quite another when the proper facilities were within a few yards.
"Mmm," he murmured, as Jethro found a particularly large knot. "That is good, my dear. Very good. However, I think you'd better stop for a moment."
Jethro did, but didn't move his hands. "Why, Duck?"
Ducky sighed.
"Because it is relaxing me more than is advisable, and shutting my eyes would not be a good idea."
"Ah, Duck," Jethro ruffled his hair. "Shut your eyes if you want, I'll take care of you." He moved one hand down to Ducky's wrist. Ducky however demurred, and continued to simply rest against his lover.
"Now," Jethro said moments later, when Ducky zipped up his trousers and turned stiffly around to wash his hands. "Why don't you let me take you upstairs, undress you and then give you a proper massage? Would you like that?"
Ducky would.
Ducky would very much.
He looked up at Jethro and blinked in an effort to focus on the handsome face. He tried not to frown at how haggard his lover looked. The habitual dark circles under the brilliant blue eyes, not only had dark circles of their own, but even they had dark circles. "I would indeed, dearest. However, surely you are too are exhausted? Why don't we just go to bed and sleep?"
"I'm tired but hyped, Duck. Too much coffee, I'm afraid. Besides, if you go to sleep like this, you'll wake up stiff."
Ducky cocked an eyebrow at the comment, but the effort was only a half-hearted one. It elicited a gentle smile, and a kiss on the nose from Jethro, before he was carefully and securely turned and guided towards the stairs.
Had anyone asked Ducky only moments before to climb the stairs, Ducky would have said he could not possibly do so, not even to fulfill his wish for a long, hot bath. However now, supported by his lover with the prospect of something far better than mere hot water on his body, he found that he was able to do so.
They reached their bedroom, and after guiding him to sit down on their bed, Jethro left Ducky long enough to pull the curtains and put on the bedside lamps, thus plunging the room into darkness, lit only by the soft, gentle glows of the lamps. When he returned, he pulled off his overcoat and jacket and turned his attention to undressing Ducky.
The undressing was more clinical and detached than Jethro's usual style, as he became carer rather than lover, but Ducky nonetheless reveled in the attention. Now he did let his eyes close and just enjoyed the feel of his lover's hands stroking his body.
He felt his trousers unbuttoned and unzipped before they and his shorts were removed. Soft, warm lips then touched him, nuzzling him and kissing him gently. However, although Ducky took immense pleasure in the intimacy of the touches, they did nothing to arouse him. Not even when Jethro replaced his lips with his hand and stroked Ducky in just the way Ducky liked to be caressed, did he feel even a hint of a stirring. Given that the last time they had gone to bed together for anything other than sleeping, was over two weeks ago, he was vaguely irked at the way his body was again letting him down.
He settled back on the bed, spreading his legs a little to give Jethro better access and concentrated on the touches and who was stroking him. Still nothing. With a sigh, he said softly, "That, my dear, is one area that is not stiff."
Jethro laughed softly and ruefully. "Yeah, noticed that, Duck. You know if I didn't know how exhausted you were, I might start to worry about my technique. Or whether you'd gone off me."
"Your technique is wonderful, my dear. And the chances of me ever 'going off you' are as impossible as the sun failing to rise tomorrow. My body, however, is simply too tired at the moment."
Jethro kissed him once more, before moving away and standing up. "Shouldn't have done it anyway, we came up here for a different reason. Let's get you on the bed, then I can do a proper job of sorting your aches out." He helped Ducky swing his legs around and settled him comfortably. "Back in a minute," he said, and left the bedroom.
Again Ducky closed his eyes and wriggled into the firm softness that was their bed.
A few minutes later he sensed his lover's return and forced his eyes open. Jethro was laden down with towels, a bowl of what appeared to be hot water, a bottle of baby oil, plus a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
"I wasn't aware we had started to keep whiskey in our bathroom," Ducky said, as he smiled up at his lover.
"Thought you could do with a drink, know I could, so I went downstairs. Made sure the door was locked and bolted too, and I turned the heating up, don't want you catching cold while I massage you. Oh, and I put the answer-phone on, " Ducky widened his eyes at that. "Jenn placed the entire team on official forty-eight hour leave, so I wanted to make sure we weren't disturbed."
"That is the best thing I have heard for far too many days."
"Thanks, Duck." Jethro's tone was wry.
"With the exception of the things you say to me, of course," Ducky hastened to reassure. Not that Jethro would need it, but the gentle banter felt too good to pass up. Even their usual day-to-day exchanges and conversations had suffered from the long, arduous and stressful hours.
"Hmmm." Jethro gave him a quick kiss, before beginning to organize Ducky, putting towels between him and the bed, and helping him roll over onto his front. "Drink now or later?" he asked, before maneuvering Ducky.
"Later, I think. I do not believe I have the energy to lift my head at the moment."
"You'll feel better soon, I promise. You just relax, close your eyes and enjoy." Ducky heard his lover kick off his shoes and then felt the bed sag a little as Jethro climbed on it.
Moments later as Jethro's warm, slick hands began to firmly stroke and knead his back, neck and shoulders and upper arms, he knew the promise was not a false one. "Mmm," he murmured, wriggling slightly under the sure touches, as he made himself even more comfortable.
"Like it, do you?" Jethro's lips found Ducky's ear.
"Oh, very much indeed." Ducky managed.
"Good."
Talking suddenly became too much of an effort. So instead Ducky just concentrated on the pleasure and relief his lover was giving him as he continued to manipulate all of Ducky's knots and kinks.
His lover was good. His lover was very good. His lover was very good indeed. He knew exactly how and where to touch Ducky, but then he always had done. He knew just the right amount of pressure to use, and when to pause and stroke rather than press. It was both the massage of a professional and of a lover, as some of the touches were far more intimate than strictly necessary.
Jethro moved further down Ducky's body taking his time over each area. Soothing when Ducky winced slightly as his fingers found a particularly nasty knot, trickling more oil from time to time, and pausing to flirt with Ducky's skin with the tips of his fingers.
When he reached Ducky's right thigh, Ducky parted his legs a little more and groaned with a mixture of pleasure and respite, as the strong hands that regularly caressed a gun, began to caress and manipulate his entire thigh.
As Jethro's knuckles brushed, accidentally or on purpose, against Ducky's inner thighs and groin, although Ducky murmured and shivered with joy at the intimacy of it, he found that he still had no hint of an arousal; not from Jethro's touches, nor from the way he was pressed into the bed. Not even when Jethro paused his ministrations with one hand and quite deliberately fondled Ducky with oil slick fingers, stroking him in the exact way and place Ducky liked to be caressed, did he begin to harden. He felt a tiny twitch, but nothing more.
Jethro turned his attention to the left thigh, giving it the same attention as he'd lavished on Ducky's right. "Not hurting you, am I, Duck?" he asked softly.
"Oh, no dear. Not at all. You really are extremely good at this. If you ever wanted to change careers, you could make yourself a lot of money. Not that I'd allow you to have any clients but myself, of course," Ducky added.
Jethro chuckled. "Ah, Duck," he ran two oiled fingers the entire length of Ducky's spine, and chuckled again as Ducky made his bliss very clear. "Wouldn't want anyone but you," he said.
"Good," said Ducky happily.
Jethro continued his way down Ducky's legs, massaging knee and calf muscles, taking away the worst of the pain and tightness from which Ducky had been suffering. He even found that the draining, total exhaustion was beginning to fade a little, and the prospect of sitting up and having a drink now seemed an achievable one. But not yet. Not just yet. He'd happily succumb to more of the same treatment for quite a while.
He closed his eyes again and sighed with contentment as his body became even more relaxed; so much so he felt weightless and boneless. Although naked, he was nice and warm, not just from Jethro's ministrations, but because his lover was taking care to cover up the parts of Ducky that he'd already worked on with soft, warm towels.
He wasn't certain how much time had gone by when Jethro said softly, "Want to turn over, Duck, so I can get to your front properly?"
Ducky stretched and wriggled a little. "I'd like that very much," he said.
"I'll just wash the worse of this oil off first." The next moment Ducky felt Jethro's hands replaced with a warm, damp flannel, and his back and thighs were cleansed with care and attention, before his skin was thoroughly and gently dried. He decided that giving bed-baths was another of his lover's talents; one that he also had no intention of sharing with anyone else.
Once he'd finished, Jethro touched Ducky's arm. "Come on then. That's it; turn this way. Careful, Duck. Don't go undoing all my good work." Slowly, with Jethro's help, Ducky turned over, taking care to keep the towels under him.
"Want that drink now?" Jethro, who was kneeling back on his heels by Ducky's side on the bed, asked.
"I do believe a small one would be very pleasant indeed, my dear."
"That a yes?"
Ducky smiled. "Yes, dear."
As Jethro knelt up higher and reached across Ducky to snag the bottle and glasses, Ducky noticed something. He might still be unaroused but his lover wasn't. "Mmm, Jethro," he murmured, brushing his fingertips over the hardness.
Jethro hissed and sank back onto his heels, clutching the glasses and bottles. Ducky widened his eyes; more than thirty years of making love to and with Jethro had taught him every one of his reactions, no matter how small. His lover only made that particular noise when he was hovering on the edge of completion, and his need was intense.
"Told you I was too hyped on coffee," Jethro said a tad guilty, as Ducky continued to stare at him. "Plus touching you always turns me on, you know that."
"Not quite always, my dear," Ducky answered pedantically. "I am pleased to say."
Jethro frowned. "Huh?"
"I enjoy your attention at the office, I enjoy it very much. However, it is something I would not have if merely hugging me or putting your hand on my shoulder aroused you."
Jethro rolled his eyes in the way he always did when Ducky became pernickety. "Here," he handed Ducky a glass. "Want a hand sitting up?"
Ducky accepted both offers. "Thank you." He sipped the whiskey, and let his gaze deliberately travel from Jethro's face, down his body to his groin, where it lingered.
"Duck," Jethro growled. "Don't."
"Don't what?" Ducky used his innocent tone.
"Look at me like that. And don't do that!" he added, pulling back a little, as Ducky touched him.
"Why not, my dear?"
"Because I want to finish taking care of you first. And don't pout, Duck. I promise you can touch me as much as you want later." He softened his tone and began to stroke Ducky's hand.
"Oh, very well," Ducky sighed, as he finished his drink and let himself become prone once more. "But," he added conversationally as Jethro hissed again as he moved and his trousers pulled across his hardness, "I think you might regret it. Why don't you take the rest of your clothes off; it might cause you less discomfort?"
Jethro adjusted himself slightly, pressing his lips firmly together as his own hand brushed against his arousal. "If I take my clothes off, Duck, we'll end up making love."
"And the problem with that would be?"
"I wanted to make you feel better. To relax you. De-kink all your kinks," Jethro answered, as his fingers began to lightly touch Ducky's chest and stomach, before moving slowly downwards. This time Ducky felt more than a twitch.
"I assure you, my dear, that I feel considerably better, very relaxed, and most of my kinks have been de-kinked," Ducky answered silkily, pushing his lower body upwards a little into his lover's hand.
"Only most of?" The dark blue eyes, still heavy with dark shadows, became even darker under Ducky's gaze. Jethro's tone was husky, as he continued to caress, definitely caress, not massage, Ducky.
"Well, you wouldn't want me to be completely kink free now, would you, my dear?" Ducky enquired, his tone innocent, as his eyes came to rest on where his lover was, clearly unconsciously, now touching himself as well as Ducky.
Gently he knocked Jethro's hand aside, replacing it with his own. "I think that I can do that far better than you can. Do you not?"
"Ahh. Yeah, I do. All right, Duck, you win." And after bending to quickly kiss Ducky, Jethro tugged the rest of his clothes off, tossed the towels off the bed, pulled back the covers, maneuvering Ducky carefully as he did so, and guided his lover beneath them.
Whether it was the caffeine, or the fact that Jethro was twelve years younger than him, or because that they hadn't made love for over two weeks, or just being naked next to a naked Ducky, or a combination, Ducky didn't know. But whatever it was, Ducky was pleased, because it allowed him to take his time over pleasuring Jethro for the second time, rather than having his lover climax within scant seconds of him touching his heated, naked, erect flesh.
As he felt himself begin to slip into sleep, no doubt aided by the now one hundred percent sensual massage Jethro was bestowing on him, Ducky remembered that for the first time in two weeks, they wouldn't be getting up whilst it was still dark.
In fact, if they didn't want to, they wouldn't actually have to get up at all, certain basic needs aside, for the next couple of days. Maybe he should take the time to thank Jennifer when he next saw her.
Then thoughts of Jennifer and everything else faded, as Jethro kissed him.
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