NCIS, Gibbs/DiNozzo, "a head-slap really shouldn't turn him on"
A head-slap shouldn't turn him on. A head-slap really really shouldn't turn him on, particularly when his back is against the alley wall behind a decidedly-gay gentleman's club and Gibbs isn't just crowding him, but pressed up against him in a remarkable show of impulse undercover work, hiding their faces from the three men they've been following. Who have decided to stop for a smoke. Lovely.
Gibbs' lips brush against Tony's with each breath, simulating a kiss and almost but not quite touching. Groping hands pull him in by the ribcage, closing the distance Tony's managed to keep between them forcefully. Tony's head spins and he clutches at the wall and a safe place on Gibb's back as his sides are stroked and hips groped in a way that he really doesn't know how to respond to when it's Gibbs.
"Tony," Gibbs hisses in his ear, bringing him back to reality.
"Yes, boss," he whispers. There's a hand holding him in place by his belt, lips moving against his jawline and when Gibbs reaches up on their hidden side to smack him, that's what does it. Tony gasps and fists his hands in Gibbs shirt as he finally, belatedly feels himself join in on the show. It takes a few moments for him to focus his eyes in the direction of the street. "They're still there. Smoking," he whispers.
"Good," Gibbs murmurs against his skin and Tony sighs in a way entirely unrelated to the play they're supposed to be putting on. The suspects glance in their direction and Gibbs is protecting his identity again, this time with his mouth, closed lipped on Tony's. Tony kisses back automatically and sighs as Gibbs hands soften on his back and sides. He forgets about the men he's supposed to be watching and for a long moment is at a loss to everything but Gibbs lips moving lightly against his own in a simulation of passion that is almost, nearly, too real.
Tony freezes in horrified anticipation as Gibbs leans forward that last inch to press their hips together. Gibbs falls into stillness against him without stepping back. Of course, he can't, they're still being watched, Tony reminds himself and is acutely sick to his stomach. If nothing else humiliated nausea is going to take care of his body's sudden interest soon enough. He doesn't dare breathe and is pretty sure he's about to throw up and/or die from shock induced suffocation against the brick wall when Gibbs' unmoving lips leave his own and suddenly there is stubble and sharp teeth on his neck, kissing and biting.
"Relax," Gibbs orders him sharply and Tony does, groaning with humiliation, but in the way that makes him knock his head against the brick wall, not the way he's sure Gibbs meant. Gibbs is bodily holding him up now and Tony's hands involuntarily move from the very safe place he's found on Gibbs waist to clutch at his back and hips to stay upright as Gibbs lips move from his no-doubt red and bruising tendons to create havoc beneath his ear. Tony gasps and he covers his own mouth with a fist, struggling to breathe and not simply straddle Gibbs thigh and let him go at him for real and really end his career.
Suddenly Gibbs' hands relax on his hips, simply holding him up now, and he lets up on Tony's neck to hide his face between his shoulder and the wall. Tony's pretty sure it couldn't be for any reason as mundane as letting Tony catch his breath. He glances around the back of Gibbs head to the street and sure enough the three men are gone.