I own nada zilch nothing! Just borrowing for them for the moment but will give them back safe and sound. Another Co-Write with the wonderful Nina
Something totally different to what I normally write...but we decided to have a go :P
It'll be written in first person mode, with myself as Gibbs and Nina as Kort
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+GIBBS+
I sit there watching the man I love flirting with once more with one of the ladies from HR and sigh as the stirrings of jealousy and longing once more stirs within my gut. I try to ignore how much I wish he'd speak to me like that and how it'll feel to have his strong hands running over my body, making me beg and fidget beneath him as he takes the control and tames the 'Great White' of 'Leroy Jethro Gibbs'. A snort escapes my throat at the thought and shake my head before barking "DiNozzo!"
He starts and gives me a smile before dismissing the woman "Yeah Boss?" I just stare at him with a blank look, inwardly smirking at the way he looks apologetic "Sorry Boss...Won't happen again Boss"
I shake my head "As if DiNozzo" and my gut flutters at the smile I get in return, but hide the smirk that crosses my face as I turn back to the computer.
I look up around an hour later and stretch out my back, grunting at the soft pop before standing "Alright people...that's enough for today, be here Monday 0600" with that I grab my badge and gun before leaving the building and head home.
I pace the floor as I have too much energy and chuckle as I realise how much coffee I've had but have been stuck on Cold Cases all frigging day. After nodding to myself, I run upstairs to change out of my dirty jeans and hoodie combo into a clean pair and a white button up before heading downstairs to grab my jacket and jog up to my truck. I sit there and take a deep breath as I start the vehicle and pull out of my drive as I head to the place no-one would ever think I go too.
As the Club comes to view, a soft smile crosses my face as I park a few feet away and I gaze at 'The Pink Rabbit'. No-one would ever believe that I wasn't as straight as many other Marines, granted I haven't had many male Lovers throughout the years and no long term ones since Langer. A pain shoots through my chest at the thought of his name and I shake myself out of my grief as I get out and lock up before entering the Club.
The music is deafening and I ignore the urge to cover my ears as I gaze around the Club to see if anyone picks up my interest. I head to the Bar and order a Bourbon neat, but turn as the seat beside me gets taken and a familiar British accent states "Mines a Scotch on the rocks"
+KORT+
This is the last place where I thought I could have found one like him. Well, I haven't got too much time to worry about myself...Probably he didn't even noticed me. At any rate, as I've stated, I can't put the accent in any worries. I am here to find...(What, you, dirty piece of waste...nauseating sod? What? Another furtive cock to suck, another anonymous arse to penetrate in a senseless way? Another unknown face you shan't see again?) And it's better if I shan't see these faces again...The Agency is very permissive in many senses (As it happened when they discovered the needle and the three flasks of heroin inside one of the drawers of my desk), but...homosexuality? (As my Father would have said 'Sodomy'!?) My Father baptized me as 'the Sodomite of the Family', when he discovered me in our garden, (Or what my poor Mother used to call 'Garden', because it was no more than a patch of land covered by dirt and garbage), and my hands inside Alfred Townsend's trousers. I could have avoided that...but Alfred was so beautiful, for God's sake, with those immense ice blue eyes and his dark chocolate hair falling all over his broad but delicate shoulders! Yes, the sodomite of the Family. A Family whose household head was a hopeless drunkard, always beating on everything and everyone. I knew about his attempts to force the poor innocent Rachel...She even had blood running down her legs and my Mother (Poor victim!), covering the monster when saying that 'it was the period'...he raped his own Daughter and I clenched my fists. Well, all of this comes back inside my Scotch and reflexes with all its hideous colours in each piece of ice.
+GIBBS+
I watch the emotions flashing across the normally cocky mans face as he gazes into the Scotch I have just brought and frown at the deep flash of sadness I spot. After glancing around (I don't know why...it is a Gay Club after all!) before discreetly patting the British mans leg, pausing as the jade eye snaps up to stare into my own Iced ones and shrug "What's up Kort? This isn't the place I would have ever pictured you in..."
He gives me a sneer and goes to leave, but I grab his arm and shake my head as he re-takes his seat. He eyes me up, like a snake with a mouse in its sight "It's not the place I ever 'pictured' you in...Leroy"
I bristle at the use of my first name and give him my infamous glare as I growl "Same here...Thomas"
+KORT+
He is always so dry, I can read everything and nothing in his voice. At once. In a flash. He cuts, he establishes the wall...almost the same wall I like to build between the world and I. His eyes remind me of that distant touch. Alfred Townsend had exactly the same eyes. Only that Alfred Townsend died of overdose more than twenty years ago, at age seventeen, in the darkest, dirtiest corner of White Chapel. He brings me back, however, many memories. Like that time, when we shared a bench in the memorial park and he stated 'Some day, our names shall be placed there, too' pointing at the wall that was showing the names of hundred of anonymous heroes. I laughed mockingly: I was everything but a hero...I am everything but a selfless fighter for truth. He has more the type: in fact, he IS the just type for that. I raise my eye (I know the queers call me 'The Pirate Thomas' and I don't dislike the statement) and fix it into his blue ones.
How they glow tonight! How these eyes are shining in the dim light of this large room, asking for something, begging for something! I never thought he could be one for begging. We are very look alike in this aspect. He asked me a favour and he gave me back it. Fact. Done. Past. Now I sense he is asking for something...I'm wondering if he would be capable of to beseech and make me know what is he craving for? I wait. I always wait. It has been my specialty for years. To wait and to kill the moving target. He is a Sniper and he can understand what I mean.
+GIBBS+
I glare at him before huffing and removing my hand as I break the eye contact between us and down my drink in one. A growl escapes my chest as the liquid burns my throat and I signal to the Barman for another while I refuse to pay anymore attention to the Brit next to me as I gaze out across the Club. I feel his eye watching me and try to ignore him as I try to find someone to fuck or get fucked by. A smile crosses my face as I spot a brunette 'Twink' looking nervously around the room and decide to try my luck
+KORT+
I can see him going to capture Lewis' attention. Lewis is an acceptable mouth and I can say I have had many agreeable hours of enjoyment while ravishing his arse (Pretty tight, maybe not enough for me, but...it can pass). But he is also very insubstantial, very...predictable. If I know Gibbs, as I think I do, he shall find him boring after the first half of hour. Lewis is a dildo with the ability to speak...and nothing more.
+GIBBS+
The kid practically rubs himself against me and I back away from the touching hands "Sorry Mate, you are not what I am looking for" with that I go to leave but get stopped by surprisingly strong arms wrapping themselves around my waist
"No please! Give me a chance! I-I have seen you here only a few times...and each time I have wanted you to choose me!" He glances to the Bar and my eyes follow, to spot Trent watching my with his jade eye "Please? Just one fuck? Then you can go back to 'The Pirate Thomas'"
A frown crosses my face (Pirate?) but I shake myself out of the confusion as I glance down into the kids blue eyes "You can suck me off...but I will not fuck you"
The kid nods and grabs my hand before dragging me out of the Club and into the alleyway.
I let out a grunt as my back hits the wall and I glance down as the kid attacks my belt before dropping to his knees and nuzzling my crotch. A deep growl escapes my chest as I grab him by the hair and glare at him "Suck me off...or forget it!" I feel him shiver in arousal as he frees my hard cock and a groan escaped my lips as he swallows me whole while a hand caresses and tugs at my balls. My head hits the wall with a thud as I gaze down with eyes slitted in pleasure and a smirk crosses my face as I get a good grip on his hair before lazily thrusting my hips into the wet heat. A rustling noise distracts me for a minute until I realise that the kid is stroking himself while worshiping my cock. I start to feel the tell-tale signs of my pending orgasm and slowly pick up the pace as I begin to fuck his face, groaning as the kids throat goes slack and my rhythm falters before I tug his face against my groin as I cum down his throat with a growled shout. My knees shake but I refuse to let it show as I release the kid from my hold and step away as I wait for him to get to his feet as I tuck myself away
"H-How was I?"
A deep chuckle escapes my chest as I pat his cheek "Not bad kid, not bad" with that we go our separate ways we head back inside
+KORT+
I can't do anything but clap my hands "That was amazingly brutal...or brutally amazing...You choose the place of each word in the phrase, Leroy"
"What were you doing here?!" he asks, his face pale, while arranging his trousers and doing up his belt, as quickly as he can
"What you see: watching, while smoking a cigarette"
He walks past me, almost pushing me in his pace.
I laugh "Going inside in five seconds to continue talking...Commander Leroy" I warn in loud voice And he replies, from inside, turning his back and giving me one of his infamous trade mark smirks
"Nothing to talk about, Pirate Thomas..."
+GIBBS+
I storm off and pace the floor by my truck (I can't believe he was watching you! Sick Bastard!). I gaze down in shock as I feel my cock twitch at the thought of being watched and sigh as I lean against the door of my truck. Once my heartrate calms down, I pull back and angrily punch the metalwork (Fuck!) with that I continue to hit it over and over again until my arm hurts like a bitch.
+KORT+
This Gibbs reminds me of one certain bloke from Hampstead...He used to punch the bodywork of his car until he broke it. Well, he generally was breaking his arm instead...I can't do anything but laugh at his stubbornness. He pretends to hide what he really is before the others, due to that stupid 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' issue...Totally nonsensical. Now I think I should approach him and give him a lesson. I'm in vein for teaching this evening...(Everything, Trent, everything that could make you forget the last iron princes on your flesh...Or maybe what you want to forget is the emptiness in Alfred Townsend's eyes that night, in the alley, when he died after to have received the overdose? Those empty eyes, Trent, those dead empty eyes fixed in the void...and that mouth, open, after to have articulated the first letters of your infamous name...)
+GIBBS+
I start as a hand grabs my arm and snarl as I turn...only to let out a startled gasp as Kort takes my lips into a possessive (And...desperate?) kiss. I bite his lip, tasting the coppery tang of his blood as I fight him for dominance. An answering growl copies my own and I end up pinned against my own truck as Kort literally ravishes me. A frown crosses my face as I note that my cock stands to attention at the feeling of being restrained and a growled groan escapes my lips as I watch him releasing our cocks before he grinds himself against me while biting my neck. My head rolls back with a thud against the door of my truck as I grind my pelvis against his, enjoying the sweet friction that sends sparks of pleasure up my spine.
+KORT+
I'm acting as what I am. A sick pervert, a depraved bastard. But I need to do this: I wanted to know (I always wanted to know) what in the bloody hell does this man have to make him superior to me...to everyone! Yes, yes, yes...everybody I have known desires this man for them! I have stalked him during these past few weeks and I must say in my favour that he has not even noticed this...too busy inside his own thought or too distracted by the one hundred covetous looks of the clientele. He seemed always to be looking for something...for someone?
I know I am not that something, nor that someone...but I have decided to play the game. Also...it feels so good, so monstrously good! I, Trent Kort, the infamous rogue that nobody likes nor wants nor loves, ravishing the hero, the perfect one, the honuorable, punctilious Leroy Jethro Gibbs, the man who never fails! It feels so good, so good, that the very thought can make me climax as never before!
+GIBBS+
At the feeling of Korts climax splattering both our stomachs, my own one quickly follows and I sink my teeth into his shoulder...hard enough to mark him as I scream out my second orgasm within the hour. Once finished, I lean against him as I attempt to get my breathing back under control and surprise myself (And by the way the body tenses, I reckon I surprised him also) as I nuzzle his neck before licking across it. He tastes...surprisingly sweet and slightly bitter, like a dark chocolate with a hint of rum and I find it...intoxicating...as I lick up to his ear and softly nuzzle him "How long have you been fantasizing about this?" I feel him attempt to pull away and I slit my eyes as I flip us, pinning him against my truck as I give him my most infamous glare "Tell me Trent...just how long have you wanted me?"
+KORT+
If I would be able to express it in words...maybe you would believe me, but then maybe you wouldn't. Perhaps since I saw you that morning, in the NCIS building...when I entered to state I had killed the French (Which was absolutely a lie, but...excuse me, I needed that lie to be able to return to the Agency in a proper position!). Call me a calculative one, but it was so anyway. Well, as I was saying...I spotted you and I desired you almost immediately. But then I thought: 'Trent, your good luck is useful only when performing your job. This man has been taken...and long ago'. I didn't understand myself, how I could think this way, knowing almost everything about your past (Your widowhood and the loss of your unique child). But I sensed you belonged to someone else. I wish I could tell you how I feel...but instead I keep my words to myself and shiver, thinking that it would be better if we open up to each other elsewhere, indoors and if possibly with a drink.
+GIBBS+
I notice the look he attempts to hide and spot the way he is fighting some kind of internal battle...as if he wants to speak to me? But is frightened of rejection?...I sigh as I nuzzle his neck but pause as I feel the shiver that runs through him and I only just notice the way the temperature has dropped. He tenses as I pull back and I smirk as I gently kiss his cheek "Fancy coming back to mine? We could sit by the fire with a bottle of Bourbon"
His eye narrows at me and I just give him my trademark half smirk as I get into my truck, after tucking myself away.
I watch him struggle with himself and frown (What has happen in your Past to make you react that way?) before smiling as Kort walks around and into the passenger side of my truck. I chuckle as he takes a seat and I place a hand on his thigh as I start my truck and head home.
+KORT+
And now I am here, inside his truck, lighting a cigarette while watching distractedly how the building diminish their size until become only houses, big houses, smaller ones...and contemplating the first raindrops of a storm (I have always loved the rain...The rain was my usual companion during the long days and nights of sometimes senseless surveillance, feeling the cold iron of my gun rubbing against my kidneys, so fatigued, so weary, with my mouth dry and my heart, or what had remained of it, even drier). Yes, the rain. The rain and this man, who is able to glimpse the mystery that lies beneath this mockingly mask: despondency, guilt and solitude...
+GIBBS+
The rain is beautiful and I watch it as it splatters against the windscreen.
A soft smile crosses my face as I spot my house and pull into my drive. The man beside me keeps quiet, a change from the man who had stolen my heart...the one man I can never have. I start as I sense movement and turn to spot a jade eye looking at me questioningly and I shrug "Wanna head inside?"
I don't give him a chance to answer as I leave my truck and walk through the pounding rain as I head inside, leaving the door ajar...letting him make his own mind up as I strip out of my wet clothes and start the fire.
+KORT+
I have no time to hesitate. Raising the lapels of my trench coat, I get out the car and follow him inside.
The house is pretty old style, but still comfortable, cosy...I always have loved these old houses with their unmistakable odour of many years of joys and sorrows. They hide stories in every corner. I'm wondering what story and how many old flames this hearth he is now fanning has inside the fire? I should be able to hear more closely to the crackling of these flames. I light another cigarette, discovering an old ashtray made with a seashell. Instinctively, I think of a lost home. Of an abandoned home. And I prepare myself to ask him what kind of pain his face is hiding behind his mask, that now looks beautifully enlightened by the bonfire.
+GIBBS+
I sit next to the fire only dressed in my boxers as I watch my 'Guest' enter and watch him as he looks around my home.
He stands there in his wet clothes and removes his trench coat, leaving it on the side as he gazes around my livingroom.
I cock my head to oneside as he lights a cigarette and my heart constricts slighty as he picks up the ashtray that Kelly and Shannon made with the shells from the last Family holiday we had together. I look away and into the fire, watching as the flames consumes the log...the wood snapping and crackling as it turns black before turning to ash. A sigh escapes my chest as I watch the oranges and reds burn...in the end, we all are ash...
+KORT+
He is thinking about Past and ashes. He must have hidden a remembrance into the ashes...I am sure he did. His face changed when I picked up the ashtray...what could this simple seashell tray mean to him? Memories? In this case, they must be sad...Or, better, joyful, tender memories that become the major pain when they are brought back in the grieving times. I dare to ask "What do you think about?"
He doesn't look at me, nor reply a word.
I already knew about his stoic, laconic manners .I had faced him before: of course, talking strictly about work. Now, it is different...We have shared...what? Madness? Pleasure? Desire?...What?
+GIBBS+
I ignore him as I continue to gaze into the fire, while ignoring the urge to cover myself up (You invited him here...for what? Sex? A chat?) a sigh escapes my chest as the thoughts and memories buzz around my head. I hold my head within my hands and try to block out the painful memories of those I have lost...of my fellow Marines...co-workers...Lovers...my Girls...Shannon and Kelly...and recently Langer.
I hide my eyes behind my hand as I feel the tell-tale feeling of traitorous tears. Suddenly I stand before heading to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of my trusted Bourbon and head back to the couch. I glance in his direction and take a swig of the burning liquid before offering him the bottle
+KORT+
I give him my silent thanks and focus my eye on the tears that I foresee in the soft moisture that bathes his face. I perceive that he would like to open up, but he doesn't...Well, I can't blame him for this: I am too much like him in this sense. I drink without taking my eye off his face, waiting for his gaze to go away, but he holds mine and then my glance goes down onto his chest, that is moving in an almost quivering breathing. (This man is swallowing his sobbing) I think, but, for some reason, I dare not let myself feel touched through this.
+GIBBS+
I force my tears to stay hidden...but at the slight softening of the jade eye, I know I haven't fully been able. I take a deep breath and once I am offered the bottle back, I state "Strip"
He starts and I watch the way his eye gazes at me in curiosity (And...fear?).
I don't expect him to do as ordered, Kort has never been one to follow the rules (Well...neither have you, Gunny) but he surprises me by standing and stripping himself down to his boxers. My eyes skim across his flesh and I realise that we are much alike...two battled scarred men and I surprise us both by snuggling against his side, to share our body heat as I gaze back into the fire
+KORT+
His eyes travel all over my chest, crossing the long line of scars that I have between my left nipple and my navel "Five bullets, two of them nine millimeters" I explain, even if I know that it isn't necessary.
He nods and approaches me.
I get entangled in his arms, feeling his titanic strength in all its intensity. What does this man want now? To strangle me? He practically throws himself over my mouth and captures my lips with his own: I understand now...he is giving me back the favour, as he did with the Siravo Case. But this time I shan't have necessity of to fake the traces of any kind of weapon...
+GIBBS+
He stiffens under my touch and I note the instinctive reaction to reach for his weapon...of which he isn't wearing. I smile into the kiss and push at his chest until he lays on his back with myself between his legs. I lazily kiss his mouth before licking along the unresponsive lips until he parts them. My tongue sneaks into his mouth and I lick along his teeth, tasting the bourbon and ash from his cigarette. I don't understand my reaction...but for some unknown reason...I am gentle with him and after a hesitant while, he returns the soft kissing
+KORT+
Yes...He is almost everything like me. My gesture to grab the gun is a conditioned reflex, it makes me live permanently on red alert. Like now. I could easily reject him and run away. But I don't do it. I spread my legs even more, placing unconsciously my low belly against his. I need the friction, as before, in the parking lot...but I feel that I need more. Much more. And for him...I bet if that I break the kiss and attack his cock and testicles with my mouth and my tongue, he could even scream like a beast...It happens to me...Why not also to him?
+GIBBS+
He is hard against me and I lean down, rubbing myself against him in order to create the delicious friction I crave. I pull away and gaze down at him, smirking at the almost black eye with the tiniest ring of jade, before I nuzzle his chest. A growled whine escapes his throat and it causes my own hips to instinctively thrust against him. I decide that I need to taste him...to see him in all his glory. I strip out of my boxers, my cock slapping my stomach in my haste, before quickly removing his.
His cock...hard and leaking...perfect. I gaze into his eye as I softly lick at the crown, swallowing the precum and loving the musky Scent. He growls and I smirk as I nuzzle the chocolate curls at the base before pulling back and swallowing him whole
+KORT+
This is what I've craved for so long! To be engulfed by one so strong as I and not by one of these little 'Twinks' with dormant eyes, poisoned by metastasis or ephedrine and slaves of their own desire to appear like snobs! He gives me the utmost pleasure. A pleasure that includes the infinite territory of anguish in all its vaporous extension. I decide to reply in an identical way. I make a one hundred and eighty degree turn and take his own magnificent cock in my mouth, so, we are entangled in the forbidden position for the ultimate pleasure: the infamous 'sixty nine'.
His cock hangs all over my mouth, caressing my face, soaking it with the precious eruption of its precum. I take my prey with my lips, savouring the taste, salty, absolutely male, almost ferocious and suck the glands, while traveling the tip with the extreme of my tongue. Then, mirroring his action and knowing the proximity of the preliminaries for my orgasm, I swallow the entire jewel and I enjoy the presence of that exquisite intruder in the deepest corners of my eager throat.
+GIBBS+
I frown at the way he pushes me away but nod with a smirk as he positions himself under my own cock. A growl escapes my throat as his surprisingly soft tongue caresses along my shaft and I lean down to return the favour. It isn't long until we move as one, thrusting and swallowing each other until we erupt as one. I swallow every last drop before pulling away and licking him clean as he copies the gesture.
Once I have finished, I turn and lower myself ontop of his strong chest before nuzzling his neck and drift off into the darkness of sleep.
+KORT+
He has fallen asleep all over my chest, maybe lulled by my breathing, that I have learnt to control as the beasts usually do. I light another cigarette and wait, looking at the ceiling and can envision the ambiance as it was in the past: I am sure it has been fulfilled by infantile laughter and chants and the rumour of kisses.
I stealthily get up, placing his head on one of the cushions and covering him with an old blanket that was hanging from the couch's back. I observe (After all, I'm a Spy!) and discover, just on the hearth, two photographs: one of them shows a younger version of him, in the Marine Corps, with two men who look like Officers. One of the men is older, the other seems younger and somewhat tender. I can write a story upon this photo...I have no doubts that that the younger man, the Officer (A Lieutenant) was in some way tied to him...love? Respect? Death? Maybe the three of them. I continue my 'perusal' and discover another picture: a smiling old man raising an enormous fish (That it seems he has just captured), standing by a pond.
This makes me recall of my GrandFather, Thomas and my Uncle, whose name I have: they were the only ones who treated me with kindness. When GrandFather Thomas died and uncle Trent went in Prison for that crime he didn't commit...I remained alone in that horrid 'menagerie', or 'abattoir', as I used to name that subcutaneous of a home I had. Mother couldn't do nothing...Tuberculosis, abuse and violence finished with her.
Putting aside my own disasters, I come across two more photograph: that very same old man in his early youth, during the War II, on board of his Mirage...and in an attached photo, laughing and posing with two Officers, one of them...a young Lieutenant in the RAF? Yes...Wait, wait, wait! Is that one...Uncle Trent!?
+GIBBS+
A shiver runs along my spine, tugging me away from the blessed peace that only sleep can bring. I slowly crack open my eye and smirk as I spot him asleep in the chair. Once I have stretched and shaken myself awake, I head closer to actually look at him.
He seems to have had a hard life (Much like my own) according to the scars and bullet wounds that dot all over his olive skin. I reach out and gently stroke along the center of his chest, marveling at the way he doesn't flinch from my touch (He trusts you? He must do, as Kort isn't known for letting people near...) I shake myself out from my humbling thoughts and go to stand, only to pause as I notice the photoframe containing the photo of my Dad during his Second World War being held within his grip. I frown and go take it away...only to still at the whimper of distress. I decide to leave it and turn to grab the blanket before gently covering the sleeping man with it. A soft smile crosses my face as I watch him curl up and softly chuckle to myself as I lay down on my sofa before also drifting off
+KORT+
I awake in a dizziness of alcohol, rancid odour of sex and sad memories. Getting up as quickly as I can from that improvised bed, I put my shirt on (Fuck you, Cobbs...You, cursed son of a bitch! You knew how to make me remember you forever...The traces still ache when it's raining!) and grab my gun, my trench coat and my cap. I recall I've left the car just in the Club's parking lot...So, I shall be compelled to walk. Just in that very same instant, I notice two more photographs, half hidden in the same place, that are now more visible thanks to the dim light of the cloudy morning entering through the curtains. One of them shows a still young woman, smiling, holding hands with a little girl (Just like Mum and Rachel used to do!). Yes, it must be his lost family. I sigh and my eye travels to another photograph...only to receive a hit of astonishment. (Why does he keep only the photograph of his Senior field Agent instead of one with all his Team and co-workers? It's rare...it's very rare!)
(Next Morning)
+GIBBS+
As I awake...I sense him gone and sigh as I open my eyes to find that I am correct. I lay there staring at the folded blanket and note that he has placed the photo back onto the side. A frown crosses my face at the flash of hurt that blossoms within my chest as I stare at where the man was...
+KORT+
There have been hours of random walking after to have left that house. That last photograph...I know that infamous Senior Field Agent Anthony DiNozzo Junior and I've always noticed his animosity towards me. Why? It is a matter of skin, as they usually say. My skin and his skin don't get along. I arrive to the hotel where I pretend to have a life (What is a life? I don't recall to have ever known it), I ask for my keys and enter the elevator, wishing only a stream of tepid water all over my body...and the blessing of an entire day of sleep.
(Navy Yard)
+GIBBS+
I sit there gazing at my computer while drinking my ever present cup of coffee and sigh as the memories of the past night flutter past my eyes. A growl escapes my throat as I feel my jeans becoming tight and turn with a glare as I hear Tonys distinctive chuckle. I stand and silently walk up to him before cuffing him across the head, inwardly smirking as the man jumps before scurrying to his desk.
I roll my eyes and go to head upstairs to MTAC, only to turn as I sense movement...and my heart stutters as I spot the British man slinking out of the shadows
+KORT+
I curse the fact these idiots have called me at the last minute. I delayed my well deserved sleep and after a rapid cup of tea (That was bad: tea must be tasted slowly, very slowly, GrandFather used to say), I dressed more 'conveniently' and came quickly to the Navy building.
Vance is a sage man, by all means. He trusts Gibbs and maybe nobody else? But I may be among the little bunch of 'half trusted' ones, since he called me personally, without intermediaries. Well, after all, it is a CIA business and the remainders of the Frankenstein Operation are still in the air (So to speak).
Gibbs looks at me, but nobody notices his Sniper's gaze. (The man is good...very good! The best one I have known and this is too much, really...I have a great deal!).
Then Vances gestures him and the former Marine climbs up the stairs, two steps at a time.
+GIBBS+
I half listen as Vance goes on and on about the Frankenstein Operation and how it is to be kept Top Secret. He rattles on about how well the Agencies worked together and such. I roll my eyes and glance in the direction of the Brit.
I notice that he too is faking interest and a smirk crosses my face. I slit my eyes in a playful gesture and decide to see if I can get a reaction as I stretch my leg out and rub my foot against his leg in a flirty gesture.
+KORT+
He is behaving childish...I like this part of him. Maybe he has it very, very hidden to everyone. But not to me.
When the annoying meeting ends, as we leave...he approaches "Later, in the coffee shop?"
I offer my best sarcastic smirk "Later is a very vague adverb...Later...when?"
"Two hours, more or less"
I smirk again and the only grimace that can't compete with mine is his. Passing by the elevator's gates, I can sense a pair of inquisitive, brightening green eyes glued to my back.
+GIBBS+
I bite my lip as I attempt to hide the fact I am excited as I haven't been in a long time...a very long time. After taking a few deep breaths, I head to my desk and ignore the inquisitive gazes of my Team as I sit down and check my e-mails. I feel Tonys annoyance and hide my smirk as I wait to see how long it'll take...it don't take long
"Boss? What did Toothpick want with you and the one-eyed teabag?"
I look up and give him my annoyed look "Have you found a break on your Cold Case?"
"No...but-"
"No 'buts' DiNozzo! If you can't be bothered...I am sure I can find you something more 'productive' to do, so you won't have time to be wondering what the important talks your 'Boss' is having with the 'Director' and the CIA Operative Trent Kort" I gaze at him "So, what is your answer?"
His eyes flash with some unknown emotion and I spot him gritting his teeth as he growls "No Boss, I'm 'fine' Boss" with that he continues reviewing his current folder.
I roll my eyes as I turn back to my own boringly important folders as I count the minutes until my meeting with Thomas
(Coffee Shop)
+KORT+
The steward got surprised when I asked for a simple black tea. I chose this cafe because they allow people to smoke inside and I can't stay too much in the daylight (Yes, idiot, you are like a vampire!). There are too many 'old acquaintances' maybe interested in to silence my mouth forever. So, I read the newspaper (These Americans don't know about football? Where is the sports' page?), distractedly, until the little bell on the main door send their merry tingling sound...but they aren't alone in their tingling.
When I can see him, with his long trench coat, navy blue, deliberately open to show the wide trousers that host the most magnificent cock I've ever seen (Not even when I worked in the shores as a casual rent boy...too many years ago..too many!) and that simple white shirt and that undershirt whose white collar fights with the softly pink shades of his skin...I feel my own balls tingling...I could cum here, with a sole touch of my hand, under the table...
+GIBBS+
I spot him in the shadows and smirk (I'm probably the only one that would notice him) as I head over while discreetly checking for the exits and for any sign of danger before sliding into the small booth. A smile crosses my face as he pushes a cup of black coffee towards me
"I ordered you it"
I nod and take a sip, letting out a soft groan as the hot liquid bathes my tongue before smirking at him "Thank-You Thomas"
He replies with a smirk of his own as his jade eye fixes my blues "You are Welcome...Leroy"
A chuckle escapes my chest but then I go quiet as I break the eye contact and gaze into the black liquid "Why...Why did you leave before I woke?"
+KORT+
"I always have lo leave" I state and I must say that I'm being sincere this time "A matter of habit, an old custom since my first days in the War College and then in the Agency"
"Aren't you in the Agency anymore?" he dares to ask and I see with extreme pleasure that he avoids sugar exactly as I do
"I've been demoted" I attempt to smile, but I only can grimace "Think about me as if I were a sort of annoying rogue..."
+GIBBS+
I nod as I silently drink my coffee while trying to over the hurt I still feel from when I found him gone. I feel his eye watching me as I drink and I sigh as I look up at him "I never found you annoying...granted, it took me a while to trust you but..." I go quiet as I try to figure out what I want to say (You want a repeat? Or do you want more? How does he feel? Did he regret our 'encounter' and would have preferred to remain in the shadows like he had done for the weeks while watching me?) I shake myself and stand before gazing at him, noticing the spark of panic within the jade eye, as I discreetly stroke his cheek "I would...I want..." I glance around and gently brush my lips against his. I look into his eye "My door is always open for you" with that I turn and leave
+KORT+
He said the words and I couldn't reply. And I am a fast replicator! But he surprised me...he literally defeated me with his trust and understanding (Understanding? Does he really 'UNDERSTAND' me? If it is so, really so, it shall be terrible!) I rub my forehead and I sincerely wish Cobbs would have finished his task. Life is becoming too nauseating...If one like Gibbs literally OPENS UP to one like me...and knowing very well who is he dealing with...If life gives this to me, almost in the end...should I take profit, or simply close myself in denial?
(Navy Yard)
+GIBBS+
I'm back at my desk, ignoring everyone and everything as I nervously think about what I had just done (You want him, you liked falling asleep on his chest? He is a killer like yourself! But yet...he trusted you, he let you see him while sleeping...) I sigh as I shake the thoughts of feeling that hard body pressing up against my own and turn back to my paperwork (Is he a bottom or a top?) An almost silent groan escapes my throat as I imagine him beneath me as I pound into his body, myself between his spread legs. I angrily headslap myself as I try to concentrate...only for a new image to pop up, of myself straddling his lap as I rock ontop of his cock, fucking myself on him as he takes my hips in his large hands as he thrusts up into my body. I slap the desk to snap myself out of my erotic thoughts, with the bonus of making everyone else jump, before standing and storming off in the direction of the mens.
I pace the floor in frustration (You like him...really like him?) I shake my head and lean against the wall (You like him but not love him...its lust, that is it! It can't be like Langer...) a sigh resounds in my chest "You're lusting after him...as you can't have the one you love" with that I leave the gents and attempt to finish my paperwork, while ignoring the questioning looks and the way a small voice within my head...calls me a liar
+KORT+
I wandered randomly for half the day, running some errands, like retrieving the money from the diamonds I reached to stole before the pandemonium exploded. Cursed Cobbs! He promised to divide the plunder with me and he wanted everything for himself. Cursed son of one thousand bitches! Taking my eye wasn't enough...I would have submitted willingly to that if it could mean more than one hundred millions to share...But he broke the deal! And kidnapped those two pieces of crap...well, the young boy really made me feel pitied. So, I helped him and I received the worst of Cobbs 'specialties' (That were the same ones I myself had taught to him). Can I call this a 'karmic retribution'? I suppose this works so, effectively...Now, I am two blocks away from Gibbs' house...Should I come out there?
+GIBBS+
After pacing the floor I decided to head to the basement and begin the strong soothing strokes of the sandpaper against the ribs of my newest boat and it isn't long before I am distracted as I rub the block until the wood is a smooth as skin. My jeans become tight as I think about my 'Guest' arriving (Will he turn up? You took him by surprise kissing him in the cafe) a smile crosses my face as I run my tongue over my lip and my eyes flutter close as my back arches in pleasure.
A growl escapes my chest as I rock my hips at every thrust of the paper over the wood and I groan at the delicious pressure of my trapped cock within my jeans, but refuse to release the pressure as my shirt begins to stick to my body and I blink away the sweat from my eyes before smirking as I feel his presence "Do you want to join in?"
+KORT+
"Of course I do, Gibbs...Otherwise I wouldn't have come" I go downstairs with a slow pace, undoing my leather jacket and my shirt "I think this view can turn you on?" I ask, mischievously...and maybe it's more an affirmation than a question?
Then, after a long pause during which I reach a position...just so I can look at him face to face, I intentionally try another question "You don't mind to do it with a man who is missing an eye?"
And he cross-examines "And you don't mind to do it with a man who is missing the other half of himself?"
+GIBBS+
I notice his mask slipping and gently tug him onto my lap as I lean against the boat. His body tenses as he sits on my hard clothed cock and I gaze into his jade eye before blinking the sweat from my own eyes. I lean forward as he peels off my soaked shirt and shiver at the cool breeze along my heated skin. A smile crosses my face as I hesitantly nuzzle his chest before taking his lips in a soft kiss as I flex my hips under him, but he surprises me by pinning my wrists above my head before passionately (And...desperately?) taking control of the kiss. I arch against him and growl as he grinds himself down onto me...keeping me prisoner against my boat and my eyes flash in delight at the move
+KORT+
Who could have imagined that the tough Leroy Jethro Gibbs liked to be subdued? Because I can read the delight in his astonishingly beautiful blue eyes (His eyes are identical to Alfred Townsend's...did you notice that, Trent?) I show my ability, without loosing my temper. I grab one of his legs and hook it around my waist. So crude, so direct, so dry. I undo my trousers and let my hard cock come out. In spite I'm leaking, I show him the most cold countenance and my features don't express anything but the urge of to submit his body. His breathing becomes anxious; I can see threads, long fringes of foam escaping from the corner of his mouth "Well, Gibbs... " I begin, controlling my breathing in a display of my extraordinary skills "This is like a fight. Fighters must proceed with loyalty" I show my teeth, to make him know I'm lying in this part, while undoing his fly and dropping his wide jeans to his ankles "Now, I go for no boundaries, nor stretching, nor any kind of lubrication! Raw and dry?"
And it is the Marine's controlled, cold voice the one that replies to me "Raw and dry"
+GIBBS+
I cry out in pain...and pleasure as I'm impaled onto that thick hard cock (Not as long or as thick as myself...but I could get used to it!). I blink away the tears as I growl and lean forward to sink my teeth into his shoulder before biting hard enough to taste blood as he viciously pounds into my body. He cries out in shock and I smirk before biting even harder as my back is slammed against the woodwork. I snarl around my mouthful as I am taken into the pleasure/pain of sex
+KORT+
He is just as I imagined when I felt his delicious shivering at the very instant I cuffed his wrists with my hands above his head. This man was craving for domination...as much as I do. People tend to see us as permanent dominant beasts (What effectively we are, of course) but they forget about our secret cravings...or do they prefer to close their eyes and to not see them? I thrust, enjoying the pain of to have been bitten so viciously and I absolutely go to bite him back. I choose his neck, his powerful but definitely silky neck, that vase of pink flesh roses, that throbbing wonder of nature. I feel myself palpitating inside his tightness.
I bite and send my profound breathing up, dragging my own semen that is impatient to cross the confinement of my balls, back to the marrow of my bones...It feels so good, it feels so ancestral, it feels so perfect! He moans and I restrain my own whines, my own desperate whines, letting the need wrapping me like a strange drunkenness. Yes, I'm drunk on his beauty. I'm drunk on his sex. I'm drunk on the trembling cock that rubs desperately (As if it had a life totally independent from its Owner) against my chest...enjoying the furred surface...I crave for to have my own curled chest hair matted in his sticky milk...
+GIBBS+
His teeth sink into my neck and I groan as I bite harder, enjoying the whimper I hear and feel from his chest that he tries to keep quiet. I flex my hips and rub my cock against his fur coated chest and snarl as I turn my head and bite him on the juncture where shoulder meets neck...I groan in delight as I hear/feel him climax within me.
A soft whimper escapes my throat as my hard cock twitches in effort to achieve its own release. I flex my hips onto his softening cock and try to rub myself against him "Please...Thomas? Please...I...I need?"
+KORT+
My orgasm was strong and it was controlled, fully controlled by my own breathing. I already feel the pleasure making me shiver, but I don't want him noticing that he has any kind of power over me. I pull out brutally and kneel before him, engulfing his cock and tasting the tons of precum it leaks, a creamy liquid whose saltiness makes my tongue shrivel up. But I don't care, because the salty flavour is another source of my personal pleasure. I lick the powerful glands, a crown worthy of a God, with a long burn hole in its tip, just in the middle...I introduce the extreme of my tongue into that ripped pinhole, tearing from him a desperate cry.
"Please...Thomas! Can't hold on any...anymore!"
I suck the soft skin, making it rub all over the body of that engorged, magnificent cock. And I am rewarded by the most precious price: a flood of delicious, juicy sperm...that satisfies my hunger, passing through my throat and leaving the bitter feeling of its aftertaste.
+GIBBS+
I lean back against the wall before slowly sliding to the floor as my legs turn to jelly and chuckle at the startled look on his face as I end up in his lap "Thanks..."
His eye slits in confusion and I watch him as he gazes at me "Thanks for what?"
I shrug as I nuzzle his chest "Thanks for coming here" I pull back and lift a hand to finger the bloody bite mark I have left on his shoulder "I should have controlled myself better...I shouldn't have broken the skin"
+KORT+
"Don't worry about my skin" I reply "These aren't the scars that hurt the most" I help him to get onto his feet and he fixes those incredible ocean blue lights into my solitary eye and asks
"And which are the the scars that hurt you the most, Trent?"
I laugh "Now you go for my first name, Jethro!" and I take off my bottle of Scotch, offering him a sip.
He refuses and goes to search for his beloved Bourbon, pouring a little glass for himself.
Then I shrug and can't avoid the loud voice meditation "Who cares about what hurts me the most?" I drink a long swig and wipe my humid mouth with my hand. The hard taste of the Whisky has mixed with the remainders of his cum.
He drinks, very slowly and faces me as if we were in one of his Interrogation rooms "I, myself...I do"
+GIBBS+
I watch as shock, hope, longing crosses his face before he hides it behind his mask once more and sigh "Trent...did you honestly think I wouldn't care?"
He shrugs and avoids my gaze as he continues drinking his Scotch.
I huff as I grab my discarded boxers and tug them on before walking over to him. My hand takes his wrist and I gaze into his jade eye as I whisper "Stay?" before taking his lips into a soft kiss
+KORT+
No, I can't allow myself to feel as I think I'm feeling now...what I'm feeling now. It would be unworthy. I have done this one hundred...no, one thousand times with many men, when working as a male prostitute...and when in the Agency, to be able to get information. Men desired my body and they were allowed to have it for a while, in exchange for money or secret Data. And when they were done...they never saw me again or they maybe saw my face like their last image before their deaths.
But this? No...this happened to me only once, when I was sixteen and inexperienced...and already used to believe in some kind of human affection. A sort of feeble belief in humanity that I buried three times: with GrandFather Thomas, with uncle Trent, with Alfred Townsend...so young, so defenseless in that obscure alley, lying down among the rats and the dirt...soaked by the rain and stained by the mud...
+GIBBS+
I watch as the emotions run across his face and decide that I have had enough.
He starts as I take his hand and tug him up the stairs before mounting the stairs to my bedroom.
I am shocked by the way he allows this and I turn to glance at his eye...and sigh at the glazed expression I spot (He is trapped in his thoughts...and they don't seem to be pleasant ones) with that I gently push him on the bed before jogging downstairs to lock up the house (Everyone would be shocked to hear that I only lock the door while I have company!).
Once everything is locked, I do a u-turn and run back upstairs...but pause in the doorway as I spot him sleeping. A chuckle escapes my chest as I strip and lay down beside him, tensing as he suddenly turns over and wraps his arms tightly around me while whispering "
I'm Sorry Alfred...I'm Sorry"
I return the embrace and softly stroke his back while watching him sleep as dawn breaks
+KORT+
I can see the clarity penetrating by the net curtains. It seems it shall be a sunny day after all these past stormy ones. I sigh. Maybe I have said something during my sleep, because he holds me very tightly, in an attitude that reveals, at the same time, concern and protectiveness.
The legendary Gibbs! The incorruptible Marine! The Gunnery Sergeant, the Sniper that never failed a shot! A clean-fingered man with a simple life who was compelled to wear a permanent mask, exactly as it happened with me. I discover something, travelling my unique eye across the room (It's surprising how all my sight has been concentrated in this lonely eye of mine! I don't miss the other anymore!).
On the the beautiful hand made (For sure!) commode (Fine mahogany with delicate watermarks representing a magic wood) I can see the portrait of a man I have seen before: a man who isn't alive anymore. Brent Langer, Special Supervisory Agent, former FBI, joined NCIS, was killed in a failed operative, suspected of espionage. Too bad. Fake information guides people to bad decisions. I knew he has worked with Gibbs while the problematic DiNozzo was afloat...but not even a skilled Spy as I am could have imagined how important he must have been for Gibbs. I deduce he was his Lover and I know I'm not wrong. I also know that I was dreaming of Alfred Townsend again, after many many years...It was because of Gibbs' eyes...Gibbs has HIS eyes...Yes, they must have been the eyes...
+GIBBS+
I awake at the feeling of the body in my arms moving and I instinctively pull him tighter against me "Kort...?"
"Go to sleep"
I chuckle as I roll up and over so I am plastered against his chest before looking up with a playful smile at the shocked look on his face (People seem to not realise that I am not always the serious silent Marine) and I lean forward to take his lips in a passionate kiss. I pin his wrists above his head and use my extra weight to pin his body against the mattress "You had your turn last night...now it is mine" with that I force his legs open and move between them, pausing as he suddenly tenses and I frown as I let him go while gently rubbing at his chest, to sooth his sudden panic "Trent...?"
+KORT+
I have been fucked senselessly many times...As I've stated, my body was given for money or in exchange of information to any man who could ask for it. I learnt how to do not allow it to ache anymore. Aching in the flesh, or aching in the Soul...but his attitude surprises me. I have just discovered something from his immediate Past and he is attempting to 'give me back the favour' "Sure" I say, recovering myself almost immediately "Sure, you can have me..."
He looks into my eye (No, please, no!) and asks "So coldly?"
"As you wish" I give back the kiss with all the passion I can't allow myself to feel, to experience. But, for some reason, I want to let myself go...to explore his mouth with my tongue and spread my legs even more, raising my hips to allow his body to take position in between my thighs. It seems he doesn't want me on my hands and knees...He wants to look at my face while doing it. While doing me. While taking possession of my last fortress. The hidden fortress of my own prostate. I know about my sensitiveness, that is concentrated in my nipples and just there, behind my balls, where the roots of the sac are placed.
So cold, yes, Scrotum, Sac, Anus. So cold and so scientific. He attaches his mouth to my nipples and I can't do anything, but moan loudly. It is like a sign of my despicable weakness!
+GIBBS+
I spot him trying to distance himself from our lovemaking and smirk as I suck and lick at his nipples, tearing out surprised aroused groans from his chest. My eyes slit in a playful gesture as my left hand trails down his furry body to caress and tug at his balls. His body arches in pleasure and I know that I have found both hotspots. I continue with the pleasuring torture until his eye flutters closed and I chuckle as I release his nipples before kissing down his body until I am level with his hard leaking cock. I gaze up to watch a darken jade eye watching my every move and I soak my right finger before trailing it down to his entrance. A smirk crosses my face as I push in my finger at the same time I swallow him down to the base, deep throating him while I stretch him open to take my big hard cock.
+KORT+
I'm not used to be stretched...but it feels so good! While this can remain at this point, without further implicitness, I don't care...but the fact is that it seems to be getting out of hand...He swallows my entire cock and I am a big one. Not as big as he is, however. I gaze to his cock and it looks monstrous. How could it feel to have Jethro Gibbs' whole penis inside me? He knows how to put me on the edge. He licks all my cock, from the base to the crown, mouth open, showing how his saliva falls down bathing the curled backstage of my engorged manhood. A manhood I should be proud of...However...sometimes I would have liked to be like normal people are: to have a Lover, to settle down, to inhabit a little house in a hill surrounded by the white fence and the trees...Vain. Everything is, has been and shall be vain. I'm cursed since I was in my Mother's womb...
+GIBBS+
I feel his muscles tense as he tries not to enjoy the sensations and I slit my eyes as I push him harder, using all my knowledge that I have learnt over the years to give him the utmost pleasure (I wonder what happened to you? Why do you feel unworthy?). I stretch him with three...no...four fingers, before getting ready and smirk as I suddenly swallow him whole while repeatedly fingering his prostate until he bathes my tongue and throat in his salty cream.
Once I have licked him clean, I kiss up his stomach, his chest, his neck...until I take his lips while pressing all the way in until I bottom out. He lets out a grunt of pain and I still to let him adjust as I enjoy the connection. My eyes look into his own confused jade one and I give him my trademark half smile before nuzzling his neck as I make slow, sweet love to the man...who I don't think has ever felt worthy, one Soul that has been used and abused until he had forgotten his own innocence...a man who has never felt truly loved...a man who I am falling for
+KORT+
Why is he being so gentle with me? His manhood is too huge and it aches...But I can endure, I want to show him I can endure this, as I've endured the torments Cobbs rehearsed in/on my body. I have given my arse more than one thousand times (I guess so), but I feel this time is different? He kissed me and in the bittersweet taste he left in my tongue I could savour myself and his mouth, at once. His saliva was full of me, his mouth was delightfully re-tasting what I always thought of as the major nausea: an useless liquor, the dirt born from my blood and the marrow of my bones...Less than nothing, less than the mud that covered the pond where I threw those five corpses after to have strangled those men to death. I'm the specialist, trained by the best. A teacher I betrayed to this man's requisition.
This man, this Warrior (He is worthy of to be called so, I'm not!), who is now panting and moaning and showing all what makes his great, absolutely and really great: his own weakness, his own humanity...
+GIBBS+
I spot the confusion within his eye and smirk as I shallowly thrust into his strong body. My orgasm starts to approach and I begin to move faster before wrapping my hand around his straining cock. I lean forward and growl "Cum...cum for me, Kort"
His body stiffens and he cries out while coating our chests in his seamen.
I growl as I thrust twice more before climaxing within him and collapsing ontop of his panting body as my cock still pulses deep inside.
+KORT+
He tore from me what he wanted. My orgasm, my surrender...my supreme pain and pleasure. I fight to catch my breath again. He lies down beside me, cleaning us with a little towel what my infamous body has brought to his senses
"That was good" he says,with his husky, not exactly melodious but still harmonious voice, after to have recovered the air that his lungs were begging for.
I nod, covering my eye and my forehead with my arm. I don't want to look at him. If I look at him, I would reveal how profoundly touched, how irremediably hurt I feel now. I could listen to a distorted name while he was pushing and pushing against my prostate. And it as a hard task I imposed to myself, not to react to that powerful, irresistible stimulation. But the word made me freeze and I kept my silence. A word with four letters, a name, a very well known name...(So, he loves him. Exactly as I had imagined when I spotted his photograph just behind the one with his lost family. He loves him in a way that makes him to put his name as the natural successor for that lost happiness...He is the name his new happiness would have...if only that ignorant man would be able to know!)
+GIBBS+
I gaze at him and inwardly sigh as he covers his face with his hand. I shake my head as I curl against his side with my head resting on his chest...I know that I am using him, as I miss the lazy mornings with Langer...waking up next to another warm body with a beating heart...He goes to move, but I stop him by instinctively wrapping my arms around him "Don't go...not yet...please?"
+KORT+
He wants me to rest. I suppose I need to agree with his petition, because I, literally, don't have anywhere else to go. The Hotel offers me a nude suite with cold walls and a frozen luxury that I'm not interested in. In the Hotel I'm an anonymous 'Guest', I loose my name, my person, remain silent, obscure and hidden (But isn't this what you want, Kort?). In my Hotel room the sun penetrates but it doesn't enlighten; the warm pretends to play jokes covering the infinite coldness of my Soul with mechanical flames. I'm a name, a presence who runs to hide himself in the false womb that offers the solitary room, where there isn't anything but whisky and smoke and shadows coming from the Past...then the light goes out and the sun begins to fall. And when it rains...ah, when it rains! The effect of solitude increases and the barrel of my gun is a powerful temptation for my gnashing teeth...
+GIBBS+
A smile crosses my face as he decides to stay and I curl up tighter around him as I share my body heat while listening to his heart. I close my eyes and sigh as I feel a peace I haven't felt since that morning...that awful day when Brent Langer was murdered and accused of being a Traitor.
A shiver of regret runs through my body and I press closer, taking comfort with the warmth of the man beside me (Could you ever believe that you would have been comfortable with one like Kort?) I sigh as I nuzzle his chest (Why not? We are both cut from the same cloth...we have both murdered in the name of our County...for revenge...for personal gain). I smile as I rub my face against his chest (Yes...we are both lonely Souls)
+KORT+
He has found in me an equal. But there are many differences: I don't pine for anybody who is still alive and breathing and walking; I don't have any kind of honour and I'm a Traitor...something that he never could be. He is pure, loyal, decent. He has the qualities I have craved for (Once: now, no more). He has loved and has been loved in exchange. He is still capable of loving again (What I'm not...Am I?). He overcame everything and is still on his feet. A hero an example, the kind of man a Parent would put as a role model for his Sons. I, myself, on the other hand...A rogue, a Spy, a bastard that came directly from misery (Not poverty, only but the misery of the Soul!), a murderer, a man without any sort of scruples, who does everything for money and to move up in the ranks of the Agency: a cold Assassin, this is what I am. I killed mercilessly men, women, even children...I had no remorse. I had no regrets. Nor repentance. I am the curse of Evil.
+GIBBS+
I enjoy his company...and I think he also enjoys the day.
We shared a quiet breakfast...or an 'elevenses' as he referred to as it? (I'll have to ask Duck about that) before I told him about the boat I'm building and we even shared an hour or so sanding, just enjoying each others company. I notice him smiling more than usual and...and I like it, it makes him seem younger...more innocent. We sit down and enjoy the steak and potatoes I cook before sharing a beer together.
+KORT+
I must admit...I had a nice day, as I have had in many many years. He does everything for me, as if he considered my friend, a friend I've known for years. Really, I've known him since...how many years go? Five? Six? It doesn't matter. He does everything in a so pure, sincere and simple way, that I can't do anything but smile. I confess that my face aches a bit when I smile: it hasn't been used to do this for years.
He reminds me a lot of Alfred: stoic, few words, smiling the just amount of time to make me feel ...'something'...no...'someone'...I sip my beer fixing my eye on him, enjoying the fresh bubbly liquid when it scratches my throat. He cooked for me, he taught me his most beloved craft: the woodcarving, the managing of those delicate, beautiful tools that seem like magic in his hands. And what a hands, Ye Gods! Hands made to be worshiped, kissed, adored...caressed and kissed and even bathed with the bittersweet humidity that only comes from tears...tears, what I can't nor couldn't give him in anyway.
Tears. is weakness. I have been taught so.
+GIBBS+
After the enjoyable day...I pause as I notice the time before turning to him "Can you stay?"
He glances at me and I notice the longing within his gaze, but sigh as he shakes his head and stands "No...I have to go"
I glance at the floor "Why? Can't you at least stay the night again?"
He shakes his head and pulls on his trench coat...but shocks me by kissing my cheek before leaving.
I stand there...watching the door where he left and sigh as I tidy up before heading to my cold bed.
I lay there, missing the warmth from another body and huff as I get up and head downstairs to lay on the couch.
I wrap myself in the blanket and refuse to let the tears fall as I am once more on my own
+KORT+
My gun.
It has a barrel.
I should avoid the temptation.
Gun plus barrel plus vodka.
It has been too much...I already have something. The little piece of ribbon Alfred gave to me (We couldn't afford jewels then!)...Its colours have almost vanished yet, I recall the brightening red, the soft blue, the stunning yellow...We played with the colours imagining stories. Mine had an old and silly Pirate travelling the world in his boat made of pasteboard, with speaking animals, singing and dancing around...I smile due to the coincidence: I've found my Captain, I guess...But he belongs to another ship. I talk to Alfred's remembrance as I always do when I get drunk and I think he smiles too and indicates to me that he is happy, he is somewhere else, a better place, where animals effectively talk and the boats are made with pasteboard and the sky is eternally blue...like his eyes...like Gibbs' eyes...I'm desperately drunk...the barrel of my gun (The temptation) is there...
+GIBBS+
I must have been asleep as the shilling of the blasted mobile shatters my pleasant dream of Tony making love to me under my boat.
I shake myself out of the erotic thoughts as I pick up the annoying thing and answer it "Gibbs!"
"Ahh...I shoulda not called"
I frown and pull back to glance at the screen (Kort?) before sitting up "Trent? You ok?"
"Ha! I could not be...never be...I is thinking-"
I roll my eyes and lean back "You're drunk, go to sleep"
"Can't...want to speak to the animals..."
A frown crosses my face (Animals...?) I shake my head and yawn "What are you on about?"
"I'm staring at my gun...do you think I shall see the lights?"
My blood runs cold "G-Gun!?" I quickly get up and chuck on some clothes before running out the door into the rain "Where are you?" he gives me the address of a Hotel and I jump into my car, praying I get there in time
+KORT+
I shouldn't have given him the address...No, Sir...I shouldn't (I am so drunk, so irretrievably d-drunk!) No, he shouldn't come here, to see how my splattered brains stain the walls, the furniture, the floor...this rug, this precious rug!
I notice the rug is blue?
Yes, it is blue!
Like his eyes, like Alfred's eyes...Alfred shall come here if I eat the gun. It shall be an instant then, I will be in the ship, with the talking animals and Alfred...and the giraffe...and the crocodile...and the birds flying around my head...I shall sing and dance and enjoy and life and love...It's a matter of fact, therefore...I...shall bite the barrel of my gun...but I don't want him to see me after...I don't want Gibbs complaining about an imaginary guilt, blaming himself again...He has nothing to blame himself for...He is in-innocent! He is p-pure! He is...(I should vomit first before I eat the gun, I should throw up what I have in my stomach)...He is...he is...He is the one I love.
+GIBBS+
My heart pounds in my chest and I struggle to breath as I run up the stairs to his room. I force the door open and pause at the sight of him on the bed with his gun under his chin "T...Thomas?"
He focuses his blurry eye on me and I watch surprise and confusion spark within "G-Gibbs? What you doing...?" He glances around the room before asking "Did...did Alfred send you?"
I frown and decided to play along "Yeah...he sent me" with that I move closer "Give me the gun...please?"
He frowns and glances down at the object "My gun? You not have! Need it...for protection"
My panic spikes as I spot his finger on the trigger and I move closer "You don't need it! I'll protect you...trust me"
He fixes his eye on me and to my relief, he nods and hands over the weapon before flopping down onto his back.
I sigh and shake my head as I slip the weapon into the back of my trousers before helping him to his feet "Come...I am taking you home"
+KORT+
But I don't have a home. I am and have been always a homeless bloke, a piece of crap wandering around. We travel in his car. He drives so fast as I do...I vomit on the carpet
"It isn't important, Trent...I just was about to clean it up and-"
I cut him dry "I have no need of your p...pity" I state "Nor your m...mercy. I have lived for more than forty years without any of them and I c-can continue...or, better...I c-can cut the thread"
"No, Trent! You have a home" he says, parking the car and immediately embracing me while guiding me to the entrance "This is your home" He faces me "What is mine shall be yours, Trent. I promise"
+GIBBS+
I leave him asleep in my bed as I clean up the vomit from my car (Forty years? But he is only forty-six...what happened from the age of six that made him feel so alone?). I get up and sigh as I finish tidying up the mess before heading inside and storing his gun with my own in the Safe.
Once I lock up the house, I slowly head upstairs to look at him and a soft smile crosses my face as he lays there curled around my pillow. I glance to the photo of Langer and nod to him as I gently strip the sleeping man out of his damp clothes before tucking him in. As I glance down...I can't resist and I move forward to gently kiss his cheek as he had done to me earlier before going to pull away, only to be stopped by a surprisingly strong grip on my wrist
"Stay? I no want to be alone..."
I nod (It's too late now...you have fallen hard for him) and strip myself to my boxers as I spoon up behind him and hold him in my arms "I will protect you Thomas...even from yourself" with that I kiss his shoulder "Now sleep"
+KORT+
He remains with me, his arms encircle my waist and this feels absolutely safe, secure and clean. And pure. I sigh and turn to my dream. Alfred is standing in front of me, holding out his hand. I wish to let me go: his blue eyes are smiling while those long brown lashes are fanning his smile, that beautiful grin he had more visible in his eyes than on his mouth. I want to follow him, to sleep, to not awake anymore...but he puts a finger on his beautiful mouth, indicating silence. I'm so old...and he looks so young! He shall be eternally young, eternally pure, in spite of what killed him...He shall be always innocent...
Gibbs is Alfred as he would have been if life hadn't been a whore, a bitch.
Gibbs is Alfred at a mature age, guiding me, surrounding me, like a hedge.
Gibbs is a pair of ocean blue eyes looking deeply into the abyss of my Soul.
+GIBBS+
I snuggle closer to the warm body and enjoying the feeling of another living person in my arms. I slowly open my eyes and glance down to spot a confused jade eye looking up at me "Hey..."
"You stopped me..."
I nod "Yes, I couldn't allow you to do it"
"...why?"
A frown crosses my face "Why? I don't understand the question, Thomas...you are my friend and I couldn't allow you to end your life as-" I shrug "-I don't have many and so I don't want to lose you" with that I tighten my strong arms around him, tugging him ontop of my chest as I strong his back "I can't have another death on my conscious...not so soon after B-Brent"
+KORT+
"Brent...Trent...there is only a letter between us" I say, kissing his forehead "But I sense his love everywhere here. The difference, however, isn't only a letter: Brent Langer was a honest man" I sigh "Gibbs, I am not..."
He closes his embrace and rolls over, pressing my body against the mattress "Open up" he says "What happened to you?"
"Open up?" I smile, scornfully "And you dare say this to me?"
"You already know about Brent Langer...and about my lost Family...my three ex-Wives..."
I sigh, pining for the truth that can't escape my mouth without hurting "You hush the most important things, Gibbs.
He smirks, his trademark grimace faking a security I know he hasn't "More important than my lost Family...?"
I fix my eye on him. I feel I must not have mercy "Your Mother's suicide, when you were only twelve years old" I pause, facing his silence. As this same silence give me license to continue, I do so "Who is, in your life, Anthony DiNozzo Junior?"
+GIBBS+
I avoid his gaze and slowly swallow "I never hid my Mothers death...it just was never brought up" I look up "As for DiNozzo?" I shrug "I have been lusting after him since he jumped me in Baltimore...but I fell in love with Brent and lived five good years with the honour of him loving me back"
His eye widens in surprise "Five years?"
I nod and smirk as I lay my head on his chest "Yeah...five years...only for him to die under my watch" my vision becomes blurry and I push away the hurtful memories before looking up "I have learnt to live with the fact Tony would never want me...now I-" (Why can't you tell him? You have fallen for him Marine! Tony is only lust and Kort is love! He needs you whereas...whereas Tony would be only ever be just sex!) I gaze onto his jade eye (No...I can't tell him yet) I clear my throat "What is your story? And who is Alfred?"
+KORT+
I am not so convinced. His explanation was too weak. But I decide to talk (After all, I know he knows how to keep a secret) "Alfred was nothing and everything. When I grew up in the dirt and my Mother might work as a beast washing other people's filthy rags to be able to put some bread on our table, I decided I should help her. I fought the cursed drunkard, but I always lost" I pause, sighing "The curse drunkard was my Father. I needed to help Mother and the poor Rachel, my Sister and the little Hiram, my Brother: he had been killed by meningitis when he was only three years old, he was now unable to speak, nor move by himself...He only was able to smile, always smiling...What could I do?
I went out, onto the streets and my first thought was to engage myself in robberies. I knew there was a Gang having their meetings every evening, in the alley, just around the block. I joined them, the Leader was a bloke more or less fifteen years old (I was ten at the time), tall, robust, with nauseating acne scars 'decorating' his reddened face. An Irish Name, Liam. He put me in charge of surveillance while they attacked the cars and trucks to steal the tyres. We even robbed a little grocery and he entertained his cruelty...beating the Owner's Son almost to death. I was scared, but I followed him. He had a boy he used to call his 'Lieutenant': thin, delicate, with piercing blue eyes and a strange ability to turn me on.
I had no idea of what that meant, but I saw him and I wanted to be alone with him, in the alley, in a room, or wherever...touching him, caressing him...kissing him...His name was Alfred Townsend and he has just been released from the Borstal. We became very close and he showed me a new magic: he used to hide a needle and a syringe and told me he was capable to steal interesting things from the pharmacy. I accompanied him and we entered the deposit of the drugstore, fulfilling our frayed pockets with many blisters of a caramel liquid. He taught me how to inject myself and I must admit I began to feel much better. We came back to the pharmacy every night...almost every night...Once, one of the Owners was already there (I never shall be able to forget him!), a fat man, with his thick squared glasses... Alfred didn't hesitate: he drew his pocket knife and hurt the man just when he was about to scream. As the man was still moving, Alfred pointed to me 'We have to finish him off!' he exclaimed..."
+GIBBS+
I pull back in horror "You killed...at aged ten!?" at his shrug, I frown before leaning once more on his chest "It must have been a hard life...in poverty and in a city?" I feel more than see his nod and sigh as I wrap him into my arms "You really loved him...?"
"Yes...he was my first"
I bite my bottom lip "How did he die?" I feel his body stiffen beneath me and I soothingly stroke and nuzzle his chest until he continues his story
+KORT+
"Alfred became a hard addict. We were together for five years. Nobody caught us, we were too good! Once, that Liam, the stupid Leader, challenge me, making scorn of my weakness and my thin body" I swallow...I need a drink, I don't know how to say this...he shall reject me! But I need to tell him and so. I continue "Then I killed him with my own hands. I strangled him, Gibbs...I was only fifteen years old" I sense his horror, I feel his frightfulness when looking at me...But he himself asked for the truth! And so I gave him it... "We lived in hiding, in that alley, the Gang wanted me as their Leader, but I didn't want them around: I only wanted Alfred.
They got dismissed and we began to mess around, wandering, robbing whatever we could to obtain money for to buy a moment of peace. On the other hand, I didn't forget my family. The little Hiram died decently, in a nice bed I purchased for him and with clean sheets, a nice blanket and a beautiful stuffed crocodile...Why a crocodile? I don't know...He was always excited when he saw the pictures of crocodiles in the books...He died so, peacefully, smiling, always smiling. He died in my arms and I paid the burial with the money I stole from a rich Butcher who also wanted to fuck me. Not a problem, I was used to pain and I could dissociate mind and body, to not be able to feel any kind of sufferance. I paid also a Doctor for the poor Rachel and when I discovered that the Rapist has been our own Father...I dragged him to the alley and I stabbed him myself. He fell down as a dirty bag full of excrements...Alfred and I celebrated the victory and he went perhaps beyond: the Police discovered a robbery we had committed in a drugstore and they followed us, finding also my Father's corpse there.
Alfred took the blame and injecting himself with his last dose of heroin, knowing he was overdosing...died alone, cold, dried...while the confusion allowed me to escape. I didn't want to do it, I didn't want to escape! I wanted to die with him! But he asked me a favour: to escape that torturous life. I ran...ran, ran...until I fell down exhausted in front of an old abandoned building, that came to be a church..."
+GIBBS+
My silence hides my horror and I frown as I think over what I have been told. Once I get over the fact of him killing at a young age...my protective side comes into play as I rear up and switch our positions, so Kort is laying across my chest. I nuzzle his neck while cradling him in my arms "You have had a hard life...but no more" He looks up at me in confusion and I reply with my trademark smile "I shall protect you, for now and always" I lean down to kiss his forehead "You shall not be used and abused never again...I promise"
+KORT+
He is the only one who didn't run away when knowing the truth. That truth I have hidden so deeply in my Soul (If it is true that I have one!). He is everything I could never be: honest, loving, loyal, sincere, clean...clean! He has the clarity of a wonderful morning by the sea, he is the beautiful dawn that caresses our lives with the promise of a new beginning. He is the dawning of hope. I snuggle into his chest, listening to the beating of his heart. A strong throbbing, a flush of warm blood, a cover for my pain, a lulling sound for my almost absent sleep...
+GIBBS+
He falls asleep against my chest and I smile as I can spot the way his shoulders slump in relief as he finishes his story (I wonder who else you have told...what was their reaction?). I tighten my hold around him and softly stroke his back as I think through all he has told me. An hour or so, he shifts about and I silently chuckle as he begins to dribble on my chest as he slips into a deeper slumber (He mustn't have been sleeping...I wonder how long since you have had a proper sleep?). I smile as I lay there and enjoy the warmth of another living body in my arms (I shall protect you Kort...protect and...and love you, just as you need) with that I kiss his head and slip into a light doze
(Next Morning)
+Kort+
Another day, but this time after a peaceful sleep. I shouldn't say this, but I feel refreshed...he is still asleep at my side and I would kiss him all along his gorgeous body! But I have things to do. I must go to Langley. I haven't finished yet with those people, this time they shall be after me again. I can't give up: I can't leave, the starving people count on that...and I want to help them. I should go to the bank again, to access the vault and take the spoils. I need to leave the Country as soon as possible: those Priests in Namibia are waiting for help. I need to see the dealer in Amsterdam first, to be able to transfer the money to the mission. Then, I could come back...if only I would be able to change name and maybe go to hide in a quiet village within the Country.
But...would Gibbs accept to join me there? He is so attached to his duty! Also, he hasn't committed any crime lately that could compel him to abandon everything to change life, name, whereabouts...
I get up, dress quickly and I decide to go to Langley first. I know they can't forgive me for to have 'delivered' Jarek. It is, for instance, who always hated me, would be charmed if he could be able to put a bullet in my forehead. And so would be Cruz. Cruz is a clown, I can dominate him easily...but...Coulter? He is too much like myself and he was Jarek's special protegé...(this only because I always refused to become his personal toy and puppet). Well, let's see...in the meanwhile, his phone is ringing, Should I reply? The little screen is flashing a name: 'DiNozzo'
+Gibbs+
I open my eyes and watch him go to leave and sigh "You don't have to go..."
He looks at me in regret before shaking his head "No...I have to go" he heads go leave but before he leaves the room, he turns to face me "But...I shall be back later?"
I smile and nod "Yes, I shall look forward to it" with that he leaves and I sigh as I decide to get changed and head to the Basement
+Kort+
Now, it shall take some time to convince those idiots that I'm leaving because I feel tired. Really, I feel tired of their presence. I drive my car and I am sure I've taken the correct decision.
How could I compel Gibbs to stay with me...if he loves somebody else? And that 'somebody else' is one who he usually sees almost 24 hours every day of the week.
No. I can't! What kind of feeling this would be if I should constrain the one I love to share his life with me, knowing he never would be able to love me as I do him?
No. I can be everything...but never a so barefaced liar...at least, when being out of office.
+Gibbs+
I spend the day washing and cleaning before heading downstairs to begin sanding the boat.
An hour later, I look up as I hear the door go and smile as I jog up the stairs "Thomas? That was quick!" with that I open the door before freezing at the sight of Tony. I shake myself out of my shock "DiNozzo? What are you doing here!?" I cock my head to one side "We aren't on call..."
Tony looks at me with flinty green eyes "Who is Thomas!?"
I bristle and growl at his tone "None of your business!" I glare at him "What do you want!?"
He softens his look "I came round last night but your door was locked...since when do you lock your door?"
I shrug and cross my arms in a defensive gesture "Tony...I locked it because I had company-"
"Male company?"
"Yes...Thomas stayed the night and he shall do again"
He growls "So! You're Gay!?" he sneers at me "Do you like to take it up the arse 'Gunny'!?"
I glare at the way his eyes blaze and gesture to the door "Get out!" as he refuses to move, I grab him by the collar and throw him out "Get out! And don't come back!" I lock the door behind him before sinking to the floor as tears blur my vision...
I was so happy this morning...and now? Now my bubble has been burst
+Kort+
The Director was pretty relaxed, he signed the sick leave with a graceful gesture of his mouth. I always suspected he wanted me...It would have been funny to ride that inordinately fat arse and see how his insect face contracts of pain and diseased pleasure...(Stop with the enjoyment of your pervert side, Trent!)
Now I must face Coulter and Cruz, my former 'Team Mates'. I enter our little office. Ray is there, watching football on his computer, eyes fixed on the screen, smoking and spitting on the floor.
"Ray" I attempt to show my best kind face "Where is Ron?"
"Hmm...Over there...Maybe in the Bathroom...?"
+Gibbs+
I sit there listening to the clock ticking by as tears role down my cheeks (Tony...he is homophobic? Since when!?) I stand and angrily pace the floor (Bastard! You have spent all these fucking years pinning after a man! A man who dislikes Gays!)
An hour passes and I growl as my temper hasn't calmed...only strengthened. I turn and run down the stairs to my boat before snapping up a sander and begin the calming motions as I force the anger into determination, sanding the rib until it is smooth as skin
+Kort+
I enter the Bathroom, where Coulter is smoking a cigarette and looking to his own reflection.
He spots me by the mirror and smiles "I heard you are about to retire?"
I don't approve nor deny the statement. I only hold his gaze in the mirror and speak "I need the folders"
"Which folders?" he turns on his heels.
I smile "Ronald, we knew each other very well" I surreptitiously grab my gun "I saw the folders in your desk" I pause "Operation Frankenstein, Ronald"
"Ah, your great find, the spawn of your mind! I can't think of anything else but beer and methedrine" He shows his teeth "Better to try heroin with vodka...ah, Kort?"
I should pull the trigger, I can do it easily from behind, even if he would be moving.
+Gibbs+
My arms hurt...and so does my back. I lean heavily against the now smooth ribs as sweat coats my body while I pant in I can breath, I slowly get to my feet and mount the stairs before stopping in the Kitchen for a coffee. A smile crosses my face as I drink the hot black liquid and once finished, I make myself another and head upstairs.
I slowly walk into the Bathroom and sigh as I place my coffee on the side before stripping out of my sweat soaked clothes. I lower myself into the bath and switch on the tap while enjoying my cup of coffee as I wait for Thomas' return.
+Kort+
I smile "Ron, you always were a disgusting presence around me"
"Same here, Kort" he sighs, heavily "Overall since you deliberately gave Jarek to the enemies"
"He was an Assassin, a Butcher..."
"Like you are, Kort: just like you all of us" I lower my voice even more, acquiring that tone that has been always capable of to scare the hell out everybody "The folders, Ron"
He replies in the same way "Your life, Kort"
He knows I want those infamous papers to destruct them: I don't want to leave any traces when I retire, this shall be disappear into the anonymity.
He pounces oat me and I know he has a knife (I can sense knives by the metallic odour of their blades...maybe it is a gift...maybe, a malediction), but my gun is quicker. I shoot to his leg...no, this time I don't want to kill unnecessarily (why? I never was so judgmental before!)...however, he cuts my hand and I can see the flower of blood growing (he knows how and where to hurt: Jarek taught us how to cut the hand veins to provoke a long, a painful bloodletting) I smile, seeing how he contracts his body overt the injured leg, even if I feel myself falling to the floor...he approaches and I, knowing that my life is escaping from my veins and I am alone, in that hated building, where almost everybody despises me...Well, I have no option: with my already blurry vision, I shoot again, this time, directly in his heart. He falls heavily before me and I can't resist anymore.
I lie down and wait for the end of my sole word escapes from my mouth, almost yet paralyzed "Gib...bs..."
+Gibbs+
I snap awake as a cold shiver runs through my spine and I frown as I note that I have fallen asleep in the bath (Great...just great!).
I slowly get out and frown as my gut screams that I am needed somewhere by someone...only I have no idea where or who. Once dried and in clean clothes, I pace the floor as my gut refuses to settle (Who needs me? The Team?). I pick up the phone and call each one...and they all answer besides one, but I know
that for once it isn't Tony in trouble. After that, I call my Dad...and end up chatting for half an hour before it suddenly comes to me! I quickly end the call and ring Thomas's mobile and nervously await his answer
+kort+
It's my destiny, my final destiny, to die upon these cold tiles, aloof of everything and everyone?
I can't scream, I can't cry for any help. I only can see how life is going out my veins, dragging the remainings of my last strength, putting the ambiance in an obscure note of grey, dark grey, almost black...
Your life always was a cursed dirty bitch, Trent, you can't be repentant, even if you would. You can't ask for any Mercy...in the supposed case that a supreme Mercy could watch over you at these very moments. You must shut your eyes and give yourself to the passage, Trent Kort, who knows if beyond everything you shall have a place to rest, finally and to forget all those forsaken remembrances?
+Gibbs+
After the third attempt of it ringing off into voicemail, I huff and jog downstairs to grab my shoes and car keys before jumping into my truck and head out to the CIA Headquarters.
I park a distance away and scope the area...only to frown as I note the lack of security (Cocky Bastards! They probably think they don't need as much security!) with that I sneak in through the fire escape and curse the fact that I am in my jeans and red Marine Corps hood as I spot people in suits (Great! Stupid gut...you shoulda thought this through before sneaking inside!)
I head deeper into the building, pausing and hiding in doorways as my Marine Sniper instincts take over...but I still as I hear movement coming from the ending of the hallway and I go to head back...only to still as I hear chatter (Shit! Think!). I quickly look around and sigh in relief as I notice the door leading to the Gents and I quickly enter, just in time as the hallway gets filled with CIA Agents.
As I lean against the door and get my breath back...a noise makes me jump and I spin around, only to slip in something wet. I gaze down and cringe at the blood but as I look for the source...my heart stutters as I spot Kort in the corner, half conscious and bleeding
+Kort+
It must be a vision. I've envisioned things...many many times...GrandFather smiling in the mist of a deserted alley, throwing me the ball and screaming "Intercept it, Trent! Head off!"...the distant odour of the just baked pudding...The orange trees...The lemon grass...Everything in the single reflection of the rain was drawing on a leaf, on a stone...all that surrounded me was moisture and wind and loneliness and the presence of an incoming danger...but I used to focus in that vision...and everything became much more easy...until the vision fall down, shattered into pieces...I don't want HIM shattered into pieces, I don't want this vision of him getting broke...I don't want to lose this last instant of joy before to leave the World...Even the voice, if distant, sounds so real as nothing else could
"Trent! Thomas! Thomas!"
+Gibbs+
I scramble forward and pull off my hood before wrapping it around the deep nasty wound on his arm "Thomas? Thomas please! Stay with me Thomas!" I tug him into my arms as I attempt to figure out a plan of action...but my brain seems to only focus on the fact I am going to lose him...I couldn't protect him...I broke my promise...
I shake myself out of the disturbing truth and tighten my grip on his arm "NO! I won't let you DIE!" with that I attempt to focus on what needs doing. After checking to make sure the other man is dead, I check to see if there is any other wound on Kort other than the deep slash on his arm...but I fail to notice the door opening until it is too late and I feel the cold metal of a gun pressed against my lower back
"Two for one...the cocky CIA Traitor...and the Silver Bastard who stole Ziva from me!"
A growl resonates through my chest and I tense ready for action...and when he moves slightly to the left, I attack
+Kort+
I can't see very well, but I smell blood...my own and another's. Cruz...how could I have forgotten Cruz? The one who supposedly might 'handle me in Tel Aviv as soon as possible',...Knowing the meaning of the phrase, he was in charge of to kill me. Only that I was faster on that occasion.
Now, he finds me off guard...I know Gibbs can kill him easily (why I didn't do it when I had that opportunity in Haffa? Ah, because you were getting old, Trent Kort! Now, no more, since you're dying)
I hear a shot...I smell the gunpowder, I see the light, maybe the last light that shall be allowed to me in this World...GIBBS! In the frantic tussle, I think he himself shot the gun, hurting Cruz just in the very moment Cruz, crossing his free arm behind Gibbs' body, fired his gun injuring him in his back.
Gibbs falls unconscious and I fear harmless...but I can already have a final retaliation scene...I depict the situation simultaneously while I move, while I sneak (I was, after all, the Cobra!) and in a supreme effort, armed by the strength that only despair and delirium are capable to give, I, myself, Trent Kort, launch my final shot, mortally wounding Ray Cruz with a sole bullet placed in between his eyes.
+Gibbs+
I grunt as I hit the floor and frown at the numbness that envelopes my body...I watch as Thomas launches himself at Ray and smirk as I watch him end the Bastards life before darkness clouds my vision.
I feel a hand pressing my back and I wince as pain flares up my spine
"Gibbs!? Stay awake Leroy!"
As my eyes travel up to spot a jade one looking at me in fear...I try to move, only to cry out as my lower back screams as if on fire and once the pain lowers...I look up in fear "I-I can't feel my legs"
+Kort+
"Gibbs...I'm screwed...I'm losing my blood, drop to drop...Gibbs...but you...you came! No, no, you...you can't die! You can't...you c-" everything turns black.
(E-End...it's the e-end!)
*NCIS*
A penetrating odour of Sulfuric acid awakes me...(Maybe everything was only a nightmare? It smells like Hospital...It IS effectively a hospital...Perhaps I got a fever, yes...a fever and everything was delirium...and-)
"Welcome back, young man!" a strangely familiar voice says near to me.
It's not only the voice, but's the accent...it's the way that man pronounces the words so clear, so- "Am I...a-are we...in the Motherland?" I ask. Perchance death was like a homecoming?
"Oh, no, unfortunately we are not, my Dear Friend!" the amiable voice continues "Perhaps you may already remember me? I'm Doctor Mallard, from NCIS' permanent staff...Of course, call me Ducky"
(The diamonds...La GRenouille...ARES...the plane...the-) I nod "I-I remember you...Doctor...I, dare to ask...if...Agent Gibbs i-is feeling well?"
+Gibbs+
I slowly awake and groan as the sterilized Scent of a Hospital penetrates my senses (Great...Hospital). A frown crosses my face as I notice I am on my front "Wha-?" movement catches my eye and my frown depends as I spot Doctor Pitt looking at me with an expression filled with sorrow
"Agent Gibbs...how are you feeling?"
I roll my eyes as I try to shift...but huff as my legs refuse to work "Like I was shot..."
He gives me a sad smile before moving closer "I just need to run some tests"
I shrug and allow him to do so as I relax but frown in confusion as the touch stops when he reaches below my waist and I turn to look over my shoulder...only to still as I see him touching my leg...but I can't feel it "I-I...?"
He sighs as he stops touching me and walks around the bed, to move to look me in the eyes "I'm Sorry Jethro...but the bullet has ended up lodged against your spinal cord" he places a hand ontop of my shoulder and I blink away the tears that form as he continues "I'm afraid you shall never walk again"
+Kort+
I patiently allow the Doctor examine me, he carefully manages my injured arm, where I can see the many stitches. I can also feel a pinch, in my other arm, where the needle that transports blood from a device to my veins.
"You had a very big loss of blood, we had to transfuse you and fortunately we had your blood type stored in our blood bank"
"So...nobody was needed to donate?"
"No, but we shall replenish what we used, I'm afraid...Do you have any acquaintances here, my friend?"
I shake my head "No, nor I ever have needed, only one I could count on is also injured"
He raises an eyebrow and look inquisitively at me with his pale blue eyes, that glow behind his glasses "Are you speaking about Agent Gibbs, my dear Friend?"
"Yes, the very same"
He sighs "I'm afraid he isn't in a good condition just at the moment...He is recovering from a bullet injury..."
I get agitated and grab his arm, anxiously looking into those gentle blue eyes "How serious?"
He pauses, swallows his own grief and replies, in a low, maybe gloomy voice "He suffered an injury just in the middle of his spinal cord..." he pauses, rubbing his forehead, with authentic concern "Perhaps he shan't be able to walk again..."
+Gibbs+
The words ring around in my head and I feel myself nodding, dismissing the Doctor, as I place my head onto my pillow (Bullet lodged against spinal cord...never walk again...wheelchair). Tears fall down my cheek as I hug my pillow as I cry myself to sleep.
I awake with a start as a hand touches my face and I slit my eyes in anger as I look into the forest green eyes of Tony
"Hey Gibbs..."
I move back, pulling away from his touch "Fuck off!"
His eyes widen in shock at my out burst and I watch as he runs a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture "I...I want to apologise for what I said when we last spoke!" he gives me a sad smile "I never meant to turn nasty...I...I was just surprised and...and jealous that you-" he sighs and crosses his arms in a defensive gesture (Copying what I had done) before stating "I've loved you Jethro...and I want to be with you"
I gaze into his green eyes and sigh as I realise I only want to see a jade one "No..."
His eyes widen in shock before slitting in anger "No!? You are turning me down!? Me!? For that...that one eyed teabag!?" he stands and glares down at me "What has that...that creep got that I don't!?"
I glare up at him and smirk "My respect"
+Kort+
"Thus, while you were speaking to your fellow operative, Ronald Coulter, he drew his gun and shot you?"
"No, this isn't what I said, Agent Fornell" I rub my forehead with my aching arm, dragging the catheter with the blood practically away.
"Hey, take care! You are still been transfused!"
I glare at him "I know very well what I do, Agent Fornell and please, sit down and let me explain how the events took place...before the sedative these Doctors gave to me shall begin to raise its effect"
"I'm all ears, Kort" he says, sitting astride the white metallic chair.
"I asked him for something that belonged to me (and I warn you that the item isn't of your concern). He refused. I insisted and pounced at me, hurting my arm with his knife"
"Were there any personal issues between you both? Like..." he waves his hands "-some kind of enmity?"
I laugh, I can't do anything else but laugh "Everybody hated me there, in Langley, if it's this what you ask for, Agent Fornell" I pause "Now, let me question you...how is Agent Gibbs doing?"
He avoids my gaze.
"The truth, Fornell" I was not the best CIA Interrogator for tone of my voice must be something so fearsome, that I have seen men like Fornell (faded, experienced, old foxes, as we say )watering their trousers...
+Gibbs+
I glare at the male Nurse who checks me over and growl as he talks on his mobile while he checks over the wound on my back and yelp as is prods and pokes me there
"You feel that?"
I growl and bare my teeth "Yes!"
He shrugs and continues to poke me there, over and over again. At the six or seventh poke, I snap and push on the side of the bed, flipping myself over and grab him by the neck "Yes! I can FUCKING feel that!"
His eyes widen in fear and he struggles against my iron grip as he tries to breath.
A voice tries to get through to me, but I ignore it as I tighten my grip and watch his lips turn blue...only to let go with a yelp as a needle is stabbed into my arm and I quickly become drowzy (Shit...stupid sedatives)
+Kort+
He harrumphs, and says, in a softened voice "He is in a good general state...but...I've heard-"
"But...what? What have you heard, Agent Fornell?" I grab his arm agitating it furiously, until the needle with the vital liquid falls out of my vein. I see he pushes the ring bell to call for a Nurse, still holding my desperate gaze
"His legs...He has been shot in the spinal chord, I've heard so...He probably shan't be able to walk again..."
"Probably! Probably?!" I raise my body as much as I can and grabs him by his neck "I can kill with one hand, Fornell, as I can shoot accurately with only an eye! How is that about 'probably'?!"
"Nurse, Nurse, over here!" he screams, turning practically purple when my grip puts even more pressure on his throat.
A tall, huge, heavy black male Nurse comes out and ties me to the bed...like an animal...as a what I am.
Rubbing his reddened neck, Fornell states(and his voice conveys not only the ache my action has caused, but an authentic sense of grief) "He shan't be able to walk again" he holds my look for an instant, then, he adds, really angry, really sad, really... "Period!" And then he rapidly leaves the room.
+Gibbs+
My head pounds and I feel sick...I go to lift my arm and panic as it refuses to move (Shit! What happened!?).
I force my eyes open and glance down to find that I have been placed on my side with my hands restrained to the bed. A growl escapes my throat as I look around before leaning forward and removing the plastic knife from the tray of food. I snap the plastic and smirk as I set to work freeing myself from my restraints.
Once free, I rub at my wrists before removing my IV lines and tug at my useless legs until I have them dangling off the bed. I reach out for the wheelchair...but yelp as I slip off the bed and onto the floor with a crash.
After making sure that the noise has gone unnoticed, I drag myself up and into the chair with a great deal of effort. Once I am settled I wheel myself out and head to find Thomas
+Kort+
I awake again, this time tied up to my bed (these blokes remind me of Cobbs in many ways!). I need to get myself out of here, the transfusion seems to have ended...finally.
I feel dizzy, but I could easily get out of here. I still have a catheter in my arm and my useless one (the right arm, ha! Fortunately, I'm ambidextrous with the gun and the blades. I won't fall down again without a fight!) is hanging heavily, aching, still aching (That son of a bitch cut in the best Jarek's style, all over the vein, in a longitudinal sense...What a paradox! I almost died of a technique I have employed so many times that I have lost count!)
I pull out the needle. A bit more effort and I am free...so...done! I really struggle to stand on my feet, but I know how to seek support: the bedposts, the bedrails...even the wall serves to this purpose. I am half naked, wearing only this awful Hospital gown...I need to cover myself...but...where are my clothes?
+Gibbs+
I avoid the Doctors and Nurses as I navigate the corridoors and sigh as I spot Tobias (Great!).
I quickly hide as he walks past and smirk as he goes by without noticing me! Once the coast is clear I continue rolling the wheelchair up to the desk.
After checking around, I quickly skim the list of patients until I find his room number and head off.
I finally make it unseen to his room and silently open the door, watching as he leans on the bedrail while cradling his right arm before wheeling myself in "Thomas?"
+Kort+
He came! I went to approach his chair, I can't stand myself, I embrace him, I kiss him, I want to devour him...Yes, yes, I am a beast! I always have been! I don't want to harm him in anyway...but I need to devour him, but I restrain my passion, my desire, my desperation, my pain...
"Easy, easy, Thomas! You're still weak!"
I don't care. I kneel, I embrace his dead legs, I caress them frantically...And, for the first time in many many years...I allow myself to cry. It feels like my Soul is being cleansed...
"Let's get out of here, Thomas...I dislike Hospitals...I-"
"Yes, yes...I shall be your legs, as you shall be my missing eye...We shall complete each other, Leroy...I swear! I swear...nobody shall injure you...us...anymore!" I stand up, painfully, but with joy at aiming our escape...the sooner the better. I grabs some clothes from a chair and put on a jacket, The arm aches like a bitch, but I don't care. We must get free! And it is just then, when we can hear a very well known annoying high pitched voice timbre asking
"Where do you think you're going, the both of you?" In front of us, angry, firing like hell by his penetrating green eyes, it stands: Anthony DiNozzo Junior.
+Gibbs+
I growl as Tony blocks our exit "Get out of our way, DiNozzo!"
He stands his ground and slits his green eyes "You aren't leaving! I won't allow it!"
I shrug and wheel my chair right up to him "I'm discharging myself and so is Thomas...I'm going to call Vance and request that I be put on Retirement, before living my life with Kort" a smile crosses my face as I look over my shoulder at him "He shall be my legs and I shall me his eye...together we shall complete one another"
Tony growls and glares down at me "NO! I love you! I want you!" with that he grabs me and takes my lips in a desperate kiss.
I grimace and refuse to open up under the onslaught as he attempts to open my mouth. My eyes slit and its the only warning I give before I pull my fist back and deck him across his face, so he ends up flat on his back looking at me in shock "No Tony...I don't want you, I love Thomas Trent Kort"
+Kort+
We need to escape this madness.
The poor idiot lies down on the floor, his nose is bleeding. A good revenge of what he did to me many years ago. Now, I must be cautious. I need to play this game until the end. I like Gibbs...I have fallen for him and I like his company, I feel protected (since when do you need any kind of external protection, you beast?)...I feel cared for.
His honesty shall be my personal shield when everything shall blow up...if it is true that a superior power has the capability of to judge us based upon what we have done on Earth...I want a shield of honour around my infamous depraved Soul...it shall help
+Gibbs+
I wheel myself out and head in the general direction of the exit, while making sure Kort is sticking close. A smile crosses my face as I spot the door and pick up speed...only to stop with a sharp turn, which causes my to fall out of the chair, as Ziva and Tim block my escape.
I grunt as I hit the floor and growl as Tim goes to help me (Stupid kid). He backs off and I huff as I drag myself over to the stupid chair, accepting Thomas's help as I get back into the blasted thing.
+Kort+
The kid asked where are we going now...He shows a real concern...The former Mossad Agent almost fulminated me with her cold glare.
"Where do you think you're going with our Boss? And where is DiNozzo?"
"That idiotic so called Senior Field Agent has received what he deserved! Please, can you let us go by moving out of our way?"
She lowers her weapon, murmuring a curse in her native tongue.
I really would have liked to break their necks, but this would have meant to lose Gibbs' already feeble confidence. I must play the plot until the end...
+Gibbs+
A huff escapes my chest as I wheel myself inbetween Thomas and Ziva before stating "I am leaving here...and NCIS-" I hold up my hand to stop the arguments and continue "I am going to call Vance and out in for Retirement" with that I roll my chair up to them "Now...please move aside"
They glance at one another before sighing and letting us through.
I nod and wheel myself out and shiver at the cold breeze that blows through the thin Hospital gown. I turn to Thomas and take his hand "Shall we head to your room? And collect your stuff before heading back to my house?"
+Kort+
No way I shall carry him to my room! We need to escape the City now, without any further delay. We shall be far away in two or three hours...Otherwise everything can go to hell...I'm tired of to see things going to hell...I'm wondering why in the cursed Earth this man didn't break my neck when he was on time?
+Gibbs+
I gasp in shock as he takes the handles to my chair and push me in the direction of the road. I frown and turn to look at him "Where are we going?"
He ignores me and picks up speed.
I slit my eyes in anger and grab the wheels, forcing him to stop and tug him to face me "Kort...where are we going!?"
+Kort+
"Out of town" I attempt to show one of my infamous half smiles.
He looks doubtful...as if he doesn't want to go away with me?
"See, Gibbs: if you don't want to go, I can leave you at your house...But I assure you that it shall be better if you depart with me"
"Why, Kort?"
I don't answer and he insists
"Why?"
+Gibbs+
I sigh as he refuses to give me an answer and I shake my head as I tug him into a hug "Are you sure that we have to leave?"
He nods but tenses as he awaits my answer.
I go quiet and think...(Can you leave? Just walk away?) a smile crosses my face and I pull back "Lets stop at my place and get some...things...and then I'll go wherever you want too" with that I kiss his startled face and smirk as he melts into the gentle kiss, I pull back with a smile "I love you, Thomas Trent Kort"
+Kort+
Poor man, so honest, so immaculate...So proud of his decency...Poor man...Maybe it is was a real mistake to have opened up about my Past to make him fall really bad for me...But it was my job and it always had been, women...men...everybody fell for me, only to realise they were being deceived. I am like Satan: I am the Father of lies...but I can't go through with it! I have to protect him!
+Gibbs+
I watch as his eyes shutter close and I frown as I go to ask him why...only for him to hail us a cab and push me inside.
I gaze out of the window as he asks the Driver to take us back to mine.
I look up as the taxi stop and once the ramp is down, I wheel myself out and head to my Garage as Kort follows behind. Once inside I pause at the sight of the stairs "Fuck..."
+Kort+
I must go upstairs now. Cursed house! I ran upstairs and grab whatever I can find: clothes, old couple of books, his photo of Langer and an album with his Family photographs. I think this shall suffice. I 'Casually' forget to grab his gun...