Disclaimer--I do NOT own NCIS.

Warning--Lovemaking. :)

Trent belonged to him now, his and his alone; Gibbs watched him sleep still curled up against his chest, he ran his fingers softly down his lover's face, grateful that he was alive. He wanted to soak up as much as him as possible, the whole fiasco making him realize just how much he loved Kort and how real the potential for tragedy was. Their jobs were dangerous, they both knew it, in fact, they'd had the job discussion before, but this whole month the seriousness and reality of it all hit home. They could really lose one another. It stole his breath away; three weeks had been hard enough, but forever? He couldn't and wouldn't do it. He looked down at Trent's relaxed face and gave a guttural growl, the man was so beautiful, the very sight of him turned him on but to feel Kort against him, his crotch pressed against his almost made him hard. He ran his other hand up Trent's side, feeling the fine body beneath his fingers, he shivered. His head filling with the things he was going to do to this man he loved. He ran his hand along Trent's chest, and stroked his back, trying to take in every square inch. He pressed a gentle kiss to Trent's head.

"That offer still stands from earlier you know. I'm ok to go. I want to Jethro. I want to feel you inside of me. I want you." Trent groaned.

He was slightly surprised but hid it behind his smirk, which grew when he realized Trent was hard. "Didn't the doctor say to not have any…..sexual relations, until you are better?" He asked smiling.

"When have you ever listened to Doctors Jethro?" Kort growled softly.

"Since it concerns you. I'm not going to harm you for my own selfish desires or yours for that matter. I will make love to you Trent just not till you are better. I don't want it to be painful." He spoke softly, looking into Kort's gorgeous blue-brown eyes, before lowering his head and capturing Kort in a riveting, passionate, lustful kiss. His hand traveled to cup the back of Kort's head as he pulled him gently into another kiss, which stole both their breath away. He could feel Trent pressing viciously against his mouth before backing off a bit and lightly biting his lip. He could feel a drop of blood oozing from the wound, he ignored it as he kissed him again his tongue tracing Kort's mouth, his mind was blank except for the god of a man below him, oh how he wanted to thrust in to him, ravage him and make Kort his. He wanted to pound him into the wall, biting and sucking, ripping and nibbling, kissing and licking. He wanted their sweat to combine, he wanted to hear Trent groaning and screaming his name. He wanted to come harder then he ever had before, he wanted to feel himself inside Kort, wanted himself sheathed and surrounded by him. He wanted Trent in every way possible. But until he was healed he would have to settle with kissing and touching.

"Jethro…please…." Trent pleaded in a gruff whisper; Gibbs could feel Kort's nails digging into his back as Trent continued to attack his body with his teeth, and tongue. He didn't know if it was the plea that finally got to him or the passionate ministrations Kort was putting on his body, but he was soon undressing both of them. The look of fierce, aching desire and need shining in Kort's eyes made even more blood rush to the head of his cock. He groaned as he looked down at the beautiful naked body below him. He put a hand on Kort's chest, firm and muscular and trailed down the smooth, velvety, hot-to-the-touch skin. Trent was beautiful, perfectly formed with just the right amount of muscle, so god dam sexy. It made him hard to resist when he was begging for sex. Gibbs was already cursing himself as he gently moved forward between Kort's legs; he kept Kort on his back so as not to put pressure on either of his lover's wounds.

He straddled Kort carefully, his hands traveling all over his body, chest, legs, back, face, ass, thighs. He wanted to remember every single detail about the man he loved. He watched Trent carefully for any signs of fear, finding none he kissed his way down his chest and sucked on both the man's nipples, eliciting a gasp from his lover. Smirking Gibbs moved to the other one, basking in the glory of making the man below him respond so excitedly. He slowly kissed his way down to the man's belly button and slipped his tongue inside and swirled it around. He heard Trent giggle, He withdrew his tongue and snorted. "I didn't know Trent Kort could giggle like a school girl." He said smiling.

"Oh Jethro that tickles!" Kort played along in a high-pitched girly voice. He laughed loudly at that before capturing Kort's lips in a fiery kiss, trying to suck out his tongue and tonsils. Kort moaned and shuttered beneath him, Gibbs lay on top of him, propped up by his elbows next to Kort's shoulders, his hands cupping Kort's head, staring down at him lovingly, smiling gently. For a few minutes both men just stopped and looked into each others eyes, until the ache was too much, and Kort spread his good leg in an invitation.

"You ready for this?" He asked gruffly, thoughts running back to the time he had tried to give Kort a massage, only to have him freak out and break down. He watched his man now for any signs of doubt, seeing none he smiled as Kort whispered, "I'm ready Jethro. I want you." His throat nearly closed around itself at the thought of what had happened to Trent only three months before, it flashed through his eyes. Staring down at the man he loved he wondered how anyone could do something so vile, so evil and disgusting, so hurtful to this precious man in his arms. To the man he loved. He loved Trent, really loved him, more than he thought he could ever love someone again. He felt like his heart would burst with his raw feelings for Kort, no one had ever made him feel so much all at once; he had never needed someone so much. Not like he needed Kort now; because Trent was apart of him, he was essential to Gibbs' survival. Breathing in the scent of his lover he knew he couldn't live without him and he wouldn't. If Kort ever died, truly died, he wouldn't hesitate to the pull the trigger. He didn't want to go on without this man.

And God help anyone who even thought about considering hurting Trent in anyway. He would rip them limb from limp slowly and painfully, he'd castrate them and then slowly disembowel them and rip out their heart. He would never let anyone hurt Trent again, even if he had to personally accompany Kort on his missions and act as his bodyguard. He would without a doubt take a bullet for Trent, he would take anything meant to harm the man and take it upon himself instead. His lover had been hurt enough; he would not have him hurt anymore. Kort was his and his alone. No one hurt what was his. No one took what was his. No one even dared to think about messing with what was his. And he'd make sure that everyone in the world knew Kort was his by morning. His eyes darkened in lust as he poured a generous amount of lube into his hand, he slicked his shaft up before gently inserting one slick digit into Kort's pucker. He was delighted when he felt Kort tighten around his finger; he inserted two more until Trent was stretched far enough for it not to hurt. He lined himself up with Trent's entrance, looking into Kort's eyes he growled when Kort said, "Fuck me Gibbs."

He grasped Kort's hips gently on both sides before smoothly, slowly, and gently sliding into him. Once he was fully sheathed he stopped, giving Kort time to adjust to being full and himself time to relish in the feeling of Kort surrounding him. It was pure ecstasy, his mind was shattering in the feeling of the burning hot tightness around him, he let a low moan escape from his throat, he squeezed Kort's waist tightly, unable to wrap his mind around the fact that he was inside Trent, inside the man he loved, attached, becoming one. It nearly drove him to the edge when he opened his eyes and saw himself in Kort and saw the same intense look of mind-blowing euphoria reflected in his lover's eyes he nearly lost it.

"Gibbs…..move….please…." Kort moaned pushing himself down, trying to feel the friction he knew it would cause. This snapped him into action, he carefully slid halfway out and gently slid back in; he wanted to take Kort roughly, wanted to pound him into the wall, but he wouldn't. At least not this time; not only because of his injuries, but also the fact that he didn't want Kort's first time to be painful. Those men had taken Kort dry and unprepared, they had ripped Kort and tore him up inside. They had liked it rough as well and they had brought it full force onto Kort. Gibbs wouldn't do that. He'd make love to Trent sweetly and full of the passion and love he had for Trent. He continued his gentle thrusts, speeding up a bit at the ending, nearly slamming into him. He panted as he felt his muscles constrict, his whole body cramping up as he exploded inside of Trent, only fifteen minutes into lovemaking he had lost it. Trent panting and growling his name, meeting each of Gibbs' thrust with enthusiasm before tightening up and coming seconds before Gibbs had. Gibbs lay on top of Trent panting, crashing from the highest high he had ever experienced in his life. He slid off Trent and lay next to him smiling, Kort's face was turned away from him but he saw the man's chest heaving, he put his hand in the middle of Trent's chest and kissed his shoulder.

Kort's face slowly turned to his, what he saw there had him choking on air, his lungs seemed to constrict and his heart froze. Tears were coursing down Trent's face. He slowly put a shaking hand against Kort's cheek, resting it there softly. "Trent? Did I….Did you want to stop? Did I--Did I…" He couldn't go on; he couldn't bring himself to say it. He had thought Kort wanted this, he hadn't detected any signs of Kort trying to force himself to do it; he had seemed genuine. But was that just because he, Gibbs, wanted to fuck him, so he saw what he wanted to see? Had Kort cried out to him in the middle of his lovemaking and asked him to stop? Had he ignored him? Had he hurt him? Had he raped him? He felt the first tendrils of fear slithering In his chest, latching onto anything they could get a hold of, he burned with shame at the thought of hurting this man, he wanted to hit something, preferably himself as he felt the tears flow over his hand.

"No. Jethro. Thank you. I love you." with that Trent really did let it all go, all the hurt and pain he had kept bottled up inside he let loose, quietly sobbing into his, Gibbs', shoulder as he held him and soothed him, murmuring reassurances of his never ending love for Trent. He felt his heart nearly break, as Trent shook in his arms, he felt his warm, salty tears flow down his shoulder and neck. He tightened his arms, trying to protect Kort and take away his pain, how he wished it had been him. How he wished he could take Trent's pain away even if it meant putting it on himself. "Oh Trent, I love you. Shhh." He soothed, stroking the back of Kort's head as he nuzzled his face against his and kissed him on the side of the head.

"I'm sorry." Trent said between irrepressible sobs. "It's not you, it's just….I don't know. It was amazing and everything….everything it should have been. Just…they didn't…I'm just…"

"You're just coming to terms with what they did. I know Trent, I know. It's alright, sweet cheeks." Gibbs said warmly.

"Sweet cheeks?" Kort hiccupped skeptically.

"Honey buns?" He questioned. He felt Kort smiling despite the tears.

"Hmm….cupcake." Kort teased as he poked his belly.

"Babykins." Gibbs said in a mock-sweet tone.

"Muffin-to--OW!" Kort exclaimed as he pinched his ass, and then smiled, gently nipping his ear affectionately. Kort laid his head on his chest, his ear right over his heart, listening to the extraordinary sound of life beneath him. With Gibbs' steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest rocking him to sleep he was soon out, wrapped safely and securely in his lover's gentle, loving and protective embrace. Trent had never felt so loved in all his life, or more wanted; it choked him up a great deal to know he had a safe haven. To feel that implicit trust and security, knowing Gibbs would always have his six and would never betray him. It wasn't hard falling asleep with the man you loved. Gibbs wrapped on arm around his lover's back and shoulders and the other one rested on Kort's cheek, his fingers cradling the back of Trent's head. Gazing down at the handsome man next to him he soon nodded off as well.

………………………..

The next morning he woke up knowing exactly where his first stop was going to be; he looked down at Trent who was in the same position he fell asleep--secure in his arms. Just where Gibbs liked him. He listened to Trent sleeping; the man didn't snore to his surprise but instead breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. He loved mornings like this when he could just wake up and feel Kort's chest rising against him and think about how lucky he was to have Trent. Placing a kiss softly to Trent's forehead he carefully made his way across the room and downstairs after dressing; he would have rather just lay in bed all day with Trent but he had people to talk to and Directors to see. He grabbed a cup of coffee before heading out, leaving a note for Trent next to the bedside table with painkillers and a glass of water. As he left the bedroom he turned around and watched Trent curl into himself, nearly into the fetal position, his heart constricted as his heartstrings were pulled. Whispering "I love you." one last time, he left.

An hour later found him stalking down the CIA's hallway towards Director Roper's office, fury lined his face as he remembered who was responsible for all his heartache and Trent's injuries, actually Roper was to blame for everything he and Kort went through since they were together. He held Roper responsible for not only his grief, but also for Kort's bullets wounds and his rape and now that he didn't have to play nice with Roper for his job he was going to give him a piece of his mind. He kicked open the door angrily and stormed in, shooting a death glare at Roper, one of his employees scurried out as Gibbs drew himself up to his full height, a menacing scowl on his face. Normally people cowered when he entered a room like that, anyone with a good sense of self-preservation ran for the hills, as far away as they could get. However Roper just looked up at him and said, "That will be seventy dollars for repairs Agent Gibbs."

He didn't respond, instead he stood there taking in the man who thought he had the right to harm his lover. Roper had white hair and wore a military uniform, Gibbs glared at him, taking in his appearance wondering what gave this man the right to hurt, and kill others. This man was responsible for Trent's tears, and fears. For the nights he spent staring at the ceiling lifelessly, catatonically. For the puking and the scalding, burning hot showers and the recklessness that made Trent endanger his life needlessly. Roper was the one that caused Trent to spend his nights shaking, and trying to repress all emotions. It was his fault Trent hated himself and found himself not worthy of anything. Roper was just as responsible as the men that actually carried out the rape; the Director might as well have tied Kort down and took him himself. Gibbs saw red as he stepped closer to the man, wanting nothing more than to put his head through the wall and break him in half and rip his innards out. He felt his blood boil, knowing Trent would have to report back to this man for years to come, knowing there was always a chance of Trent being tortured, raped and killed, all because of Roper. As long as this man was Director Trent wouldn't be safe. He would not allow anyone to threaten Trent's safety around him.

"Roper." He growled angrily.

"Gibbs." Roper said coldly.

"I hear you got a mole problem." He hissed.

"That's classified." Roper said shrugging.

"You have a mole that's targeting one of your agents specifically." He continued on ignoring the twitching of his right hand just itching to get around Roper's throat.

"And how do you know that?" Roper said coolly.

"Both times information has been compromised it involves Trent. He always gets hurt." He replied.

"Are you trying to tell me someone within my Agency is trying to kill Mr. Kort?" Roper asked lightly.

"Obviously. So what are you going to do about it?"

"We're doing everything we can to find the mole." Roper replied tilting his head forward.

"I suggest pulling Trent from missions until this leak is found."

"Are you telling me what to do Agent Gibbs?" Roper asked his eyes narrowing.

"If you send him on a mission you endanger his life and the Agencies credibility and information."

"I didn't know you cared about the Agency."

"I don't. I do care about Trent. I won't have him threatened or put needlessly in danger." Gibbs said looking pointedly into Roper's icy blue eyes.

"Kort can draw out the mole."

"And if he gets killed in the crossfire?! Are you willing to risk your best agent's life to find a mole?" Gibbs said glaring at the man and sitting up straighter.

"I appreciate your concern Gibbs and I'm sure Mr. Kort does as well, however there is a bigger picture here. If the mole isn't found information can leak into the wrong hands, terrorists, arms dealers, foreign intelligence agencies. I'm sure you can imagine what would happen then. This mole not only jeopardizes Mr. Kort's life but also the well-being of the Agency and of this country. I have no qualms about sacrificing one person for the good of America. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one." Roper said callously.

"You have not listened to a word I have said." Gibbs growled irritation flaring up. "Someone is after Trent specifically. They're not giving away information about the agency, or anything else, they're giving Trent away. They're trying to kill Kort, not spill the Agencies secrets!"

"If they were trying to just kill Kort, you'd think they'd take a more direct approach." Roper said smoothly.

"Not if they want it to look like an accident, a mission gone wrong. Your Agents all know how to frame-up murder to look like something else." Gibbs said.

"If the mole is giving information away on Kort, telling the bad guys that he's CIA we lose that connection, it all goes to hell. We lose everything we have. The mole is the bigger problem here not Trent's safety, the man can take care of himself Gibbs, he's not a child." Roper said.

"Exactly. If they're targeting Kort than if you pull him from missions they won't interfere in them anymore. The only way to keep your Ops intact would be to pull Trent."

Roper seemed to think this over. "And if it's not just Trent?"

"Then we'll know."

"I still think Trent could lure them out, put him on a fake mission." Roper said.

"And when the mole tries to make contact with the bad guys?" Gibbs spoke calmly.

"I was thinking we could have NSA work with us as the bad guys, they don't come up in our data bank, not for facial or fingerprint recognition. The whole thing would be a sting." Roper said.

"And Trent would be in no danger." He followed Roper's thoughts.

"Exactly."

"But for this to work wouldn't you need a suspect first?"

"We got it narrowed down to one department, there's only a few of them, but they have connections all the way up to the president. We have the whole agency wire tapped, we record every out going and in coming call, all mail is read before leaving, everybody is scanned and an FBI agent follows each one of my Agents home. After this is over they'll have to move." Roper muttered the last part.

"Langley is working with the FBI. That's something new." He raised his eyebrow. Everybody knew Langley hated the FBI with a passion and would rather blow the FBI building up then ask them for help.

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Who do you owe?" He spoke knowingly.

"Fornell." Roper replied with a hint of annoyance.

Cracking a smile he said, "Oh man, he's probably loving this."

"Indeed. I'll contact the NSA see what they can do. I'll call Kort later." Roper said, pulling out more paperwork.

"Good." He rose from his seat but instead of heading towards the door he went towards Roper, grabbing the man by the collar of his suit he pulled him up and over, nearly nose to nose he whispered, "If you ever knowingly put Trent in danger like that again I'll be back. And neither of us will be happy about it. And god help you if anything ever happens to Kort because of you. I will make you pay. You got that?" He spat angrily, shaking him in time with his words.

"I suppose this would be a bad time to ask if there is anything going on between you and Mr. Kort?" Roper said with an eyebrow raised, ignoring the fact that Gibbs was threatening him and nearly choking him.

He shoved Roper back in his seat, watching as the man adjusted himself. "And if there is?"

"Well that could cause a problem. It could hurt relations between the CIA and NCIS. Not to mention the liability that Kort may say too much to you. Or that it may be suspicious that Kort is dating a federal officer when he's pretending to be someone else." Roper said folding his hands together on top of his desk.

"Get to the point Roper." Gibbs said flatly.

"While I can't tell my people who to date, I can strongly advise against it." the Director said.

He laughed, "You give Kort your suggestions. I'm not worried."

"I'm sure. But there are many things that can hinder or even break up a relationship. Wouldn't you agree Agent Gibbs?"

"I would. But there are also numerous things that could cripple the agency as well."

"Indeed." Roper looked him over appraisingly before smirking, "I trust you know the way out?"

"I memorized it." He answered.

"Good."

With that he left, knowing he had to talk to his own Director about getting his job back and that was going to be a headache in itself.

WITH TRENTYPOO.

Turning over he expected to knock into Gibbs clumsily, waking both of them up instantly, only to find cold bed sheets and a crumpled blanket. He sat up and looked around the room, grimacing in pain as his shoulder flared up and his leg ached he saw the pain meds and the water, he grabbed them and the note that was left by their side that said his lover had gone to see about getting his job back. He felt a twinge of guilt before he brushed it aside as he recalled the night before; it had easily been one of the best nights in his life, he would remember it for as long as he lived. He had been a little nervous when they had started; no one had touched him in a while since Deston. He had shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind and just laid back and let Gibbs have his way with him, thoroughly enjoying the fucking he was getting. Gibbs had been so good, he had thought it would hurt but his love had been gentle; for that he would never be able to thank him enough.

He got out of bed and got dressed quickly; going down the stairs he started grabbing his keys and cell, only to be stopped by the basement door when a foul odor drifted up from under the door crack. Reaching behind his back he pulled out his .9 mm before slowly opening the door and descending the stairs, flickering the lights on he stopped short in surprise, the boat was gone, instead there was a newly built work table with a vice, blood stained the top of it and dripped down it's side creating a pool around the base of it. But it was old blood, some dry and faded, some sticky and giving off a rotten smell. It looked like someone had dumped red paint all over the place, what the hell happened? He stepped over the sticky parts of the blood and traveled closer checking out the handcuffs that were around the legs of the table and the other cuff waiting to be attached to a wrist or ankle. Like someone was using this room to dissect someone.

He crinkled his nose; the smell overwhelming. Suddenly a thought occurred to him: Jethro. He raised his gun and searched the basement; he jolted up the stairs as fast he could, taking them three at a time. He opened all the cupboards and over turned any furniture you could use to hide a body. Had Gibbs been ambushed on his way out the door? Had they gagged him and tortured him while he lay peacefully sleeping upstairs? Was he alive? Who had him? He looked out the door, no signs of a struggle and Gibbs wasn't one to go down without fighting, his car was gone too, but that meant nothing, the kidnappers, or killers (He shuddered at the thoughts, leaving his insides icy) could have taken it afterwards. There were no skid marks on the driveway or any obvious signs of someone dragging a body. In fact everything was spotless except for the basement.

Whipping out his cell he speed dialed three.

"Gibbs."

"Jethro, where are you?" He asked keeping the concern and worry out of his voice.

"At NCIS headquarters. Didn't you get my note?"

"I must not have seen it. Ahhmmph." He hissed suddenly, the pain flaring up in his leg and shoulder at being jostled so. Apparently running up a flight of stairs and lifting heavy furniture was not good physical therapy for his wounds.

"Kort you ok?"

"Yeah. I fell out of bed, landed on my injuries, they're sore but the stitches are fine. No blood." He answered gasping as he lowered himself carefully onto the couch.

"How about dinner at the Italian place down on main tonight around six?"

"Sounds good to me." He said smiling slightly. He sighed almost inaudibly remembering the insane fear and panic that had had such a firm grip on him only minutes before. "I…..I…love you."

"Yeah. I know." Gibbs spoke softly, hearing the click he hung up his own cell and set about cleaning the basement. Saving his questions for dinner.