Summary: A continuation of The Same Demons (which I included as the first part of this story). Tony has come to Gibbs for years, for support and comfort. Gibbs has never asked for more, even though he wants more. Completely from Gibbs point of view

Feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

This is my own mess, I have not had it beta read.

The soft knocking had turned to a demanding rapping. I almost hate that I installed that lock. As my eyes focused in the dark I make out the digital clock on the night stand. It flashed 2:30 am. I sighed and dragged myself from the bed through the hallway and down the steps to the front door. Without even looking out the doors small window I pulled it open. I already knew who would be there. He was the only one who would dare show up at this hour. His hazel eyes, laced with caffeine induced energy met my blue sleep deprived.

I wanted to tell him to go, to leave me the fuck alone and let me return to the dreamless sleep I had been trying to enjoy. The thought lasted only a second. Instead of speaking my outstretched hand found his and in one seamless motion I pulled him inside and into my arms. Not willing to let him go I kicked the door shut against the brisk night air. He sank heavily against me, his arms and face buried against my chest as his slightly spiked hair brushed against my neck. I felt the tears before I heard them. The warm water seeping through my t-shirt and onto my neck and chest minutes before his whispered sobs reached my ears. I held him as I always did. My hand gently stroking up and down his back believing without knowing that the action somehow helped. We stood there for minutes, hours I wasn't sure and I didn't care. It wasn't until his tears subsided and I felt his body stop shaking that I moved.

Mechanically I lead him up the stairs, never letting his hand leave mine until we reached the bedroom. When my hand left his he slumped on the side of the bed. His fingers clenched the bedspread. Was it for physical or emotional support? I wasn't sure. His eyes were down cast and I leaned over and removed his boots then his socks. As I stood up I broke all contact between us. I saw him shiver and clasp the bedspread tighter as if in pain. I wondered if he had the same pain I felt every time he left my embrace.

I made my way towards the dresser. As soon as my back was turned I heard the familiar sound of the zipper on his jeans as he pulled them off and tossed them aside. I didn't react with hope anymore, not like the first time. I took a t-shirt from the drawer, turned and laid it in his out stretched hand. I made my way to the other side of the bed. He pulled off his sweater and they joined the jeans on the floor. I looked on silently, watching the way the muscles of his shoulders and back contorted and contracted as he pulled the shirt over his head. He slid under the covers drawing them up tightly against himself. Hesitatingly I slipped into bed next to him never allowing myself to touch him. When he wanted me to touch him I would know. Laying there on my back arms above my head I waited. For several minutes he tossed and turned trying to find some sense of comfort. Until finally he crawled next to me his head resting gently on my chest, his arm draped across my waist. Following his lead I let my hand caress down his back tenderly pulling his body closer to mine. He melted into me as if he were made to fit into my arms. I felt his breath against my chest at first labored and hurried then slow and even. After a few moments his arm went limp and I felt the weight of him grow heavy against me as sleep overtook him.

I let out a deep breath I didn't realize I had been holding and my lungs gratefully took in a slow deep breath my chest rising against his. He stirred next to me somehow feeling the movement in his sleepy senses. His arm tighten around me momentarily as if afraid I would try to leave. I instinctively pulled him tighter to me telling him I was here that I would not leave. His arm relaxed and he sighed. Even in sleep he commanded me and I obeyed.

I closed my eyes and silently cursed myself. I cursed myself for letting him in again, for holding him so tightly and most of all for wanting him here. This was our ritual, some macabre rite that I allowed to happen whenever he needed me. As much as I hated him for needing me like this, I hated myself more. I could turn him away, I could say no, I could make it stop with one word. But then what? Turning him away would be like ripping out a piece of my heart, a piece of my soul. I was as selfish as him. I wanted him to need me in this way. Because if he needed me, even like this, I knew my place in his life. I was his protector, his comforter, the one who kept the demons away. So here I lay holding him, fighting off the demons that haunt him. I would fight them to the death to protect him, but their struggle for him is half hearted because they know it is easier to torment me. He and I share the same demons just for different reasons. For him they are of pain, emptiness, and love lost. For me they are of regret, betrayal and unspoken emotion. My personal defenses are abandoned to protect him and they delight in my misery. Loving him is my fault even if it is uncontrollable, but for our demons it gives them a control over me that is unfathomable. No soul is easier to torment that that of someone desperately in love.

Tonight as every night he is with me, I fight, for as long as I can. I have been waging this war for almost 7 years it is nothing new to me. Over the years the battles have changed, just as our relationship has changed, but the outcome is always the same. The demons cry out in victory and I give them what they want. The emotions are raw, the memories vivid and the reality heart breaking. Only when I am completely broken and battered do they tire and retreat leaving me alone with my prize.

He is still asleep unaware of the struggle that I undertook to be here with him. I am thankful for his silent oblivion. It's easier this way. Me fighting the battles him safe in my arms. I will fall asleep soon and the dreams will come as they always do after the battle. They are always pleasurable, always of him, and always incomplete.

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Several Years Later

The wood is brittle and cold tonight because of the cool temperature outside. But I don't care, I've grown use to it over the years. Jeans and a sweatshirt keep off most of the chill, my hands are the only piece of me that feel the cold. I hear the door open upstairs, hear the footsteps across the floor above me, then look up and see the man at the top of the steps. His presence is not that unusual, although it has been about a month since his last appearance.

He descends down the steps stopping towards the bottom and sitting down. Looking over at me, the unspoken language we, have developed over ten years tells me he wants a drink. Taking the few steps to the tool bench I empty a container and pour him a drink, refilling my mug that is sitting there as well. When I hand him the drink he takes it tossing it back in one gulp. I don't show my concern simply walk back grab the bottle and return to refill his cup. This time he takes a small sip then swirls the rest of the amber liquid in the cup. I sit the bottle down next to him and walk back over and start working on the boat again. If he wants to talk he will, until then I'll work.

Minutes maybe hours tick by, I'm not sure and I don't care. This is our way sometimes. Sometimes it's endless idle conversation, sometimes silence, we are comfortable in both. Finally, I hear the creaking of the step and prepare to hear his goodbye and thank you as he ascends the steps to leave. They never come instead I feel his presence behind me. Then he slips under my arm and leans back against the hull in front of me. This is new.

His hand reaches out and caresses my cheek. I don't move, don't say a word, I'm not sure what to do.

Then his hand drifts from my cheek and down my chest. Even through the heavy sweatshirt I can feel the warm touch of his hand. As much as I want to give into the contact, accept it, I'm puzzled and I grab his wrist. His hand is still on my chest, but I have stopped the movement. He looks at me an odd expression of confusion and something else that I don't recognize.

His other hand moves, traveling around my waist to my back and pulls be forward. I stop it just before our bodies touch.

"Please." Tony's voice is pleading.

Again, I'm not sure how to accept this. What has changed? Why after all these years?

"I know you want me." Tony whispered.

Of course he knows. He's always known. My words, my actions, everything I do gives it away, at least to him. Yet still it's been months since he came here seeking comfort from me.

"Jethro." Tony sighed. "I want you."

He uses my first name because he knows it effects me. The way he says it, how he accents the first and last syllable. For years I've wanted him to follow my name with the words I want you. But in this situation I don't know what it means. Does he want sex, a one night stand, just to toy with me, I don't know. And that's why I can't give in, even though every fiber of my being wants to. I can't just have him for one night, I need more, so much more. I can't have him, still be his friend and hear about the one's that will come after me. Men or women. I know about the men, there have been a few, he's told me.

Those sparkling blue eyes stare at me, reading me, he's the one person that can.

"If I just wanted sex I wouldn't come to you."

The answer to my unasked question causes my brow to furrow.

"I know you could never just have sex with me." Tony wets his lips. "You want more."

I nod still not completely sure what he wants.

"I want more."

I release his wrist and his hand doesn't move.

"You have been everything to me, friend, mentor, protector." Tony sighed. "Now I want you to be my lover. The only one."

That's what I needed to hear, wanted to hear, and it causes the desire inside me to burst forth.

I grab his arms and push them over his head holding them there as I bring myself forward pressing our bodies together. Tony moans and arches his body against mine wanting and needing more. Taking both his wrists in one hand, I let the other caress down Tony's chest sliding between our bodies until I reach his already hard cock and squeeze. His eyes close and his head falls back as my hand rubs and squeezes him through his jeans.

"Yes." Tony groans. "God yes."

Just touching him makes me want to come and I fight back the overwhelming urge within me letting go of his cock.

"Please let me go." Tony pants. "I need to touch you."

It's a request I gladly grant and as soon as I release him, his hands grab my ass and jerk me forward hard. He grinds my cock against his own and I can't help but moan. My hand grabs the back of his neck as I crush our lips together. God his lips are so soft, so sweet, so malleable that it seems his lips were made only for mine. My tongue meets no resistance as it crosses his lips and tastes his mouth. No one should taste this delicious, a strange mix of his natural honey like sweetness and mint. I can't help myself, I devour him with my mouth and my hands. My fingers claw at his back wanting to crawl inside him. His hand raking over my cock forces my lips from his as I try to catch my breath. From the kiss or his touch I'm not sure.

I unbutton and unzip his jeans then my hand slips in and strokes his cock.

Tony opens his mouth to cry out but the words catch in his throat. His hands clutch at my hips as he thrust into my hand. He is close, I can tell. The way his cock twitches and tightens in my hand and his thrusts becoming shorter and quicker.

"Not like this." He manages to choke out.

The words cause me to stop still holding his cock in my hand.

He is suddenly desperately trying to free me from my jeans.

"I want you inside me when I come." He says trying to push my jeans down my hips.

Pulling my hand from his cock, I spin him around, crushing him against the hull of the boat. I leave him there for a moment, retrieving what I need from the tool bench, then returning. I tug his jeans down marveling at his bare ass before me. Then push my own pants down enough to pull out my hard cock. Squeezing some lube into my hand I moan as I rub it onto my cock. My fingers still coated, I push one between Tony's cheeks and into his tight opening. His body shivers as he moans. I add another finger and he finally speaks.

"Please Jethro." Tony pants out. "I want your cock."

I growl as the animal inside claws forward and I remove my fingers wanting to give Tony exactly what he wants. Grabbing my cock I position it against him then slowly gently press the head in. Tony moans again tightening his muscles around my cock and drawing my cock in. My hands clamp onto his hips, struggling to hold back the need to come. My whole body trembles as I fight to hold on. Sensing this Tony relaxes and I take a deep breath steadying myself before I continue.

"Please." Tony begs.

That's all it takes, I lunge into him, lost in everything that is Tony. He whimpers and moans, begging me for more and I give it to him. It feels so good, so right, and I never want it to end. I jerk his hips back, pulling his lower body away from the boat so I can wrap my hand around his cock.

"Oh god." Tony sighs his body already screaming for release.

I can't decide what I love more, my hand around Tony's cock or my own cock inside him. Both bring their own pleasures in different ways.

"Jethro" The name tore from his throat as the orgasm ripped through him.

I feel his whole body convulse as I continued taking him. I'm so close but I refuse to let it end. Tony recovers quicker than I expected and he's thrusting back against me, meeting every forward movement I make and driving my cock deeper inside him. I feel it build and before I can protest it has already taken hold of me.

"Tony." I cry out his name as I come violently and uncontrollable. The intensity of it causing my body to collapse against his. At some point I recover enough to pull myself from him and roll off his body against the boat hull. I somehow manage to put myself away and pull up my jeans.

Collecting himself, Tony stands before me. His hand coming to my face.

"Take me to bed."

He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. It still feels like a dream to me even when we reach the bedroom and Tony slips off his clothes and climbs into bed. He looks up at me smiling. I follow his lead removing my clothes and climbing in next to him. He curls up against me his head on my chest, his fingers dancing across my stomach.

"Say something." Tony sighs. "Anything."

"I love you."

His head comes up off my chest and he stares at me. He is not surprised by my words only shocked that I admit it so freely.

"You hardly speak all night and then you say that." Tony chuckled. "You never cease to amaze me."

I push him back down onto the bed staring down at him the hunger evident in my eyes.

His hands caress up my ribcage. "I love you too."

"I know."

Tony smirks then surprises me by forcing me down onto my back and straddling my leg, his knee brushing against my cock. His hands grabbing my wrist and holding them down against the bed.

"Tell me what you want?" He asks.

"You."

"You have me." Tony answers as his hand rakes over my cock. "Completely."

I moan. I realize again how much I want him, need him and love him. It's wonderful and frightening at the same time.

"That's a start." I smirk.

He grins before capturing my lips. It starts our love making all over again continuing until we collapse in each other's arms. Even in the shower I take Tony again, still not satisfied. Back in the bed, Tony spoons back against me and I take him in my arms dropping a kiss on his neck.

"This is where I belong." Tony breathes a contented sigh.

"Yes it is."

Within seconds he is asleep pressed tightly against my body, his hand atop mine. I feel sleep tug at me, begging me to surrender. I give in knowing that after all these years sleep will come quickly and without any demons.