“Friendship... is not something you learn in school. But if you haven't learned the meaning of friendship, you really haven't learned anything.” Muhammed Ali
~*~*~*~
I never knew what friendship meant.
There was something one of the boys I hang out with in High school told me. Something about relying on someone you spend time with. ‘A friend is someone you trust. Someone you have fun with. Like me.’ That was what he said.
The problem was, I didn’t trust this boy. He was not bad, I could make jokes with him and I saw him almost everyday when we had basketball training, so I did spent time with him a lot. And sure as hell I trusted him as a team member in every basketball game. But I definitely didn’t trust him with my life, my problems or my secrets.
Not that I trusted anyone.
It was just something I was used to. Being alone with my problems and not able to tell anyone because all I learned during the first years of my wretched life was, that I wasn’t allowed to cry, to ask for help or show weakness in any other ways. That included that I couldn’t trust anyone because being strong meant you had to deal with all the things bothering me completely on my own.
So who was I supposed to be friend with when I couldn’t trust? What could something like friendship mean to me then?
Exactly. It couldn’t mean anything and that not only bothered me but it made me feel helpless. Something I wasn’t allowed to be, too. Feeling helpless, feeling the need to belong somewhere, to have friends… It was a shame in his father’s eyes.
He didn’t want to shame his father. He didn’t like him, he even was afraid of him. But that didn’t change anything. He was a complete screw-up and that didn’t help to make his fear and the pain go away.
~*~*~*~
The first people I considered as a friend was my roommate in college. A dark blond brown-eyed, small boy, five foot eight. Five foot nine at the most. But he was smart. That smart that I really liked to be him, although he was one of the most annoying boys he ever knew. But we had fun together and I almost made it to telling him some of my darkest secrets.
Almost. I wasn’t far from it, but then something happened. Something I never forgot and it broke me. I swore to myself that I will never trust anyone again. That I won’t call anyone a friend again.
It’s hard. My first friend was going to be the last friend in my whole life.
I have to admit our friendship lasted years. I already joined NCIS at that time and I told him many things about my life. But I never made it that far telling him the darkest secrets. My childhood sure as hell was a taboo-topic all the time and he didn’t push me. He even apologized when he asked something about my life before college and I fell in silence.
About my deepest secret he found out himself. It was a coincidence. It was my thirty-first birthday and he worked long. No-one at the office knew when my birthday was so I celebrated on my own. Going clubbing seemed to be the best idea to make it through the last hours of the day. A lot of alcohol made me numb against everything.
The problem is, when you are drunk you won’t realize your mistakes until you get the lesson. And I got it. The problem was, I got my lesson from my very only friend.
I was too damn drunk that night and so it didn’t bother me that I finally showed my homosexual orientation. I picked up a pretty boy in a gay bar. I have never been to one before, but this time I just couldn’t do otherwise. I wanted to get what I wanted just this one time.
And that was one time too much. The boy – better saying man – and me went outside the bar and what we did was definitely not something anyone should see or know about. The problem was the bar was on my friends way from work home. He often choose to take a walk home when his work had affected him.
I didn’t think about that and that finally led to him seeing us.
He was a homophobe. I didn’t know it until then but when the boy I was together with was finally gone and I wanted to go home and I wanted a good night’s rest before waking up with one of the worst hangovers ever I was attacked from behind. It was my friend. Did I ever mention his name? Paul. His name was Paul and everything he did was beat the crap out if me so I saw stars.
I laid still for almost an hour before I realized going home wasn’t really an option because I still shared my apartment with Paul. To go there and pick up my things was a pretty bad idea so I got back to NCIS headquarters, took a shower and did my best to hide all the bruises. It didn’t work with the black eye and my split lip but at least I didn’t look too bad.
A fight between two men wasn’t that much of a totally unnatural thing so it wouldn’t be too big a deal.
Or that was what I thought. But I was wrong. I was wrong like I was my whole life.
~*~*~*~
It is now that I know what friendship means. It’s when you have someone you can trust like I once was told in school. But it’s more than that. It is, when you trust each other, when you can talk to someone about everything. You don’t have to hide something from the other, it does not even bother you to tell him, because he sure as hell will accept it. You know, that he will accept it, because he would never disappoint you in one or another way. He’s just there when you need him. He listens to you when you tell him something you won’t tell anyone else. And he listens to you even when you refuse to tell him. He is there for you even when he is miles away. He would do everything for you, he would risk his job just to help you.
That’s what friendship is and although I swore myself I’d never find someone like that again I did. And it makes me feel wanted at least one time in my whole fucking life.
The one I’m talking about is my boss. He’s a bastard, that’s for sure, but he’s honest all the way without exception, because he isn’t someone who would risk you being mad a him. Gibbs is a marine, he learned to be honest. Everything counts is truth. He wouldn’t lie to me. He wouldn’t make me feel safe and wanted and important, if he didn’t mean it.
I know that and that’s why I trust him with my life.
He lays right beside me at the moment. Not because he is my friend. Friends can sit together, lay against each other, but that’s not the reason why we do it. We became more than friends not long ago. We desired each other so much, that our friendship turned into a serious relationship.
I shift in his arms as we lay in bed. He feels it. He feels me tensing. He must know that I thought about something long gone. About something that bothers me.
“You okay?”, he asks and I nod.
“Yeah, I am.” I snuggle deeper into his embrace and he must feel my warm breath against his bare chest. He pulls the blanket higher to sooth my slight shivers.
“You thought about Paul.” It’s a statement, not a question and once again I think about how bastard like him was able to make it sound nothing or at least nothing that could touch me. It’s a wound point in my past, one of uncountable points in my life and he knows that, but he is the only one in whom presence I don’t feel like it catches up on me.
“Uh huh.” Is all I say. He doesn’t need more, he knows what I want to say.
“You remember the day when I found you in the showers, naked, littered with all the bruises with the broken arm you didn’t even notice until I touched it, the black eye and your split lip?” He strokes my hair and plays with the strands. He likes them, tells me everyday how soft they are. I know that’s the reason because he head-slaps me all the time. He wants to feel my hair if he doesn’t have the chance to touch the rest of me.
I wince at his words, but when he strokes my left cheek I almost immediately relax. “You drove me to the hospital against my will.”
“But you were too weak to fight against me at this moment, remember?” He smiles lightly. The smile on his face I like the most. It’s so true but I never have the chance of seeing it much.
“Yeah, I know. And the following days you were pissed that I didn’t take the sick leave I was offered.” I continued. Indeed, I had two weeks off, but I couldn’t push myself to going back to my apartment because I was too afraid of Paul.
I slept weeks in the office, glad no-one noticed because I a few minutes before the regular working-hours I made it to the showers and changed my clothes – luckily I kept enough in my locker in case we had to work for days without the chance to go home at night. And because I didn’t make it more than a quarter hour I didn’t make it up to the third floor in time. I regularly was late all the time I worked at NCIS so no-one was suspicious.
But Gibbs noticed the odds in my behavior and one day he asked me, why I didn’t go home after work an why I only choose between five different suits when I sure as hell had more than enough to wear different clothes every day for at least three months. I knew that was something I should have thought about.
“You changed after that incidence. I was worried.”
I snorted. He and worried were too words you couldn’t put into once sentence most of the time. I knew he was worried about me but he only showed me that when we were alone. Near Kate or McGee he wouldn’t dare mentioning it.
“What?” He asks and I can hear, he is disgusted. I shift in his arm and give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Nothing, sweetheart. You know I love you, right?” I don’t need a response but he gives it nonetheless. He knows I feel better about that.
“Yeah, I know. And I love you, too, don’t forget that. I’m always worried about you when you’re in danger. My heart skipped a beat when you told me about the story with Paul. I just don’t want it to bother you anymore.” He brushes another strand of hair off my forehead and kisses me. “Let’s go to sleep. Been a long day.”
“Good night, Jethro.”
“Good nigh, Tony.”
I close my eyes and snuggle in next to him, his arms a welcome warmth I need ever after we talked about Paul and the memories that come with the thought of him. I need Gibbs’ presence to feel safe and he don’t mind giving it to me, because he’s not only my lover but my friend, too.
Finally after more than three decades I learned what friendship means, what friendship is about. And the person I have to thank for this is Gibbs, my boss, my lover, my friend. And I never want to miss him again.
~*~The End~*~
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Story Notes:
This was intended to be for my best friend and she just gave me permission to post it, so that's what I do.
Grammar and spelling migh be bad because English is not my mother language. So please forgive me if there are mistakes...
Please R&R!
Author's Chapter Notes:
He never knew what real friendship meant.
Chapter End Notes:
This was intended to be for my best friend and she just gave me permission to post it, so that's what I do.
Grammar and spelling migh be bad because English is not my mother language. So please forgive me if there are mistakes...
Please R&R!
Grammar and spelling migh be bad because English is not my mother language. So please forgive me if there are mistakes...
Please R&R!