Hi! New story, just a few chapters long. This is not the sequel to "Wet Dreams" but is a different story completely. It's very hot and heavy, so if hot boy on boy action isn't your thing, you might want to skip. Otherwise, please read and review.

In Dreams

He sighed as the hot, hard length pushed inside, pushing back to take all of it, wanting all of it. Strong fingers gripped his hips to aid his movements, slowing him down but keeping up the rhythm of push…pull…push…pull. A hand reached around to grasp his own hardness, drawing forth another groan as the beat of hips was now accompanied by the pull of fingers. The oil used lubricated their movements, and looking down, he saw his shaft, gleaming in the firelight, encircled by that hand. The movements increased in speed, hips snapping against him, hand pulling tighter until with a groan, his climax came over him, white lightening bursting behind his eyes. Inside of him he felt a pause and then heat as another climax was reached. With a sigh, both men tumbled to the ground, the soft furs cushioning the fall.

"Thank you, Centurion," came the whisper behind him.

He smiled at the name, even though he had been raised far above the rank of Centurion for years. "My pleasure, General," he said, moving to his back as the other man withdrew. "And my honor." He watched as a look of concern graced the other man's features. "You doubt me, General?"

"Not doubt, Centurion," came the reply. "However, I hope you do not feel it is an obligation, that it truly is a pleasure for you."

"Could you not tell?"

"Completion does not always equal a willing participation, Centurion," the General replied, turning his face away in shame. "We have seen enough of our fellow soldiers take advantage of both men and women we have conquered, and while they may have felt a climax at the end it was neither their pleasure nor honor."

He sat up quickly, grasping the General's shoulders to bring his face back to him. "This is not force, General," he assured. "I am strong enough to say no." The General raised a skeptical brow. "Yes, even to you, sir," he confirmed. "I have said no before, to others, of higher and more noble rank. I choose to be with you. Why just the other day…"

A growl came from the General. "Someone has approached you?" he asked, not hiding his jealousy. "Who? I will have his head."

He smiled. "I will not tell you," he said, leaning in for a quick kiss. "Just know that I am yours, body, heart, mind and soul. My arm is yours in battle, and my body is yours in bed. I belong to you, General, and will until I die."

The blue eyes above him flashed, but anything that might have happened was stilled as a call came from outside the tent. "General! The Germainans are moving down the hills toward our positions!"

He watched as the last of the enemy was dispatched by soldiers in his own legion. The battle was short but fierce. The remnant of the Germainian forces had staged one last, suicidal attack against their victors, and the General had offered leniency should they accept the Emperors rule. All had declined, so all were dispatched to the afterlife with one stroke of the sword each. He shook his head at the waste but understood the reasoning behind the General's actions. To leave an enemy behind is to assure yourself of future complications.

A familiar voice rang out. "Centurion!"

He looked about, spotting the General and jogging over to join his commander, ignoring the looks from his peers and subordinates alike. "Sir."

"Come with me."

They left the camp area, moving through the woods to a small enclave of huts surrounding a long dormant fire pit.

"Let us scout out these dwellings and perhaps we can assign them to the medics and our injured soldiers. Recovery will be accomplished much faster out of the elements."

He nodded, touched by the General's interest and care of the fallen. "Let me proceed, General" he said, withdrawing his sword and entering the first hut.

The light was dying but he could see the area was empty and beckoned the General through the door.

The General nodded. "These will do," he said, turning back to the doorway.

Neither saw the shadowed figure until it was too late. A flash of light bounced off the sword as it arced through the air toward the General. A moment later, the General was on the ground.

He reacted with instinct, slicing through the air and grunting with satisfaction as he felt the blade make contact. He heard a thud, then a second one as the Germanian's head fell a split second after his body but didn't care. His only thought was on his General.

"Sir!" He knelt on the ground, pulling the General into his arms, the warmth of blood registering into his brain. "General…no…"

"Yes," came the answer, breath wet with blood. "Thank you, Centurion."

"Nooooooo!"

"NOOOOOO!"

Tony bolted up in bed, coming awake with a start, heart pounding, sheets soaked as always. The dream always did this to him, made him shake with fear and hurt and pain. He shook his head, hoping to capture a bit more of the dream, but no, all he had was what he always had. Sharp blue eyes, the feeling of belonging, and the…death. Oh, yeah. The sex. Tony did remember the sex. Hot, hard, mind blowing sex of the male on male variety. Tony didn't wonder too much about that, since sex and men weren't a foreign idea to him. But despite the sex the dream frustrated him.

For three weeks now he had the same dream. Not every night, but most nights. It was getting where he didn't even want to sleep, and for Tony that was a big deal. He looked a the clock. 5:15. Tony sighed and swung his legs over the side of the bed, resigning himself to getting up and not even trying to sleep anymore.

The day went slowly. Tony fought against the yawns, drinking cup after cup of coffee to trying to stay awake as he worked on paperwork. And it wasn't like he really wanted to go to sleep. The last thing he wanted was to dream the dream again, to see the light go out of those bright blue eyes, to feel the pain of loss…even though he wasn't sure who he was losing. He fought down the side of him that said yes, you know who it is but it makes no sense so just go on ignoring it and maybe it won't be real.

"Gear up."

Tony's head lifted as Gibbs said those magic words. "What's up, Boss?" he asked, already rising from his chair to grab his back pack, following Gibbs.

"Report of a dead Marine in Valley Vista," Gibbs said, nodding to McGee.

"Valley Vista is a camp ground for Marine families," McGee said, eyes still on his Blackberry.

"So, what do we know, Boss?" Tony asked, catching the keys as Gibbs tossed them over.

"That's it, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "We'll find out more when we get there."

The campground was a quiet, picturesque slice of Marine heaven, Tony thought. Cabins with bunks and real bathrooms, but just rustic enough to quench the whole 'hoo-rah' side of camping Marines and their families. Tony and McGee sketched and shot the scene, where Sgt. McPherson lay, a bullet hole evident in his chest. "Kinda easy to see the cause of death," Tony said as Ducky and Palmer rolled in with the gurney.

"Is that so, Anthony?" Ducky said, removing the liver probe from his bag. "Shall I just retire now, and let you handle all the autopsy's from now on?"

"No, Ducky, I didn't…" Tony looked at McGee for help, but the Probie just smiled and continued to take pictures. "Sorry, Ducky. Won't happen again."

"Probable cause of death, Duck?" Gibbs asked as he came up to them.

"Gun shot wound to the chest," Ducky said, smiling at Tony's expression. "But as always, I reserve the right to make a positive deliberation at a later time."

"Okay, Ducky," Gibbs said. "Tony, let's check out some of the other cabins, see if they're all the same, make sure there's no other bodies."

"On your six, Boss," Tony said, dropping the sketch pad and following Gibbs out.

They moved down the row of cabins, finding each one the same—a small kitchen, lounge area, and two bedrooms, both with twin beds. Tony walked through the cabins with Gibbs, a eerie feeling coming over him as the they searched the empty spaces. Tony shook his head, trying to dampen the feeling even as his hand moved to rest on his gun.

"There's nothing here, Tony," Gibbs said, moving toward the door to exit the cabin.

It happened so fast both men were taken by surprise. The man behind the door jumped out, gun leveled at Gibbs. Tony reacted by instinct, shoving the older man down just as the gun flashed. Tony lifted his own weapon and fired twice toward that flash, knowing without even checking he'd hit the shooter twice in the chest.

Dropping to his knees, Tony gathered Gibbs close, hands moving roughly to find where the blood was coming from. There, right there. A graze along Gibbs neck, just missing the carotid artery. Tony's hand pressed hard to stop the flow of blood as his other hand reached for his phone. "McGee! Cabin Eight, get an ambulance—Gibbs has been shot!"

The tossed the phone aside and pulled Gibbs closer. "It's okay, Boss," Tony said, pressing harder on the wound. "You'll be okay." Tony wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, but he kept saying it over and over. "You'll be okay."

Gibbs' hand reached up to grasp Tony's blood covered one. "Thank you…" he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"What, Boss?" Tony leaned down to catch the words.

"Thank you, Centurion."

Tony's eyes widened in surprise as Gibbs passed out in his arms.