A post - yay! I've been so busy (moving and starting a new job, whew!) that it's a small miracle I actually sat down and wrote anything at all... I've got a bunch of half-finished fics sitting around and my goal is to really make an effort to finish them in the (hopefully near) future. For my own sanity, if nothing else. :) So, for the moment, it's NCIS: LA again. Enjoy!
Also on AO3 -
here Title: Speak Louder
Pairing: Callen/Sam
Rating: PG
Word Count: 514
Summary: Set during Ambush (1x08), right before the last scene. :) (Cross-posted to
ncis_salmon.)
The headlights cut through the darkness of the winding, abandoned back roads. Sam tries to focus on the road, not on his passenger - still, silent, staring blankly out the window…
He’s known G. Callen for about three years now (he actually knows the count, down to the exact day, because he feels like someone should keep track of these things and he’s always been the more sentimental one) but it still unnerves him to see his partner so… un-Callen-like.
Sam grips the steering wheel tighter to keep from reaching across to touch him. He knows actions speak louder than words, but he’s already gone headfirst into a militia camp, unarmed, and with no precise plan in mind just to save his partner’s ass, so Sam feels like he’s said quite a lot for one day.
He pulls into his usual parking space in back of Headquarters and kills the engine. He sits there for a moment, twisting the keys in his fingers and trying to decide if he needs to say something after all, because sometimes G can be a little oblivious about these things (either that or he does an exceptional job of hiding everything, which is more likely). Sam decides against it. He doesn’t have anything useful to say, anyway.
He’s about to open the door when Callen grabs his arm, stopping him. Sam turns toward his partner and in the darkness their mouths meet.
Callen smells like the woods - like trees and earth and air - and he kisses Sam fervently. Sam can relate; he knows how close they were to serious trouble today - one wrong word or one misinterpreted gesture and that could have been the end. He kisses back with all his pent-up anxiety, pulling his partner as closely as he can in the small, awkward space.
“That was a stupid thing you did-” Callen murmurs, but Sam silences him, first with his fingers and then with his lips.
“Don’t,” he says firmly, because he needs a minute to just touch him and not think.
Sam doesn’t explain that, but he doesn’t need to, because Callen gets it. In an uncharacteristically tender move, Callen brings his hands to Sam’s face and traces his features - cheeks, ears, neck. They’re too close and it’s too dark for Sam to see his expression, but his touch feels a lot like thank you.
Callen grips his shoulder tightly, mimicking the way Sam touched him earlier and the gesture is not lost on either of them. He lets out a deep breath and feels Callen do the same. They sit in silence for a few minutes. Sam leans in for one last kiss, which turns into two, and then a few more, before they finally pull apart.
Inside, only moments later, Callen starts again with the same complaint, but Sam doesn’t mind playing along this time. It’s give-and-take (and he already got what he needed). They both know better than to take each other’s criticism too seriously… After all, actions speak louder than words.
.