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"There are three things extremely hard:
steel, a diamond, and to know one's self."
~Benjamin Franklin~
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
Title: Troika
Rating: M
WARNINGS: Slash: G/Sam; Squick: M-preg G Callen; Whump: G Callen
Story Details and Full Disclaimer in Chapter 1: My stories are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. This is a work intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by CBS and the producers of NCIS:LA.
No Low T
Chapter 15
While G appreciated the doctor's efforts to keep him off the testosterone replacement, he loathed the alternative. Every three days he required a mandatory infusion of parental iron. The second part of the treatment included daily monitoring of his red blood cell count until his iron level was stabilized. Before he left the hospital less than 24 hours after he was admitted, Dr. Daniels gave him another parental iron infusion and took another red blood cell count.
Sam pushed G out to the Challenger and set the break on the wheelchair. "Straight home?"
"Of course."
"Right."
"Plans?"
"Maybe." Sam helped him into the passenger seat. "Go somewhere and get a bite to eat and smooch afterward."
G wrapped both arms around his husband's neck and drew him down into a kiss. "We already smooched in the ICU cubicle and now you want to find a spot to ravish my body."
"I've missed that part of our relationship."
"Me too." G slipped a hand down to his husband's tight glutes. "And these too."
"What about those?" Sam shot him a look.
"Pumping action." He grinned wide and released his hands.
"Someone's asking to get more than they bargained for and soon."
"You threatening me with some action, big guy?"
"And now you are begging." Sam buckled G's seatbelt. "Don't start anything you can't finish."
"I'm feeling it." Before his husband straightened and closed the door, G reached out and pressed his hand down the front of Sam's tight jeans.
Without a word, Sam closed the door and slipped into the driver's seat. "Where do you have in mind?"
"The new shower Hetty built for us off the master bedroom."
"You want action in the shower."
"This conversation is getting kinkier by the moment."
"I'm not the one proposing a—"
"Action, that's all it is, Sam, and we haven't done it in a long time and he took the stitches out and—"
Before G finished his sentence, Sam reached over and released his husband's seatbelt and drew him across the center console. "Time to test your theory."
"In the parking lot?" His jaw dropped open.
Sam enveloped G's mouth and forced his tongue inside while he slipped one hand down the back of his husband's loose sweat pants and kneaded the man's tight buttocks, one cheek at a time.
"Please." He panted.
"Is that your turned on voice or your t-is-too-low voice?"
"Just pull them off and stick it in already."
"Pushy and forward," Sam said, settling G back onto the passenger seat and buckling his seatbelt.
"What?" G gave him a disappointed look.
"Let's get home before you and I both implode from lack of sex." Sam buckled his seatbelt and drove toward home, faster than he usually did.
"Don't get a ticket."
"Don't jinx me." He reached over and pressed his hand down the front of his husband's sweats. "Nice."
"Damn." G pulled down his pants to expose himself.
"Someone might see."
"At this point I'm desperate and don't really care."
Sam pressed his hand on his husband's semi-hard member. "It's functioning."
"It better."
"Low T can—"
"It's not going to cause problems," G said, breathless. "Just pump it."
"Nope."
"What?"
"Waiting until we arrive home and then I'll ravish you in the shower."
"Screw that!" G reached his hand over to his husband's pants.
Sam grasped G's hand holding it away from his body.
"Come on, man, how about a little foreplay?"
"You are like a ravenous, sex-crazed—"
"No, I'm desperate for you and what you have to offer."
"Two infusions of iron within 12 hours and you've changed from a sexless and—"
"That's… below…" G jerked his hand away from his husband and crossed his arms. He stared at the passing cars in the opposite lane refusing to even glance at Sam.
"Come on, sweetheart—"
"Don't even try to apologize." He huffed out his indignation. "I wasn't sexless."
"Then what would you call it?"
G faced the passenger window. "Go screw yourself."
Sam pulled up into the driveway and parked the car. "You'd better pull up your sweats."
"Screw you!" He released his seatbelt, stepped out of the Challenger, and pulled up his sweats. And just in time. Hetty. Damn. She pulled up in the driveway right after them. G stomped into the house without saying hello to her.
"We're going to need about two hours of private time," Sam said, passing Hetty on the walkway and entering the house.
"Everything okay with you two?"
He stopped halfway into the foyer and faced her. "No, better give it three hours."
Hetty nodded.
Sam trudged toward the master bedroom and found the door locked. He sighed. "Come on, man, open the door."
G flung open the door and stood stark naked before him.
Sam shook his head and entered the bedroom, closed the door behind him and took his husband into his arms. "Just as sexy as ever."
"I hope so." G took him by the hand. "Let's go make love." He strolled with Sam toward the bathroom. "Sorry."
He started to undress.
"Let me do that," he said pulling off Sam's short sleeve, midnight blue t-shirt. "I lost it in the car." G planted tender kisses down his husband's dark and smooth, sinewy chest and torso. "You are right of course, I've been sexless and I've hated it," he whispered.
"Sorry."
"Talkative."
Sam placed a single finger under his husband's chin and pressed it upward until their eyes met. "I love you." He tenderly kissed G's forehead and trailed more kisses down the sides of his face until their hungry mouths touched into a passionate, lingering kiss. Sam wrapped his arms around his husband's waist drawing him closer into his hard and warm body. "I've missed this. I've missed us."
Thank you for reading my story. More to come soon... no pun intended.