blue flamingos

First Kiss: Cam/Colby

Fandom: Stargate SG1/Numb3rs

Category/Rated: Slash, PG

Year/Length: 2009/ ~513 words

Pairing: Cam/Colby

Disclaimer: No, I don't own them, for which I should think they're profoundly grateful.

Prompt: Cam/Colby, first kiss

Feedback: Yes please. Even if it's bad. Especially if it's bad.

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Cam doesn't have much to do with the army guys, even though they're sharing the camp. He likes them well enough, when he has to have anything to do with them, and, for army guys, they're pretty restrained about the whole air force versus army thing. Still, though, they're army, which means they bounce around like little kids when they're not shooting things, and they don't appreciate the beauty of a finely tuned air craft, and they think they're tougher and wittier than Cam and his pilots, which is so far from true he's surprised even army grunts would believe it.

Although, in the interests of fair and full disclosure, Cam would have to admit that they're not all that bad. Particularly the sergeant from Idaho who keeps drifting over to look at Cam's jet. Cam can excuse a lot in someone who traces his fingertips along the edge of the wing like he's touching something fragile and precious.

"Hey," he says, coming up behind the guy. "Granger, right?"

He half expects Granger to snatch his hand away, but he just turns a little, squinting into the sun, and smiles. It makes him look five years younger, which Cam's not sure he likes. "Yeah. Colby. Mitchell?"

"At your service," Cam says, and he doesn't miss the flicker of interest in Granger's eyes. "My friends call me Cam."

Granger keeps hanging around and keeps hanging around, and it'd be rude not to talk to him, so Cam does, even while he's telling himself that this is a bad idea, because he's in the middle of the desert, being shot at every time he goes up, and it's no place to be letting some Idaho born army guy look at him like that. It's sure as hell no place to be looking back.

And then Colby's jeep takes a turn too fast a mile or so from camp and throws Colby and one of the other guys a couple feet down the road. He's not badly hurt, but he's got a nasty head wound and a concussion, enough to net him a stay in the med tent.

It'd just be rude for Cam not to go visit. When he says hello, Colby opens his eyes, groans and closes them again. "Too much light," he says.

"Well, if you will go throwing yourself from moving vehicles," Cam says, sitting carefully on the edge of Colby's cot.

"Not like it was on purpose," Colby says.

"Didn't your momma ever tell you to wear your seatbelt?"

"My mom said there were exceptions for war zones."

"She was lying," Cam says solemnly, watching Colby crack a slight smile.

"She lying when she said she could kiss it better as well?" Colby asks, his eyes slitting open just enough for Cam to see the flash of pupil.

"Want to test it?" Cam asks, and risks it, leans down and gently kisses Colby's banged up head, his closing eyes, and then his mouth, too fast, too light to really feel it.

When he pulls away, Colby's smiling. "Not lying," he says.


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