A/N: This idea came to me after hearing “Bad Habits” by Ed Sheeran. He’s not usually my favorite, but a couple lyrics spoke to me. Set sometime between Kensi being rescued from Afghanistan and “Humbug”.
My bad habits lead to late nights, endin' alone
Conversations with a stranger I barely know
Swearin' this will be the last, but it probably won't
I got nothin' left to lose, or use, or do
My bad habits lead to wide eyes stare into space
And I know I'll lose control of the things that I say
Yeah, I was lookin' for a way out, now I can't escape
Nothin' happens after two, it's true, it's true
My bad habits lead to you
Deeks knows it’s a terrible idea. It’s after 11 at night, he needs to work in the morning, yet he’s driving to Kensi’s apartment anyway. All it took was a four-word text, “What are you doing?”, and he was already reaching for his keys.
It doesn’t matter that he’s promised himself he wouldn’t respond anymore. That he wouldn’t drop everything and anything he was doing to see Kensi. Even though it makes the ache in his chest grow stronger every time.
As he stands outside her door, waiting for her to answer his quiet knock, he pulls in a deep breath. He dreads this moment just as much as he anticipates it.
“Hey,” Kensi says, looking relieved when she sees him. Like she wasn’t sure if he’d actually follow through this time. As usual, she’s dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt with half the letters worn off. Something in Deeks’ chest clenches at the sight of her. It’s so much worse than during the day, when they have work and other people to distract them.
He follows her in, sits on one end of the couch while Kensi grabs a beer. There’s an open bag of pretzels and an empty takeout container on the table, suggesting that Kensi has been camped out for some time.
When she comes back, she puts two bottles of beer on the table, and then sits on the opposite side of the couch.
“So, what are we watching tonight?” he asks, resting his head on his fist. He’s tired, in more way than one. “Models or bad cooks?”
“Actually, I found this version of the Scarlett Pimpernel I used to watch with my dad, sometimes,” she says, flipping to a different channel. Deeks raises an eyebrow at the period costumes that fill the screen, which definitely isn’t in Kensi’s normal wheelhouse. “It’s set around the French Revolution,” Kensi continues.
Deeks would like to say that he’s not interested as she explains the premise of the movie, but that would be an outright lie. He’s thrilled to learn another little thing about her, that she’s willing to share another piece of herself with him.
At some point, the distance between them begins to shrink,-Deeks restlessly shifts a few inches towards the center, Kensi moves closer to whisper something in his ear-until Kensi’s leaning against his shoulder. Her body heat is overwhelming and simultaneously not enough. Deeks wants to pull her closer just as much as he needs to move away. He does neither.
Kensi snuggles in closer, both of them pretending that there’s absolutely nothing wrong, that this doesn’t cross the shaky boundaries they’ve established. It would be so easy to turn his head just a little. Kensi’s cheek, her lips, are so close.
She sighs, head shifting on his shoulder, falling onto his chest, as Kensi succumbs to sleep. He wants to kiss her so badly, to hold her like he’s only been allowed to on a few occasions. He wants this. All the time and not just in the few moments when they let their control slip.
Closing his eyes against a fresh wave of regret, Deeks starts to maneuver his way out from under Kensi, needing to escape. Just as he frees one arm, one of Kensi’s hands clenches in his shirt.
“Where you going?” she mumbles, eyes still closed, barely awake, but concern in her voice. Deeks stops immediately, even though he could easily pull free.
“Nowhere,” he lies, resting his hand on her back. “Go back to sleep.” She settles back in with a contented sigh.
His heart aches more than ever and he knows that it will be so much worse in the morning when they pretend it never happened. It kills every time he leaves in the early morning, “friends” once more.
Every time he swears he won’t do it again and every time he fails.
It’s a bad habit. One he can’t ever seem to break.
A/N: Lyrics from “Bad Habits” by Ed Sheeran.
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