It is four o’clock in the afternoon on a Wednesday and Jensen is in bed with Cougar, both of them only in their boxers. This is not exactly what he’d thought he’d be doing when he came into work this morning. Not that it’s something he’d complain about, normally, but the whole set-up is also unfortunately for work. Cougar’s lying on his back, staring up at him, looking bored. At least, Jensen’s interpreting it as bored; it’s not really different from his default expression.
Of course he and Cougar would have to be the ones pretending to be the dead married gay assassin team. Of course. God, what is Jensen’s life.
“It just looks like you’re doing push-ups,” Pooch says into his earpiece, “Show a little enthusiasm! I’ve seen better fake sex on Lifetime.”
“Why don’t you come here and simulate it if you’re such an expert,” Jensen grits out. Enthusiasm is so not the problem here, but he can’t tell Pooch that.
“Because Jean-Paul was not a beautiful black man, and also Jolene would be jealous. She’d want the chance to have fake sex with Cougar, too.”
Cougar rolls his eyes, and before Jensen can stop him, Cougar wraps his legs around Jensen’s hips. It makes Jensen thrust involuntarily, because holy shit that’s hot, and if Cougar couldn’t tell Jensen was hard before, he most certainly can now. Cougar’s eyes widen in surprise, which makes Jensen close his, because this just became about a thousand times more mortifying.
And, yeah, okay, maybe Jensen’s been hard since he saw Cougar in that mouthwatering black-on-black bespoke suit that he so carelessly tossed onto a chair earlier. That doesn’t mean he wants Cougar to know.
Jensen’s shocked when Cougar doesn’t run for the hills, but instead pulls him down even closer. Cougar brushes one of his hands against Jensen’s short hair, scratching his nails lightly against Jensen’s scalp and hello, yes, wow. Apparently his dick really, really likes that. Who knew. He hides his face in the crook of Cougar’s neck, because this would be too embarrassing otherwise.
This has blown way past simulated sex and left it whimpering in the dust.
Cougar squeezes his legs and Jensen starts thrusting again, only now there’s friction, oh, Jesus Christ. He’s going to come in his boxers. He’s right on the edge when Cougar forces him still, and Jensen is not making a whining noise in protest, not at all.
In one smooth movement, Cougar snaps the curtains shut to the protests of Pooch, slides out of bed and drags Jensen with him to the bathroom.
“What—” Jensen gets out before Cougar’s ripping out his ear piece and Jensen’s as well, tossing them out into the main room and shutting the bathroom door.
Cougar pushes him up against it and kisses him, almost viciously, which makes Jensen groan into his mouth. Cougar pulls back and gets both of their boxers down, bringing his hand up to his mouth to lick it wet. It’s obscene. Jensen can only stare at him in a sex stupor.
Cougar wraps his hand around both of their cocks and Jensen thunks his head back against the door, swearing.
“I have c-condoms,” breath catching as Cougar palms the head of his dick and twists, “in my bag," because Jensen is nothing if not an incurable optimist.
“Next time,” Cougar says, and sucks what will probably become a giant hickey into where his neck meets his shoulder.
Jensen can’t complain, though, because he’s too busy coming his brains out. Everything becomes much, much slicker, and Cougar digs his fingers into Jensen’s hip painfully hard, and comes too, panting.
“You know, we’re going to have to talk about this after the case,” Jensen says, just managing to keep himself upright while Cougar cleans up the mess. Cougar gives him a look that says very clearly how much he likes that idea, but doesn't disagree or run away. It must be love.