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Don't Touch His Shit!

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Jensen had been in worse binds than this before.

Not that he could think of any right now, really, but he was sure he had.

There was the time in Canada (of all places) when he’d been captured and about 2 feet from having his neck broken by a few unnervingly friendly gangsters. But at least there hadn’t been bugs there, and that warehouse had been air-conditioned.

There were a lot of bugs here, what with it being in the middle of the fucking Indian jungle, and air-conditioning was a dream away.

On the Brightside, at least Cougar was with him.

The two of them had held back, Jensen watching the map and radar while feeding Clay coordinates and info through the comms, and Cougar with his eye on Clay, Pooch, and Aisha as they cautiously made their way into what seemed like an abandoned village.

Which, as it turned out, was in fact an abandoned village of absolutely no use to anyone, ever, and the real danger was back where he and Cougar were perched, stupidly out in the open and available for surprise attack at any moment. Jensen felt like a real dumbass for not saying anything about the little blips on his radar screen that turned out to be the very enemies Clay and the others were trying to capture in the village.

He’d—well he’d thought they were monkeys.

In his defense, they had seen some monkeys as they’d been setting up their stakeout spot. Then again, most monkeys don’t carry around guns that they then use to point at the back of your head and tie your ass up to lead you back to their super-uncomfortable-bug-filled-no-air-conditioning-evil-warehouse.

“My bad, Cougs,” he’d said sheepishly to his partner as they were tromped through the dense forest towards said warehouse.

Cougar had shaken his head and gave Jensen an apologetic look that the hacker interpreted as remorse because Cougar had been the one who’d chosen that particular spot for them in the first place.

Jensen was about to tell him to take himself off the hook cuz it totally wasn’t his fault, but then a gun jabbed sharply into the small of his back and he shut his mouth for once, trying to convey this to Cougar with expression alone. Cougar just seemed a bit confused, his eyes all deep-set and serious. Jensen wasn’t nearly as good at the whole talk-with-your-face thing as he was with the talk-with-your-mouth thing. Besides, no one could beat Cougar when it came to saying a lot with little or no actual speaking.

Once they’d reached the warehouse they were tossed roughly inside a large, dingy room filled with even more scary, Indian men with big guns to point at them.

Hey, at least they weren’t pointed at his junk. Jensen had had quite enough guns pointed at his junk to last him a lifetime. They were brought over to the far end of the room, which was probably supposed to be the nicer part, Jensen couldn’t quite tell, then there was another jab to his lower back and a hand pushing him to the floor in a bow in front of some big, mafia-boss looking Indian guy. Cougar fell to his knees right beside him a moment later, the Big Guy leering at the two of them over his moustache.

That was the bind Jensen and Cougar were in now. Surely there were worse binds than this.

So, maybe their hands were tied really fucking tightly behind their backs. And maybe they didn’t have a weapon between them; they’d been searched and de-knifed when they were first caught—they’d even gotten the one in Cougars boot! Aaaaand maybe they were in some creepy, deserted warehouse that Jensen knew wasn’t on any map because he’d memorized the maps, in the middle of the Indian forest with no way to contact their team with their location that they didn’t even know anyway.

Eh, Canada was close, but the air-conditioning definitely made a difference. Canadians smelled better too, Jensen remarked silently to himself as he scrunched his nose.

Then the Big Guy started talking and Jensen had to get over the smell and start paying attention. He spoke English pretty well; not surprising considering more people spoke English in India than any other country in the world. Jensen remembered rattling off that fact as they were flying into the country on a small cargo plane an old friend of Clay’s let them borrow.

Jensen made sure to store away any valuable information the Big Guy let slip as he rambled on about the inner workings of his group. Unfortunately, he didn’t mention anything about Max, choosing to instead spend about ten minutes on a very excited rant about what he was going to do with him and Cougar and the rest of the Losers once he’d captured them as well. He didn’t seem to know who they were or what they were there for, but he was having a fun time coming up with his own ideas and neither Cougar nor Jensen felt like informing him of their real reason for being there.

Finally he got around to trying to interrogate them. Oddly enough he started with Cougar, which made absolutely no sense because if you took one look at Jensen wearing his “the cake is a lie” t-shirt it became plainly obvious that if anyone was going to spill some secrets it wasn’t gonna be the cool and confident Spanish sniper at his right, it was gonna be him. Not that he would spill any of The Losers secrets like, ever, but it was the idea of the thing, you know?

When Cougar didn’t answer, and kept not answering, chancing a sly smirk at the Big Guy, the man barked at one of the guards to slam a big, metal rod across Cougar’s back, making the man exhale and crumble to the ground for a moment as pain surely rocked through him.

Jensen winced, but tried not to get too upset. He knew how tough Cougar was and something like this wouldn’t get him down for too long. Sure enough, Cougar sat up a moment later, stretching his shoulders to show that nothing was even broken. That earned him another crack across his arm, then another couple at his shoulder, the sharp edge of the rod enough to break through Cougar’s shirt and his skin after the second or third blow.

Jensen grit his teeth, knowing that it’d just show weakness if he so much as whispered Cougar’s name and would probably fuck his teammate over even worse in the long run. He bit his lip watched as the man beat Cougar a bit more then stepped back, allowing the Big Guy to ask if he wanted to talk now.

Jensen used this brief reprise to glance around the room and try to calculate some way out of this damn place. He was sure Cougar had already started doing the same thing before he’d been picked for the interrogation. Jensen squinted for an exit but besides the door they’d entered from on the opposite side of the room he saw nothing.

Maybe if he could get to the Big Guy and hold him hostage the others would back off long enough for them to get their hands on some of the guns. That might just work if he and Cougar tried it together. Then again, there was still the itty-bitty little problem of their hands still being tied unnaturally tight behind their backs.

Jensen tried to start coming up with a second plan, but just then the interrogation of Cougar recommenced and some thug was grabbing a handful of Cougar’s thick, long hair, pulling his head back and holding it still. Before Jensen even had an opportunity to get seriously outraged because, hey! Only he is allowed to grab Cougar’s hair like that! A second thug appeared beside Cougar and nimbly grabbed the cowboy hat from the sniper’s head and placed it on his own balding scalp.

The low growl emitted from Cougar’s chest was drowned out by the exclamation that Jensen couldn’t really have kept contained if he’d tried.

“Woah! Do not touch his hat, bro!”

Cougar shot a look at him and the thug quickly went from looking surprised to grinning broadly and bending down to smirk in Jensen’s face.
“Why not?” he said, accent much thicker than the Big Guy’s. “Is a nice hat.”

Jensen glared his best glare, the one he reserved for people who were still using Windows XP, but the guy just laughed, causing a few of the other idiot thugs to laugh along with him. Jensen glared even harder and said thickly,

“You do not touch my man Cougar’s hat.”

The thug just kept smirking and now Jensen was really pissed. The guy was still wearing Cougar’s hat, it probably had his nasty smell in it now, and they had hurt Cougar too. Jensen was just about fed up with their bullshit. The guy leaned in closer to Jensen’s face, and if he thought the smell was bad before that was nothing compared to having one of these guys breathe in his face.

“What you going to do about it?”

Next thing the guy knew he was sporting a nasty bruised cheek because Jensen had chosen that moment to slam his head into the thug’s gross, bad-breath-having, hat-stealing face. He figured that moment was as good as any to try and fight his way out of this. Cougar took the hint before Jensen even acted, moving at the same time as his partner did and kicking back into another goon’s knee.

They got about two feet towards the Big Guy when a gun went off and both captured Losers found themselves face down in the dirt at the Big Guy’s feet once again. Jensen’s head was turned to the right and he caught Cougar’s eye, giving him an apologetic smile as he breathed heavily and felt someone’s fingers grabbing at his face.

Everything got a little fuzzier and Jensen realized that someone had removed his glasses. Next thing he heard was the voice of same thug who’d stolen Cougar’s hat, huffing and angry in his ear.

“I took your stuff too. How you like that, tough guy?”

The next moment, Jensen felt someone grab at the back of his head, nearly ripping his damn hair out of his skull with the force they used to pull his head back like they’d done to Cougar earlier. Except this time there was a knife pressing dangerously against his throat.

He vaguely saw Cougar struggle beside him and he swallowed. This bind was quickly escalating into the worst he’d ever been in, without a doubt. There had been no knife to his throat in Canada—though there had been in Madagascar, West Africa, and twice in Mexico. Still, none of those were quite as bad as this, and Cougar was stuck here with him, which was just pretty shitty. Not that Jensen would’ve really wanted to face this alone, but better him than Cougar.

“You want your friend to live,” the Big Guy said, and Jensen could hear the smile on his lips, “then you can tell us why you are here.”

Cougar spat, Jensen could hear the sound it made as it hit the ground and the rumble of surprise from the watching thugs. He smirked; he would have done the same thing. He was pretty sure any Loser would have done the same thing in that situation.

Jensen heard the Big Guy angrily shout something in hindi, felt something hard and blunt against the back of his head, and then everything went black.

 

Carlos was the name he was born with, but he had been Cougar longer than he could remember. This was because when he became angry, he turned wild, and not a damn thing could stop him.

When he saw Jensen fall, eyes closed and mouth slightly agape, probably just about to spew another smart-alek comment to get himself in even more trouble, the animal was let loose.

His vision went red and his upper lip curled over his teeth in a feral snarl, eyes focusing in on the glasses held in the balding thug’s hand. From then on it was just crunching bones against his fists and broken bodies under his feet.

He threw off the guy who was keeping him kneeling on the floor, quickly hopping over his hands so they were in front of him and slamming down his bound fists into the man’s nose. He felt it break beneath him and smirked as he grabbed the metal rod between his tied hands and quickly slammed it against another thug who was running up behind him. Before the guy even fell, Cougar already had his eyes on the man wearing his hat and holding Jensen’s glasses.

The guy looked a little scared, as he should, and simply held back as Cougar fought off another two or three guys. Out of the corner of his eye he saw someone leading the Big Guy away, but in that moment it didn’t matter. The few guys with guns tried to shoot at him, but they were laughably terrible shots, even at this close of a distance and he made sure to take them out before they accidentally hit his teammate lying unconscious on the ground.

He kept getting closer to the man holding Jensen’s glasses, and once the thug realized Cougar was targeting him he grabbed a gun from another guy’s hands, shakily dropping the glasses as he tried to load the gun and fire it at Cougar. Cougar took out another guy but lost the metal rod in the process, forgetting about it instantly as he stalked closer to the man wearing his hat.

He seemed to think Cougar was angry about his hat, because he attempted to take it off and toss it to the ground beside where the glasses had fallen. When Cougar reached it he stooped, not casting a single glance at his precious hat, and picked up the glasses, miraculously not broken despite being dropped.

The man may have whimpered when Cougar reached him, unable to figure out the gun and trying to use it as a blunt weapon instead. Cougar grabbed it mid-air, ripping it from the man’s weak hands, and flung it across the room. Cougar had the man backed up into a wall with nowhere to go, and the rest of the guys seemed to have vanished along with the Big Guy.

Cougar held Jensen’s glasses right up to the man’s eyes, leaning in real close to growl as lowly and as threateningly as he could,

“You do not touch mi querido’s things, comprende?”

Then, for good measure, he slammed the man’s balding head into the concrete wall behind him, leaving him to collapse on the ground. Cougar didn’t even check if he was dead or alive.

Job well done, Cougar strode back to Jensen, stopping only to grab his hat and place it safely back on his head. When he reached his teammate he dropped down, turning the unconscious man over and laying his head in his lap. He let a soft hand stroke gently across Jensen’s forehead and cheek, whispering Spanish promises into deaf ears as he waited for Jensen to wake up. Not a few moments after the warehouse had been singlehandedly emptied by Cougar; Aisha, Pooch, and Clay burst in. Clay rushed to check on Jensen but Cougar just held a hand up to say that he was fine.

Clay joined Pooch and Aisha in searching through the few random piles of documents in the warehouse. Cougar remained on the ground, listening to the sound of Jensen’s breathing and feeling so glad that was something he could still hear. He’d been frightened when that knife was against Jensen’s throat, but when that man had taken Jensen’s glasses, then he’d gotten angry.

Jensen moved in his lap, groaning lightly as his eyes fluttered open. Cougar was still stroking his cheek, but with his other hand he carefully placed Jensen’s glasses back on his face. Jensen squinted up at him, still not entirely awake. Out of what seemed like nowhere, Jensen’s face split in a brilliant smile. Cougar could never get enough of that smile.

“You got your hat back, Cougs!” he said happily, reaching up to grab a hold of Cougar’s shoulder, smiling like Cougar was the Holy One himself.

Cougar could only smile back and tip his hat over his eyes as Jensen sat up and looked around the warehouse, still trying to get his bearings. When he noticed the others he sat up straighter, leaning out of Cougar’s arms, and called to them.

“Guys! When did you get here?”

No one chose to answer him, which wasn’t that unusual. He shrugged and tried to stand, nearly falling back onto his ass when the movements made his head spin and stars appear before his eyes. Cougar caught him and kept him steady as he held his head in his hand, tentatively reaching around to the sore spot where he’d gotten knocked out. He hissed when his hand trailed over the lump on his skull.

He tried to stand up again, a little slower this time, but Cougar held him still, giving him a look that quite plainly told him not to move. He sighed and allowed himself to relax into Cougar’s arms until Clay told them that it was time to go.

He wasn’t sure if they found anything, but it didn’t really seem to matter when he was wrapped up in Cougar’s strong arms.

 

Jensen was feeling much better once they made it back to their base, though the ride there hadn’t exactly been fun, his pounding head bouncing along the bumpy jungle roads. A few minutes in he started complaining about it and a second later felt Cougar’s hand reach up his neck to burrow into his short hair, scratching lightly at his scalp until he was practically purring in the backseat. Jensen was a little bit surprised; Cougar was usually never this affectionate when the others were around. Pooch may have told them to get a room at one point, but Jensen wasn’t paying attention to anything but the sensation of Cougar’s hand on his head.

Once they’d reached the base, Cougar removed his hand, smirking when Jensen whined a little at the sudden loss of contact. They were just inside and setting their things down when Jensen decided to ask,

“How did you guys find us, anyway?”

Clay turned to him. He looked tired; sometimes Jensen wondered if his age was catching up to him, especially since Roque.

“We heard through the comms the moment you guys were ambushed, and Pooch had just stumbled onto a map of the surrounding buildings. We realized pretty quickly after that who had taken you, and after looking at the map saw that warehouse. We got there before you did, actually. You guys were a great distraction. No one noticed us capture and question one of the guards while you were being put through the ringer.”

Jensen just gapped at him.

“You were there the whole time?” he shrieked. He wasn’t especially angry, he imagined they were a damn good distraction, but it was the notion of the thing.

“Yeah,” Pooch said, giving Jensen a “duh” look and rolling his eyes. “Before you guys went in we gave a signal to Cougar to let him know we were there. He didn’t tell you?”

And, maybe possibly Jensen could recall a moment or two where Cougar looked at him like he was trying to tell him something while they were heading through the warehouse, but Jensen had just assumed Cougar was trying to make him seem less worried about their admittedly shitty situation—not tell him that the situation was actually far more in control than he originally thought. He must have been more panicked than he thought for him to misinterpret one of Cougar’s expressions. He was usually so good at that!

Still, just because Cougar had known that they were covered didn’t mean they were totally safe at the time.

“We were seriously in danger!” Jensen said, throwing his hands up. “They took Cougar’s hat!”

“So?” Pooch shrugged. “He got it back.”

Jensen turned to him and repeated seriously,

“They touched Cougar’s hat, man! No one touches the hat!”

This time Aisha joined Pooch on the eye-rolling, adding with a satisfied smirk,

“Why do I feel like you are more upset about the stupid hat than Cougar is?”

Jensen worked his mouth for a moment with nothing coming out, then motioned weakly in Cougar’s direction and replied,

“Because Cougar’s fine as long as he gets to round-house kick the guy who touched his hat in the throat. It takes a lot more than that to calm me down! I’m talking complete and utter decimation, the hat-stealing simply will not be tolerated, you hear me?”

Aisha just shook her head and from somewhere beside him Jensen heard a low grumble of laughter that could only be Cougar’s. Jensen turned to him, about to start in on a rant about being more defensive of his possessions, but then Cougar grabbed at the front of his shirt and started pulling him out of the main room without a word.

Jensen let himself be moved about by Cougar until they found themselves alone in their room, Cougar’s hands just making their way beneath Jensen’s shirt and over the skin around his stomach. Jensen sucked in a gasp of air beneath Cougar’s fingers then caught the familiar, hungry look in his partner’s eye.

“You—“ he swallowed, grinning himself silly, “Yeah, okay.”

Cougar bent his head low to bite softly at the skin on Jensen’s neck. The hacker scrambled to wrap his arms around the strong shoulders of Cougar’s back, leaning his head back to allow his teeth better access. Cougar slyly put his leg between Jensen’s, rubbing just lightly enough to make Jensen moan for more. The sniper then pushed his body forward into Jensen’s, making him take a step back. Cougar advanced on him again, a few more steps until the back of Jensen’s legs hit the bed and he tumbled backwards onto it with a rather undignified yelp.

Cougar remained standing between Jensen’s legs, hanging off the side of the bed. When Jensen smiled and tried to sit back up or pull Cougar down onto the bed with him, Cougar placed a firm hand on Jensen’s shoulder, pinning him back flat on the sheets. He watched with a racing pulse as Cougar smirked down at him, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling back. Jensen tried once again to sit up, to chase after the terrible tease that was Cougar’s mouth. Cougar pushed him back down again, this time adding a firm,

“Quedarse.”

“But—“ Jensen whined.

“Stay,” Cougar hissed, reaching down to carefully remove Jensen’s glasses from his face, placing them delicately on the table beside the bed. Jensen licked his lips and saw hazily as Cougar reached up and removed his hat from his head. The next thing Jensen knew the hat was placed over his face, making him unable to see.

And it smelled like Cougar, not at all like that asshole who had been wearing it earlier. Jensen breathed in deeply because, and he knew it was creepy and stupid, he loved Cougar scent; it was like gunpowder and some foreign spice Jensen could never quite identify, just assumed it was uniquely Cougar.

Then, not a second after the hat was tossed over his face Jensen felt Cougar’s large, strong hands grip his waist, running thumbs over the dips of his pelvic bone. He moaned and lifted his hips just a little, only to have them pushed back down just as firmly as Cougar had pushed down his shoulder. He tried to remain still—clearly that was what Cougar wanted—but it became very difficult when he next felt the scratch of beard and moustache along the edge of his pants and the warmth of Cougar’s tongue trailing just below.

“Carlos!” Jensen gasped, reaching forward to tangle his hands in Cougar’s hair as it tickled along his stomach. He wanted to buck his hips up again, to get some kind of friction against the erection that was already burning inside his Batman boxers.

He felt the button of his pants snap open and the zipper fall under Cougar’s dexterous, treacherous fingers, aching his back off the bed when he felt Cougar nibble at his length, still contained in his underwear.

“Jake,” he whispered lowly, hands gliding along the skin at the top of Jensen’s thighs. “Tú eres mío.”

When Cougar finally pulled Jensen’s underwear down to his knees and wrapped his mouth around Jensen’s already leaking cock, the hacker could do nothing but pull harder on Cougar’s long, soft hair and moan silently from underneath the hat.

Cougar’s tongue rolled around his length in a way that Jensen swore up and down was impossible for anyone who doesn’t come from a Spanish-speaking country to do. His hands slid beneath Jensen slyly, cupping his ass as he sucked in, hollowing out his cheeks to the sound of Jensen trying to speak and mangling the English language with his contorted moans. Cougar took the member from within his mouth and spread Jensen’s legs as he licked from base to tip. He paused from working on Jensen’s dick to stick a couple fingers in his mouth, slicking them up enough to slide one easily into Jensen as the other man ran heavy fingers across the skin at the back of his neck.

He worked his fingers and tongue at the same time, slowly easing the stress out of himself that had built up earlier when Jensen had been way too close to being seriously injured. And that asshole had taken his amante’s glasses. No one touched Cougar’s lover’s things, and no one touched Cougar’s lover. Jensen’s toes curled and Cougar pulled back before the other man could come; he was prepared enough, at least by Cougar’s standards. He never really minded if Jensen walked a little funny the next day.

Cougar crawled onto the bed, pulling Jake’s legs up after him and firmly setting them on either side of his head. He gently let his fingers trail over the spot on his partner’s lower back where he knew a gun had dug into him twice that day; there would probably be a bruise tomorrow that he could run kisses along in the hopes of making it better.

He grabbed his hat and threw it off the bed to land gently on the floor where he could find it later. Jensen looked up at him with wide, hungry eyes, tongue tracing a line around his plump, red lips. Cougar had to force himself to look away and reach over to the side table, snatching a bottle of lube and popping open the cap.

“Condom?” Jensen asked, propping himself half up on his elbows and glancing at the side table.

“No,” Cougar replied, eyes glinting and set in a way that explained to the other man, not today. Cougar poured the lubricant directly onto the cock he had just freed from his pants.

Jensen inhaled sharply, then he grinned, mind too far gone to even question it.

“Yeah, fuck, yeah, okay,” he rambled, nodding his head as Cougar grasped his hips tightly and pressed his tip to Jensen’s entrance. “Fuck! Cougs, Carlos, yeah I want this, fuck, feel you inside me—“

“Silencio,” Cougar rasped, pushing inside as he did. He loved Jake’s voice, but he loved it even more when Jake clawed at his back or at the sheets, silently screaming as Cougar broke into his body and tore him apart.

Jensen swallowed, gritting his teeth at the first thrusts. But, it didn’t take long until he was rocking his hips back into those thrusts, head thrown back as silent screams of pleasure coursing through of him. Cougar waited until Jensen was close again, until he was used to the pressure of Cougar buried deep inside him, then he pulled all the way out, earning a low whine from Jensen as his sweat-covered chest heaved up and down. Cougar smirked and slipped a hand on his lover’s waist, guiding his body until he was on his stomach.

Cougar lifted Jensen’s hips in the air, pushing slowly back inside as Jensen let out an ungodly mewl and arched his back, arms barely able to support him as the sheets crumpled in his fists.

Cougar regained the rhythm and speed he’d had before, brushing along Jensen’s sweet spot with all the accuracy that someone in his profession should possess. He bent low over Jake’s back, lips pressing against the back of his ear as he whispered low and dirty,

“Mio, Jake. Nadie te va a tocar. Son míos.”

He let fingers trail lightly at the scruff on Jensen’s chin, down to his neck and collar bones, then his chest until he reached the other man’s dripping length, bobbing with every thrust Cougar sent into him. He wrapped deft fingers around it as he placed gentle kisses down Jensen’s back, thrusting in as deeply as he could as Jensen clenched around him, clearly on the edge of release.

“Te amo,” he muttered against Jake’s shoulder, and the man beneath him shuddered as rippling shocks tore through him. He rode it out with Cougar buried deep inside him. He thrust once before Jensen collapsed onto the sheets, utterly spent. Cougar ground his hips into Jensen’s, fingers digging into the flush skin of Jensen’s ass. He tosses his head back when he came, Jake’s name on his lips like a prayer, then shakily landed beside his lover on the bed, curling arms around him and holding them together tightly, so nothing could pull them apart.

He didn’t fall asleep, but was contentedly resting for a few moments until he noticed hands running gently through the length of his hair. He opened his eyes, purring at the sensation of fingers he loved touching him so softly. He saw a wide grin spread on Jake’s already beaming face.

“Carlos,” Jensen murmured, leaning forward and nuzzling his nose against the skin of Cougar’s cheek. “Love you.”

Cougar chuckled and pulled him closer, breathing in the scent of himself on the man he loved.

“Te amo, Jake.”

Their hearts and minds were full of each other as they entwined their bodies and drifted off to sleep; Jensen’s glasses and Cougar’s hat lay forgotten.